Finn’s Job Transformation ♡ (Part 3)

Of course, things were complicated by the fact that Astrid’s family all thought he was a girl.

He smiled and shook his head. “Liao Mo-Chou, ma’am. Like the actress.” He suppressed a frown. He’d gone along with it initially, for Astrid’s sake, but surely this couldn’t last forever. They must have been wondering about his voice by now, right? At least to his ears, he sounded like a guy, and he wasn’t making any particular attempt to disguise that.

Fuck it. He may as well tell them himself before they found out. He cleared his throat. “My English name is Finn–”

“Finn– Finnea!” Astrid jumped in with a smile. She had a fetching red ribbon in her bun today, and was wearing a simple sweater – she clearly hadn’t gone all out like “Finnea” had. She grabbed Finn’s hand, swinging it back and forth as she grinned at her… maternal grandmother, or maybe paternal grandmother, without a trace of guilt. “Finnea, but Finn for short. We didn’t have any boys in our group of friends, so we used to joke that she was the ‘boy of the group’. She has kind of a husky voice, after all.”

Astrid’s grandmother huffed and crossed her arms. “I’m glad you’re calling her by her full name now. It’s trendy these days, girls acting like boys and men acting like women, but it’s just not right. Not only that, but girls and boys mixing freely – it only leads to bad things. You’ve always been such a good girl, Huihui, not like some of the girls in your school. I hear all these horror stories about girls getting pregnant and the father not being in the picture… it’s just such a pity, it really is, but they should have known better than to get so close to boys at that age.”

She squinted at Finn, who tried to match Astrid’s dutiful-daughter demeanor and cheerful expression. “You haven’t come into contact with any of that stuff, have you, Mo-chou? I know you’ve been my granddaughter’s friend for a long time, but that’s quite an unusual hair colour, so you can hopefully understand my suspicion.”

“N-no, ma’am. I just like fashion – I’m actually quite a shy person. Other than Astrid, I don’t have many friends…” He hoped he wasn’t blushing.

Astrid smiled and nodded, and squeezed Finn’s hand. “You don’t have to worry about me, Grandma! I wouldn’t even know where to start with all that sex stuff. I’m just focusing on my work for now.”

“That’s good, that’s good. Hairdressing, isn’t it? You know, your grandfather and I were always hoping you would be a doctor, but with your grades maybe that was too much to expect…” She sighed and shook her head. “Never mind that. Mo-chou-ah, what do you do for work?”

“Uh– I work for the procurement department of a materials company. It’s nothing flashy, but it pays the bills.”

“Hm, I see. The kind of thing you could leave quite easily once you got married, then.” She clicked her tongue. “Introduce my granddaughter to some respectable men from your company, will you? It’s about time for her to settle down with someone.” Finn could only give her a polite nod.

After a few more tiring conversations with a few more extended family members, Astrid and Finn found a quiet corner and sat down together, deflating slightly.

Astrid looked at Finn. “I’m so glad you came up with this idea. Not only have you made this gathering a lot more bearable for me by just being here – it’s really funny seeing all my relatives fall for it.” She leaned back, knitting her fingers behind her head. “Hook, line and sinker. I suppose now that I’m an adult, they’d be happy if I brought a boyfriend home for Chinese New Year, but I would have had to make up a story about meeting you at work.” She smiled. “This way is more fun.”

Finn pouted. “I wasn’t serious, you know? I can’t believe you actually made me follow through on that.”

“Don’t lie to me, you’ve been enjoying this.”

“Have not.” After a moment, he pressed his lips together. “Well – maybe your grandmother’s water chestnut cake has been worth the trouble.”

“Right? It’s so good.”

“Water chestnut cake in general is underrated.”

“It really is. It’s better than carrot cake.” Astrid looked out of the window a bit, coming up with words. “Back in high school, didn’t you say you wanted to be an astronaut?”

“Hah, you still remember that?” Finn smiled and played with the end of one of his ponytails. He’d styled his hair the same way Astrid had that first time, in an attempt to be festive. “Yeah. But, you know, even with a physics degree and good grades, there are so many other candidates for so few positions…” He shrugged. “At least my degree got me a decent job. It’s pretty stressful, but it’s better than being unemployed.”

“Mm.” Astrid tilted her head. “Stressful how?”

“You know, the usual.” Finn sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Unreasonable boss, frequent ‘optional’ after-work parties. Lots of overtime.” He bit his lip. “Lately, pervy coworkers, too. I’m not blaming you at all, just– after the extensions, it’s gotten worse.”

“You say ‘the usual’, but it doesn’t sound usual to me at all. At least, I’ve never experienced it.” Astrid frowned at Finn, concerned. “The salon is employee-owned, so we set our own hours, and there’s not much of a power differential between the regular hairstylists and the boss.”

“You know, after the last time you came for a haircut, we had quite a few people asking for the same hairstyle you had. What if…” She stared at Finn for a moment, then nodded. “What if you came and worked for us? Not cutting any hair, just as an assistant. The hours would be better, the work would be easier, and I know you enjoy it there.”

Finn frowned. “Well… I have rent to pay. I doubt the salary for an assistant position would be enough for my apartment.”

“Then just come live with me. Easy. I’ll pay most of the rent, and you just keep acting as you have been.” Ignoring the way Finn’s jaw dropped, Astrid continued, “If you have fewer hours than me, you can spend that time at home doing all the chores. Mutually beneficial, right? You get super low rent, I get a free helper.”

“I–” Finn coughed. “I can’t. My contract still has a while left in it, and the cancellation fees are…”

“Mm.” Astrid bit the side of her lip. “I’m sure there’s some way to give you a high salary from the get-go. In the long term, you could just do cosmetology training, but for now… I’ll ask my boss. Have a think about it, alright?”

Finn nodded, but didn’t bring it up again. Especially not the idea of living with Astrid, waiting for her as she got home, cooking and cleaning for her. He ended the day with a full belly and a slightly aching head, dreading his return to work tomorrow.

And indeed, he had cause to dread it. Between the Chinese New Year holiday and his long work-from-home period preceding it, every bad thing about his office was brought into sharp relief. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one actually adding value in his department, and everyone else was either fucking with him, fucking with each other or slacking off as much as they could. Until recently most of his colleagues had fallen into the third category. Now that he looked like a girl, though, more and more people were drifting toward the first.

“That hair… my god, Finn, really, what were you thinking? Did you grow it out for someone to pull, maybe? Hehe. Come over, let me try it, just once.”

“Can you give me the address of the place you do your hair? I have to send my wife there – I can’t believe my fucking coworker looks more effeminate than the woman I go home to at night, and you’re a guy, you know, it’s embarrassing.”

“If you’re going to do yourself up like that, it’s shocking that you don’t go all the way and get some tits. Just saying, I don’t mean to offend or anything. Hell, I’ll pay for half, so will you go buy some hormone pills and fill out a little so that you at least look like a normal woman?”

He was wearing his usual suit and behaving in his usual way, so it was scary how everyone around him had changed so drastically. He talked to HR after a couple weeks of this, but as soon as the lady looked him up and down, he knew how the meeting was going to go. He was sent away with a pamphlet on proper workplace grooming and an “If you want to attract less attention, try getting a normal haircut”.

For some reason, though, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He looked up a barbershop on his phone once, and really did think about going, but this hair – not necessarily the length in itself, but the cuteness of it – felt natural to him now, in a way that surprised him given how recently he’d gotten it. He didn’t want to have to give up a piece of himself just to stop assholes from being assholes. Not just a piece of himself – something Astrid had given him, he thought, as he fingered the end of one lock. So he kept it, and the harassment continued.

It came to a head one day when his boss’s boss, the international department head, visited from overseas in mid-April. The previous evening, Finn had worked past midnight finishing a report and was dizzy with exhaustion, while the rest of his team had given excuses and left at six. Accordingly, Finn was struggling to keep his head up at his desk, while everyone else was annoyingly bright and chipper.

When Finn heard the department head’s footsteps, he urged himself to his feet, only to look over and see his colleagues swarming around the man, filling the air with flattery. “Oh, please,” said the department head, “I’m nothing special. I just put in the effort, cultivated the right attitude and now I’m here. Facing every day with determination and eagerness – that’s how you do it. I’m sure you’re all trying just as hard as I was back then.”

“Now that,” he continued, “is not the right attitude.” Finn had lost his vision for a moment, but he blinked and rubbed his eyes, and saw the department head pointing at him. “Partied too hard last night and now you can’t concentrate, is it? I know some people think their appearance is more important than their job, but if you have time to keep all that dyed hair looking fresh, you really should spend it doing more work.”

Finn was too tired to fully understand what was going on, but in a second, he felt a hand around his waist, felt the side of his chest pressed against a heated torso. “How about I bring you over to my branch as a spare secretary?” He could smell sour breath coming from above him, and a sense of horror started to creep in. “I’ll teach you how to work hard, and in the meanwhile, you can actually put that pretty face to some use–”

“I quit.”

“…Excuse me?”

“I’m quitting this job.” Finn’s brain caught up to his mouth and realised what he’d just done. He knew he should probably regret it, but he really didn’t right now. “I’ll send in my written notice soon, but for now–” he wrested himself out of the older man’s grip– “I’ve told you verbally, so I’m going to leave.”

The fact that he’d just quit his only job since leaving the military started hitting him, and he was aware that the department head and his colleagues were saying things to him, but the fatigue and the shock meant he wasn’t hearing a single word. Mechanically, hazily, he packed his things and left the office.

He’d never done this before. The sexual harassment had made things worse, but they had already been bad, likely bad enough to warrant quitting a long time ago, he thought in the lift, entirely detached from himself. So if he had kept going for so long, what had finally triggered him to quit today?

The answer came to him quickly, perhaps because he had been able to come up with the question in the first place. It was because he had another job lined up. In a sense. Oh, god, he didn’t really have another job lined up, did he? They’d said all that about the salary not being enough, and him needing to move in with Astrid, and him not being able to move in with Astrid – and now he’d quit, and that was the only way.

By the time the lift reached the ground floor, Finn had more or less re-entered his body, and was not as panicked as he should have been. He’d just have to talk to Astrid about that job. Everything would be fine – she’d known what to do with him the past few times, she would know what to do with him now.

(Maybe it would be better than fine.)

(Maybe when he’d quit, he hadn’t been running away from anything.)

(Maybe he’d been running toward something.)

He sat down in a cafe in the lobby, pulled out his phone and texted Astrid “Hey, I quit my job. You wouldn’t happen to still have a position open at the salon?” Then he swallowed, ordered a cup of coffee, and started to recover from what he’d just done.

Astrid texted him back quite quickly that she’d talk about it with her boss.

A day later, she said it was looking good – a week later, she told him to start eating a serving of green papaya every day.

A week after that, a bottle of pills and a stack of hundred-dollar notes came in the mail.

Finn grabbed the money as soon as he saw it. One, two, three– fifteen. A thousand five hundred dollars. Holy shit. That was enough to live on for a month, including rent. Was the salon paying him a salary already?

Fueled by the money, his hands shook as he picked up the pill bottle. It was completely unmarked. It would have been one thing if there was no label, because then it might have been pulled off – but there was a label on this bottle, a completely blank white one. What was this, to warrant fifteen hundred dollars being sent along with it?

Oh – there was a little note inside. Finn opened it. It was Astrid’s handwriting, although a little neater than in their school days. “Take one per day, at the same time every day. Apparently a lot of people prefer to take them in the evening, because they can cause nausea!” it said.

Finn turned the bottle around in his hands, just to check – and there really was nothing written on it. Did Astrid really expect him to trust her enough to take mystery pills?

Well. He didn’t have a job, and this was going to lead him to a job. Plus, he did trust Astrid, quite a lot.

He started taking them before bed. Nothing really changed – he didn’t get the nausea that Astrid had mentioned, and he just spent his time eating papaya, gaming, and taking care of housekeeping things that he hadn’t had time to do while he was working. Being unemployed was really giving him the chance to relax.

Even though he’d been sent some money, now that he didn’t have a steady income, he tried to cut down on expenses. He started having oats for breakfast, made rice with an egg most days for lunch, cut down on meat and stopped buying snacks. It was tough having his meals get more boring just as the rest of his life had gotten so monotonous too, but he stuck with it for the sake of leaving his savings mostly intact. As an unexpected side benefit, his skin got better, he lost some weight, and he could have sworn his hair was getting shinier too. Sometimes his chest felt a little sore, but he assumed it was just aches and pains from changing his diet so suddenly.

He spent a little while each day applying for jobs, but nothing came in. Given that the salon had paid him, and considering how hard he had been working until just now, he couldn’t bring himself to mind too much.

A month later, after Finn had taken about a quarter of the pills and gotten thoroughly sick of green papaya, another package arrived.

It was a little smaller than last time. Finn cautiously opened it to reveal another wad of cash (he counted it) of fifteen hundred dollars, and instead of more pills, a set of clothing. Finn shook them out – it was a white cropped tank top, and denim hot pants. A note fluttered out of one of the legs.

“Put these on (make sure your underwear doesn’t stick out of the pants!) and come to the salon by 10am on Monday. Put on some of that make-up I gave you as well! The boss said yes to hiring you, and Monday will be your first day working in the store. Break a leg!”

Astrid’s handwriting again. Monday was tomorrow, Finn thought, so it was good that the package hadn’t arrived any later. More pressingly… he held up the tank top. It dangled down about an inch past his nipples.

Was he really supposed to wear this in public?

He spent the evening trying the outfit on, hoping against hope that he had underwear that would fit under the hot pants, but gave up when even his one pair of briefs jutted out over the top. Everything showed in that outfit, from his belly button to his nipple barbells to the bottom of his butt. God. He’d have to be very careful doing anything but standing still, and he doubted they would have employed him just to stand still.

The next morning, he woke up early to get the make-up right. Despite having held on to the stuff Astrid had given him before Chinese New Year, he’d never actually used it. Well, that wasn’t quite true – he’d tried on the lipstick. And the blush. And the eyeliner, unsuccessfully. But he’d never done a full face of it, and he’d never had it on anywhere where people could see. So this was going to take a few attempts. He gathered it all on his desk, braced himself and went at it.

Luckily, thanks to his earlier explorations, he only needed three do-overs and a Youtube tutorial to get him looking passable. He had to give up on the eyeliner, but everything else looked right – the subtle blush, the fluffy mascara, the bold red lip. Okay, maybe he could have chosen a different video, but this was the first one that had come up, and it had had a lot of views, so he’d thought it would work! And he was right, even if the look had ended up more, ah, dramatic than he had meant it to.

That didn’t matter. It was 9:35. He packed his backpack and pulled on the clothes from the package with nothing underneath, then threw on the pair of red pumps that had come with the qipao last time and left his house.

The walk was as short as always, objectively, but it had been the right call to leave a little early. Finn had learned to walk in heels somewhat from that day he’d visited Astrid’s house, but now he couldn’t ignore the way they changed his posture, made his back arch and his hips rise. He’d at least left his hair flowing down over his body, which gave him some sense of security, but it wasn’t long enough to cover the little bit of buttcheek that was showing out of each pant leg. If he rushed, he’d trip over his own feet, so that wasn’t an option either.

In the end he just put his head down and powered through it. Were people staring at him because of how scantily he was dressed? Were his make-up skills not as good as Astrid’s, making it obvious he was a man in woman’s clothes? (Somehow it made him profoundly uncomfortable to think of himself that way, so he shook his head and shoved it aside.) Or maybe– he couldn’t expect this of anyone, not at all, but it would be really nice – were they staring at him because he was pretty?

That thought cheered him up a little, and he had significantly less trouble walking the rest of the way to the store.

When he arrived at the salon, he was greeted with Astrid’s raised eyebrows and a wolf whistle. “Well hello, Finnea. Who taught you to do your make-up like that?”

“I– I followed the first tutorial I saw. I didn’t realise it was going to be this, ah…”

“It’s fine, it matches the rest of your outfit. Come in, I’ll get the contract and tell you what you have to do for today.”

Finn wobbled in through the door of Beauty Command Studios, for the third time in total and for the first time as an employee. As far as he remembered, the shop opened at 10:30, and accordingly there were no customers, just a few stylists setting up for the morning. Some gave him a curious glance, then returned to their work.

Astrid led Finn to the back corner where a small desk stood, with piles of papers around the edges. She pulled a few sheets off the top of one of the stacks, then laid them out for him. “So this is your employment contract – since you’re new, it’s for a year, but if nothing goes wrong you can renew after this one ends for two years, and then again after that and so on.”

She ran her finger over the small print, then pointed at a few figures. “Your salary is going to be three thousand a month, which should be enough to keep that flat of yours. You get meals and other work-related expenses comped, and bonuses once a year. My boss is technically your boss, but she’s never around so I’ll be your direct supervisor.”

She moved her finger to a line at the bottom of the page. “Sign here and you’re all good.”

That sounded… really good. “…What am I going to do, for three thousand a month? I don’t have a cosmetology license or anything, so the only other thing I can think of is cleaning and reception work and stuff, and that’s not…”

“Don’t worry, I worked something out with my boss, so you’ll be earning that money properly. You’re not getting overpaid out of pity or anything.” She tapped the line. “Go on.”

Finn gulped. He found and skimmed through the “Duties” section of the contract, but it was super vague, all about “whatever is required”. Knowing this place, that could be anything… oh. Oh, wow. Actually, thinking back to his previous experiences here, he found that he didn’t really mind the thought of that. Besides, did he really have any better options?

Really, nothing much was being decided here – he’d known this was an option from the beginning, and he’d locked himself into it as soon as he’d quit his job, even if he had made a cursory effort to job-search. He exhaled, filled his mind with that thought, and signed the contract.

“Great!” Astrid nodded, then gave Finn a pat on the head, making him scrunch his nose a little. “This’ll be fun,” she continued, moving over to take him by the shoulders from behind. “Up until now I’ve only had access to you for a day at a time, but now… now I get to do whatever I want to you,” she said right next to his ear, “every day.”

Finn squeaked and jerked away, but Astrid was already heading out into the main body of the salon. “So,” she said, “your first job will be pretty easy. When a customer comes in, you ask them what drink you want, and then you make it and serve it to them,” she pointed to a little counter with a coffee-pot and kettle, “over there. When there’s nobody to serve, you sweep the store with that broom and dustpan over there. And those two will probably keep you busy, but if you do have any spare moments, you wipe down any station that a customer vacates with that set of cleaning supplies there. Any questions?”

Finn shook his head, and Astrid nodded. “Alright. That starts when your first customer comes in – for now, just sit and watch what the rest of us are doing. You should be able to take over some of this stuff eventually.”

She directed Finn to a stool, and he obediently sat and watched as Astrid and her fellow stylists answered calls, prepped tools and liquids, and generally got ready for the day. They finally flipped the sign on the door at 10:30 sharp, and a few minutes after that, the first customer came in.

Finn moved to ask her what drink she wanted, but Astrid rushed up to him. “I forgot one thing,” she said. She stretched out his tank top a little, then pinned something to it – Finn looked down. It was a little name tag saying “I’m a trainee! Please be patient with me.”

Oh, okay. That was pretty normal.

Finn walked over to the customer, a lady in her fifties wearing a skirt suit, and attempted a customer service smile, although in this get-up he couldn’t do it nearly as easily as back in the office. “H-hello– welcome to F–Beauty Command Studios! Um– would you like a drink? Before your haircut?”

The lady seemed to register his question, but then took her sweet time answering it – Finn realised after a moment that she was looking him up and down, her eyes raking down the bare skin of his belly and legs.

“Well,” she said. “Am I glad they hired you. You’re a very pretty trainee, I must say.”

“Oh–” Finn cleared his throat. Wow. “T– Thank you, ma’am. Um… would you…?”

“Ah,” she said, and chuckled. “An English Breakfast tea, please. Milk but no sugar, and,” she locked eyes with him, “make sure it’s hot, dear.”

Finn exhaled shakily in a futile attempt to steady himself. “Y-yes, ma’am. Right away.”

He tottered over to the beverage station, feeling a lot less steady on his heels than this morning. He spent a little time figuring out how to boil the kettle and even more time figuring out which one of the teas was the English Breakfast. The reminder to serve it to her while still hot rang in his ears, so he rushed when opening the teabag and nearly ripped it, and actually did spill the milk while pouring it in, but luckily it was all assembled and in front of her in less than five minutes.

“Y-your tea, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” She took a leisurely sip, then casually grabbed his ass and squeezed.

Finn’s back shot upright, his face flushed, and he felt something move in the front of his shorts. Holy shit– holy shit–

And then the hand was gone, and the lady was staring at him with an amused look on his face. “Bring me another cup when I’m finished with this one, alright?”

“Y-y–” Finn’s voice was more high-pitched than he’d realised was possible. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

He wobbled away, had to catch himself on an unoccupied chair, and watched dazedly from his stool as Astrid buzzed all of the lady’s hair off.

The morning proceeded in roughly the same fashion. At least half the customers complimented his appearance to his face, and he could have sworn the rest muttered about him to each other while he was off pouring coffee or sweeping up hair. He got a lot of butt- and thigh-gropes, a few chest-grabs, and two spanks to his ass, luckily neither of which happened while he was carrying hot drinks. Someone even poked at his nipple piercing through his shirt. One time, while he was reaching down to empty out a waste-bin, he heard a wolf-whistle and looked back to see a young guy with pink eyelashes winking at him. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out – in the end he just blushed and nodded.

Honestly, what was with him today? Back in the military, this would have destroyed his psyche. It would have been mortifying, having to mince around in heels and these tiny shorts and serve people coffee, having all of his army buddies see and having to wait for their response later in the barracks. In the office, never mind the outfit, even just the hair had brought him ridicule and negative generalisations.

Here, though, even as these people were being much more explicit with him… it didn’t feel like they were degrading him in the same way. It was pretty objectifying being cat-called like this, sure, but– something about it felt more right, somehow.

Oh well. Rather than dwelling on it and leaving his hands idle, he grabbed the broom and started sweeping up the latest piles of hair.

When lunchtime rolled around, Astrid sent Finn to the nearby hawker centre for eight boxes of chicken rice and one bowl of fish lor mee. He was familiar with the area, so he got there with no trouble. But when the hawker saw him, the man immediately turned away.

“Excuse me, sir?” Finn peeked his head around the hanging chickens. That must have been his imagination – he must not have seen him. “I want to order some chicken rice…”

After another “excuse me?”, the hawker finally walked over, with a troubled expression on his face that Finn had never quite come across before. He looked at his fingers, avoiding eye contact with Finn.

“What do you want?”

“Um. Eight boxes of chicken rice to go, please.”

“…Eight boxes of chicken rice,” said the hawker. He turned around and started chopping the chicken, and Finn could only watch with the sense that something was off. The hawker handed the stack of boxes to him a few moments later, resolutely avoiding eye contact again.

“Thank you!” Finn bobbed his head past the tower of chicken. All he got in return was a quiet grunt, and the hawker pointedly moving to the furthest corner of the shop.

Finn paid, perplexed, got the lor mee and headed back to the salon with the boxes. What was wrong with that guy?

It was only when he was nearly back at the salon that he realised – right, he was dressed as a girl. But he was a guy. The thought felt sour to him. Of course he was going to be treated coldly by older people.

Finn trudged the rest of the way back, and Astrid glanced at his face when she handed him a few bills for the payment. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just– I think the hawker was uncomfortable with the way I looked…”

“Ohh.” Astrid frowned for a second.

For a moment, Finn thought she might somehow disapprove as well – but then she grinned and slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry about it! Once you get better at make-up, I’m sure he won’t give you a second look – if you want, we can train your voice as well.”

She gave him a tight hug, her palms warm against his shoulder blades. “You’re really pretty, alright? Don’t let it get to you.”

Finn really didn’t know how to explain the emotions inside him at that moment, let alone his actions – but he hugged Astrid back.

The hairstylists ate between appointments, because nobody wanted to close the store completely for a lunch hour, and Finn got up three or four times over the course of his meal to serve incoming customers tea. After his meal he went right back to the rest of his duties, and even though he flagged a little because his feet had started hurting in the heels, he never stopped. Over time, the gropes and pinches and wolf-whistles sort of became a sign of a job well done, a pleased customer.

When closing time approached, his head was spinning and he was ready to collapse. He’d taken out at least one full trash can’s worth of disposable cups, each of which he had made and served drinks in during the day, and he could feel the ghosts of dozens of people’s hands on his skin. When Astrid came up to him and rubbed his lower back, he jumped.

“Doing alright there, champ?”

“O–” he coughed. “Of course. Just tired…”

“That’s alright, we’re nearly done. You’ll be in charge of closing up shop from now on, but since it’s your first day today I’ll stay with you and show you what to do, alright?”

If he was supposed to do all the post-closing cleanup, that would explain why he was receiving such a high salary for comparatively simple work, partly. Even a twelve-hour shift of work like this, though, seven days a week, didn’t seem quite enough for three thousand dollars… but he nodded anyway, through his disquiet. “Thanks.”

He served a few more drinks, and then Astrid finally flipped the sign on the door. “Okay! Good job for today,” she said, and gave Finn’s hair a little ruffle. Normally he might have protested, but having been on his feet for so long, he could do nothing but lean into the touch. “Why don’t you go have that fish lor mee while we finish up? You’ll be here for a while.”

As directed, he sat in the wheelie chair and slurped up the bowl of soup noodles as everyone finished with their clients. Oddly, some of those clients stayed after their haircut was done, just sitting in their chairs and chatting. Maybe that was how things were done here, Finn shrugged to himself.

When everyone had put their scissors down, and Finn had just cleaned up his dinner, Astrid came up to him. “Now,” she said, and took a lock of his hair in her palm. “Before we get you all set up… your hair’s grown out quite a bit, hasn’t it?”

“W-well…” Finn blushed a little. “Not quite as much as the first time I came in.” He could feel eyes on him – not just the customers, as it had been for most of the day, but the other stylists too. “The extensions are kind of loose, though…”

“I know,” said Astrid, pulling up a section of his hair to look at the tiny braids underneath. “So loose, aren’t they? Well – we’re going to be fixing that today.”

As Finn’s eyes widened, Astrid grabbed the back of his chair and wheeled him out into the middle of the salon. “Is everyone ready to welcome our new employee to Beauty Command Studios?”

“Yeah!”

“Woo!”

Finn could hear raucous laughter around him, and felt himself going scarlet. It seemed like he was always the center of attention in this salon – and yet none of it was painful, in the way that it so often could be. It was just–

Abruptly, he felt a lock of hair being lifted from the back of his head, a brief tugging and then the sound of scissors.

“W-wait,” he mumbled, tears filling his eyes. “I thought– I didn’t–”

“Hmm?” Astrid sounded like she was grinning, and the sawing continued. “We can’t have you like this, can we? Unkempt, extensions all grown out and dangly…”

There were a few more snips of the scissors, and then a tail of blonde hair landed in his lap. It was mostly his extensions, but when he picked it up and fingered at the top end, he could see a good few inches of his own hair mixed in.

He let out a little whimper, and Astrid peeked her head around. “Wh– oh, honey.”

She walked all the way around to face him, took his cheeks in her hands, wiped away a tear with her thumb. (He’d started crying? He hadn’t realised.) “Shh, shh – you’ll be alright, okay?” As he hiccupped, she brought his face up and gave him a gentle kiss between his eyebrows. “I want to grow your hair nice and long while you work here, and to do that, we need to cut off the bleached bits first, so that it’s all healthy.” She gave his cheek a soft pinch. “We’ll get the extensions out at the same time too. So don’t cry, alright? Just sit still and think about it – in a couple years, you’ll have long, pretty, silky hair.”

She gave him another kiss, this time on the cheek, and Finn came back to himself a little. He’d wanted to get rid of his hair when he’d come in here for the first time – what had changed? Still, he couldn’t deny how he felt. “Do you promise?”

“I promise.” Astrid gave Finn’s cheek a little pat and moved behind him again. “And in the meanwhile, you’ll still look like a very pretty girl with your cute little pixie cut, mm?”

“Y-yeah.” Finn swallowed. He couldn’t believe it, but at some point, it seemed like he’d grown to enjoy looking like this. To… kind of need to look like this. It was odd – he couldn’t reconcile it with his idea of himself in his head. He tucked it away for now.

Astrid picked up another ponytail, and he braced for the feeling of the cut, but instead she looked behind her. “Does anyone want to help out? We’re all going to be working with Finn from now on, so let’s take the opportunity to make some fun memories with him.”

It took a second, but eventually a young stylist with a short bob came up. “Can I?”

“Sure!” Finn felt the ponytail moving behind him, heard some shuffling, and then the sound of the scissors again. A few snips, and another ponytail landed in his lap.

“M-me next!” A short man came in from the left, and took a lock of hair closest to him. “Up to the dyed parts, right?”

“Yep.” Astrid nodded, and Finn felt the man’s chubby fingers brush against his ear as he adjusted his grip. A few snips – and then, the shortened ends of his hair rested atop the helix. His head was starting to feel lighter now. He gulped.

“Oh, he’s so cute! Let me have a go, please.”

“Customers can participate as well, I take it?”

“If you’re a regular, then of course you can!”

People swarmed around him, tugging at his hair, holding scissors close to his scalp, cutting– cutting all at once– his head was spinning. He didn’t move an inch. Oh, god, all his hair – even if most of it was extensions, it’d been months since they’d been put in, and he’d gotten used to having them. Someone’s whole side pressed against his exposed arm. He tried not to squirm.

“Can I keep this?” The end of a ponytail brushed the back of his neck, and he shivered.

“Mm… no, I have something I want to do with them all.”

What would it even be like for his hair to be short again? He wouldn’t go back to looking like a guy– like a regular guy, Astrid had promised as much. Right now, though, the more pressing issue was that there were women surrounding him, grabbing at his bangs, putting their chests in his face…

“Make sure you don’t move your head, okay? I don’t want to cut too much,” said a voice from directly above him.

He squeaked out a “Yes, ma’am,” but felt like he was doing something wrong by not letting her know his nose was between her breasts. Was he? Maybe she was doing it on purpose. He tried not to react excessively.

Whatever happened, at least he wouldn’t get buzzed all the way down like in the military. That had been horrible.

“Oh, he’s going to be adorable when all this is cleaned up.”

There was more short hair than long on his head now, even as two people cut at once – he lifted his hand up to touch it. God, that was– a lot of length gone… hopefully it really was still enough to be cute.

He felt a few more snips and a release from his head. Then Astrid approached again, quietly dismissing everyone that had gathered around Finn. “We’re almost done… just need to tidy everything up, okay? Take out the braids, give it all a good shape.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, and he inhaled sharply – oh goodness, that was short. It had felt lighter, of course, but that confirmed it. He reached up and mirrored her movement on the other side, twice, three times, making her chuckle. “Relax, alright? You’ll look great.”

As others started filing out of the salon, Astrid carefully undid the braids, being very careful with Finn’s scalp. It was dark out by now, and her gentle hands made this feel like a massage, almost – Finn felt himself drifting into a relaxed trance. Even though there were a few people still packing their things, they weren’t staring at him, just glancing over occasionally. It was nice.

One of them came loose, and Astrid placed the extension somewhere behind her, and then the next, then the next. Finn’s head lolled into her hand, and his eyelids fluttered. Tension was being released from his scalp, chunk by chunk, and it felt really good. He was losing a headache he hadn’t even realised he’d had.

After the third or fourth one, Astrid started cutting. Finn tensed as he heard the first snip, but Astrid placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, and one of the cut-off ends fluttered into his palm. He lifted it up a little – it really was short. So Astrid was really trying to leave him with as much length as she could. He exhaled again.

The soft, rhythmic snipping sounds sent him deeper into the trance. When Astrid put her fingers to his cheek and moved his head, he complied without thinking. He could see a young woman watching the two of them, sipping on a bottle of water, but it didn’t really affect him. He just let himself get lost in the feeling of tiny hairs landing on his bare thighs, of Astrid’s hands on his neck, on his shoulder.

“There,” Astrid said, and the snipping sound stopped. She pushed him in front of one of the salon mirrors, then turned him towards it.

Bracing himself a little, Finn looked up.

“Whoa…” He touched a fluffy side-lock. The back had the shape of a normal boy cut, with a little bit of a duck-tail – but the front had been carefully shaped to make his face look smaller, more feminine. There were bangs across the top, coming to just below his eyebrows, and then two side-locks framing his face…

He nodded, his face reddening a little. With the make-up, even though it had been a while since he’d applied it – he just looked like a girl with cute short hair.

“Yeah?” Astrid grinned and ruffled it, and Finn scrunched his nose up. “You like it?”

Finn looked up at Astrid, swallowing. She was being annoyingly cocky, but… he really couldn’t say no to that. “Y-yeah.” He bit his lip. “Thanks. I was worried–”

“I know you were,” said Astrid. “But you never have to worry about something like that with me, got it?”

She smiled, and he felt a sudden surge of gratitude go through him. What had happened to the two of them? It used to be that he was always the one looking out for her, and little by little the roles had reversed. He got the feeling another person might have been embarrassed by that… but not him, not with how nice this felt.

“O-okay.” He gave her a sheepish smile back.

“Good boy,” she said, and he felt his heart flutter a little.

“Now,” she continued, “you remember when I said I’d work something out with the boss to get you a higher salary?”

“Mhm.”

“And you ended up getting three thousand a month.”

“Yeah.”

“And for the last month, you’ve been eating green papaya and taking hormone pills.”

“Ye– hormone pills!?”

“Mhm.” Astrid blinked. “The feminising kind, estrogen, progesterone, domperidone. Why are you surprised? Didn’t they say on the label?”

“No! They– they were unmarked!” Finn was aware of a very strange expression on his face, and looked away from the mirror to at least shield himself from having to see it. It was probably somewhere between horror and elation.

“Oh, okay.” Astrid paused. “You didn’t think to ask me what they were?”

“No– well–” Finn blushed harder this time, and a nervous smile slipped out of the emotions warring on his face. “I thought it was some kind of test… to show I trusted you…”

“Oh,” said Astrid again, chuckling this time. “Okay.”

She leaned in and gave Finn a light kiss on the lips. It was warm – she smelled good. Her lips were soft. Finn chased her face with his a little bit as she pulled away. “You did very well, then,” she said. Her lips were red in the middle, the same red as his lipstick. “Good job.”

“…Thanks.”

She gave him a little pat on the head, and Finn found himself focusing on it, trying to enjoy it. “Anyway,” she said, “going back to the point I was trying to make.” The last stylist in the salon, other than Finn and Astrid, waved and left the store. “Let’s actually get you prepped for your evening shift.”

Finn felt like Astrid had been hinting at something, but had no idea what green papaya, of all things, implied. As for hormone pills – oh, god, he’d been on estrogen of all things for a month now, he could only imagine how his body would change, little by little, getting softer, prettier, oh goodness – ahem. Getting back on track. Astrid could have wanted him on these hormones for any number of reasons, knowing her. How was he supposed to guess?

“While I take care of things over here,” she said, breaking him out of his thoughts, “why don’t you do a little bit of this yourself? First, I need you to take out your nipple piercings, and put them in this little baggie – second, put this in your right ear.”

Astrid opened one of the drawers of her equipment trolley, and pressed the baggie and some yellow plastic into his hand. Finn looked down – it was a livestock tag. It was attached to a regular earring pin with a regular back, instead of the big stud thing for real animals, and it had the number 143 on the front.

Livestock… pig? Sheep? Maybe Astrid was going to make him grow out his hair and then sell it all every year – no, she wouldn’t do that, not after what she’d promised him earlier. He took the tag by the bottom, and with a little fumbling, got it in his ear, and laboriously fastened it on with the other half.

Now for the other thing. Finn swallowed, turned away from the shop window, reminded himself that he’d been completely naked in here before, and pulled his top off his chest.

He revealed the two little gold barbells that he’d been seeing every day in the shower, and sighed. On one hand, he was glad he’d get a break from them. On the other hand, what on earth could this lead to?

He pinched at his nipple to unscrew one of the balls, and something clicked in his mind. He pulled out the first barbell, gingerly, blushing a little, started unscrewing the second. Nipples… livestock… hormones… green papaya…

“H-hey,” said Finn, looking at Astrid over his shoulder. She was doing something with his severed extensions. “If you’re having me wear a livestock tag… what animal am I supposed to be?”

“Hm?” Astrid tied something off in her hands, then looked over. “Oh– well,” she said with a little chuckle, “you’re going to be my little cow-boy.”

That did things to Finn he wasn’t expecting. “O-oh,” he mumbled, dropping one of the barbells. He ducked down and scrabbled it back up, then dropped both in the baggie, then looked up at Astrid helplessly. “You– really?” Holy shit. Okay. So then– that meant– he looked down at his chest. Oh, fuck. His head swam a little.

“Now,” said Astrid. “Instead of cutting your clothes off like the last few times… why don’t you strip the rest of the way for me, and then we can have a little fun before you get hooked in?”

Hooked in? What the fuck was he going to be ‘hooked in’ to? Losing his grip on reality, Finn stared at Astrid, and Astrid sat back in the wheelie chair. “Go on.”

O-okay. Okay. Finn licked his lips nervously, then looked at the floor, then glanced back up at Astrid’s eyes. He’d already pulled the top up to his armpits – the first step was already done.

He curled his fingers under the hem of the crop top – swallowed – then slowly, bashfully, a little teasingly, lifted it up. Up to his shoulders – over them, onto his biceps. Up to his elbows, and then off. He deposited it in a little pile on a counter, and his legs shifted. He could feel the draft of the air conditioner on his shoulder blades.

Next, the pants – honestly, these pants were really short, he thought again. He unbuttoned the waist, undid the zipper – they were basically underwear, weren’t they? Then he hooked a thumb into the waistband of his pants, tugged one side down, then the other side. Down past his hips, his knees – and then off.

“T-there,” he said, his hands awkwardly resting on his thighs, as Astrid whistled and interjected, “You went commando?”

“W-well– well, nothing fit underneath these things! They’re so short.”

“Sure,” said Astrid with a nod.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the salon mirror, and he nearly overbalanced. He looked… god, he looked stunning. He’d never really liked looking at himself in the mirror, especially after puberty, but his money-saving diet and the hormones he’d apparently been on had really changed his figure. His arms were smaller, his waist was nicely shaped, and his chest and hips had a subtle roundness to them. He didn’t think he had breasts yet, but he definitely looked– well, androgynous, if not outright female.

Holy shit. He twisted his hips a little, wanting another angle, and Astrid chuckled. “Nice, huh? It’ll keep getting better as you keep taking those pills.”

“Anyway – we won’t do this every time, but since it’s your first day, I want to dress you up a little. Close your eyes,” she said, and Finn did it without a thought.

There was some shuffling and a light pressure on his head, then a spraying sound, a coldness around his face and neck. Finn felt a poke in each nipple, and his arms and legs were lifted one by one, something being slid onto each. There was a pressure on his nipples now, and something cold running down his chest.

Finally, a headband was placed on his head. “Okay, open up!”

Finn opened his eyes, and – yep. Cow.

The headband, it turned out, was a pair of cow ears, with little yellow horns between them. Under the headband, his hair had been sprayed white, with little patches of black left in places (he assumed Astrid had blocked the spray with something there). Going further down, there were cow-print fingerless gloves going up to the middle of his biceps, and cow-print thigh-highs on his feet (his shoes were gone).

Most pressingly, his nipple piercings had been filled with two golden rings, connected to each other with a Y-shaped golden chain. The long end of it went all the way down past his naked cock.

“S-so…” Finn gulped. He had a vague idea where this was leading, but had no idea how he was going to be, well, “milked”.

“Mm,” said Astrid. “I was planning on keeping you in that top and shorts every day, but I think the customers will want to see you serving drinks in this…” She tugged at the chain and sent a spike of pain through Finn’s back, and he yelped and stumbled forward. “They’ll like pulling you around, I think. Anyone who comes here will know not to yank too hard.”

She stood, glanced over her shoulder at him, and started very slowly walking along the line of chairs, chain in hand. Finn trotted along behind her, his eyes locked on her fingers – if he slipped on his socks and fell, it was over, so he tried his utmost to keep his balance.

In fact, he walked too slowly, and the chain went taut for a second – a flash of pain went through his chest. He stumbled forward to try and keep pace with Astrid, bumped into her face-first, bounced backward and sent the rings straining yet again. Tears pricked at his eyes. Still, he followed her without a word of protest, because Astrid was Astrid, and she clearly wanted him to be walking around right now.

After one more yank, he felt like he’d gotten the hang of it. He kept pace with Astrid, who had an eye turned back at him, and made sure the chain always dangled down past his stomach. He’d gotten good at heeling her, he realised with a little twist of arousal.

Seeing this, Astrid’s eyebrow raised. “You learn quickly,” she murmured, and gave his head a little pat. “But, you know– you’re so cute when you’re squeaking and yelping…”

She let go of the leash, sauntered back over to the desk, and picked up a braid. A braid made out of his old extensions, it looked like – it was tightly wound, and tied at the ends with several dark rubber bands. She held the cut end with one hand, and whipped it into her other palm– ah, that was what was going on.

“Let’s get you a little more excited, shall we~?”

She darted over and flicked the whip at his lower back, and a jolt of pain went over his skin. How could it actually hurt? It was just hair, and yet the rubber bands gave it the quality of a slap where it hit him. Not only that – somehow Astrid seemed to know just where to aim.

She reached around in front of him, whipped him again, and the sting on his buttocks made him stumble forward, and then the painful tug to his nipple made him trip backward, and he fell and hit his tailbone which hurt even more. Overwhelmed, he put his face in his hands.

Above him, he could hear Astrid giggling. “God, I was right– you’re just so cute like this… come on, let’s get you in the machine.”

Still holding the leash, Astrid whipped and bumped him toward the edge of the salon. She left him panting and shivering on the floor, slowly trying to recover, while she popped into a storage closet. There was a low rumbling sound, and when she emerged again, she was pulling something at least two heads taller than her, all silver metal and intertwining cylinders. Some plastic tubes, a few sterile storage tanks, leather straps, what looked like electric pumps – and several elongated suction devices at the ends of the tubes, dangling off the top of the metal frame. Oh, fuck.

“What do you think? It’s the real thing, huh?” Astrid lined it up with the wall, plugged it in and flipped down the wheel locks. “Pretty big investment, but the boss did the math and said we should start making a profit in a month and a half. And your contract is for a year, so – pretty good, huh?” She went on her tiptoes and took the suction cups down, then twirled them around by the plastic tubing. “And best of all – it’s lots of fun for both of us. Come on, let’s get you back on your feet.”

She let go of Finn’s nipple leash and grabbed his shoulders, and together they propped him upright. His head was still swimming after having been played with so roughly, and the sight of the thing he’d be strapped into didn’t help matters.

“Easy now. Left hand up– just keep it there– good. Now the right– now just shuffle your feet apart.” Astrid’s voice had gone quiet. One of her hands was always on Finn’s body somewhere, gently reviving him – thankful for the tenderness, Finn was all too happy to do as she asked. He could feel leather around his wrists and ankles, and then a strap around his underarms, one around his waist, one on each thigh. They were padded – he let his weight rest on them, and nothing pinched or was sore. He could get used to this, honestly.

“Alright,” said Astrid. “Everything nice and comfortable?”

Finn nodded, his eyelids fluttering. It was getting kind of late, and the straps made him feel like he was being hugged all over.

“Great. Now for the cups…”

Astrid left Finn’s side and came back with her trolley. First, her hands went straight to Finn’s nipples – he flinched as she reached for the rings, but rather than teasing him again, she undid them without a trace of pain and laid them on the trolley. Then, she tore open an alcohol wipe, carefully cleaning each nipple. This did sting a little, but it was mild enough for Finn not to outwardly react to it.

She placed one of the suction cups on Finn’s left nipple, making sure it was centred, and briefly pushed down a foot pedal. Finn could hear the whirring of a pump, and felt a slight negative pressure within the cup – when Astrid let go, the cup stayed in place. She did the same to his right nipple as he stared down at his chest.

Having come back to himself somewhat, Finn thought of a question. “Um… what are you going to use this milk for, anyway? Just like– feeding babies?”

Astrid shook her head. “We thought about it, but they only accept natural lactation. Besides, we’re a hair salon, not a maternity clinic – so, we’re doing this instead!”

She pulled up an image on her phone and put it in front of Finn’s face. It was a sketch of a pair of shampoo and conditioner bottles, labelled ‘Command Beauty – Protein Pearl (Made with real milk!)’. “You see? We’ve been doing so many keratin treatments and so on these days – I think we’ll break even pretty quickly.”

Before Finn could verbally respond, she locked the foot pedal down, and the cups started sucking. Finn gasped and let his head drop – fuck, that felt really good. His nipples were so sensitive from earlier, not just from the tugging but from having his piercings taken in and out, that this was turning him on more than he could ever have expected…

“You like that?” Astrid smiled and rested her fingertips on one of Finn’s pecs. Or, what would usually have been pecs on a guy.

To Finn’s shock, they were… sensitive, at the very centre, with a lump of something that was harder than muscle but softer than fat. Was– was that–

She squeezed a little, Finn shuddered, and a little flash of cream-coloured liquid went shooting down the tube. “Good – you’ll be in this thing pretty often.” She shot him a self-satisfied grin.

The suction was gradually getting stronger, which only caught Finn’s notice because the pleasure was getting more intense as a result. To think that something touching just his nipples could feel this good. His hands clenched and unclenched, and even though his eyes were unfocused, he could see more liquid – milk – gradually being sucked down into the tanks below.

Holy shit. He was– he had real, functional breasts, and they were making milk right now. Something inside him felt so deeply fulfilled and he didn’t know why – anyway, there was more concrete pleasure to be focusing on right now.

Just when he was starting to get oversensitive, the milk stopped coming and the suction reached a plateau, and Finn was pleasantly surprised that it was done already. This wouldn’t take very long every day, then. He looked up at Astrid with a little smile, but she returned more of a smirk, which confused him. What was there to look devious about?

Some clunking noises came from the machine. The suction loosened a little – then shrank and pulled hard, and a spurt of milk went down each tube. And then they let go, and sucked again, and let go, and sucked again, and kept going without any sign of pause. The milk had wet the suction cups, so it almost felt like there was a mouth around each of his nipples, drinking from them, teasing them…

Finn whined and felt a shiver go across his shoulders, a blush spreading over his face all at once. “There we go!” Astrid snickered, pulled her phone out and casually snapped a photo. “Now that’s what I call milking. How does it feel?”

“G-gh–” Finn felt his breath coming in fast and heavy. “Haah…”

“I’ll take that as a positive answer.” Astrid’s eyes raked over Finn from top to bottom – he could feel her staring at his gloves and stockings, the little ear tag, the horns, and obviously the suction cups. He looked down to see his nipples elongating and contracting in sync, and followed the tubes down to see the big tank slowly being filled. Currently, there was only enough milk to fill the bottom with a centimeter-deep layer, leaving the vast majority of the tank still empty.

Thp. He had been calculating how long it would take to fill that whole thing, but he looked down in response to the sudden sting on his– oh. His erection. He hadn’t realised, but he wasn’t surprised. In front of him, Astrid was holding the whip made of his extensions again. “What?” She grinned at his questioning expression. “You seem like you’re having so much fun in there – I wanted to join in.”

She got a little closer and rested the very tip of the braid on the base of his penis, then slowly dragged it down the top until she reached the head. He hadn’t been paying attention to his lower half, but this very much brought it into his focus. They were high-quality extensions, and even the ends were silky on the sensitive skin of his cock. He could feel it getting hard the rest of the way, a pressure between his legs.

“You’ll be in here for about two hours…” The tail traced a line down his left hip bone, onto his thigh, then flicked at the bare skin just above his stocking. “Just like this, being milked, of every last drop inside you. Then, it’s your job to clean the pipes, put this tank in the fridge and clean up the store. Once it’s full enough…” She whipped his belly quite hard and he jumped, then tickled at his chest. “…we’ll send it to a little manufacturing facility we set up, where it’ll be mixed into that shampoo and conditioner you saw.”

“Then, people will come to get their hair cut, and we’ll have the bottles lined up next to–” a camera flash– “a little picture of you in the milking machine, so everyone who buys it knows that their hair is getting nice and smooth because of our cute little salon femboy and his fruitful little tits.”

Finn let out an overwhelmed cry, and felt a bead of cum swell up on his tip. His nipples weren’t quite sore, but they felt thoroughly used in a way he couldn’t otherwise articulate. He could still feel every suck of the machine.

“Once your contract runs out,” continued Astrid in a lower voice, “we can move you in with me, hm? Get you a little cushion to sleep on next to my bed, and a set of bowls on the floor to eat from. You’ll wake up early to make breakfast and packed lunches for the two of us every day… maybe we can move this thing back to my place too, so that I can come home to a nice hot dinner… and you’d greet me at the door, and I’d give you a little kiss–”

Finn came. He’d sort of been lost in the fantasy, so he hadn’t realised he was close, but the impact of it sent his back arching as far as it could go against the straps, his hips twitching and bucking. Cum shot miles away across the salon floor, and he could have sworn more milk came out for a few moments as well. He made a strangled, animalistic noise and whited out.

When he came back to himself, the milking machine had been turned off. Astrid was looking at him with equal parts amusement and exasperation, and a little bit of something else too. “I can’t believe you came to something like that,” she said, and whipped Finn’s balls. “You’re such a sap.”

“Ow! Well–” He blushed and looked away. “What do you expect? You know– you know I…”

He couldn’t say it out loud, but Astrid saved him from having to. “Don’t worry,” she said with a little twinkle in her eye. “We’ll get there in no time. In the meanwhile – try and earn as much money for us as you can, alright?”

She approached him, grabbed his shoulder and leaned in, and Finn closed his eyes – but nothing came. Confused, he opened them again to see Astrid bringing down a third suction cup that had been hung on the frame.

“You wasted some of your cum,” she said with a lighthearted frown. “I forgot, but we’re supposed to be collecting that too, you know. There’s not enough protein for a good treatment in just milk, even though there is plenty of fat.”

She put the suction cup over his now-soft cock, stuck it on with the foot pedal, and then turned the whole thing back on. “Just another… hour and forty minutes, okay? And then you can clean the shop.”

He stared at her, wide-eyed, as the cup started rhythmically sucking at his cock. Oh, god, it was already so sensitive…

“I’ll be doing some admin work over there, since it’s your first night.” Astrid gave him a little wave, then turned away. “You’ll be fine, hm? Just relax and enjoy it.”

Finn whimpered and hung his head, feeling his whole lower half start to pulse in time with the suction. Nearly two hours… oh, boy. His nipples were starting to get sore now, and his cock was well into overstimulation. Just how much of an ordeal would this be? The pay was good, but this was just as hard of a job as the one he’d left, it seemed – even though he somehow couldn’t bring himself to hate it..

Meanwhile, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Astrid open a drawer on her equipment trolley. She looked over at Finn and gave him a smirk – then, as if putting on a show, she carefully rolled the hair-whip into a neat loop, and placed it right in the middle of the drawer.

She slowly pushed it closed, and gave him a little wink. “Keeping it safe for later,” she said.