The latest months had been quite rough on me and I’d been looking forward to this trip for a long time. My girlfriend had left me, muttering something about me not being manly enough for her. In reply, I had buried myself in work and self-pity. When I finally came to my senses, I knew I had to take a break.
My backpack was burdened by everything I would need, which wasn’t much. I normally travel fairly light. I was walking amongst trees and small lakes with a whole week of solitude and adventure ahead of me. 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 I was in a state of euphoria, with no worries and no clue about what went on in the world. My cell phone was back in the car where it belonged. The only worry I had was whether the good weather would stay like this or not.
The third day I awoke to branches whipping and water pounding against the thin walls of my tent. Lazy from a long, sleepless night, I stayed inside, 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 chance to go anywhere. All I could do was try to sleep as much as I could. Suddenly, during the following evening, I awoke from the high snapping sounds of my tent surrendering to the heavy torrent. With shock I could only stare at my tent vanishing into the dark abyss above. It was so dark, and the rain so heavy, that I lost sight of it almost at once. With it vanished all hopes of weathering the storm. As rain slowly seeped through my clothing, I realized for the first time in my life that I was in real peril. I couldn't see my hand in front of me, and much of my equipment had blown away with the tent, spread out across the hillside like sand. If I couldn’t find shelter, I would soon freeze to death. With determination I got up, quickly gathered the few of my remaining items and began to walk. The map was gone, and I had no idea which way I went. And if I had, I wouldn’t be able to see it anyway. Any direction was as good as any other.
After hours of walking I began to lose hope. I was soaked to the bone and covered in mud. The steady exercise from walking had stopped keeping me warm. I was shivering uncontrollably, 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 constantly collided with rocks and stumbled, but knew I had to go on. Once again, I banged into a tall, hard surface and fell to my knees. Tears welled up in me, and I began beating on the damned hindrance. After an eternity of frustration I suddenly stopped. This was no rock. My hands should be bleeding and torn. This was wood. A timber wall.
I couldn't believe my luck. I had stumbled upon a cabin. Not knowing if my tears came from rain or joy, I found the door, quickly smashed the lock and pressed inside. I entered a small room with a fireplace, sofa and kindling ready to be lit. A few moments later, I was wearing only a woolen blanket, warming my numb hands against a crackling fire. My head was nodding 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. Finally having some tiny amount of comfort, I decided to have a look around to see if I could find some dry clothes. The living room was small, with a kitchen bench by one wall opposite the fireplace. Two doors, in addition to the exit, led out of the room.
Behind the first door was a primitive bathroom with cupboards filled with various items. It was clear that a woman owned this 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. On hangers were loads of dresses and outfits and I found this quite strange in a mountain cabin. Really, there was no need to dress up in a place like this.
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 couldn’t even name. I began to think about the woman who owned this cabin and pictured her wearing all this. The sizes of the lingerie showed that she was a slim woman with not too large breasts. Immediately, my cock began to react, and I became somewhat horny. The biggest surprise, however, came when I opened the last of the drawers.
They were full of loose breasts in different color nuances and sizes. What would a woman do with these? The answer presented itself quickly. Apparently, the woman I had been thinking of was in fact a man. The thought made me regret my recent arousal. To take my mind off this fact, I closed the drawers and went back to the sofa. I opened a can of beer from the kitchen and tried to relax. But my mind wandered 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 number of beers I had been drinking, but I became horny again when I thought about all the sexy lingerie lying there. And the breasts. So what if it was a man who owned them. I decided to try something on, and dropped the blanket that hung over my shoulders.
The cabin had become quite warm by now, so I only felt the welcoming heat from firewood embrace me, in spite of the roaring torrent outside. I searched through the drawers until I settled on a pair of black panties. With my head spinning slightly from the beers, 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 through the thin, lacy edges.
With the panties clinging to my crotch, I instantly felt slightly feminine, but became aware that my body didn't quite match the underwear. Tufts of pubic hair were visible on either side, and as I stroked the edges of the panties, the contrast between the rough, hairy skin and soft fabric didn't seem right. To truly feel how the fabric could be against my skin, I decided to take things 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 gel to my entire body. I was determined to strip away all my body hair so that I could feel the lingerie touch my body as it would a woman. After all, there wasn’t as though anyone would see my shaved body until my hair’d grown out again. It took a while, and it was somewhat awkward, especially in the back, but finally I was done and posed before the mirror with a perfectly smooth and lotioned skin. I stroked myself along my entire body, feeling my hand slide easily across the soft, warm surface. If it wasn't for the testicles, though thoroughly shaven, it felt just as though I was touching a woman when I stroked myself between the legs and ass.
I once again pulled the panties on and this time it felt completely different. The fabric slid unhindered along my legs, caressed me more closely, and somehow felt more natural. I was instantly hooked. From one of the drawers, I selected a pair of loose breasts that matched my skin tone perfectly. I attached them to my chest with glue from the same drawer. It felt quite weird to have the large shapes weighting me down, but when I put on a bra, it distributed the weight in addition to pressing the breasts together, creating an enticing cleavage. The bra was made to match the panties, and was of the same satin and lace fabric with ruffled edges and a red ribbon between the cups, attached by a red band sewn into the edges. My new nipples were barely visible through the front, protruding slightly.
The feeling when I easily pulled on a pair of black diamond 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 not a man, but a woman's body, carefully wrapped in delicate lingerie. The smooth skin glistened somewhat in the flickering light emanating from the fireplace. I turned around and looked at the round shape of my ass, split down the middle by the thin thong of my panties and framed by the garter straps.
In spite of the lingerie, the thing that made me feel most like a woman was the pair of pumps I chose 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 now was something to wear over it all. 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 sheer fabric. It reached just below my crotch and ass, barely showing the red ribboned garter thongs holding my stockings up. 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 won the fight and was quite satisfied with how the dress clung tightly to my body. A few silk bands along the sides were tightened to make the dress follow my curves even better.
After once again having studied myself in the mirror, I went back to the bathroom and found a long, blonde wig amongst many others. It took some time to learn the trick of fastening it thoroughly, but when I was done, there was no way to notice that this wasn't my real hair. Then there was time for an even more difficult part of putting on make-up. I kept reminding myself that less is more. Pleased with my work, I now felt very much like a woman, and was surprised at how natural and fitting it seemed. In spite of the constricting dress, I felt very comfortable and at ease wearing this. I loved the sensation of being sexy and alluring, and grinned satisfyingly 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 large curls down along her neck and shoulders. Nice cleavage was visible above the black dress hugging her well-shaped breasts and waist. Beneath her short skirt I could barely see the lace band on her stockings, and her long, slender legs went on for a mile before reaching the high-heeled shoes on her painted feet. Suddenly I saw a tiny hint of movement beneath her skirt, and as I pulled my own skirt up, I saw that the woman in the mirror had a huge cock, failing to conceal itself behind a tiny thong. The sight of the erect penis did not make me uneasy. Rather, it made me feel hornier. She was the perfect image of femininity, but the fact that she had a cock made me look at her with increased satisfaction.
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 as a girl. Everything seemed to be naturally within me, just waiting for an opportunity to come out. The bad weather had made the evening arrive prematurely, and I lit a few candles that made the room flicker with a comfortable glow. Soon I was relaxing on the couch, staring into the fire. The licking flames made an ever-changing pattern of light and shadows dance across the dark timber walls, hypnotizing me with their movements.
