Finn’s Salon Makeover ♡ (Part 1)

Finn was not used to being in a salon. Normally, whenever his hair started getting in his eyes, he went to the barbershop down the street from his house and got his usual scissor cut. The barber was a friendly old man who he had a good rapport with, and the prices were good too. He’d been offered discounts for being such a loyal customer, but he turned them down, wanting to support the man where he could.

But, he sighed to himself, nothing good lasts forever. The old man’s fingers had been failing him for the past few months, and during Finn’s last visit, he had announced his retirement. He was going to go live with his daughter in Canada, he said, and sell the shop to be redeveloped. Finn had expressed his disappointment, wished him well, and they’d exchanged numbers – and then Finn had been left with nowhere to get his hair cut.

So he’d been avoiding it, quite frankly. He didn’t want to go out and try a series of new hairdressers. It’d take at least a month between each one for his hair to grow out again, and he didn’t know how long it would be until he found one that was decent. He told himself that he didn’t have the time, that he didn’t mind his hair growing out a little, and let the weeks pass.

When the hair on his collarbone started itching him whenever he moved, though – he caved. He had to find someone else to cut his hair, even if they ended up being far worse than his old barber, because even if they were, he didn’t want to be one of those long-haired guys who got hit on by mistake, and he wasn’t going to learn how to cut his own hair. So he went on a search.

His first destination one early weekend morning was the internet. Prioritising distance from his house over ratings, he opened up his laptop and typed in “barbershops near me”. It loaded for a few moments as he drummed his fingers on the desk. When the results finally appeared, the old barbershop’s entry was of course gone, but in its place – at exactly the same address – was a salon. So these people had bought the property off his old barber then. The new place was labelled “Beauty Command Studios”, and its map entry showed a white, modern interior with gold and pink accents. Definitely meant for female customers, he thought with a little sigh.

But then… well, it was the closest place to his house, and any other barbershops or salons were at least a half-hour’s walk away. The renovation looked clean and professional for only having been done in a few months, so maybe these people knew what they were doing, and maybe that extended to cutting his hair, too. Either way – he had to at least try it, right? At least once. He couldn’t justify taking the trek to a further place every time unless he knew this salon wasn’t for him.

So that was how, one Saturday afternoon, Finn found himself walking down his usual route to the barbershop. However, it didn’t feel usual at all. He hated the thought that a walk that used to be so comfortably routine was now… not. Maybe he’d get his hair butchered, and he’d never be able to take this walk again without being reminded of a terrible experience, when it had once been so pleasantly reliable for him. But then, maybe this’d be good, he reassured himself, and his haircut routine would end up exactly the same, down to the way there. He steeled himself and kept walking.

The barbershop had been completely overhauled in just a few months. A wall had been knocked down to add an extra two rows of chairs, tiles had been replaced with marble, red and blue with cream and gold. It looked overall more stylish, and more expensive. It seemed like it had been up and running for a little while already – Finn realised, with a little chagrin, that he had been holding off on this haircut for longer than he had realised. Oh well. He wasn’t going to put it off any longer – time to bite the bullet and walk in.

He pushed the door open and set off a little chime. The salon was mostly full, with a few older women and one man sitting in chairs, being worked on by hairstylists of either gender. All of the customers were dressed fashionably and seemed comfortable in a place like this, unlike Finn with his cargo shorts and basic shirt. There was a back door on the opposite side, standing half-open with garbage bags piled up in the adjoining hallway, but a stylist closed the door before Finn could get a better look. She glanced over, and their eyes met.

She walked over to him, putting her broom in the closet along the way. “Hello, welcome to Beauty Command Studios. How can I help you today?” She spoke with a lilting, pleasant voice, her long brown braid swaying as she tilted her head.

It was all so captivating, and– oddly familiar… Finn’s eyes widened, and hers did the same.

“Astrid?” “Finn?”

Finn’s eyes lit up, and he smiled open-mouthed as he tried to find the right words. “A– Astrid! Hi! It’s been so long– I’m really glad to see you doing well.”

“Same here! It’s great to see you again too. I can see why you came,” Astrid said, and jutted her chin toward Finn’s hair. Finn realised that there was a reason he hadn’t recognized her right away – there was a sharpness in her eyes that was new, and she held her back straighter than she had in school. She looked like she’d grown into herself.

“Yeah, well,” Finn grinned sheepishly, “It’s been a while. I don’t really mind, though, I’ve just been pushing it out of my face.”

“Well, clearly you mind a little, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

Astrid stuck her tongue out a little, eliciting a chuckle from Finn. “Fine, fine. I do mind a little.”

Astrid grinned. “Thought so. Anyway – what are you looking for today?” Back in high school, she had been the type to glance back and forth, to stare at the floor. Now, her eyes burned into Finn’s, unbreaking.

“Uh,” Finn said, “I’ve always just gotten the same scissor cut. Actually, I used to get my hair cut here, at the old barbershop – but then the barber retired, and you guys moved in, so now I’m here to try it out.” He shot her a playful look. “I hope you’re as good as he was.”

“Hey, don’t put pressure on me like that,” Astrid laughed. “But if the last time you got your hair cut was before this place started construction… that’s a while ago, huh?” Astrid’s eyebrow raised, her eyes flicking up as she counted the months. “No wonder you look so shaggy. You’re definitely getting a good bit of hair cut today.”

She glanced at Finn and let out a little chuckle.

Finn tried to respond. “Well– I mean–” Somehow, he was only able to avert his gaze, going silent. Was he blushing? He didn’t really blush, ever – he hoped he wasn’t.

Unfortunately, Astrid did seem to have picked up on something. She’d opened her mouth to speak just now, but closed it again, her eyes narrowing just slightly, as if trying to look into Finn’s soul. No – this definitely wasn’t the girl that Finn had known. Not entirely, at least. “Well, what is it that you want?” Her voice had gotten just a touch lower. “If you’re set on the ‘same scissor cut’, I’m sure we can do that, but this is a little more upscale than that old barbershop was. I can zhoozh you up a little, you know.”

She grinned, and Finn found himself blinking rapidly. “Uh– yeah, that sounds fine.”

Astrid huffed. “Fine, huh?”

“You know. Just don’t make it too out there.”

“So you are leaving it to me, then. I can do ‘not too out there’.” She smiled, and nodded her head towards a salon chair, with its black leather covering and accompanying mirror. “Go take a seat. I’ll get you some things to sign, and then I’ll be good to start.”

Finn blinked and said “Wait, you’re going to be cutting my hair?” but she was already walking away, and didn’t seem to have heard him. He sighed to himself – well, wasn’t that just great. The nice thing about having his hair cut by an old man was that there was no chance of getting flustered by the proximity of a cute young hairdresser, touching his hair – especially one that he’d had complicated feelings about in high school. But he supposed he couldn’t reject Astrid outright, not for any reason that wouldn’t be embarrassing to tell her in itself. So he walked over as directed.

He found that he’d been sat next to a young woman, who was inexplicably under a perm hood. She looked like she had rollers over her whole head, but with the translucency of the hood he couldn’t quite tell. He settled into his chair and looked around one more time – it did really look like a fancy place, one that would make him look good. He started to get a little excited. Maybe this’d suddenly make him hot.

Before Finn could get too far into his imagination, Astrid came back with a clipboard and a cup of water. She placed the water in front of Finn and handed him the clipboard. “So, since you’re a first-time customer,” she explained, “there’s a couple things you need to sign.” She held the corner of the sheets of paper, and started flipping through them. “This one on top is an information form, so you fill in your address et cetera, and then a liability waiver down here. This one’s for the family and friends discount – just another waiver, so sign there and there, and then you’re all done. Got it?”

“Sure,” said Finn. He took the attached pen and filled in the sheet on top. He started reading through the liability waiver after that, but that drew an incredulous look from Astrid, so he gave up the idea and just signed everything before handing it back to her.

“Do you actually read everything in these, usually?” She smirked, shaking her head a little. “Like, do you read all the terms and conditions when you’re on your computer?”

Finn huffed. “Well, sometimes. Not usually, though.” That was a lie, but he didn’t want Astrid to think him weird when he’d only just met her again. There was one thing that stood out to him, though. He turned back and asked, “There’s a family and friends discount?”

“Sure we do! It’s just while we’re getting started – they want us to bring in people we know, get the word out that we’re open. And we only have a certain number of slots each, so you’d better thank me for including you in my quota,” she smirked.

Finn chuckled, but Astrid’s eyes stayed on him, so he gave her an offhand “Thanks.” But when she kept looking at him, a curious and yet intense expression on her face, he pressed his lips together, self-conscious. Just what did she want from him? “Thank you for including me in your quota, Astrid,” he said, with a slightly dry tone.

“Good boy. You’re welcome. But keep that attitude to yourself next time,” Astrid said. That sent a weird sensation down Finn’s spine, and he could do nothing but look at her in mild confusion – but then she started giggling, and he let out a little sigh of relief. “Alright,” she said. “Let me just get these filed properly, and then we can start.”

Finn nodded, and took his chance to collect himself a little. He glanced at his seat neighbour briefly, who returned his eye contact with a slightly weary expression. Before he could do anything more, Astrid returned. The first thing she did was to lean on the table in front of him and shoot him a grin. “You never told me your full name was Fitzgerald,” she said. “Fitzgerald Liao – I don’t think anyone knew. How’d you manage that?”

“Oh,” Finn said, and blushed again, when he’d just managed to regain his composure. “Uh–”

“What, are you embarrassed by it?” Astrid grinned. “You don’t need to be, you know. Cute name for a cute guy.”

“I’m– I’m sorry?” Finn blinked. Was this really the same Astrid? Not only was she teasing him like this, but calling him cute in the same breath? The Astrid he’d known would get all flustered if she had to so much as hand something to a guy. And then Finn would call her a little dork and do it for her, and she’d thank him… but she’d never called him cute before. This was doing something to him.

“You heard me,” the new Astrid shrugged. She stared at Finn for a long moment, then glanced to her tools. “Anyway. Shall we get your hair cut?”

“Uh– yeah. Sure. Thanks…” Finn felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. He glanced up at Astrid, only for her to meet his eyes, and then he quickly looked away. This wasn’t how things had been at all. Finn didn’t know whether it was more overwhelming, or… well, thrilling.

Astrid pulled over a cart full of tools. The first thing she did was to throw a cape over his shoulders and fasten it quickly around his neck. Then, she brought out a spray bottle and spritzed Finn’s hair down, getting it decently wet all over. She took a wide-toothed comb and brushed it all straight down as it was wet. Finn stared at himself in the mirror – like this, it was a lot easier to see just how long his hair had gotten. It was all coming down over his ears and neck, and the front of it covered his eyes. He’d just been pushing it to the side until now.

Once Astrid had gotten everything combed out to her satisfaction, she skipped the scissors and went straight for a pair of clippers. Abruptly, Finn realised that Astrid hadn’t actually told him what she was going to give him. “Uh,” he said, “you said you’d ‘zhuzh me up’, so, I was just wondering what that means…?”

Astrid didn’t immediately respond to Finn’s question, flicking the clippers on first. “Trust me, you’ll look great. Just sit tight.”

Wait, what? “Hang on,” Finn said, standing up from the chair. He was sort of boxed in by the table in front of him, so he didn’t get very far, but he managed to turn around and stare at Astrid, who blinked at him in surprise. “Look, you can’t just use clippers on me without at least telling me what kind of haircut you’re going to give me, alright?”

“Actually, I can.” Astrid’s eyes didn’t leave Finn’s for a second. She pressed a button under the table, and Finn gasped as his legs were knocked out from under him by a sudden tilt of the chair. In less than a second, Astrid had shoved him back into the chair, and– was that metal? He pulled away, but cuffs had already closed around his wrists and ankles. He was trapped. Also, what the fuck?

“Astrid,” he said, “what the fuck did you just do to me? Why does your salon have cuffs in the chairs? If this is a prank, it’s not f-funny.” Fuck, he thought to himself. Calm down. Sort out all those complicated emotions and try to respond like a normal person would in this scenario.

“Alright,” said Astrid. Finn looked around frantically – none of the other customers were paying him much attention, he realised with alarm. One or two of them shot him a glance before returning to their own mirror. “First thing you need to know – you don’t get to contradict me anymore. I do something to you, you accept it. I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?”

Finn’s eyes blew wide, and no words formed in his brain, let alone his mouth. Astrid chuckled at the sight. “I know,” she said. “I remember the way you used to look at me, back then. I see the way you look at me now. Don’t think I’m some sheltered little girl that would never notice – well, I was,” she said, “but I’m not anymore. And now that I’m out from under my parents’ thumb, I can finally take what I want.”

She ran her fingers up the back of Finn’s head, running her nails up over his scalp, making him shiver. He’d just gotten way too much information to process at once. For one, this salon had cuffs in their chairs. Also– Astrid knew he was, well, interested in her? And had known for who knows how long? Despite the absurdity of the situation, he felt his heart flutter a little.

That feeling was met with a cold dread when Astrid tugged a metal rod up from the back of the chair, and clasped a metal loop around Finn’s neck. “I’m glad you catch on fast enough not to scream,” she said softly. “Normally, when customers first visit us, we tell them this place moonlights as a sex dungeon – so as far as they know, you’re having all of this done to you because you paid for it. But then,” she continued. “I don’t think you’d refuse this if I let you go. Would you?” To finish off Finn’s confusion, she blew a puff of air into his ear.

“What? Of– of course I would!” Finn suddenly realised he’d been awfully compliant, and tugged at one of his wrist restraints. “I know you’re not the kind of person who would keep me here against my will!”

“Shh,” Astrid said, a smirk on her face. She popped a guard onto the clippers, and then flicked them back on. “I don’t think you want me to stop.” She ran her hand over Finn’s cheek from behind – then she pushed the clippers up the nape of his neck.

Instantly, Finn felt a throb between his legs. Goddammit–! “Stop that!” he cried out, but Astrid just gripped the top of his head by the hair and kept going. She buzzed further and further up, and Finn didn’t dare move, in case she ended up clipping an ear – finally, when it felt like she’d gone all the way up his head, she pulled them away and started buzzing away at another patch next to it.

“H-hh– stop it…” Despite the absurdity of the situation, Finn could feel his gut stirring at the thought of Astrid taking exactly what she wanted from him – at the thought of Astrid wanting him, to be honest. If this was what it took for her to accept him, then… well, it was becoming harder and harder for him to muster up the courage to protest what she was doing. “Just– what are you doing?”

“Well, you’ve let the back of your neck really grow out,” Astrid sighed. “That’s the first thing I’m going to fix.” The neck restraint kept Finn’s head stock still as Astrid buzzed down the entire lower back of Finn’s head, although she didn’t cut the hair hanging down from on top of it. “Then we’ll get to the rest of your transformation.”

“T-transformation? What do you mean? I just came here for a haircut,” he said, although he knew full well that wouldn’t help his situation. He felt the vibration of the clippers with each pass – they were going awfully high up, and the even fluff they left behind was much too short to be covering that much of his head. Was she just going to shave him down, and this was how she wanted to go about it? No, she’d specified the back of his neck…

“You agreed to it when you signed that family-and-friends discount form,” she said, her tone becoming almost casual now. “The discount is 100%. But in exchange, I choose what I get to do to you.” She pressed her clippers all the way up the back of Finn’s ear, then to his sideburn – and then she flicked the hair off. “That’s that part done. Now for the bleach.”

“H-hang on, bleach!?” said Finn, trying and failing to turn around. She was already gone, deep into the back of the shop somewhere.

It wasn’t long before she came back, holding a bowl of white goop with a wide brush sticking out of it. “Bleach,” she said with a little smirk. “Don’t you think you’d look cute blonde? I do.”

“I mean–” As Finn sputtered, Astrid was already pulling the brush out of the bowl, and starting to paint his hair with it. She’d started at the very top of his head, and was working her way down to the buzz. “I guess I’ve thought about dying it at least once– but not bleaching it! I don’t want to look like some kind of delinquent. You should know that, surely.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” giggled Astrid. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be the furthest thing from a delinquent.”

When she was done with him… Finn pulled at his restraints again, but they held firm – he couldn’t stop her from painting the bleach all over his hair, nor would he be able to go wash it off before it did its work. “What do you mean, when you’re done with me? What are you planning?”

“All these questions,” Astrid sighed. “Just sit tight. You’ll find out eventually, okay?” She lifted thin layers of his hair up and applied bleach to every strand, the cold paste gradually warming as it sat next to his skin. “I’m good at this, you know,” she said. “You’ll get a nice, even colour – with regular touch-ups, nobody will be able to tell it doesn’t grow out this way.” She grinned. “Except that you’re Asian, I guess.”

“We’re Asian. You are, too,” said Finn with a little grumble in his voice. He shivered as he felt the brush pressing over the fuzz on the nape of his neck, coating each little hair. So she wasn’t missing that part out, either. “And yes. That’s why I don’t want you dyeing my hair.”

“Well, too bad,” purred Astrid. She applied the last of the bleach to his new undercut, then put the brush down. “Well, that’s all the bleach in. Now we just have to…” She pulled out a roll of cling wrap, of all things, and wrapped Finn’s head in it thoroughly. The bleach was starting to get uncomfortably hot, and this felt like it would just make it worse, he thought to himself with dismay.

“There,” she sighed, her hands on her hips. “It’s done – now we just need to let it sit. Just bear with it if it starts to sting, okay?” She smirked at him through the mirror, then picked up the bowl and disappeared into the back room.

Finn groaned, his head hanging down with despair. Come on, he thought to himself. He’d thought Astrid might just give him a surprise haircut – now all his hair was going to be damaged. If he couldn’t dye it back to black, he’d just need to shave it all off – god knows he’d look terrible bald, but it was better than his boss questioning him about why he’d bleached his hair blond.

By the time Astrid finally got back, Finn’s head was burning. “What’s in this stuff?”

“Relax,” laughed Astrid. “That’s just what bleach feels like. If dainty little 50’s housewives can deal with their scalp being on fire, so can you.” She’d come back with yet another set of tools, which she set down on her trolley.

He watched as Astrid wrapped his head up in clingfilm, presumably to make sure the bleach didn’t dry out, then put her hands on her hips. “Well, since your hair’s baking, I can’t do any more to it for now. I guess we can start on the rest of you.”

She grabbed a small razor from her trolley and came around to face Finn, staring him in the eye. He was trying to protest, to put together some words in his mind to yell at her, but the phrase ‘the rest of you’ had confused him enough that he didn’t know where to start. “What?” she said, a little smirk on her face. “You didn’t think I was going to be satisfied with just a haircut, did you? I finally have you in my hands – I’m going to make you look exactly how I want you to. No exceptions.”

She grabbed his chin with one hand, then with the other, brought the razor… up? Finn’s eyes widened, and he was helpless to stop Astrid as she casually ran them over his eyebrows. First the left, then the right. He desperately wanted to shake her off him, but any movement would just give him a cut on the face, and he really didn’t want to give himself a scar to remind him that all this had happened.

She seemed practiced at it, at the very least. She came away from his face, and Finn was horrified to see his face in the mirror – just as he’d suspected, his eyebrows were completely gone. He couldn’t even emote his own surprise in the way he was used to. “Wh… is me having no eyebrows seriously how you want me to look?” He’d gone past anger at this point, and was well into the territory of shock, perhaps among some other emotions.

“We’ll get there eventually. Don’t pass judgement on it before I’m done,” said Astrid, giving Finn’s cheek a few firm pats that bordered on slaps. “Now, okay. Let’s get these clothes off you so we can get to your body.”

Astrid had said she wasn’t going to pull any punches, but Finn was still dumbstruck by how casually Astrid yanked his shirt up and started cutting it down the middle. “You– there are–”

“Like I said,” Astrid sighed, “people know this place does sex things. Nobody’s going to call the police or anything. They might stare, though,” she smirked. “Ah, there’s one now.”

She glanced over at a younger woman who was quite openly ogling Finn’s chest, and Finn’s eyes widened. Astrid gave Finn’s shirt the last few snips, then cut down the sleeves as well, pulling it away completely. Then she started on the pants.

“Wait–” Finn squirmed a little, grabbing the armrests. “You’re cutting up all my clothes? Being shirtless would have been embarrassing, but how am I supposed to get home naked? Even if in here is a… sex dungeon, or whatever,” he said, “I can’t just go out on the street like this.”

“Firstly, you’ll be getting new clothes eventually. Secondly – like I said, you can stop worrying about all that,” said Astrid. “We’ll get there.”

Finn looked around, and saw more people taking notice of him. With everything that had been going on, he’d lost sight of the fact that this was still a normal-looking, upscale salon – with the exception of what was happening to him. The jagged sound of Astrid cutting off his pants rang out, different to the quiet hum of polite conversation and occasional snips of hair, and it was drawing people’s eyes to him.

Unfortunately, just as he’d had time to process that, his pants came off. “Oh,” Astrid said with a stifled giggle. “I didn’t know you wore briefs.”

“They– look, I need to do my laundry, okay?” Finn frowned, trying to ward off at least some of his embarrassment. “I have all kinds of underwear. N-not to mention you’re not supposed to be seeing it.”

“There’s an easy way to fix that,” said Astrid, and snipped it off in two quick motions. “There,” she said, ignoring how Finn’s face had gone pale.

“That’s a decent bush,” she mused with a light tone. She went back over to her trolley and grabbed her clippers, flicking them on. Suddenly, Finn realised what was about to happen, but didn’t see the point in struggling again. It didn’t stop him from tensing up, though, as Astrid approached his chest with the buzzing clippers.

He felt the business end of the clippers, still cool, push over his skin as they chewed through his sparse chest hair. “Don’t want to blunt my razor, so I’m being safe,” said Astrid mostly to herself, as she made multiple passes over his chest, then moved down to his belly. Finn could feel the cut hair piling up on top of his thighs, light and almost ticklish.

When Astrid seemed to have decided she was done with Finn’s chest, she moved down to his belly, then his thighs and calves. She went decently quickly, but didn’t rush it, passing over each patch of skin multiple times to take it all down to a uniform fuzz. Finn felt a growing sense of dread with each hair that fell – just how changed would he be when this was done? Would he even be able to recognize himself? With how much Astrid seemed to be planning to do to him, he was starting to doubt that.

When she was done with most of his front, she faced his crotch. “You know, people say having a full bush makes your dick look smaller. Maybe that’s what’s going on here.” She smirked, and brought the clippers down onto Finn’s pubes.

A concerningly pleasant wave of vibration went to the base of Finn’s cock, and his breath hitched. He stared down at Astrid, taking strokes down his dense bush with the clippers and mowing it down to nearly nothing, the blades going dangerously close to his shaft each time. They went far down enough that he felt a twinge of pain, and he flinched, but his lower half stayed stock still, knowing very well that things would get worse if he bumped up into the clippers.

Astrid had been doing this without touching his cock at all, but as she finished the easy part above his penis, she came to the hair around and below it. She sighed, and grabbed his cock, briskly pulling it up and running her clippers underneath it.

Finn’s eyes widened, and he rapidly started going red again. Not only was he naked in front of the girl he’d liked in school (which was hitting him anew the more he thought about it), she had her hand all the way around his penis, and the way she was pulling it this way and that to get to all the hair – well, it was doing embarrassing things to him.

Of course, he started getting hard, and of course Astrid noticed. “Whoa there, buddy,” she chuckled drily. “Like I said, don’t get used to this. You’ll be dreading it later, trust me.”

Finn was too flustered to respond verbally, but her reply set off alarm bells in his head. Dreading what? How intense could a makeover possibly get?

Before he could think too hard about that, Astrid buzzed off the last tuft of pubes, and she put her hands on her hips. “So. Finn, or rather, Fitzgerald.”

“Wh– don’t call me that,” grumbled Finn. It threw him off, trying to start a conversation so soon after what had just happened, no less calling him by his full name.

“Fine. Anyway, I’m going to need you to cooperate with me for this next part.”

“I mean– I’ve been cooperating a bit already,” he said sheepishly.

It was true – even with everything she was doing to him, it was still Astrid. Even if he got out of his restraints, he wouldn’t have been able to retaliate against her physically. He would probably just run and forget this whole thing ever happened – maybe even try to get her out of this place, find her a job at a more respectable salon. A hair salon moonlighting as a sex dungeon? There was no way this place was officially licensed. When he got out of here, he decided, he’d try to get her out of here too.

“I guess,” Astrid smirked, “but I need to let you out of these restraints to shave your back side.”

Finn blinked – he’d been deep enough in his thoughts to forget for a second that he’d been in a conversation. “I don’t–”

“Before you say whatever you’re going to say,” said Astrid firmly, “you can either stand still and let me shave you, or you can leave here with bleach in your hair and no knowledge of how to safely get it out. Also, with one half of your body buzzed down, including ass hair but no pubes. If you’re going to try to escape, at the very least wait until those parts are done.”

Finn opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Now that Astrid had called attention to it again, the bleach was burning pretty badly, but he didn’t want to seem like a pussy and complain about something that most women wouldn’t blink an eye at, so he kept quiet about it.

Anyway. What Astrid was saying made a disappointing amount of sense. He didn’t want this to continue, but even if he was going to escape, it didn’t make any sense to make a run for it when there was a good chance he’d burn off all his hair if he did. He at least needed to wait until that part was done. Yeah. That was why he wasn’t resisting. No other reason.

“…Fine,” mumbled Finn, and shockingly one of the other patrons of the store let out a whoop. “Yeah! Attaboy!” He turned his head in alarm, but the neck restraint didn’t allow him enough movement to see who had said it. He couldn’t believe someone was actually following what was going on – that was infinitely worse than just having someone watch.

Astrid, on the other hand, seemed almost proud that her work was gaining attention, and with the little squint in her eyes, Finn realised that she was proud… of him. Of Finn, and presumably his response to this whole thing. He felt a little flutter in his heart, despite everything else that was going on.

Astrid put her hands on her hips, and said “Good boy,” with a little smirk on her face, and Finn wondered for a second if he was going to melt into his chair. Goddammit, when had things gone from fear to, well, whatever this was? Fine – it was fine, he could just ignore it. He could remember that this was all being done without his consent, and reality would start to set in again, and he’d stop feeling such unexpected feelings about all this.

“Let’s get you out of these restraints, then,” said Astrid. She stuck a key into some hole in the back of the chair, turned it, and all the cuffs popped open. “You’re going to be good and keep still for me while I shave you, aren’t you Finn?”

“…Yeah,” said Finn, and he hated the way his cock twitched a little at that simple admission. Thankfully, Astrid didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Alright,” she said. “Grab the back of the chair with both hands, and spread your legs. I want to get right up in all of the crevices – do this thoroughly.”

Finn stood from the chair, and instead of making a run for it, obediently stepped behind the chair and spread his legs.

“There we go,” said Astrid. “Now stay still. I don’t want to nick anything.” She started by running the clippers up his back, getting any stray hairs there, then moved down to the backs of his legs with relative ease. “Arms out in an A-pose, and hold it.” Finn put his arms out, and Astrid buzzed over those as well, and went right into each armpit, sending a flutter of dark hair down onto the floor. Her final stop was Finn’s ass hair. Without saying a word, she shoved his foot out until his legs were spread wide open, and then pushed her clippers right over his taint, finishing what she’d started earlier. Finn bit his lip, wondering if he’d ever be able to forget this. Did he want to, even? Part of him didn’t.

“That’s everything trimmed – now we just need to shave it clean, and we can rinse out that bleach after that.” Finn had expected Astrid to finish the job after buzzing over all his body hair, so he wasn’t particularly surprised by that. He watched as she mixed up some shaving cream with a brush, then touched the brush to the skin of his chest. Finn tensed – it was surprisingly cold – but Astrid, unperturbed, started spreading it over his torso, and down the rest of his body.

This part of it, he thought to himself, was much stranger than he thought it’d be. He could feel the cold air occasionally poking through the foam, touching his bare skin, reminding him that he was completely naked in a room full of mostly women. He couldn’t really do anything about it at the moment, but he fervently tried to avoid the gaze of any of them, feeling self-conscious about it anyway.

The odd sensation spread lower and lower, until Finn was completely covered in foam. Sighing slightly after a good job done, Astrid picked up a straight razor and ran it over Finn’s chest, pressing firmly enough that Finn wondered if she was taking a layer of dead skin off with the stubble. He didn’t want to ask, though, because that would entail talking, which would mean moving his chest more than he had to and possibly getting cut.

Stuck in that stiff A-pose, not daring to move, Finn waited helplessly as Astrid shaved his whole body from the neck down. His back and arms were of no real issue, given that his hair there was quite sparse anyway, but his legs were a little more of a challenge. When she moved back up and started pressing her razor to the skin of his asscrack, Finn took a deep breath in.

Astrid noticed. “What?” she chuckled. “Afraid I’ll ruin you for your future husband?”

“N-no!” grumbled Finn. “You– I mean, you have a knife next to my asshole…”

“Ye of little faith,” said Astrid, and continued shaving, coming all the way through Finn’s taint to finally shave his pubes clean as well. Finn was stock still through the whole process – that was a knife, scraping away at the skin right next to his dick and balls. It was harrowing.

Finally, Astrid was done. “Would you look at that,” she mused. “Even without hair, it’s still pocket-sized. Do you have to pee sitting down or something?”

She giggled, and Finn flushed. “Of course not,” he said, trying to keep the embarrassment out of his voice. “You’re just saying that to get some kind of rise out of me, I bet.”

“You really think I’d do that?” Astrid smirked. “I have plenty of other things I could mock you about. This is just… blindingly obvious.” She looked around the salon, and to Finn’s alarm, caught the eye of another patron who was watching, a few chairs away. “Excuse me, ma’am.” Finn balked, but didn’t resist as Astrid grabbed his hips and moved him so that his cock was facing the woman. “Do you agree with me?”

The woman, maybe in her thirties, giggled. “I mean,” she said, “it’s the smallest one I’ve ever seen, at least. I wouldn’t know for sure.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Astrid, then turned around and raised her eyebrows at Finn. “I think that’s good enough evidence. Anyway,” she said, “if you’re going to be reasonable and agree with me on that, come over to the hair-washing section. I’ll get all this stuff off of you.”

Finn opened his mouth, but realised he didn’t have any way to contest the claim without making himself just look petty, so he just ducked his head.

Astrid grabbed his hand, and he followed her over to the hair-washing section, where there were several shower-heads and sinks attached to leather beds. Astrid led Finn over to the far end, then pulled a showerhead out from the sink there and turned it on, drenching him in warm water. It was somewhat of a relief for Finn to get all that shaving cream off him, but it was bizarre to look down at his body and see it completely bare of hair. “Whoa.” He looked more… feminine, honestly, to a surprising degree.

He stood still as Astrid ran the water all over his body, then turned the shower off and let the water go down a drain in the floor. Next, she motioned for him to lie down on the nearest bed, and he did so, after which Astrid finally peeled the clingfilm off his hair. “Thank god,” he sighed, feeling the cold air on his burning scalp.

“Seriously? You’re such a wimp,” smirked Astrid, but still turned the shower back on and washed the bleach out of Finn’s hair. Finn sighed as he felt the coolness of the water. He got the sense that whatever was being done to him was going to be over soon, even though he had nothing concrete to base the feeling on.

After a few minutes, Astrid turned the shower off, then tapped Finn’s shoulder. “Alright, get up. I’m going to dry you off – I don’t want you dripping over the whole salon.”

Finn got up from the bed, which made some strange sounds because he’d been wet getting onto it, and stood as still as he could as Astrid dried him off with a small towel. It took a lot to keep his composure, especially since she was more or less rubbing him up and down, but he managed. She wrapped his hair in another towel, then led him back to his chair.

Now free from all the shaving foam, Finn was free to gawk at himself in the mirror – his skin looked so smooth, like a baby’s. Like a woman’s – it only confirmed his thoughts from earlier. That realisation led him into a bit of alarm. He didn’t want to look like a woman. He was a man – and he was pretty sure Astrid was straight. Not that that was his primary concern.

Astrid saw him staring, and grinned. “Glad you like it,” she said. “With your physique, I think it suits you better than leaving all that body hair on you. You look pretty.”

Finn blushed – he’d been completely caught off guard by the compliment. He’d been called handsome before, by his mother, and told “You look fine” a couple times – but he’d never been called pretty. He didn’t want to look like a woman or anything, but being called pretty felt… kind of good? “I mean– thanks,” he ended up saying, quietly, eyes averted from Astrid.

Astrid just smiled again, and nudged Finn into the chair. She removed the towel from Finn’s head, revealing a mess of blond hair. It fell about his shoulders like it had been doing the past few weeks, coming over his eyes, covering his ears and neck. The colour suited his complexion surprisingly well, he realised. Maybe Astrid had put some thought into this, rather than just doing it to humiliate him.

Astrid brought out a wide-toothed comb, and brought the hair into rough order. “This is overgrown, isn’t it?” she said. There was the undercut, of course, but Finn couldn’t see it himself. “Well,” said Astrid, “let’s get most of this off you. Your head will be a bit lighter by the time we’re done here,” she smirked.

Part of Finn balked at the idea of getting his hair cut a lot in one go, but part of him was relieved. He didn’t want to look like a girl after this, and there was no way Astrid could somehow simultaneously cut a lot of his hair off and give him a feminine haircut. Good.

Astrid clipped the very top section of Finn’s hair on top of his head, then brought a pair of haircutting scissors and snipped at what she’d left down. Finn realised she was cutting it straight across, presumably around the back as well, at mid-ear length – the section she’d buzzed earlier would be mostly visible like this. Good, he thought again. She must be getting the length off for a fade, or something. Little clumps of damp blond hair were dropping onto his back and shoulders with each cut, which he tried to ignore.

Once she was done cutting that part, she let down the rest of Finn’s hair, and cut it to the middle of his ears as well. It was starting to look like some kind of pilgrim cut, he thought unpleasantly, or some kind of long bowl cut. He reassured himself that there was no way she’d be keeping it like this – she’d be cutting the rest off soon.

Right on cue, Astrid came around the front, and combed it down again. “You’ve let your hair grow over your eyes,” she said. “I can’t believe you went this long without going to a salon. I’ll cut it so that you have plenty of time before it starts getting in your eyes again.”

“What?” said Finn, but Astrid had already brought the scissors at least an inch above his eyebrows, and as he watched, she closed them before he could react. That was shorter than his usual scissor cut, at least in front – she’d left him barely any bangs, which combined with what she’d already done looked pretty silly. He risked opening his mouth and asking “Do– do you have an end result in mind…?”

“From your perspective, this is it,” said Astrid with a little grin, and she gestured to his head.

Finn’s eyes widened, and he stared at himself. “Wait, are you serious?” With most of his hair at mid-ear length, and his bangs cut straight across in front, this looked like… “A bob? Like– one of those Communist era bobs?”

“A little shorter than that, actually,” Astrid said with an annoying lightness. “Those ones go all the way down to the bottom of your ear. Don’t you look cute, though?”

She came around behind him and fluffed the sides of his hair, snickering as she did so. “Tiny little blonde bob – you look adorable. You’ll look even better when we’re done, promise.”

Somehow, Finn had been proven wrong. He could be made to look more feminine with a shorter haircut – this was how. His eyebrows were gone, his body hair was gone – there was less and less in his appearance to show that he was a man, he thought with confusingly mixed emotions. He was actually starting to look like a girl, and at this stage there was no point denying that to himself.

“So,” he managed to say to Astrid, “this is how you want me to look? All… this?”

Astrid nodded, her expression confident. “Trust me. This’ll suit you better than anything you’ve tried before.” Finn looked her in the eye – he honestly couldn’t tell whether she was serious, or she was fucking with him. He was trapped in this situation anyway, he thought (even though the restraints had long since come off him) and he chose the former.

Astrid pinned the back of Finn’s hair up with a claw clip, and grabbed the clippers again. Finn was very much not against being made to look more masculine again, hopefully, so he stayed still as Astrid started them up, this time without a guard. Instead of buzzing him down evenly, though, Finn could feel her taking just the corner to his scalp. She traced a diagonal line down one way, then down the opposite way, and then some curves and more lines. Maybe she was writing her name into his head, Finn thought with some chagrin – although come to think of it, that idea captivated him somehow.

When Astrid popped a short guard onto the clippers, though, Finn started to doubt that theory. Especially when she took those clippers to Finn’s head. She pushed them up and up, concerningly high, ending up just as high as she had when she buzzed down Finn the first time. Judging by the amount of hair raining down onto Finn’s shoulders, though, this time she was going a good bit shorter. She grabbed Finn’s head with one hand, and buzzed with the other. For some reason, Finn felt like she’d left some parts out, but with everything happening on the back of his head he couldn’t tell why.

When she’d gone all the way from left to right, she nodded and flicked the clippers off. “Time for a little more dye, and then we’ll be done with your hair,” she said. Finn already disliked the fact that he was blond, and really didn’t want his hair to be dyed blue or anything, but he’d learned that there was no point in protesting, so he just nodded dumbly. Astrid left and came back with a pot of dye, this time a bright red. Before Finn could ask what Astrid was trying to do, she painted the dye onto the back of his head, seemingly in another specific pattern. To finish up, she put some cling film over it and just waited. Finn looked around, thought to speak to her, wanted to ask her why she was doing all this – but before he could work up the courage, he was being marched back to the hair wash section.

Astrid washed the dye out of his hair again, towel-dried it, dragged him back to his chair and gave his whole head a thorough blow-dry and style with a round brush. Finn wasn’t used to the heat of the dryer, but he sat still as Astrid worked, figuring it’d be over once this was done and he could leave. Astrid curled the ends of the bob in, laid the fringe nicely, and then turned off the blow-dryer and put her hands on her hips. “There,” she said smugly. Finn stared at himself in the mirror – there was no doubting it. This was a cute, little-girl bob. He moved his head, and the hair bounced.

He turned around to see the back, but Astrid grabbed a mirror, then held it up behind him and pinned up the back of his hair. The buzzed section had been taken down nearly to the skin, he realised with a jolt, with the exception of a fluffy red heart smack in the middle. “Oh, you have to be kidding me,” he groaned, his cheeks pinking in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“What?” Astrid said with a grin. “Like I said. I think this suits you better than anything you’ve looked like in the past. Except – that’s your hair done,” she said. “Now we need to move on to the rest of it.”

Astrid spun him around, then reached into her trolley and brought out – a tube of lipstick. “Oh, no,” said Finn, shaking his head, but Astrid grabbed his chin. “Oh, yes.” She put down the tube of lipstick, and nonchalantly grabbed the claw clip off Finn’s head, then brought it down, down – oh, no, Finn thought again, much more vehemently, but Astrid was already closing it around his balls. “Fuck!” His hips twisted – that really fucking stung, and it was only getting worse.

“Make sure you stay still, alright?” Astrid grinned – Finn realised she was just toying with him now, for her own fun. Seeing how far she could go without him making a run for it. But he couldn’t fight her on that without looking even more pathetic. So he just nodded, and tried his hardest not to react to the pain as Astrid brought the lipstick to his face.

He was facing away from the mirror now, but he kept track of what was being used on him. One by one, Astrid brought out some kind of skin cream, a skin-coloured stick, more skin-coloured liquid, white and black eyeliner, eyeshadow, a glittery thing that went on various spots over his face, an eyelash curler, mascara, fake eyelashes, and finally some blush. He felt as though his face was getting heavier with each stroke of the brush, or the pencil, or whatever implement Astrid was using now. He didn’t know how some people lived every day with so much painted onto their skin.

Astrid finished the whole thing off by holding Finn’s eyes open and placing coloured contacts onto him, making him blink and his eyes water. “There! Now your face matches your hair,” she said, and spinned him back around to the mirror.

Finn’s jaw dropped. He looked like a girl – nobody on the street would be able to tell he wasn’t a girl. His eyes looked huge with the contacts and the eyeliner, with long, fluffy eyelashes on top and bottom. His eyebrows had been drawn back on higher up than they would normally be, so that he looked innocent and naive, and his cheeks and nose were rosy with blush. His lips were pink and plump, and looked, for lack of a better word, kissable. “I… can’t believe that’s me,” he found himself saying, although part of him could believe it very well.

“Yeah? Just wait until I get you in some clothes.”

Astrid took Finn’s hands and pulled him out of the chair, and another patron gasped. “Oh, he looks so cute! You wouldn’t think he was a man at all.”

“Thanks! You’ll love the final result.”

Astrid pulled a dress, socks and shoes out of the trolley – seeing the end approach, Finn stepped into the dress willingly, letting Astrid fasten it behind him, then the socks and shoes. They were red Mary Janes, with frilly white bobby socks – and as Astrid stepped back, Finn saw he’d been put into a lacy pink dress. It was knee-length, with cap sleeves, a peter pan collar and translucent petticoats that bounced as he took a few steps.

“And now you’re done,” said Astrid. “I thought so – I knew you’d look great like this.”

Finn was speechless. He spun around, and the frilly pink reflection in the mirror spun with him. Something in him… clicked. Astrid was right, he realised. Something about this suited him, in a way that nothing really had before – something just felt right about it. That didn’t mean it wasn’t still absolutely mortifying. Either way – he needed to figure out how he was going to get home in this state.

While he was preoccupied, Astrid came up behind him, ogling him. She put her lips next to his ear. “Make sure you’re back in a month for your touch-up,” she whispered. “Now that I’ve got you, I’m not letting you get away.”

Finn felt a shiver go down his spine. Astrid had changed, definitely – now it felt like she was trying to change him, too. And maybe he didn’t mind that too much.