Even though he couldn't understand how a bubble bath could remove a person's body hair, he fully believed it was the reason that the only hair he had was what was on top of his head and what he soon learned were his now very thin eyebrows. Figuring his body hair would eventually grow back, Mathew put the issue out of his mind and focused instead on what he considered more pressing matters.
He still didn't know who owned the cabin and when and if they would come back. Everything within seemed to hint that multiple people lived there, yet Mathew could find nothing to identify who these people were. Searching the study didn't reveal anything and, when he finally plucked up the courage to do so, neither did a quick examination of a couple of the bedrooms. Everything about the cabin, Mathew guessed, seemed to point to that it was owned by someone, yet at the same time it looked like it wasn't owned by anyone and that it was merely a place for people to hang out for a while.
Unsure and not really comfortable by such a notion, he tried to lessen the amount of evidence that showed he'd been occupying the building. He kept records of what he ate and anything he used. He used the one bedroom that didn't appear to be used that much. And anything he used, such as books, he made sure to put them back where he found them.
Other matters he found pressing was the issue of getting rescued. He waited three days before deciding he couldn't wait any longer and that his brother was right and that there was something off about the cabin. He couldn't put his finger on what, but as he packed his bag and left a note explaining who he was, how long he'd been there and what he'd taken, he found he had the strangest sensation that there was something alive about the building. Troubled by this, he set out, hoping that he could hike out by nightfall and that, along the way, he'd run into Tobias, as he decided it was time for him to man up and apologise.
Yet, hiking out of the forest didn't prove easy. A number of times, Mathew found himself turned around and back at the cabin. And each time he began walking through the woods, he was sure he heard things moving around in the forest. This in turn slowed him down as. not wanting to meet potentially dangerous animals, he often found himself taking cover under bushes and up in trees. And to make matters worse, he didn't see his brother at all, which he found frustrating and worrying, as he was torn between the notion that Tobias had somehow made it back to society and that his brother was lying hurt or dead somewhere.
These thoughts and others eating at him, it was with a sinking sensation that Mathew soon gave up when he found himself once again standing outside the cabin. Tired, discouraged, night having already fallen, he let himself back into the cabin. Dropping his pack on the floor near the door, he called out, "Tobias?" in a hopeful tone.
When it became clear he was the only one there, he sighed and trudged toward the kitchen. Preparing himself something to eat, Mathew pondered over why he kept circling back. Certain that his skills at knowing which direction to go weren't that bad, he found it troubling. Finishing his meal, he started washing up the dishes, but stopped when the words, "A map," slipped past his lips. Starting to formulate an idea, he quickly soaped and rinsed the dishes, then headed toward the nearest bookcase.
Meticulously scanning the titles, he searched for anything that hinted at a map or something of where he was in relation to where in the Aokigahara forest. Finding nothing, he moved to the next shelves of books. And when he could see anything useful amongst the various books, he moved on.
Hours later, he flopped down on the sofa and huffed, "Nothing," and glowering, he wondered how it was that the cabin had been outfitted with virtually everything else, but had no maps or compasses or anything to show where the cabin was and how a person might get back to civilisation, if they should happen upon the building accidentally. Looking about, not really taking anything in, he asked aloud, "Who designs a cabin without a method to leave the surrounding area?"
No answer coming to him, of which he hadn't expected one, Mathew leaned his had back and stared up at the ceiling. Mulling over the mystery of the cabin, his predicament, the possibilities of what might have happened to his brother, he eventually stood. Needing something do, figuring if he sat around too long, doing noting, he would go batshit, he paced back and forth a moment before starting to head in one direction, but, at the last moment, he stopped. Figuring he should have one last look before giving up, he made his way back to the nearest bookcase and began frantically searching it and the other shelves.
When it became clear that the answers he sought could not be found amongst the books, Mathew threw his hands up in exasperation and gave up. Returning to the bedroom he'd been sleeping in, he flopped down on the bed. Frustrated, unsure of what he should do next, certain that nobody was going to turn up, he was at the point of closing his eyes and trying to sleep on the problem when he noticed a book he was positive hadn't been in the room the last time he'd been in it. Standing, he walked cautiously over to the dresser, picked up the hardback book and gazed at the black leather covering. Seeing nothing to tell him the name of the book, he flipped it open to the first couple pages and found, instead of a title, neat block letters he thought must have been typed.
Quickly he scanned it, turned the page and skimmed. A couple pages later and he returned to the bed, thinking as he did that he'd found a 1930s or 1940s potboiler mystery. Losing himself in the narrative, he discovered it was about two people who, like him, got lost and ended up at a cabin in the middle of the woods. Further reading revealed how, unlike him, they had begun to transform into animals, with one man turning into a bat, whilst the other became a zebra. Having never been turned on by such things, Mathew soon found he was riveted by what he was reading.
When the he got to the first sex scene, he nearly put the book down. But, starting to feel flushed and aroused himself, he instead kicked off his shoes and socks. Turning the page, he shifted uncomfortably when his penis started to get hard. Not wanting to put down the book, he undid his pants and pushed them and his underwear down. His erection fully exposed, Mathew was the least off-put that he was getting a wicked hard-on from what he was reading. Mind fully focused on finding out what happened next, he laid the book down on the bed and using one hand to turn the page when necessary, he used his other to begin to self-pleasure himself as the text of the book started to delve into the more erotic.
Unaware of what was happening to him as he beat his meat, Mathew read how the two slowly became two hermaphrodite animals. Feeling sorry for when the one guy lost the use of his hands as they became hooves, he missed it as his sides pinched inward, giving him a more hourglass figure. Disturbed by how the other dude started to crave blood and nipped at his friend whilst he slept, Mathew missed it as the fat in his body shifted and his hips, butt and thighs took on a more feminine appearance, whilst inside his body his lungs and heart shrank a little and his liver, stomach, thyroid glans and kidney increased a smidge in size. And when he was near climax, he missed it as his stomach flattened and his waist shifted up as he rolled onto his back, stick working furiously at his erection as he did so, and blew cum onto himself.
A sigh of contentment escaping him, he languidly gazed to his right when the book fell off the bed and thumped to the floor. Too sluggish and content to make an effort to pick it up, Mathew remained where he was, still holding his penis, which was growing flaccid. After a moment, in which the cum on his shirt on began to turn cold, he rolled off the bed, pulled up his pants and headed for the bathroom. There, he debated on whether to take a shower or another bath as he stripped off his soiled shirt, then his pants and underwear. Turning to pick them up, he stopped when he caught sight of his reflection. Uttering the exclamation, "What the fuck," he stepped closer to the mirror and, his clothes temporary forgotten, he studied his reflection. Thinking, "If I didn't no any better, I'd swear I was looking at a girl," he traced the feminine curves of his body and eyed how much his butt, thighs and hips looked more like belonged on a girl.