There was no need for servers or waitress' in the Play Box. It was all handled in-house by the magic of the location.  However, that did nothing to stop the clientele from volunteering for the position in order to take advantage of the opportunities, or to simply earn some tips.

Lindsey was expecting a little bit of both as she carried the drinks on her platter across the common room.  She wore her brown hair long this night, reaching loosely down her back, as well as framing her face with thick locks. A small hairband ran over her head to hold up the pair of white rabbit ears, a necessary accessory in her view.  She walked in black flats, her disdain for heels still alive and well. Up her legs were black silk stockings, sheer enough to let the skin show through all the way up to her thighs. She also had similar black sleeves for her arms, from the tips of her fingers to just below her shoulders. Around her neck was a red bow-tie.

Naturally, she wouldn't be a waitress if she wasn't otherwise naked, her sex and tits on full display.

"Here you go, sir." She approached the man who placed the order with her, and leaned over to pick his drink off the platter and set it down in front of him, then again for the woman who was his companion for the evening.  If they noticed her at all, they gave no indication, and Lindsey looked around for the next order.

She saw a group of young men sitting casually around a table, and one of them gestured over to her.  She approached, noting that they were all wearing casual clothes and chatted like friends. "May I take your order?" she asked, platter in front of her.

The four already had their requests ready. "Beer!" one requested, "Water," the second said. "I'll have a beer too, draft if you have it," the third young man said. "And I'll have a martini," the fourth said.

Lindsey repeated the orders back, then after confirmation, turned to the bar to collect the drinks.  "Nice ass," she heard from behind her, so she naturally turned her head and winked in the direction of the table to indicate she had heard, giving her hips a little extra saunter as she walked.

Collecting the order, she balanced the platter with the four drinks on one hand. If the boys there liked her ass, she would definitely play her body up for any additional rewards, verbal or physical they may have had in mind.  On previous shifts, she had been complimented for her charms, groped and even more.

"Here you are," she announced as she approached, the four men quieting down as she started to distribute the drinks. "Draft beer for you," she passed the mug over, "Normal for you," she handed over the non-draft to the person who asked for it. "Water, and finally, the martini," she set down the glass in front of the last to order.

"Is there anything else you'd like," she asked, dropping the arm with the empty platter behind her, and raising one arm to go through her hair. The effect was quite clear as the four men stared at her with different expressions.

"Actually, yes," the Martini man said as he looked at his glass. "How much to have you sit in my glass?"

It was obviously something that the four of them were discussing ahead of time if their reactions were anything to go by. "Well," Lindsey said, "that depends on how long I have to sit there," she put one gloved finger to her lips, pretending to think, but really reciting the costs laid down by the Play Box. "You want me to be there for one drink, or until you're done for the evening?"

Martini (as she thought of him now), paused to think. "What's the difference?"

She told him.

"Whole evening," he replied without delay. "Full service."

"Alright," she said, vanishing the platter behind her back. It would reappear at the bar, along with a notification about her change in status for the evening. It was nothing to worry about as many wait staff didn't finish their shift for this reason.

With that out of the way, Lindsey stepped onto the table, trusting that it wouldn't fall over.  Removing her shoes, she poked the small martini with her foot.  "Hold that steady, will you?" she asked Mr. Martini, indicating the glass.

Taking it by the stem, Mr. Martini looked up at his bunny-eared waitress in all her glory as she carefully stepped into his drink.  There was only the slightest ripple as she touched the liquid, and as he looked down at her stockinged feet, he saw the refraction in the drink make her look decidedly smaller.

When her ankle passed into his glass, and the level of the liquid hadn't changed, he looked up at her, only to see her smile at him past her breasts.  He gulped as she swing her hips around to face him directly, then with gentle care, lifted up her other foot to slide in beside her first one.

To everyone, it looked like she was standing completely atop the glass, her legs pushed together into an area too small as the drink itself refused to register the additional volume.  Balanced precariously above it all, Lindsey carefully started to wiggle back and forth, working her way down into the glass.  At first it was slow going, but as she settled further and further into the glass, she could feel the magic working, making things easier.

Mr. Martini watched in wonder as the full sized woman came down toward him, but if he leaned down, he could see that her legs were tiny inside the glass, kicking as they touched the bottom and bounced off.

Going even further, Lindsey soon reached her knees, and she slowly worked even them down further, enjoying the expression on Mr. Martini's face.  Whatever he was expecting, she decided, this wasn't it.

She stopped once her hands were able to rest on the table, her legs all the way up her stockings currently in the drink.  "You, uh, might want to move that," she told Mr. Martini.

"Move what?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"The garnish?" she pointed at the olive that someone escaped being touched by her.  "Trust me," she said with a wink, "you'll want that later."

Mr. Martini carefully reached out and plucked the olive on the toothpick out of the glass, his hand touching her thigh in the process. "Don't stop there," she told him. "You might not get a second chance," she licked her lips in anticipation.

To the cheers of his fellows, Mr. Martini rolled the olive along her leg, from the outside toward the inside.  Once it was between her legs, and a quick glance confirmed that she didn't mind at all.  For a couple moments, he explored that space before she put one hand in the way. "That's enough," she said, blushing.

With that, she pulled herself farther down, her hips hitting the edges of the glass with their full width, yet at the same time they were just as wide as the glass.  Mr. Martini watched as she dropped further into the glass, lowering herself with more ease.  She slid one arm inside the glass, then the other, seemingly trying to pull down from inside.

Lindsey stopped again as her bust started to rest on the lip of the glass. "Hey," she cooed, "wanna help?"

"How?" He asked.

"Easy," she nodded downward. "I just need you to push those in for a moment."

Mr. Martini got the idea and put his hands against her breasts.  He gently squeezed them, allowing Lindsey to pull them under the lip of the glass, leaving only her shoulders and head above the liquid - and Mr. Martini with a good memory.

"Be right back," she said, and took a deep breath.  For the four young men watching the display, she dove under the surface of the drink, still life-sized, and still small enough to fit in.  Then, her head poked out, cloth ears first, her long brown hair drifting around her.

Lindsey treaded the martini, having shrunk herself down to the size where it was about the size of her room to put it in perspective. Her feet bounced off the bottom of the glass, and if she had to guess, she figured she was about three-quarters of an inch tall.

Around her, the four giants leaned over, obvious shock on their faces as she leaned back and back stroked for the edge of the glass. "Hey there," she called out. "Aren't you going to drink?"

Mr. Martini carefully lifted up the glass as the bunny-waitress reached the edge and held on. He tipped the drink slightly and sipped. "Tastes good?" she called out, her voice clear despite the size of the woman.

"Yeah," he replied as she kicked out her legs, proudly displaying all she had.

"So," Mr. Martini asked as he eyed her and the olive. "What did you mean when you said I wanted to keep this for later?"

"Dude," one of his friends said. "You have a stick. You can poke her!"

"He's right, you know." Lindsey said with a knowing grin, keeping herself floating face up. "How could I resist? Or refuse?"