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The Cabin - a short, erotic story

The weather had closed in much faster than I’d been led to expect from the forecast this morning. The sky had turned a dull grey and large flakes of snow had begun to fall. Shit, I could do without this. It was bad enough that I had twisted my ankle a while ago, which meant that walking was becoming progressively more painful, and now it seemed as though the weather was turning against me.

I was a good two hours walk away from the road where I’d left my car, and that was two hours in dry weather and with two good ankles. If the snow continued to fall, the path would soon be obliterated and I’d be in danger of wandering away from it and into the wild terrain that stretched for miles around. If that happened I’d be in serious trouble. I needed to find shelter and sit out the snowstorm.

I remembered seeing a wooden cabin about a half hour back up the track and decided that I’d no choice but to head for there and hope I could make it before the snow became too deep. It was not as though I could rely on anyone coming to look for me. Trisha, my flatmate, was away for the weekend and I hadn’t told anyone where I was headed. I’d committed one of the cardinal mistakes of solo trekking and I hoped that I wouldn’t have to pay too high a price.

I picked up a piece of wood from the side of the path that was thick enough and long enough to use as a walking stick, which relieved my ankle a little, and dug out a woolly hat that I knew was in the side pocket of my rucksack. Then I began to march as fast as I was able back along the path.

The snow was coming down in heavy flurries and had already settled about two inches deep before I spotted the cabin. I assumed that it was intended as a refuge for walkers such as me. There was certainly no evidence that anyone lived there, and the place looked quite dilapidated, but at least I would have shelter from the snow.

I reached the door of the cabin and sighed with relief. I hoped that there might even be some tinned food inside. But even if not, I had a few supplies in my backpack, and surely I would only be here overnight at the most? Tomorrow, at first light, I hoped that I’d be able to head back down the path and back to my car.

I pushed open the door and entered the cabin, getting the shock of my life as I did so. There, sitting at a table in the middle of the room, was a man. My heart began to pound. It never occurred to me that I would find someone here. I must have paused a few seconds too long in the doorway, for an irritated voice met me.

“Well come in if you’re coming. Don’t stand with the door open and let the snow inside.”

I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me, but remained standing just inside the door. It wasn’t much warmer inside the cabin, but at least I was out of the wind and the snow. I saw that a fire had been laid in the hearth, but not yet lit, and the man had been searching his pack. He brandished a lighter.

“Here we are. I’ll have a fire going soon. I expect you’re cold and wet.”

“Yes, a little. I’m sorry…I was startled, I didn’t expect to find anyone here.”

I thought I owed him an explanation for why I remained rooted to the spot. My natural defence mechanism as a lone woman had clicked into play, and I was examining the man to make an assessment about whether I was safer inside the cabin, or whether I should take a chance against the snowstorm outside.

I watched the man bend to set the fire alight. He looked to be around forty, some ten years older than me. He was quite tall and seemed to be in good shape, and although I prided myself on being physically fit, I knew that I’d be no match against him, especially with a damaged ankle. He had on a heavy jacket with its collar pulled up around his neck and a woolly hat pulled down over his ears, so it wasn’t easy to see what he looked like, but as he turned away from the fire and faced me I was relieved to see him smile in a friendly way and my heartbeat began to slow a little. I must try not to panic. Not every man is like that man who…I didn’t want to go there. It was an experience in my past that had shaken my confidence and left me more afraid of one-to-one contact with strange men.

“My name is Alex, and you are…?”

I dropped my pack on the floor at last and advanced forward, towards the fire.

“Belle. My mother wanted to call me Bluebell, but Dad refused. Belle was a compromise.”

I don’t know why I had told him that. I don’t suppose he would be interested in the slightest to know why I had my name.

“Belle…nice name. So it looks as though we’re set in for the night, Belle. Do you happen to have any food with you?”

I rummaged through my pack and brought out a cheese sandwich left from lunch, an apple, and a blueberry muffin.

“Not very inspiring, I’m afraid. But you’re welcome to share with me.”

“That’s very kind. I just have some dried fruit I’m afraid. It’s a pity I don’t have my rifle. I could have got us a rabbit to cook.”

I didn’t tell him, but I was very relieved that he didn’t have a gun, although I was a little unnerved, when he took off his jacket, to see that he had a hunting knife attached to his belt.

The fire took hold and at least we would be warm. I looked around the hut to see if anyone had left emergency food supplies, but there was nothing edible, although there was a pile of dry firewood, enough to keep the fire going all night.

I laid out my meagre offerings and insisted that Alex cut everything in half, and we sat in silence and ate supper.

“May as well get some sleep, unless you know any party games.”

I turned round, startled, and was relieved to see from the smile on his face that he was teasing. I must try not to panic so easily. We’ll sleep and set off at first light, and go our separate ways. I am not holed up for the night with a mad rapist and axe murderer – I tried to calm my fears.

There were two wooden beds, which we pulled close to the fire, and I settled down under my jacket, using my backpack as a pillow. It was still early and I didn’t feel tired enough to sleep, and I guess that Alex felt the same, so we began to chat.

“Do you always hike alone, Belle?”

“Mostly. I like the peace and solitude of a long walk. I need it after a hectic week in my office. My friends are not so keen.”

“What’s your work?”

“Banking; I work in the investment arm of a large bank, buying and selling shares. It can get pretty intense sometimes. How about you?”

“I’m a writer. I write erotic literature.”

There followed a short period of silence. I was a little stunned and wasn’t sure how I should react to this. He laughed.

“Have I made you nervous? No need to worry, there is no obvious link between a writer of erotica and a seducer of lost women, at least, not under circumstances such as this. You’re pretty safe with me.”

I giggled, which I tend to do when I am caught in an awkward moment. Despite that I was intrigued and wanted to know more.

“I’ve never met a writer, let alone one who writes erotica like you. Have you been doing it long?”

He didn’t answer my question but came back with one of his own.

“Do you read erotica, Belle?”

“I…well I…”

“No need to be embarrassed. A lot of people enjoy reading smut, as I call my stuff.”

“Yes, I have from time to time. I mostly read books written by women for women. I like a bit of romance really.”

“And you don’t think that men can write romantic smut? Do you think that we men are only interested in the hard, raunchy stuff?”

“I…I don’t really know. I’ve never read anything written by a man.”

“You might have. Some men have been known to write under female names, and vice versa of course. But you’re right, at least as far as I’m concerned. My stuff is quite heavy. I write about murder and crime, as well as BDSM. Are you interested in reading that, Belle?”

I was glad that the light from the fire was not reflected on my face and that Alex would not be able to see the redness I could feel creeping over me. It just seemed such an intimate subject to be discussing with someone I’d only just met. But the darkness and the very fact that this man was a total stranger, whom I would be unlikely to meet after tonight, made me bold.

“I’ve read about BDSM, but I don’t live the life. Not that I’m into reading the very heavy stuff, just a bit of spanking and bondage, and...”

My voice died away. I was embarrassed about revealing such things about myself. Perhaps I’d gone too far?

“Do you fantasize about it though? When you read about a woman being spanked or tied up, do you like to imagine that it’s you?”

“I suppose I do, but I’ve never wanted to take it any further.”

“So if I was to offer to pull down your panties and spank your bottom, you wouldn’t be interested?”

I sucked in air in both shock and a definite frisson of sexual electricity shooting through my body. What was I supposed to say to that? And did I think that Alex would try to do that to me?

He laughed, softly.

“Don’t worry, I never have a scene with an unwilling partner. Everything I do is consensual. You’re safe tonight, Belle.”

Part of me was relieved, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to a slight feeling of regret. If I was honest with myself I’d once met a man who was into that stuff, and I’d been sorely tempted to give it a try, but I backed out at the last minute. It seemed that Alex could read my mind.

“I’m sure you’ve thought about trying it at least once. We all have secret sexual fantasies. You can be honest with me. We are not likely to meet again are we?”

I paused and gave the matter a little thought. My voice, when I did speak, was not much more than a whisper, as though I was revealing a confidence.

“Yes, I suppose I’ve thought about it, but…”

“But you haven’t had the nerve to take it further? That’s quite normal, Belle. A lot of people are curious, but not all of them take it further.”

“What about you? Do you…?”

“Most certainly. I’m a Dominant, but I don’t have a permanent submissive at the moment. I suppose many people would call me a player. I like to play with a variety of women, and it’s a big part of my life. There are a lot of submissive women out there who are happy to play with me, more than you would think. Not every woman wants a happy ever after romance.”


I didn’t really know what to say. It’s not every day that a stranger tells you about their sexual preferences. But I had to say that hearing him talk about it gave me a pleasant feeling between my legs. It was definitely turning me on. But I tried to push the thoughts from my mind.

Again it was almost as though he was reading my mind.

“Am I causing you to have fantasies about what I do? Are you becoming just a little excited, thinking about it?”

I answered quickly and a little harshly.

“Of course not. Don’t be stupid. I think I need to sleep now.”

He didn’t reply and I closed my eyes and tried to drop off, but I was too hyped up. I was picturing Alex doing all sorts of things to women and I had a strong urge to push my fingers down the front of my jeans and between my legs. But of course he knew that, my mind-reading companion.

“It’s okay if you want to touch yourself. Don’t mind me.”

I was annoyed. How presumptuous of him to think that I would want to masturbate to thoughts of him with his submissive. He was right, of course, but there was no way in hell that I would do it with him in earshot.

I turned over twice in an attempt to get comfortable on the bare bedsprings and to try and sleep, but it evaded me. I turned on to my back and began to think about what we’d discussed. I thought about a woman bound over a spanking bench and Alex, stripped to the waist, using a flogger on her, and the mental picture excited me. My hand crept down my body. I’d already unfastened my jeans so it was easy to slide it down the front and inside my panties. My finger found the damp area between my legs and I began to rub one finger across my clit. Oh God, I wanted to groan, but I wasn’t sure if Alex was still awake. He was.

“Let yourself go, Belle. Don’t mind me. I’ll talk to you if it’ll help.”

I didn’t respond, but he continued talking anyway, in a soft, unhurried way.

“I have a submissive called Melanie. She was new to the scene when I first met her, but she was very willing to learn. She loves it when I fasten her to a cross and use a riding crop on her. I am a good Dom. I know how to turn a woman on without doing lasting damage. Some men are too harsh, but I like to take a woman to the limit of her endurance and just a fraction over, and then I like to give them a spectacular orgasm, one that they will still feel for days. Or sometimes I will just bend a woman over my lap and stroke her bottom, before I spank her with my hand. That’s a very intimate scene and one that most women really enjoy.”

I was breathing hard now. The pictures in my mind made me so hot and bothered and I no longer cared whether Alex could hear me. He continued to talk in his low, seductive drawl.

“Picture yourself, Belle, in such a scenario. Your Dom watches as you remove your clothes. He tells you to stop when all that remains are your stockings and heels. He tells you to leave them on and to walk across the room and back. He loves to watch your undulating bottom and your swaying hips, which you sway just a little more than usual because you know he likes it. He tells you to get down onto all fours and crawl towards him, and you do because you are feeling wild and feral. He strokes your hair, and lifts your face to kiss you gently on the lips. He tells you to climb on to the bed and remain on all fours, and he moves your legs just a little further apart so that he can see the place he knows he will be entering very shortly. Then he draws his hand back and smacks you hard on your bottom. You cry out, but inside your sexual core the pain turns to a deep longing. You need to feel the pain. It makes you feel excited and turned on. He slaps you again and again on alternate cheeks, and you can feel the heat on your bottom as your sexual need continues to climb. You’re gasping and groaning. You want him inside you, but he won’t do that until he’s ready. He touches you and strokes you and then…”

He paused for a few seconds and I stopped breathing.

“…he powers into you, again and again, until your mind reaches overload, and you come crashing into your climax. You’re lost in another dimension; one you didn’t know existed. The pleasure you feel throughout your body is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You call his name and he answers you with a final thrust, before he too reaches Nirvana.”

I let go of the breath that I’d been holding back and went spiralling into a wonderful orgasm that seemed to go on forever. I whispered to Alex.

“Thank you.”

Within minutes I drifted off to sleep, but vaguely remember him saying to me “You’re very welcome, Belle.”

The next morning I woke to see the snow had stopped and the sun was streaming through the window. Already the snow was beginning to melt. I looked over to see that Alex was awake. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I said nothing. I fastened my jeans under the cover of my jacket and rolled off the bed to put on my hiking boots.

Within minutes we were ready to leave. We opened the door and stepped out on to the snow. Silently we walked down the path until we came to a fork. I knew that the route to my car lay to the left, but Alex’s route lay to the right. This was the parting of the ways. I put out my hand to shake his, but instead he grasped my hand and pulled me towards him and kissed me gently on the lips.

“Goodbye Belle. Have a safe journey.”

We both turned and walked away from each other and within minutes he had passed out of sight. I walked for two hours on the crunchy snow, now glistening in the sunlight, and smiled as my car came into view. It had been an interesting walk, a very interesting walk.

Picture: Shutterstock

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