Megan, nerdy 19yrd wants to be in a Harem!

The notebook was perfectly ordinary. Outright unassuming really, made of shiny faux leather in charcoal gray and off white paper. It fit on the table in the cafe so well I'd easily believe a fellow student or forgetful writer had left it behind.

Totally normal. Mundane.

Except the table had been empty when I sat down, the notebook had simply appeared there between blinks, a sharp no.2 pencil laying beside it. A shiver ran its way down my spine, a confused mix of gnawing terror and thrilling excitement. Today was supposed to be a relaxing break! I mentally whined.

I've read many stories that began like this. Only, which genre am I in?

I swallowed down my nervousness, glanced around at the quiet cafe to see that no one was paying any attention to me, and reached for the book.

(What other choice did I have? I was hardly going to just ignore this and leave it for someone else to find. It may not be the smartest decision I could make, but it's the one I'm making right now.)

The book felt just as normal to the touch as it did to sight. No ethereal chill or impossible pulse of warmth. Just a slightly fancy book. I could buy another just like it for less than twenty dollars at any AllMart.

On the very first page, there was a simple title in plain, black lettering. No manufacturer or publication information, no scribbles or doodles in the margins, nothing to tell me anything about a prior owner. Just the title.

[THE RULEBOOK]

A shaky laugh escaped my lips. Was this really happening? I flipped the page and more writing revealed itself slightly faster than I could read it, as if an invisible author was leaning over my shoulder.

The World runs on Rules. Schools and companies have their handbooks. Neighborhoods have their homeowner's associations. Countries have their laws and regulations. Cultures have their traditions and religions have their tenets and beliefs. People have their habits and instincts and psychological quirks. You and everyone around you spend all day following rules— especially when you believe you aren't.

Wouldn't it be nice if you could be the one writing the rules for once? Now you can. This is the Rulebook. Simply list the name of an organization and write your rules beneath it. Nearly any rule you can think of will be followed by everyone who belongs in that organization. No matter how big or small, from all of Earth to one family, even single individuals if you know their name and face.

You can write Old Rules and New Rules. People will treat Old Rules casually, like they've been around forever, a Law of Reality. The world will even change to accommodate Old Rules as you write them. On the other hand, New Rules only go into effect once you've written them down. People will still follow them, but they may express nervousness, embarrassment, excitement, or other emotions about them.

There are few limits. They can be bent. Do not attempt to break them more than once.

I can't wait to see what Rules you make. Enjoy~

Oh! And do be careful with what tool you write with, wouldn't want to accidentally make something awful permanent, now would we?

I had stopped breathing entirely, my whole body frozen in shocked disbelief. Air rushed into my lungs in a gasp as the tension I was under snapped and was replaced with soaring excitement and sinking dread. My eyes ran over the cafe in paranoia, but as I looked around again, it finally dawned on me that it was suspicious how absolutely no one had so much as glanced in my direction. The other customers, sure, but for none of the baristas walking by to ask me what I was doing sitting here without ordering? Couldn't be a coincidence.

At least, it couldn't if any of this was real and not a hallucination. There had to be a way to test the Rulebook. Something obvious, not dangerous, and could only be because of me.

My hand picked up the pencil and wrote the first thing that popped into my head.

[Old Rule: The employees of this cafe are required to wear nothing other than their assigned apron and comfortable shoes.]

…I'm not going to question this, I knew exactly why this was my first thought. Once again, I looked around at the cafe. My mouth fell open and I stared, only not drooling because of how dry my mouth had gotten from the stress earlier.

My thighs squished together wetly at the sight of the baristas clad in nothing but their shoes and mint green aprons, with name tags pinned right at their cleavage. They often wore long socks or thigh high stockings out of either fashion or modesty, and small professional smiles. There were no shocked exclamations or scandalized whispers from the customers or baristas as they went about their work, asses bare to the world. This was perfectly normal. It always has been.

At the counter stood a tall, redheaded barista. Pretty and somewhat athletic with a friendly smile on her face, maybe late twenties. I'd seen her before in town, I think I went to highschool with her younger brother. She'd always made a point to be well dressed. Lots of pretty dresses and long flowy skirts, fitted blouses and tops. She'd worn a full suit to our graduation last year.

Now her pink areolas peeked out from the sides of the apron, stiff nipples leaving little impressions in the fabric. When she turned to collect some pastries from the shelf behind her, the smooth curves of her bare back were revealed for all to see. The apron’s tassels were tied into a pretty little bow knot just above her ass. Like she was a present waiting to be opened~

That last thought made me shiver and bite my lip in envious arousal.

My mind whirled at the thoughts that ran through my head until I grew dizzy with them and the sudden excitement that finally did away with the last of my fear and hesitation at the crazy situation. The possibilities that just opened up for me! My years of reading internet erotica and shitty fanfiction had prepared me for this moment! Every kinky fantasy was a few pencil lines away. I could stop being Megan, the chubby nerd, and become whatever my Master wants for his Harem! Fulfill all of his deepest desires, and in turn, fulfill my own.

But first, I needed to thank the cafe for being the place I found the Rulebook. I know, I know, I'm being far too selfless, it's a regretful flaw of mine.

I began to write, my normally cutesy handwriting deteriorating into a messy scrawl as my breathing deepened. It certainly didn't help that my other hand snuck its way under my skirt while I was distracted.

[Old Rule: This cafe is called The MilkyMaid Cafe and only hires young women. These women are called MilkyMaids.]

[Old Rule: Mysteriously, upon hiring the employees grow endlessly lactating breasts nearly the size of their heads. Short cow horns grow at their temples, along with cow ears and cow tails at the appropriate places. From their mid thigh down their legs grow soft fur and end in cloven hooves, while the rest of their bodies grow soft and thicc. The MilkyMaids universally love their new bodies and no one questions how this happens or cares enough to investigate. This transformation the MilkyMaids undergo is extremely pleasurable and has no negative side effects. In fact, the MilkyMaids find that they are fantastically healthy and hardy, with the proportional strength of a cow.]

[Old Rule: The MilkyMaids can only reverse the transformation by quitting. Though very few would ever want to, for some of their boosted vitality is inherited by any children they may have as a MilkyMaid.]

[Old Rule: All the MilkyMaids have full control over their lactation. With enough practice, the MilkyMaids can produce any drink on the menu! Including hot chocolate, every variety of coffee or tea, and of course cold or warm milk in several flavors.]

[Old Rule: The uniform of the MilkyMaids consists of a latex corset over a frilly blouse with an open chest and puffy sleeves. They wear opera gloves and no panties beneath their short skirts. They carry a side pouch full of disinfectant wipes for their nipples, so they can always serve their customers a hygienic drink!]

[Old Rule: The MilkyMaids happily serve their customers in whatever sexual manner they wish. Although anal penetration is off limits in the eating area, and the MilkyMaids may decline these duties if they are in a dedicated relationship. The transformation ensures a MilkyMaid cannot become pregnant accidentally and the milk they produce provides a wonderful boost to the drinker's immune system, rendering all diseases harmless even weeks afterward.]

I bit my lip as I pushed down a moan. This was so hot! My fingers left my pussy and I looked around to see my handiwork.

It. Was. Beautiful.

Before I came along, this was a small, cozy cafe with maybe eight tables and booths, run by three baristas and a manager. Now there was enough seating for a small crowd, and a stairway leading up to a loft full of private rooms.

Nearly a dozen cowgirl baristas trotted on their hooves, skirts and tails swishing happily as they rolled their hips with every step. Serving coffee and pastries and sandwiches to the hungry customers. Along with the…other services they provide~

I gasped when I saw an older couple suckling together on a tanned MilkyMaid. She was bent over their table so far I could see her dripping pussy between plump thighs after each playful swing of her tail. Then I watched as the two pulled back and nodded at each other before pointing at the menu with a pair of satisfied smiles on their faces. Testing the taste before they buy.

At the table across from me a buff black guy in workout clothes signaled a blonde MilkyMaid and asked her a question I shivered at hearing. "Excuse me Miss, are you free to use?"

The blonde perked up and stepped over with arms folded at her waist to frame her milky tits. "Of course! I'm able to offer our full menu of sexual services, though if you wish to use my ass or take longer than a half hour, it'll cost extra and we'll need to retire to a private room." She chirped, smile wide and tail whipping cheerfully.

The man smiled and unzipped his pants, pulling out an impressively thick cock. "I just need you to ride me for a few minutes while I drink my coffee."

She adjusted her skirt and straddled him with a pleased hum as his cock slid home smoothly in one easy stroke. Her body was perfectly designed for this purpose. Because of the Rules I wrote.

"Thank you for choosing The MilkyMaid Cafe, sir! Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you." The MilkyMaid recited. Then, almost as an afterthought, she said, "I'm Sarah, by the way!"

He was too busy drinking from her teat to respond, so she simply smiled fondly with a roll of her eyes and started stroking his hair as she raised and lowered her hips in a smooth and gentle rhythm. She even started humming a song that matched her pace, interspersed with little gasps and giggly moans when her customer switched nipples or bucked his hips harder.

Ooh I'm so jealous! She looks so happy and content riding his dick~

It was all too easy to imagine myself in her position, impaled on a fat cock in public. Cumming and moaning for all to see as broad hands gripped my ass and drank from my teats...

I was snapped out of my lustful haze by another cheery voice. My glasses were fogged up and both hands were at my pussy again.

"Welcome to the MilkyMaid Cafe, I'm Julia! What can I get for you?" The same MilkyMaid serving the older couple from earlier grinned at me with her hands behind her back to push her tits out. The light brown skin around her chocolate nipples glistened, showing she'd been used recently. I gulped nervously, simultaneously too turned on and too nervous to speak.

Julia tilted her head at my silence, causing her ink black hair to brush against her left nipple, her grin grew as she followed my gaze. "Might I offer you some soothing chocolate milk? It's my specialty!" Somehow, a single drop beaded up on her nipple, hanging precariously close to dropping on my table.

My jaw moved but no noise came out, my tongue felt like it was suddenly made of lead for how heavy it was.