CW: transphobia
Content: piss, humiliation, transphobia
Context: This story features Finn and Mira but is set quite a while before "Something in the oven"
Finn slurped up the last of his thick shake and squeezed Mira's hand.
"We ready to head out?" he asked.
"I just wanted to check out the record store before we leave," she replied.
"Sounds good, I'll meet you at the exit? I just need a piss first."
"Sure thing," replied Mira, giving Finn a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and heading across the mall to the dimly lit store that was radiating grunge music. Finn binned the empty shake cup and headed to the toilets.
Upon approaching the big M sign he noticed the burly security guard standing by the door looking the patrons up and down as they entered. Fuck. Evidently this mall, like several others, had given in to the transphobic pressure groups and taken advantage of the new government guidelines that allowed private businesses to vet anyone that wanted to use their facilities. Finn tried to keep his expression neutral and his stride confident as he reminded himself that 4 years of testosterone meant he passed pretty much all the time. He was wearing his binder, he had his packer, he was safe. Several guys had already walked in and out of the toilets without issue by the time Finn had crossed the walkway to get to them.
"Alright mate," he greeted the guard.
"Alright," the guard replied, then looked at a clicking device in his hand. "Ah sorry mate," he said, motioning for Finn to step to the side, "would you mind following me?"
Finn felt his chest seize up but forced a friendly smile.
"For what?"
"Just to make sure you're using the right toilet, no offense to you at all mate, I can tell you're a bloke. The company insists we check every tenth person going in regardless," the guard rolled his eyes. "Waste of time if you ask me, you can /always/ tell, but it's my neck on the line if I don't."
Finn's heart felt like it was trapped in a vice as he tried to assess his options. If the check was just to see whether he had a flat chest and a crotch bulge there would be no issue. Even if he had to give a quick flash, his vaguely realistic packer could probably convince the guard. If he had to fully undress though, that was an issue. Finn could feel the weight of his bladder pressing on his insides and silently cursed himself for drinking all of that shake. He had no idea where the next nearest toilets were, and retreating now would look suspicious. As the thoughts whirled round his head he realised his body had gone on autopilot and followed the guard into a small side room.
"Please mate, I really need to piss," he tried.
"No can do," the guard nodded to the security camera in the corner of the room, "I'll get written up if they see I've not checked."
The guard shut the door and the sounds of the mall faded. Finn could hear his heart pounding in his chest.
"So what happens now?" he said, hoping his voice was somewhat level.
"You just need to take your top off mate, we look for any abnormal tissue or scaring," the guard replied.
Finn swallowed. He could play the binder off as an undershirt, and his breasts off as a hormone condition. He tried to remember the word... Gymcom? Genemast? Gyneco... gynecomastia! Finn began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the grey binder beneath. The guard stared at his phone, then glanced up.
"And the undershirt too mate,"
Finn smiled in what he hoped was a convincing manner and began to wriggle out of the binder. He grimaced as he felt his breasts escape from its thick cotton panel. The guard looked confused at his hairy, but still very present, breasts.
