Harem World

—everything snapped into place, like I'd closed my eyes and missed a step. I hadn't even felt any real nausea or dizziness. The change had been nearly instant, I had just enough time to register that things were warping like wet paint before it was done.

I shuddered at the not-sensation, sobered a little by the experience. What had I done? How much had changed? Did everything work the way I'd hoped? It was both terrifying and thrilling to have so much power.

I looked around the cafe and decided it was mostly thrilling, especially when my new tits wobbled in my shirt. Eee! I'm a shortstack!

The customers were very different now. Most were small women or femboys, not that it was easy to tell the difference. Out of maybe twenty people there were only three men and a single tall muscular futa had just walked in like she owned the place and everyone in it. A tiny girl trailed in after her, the dreamy little smile on her lips grew wider when the futa reached back to pull the girl into her side. The MilkyMaids remained mostly unchanged, maybe a little shorter on average.

The buff black guy and the blonde Maid I saw earlier were still bouncing away. Though a pair of slender women wearing collars accompanied him now, chatting as they ate their food beside them.

No one looked to be past their mid-forties and everyone was at least passingly fit and healthy. The only woman with graying hair was a plump and maternal shortstack sitting in a corner booth reading a book and sipping from her teacup.

"Hey Megan, you alright? You kinda spaced out there." A teasing voice chirped into my ear.

Someone was sitting at my table.

I had been joined by a cute tomboy or femboy with a blonde pixie cut, a nose ring, and familiar blue eyes in a face that was almost a mirror to my own. They wore a sleeveless black athletic top that pressed down any breasts they may have had and dark green cargo shorts that left a few inches of bare midriff and much of their toned thighs exposed.

Their smirk melted away as I stared at them, thoroughly befuddled. Who was this? The disorientation intensified as answers **** their way into my head. I could barely make sense of them— my vision doubled and blurred at the edges after every blink.

A warm hand was placed on my forehead. "Meg, should I call mom or something? Is it a migraine?" Those blue eyes grew worried as I squeezed my eyes shut and laid my head down as clearer memories suddenly assaulted me. "I think that Maid, Julia will be back in a minute, I'll ask her for some water too." I groaned a thanks, the icepick in my skull too much for anything else.

The chair screeched along the tile as my table mate sat next to me, massaging the base of my neck like what usually helped our mom when she had a migraine.

Wait.