FSE

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When it comes to wishes, people often make the mistake of wishing for finite resources. Wealth runs out, immortality leads to insanity, fame and rank eventually retire. If you ever get a wish, be sure to wish for ability. If you have your own ability to make the world fit your desires, what would you need for any further wishes?

"Ugh..." Mango ran a hand over his face. His eyes were tired, his dark hair a mess, his breath reeked and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. Here, at 1pm, he was just starting the day. Incredible dreams had filled his mind, and even now he couldn't shake the images he saw in his head.

As he showered, he recalled a vibrant lady with purple skin and pink and red hair, fiery orange eyes, and veils and shawls of yellow and blue. It hurt to look at her, and it had seemed like every time he blinked her body changed. Were her eyes orange? Or were they blue? Was she tall or short? At one point it seemed that she was the size of a house, and yet fit in his hand comfortably. She said something about wishes.

The dream-Mango had been thoughtful, as he was in his every day life. No sense in wasting an opportunity like a wish, even if it was just in his dream. He had wished for True Speak.

The woman asked him to clarify, and Mango wasn't sure if it was apprehension or unbridled excitement on her face. He explained in careful, measured words so as not to be misunderstood, and he checked a few times to make sure the woman had understood him.

"I want an ability called True Speak. I wish to have full control over this ability, to turn it on and off, and to correct mistakes as I see fit. This ability, when active, should allow every statement I make, no matter how false or outlandish, to become true."

Mango and the woman had a long conversation... How was he able to recount it all then, in the shower? It seemed so clear, like a conversation he'd just had over breakfast. He squirted soap over a sponge and started scrubbing, thoughtful as ever. It was rare that he could recount a dream. Perhaps the moment should be savored? Perhaps there was some meaning to it that his brain wanted to bring to his attention? The subconscious tended to solve problems in sleep, perhaps some grand problem had been all figured out?

The shark, satisfied with his level of hygeine, stepped out of the shower and started to towel off. He ran the towel over his dusky dark gray hair and over a face that pointed to a muzzle lined with teeth of varying sharpness. Down his neck, over his shoulders and slender arms and hands, then down his flat chest and stomach, and across a lanky back. He ran the towel along his long legs, contemplating the state of his khaki skin as he did. He took a last moment to run the towel from the base of his thick tail all the way down, over his pectoral fins and finally his tall fish-hook fluke, before hanging the towel on a rack. He grabbed his glasses from the counter, and though they'd steamed from the shower, he could still see his soft gray eyes in the mirror. Yes, Mango was a Lemon Shark. Mango wasn't really his real name, but he enjoyed the little fruit pun. At twenty-six, he was still trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, and for a moment he figured that the dream perhaps had lead to some breakthrough in that regard.

Until he muttered, "Time to go check on my billions." with a roll of his eyes as he got dressed.

His deceased parent's estate. It had been generous, but when he logged into his computer to check e-mails and officially get productive, he was rather surprised when some of the accounts had a few extra zeroes at the end of them. He frowned a bit... Was the bank website having an issue?

An anxious phone call and embarassed explanation later, and Mango sat back in his chair, staring at the wall, mouth hanging open just a bit, wordless.

Because of one careless phrase, a modest estate had ballooned. He gritted his teeth and frowned thoughtfully for a moment. A pang of grief ran through his chest before he started to consider the implications...

If I really do have the ability of True Speak, then all of the things in this world are completely malleable. Anything could be outside my door... A moment of panic rushed through his body like an ice bucket being dumped over his head. He had to test it. First, a pinch to make sure he was awake. Ow, yes, he was. Next, he took up a blue pen and glared at it. He wrote a word on a piece of paper, confirming that the ink was indeed blue, and then,

"This pen is red."

Not only the pen, but the ink on the paper, became red.

That's not quite right... They were always red. The ink on the paper, the pen in his hand. To the world outside of Mango's mind, that pen had been manufactured red, been bought red, and had always been red.

He tried it a few more times, changing the pen to different colors, then to different objects, "This pen is a pair of scissors," and it was, "This pair of scissors is a fist-sized emerald," and it was, "This emerald is a little Lego figure with a construction hat," and it was.

Either the lemon shark had jumped the shark, or he was in a whole new world where he could change potentially... anything. But how far did this power reach? He sat down on his bed with the little Lego figure, and then looked across the room to his mirror.

Apprehensively, like one might enter a doctor's office, he stepped up to the mirror. He wore his favorite Kill la Kill t-shirt and a pair of jeans that didn't fit quite right, "Alright. Whew. Here we go." he ran his hand over his face. What would he change? The self-proclaimed nerd never wanted to be a muscle-bound meat-head, but... "I have good posture. My body is in good health, is flexible, and has excellent stamina."

He watched, keenly aware of the little changes. His back felt funny, until he corrected his slouch a little, and once he did, that felt natural. He looked to his arms and hands. Nothing drastic. Alright, fair enough. He reached down towards his feet, and was amazed when he was able to plant his palms against the floor painlessly! He'd barely been able to reach his ankles before!

Standing back up, he closed his eyes... Sex. He was a young man, of course he thought about it. No sense denying it. His endowment wasn't overly generous, but it hadn't failed him, and yet... He found himself unzipping his pants and pulling out a fair seven-inch shaft, and muttered, "My cock is ten inches long..." and immediately smacked himself for the careless use of the word 'cock'. It had more meanings than one! He panicked and glanced around quickly, worried a chicken would appear in his room, yet a tingle brought his attention back to his crotch. His shaft had grown, not just in length, but in thickness, his balls matching proportions well.

The implications were a little stunning. Mango had assumed, with his logical, careful mind, that this ability would be literal, perhaps painfully so, and yet it had interpreted his meaning, and had kept things within appropriate proportions. He stuffed his new endowment in his pants and sat back on his bed.

What do I do now? His mind swam with possibilities. He could have anything. He could have everything... Right? Surely this ability wasn't limited to his own body and objects around him. With a deep breath, he slipped his sneakers on and headed out of his apartment. He needed a bigger test to sate his mind.

All the while, he tested himself to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Everything in the world was where it should have been. No strange labyrinths or hallucinations (other than his ability of course). The shark hadn't even bothered to upgrade his car (lest he not recognize it later) as he drove down to the beach.

The scene was beautiful. It was a Tuesday (right? He consulted his phone to make sure) and a few people were out surfing, swimming, or walking along the beach. The sun was out and warm, the sand was soft, and the sound of the waves soothing as ever. He really couldn't complain about living in southern California.

And yet, not a single bikini-clad babe in sight. It was a misconception that all beaches had beautiful women in bikinis at all times of the day, he'd found in his travels. From Florida to California, one couldn't simply go to a beach and expect to ogle some goods. There had to be some sort of event, party, or holiday. Yet, the craving to admire a woman in a skimpy bikini stuck with him and so he conteplated how best to satisfy this.

Did he just make a woman appear? Did he transform an object or other person into said woman? Did he set up a series of circumstances that a pretty girl in a bikini would be here? And even then, a girl being here wasn't that outlandish, so how did he stretch the limits of his power, if there were any?

"I have a beach chair," and he did, and so he sat in it, "And a lemonade," and it was so, and he took a long, slow sip of the drink. Curse his brain. Paralyzed by indecision, as he'd always been. This was why he couldn't figure out what he wanted to do with his life. He couldn't even think of a good way to see some bikini-clad breasts! With a snort and wry laugh, he started speaking.

"There's a beautiful, twenty year old woman, a pacific reef shark, with flawless skin and a shapely, toned body, dressed in nothing but a bikini, standing before me." He wondered what other details his statement would manufacture.

He blinked, and there she was. Jet black hair was tied in a long ponytail, dark eyes stared down at Mango, teeth bared in a bit of a grin. Her bikini was bright blue, and hugged a generous pair of breasts and hips, her gray skin toned and lovely, her thick tail swaying slowly behind her. And yet, her expression was one of confusion, which was concerning to the male shark, until she spoke in a sweet voice, "Did you need something?"

Mango was... stunned. He quickly looked around and noted that nothing else was out of the ordinary here. He stammered a bit, before taking a deep breath, "Yes. I want you to..." He tensed up, deciding to forge ahead, even if it meant suffering a very embarassing slap. Here goes, "I want you to give me a titjob. I can see it's your first day as Beach Slut here. It's your job to help people at the beach enjoy themselves in any way you can, and to accept demands to the best of your ability."

There was indeed a flash of anger across the woman's face, but as Mango spoke, it faded away and was replaced by a pleasant smile, "Oh, is that all? I was worried my first day was going to be super boring. I'm glad you came along!" She slid down onto her knees in the sand and reached forward with gentle hands, carefully undoing Mango's belt and jeans, pulling his ten-incher out into the open. Her eyes went a little wide at the sight of the handsome cock, and she ran her tongue over her lips, "Wow.. Really glad you came along.."

The sensation was... thrilling. Mango glanced around again to make sure nothing was wrong, that no police were being called by the lewd display, but even the people jogging past didn't give the two sharks two thoughts. 'Oh, there's a guy with the Beach Slut' they probably thought. The warm air on his cock, the breeze flowing across his bared flesh, and then... blissful warmth. "Ah... what's your name?" the male stuttered.

"Cindy," the Beach Slut sharkess cooed as she brought her bikini-clad breasts around the base of Mango's thick length. She started to slowly push and squish her soft breasts up and down the cock before her, a contented smile on her lips, "What's yours, cutie?"

"Mango.. What.. uh.. what got you into being the Beach Slut..?" For such a thing to exist in this modern, conservative world was mind-boggling. How much had this simple statement changed about the world around him? He had to know.

Cindy closed her eyes in thought as her breasts jiggled pleasantly and warmly all over the lemon shark's dick, "Um, well it pays alright, and I like making people happy. A friend of mine was a Beach Slut here for a while to help pay for college, and she met her husband by doing this. I don't mind getting a little dirty either, so the way I see it, it's all win-win, right?"

The male nodded, his cock pulsing. He fretted for a moment that all the blood rushing out of his brain and into his shaft would impair his thinking, so he was careful when he spoke, even as he did his best to enjoy the thrilling public experience, "Alright.." He gripped his lemonade in one hand and the beach chair's arm with the other, "This is the first time I've... er... called on the services of a Beach Slut... How many are there for this beach?"

The reef tip sharkess giggled, her tail swishing across the sand, "Wow, um, well according to the schedule, it depends on time of day and holiday, y'know? So, like, today's a really slow day, so it's just me, but on the weekend there are three other girls and two guys that prowl around and make sure everyone is having a good time."

Mango ran a hand over his face. That's how far that simple statement had gone? He'd not only created a girl out of thin air, but created a small organization and a culture around it that made public sex acts on the beach not only legal, but normal! His wheels were spinning fast in his head, and Cindy's delicious breasts sliding across his cock wasn't helping his focus at all.

So for once, the anxious shark just sat back and enjoyed. The excitement of the day, his pent-up need, and those soft fleshy orbs brought him to climax quite quickly, his enhanced cock pulsing and swelling with the volume of his orgasm. Cindy opened her mouth wide and caught his strands of cum across her tongue, then gave his cock an affectionate lick and gentle suckle, and swallowed his cum down, "Mmmnn... Thanks for the snack..."

"S-sure..." Mango sighed heavily, feeling utterly exhausted, "Thanks for the.. titjob...?"

"Any time, cutie." she slowly stood, adjusted her bikini a little, and bounced off to see who else she could help today. Mango noticed a simple button on the back of her bikini; 'Beach Slut'.

True Speak.

Mango, the lemon shark, could do anything he wanted. He zipped his pants up and sat back in his conjured chair, enjoying his conjured lemonade as he contemplated the world. The orgasm had calmed his mind, and thoughts seemed to flow a little easier. The only question on his mind now was... "What's next?"