A strong hand by short_shorter_shaved

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Wowee my first story on here O~O Special thanks to snifffff filtycyborg and jamiesstories, y'all are some of my favourite authors on here and big inspo for me, hope y'all like it!


At first, Milo had thought a summer job seemed like a smart move. Make some money to stop his student loans from getting too daunting, get some work experience for the ol' résumé. Sure,it was going to be a bit of a bummer working while all his friends partied there summers away, but he had known it was going to be worth it in the long run.

That was until he found out that he had only landed one successful job application, and that he was going to be spending his last summer before college graduation doing hard labor on a farm out in the Midwest.

To say lifelong indoor kid Milo wasn't exactly thrilled would be an understatement. With a chubby build and short stature, thick black hoodie and thicker black hair almost down to his shoulders, pale complexion that spoke to years of not going outside much, and glasses that spoke to years of spending too much time staring at screens, and patchy stubble that just never seemed to fill all the way in, Milo was Not the kind of person who looked like he belonged on a farm, and he felt just as out of place as he looked. But he'd heard horror stories about college kids who didn't take paying off their student loans seriously and ended up buried in debt by age thirty. He was determined that that wouldn't be him, no matter how many crappy jobs he had to take to make sure of it.

That didn't make the job any easier though. The work was grueling, and Milo didn't fit in at all with the other farmhands. They were all big, strong brutes, hair shaved brutally short, all either half-naked or clad in a tank top that hid so little it might as well not have been there at all. They gave him. The vibe of a bunch of big, strong meatheads, dumb muscle with no thoughts beyond eagerly doing whatever they were told.They had all been working here a lot longer than Milo had, and they'd already formed their own little friend groups.

Milo and a couple of other farmhands were out in the fields harvesting crops, and for the fifth time today, his tied up hair had come loose, tangled, jet black strands fell into the young mans face. He grumbled something under his breath as he tied it back into a messy bun, body threatening to give out from under him as the scorching summer heat beat down hard. Milo had picked the worst possible time to be wearing a black hoodie. But being surrounded by giant, musclebound farmhands all day had made him feel particularly self-conscious about his weight, which the hoodie did a good job of hiding.

Still, the hoodie was doing absolutely nothing for keeping him cool in this heat. He was visibly lagging behind all the other farm hands as he tried to force his aching body to keep moving. The work was absolutely grueling, and to make matters worse, he was standing there watching.

Rick was the owner of the farm as well as Milo's boss. He was an older man, somewhere in his early 50s, tall and broad-shouldered, he had a bit of a dad-bod but it was clear he had some serious muscle underneath. He had spotted a dark gray buzzcut, a stern face, and a thick push broom of a mustache adorning his upper lip. The man practically radiated authority, and had both infatuated and frightened the young farmhand in equal measure.

Rick would always watch the farm hands work when he had time, his perpetual glare following them closely like he was about to scold them for one mistake or another, and today, the older mans gaze rested squarely on Milo, who was currently praying that Rick hadn't noticed how badly he was lagging behind.

His stomach dropped, and his heart started beating out of his chest when he heard the older man's voice ring out from across the field.

"Ey, Milo! C'mere!"

Welp. This was how he died. Torn limb from limb by an angry, sexy farmer for his mediocrity at harvesting carrots.

There were worse ways to go he supposed.

And he knew trying to delay things would only make Rick angrier. So, like a prisoner walking to his execution, Milo slowly made his way to the farmhouse, the pit in his stomach growing as he mentally prepared himself for whatever punishment Rick potentially had in store. The older man waved him in as Milo made his way toward him.

"Come inside, kid" Rick said, gesturing for him to come follow him into the barn "We need to talk."

Yep. Dead. He was dead dead dead dead dead. And stupid, sexy Rick was going to be the one to kill him, Milo reluctantly followed him inside, feeling every bit like a dumbass horror movie character walking headfirst into doom.

"So" Rick said, making Milo's blood run cold, "I've been keepin' an eye on y'all workin in the field out there. Gotta make sure the new blood is keeping up and all."

Milo could've sworn Rick was looking right at him when he said that last part.

"That's kind of my problem, actually. Yer not keepin up. Yer laggin behind all the other farmhands, 'n it's only been gettin worse."

Milo tried to stop himself from panicking. And stop himself from looking like he was panicking. Which, of course, only made him panic harder.

Rick rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax junior, I ain't mad atcha, not even disappointed really. If I was fightin' through a heatwave in a thick-ass hoodie and an even thicker mop I can't say I'd be doing much better. We are gonna do something about it, though." The man said

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me kid. Take off the damn jacket."

"B-but sir, I don't have anything under thi-"

"You really think yer gonna be the only farmhand runnin around without a shirt? Take it off kid, I ain't payin ya to pass out."

Milo reluctantly took off his hoodie, blushing profusely as his tummy flipped out from beneath the thick layer of fabric. He glanced at Rick's sturdy, powerful frame...and then down at himself, feeling more than a little inadequate.

"I know I'm not as big or strong as the other workers..." The young man muttered. "I'm just scared the other farmhands are gonna make fun of me for being...y'know

"Fat?" Rick said bluntly.

Milo nodded sheepishly.

"Nothin' wrong with havin' a bit of meat on yer bones junior, Just means you've been eatin' well" Rick gestured toward his own stomach, and began tracing a finger over Milos. The look on the older face was almost...hungry.

"Sides, I actually think ya look pretty good if I do say so myself."

Milo felt his face flush, the older man's broad, powerful frame loomed over him like a giant, his expression shifting to something that almost looked like...pity?

Well. That was certainly unexpected.

The older man finally spoke, his powerful chest just inches away from Milo's face.

"Lord, you must be burning up under all this hair junior...lemme go get my clippers 'n I'll have ya fixed up in a jiff."

Rick got up and started digging around like he was searching for something. Milo felt his blood run cold.

"C-clippers?" Milo sputtered, looking every bit like he'd just seen a ghost.

Rick let out a triumphant "uh-hah!" And returned to Milo, electric razor held firmly in hand, dragging a small metal folding chair into the center of the barn.

"W-wait, can't we talk about this? My hair's not evennthaynlong y'know. And I really do feel a lot cooler now without my hoodie. How about you just let me get back to work and-"

"Kid my eyesight's gone to s**t 'n even I can see you sweatin' buckets under that scruffy rats nest" The farmer said. "I wantcha to be able to do the work I'm payin ya for. But more than that..."

He brushed Milo's hair out of his eyes and looked right at him. Milo felt like he was gonna faint.

"...I don't wantcha burnin' up like an unshorn sheep under all this hair kiddo. It just can't be comfortable for ya."

The worst part was, Rick was right, he ran his fingers through Milos hair, placing a firm hand on the young man's shoulder.

"I know yer scared kid. I get it. But I know what's best, and I won't have ya meltin' down like an ice cube in this damn heat wave. So like it or not, it's gonna get shaved by day's end. What's up to you is whether or not you make yerself miserable fightin me every step of the way."

As scared as he was there was something about the genuine, almost paternal edge in the man's voice that put him strangely at ease.

"Sides, think about how much cooler it'll feel when it's all shaved down junior, won't it feel so much better not to have to deal with all this?"

He ran his hands through the young man's long, dark hair as he spoke. Milo wanted to object, wanted to run like hell in the other direction, but Rick was right, and not just about the haircut. Even without the heavy hoodie weighing him down, Rick was still stronger and faster than Milo. If he wanted this done, there really was no getting out of it.

That and...well...honestly? As crazy as it sounded, there was a part of him that didn't really want to run; he was nervous as hell, sure. But the way Rick talked to him, dominant yes, but caring in equal measure, made him eager to impress the man. He wanted to be good for him.

And hey...hair grows back, right?

Milo steeled himself and took a seat, giving Rick a small nod as he tried his best not to show either of the emotions rapidly threatening to swallow him whole. Rick just gave him a smirk and fired up the clippers. Starting by running them up the young mans sideburn.

Milo cringed a bit as he saw clumps of long, dark hair tumble to the farmhouse floor, and Rick seemed to have taken notice, slipping his voice into a deep,soothing tone and running his fingers over the newly shorn hair.

"Shhhhhhhhh shhhhh, it's okay boy. I know yer feelin' nervous. Just try 'n relax and enjoy it fer me 'kay? Even you gotta admit it feels kinda nice, don'tcha?"

He did. The feel of Rick's warm hands gracing his shorn stubble really did feel out of this world. The young man tried to surrender himself to the sensation and not think too hard about what was actually happening to him. He saw more and more of his thick black hair fall onto the farmhouse floor as the patch of ultra-short, shaved-down stubble grew ever larger. The feel of Rick's hand rubbing his newly short hair, almost teasingly, caused something to stir down below.

Milo gulped, hoping beyond hope the man wouldn't notice. If he did, Rick didn't say anything. Continuing to cut through years of growth like a knife through butter. From sideburn to temple to practically the entire left side of the young man's head, Milo looked at the thick pelt of gray stubble covering his barber's head, at how much it seemed to suit him, and wondered if he'd look even half as decent.

The clippers were mowing through the back now. The hair here was the longest by far and Milo felt lightheaded in more ways then one as they made their way across, his head feeling cooler too. Milo didn't want to admit Rick had been right about the shaved head, but it really did feel a lot better already.

A soft smile crept up Milo's lips as he felt genuine relief from the blistering heat for the first time since he'd come here. Rick just smiled, a smug, cocky thing, like he could tell exactly what Milo was thinking. Yep, definitely something stirring down below there.

The young man couldn't hide his blush as the clippers crept up his other sideburn now, the long black locks piling up on the floor around him like a shorn sheep. Milo couldn't believe how fast the clippers were working, years of growth gone in less than ten minutes. He felt a bit sick to his stomach looking down at the pile of shorn hair around him,but looking up meant looking at that damn cocky smirk again...and that made Milo feel a whole different kind of sick,like a fluttering in his stomach he couldn't explain.

Rick grasped Milo's almost completely shorn head with a thick, calloused hand like it it belonged to him, shearing the right side down to bare stubble like he held malice for the hair itself, like he was personally mad at it for giving one of his farmhands, his boys, as much trouble as it had. Milo found himself feeling oddly touched by the thought of that.

Yet still, as the farmer finished up the last of the hair on the sides and back, holding the clippers up almost threateningly to the top of his head, Milo couldn't help the next words that scaped his lips:

"C-cant we leave the top long sir? Please?"

He looked up at the man, eyes almost pleading, and to his credit, Rick looked genuinely sympathetic.

"Aww..., junior... I think you know as well as I do yer still burning up under all that hair, 'n we can't exactly leave the job half done now can we?"

Milo gave a small nod.

"'n for the record..." Rick said, slipping into that deep soothing voice once again, tilting Milo's head up to meet eyes with him, "I think yer gonna look damn fine with a shaved head kiddo."

God, he was blushing. This man had sat him in an uncomfortable metal chair, made him strip half-naked, and was currently in the process of forcefully shaving his head, why the hell was he blushing?!

Milo looked down, desperate to hide his beet-red face, muttering to Rick to "just get it over with already" as the farmer once again fired up the clippers, driving them straight down the middle of Milo's head. The mans soft yet bulky frame was sitting mere inches from Milo's face. And the steadily growing hard-on in the young man's crotch made itself increasingly known, pressing up against both his thigh and the tight fabric of his jeans in a way that was only making things worse.

Rick gave Milo a smirk as the young farmhand tried desperately not to think about why he was so damn hard right now,the farmer plowed the clippers through swaths of the young mans thick, fluffy hair as Milo's thoughts drifted to a whole different kind of plowing. Rick had been nothing but rude and condescending to him all day, acting like he knew best and not taking no for an answer, so why the hell was Milo so turned on? Why did he care so much if rick thought he was a "good boy" or not? And why did he feel like he'd be coming back to this farm the first chance he got just to have Rick cut his hair again?

"Gooooooooood boy~" the man whispered running his fingers through some of Milo's last remaining fluff, only to shear them away just a few seconds later. "I know yer spooked like a baby deer right now, but yer bein' so good, sittin' nice 'n pretty fer me junior, bet it already feels heaps better don't it?"

Milo let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to nod. "Y-yeah. It's... Cooler, at least."

Rick chuckled, low and deep, brushing the loose hair from Milo's forehead before lifting the clippers for the next pass.

"Course it is. Toldja I knew what's best didn't I?"

Rick shot him a wink, Milo felt butterflies.

"'n don't think I don't see how much yer enjoyin' this either junior."

They both knew what Rick was talking about, and Milo felt more than a little embarrassed that Rick had finally noticed.

"Y-yeah, sorry...I didn't mean to-"

"Relaaaaaaax" Rick said, finishing up the last few scraps of fluff on Milo's now much rounder head. "Just unzip 'n let 'er breathe. The other farm hands are workin' too hard to notice anyhow."

Milo looked down. He'd been so focused on everything else, he hadn't even realized how uncomfortable that tightness had gotten. He reluctantly obliged, unzipping his fly and surrending himself to... whatever the hell kind of weird-ass situation he had gotten himself into.

And Christ for as awkward as it was, that really did feel like a relief.

Rick looked down at it almost..hungry as he held up the last remaining lock of Milo's hair long, putting a teasing edge into his voice, "this is the last of it kid... You gonna beg on yer knees askin' me to keep it?" F***. That word choice had to be intentional. It had to be, Was Rick...flirting? Did Rick like him? Did he like Rick back?

Milo tried to calm himself down, focusing all his energy on answering Rick's question, muttering out a quiet, "...N-no so. Just shave it off sir." Rick happily obliged, deliberately slowing himself down as he dragged out the process, making sure Milo felt every tiny sensation as the last of his once, long, fluffy hair was shaved away. Rick took one last pass around Milo's head to make sure it was all even, it actually felt kinda nice.

"Theeeeeeeeere we go..." Rick said, affectionately rubbing his head like a freshly shorn farm sheep. "Lookin' real sharp there junior." Milo flushed "bet that feels a hell of a lot cooler too don't it?"

Milo didn't wanna admit how nice it felt. Admit that Rick was right. But stripped down, both of his thick hoodie and thicker hair, the sun didn't beat down quite as hard now, it really did feel like a major relief.

But Milo only had a few seconds to appreciate that sense of relief before Rick, without warning, started moving the razor lower, shaving Milo's patchy attempt at a beard. "Just cleanin'this scruffy crap off ya. You'll thank me later." Rick said, letting out a small chuckle as he-

F***.
Oh f***.
Fuuuuuuuuuck that felt good.

Rick had lowered himself down now, sitting right on Milos lap. He let out another low chuckle as he continued, petting and grabbing at Milo's freshly shorn scalp. His large, rough hand took up almost the entire surface of Milo's head, and Lord, for as alien as the sensation was, it really did feel nice.

All the while, he made short work of Milo's...well, "beard" felt like a generous term if Milo was being honest. The sensation of his bulge being pressed firmly into Rick's ass was definitely not lost on him either, he tried, and nearly failed, to suppress a moan. The impromptu face-shaving concluded, but Milo didn't move. He surrendered himself to the sensations:the calloused hands on his bare scalp, his chubby frame pressed up against Rick's broad, muscular one, the steady pressure of his bulge grinding against Rick's backside as he...

He-

Rick was getting up now.

Leaving Milo so nearly close to finishing. The man's broad, bulky frame demanded Milo's attention as he rose and stretched, letting out a deep, bassy yawn, rubbing the young mans head one last time.

"Alright junior" He said, that, letting that teasing growl slip back into his voice. "Yer all cooled off. Now get back to work."

"Wh-what? Now?! After all that?! Can't I atleast have a mirror?"

Rick looked down at him with a stern expression, one that couldn't quite hide the hint of playfulness underneath.

"Work comes before play kiddo. 'n I already gave ya plenny'a time off work. You wanna oggle yer own reflection, you can do it after you,ve moved those damn hay bales" Rick said, struggling to hide the edge of humor in his voice.

"Sides don'tcha wanna show me how much harder you can work now that you got all that weight off ya? I bet you could be a reaaaaal good farmhand for me~"

Milo felt a flicker of determination spark to life in his chest. He didn't even stop to think about it, he just moved. Lifted. Carried. Sweated. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was trying to impress Rick, knew he wanted to be seen as strong,dependable, useful. A good boy. A real farmhand. But beyond all that, there was something deeper driving him now, something warm and heavy in his chest, and a bit lower too, something that sent a flicker of heat through him every time he remembered Rick's weight on his lap, the rough calloused hand on his bare scalp, and the low teasing rumble of his voice.

And although Milo had been reluctant to admit it at first, he really did feel better. His scalp felt cooler, so much cooler, even with the blistering heatwave. And without the hoodie weighing him down, he found it a lot easier to keep up with the other farmhands. Granted, they were still way more muscular than he was, but the gap didn't feel quite so massive anymore.

And when he actually tried talking to them? They were way nicer than he'd expected. No teasing like he'd feared, just encouragement. They told him he was doing great. Told him to keep up the
Hard work, told him that he could be just like them one day.

He spent the whole Day like that. Sweating, hauling, lifting, working hard. Trying his best to prove to Rick that he could be a good farmhand. A hard worker. Someone who was all too eager to do exactly what he was told.

But through it all, it still didn't feel entirely real. His hands kept reaching up to brush hair out of his face, only to be met with a feeling like rough sandpaper. It was both alien and...strangely enjoyable.

He'd look down at himself and be momentarily shocked by the sight of his own body, shirtless, utterly exposed, his round body glistening with sweat, he felt something twinge in his stomach. Not quite shame. Not quite pride. Something more complex. A heady mix of exposure and eagerness, submission and satisfaction. But that sharp sting of insecurity faded a little more each time.

It wasn't until the end of the day, after hours after hours of hauling and sweating and doing exactly what he was told, that Milo finally collapsed into the mattress in the bunkhouse, limbs aching in a way that felt strangely satisfying. He grabbed for his phone, fingers fumbling from exhaustion, and caught his reflection in the dark screen.

He froze.

There on the black screen of his phone, was a complete stranger.


The boy staring back at him wasn't the same kid who'd shown up at the farm a week. That Milo was gone, buried somewhere under the sweat and sunburn and stubble. This new version was almost imposing, his shirtless body flushed and gleaming from the day's labor, his scalp almost completely bare aside from the faint shadow of buzzed hair. He looked just like all the other farmhands now, The kind of strong, obedient muscle who did as he was told, always worked hard, and knew exactly who he belonged to.

It felt...wrong, to be enjoying this as much as he was, but he couldn't deny the way his heart beat just a little bit faster when he saw the person he'd been turned into, and when his mind drifted to the man who'd done it. He reached up to run his bare scalp half expecting to still feel his old curls up there. This wasn't just a change in look, it was a change in identity, and not one Milo had chosen for himself. A bigger man's hands had held his head steady, told him how he was gonna look, how he was gonna be, and Milo had let it happen. Had actually enjoyed it. He couldn't stop thinking about the weight of Rick's body on his lap, the smell of sweat and hay, the way that deep bassy voice had rumbled against his ear "yer all cooled off now junior"

God, it was a little messed up how much that had done to him, how much he still wanted more.

Milo bit his lip.

Summer wouldn't last forever. He'd have to go back to college eventually,go back home to see his folks too, and he'd have to explain his appearance when he did. But Milo didn't care. He looked like Rick's kind of man now, and he liked that, liked that enough that he'd be coming right back here the next chance he got, hell he might even stay if Rick would allow him. Because now? Milo knew exactly who he was, and knew exactly who he belonged to.

The end.

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