The Cabin Ch. 01

This is my story and was also published elsewhere.

The latest months had been rough. I really needed a vacation. My girlfriend had left me, with vague accusations of not being manly enough for her. I buried myself in work and self-pity, spending days without fresh air or company. When I finally came out on the other side of the pit, I knew I had to take a break from everything. Go somewhere I could disconnect from everything for a while.

My backpack was light as usual. I had packed everything I would need, which turned out not to be much. Sleeping bag, kettle, tarp, axe, coffee, sweater, socks and the various small doodads I could not do without. Walking amongst trees and small lakes with a whole week of solitude and adventure ahead of me, I already felt light shouldered. It was wonderful to hear the nature all around me and the sound of trees whispering and wishing me welcome to their domain. The first two days were spent in a state of euphoria, with no worries and no clue of what went on in the world. My cell phone was in the car where it belonged. The only worry I had was whether the good weather would stay, and if I would catch tomorrow's meals.

The third day I awoke to branches whipping and water pounding against the thin membrane above my nest. Lazy from a long, sleepless night, I stayed in the small shelter, determined to wait it out. Winds gradually built up over the hours, and soon I found myself in the middle of a roaring storm with no respite in sight. All I could do was try to stay dry and sleep as much as I could.

That night I snapped awake to the horrifying sound of tearing fabric. With shock I could only stare at my tarp vanishing into the dark abyss above. The night was so dark, and the rain so heavy, that I abandoned all hope of finding it. With the tarp gone, all hope of weathering the storm was gone. As water quickly began to seep through my clothing, I realized for the first time in my life that I was in real peril. I could not see my hand in front of me, and knew I would soon freeze to death without shelter. With determination I got up, quickly gathered the few of my remaining items and began to walk. I had no idea which way I went. Any direction was better than staying in the small copse of trees in which I had been holed up.

After hours of walking I began to lose hope. I was soaked to the bone, shivering and covered in mud. Walking had stopped keeping me warm. I was shaking uncontrollably, both fro fear and cold, and felt the quickly approaching fatigue. The worst thing on my mind was the realization that the weather only seemed to worsen. Hour by hour I stumbled on, feeling more dismal with each step. I tried to get my bearings, but it was difficult just to keep my eyes open. I kept colliding with rocks and trees, finding no respite from the gushing winds. When I eventually crashed into a tall cliff face, I collapsed in a heap. Anger welled up in me and I beat at the impassable hindrance with my hands. The hollow sound beat in tune with the roaring storm overhead. It took me several minutes to realize this was no rock. My hands should be bleeding and torn, not merely aching. This was wood. A wall.

Not knowing if my tears came from rain or joy, I stumbled along the wooden cliff until I found the door. With my last ounce of strength, I smashed the lock and pulled the door open. I was flung inside as the wind slammed it shut behind me. The sudden silence and stillness was deafening. Still shivering, I crawled over to the fireplace, fumbling for an eternity with matches and kindling. A few moments later, I was wearing only a woolen blanket, warming my numb hands against a crackling fire. My head nodded peacefully to the sensation of comfort and exhaustion.

When I awoke it was still dark outside and the weather was as bad as before. The fire was long dead, and the chill urged me to start it anew. After an eternity of apathy, I began to come alive and scanned my surroundings. The living room was small, with a kitchen bench by one wall opposite the fireplace. Two doors covered the wall opposite to the exit.

Behind the first door was a primitive bathroom with cupboards filled with various items. It was clear that a woman owned the cabin, because it was filled with all sorts of beauty products and make-up. The other room contained a large bed, and with the exception of a window and the door, the walls were covered with cabinets and lockers. Hangers were loaded with dresses and outfits, which was quite strange in a mountain cabin. When I opened the drawers, my eyes were met by a hoard of women's underwear. There were panties in all sorts of colors and textures, stockings, garter belts, bras, bikinis, corsets, and a long range of lingerie I could not even name or fathom how to wear. My mind pictured the woman who owned the cabin, and how she would look wearing all this. The sizes showed that she was a tall but slender woman with petite breasts. Immediately, my cock began to react, and in spite of the fatigue I found myself getting aroused. The biggest surprise, however, came when I opened the last of the drawers.

Round nipples of varying shades stared at me from faux breasts of different sizes. What on Earth would a woman do with these? The answer presented itself quickly when I spied the fleshlight lying next to them. Apparently, the woman I had been fantasizing about was in fact a man. The thought instantly made me regret my recent arousal. To take my mind off the fact, I closed the drawers and went back to the living room. I opened a can of beer from the kitchen and collapsed on the couch by the fireplace. But my mind kept wandering back to the bedroom and all the sexy underwear.

The rain was still pounding against the windows with no sign of relief, and I realized that the storm could rage for days. As the hours went by, I became restless and bored, and went back to the bedroom. Maybe it was because of the beers, but I became horny again when I thought about all the sexy lingerie lying neatly in their drawers. And the breasts. So what if it was a man who owned them. I do not know why, but I decided to try something on. The cabin had become cosily warm by now, so as I dropped the blanket, I only felt a welcoming heat embrace me, in spite of the torrent outside. I searched through the drawers until I settled on a pair of black panties. With my head spinning slightly from alcohol, and my cock beginning to harden, I stepped into the panties and pulled them on. The tiny thong slid in between my butt cheeks, and the small piece of satin did nothing to conceal my testicles and growing erection. The front was decorated with two small, red ribbons. Around the waist, the thin thong was trimmed with ruffles, and as I looked in the mirror, I could see my balls peeking around the thin, lacy edges.

With panties hugging my crotch, I instantly felt a touch of femininity, but became aware that my body did not quite match the underwear. Tufts of pubic hair were visible on all sides, and as I rubbed the panties, the contrast between the rough, hairy skin and soft fabric did not seem right. To truly feel how the fabric could be against my skin, I decided to go a bit further. I went into the bathroom and pulled the panties down. With my heart beating faster than before, I found some shaving gear and begun applying the foamy gel to my entire body. It was as if a female devil had emerged from the back of my mind. I was determined to strip away my body hair so that I could feel the lingerie touch my body as it would a woman. I had no one in my life to notice anyway. It took a while, and it was quite difficult, especially in the back, but finally I was done and posed before the mirror with smooth and lotioned skin. I stroked myself along my entire body, feeling my hands slide easily across the soft, warm surface. When I touched between the legs and ass I could almost imagine the firm, round ass of my ex, if not for the testicles and cock, though thoroughly shaven.

I once again pulled the panties on, and this time it felt completely different. The fabric glided unhindered along my legs, caressing me more closely, and somehow feeling a lot more natural. I was instantly hooked. From one the drawers I selected a pair of loose breasts that matched my skin tone. They had a rubbery back which stuck to my shaved chest when resting within a bra. The unfamiliar garment distributed the weight in addition to pressing the breasts together, creating a feminine and perky buxom. It was made to match the panties, and of the same satin and lace fabric with ruffled edges. A red ribbon nestled between the cups, and a red band was sewn along the edges. My new nipples were barely visible through the front, protruding slightly and matching my arousal.

The feeling of easily pulling a pair of black fishnet stay-ups added to my sense of femininity. I attached the broad lace bands with a garter belt matching the other lingerie I was wearing. When I now studied myself in the mirror, I saw a man slowly disappearing, replaced by an emerging woman's body, carefully wrapped in delicate lingerie. The smooth skin glistened somewhat in the flickering light from the fireplace. I turned around and admired the round shape of my ass, split down the middle by the thin thong and framed by garter straps.

In spite of the lingerie, the thing that made me feel most like a woman was the pair of pumps I selected from a large collection of footwear. The four-inch heels automatically gave me a feminine grace and posture, and as I walked, my hips and ass swayed from side to side. The only thing lacking was something to wear over it all. Something to brush against my legs as I moved. I rummaged through the closets for a while until my eyes settled on a short, black dress. The skirt was wide and made of several layers of wrinkly tulle. It reached just below my crotch and ass, barely showing the red ribboned garter thongs securing my stockings. The dress top was zig-zagged in the front with black silk ribbons and ruffles. I had some trouble with the zipper in the back, but after a while of cursing and swearing, I prevailed and was rewarded by the satisfactory constricting garment around my amplified torso. A few strong, silk bands around the sides were made to make the dress follow my curves more closely.

After once again having studied myself in the mirror, I went back to the bathroom and procured a long, blonde wig amongst many others hanging in a closet. It took some time to learn the trick of securing it. Then there was time for an even more difficult challenge of make-up, and I kept reminding myself that less is more. After an hour of failure and scrutiny, I finally made some progress. Pleased with the work, I felt very much like a woman and was surprised at how natural and fitting it all seemed. In spite of the constricting dress, I was comfortable and at ease wearing this. I loved the sensation of sexiness, and grinned satisfied to myself.

Now, as I stood in front of the mirror, I could hardly believe what I saw. How could this be me? Before me stood a beautiful woman with long, blonde hair falling in curls around her neck and shoulders. A heavy chest was visible above her black dress hugging the shaped waist. Beneath her short skirt I could barely see the lace band on her stockings, and the slender legs went on for a mile before reaching the high-heeled shoes on her painted feet. I saw the tiny hint of movement beneath her skirt, and as I pulled my own skirt up, I noticed the woman in the mirror sported a huge cock, failing to conceal itself behind a tiny thong. The sight of the erect penis did not make me uneasy. It rather made me feel horny. She was the perfect image of femininity, but the fact that she had a cock made me look at her with increased lust.

Fully considering myself a woman, I found it fitting to celebrate with a bottle of wine. I gathered the bottle and a glass and sat down in front of the fireplace again. Automatically I crossed my legs as I sat down and was a bit amazed how quickly I settled in the role. Everything seemed to be naturally within me, just waiting for an opportunity to come out. The skies were still dark, and I lit a few candles that made the room flicker with a comfortable, orange glow. Soon I was relaxing on the couch, staring into the fire. The licking flames made an entrancing pattern of light and shadows dance across the dark timber walls, hypnotizing me with their movements.