Mathew stared at his naked body, repulsed, yet also drawn to what he saw, thinking he looked not only good, but also cute. Wailing out, "Oh god, what is happening to me," he turned away from the mirror and stumbled toward the bathtub. Grabbing a wash clothe as he did, he flipped on the water, then sat on the edge of the tub, waiting for the temperature of the water to go from ice cold to luke warm.
As he did this, Mathew clutched the cloth tightly as he tried to sort out everything that had happened. His thoughts returning to what he'd seen in the mirror, he thought that the only thing that destroyed the illusion of someone looking at a girl was that his face, though smooth, still had a masculine quality about it, he still had his dick and balls, his hair was still cut short and looked normal for a dude and his hands, feet and shoulders were too big to belong on a girl. Trying to find the good in, that, for the most part, he still at least looked like a girl, he found himself upset by the fact that he had smooth, hairless skin, that his arms were thin like a girl's, his torso had the same appearance of a girl's, "Sans tits," he thought wryly, and that his legs, hips and thighs all looked out of place on guy.
His train of thought leaping to what his brother said and he wondered, again, if there was something off about the cabin. "That maybe it is having some sort of effect on me," he muttered as he pondered over whether a dude masturbating could turn into a chick every time he gave his pole a polish.
The notion that such a thing was absurd coming to him, as he'd jerked off in the past, and the only thing that had happened then was sexual pleasure and release, Mathew filled the tub. Careful not to spill the bubble bath this time, he climbed in and lowered himself into the steaming tub, laid back and relaxed. Thinking as he did, he mulled over what had had happened and what he could do. Deciding the best course of action would be to first figure out where in the Aokigahara forest he was, he was at a loss as to how to acquire such information. Reaching for the nearest bathing stuff, making sure it wasn't the bubble bath or something overly feminine, Mathew started washing himself.
Somewhere in the cabin, he was sure there was the answers he sought, he just didn't know where. Mentally tracing out every room he saw, he eventually decided to start with the office he'd seen. When he'd finished, he knocked the plug out of the tub stopper, stood and dried himself off. Naked, he headed back to the room he'd been sleeping in to find a pair of pyjamas or some clothes to wear. After he'd dressed himself in a pair of pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt, he exited the room and systematically began searching the cabin for clues.
A day later, having stopped only to sleep and eat, Mathew sat at the kitchen table. The sun had gone down hours previous and, now, staring out one of the windows, the young man tried to keep the frustration that was threatening to overwhelm him at bay. Muttering, "Four days. Four days. And nothing to show as to where exactly I am, what is happening, and what I can do to get rescued," he stared moodily out at the forest. Shifting to get comfortable, he found his mood souring even more, as he once more had a hard on that throbbed and ached for his touch.
Not wanting to deal with it, he tried to ignore, but found it difficult to do so, as his penis didn't seem to ever fully return to its normal softness and only came close to being flaccid when he had to pee. Wondering if there was something medically wrong, not wanting to touch the thing any more than he had to, scared that what had happened to him could somehow get worse, Mathew tried to put it out of mind as he tried to sort of what he hadn't learned by searching the cabin for answers. Except for a couple of what looked to be diaries, all similar to what he'd read the previous evening, he hadn't found anything to answer any of his burning questions. It was almost as if the cabin didn't exist and people came upon it accidentally and always lost.
This train of thought not helping him, he huffed in agitation as he found himself getting angrier by the lack of answers, which led him to trying to calm down, which in turn led him to thinking about the throbbing sexual urge he felt he was close to giving into. His thoughts circling upon themselves, Mathew eventually stood and headed for the bedroom he'd been sleeping in. Not even bothering to turn on the lights, he flopped down on the bed and stared up into the darkness. Breathing evenly, he shut his eyes and tried to find a calming point, figuring that if he did, he'd eventually find at least a starting to point to all the things confronting him. Starting to feel himself sinking and floating, he didn't try to fight it. The stress of the past four days, the fear he felt about Tobias being hurt or worse, the fright that hung over him and constantly dug at him that that he'd would never been rescued, the mixture of emotions that swept over him every time he was made aware of how he'd been changed, all of it and more, slowly chased him down into a restless sleep.
Vivid images plagued him as he dreamed about wandering the cabin. Finding the book he'd been reading the night before, he opened it. Expecting to see the same typed words, he nearly screamed when the voice of his brother barked out, "Bitch," over and over. Dropping the book, he watched in alarm as the pages flipped to nearly the end of the book, where the typing had stopped, and peering closely, he jumped back when a hand poked out.
Curious, yet scared, he watched as a naked man he was certain he'd never seen before crawled out of the book. Feeling himself growing sexually aroused, he thought, "He'd cute," before he could stop himself.
The man taking no notice of him as he finished climbing out of the book, Mathew tried to figure out why he'd thought such a thing. Having never thought such a thing, his sexual orientation always having swung to girls, he watched as the man stand and step closer. Hearing his breathing suddenly start to speed up, to grow heavier, the amorous feeling increasing, he tried to tell the man, "No," to step back, as the man reached out and gently pressed up on Mathew's chin.
Forced to look up, a shudder of need, of pleasure, of ecstasy, escaping him, Mathew mentally tried to fight back as the man kissed him full on the lips. Reaching down, he tentatively touched the man's erect member. And as the man nodded, Mathew began to slide his hand up and down the man's shaft. A moan of pleasure escaping the man, Mathew found himself thinking how great it would be to kiss the man's penis, to lick it, to suckle at it, to even had it thrust inside of him. Looking down, no longer perturbed by the thoughts, he felt a moment of hesitation as he thought that his hands looked somehow different. But then, as he began to slow, the man moaned, "Don't stop," and needing no other incentive, Mathew began working his hand up and down, his other hand slipping down between his legs as he played with the smooth flat skin.
As he lay on the bed, dreaming, Mathew moaned in pleasure. Thinking he was stroking a guy off, he worked his way out of both his pyjamas pants and shirt, then reached down and gingerly wrapped his hand around his erect penis. Having never experience sleep sex, his motion was at first clumsy, unsure. But as the dream continued, grew more vivid, Mathew soon found a rhythm. Thinking he was working at the man's penis, he began gently working his own as the need to satisfy the urge became more insistent. His actions becoming more assured, confident as he whacked off, he moaned in pleasure, unaware that his hands and feet where shrinking, becoming more dainty, feminine, whilst his shoulders also grew smaller. And as he achieved both sexual release in the dream and in the real world, Mathew only experienced a twinge of doubt before the dream swirled away, he climaxed and blew his load in the real world, then sunk into a deep sleep, unaware of how he'd changed.