A change in a cafe's morning menu

It was still early at the coffee café, and the morning rush for expensive coffee hadn’t arrived yet. Mike yawned as he looked around for the manager, Bruce. The man was a stickler for rules being followed to a T and allergic to the sight of idle baristas. And for some reason, Bruce seemed to have it out for him, or at least it felt like that.

But Mike wasn’t the only one slacking. He sat in a booth, phone in hand, while Brianna made herself a drink with a bored look, Jazmine snapped selfies with the café in the background, and Rhea was straight-up asleep at one of the counters.

The quiet hum of the espresso machine and faint jazz music filled the empty space. Shrugging, Mike scrolled through social media, laughing at a news post about a supervillain’s humiliating defeat via losing his costume when a shadow loomed over him.

“What are you doing lazing around? Can’t you see how busy we are?” Bruce asked, glaring down with his usual disapproval.

Mike blinked, feeling a sudden wave of disorientation washing over him. What was Bruce talking about? They weren’t busy.

However, when he looked around the café, he saw that the place was practically packed. Customers lined up at the counter while the other baristas hurried around taking orders. The quiet jazz had been replaced by the buzz of conversation and the hiss of the milk steamer. He blinked hard again. That couldn’t be right. Wasn’t it just empty a second ago?

“Right,” Mike managed to say as he shoved his phone and his confusion away. “I’m on it.”

“What are you doing lazing around? Can’t you see how busy we are?” Bruce asked, again, looking down at him with usual disapproval, again.

"Didn't you just...?" But Mike didn't get a chance to finish his question as his manager walked back to his office, backward. Even the door swung open by itself as Bruce disappeared inside.

"It's too early to deal with this nonsense," muttered Mike as he shoved his way past the customers. He could never understand why his boss was so backward sometimes. The weird time-slips and physics-defying movements were getting more frequent lately. However, Mike had bills to pay, and getting occasionally reversed whenever his manager was near wasn’t enough reason to quit a steady job.

Behind the counter, Brianna glanced at him as he stood by the cash register. “Bruce giving you a hard time?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said, fishing his apron out from under the counter and slipping it on. He **** a cheerful grin and turned to his first customer: a man in a business suit. Of course. Probably in a rush and about to order something complicated.

“Good morning,” Mike said. “What can I get you?”

The businessman, a fat cat in a suit that probably cost more than Mike’s rent, tapped his chin like he was pondering the mysteries of the universe. His eyes drooled over the menu, but Mike could tell he wasn’t really seeing the words. He was seeing something else, something he wanted to taste. “I can't decide,” he finally declared. “Can I get the _Surprise Smoothie Special _with extra milk?”

Mike's smile tightened. The Surprise Smoothie Special. Fucking great. The drink wasn’t on the menu. It wasn’t on any menu, in any restaurant. But any staff worth their pay knew that drink. It was concoction that somehow contained exactly what the customer wanted without them specifying ingredients. Mike didn’t even understand the mechanics behind the drink, how it seemed to materialize different flavors for each person. Mike scribbled down the order, already calculating how much he could gouge the bastard for. Since it was off the books, the price was his to play with.

“One moment, sir,” Mike said as he turned and stepped into the kitchen.

It didn’t take long to gather the usual ingredients for the damn smoothie. He took some fruit, a splash of juice, a pinch of whatever the hell made it “special”. Mike was barely paying attention but knew whatever he was doing was going to make that man happy. But then he opened the fridge and his heart sank. “We don’t have any milk,” he hissed, the words catching in his throat. And the fat cat wanted extra milk.

Mike started pacing, his mind racing. He could ask Brianna, Jazmine, or Rhea. They were always good for a quick squeeze, their tits practically overflowing with the white stuff. He glanced out at the front, and there they were, already at it, casually lifting their shirts and squirting milk into the thirsty customers’ drinks. The sight of those swollen tits made his cock twitch, but the businessman was getting impatient, checking his watch like every second was costing him a fortune.

“Fuck,” Mike muttered, scratching his head. If not from the girls, maybe he could get milk from… a femboy? A new idea popped into his head.

However, the barista shook his head as paced around the cramped kitchen like a caged animal. The cafe didn't have a femboy, not a single one, and he didn't recall seeing any in the crowded cafe. He didn't have time to search for one, anyway. Besides, where the hell was he going to find someone with a cute boyish outfit just lying around?

But as he thought the thought, something started to shift. A subtle twitch in the air, a ripple in reality. His baggy jeans tightened, hugging his thighs before hiking up to his hips, the denim morphing into a short, pleated skirt that barely covered his ass. His socks stretched, riding higher and higher until they became black stockings that gleamed under the dim kitchen lights, while his worn-out sneakers transformed into a pair of dangerously high heels. His loose shirt shrunk, clinging to his chest as a tight crop top, and underneath, a bra snapped into place, cupping his hairy chest.

Of course, the sudden change went unnoticed by Mike, his mind too preoccupied with the milk situation. He wobbled in his heels, nearly falling on his face before catching himself, his hips swaying with a newfound grace as if he’d always walked in heels

“And femboys have boyish bodies,” he thought aloud, his voice a little higher, a little breathier than before.

His average male height shrunk, bones creaking and muscles shifting until he was barely above five feet tall. His pecs slightly inflated, pushing against the fabric of his crop top while his body hair vanished, leaving his skin smooth and sensitive. His short hair grew, cascading past his neck in soft waves, and his lips plumped, becoming full and inviting.

“And femboys have makeup and accessories,” Mike continued, his voice now a sweet whisper.

Eye shadow appeared around his eyes, smokey and alluring, as lip gloss and lipstick painted his lips a glossy pink. His nails lengthened and sharpened as they were colored a vibrant red. Nearby, a pink purse materialized on the door handle, filled with Mike’s stuff, along with a few extra surprises: a butt plug, still slick with lube, and a massive dildo.

“And they’re super horny and have a big cock.” Mike gasped, his hand instinctively reaching down, feeling the bulge between his legs. He felt himself, feeling his erection stretch past his panties. “Silly me, the cafe already has a femboy. How about we get that extra, creamy milk?”

What's next?

1. Mike finishes making the order
2. Head back to Tiffany as she heads out of her home
3. See how Bruce is doing
4. Early morning yoga class in the park but the new instructor is running late