Barista - A New Blend

“I’m really sorry Harry, but something’s come up,” Linda said, hanging up her phone and walking back into the coffee shop.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to clear up some of the loose grounds that had spilled over the wooden counter. They would be opening soon, and he knew that Linda liked everything to be perfect for potential customers as they walked in through the door.

“It’s something at one of my other shops – a staff member is sick. I’m going to have to cover them”, she said, her lips thinning. Harry slid the coffee grounds into the bin, wiping his hands down his brown apron. “Are you going to be okay here on your own? I know you’ve never worked here alone before, but you can manage it, right?” Linda asked pleadingly.

“Sure, Linda! No worries!”, Harry said with a smile that he hoped accurately portrayed his confidence. His manager gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Harry. I knew I could count on you. I’ll be back at the end of your shift to see how you’ve come along”, she said, heading towards the door. As she left, the immensity of the task ahead of Harry was suddenly realised.

Linda was completely right, he had never run the shop by himself before, having only worked a handful of shifts under the watchful eyes of his manager. He stared up at the menu, artistically chalked onto the blackboard above his head. He wasn’t sure what half of the drinks on the board even were. A part of him even considered running a reduced menu for the day, at least until Linda had taught him how to make everything. But, Harry was new to the job, and if there was one thing he was more worried about than disappointing customers who couldn’t get their double mocha frappucino, it was disappointing Linda. The manager had taken a chance on him, and the young man was determined not to fail her now that he had unexpectedly been given the opportunity to impress her. The thought spurned him onwards, ignoring the panic at being responsible for the whole shop for the whole day.

Harry took a deep breath, fastening the apron tight around his body. Checking his watch, he knew he didn’t have long until the morning rush hour crowd would stagger into Linda’s new shop, desperate for their caffeine fix. There was still a lot to do. He made his way around the small shop, carefully rearranging the aged wood chairs and wiping any residual dust and stains from the surfaces. As more grounds worked their way into the pores of his hands, his skin slowly tingled. Harry thought nothing of it, eager to get everything ready in time.

As he walked back over to the coffee machine, giving it a final check over before opening, the strange tingling sensation went. Harry grabbed a cloth, polishing the metal to a mirror shine, his own nervous face reflecting back at him. He gave himself a weak smile, trying to at least look like he knew what he was doing. As he polished, Harry’s skin changed. The calluses that had quickly built up on his hands faded, the flesh becoming soft and gentle. The hairs across his arms went, the skin beneath losing all of its roughness and blemishes. With Harry unaware, the changes spread across his whole body. The stubble that had recently emerged from his jawline receded, giving him a youthful, boyish complexion. The hair across his chest and legs was gone, with just a small, well-groomed patch of pubic hair above his genitals remaining.

Harry glanced at his reflection again and tried to muster his best customer facing smile. With the expression of friendliness locked across his features, he headed to the door, flipping over the ‘closed’ sign, opening the shop to the public. He hurried back to the other side of the counter, half expecting a throng of people to burst in the door behind him, demanding drinks. Mercifully, he had a few moments to steel himself before anyone came.

The bell chimed, and in came a middle-aged businessman, his thin hair tousled by the wind outside. Harry breathed out slowly, the soft, royalty free jazz playing in the background of the shop fading from his focus. This was it: his first order.

“Get me a large latte”, the businessman demanded, snapping his fingers.

“Right away, sir!” Harry said with a smile, the customer not even looking up from his phone. Despite the man’s rudeness, Harry felt confident. He had made lattes before. It was one of the most basic drinks and the first that Linda had ever shown him how to make. The ratio of espresso to steamed milk was drilled into him early on in his training. His hands ran across the coffee machine, like it was some strange instrument in an unknown orchestra, the sounds of the bleeping buttons, the hissing steam, and the percussive hits of the coffee scoop against the side of it all forming a comforting rhythm. As he went through the practised motions, his hands a blur, they slowly began to change. His nails, once anxiously chewed and torn, were repaired in an instant, the polished gloss almost as brilliant as the shining metal of the machine that they worked on so precisely. His fingers were no longer the clumsy implements that he had fumbled through training with, but were the slim, precise digits of a professional. Harry’s arms followed suit, losing the slight muscle mass that Harry had tried once to build and losing all of their bulk. As he turned back around to the man and said the price through smiling teeth, he hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

“I asked for a large. That’s a medium”, the businessman said, making no effort to hide his disappointment. Harry looked down at the cup, immediately realising his mistake. He had been so focused on making the drink properly that he had used the wrong cup size. How could he have been so careless?

“I’m sorry sir!” he said, moving to reach the cup. “I’ll fix that for you right away”.

“No, it’s fine”, he said, swiping his card with a sense of derision that made it clear that it was not actually fine at all. “I’m in a rush, anyway”, he said, taking his drink and marching out the door. As he left, Harry almost wanted to hang his head in his hands. He just hoped that he hadn’t lost Linda a customer with his lack of attention. He promised himself he’d do better, keen to not disappoint her. Leaving no time for Harry to feel sorry for himself, the bell chimed again, and a woman in her late teens walked in, golden hair bouncing with every step.

“Hi, how can I help?” Harry asked.

“Hi! Can I get a large oat milk mocha?” she asked, smiling pleasantly, her hair curling around one pink topped finger.

“Sure!” Harry said, making sure to grab a large cup before heading over to the coffee machine. As he worked at the machine, he was slowly getting into the flow. He was enjoying it far more than he expected. Harry poured the chocolate into the mixture with a warm smile. He felt his hair tickle his neck for a moment but put the feeling aside. Thick, chocolate brown locks were sprouting from his scalp, and they tumbled effortlessly down his body. Pouring in the milk substitute, his legs began to slim down, soon matching his arms from earlier. With a ripple, the muscle had disappeared, leaving him with two thin, womanly legs.

“Enjoy your drink!” Harry called out to the woman as she paid and headed out of the door. Soon, a steady stream of customers were arriving, and Harry served them all with confidence and a glowing smile. The morning rush came and went, followed by couples and business meetings that chatted quietly across the tables. Harry watched them with a quiet happiness. Everyone felt welcome here. The coffee shop was a place of peace and quiet in the bustle of these people’s day, and he was just glad to be a small part of it.

With every drink Harry served, his face was gradually losing its masculinity. As he handed over two frappucinos to two girls out for a brunch date, his jaw softened from its rough square into a high point, his cheekbones shifting. With a decaff cappuccino served to an elderly man, his nose warped, upturning into a cute button. A soy latte to a young couple alongside a croissant, and Harry’s eyebrows lost their roughness, becoming perfectly groomed. His eye lashes curled as he made another mocha, kindly passing the drink to a more cheerful businessman than before. He somehow found that he knew how to make every drink, the exact blend and mixture coming perfectly to his mind. To his customers, Harry’s face was now that of a beautiful young woman, cheerfully and glowing during the workday. Even as Harry half caught his own eye in the reflection from the coffee machine, he didn’t see anything wrong. He had always looked like this, he reminded himself, tossing his hair perfectly over one shoulder.

Soon, Harry felt the need to refresh, and made a small latte for himself to drink. As the coffee reached his lips, they puffed out, covered in a thin layer of lip gloss. The drink tasted far better than he remembered from when he sampled a few drinks during training. Perhaps, he thought, it tasted better now that he knew the hard work that went into each cup. Harry swallowed the frothy, steamed milk, and as the liquid made the journey down to his stomach, the fat across his body painlessly bubbled. It built up in his rear, his jeans stretching and adjusting to accommodate his newly feminine behind, pert and athletic beneath the tight denim. He leant back, taking another sip, as his thighs thickened. With a third sip, two mounds of fat sprung from Harry’s chest, his nipples puffing out. His apron was soon pulled taut as two small, perky breasts emerged, his white t-shirt now sitting more comfortably than ever on his adjusted, shrunken frame.

The lunch crowd slowly left the coffee shop in drips and drabs, most offering a cursory ‘goodbye’ to Harry behind the counter. With each patron that he politely wished to have a nice day, his voice rose, higher and higher until it was undeniably feminine, a clear, loud soprano cutting through the hubbub of the shop. Eventually, Harry was left alone. Knowing he wouldn’t get a chance for a quick break again, he dashed to the front door, adjusting immediately to his altered centre of gravity as if he had been moving in this body for his whole life. Flipping over the sign to ‘closed’, Harry headed out back to the toilet.

Strangely, Harry felt the urge to sit down on the seat. Thinking nothing of it, Harry did so, his newly plush rear spreading out against the cold porcelain. Once he had finished his deed, Harry sat for a moment, gathering his breath. Slowly, his penis began to recede, slipping up inside of his body with a wet pop. Afterwards, two testes followed, bursting painlessly inside their body into a pair of ovaries. The barista stood up, pulling their silky underwear over their new womanhood. She washed her hands and got back to the front entrance, quickly flipping the sign back over. She knew she couldn’t miss the afternoon rush!

Hours later, Linda made her way back into the shop. Upon seeing the young barista behind the counter, mopping the floor with a quiet song on her lips, she couldn’t help but smile.

“How was your first shift alone, Harriet?” Linda asked with a knowing smile. The barista looked up with that brilliant smile that had attracted so many customers throughout the day.

“Busy, but great! I can’t wait to get to work tomorrow!” she said, delighted. Harriet loved her job, and she knew she was eager to start her next shift.

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The winner of my latest poll, chosen by patrons on my Priestess tier! This was a fun little story to write. I'm hoping to do more polls like this in the future in between commissions!