This is a second person FtM story, I've been kinda intrigued with the idea of writing something in second person for a while. This is a heads up that this story is basically about the reader being turned into a boy and I figure that could be triggering to some people, especially trans women. There's no abuse, but just be careful and maybe give this one a miss if you think that might upset you. Otherwise, enjoy!
It's early September, the tail end of summer is turning into autumn, and you decide it's time to update your wardrobe. You head into town and spend the morning browsing the shops. After a few hours, you've filled a couple of bags with new clothes, new underwear, a new pair of flats, and a cute jacket that was on sale. You're satisfied with the day's shopping and decide to head home. As you walk down the high street you pass a barber shop that you've never seen before. You've been walking down this street for months and don't remember any shops closing, let alone this one opening. You stop, and stand transfixed, subconsciously reaching up and touching your long hair. The shop is empty, no customers waiting, and no barbers inside, but the lights are on, and a small TV in the corner of the shop is showing a football match. Your eyes are drawn to a sign in the window: "Back to school haircuts: £7.50". Why are you so intruiged? You finished school years ago, and besides, barbershops are for men. You try to keep walking home, but your legs only carry you closer to the shop, and before you know it, your hand is on the door.
A bell rings as you open the door, but there's no response from the back room. What's the harm in looking around? You've never been in a barbershop before, and the chairs look very comfortable, so you walk towards one and sit down. You were right, it is comfortable, and as you are settling in, a man comes in from the back room and approaches you in the chair. You try to apologise and leave, but you can't form the words, so all you do is smile as he covers you in a big black nylon cape. He doesn't say anything as he starts to comb your hair with long strokes. He gathers up your hair, holding it in a ponytail with one hand, and cutting it off with the other. The barber drops the foot or so of hair he just cut off into your lap. You should be concerned, but instead you feel content, this is how it should be.
He works quickly, using a spray bottle to wet your hair, then roughly cuts it to about three inches all over, as your skirt meets in the middle, becoming a pair of shorts. You hear a click then a hum, and feel a soothing vibration on the back of your neck as the barber runs clippers up your head, buzzing the hair there down to fuzz. As he makes the first pass you feel cool air on your legs as your tights recede into simple black socks. The clippers make a second run up the back of your head, at the same time you feel dark hairs spreading up your legs. The back of your head is done, and the barber folds down your ear to clip around it. Something other than hair hits the cape, and you look down to see one of your earrings has been pushed out by your body, the hole completely sealed up. The same happens on your other ear. He starts on the top, using his fingers as a guide, he snips off another inch or so. Thr first chunk of hair lands on your chest, ripples passing through your body, and you feel your breasts shrink a little. The next cut does the same, and by the time the top of your hair is finished, your chest is flat and your bra is gone. The barber adds the finishing touches, blending and sharpening up the edges. With each adjustment you feel your vision getting blurrier until he stops and puts down his tools. He squirts a little gel into his hands and rubs it into the top of your hair, achieving the perfect deliberate messy look.
The barber hands you a pair of glasses and you reflexively put them on and look in the mirror for the first time. You see yourself: a teenage boy with short dark hair. You smile and nod, and the barber removes the cape, allowing all the cut off hair to drop to the floor, as the last wave of changes rush through your body, there is a shifting in your underwear as it changes to a pair of boxer shorts, then fills out. You stand up and pay the barber; he disappears into the back room, and you stay there for a while, gently rubbing the fuzz on the back of your head.
You leave the barbershop and head home, appreciating the cool breeze on your neck as you walk. When you arrive, you show your parents the clothes you bought: new trainers, a cool hoodie, but you're too embarrassed to show them the underwear. They approve, and you head upstairs to your room to play video games with your friends, then have an early night ready for school tomorrow.
"Dear Amy McKinley, congratulations, we are happy to inform you that we have accepted your application to work with us. You will serve as part of the engineering department. Please report to the following address at 2pm on Thursday 06/04/52."
I re-read the letter for the hundredth time. Surely there had to be some sort of mistake. I thought I had applied for a job in the PR department of the European Cosmic Alliance, I was just a history student, certainly not cut out for engineering, knowing nothing about it and not really being in any shape for the manual labour required.
I found a phone number and tried to sort things out, I figured if they had employed me, they probably decided to put me somewhere other than PR, like analysing artifacts, and just hit the wrong button when they put it through their system. I explained all of this patiently to the agent, who seemed to think I was trying to back out of the job. "No, no," I explained, "I really want to join, I just don't think I'm qualified for the engineering department." And I did want to join, the opportunity to work in space was great, and the pay wasn't bad either. This seemed to get through to them. "I assure you, Miss McKinley, that we will do everything we can to make sure you thrive at your new job. We look forward to seeing you on the 6th." And then they hung up. I wasn't sure what to think, but they seemed to know what they were doing, so I thought I might as well make the best of it.
Over the next few days I made a few attempts to read up on mechanics and electronics to prepare myself, but I would get stuck on the difference between ceramic and electrolytic capacitors and my mind would wander until I found myself zoning out and idly playing with my long blonde hair while staring at the text and not reading it. Two days before I was due to join I gave up trying entirely and just focused on relaxing, mixed with sporadic packing, trying to decide what to take with the very limited weight allowance I had.
The 6th arrived and I caught a cab over to the address I was provided, which turned out to be the training compound for new hires. I was greeted by two staff members, one man and one woman, both wearing very simple ECA uniforms just a plain t shirt and dark trousers. I felt overdressed in my blouse and skirt, but I had wanted to make a good impression. They introduced themselves as Ivan and Eva and showed me to the dorms where I would be staying during training beforw I would get to ride the shuttle up to the space station. As we walked, Eva talked. "I understand you were nervous about fitting in here, and worried you wouldn't be able to keep up. Please don't be, after training you'll feel like you've been in engineering for years. Ah, here we are." She stood outside the double room as Ivan showed me in and directed me where to put my bag. The other side of the room looked like it was occupied but there was no sign of my new roommate. I hoped she was nice. "You'll have time to settle in later, but first you need to go to your induction." Said Eva, and the two began to lead me away. As I walked, I brushed past a boy in uniform, presumably walking back to the dorms. I wondered which room he was in.
After several identical corridors, we finally arrived at induction. It seemed like a quite secluded part of the compound, I thought it would have been in a more central location. "We're here," said Eva, "just this and then you can begin training. Head through when you're ready." She gestured to the door behind her. I took a deep breath since it felt like the right thing to do, and stepped through the door.
I entered an empty room, much smaller than I imagined. There was a large mirror on the far wall, and I could see myself standing, confused. Was this some sort of test? As I began to turn around to see if Eva would give me any sort of guidance, my mind began to feel foggy. I started to hear a hissing sound like running water, and I felt something shift on my body. I turned back to the mirror to see I was now naked, but the feeling of motion only got more intense. My stomach seemed to slowly lose a layer of fat as it flattened out, followed by my chest, as my breasts receded. The hissing got louder now, drowning out most of my thoughts. I could only hold onto fleeting memories: my parents' faces; my first day at school; Avery, my first boyf- girlfriend. My hair darkened, on my head, on my legs, on my arms. I felt my body rearranging around my crotch as the hissing sound grew so loud it was impossible to concentrate or think at all.
I must have blacked out for a second in the shower. Hot water hissed from the showerhead and ran down my body. I turned off the tap and stepped out. I grabbed a towel and rubbed it over my short buzzed hair. I thought about when I had long hair, that year I grew it out, and I remembered how much of a dork I looked and how glad I was to be rid of it, especially since it got in the way in the workshop. I dried the rest of my body off and grabbed the fresh uniform I had left outside the shower. I quickly dressed, then proudly clipped my namebadge to my shirt: Zach McKinley, Engineering. I ran a hand over my hair and checked my appearance in the mirror. I couldn't wait to meet some of the other newbies, especially my roommate. I hoped he was nice.
---
One month later, and training was over. I had breezed through it, being way more experienced than most of the others, and I was going to be the first of my group to get on the shuttle to the station. Eva and Ivan walked me to the launch pad. On the way I passed a slightly chubby girl about my height, with blonde hair just past her shoulders. She was clearly new, but she seemed oddly familiar. I caught a glimpse of her namebadge: Amy Roberts, Public Relations.
Just a really short ftm story to get it out of my head. Could probably be a lot better with some editing but I have other projects at the moment.
Sam arrived dejected, back at the flat she shared with her roommate Savannah. She immediately entered the kitchen where Savannah was cooking. "It's not fair," she said.
"It's good to see you too." Her roommate responded. Sam went to dump her backpack on the table but there was no room. She made to move some crystals decorating the table to clear a space, but an angry glance from Savannah stopped her. "You'll ruin the energy flow, Sam, you know this. Put your bag on the floor and then tell me why you're upset." Savannah was really into magic and claimed to be a witch - Sam didn't really buy into it but humoured her because other than the gems and weird plants everywhere, Savannah was by far the best roommate she'd ever had. So Sam shrugged off her bag, dropped it on the floor and took a seat, careful not to disrupt the energy flow.
"So you know I was hanging out with Nathan today, for our group project?" Said Sam.
"Ahh, Prince Charming, did he not like your ideas?"
"No no, he loved them, we're actually making great progress." Sam and Nathan were classmates at university, studying English. They had never really spoken before being paired up for an assignment, but Sam had always admired him from afar, his messy hair and lopsided grin were too cute, and she found herself fantasising about him, even if he did turn out to be a bit of a nerd. "It's just I've been trying to make it a bit more, y'know, obvious, and he just doesn't get it. I was flirting like mad and he just asked if I wanted to stick around and play videogames."
"I was never well versed in affairs of the heart," said Savannah, "but it sounds like he might just not be into you." Sam looked incredulous.
"Not into me? Any boy would be lucky to have me!" She wasn't wrong, other than the slightly overblown ego, Sam was by all means a great partner, and she was pretty good looking too, currently dressed very casually in a simple t shirt and skirt that combined with her dark hair in a fashionable bob to look both laid back and elegant at the same time.
"Some people just have different tastes." Said Savannah.
"Well they shouldn't," Sam said, flippantly, "I just wish he was as into me as I'm into him."
"Be careful with wishes, Sam." Savannah warned.
That night, Sam had a very vivid dream. It started as a fantasy involving Nathan, and again Sam wished that he was into her in reality. Then everything dissolved into a deep blue colour, anf Sam heard a low rumbling voice. "I can make it so, but I cannot change those who do not consent. Do you still wish for change?" Sam wasn't sure what the voice meant, so she just agreed, and everything was silent. She didn't dream again until she woke up.
Sam rolled over in bed, feeling groggy. 'I shouldn't have stayed up raiding so late' she thought. 'Wait - huh?' She grabbed her phone off the side table and checked the time. It was almost 1pm, she had way overslept and didn't have much time to get ready to meet Nathan again to work more on their project. There was one of Savannah's crystals sitting by her phone - she would need to have a very stern conversation about boundaries later, but first she needed to get ready. She carefully laid out a nice outfit and hopped in the shower. Sam enjoyed the warm water running over her body. She grabbed a can of shaving foam and began to lather up her leg. She squirted another dollop of shaving foam into her hand and just stared at it - why was she trying to shave in the shower? She might cut her face without a mirror. She rinsed the foam away and hopped out. Sam quickly dried herself off and went to get dressed. She picked out a clean pair of boxer shorts, and grabbed yesterday's jeans from a crumpled pile on the floor. She completed her outfit with a plain black t shirt, pulled straight over her bare chest.
Sam turned to the floor length mirror and began to brush her hair. As she brushed, she heard a low humming sound, and felt a vibration on her scalp. A chunk of her dark hair fell to the floor, leaving short fuzz behind. She continued to brush and watch her bob turn into a short buzzcut. Sam laid the brush down and rubbed her fuzzy head - she was glad to have such a low maintenance hairstyle. As she looked into the mirror, Sam found it harder and harder to focus, her vision was blurring so she reached for her glasses. Glasses? Since when did she wear glasses? Since she was eight, and all the other boys made fun of Sam. The other boys. No, the boys. Sam wasn't a boy... Was he?
Sam put a hoodie on over his World of Warcraft shirt, grabbed his backpack and headed out to meet Nathan to get to work on their project, and then play videogames and make out. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to get paired up with his boyfriend. Savannah watched as he left, and smiled.