The Reality Schism
By MangoTech
“Living alone has its perks,” I told my therapist during our bi-monthly phone session, “I’ve got all this space to myself. Everything’s right where I like it, I don’t have to worry about anyone else’s needs. I can focus on myself. Being a better person, I guess.”
“I’m glad you’re able to look on the bright side!”
She gave me a few other pointers, some things to think about, and I scheduled my next appointment. I hung up and took stock of the situation.
I was still in bed, dressed in nothing but my boxers, unshaved, unwashed. Snacks, the TV remote, even my laptop were all within arm’s reach. It was one in the afternoon. Yep, the single life was alright.
With a heavy sigh, I started my day, getting up and eating a bowl of sugary cereal for breakfast. Dishes were piling up in the sink. I’d take care of them later, or so I told myself. I took a shower, got dressed, took stock of my scruffy appearance, shrugged, and snagged my keys to check the mail, one of the few times I’d actually head outside. The day was beautiful. Bright blue sky, a few puffy clouds, and the temperature was perfect. I didn’t care much.
“Junk mail,” I grumbled, sifting through the coupon magazines and phone company ads. One envelope didn’t have a company name I recognized, so I held onto it and a few bills before chucking the rest into the recycling.
Back in my cozy apartment, I sat at my desk and checked the bills, glancing at them long enough to confirm that each had an ‘auto-pay’ sticker on them. “What a waste of paper.”
I came to the last envelope, blank save for my name and address, and an address somewhere out in Alabama. I pulled it open, half expecting another piece of junk mail that would try to get me to sign up for car insurance that I didn’t need.
A folded up letter and a small silver ring fell out onto my desk. I skimmed the letter.
This is yours, now. Just say ‘Schism Open’ and speak the truth with which you wish to re-write your reality. It will be so.
With a quirked brow, I tossed the letter aside and went to examine the ring. It was a thin silver ring with a small bead of black engraved along the center in a wavy line. It didn’t look particularly fancy, expensive, or even shiny, but it looked cool enough. I slid it onto my index finger and it fit well enough.
“A magic ring, eh?” I glanced around my apartment for a test subject. My eyes settled upon my bed, the bedding all in a heap in the center. “Schism open. My bed is clean and made.”
In the time that it took me to blink, the bed changed. The pillows were neatly lined at the head of the bed, the sheets and cover all neatly done as if by a professional service.
I stood slowly, my jaw hanging open. “No way… I probably made my bed and just… spaced out or something, right?” My eyes went back to the ring. It hadn’t tingled, it didn’t feel warm, it hadn’t changed at all.
Time to test something more meaningful. I went to the mirror to inspect myself and brought my phone along. My beard was, in a word, unkempt. Scraggly dark hairs peppered my cheeks, made a mess of my chin, and traveled halfway down my neck. It was not a beard, more like a bird’s half-hearted attempt at a nest. I snapped a picture of myself with my phone and noted the time, two in the afternoon.
“Schism open. My face is clean shaved.” This time I willed my eyes to remain open, and I was not disappointed.
In the span of a second or two, the hair on my face simply… disappeared. I noted rather thankfully that my eyebrows and eyelashes remained unchanged, but my beard was gone, leaving behind butter-smooth skin without a shred of evidence that I’d shaved. No razor burn! I glanced to my phone. Two-oh-one. I opened the picture I’d just taken. There I was with a beard.
“Alright, let’s go over what we know. My bed was made and my beard was shaved in record time. I have photographic proof that in only a minute I went from full scruff-mode to clean. There’s no possible way I could shave that fast, have not nicked myself, and wouldn’t remember it.” I took a deep breath. “In conclusion, I have a magic ring.”
I pride myself on being an intelligent, logical person when I need to be. So, the first few things that I did were simple tests.
Long story short, my apartment had never looked cleaner. My furniture was upgraded, my belongings restored to brand new, and my body cured of a pesky cough, removed of a few blemishes and moles that had embarrassed me for too long, and, yes, my cock improved.
Staring down at the ten-inch beast of a length, I had all the proof I need of several things.
“First, the ring doesn’t seem to have a number limit. No three wish max. Next, it makes statements true with no fancy magical flashes. It also seems to be able to understand my intent, which is why my eyebrows weren’t shaved off and I don’t suddenly own a ten-inch tall rooster. Also, the acquisition of belongings hasn’t impacted my bank account by even a cent.” I stuffed my shaft into my pants. It snaked down a leg, a bulge that made my cheeks burn with a mix of pride and shame.
“But I still don’t know if this is all just some hallucination that I’m enjoying from being alone for a little too long in my apartment. I need another test subject.” I nodded sagely to myself, grabbed my keys and wallet, and made my way out.
My destination was determined by a mixture of logic and lust. Who wouldn’t want to test out a new endowment swinging between their legs? I headed to a coffee shop nearby. It was a local place, large with fancy decorations but otherwise down on its luck. Management had poured a lot of money into the looks, but not into decent service or coffee. So, when I walked in I was pleased to see that it was nearly empty.
I ordered a muffin and a glass of milk, then made my way to a table in the back, pulling out my phone to disguise my reality-warping efforts.
Glancing around, I took note of the only other customer, a girl with thick glasses and a dark ponytail. She was slender, judging by her long legs, but the rest of her was obscured by a long sweater. She was set up with her computer and a stack of books, medical texts by the look of them. Any other time I’d have ignored her.
The barista brought my order a moment later. The only employee, she was a cute blonde, her hair short, face done up in a bit of makeup. She was a bit chubby, her sides muffining over the sides of her khaki pants behind the dark apron she wore for the coffee shop. Judging by her nametag, her name was Kate.
I thanked her, then returned to my phone, typing out a list of possible statements that I could make while gathering my thoughts. My cock throbbed in my pants. I hadn’t been laid for a year, and what I was about to do would either make me look like a crazy person muttering to himself in the corner of a coffee shop, or would score me something incredible.
Secretly, I snapped a picture of the med student before speaking. “Schism open,” I muttered, “the med student over there is wearing a tight white t-shirt instead of a sweater.”
And lo, it was true. The sweater had disappeared in an instant, replaced by a shirt that showed the slender form underneath. It hugged her torso tight enough that I could make out the shape of the bra she was wearing underneath. I could also see that she didn’t really need a bra, judging by the size of her chest.
I turned to my phone and referenced the picture that I’d taken moments ago. To my surprise, the picture showed the med student wearing a white shirt as well. The sweater had been deleted even from this photo.
“Either I hallucinated her wearing a sweater, or statements about myself operate differently than those directed at other people…” I tried something more daring. “Schism open. The girl over there has… double-d boobs.”
I expected her to scream, to wail in surprise as her breasts inflated very suddenly over her computer. She did nothing, but I did see her grow. Her shirt stretched over a new pair of melons and I noticed that the bra seemed to change as well. It didn’t dig into her skin, but seemed sized appropriately for her endowments.
“That confirms a ripple effect,” I noted, my cock pulsing even harder at the sight. “Schism open. The girl over there is going to walk over to me and quietly proposition me for a tit-job in the women’s restroom.”
My heart beat thunderously in my chest. This, in my mind, would be the ultimate validation of the ring’s abilities. I watched, bewildered, as the med student closed her computer and her books, packed everything away in her backpack, stood, and turned towards me. She did it naturally, I noted, not as if she was hypnotized to act a certain way. With her backpack slung over a shoulder and her breasts bouncing proudly ahead of her, she walked right towards me, a friendly smile on her lips.
I could see now that she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Her skin was slightly olive tinted, though I couldn’t place her ethnicity. Her long legs were clad in a pair of denim shorts that fit perfectly with the tight white shirt stretching over her bust. She leaned in close to me and murmured, “Hey, would you like to come with me for a bit? I want to give you a tit fuck. We can do it in the women’s restroom…”
“Sure…” I nodded with a sheepish grin, standing and following the med student to the back of the coffee shop. I glanced behind me. My muffin and milk hadn’t been touched, but Kate, the barista, didn’t seem to notice a thing.
In the restroom, I closed and locked the door behind me, doing my best to control my breathing. The student placed her backpack up on a counter and pulled her shirt up over her chest, revealing a pair of gorgeous olive breasts clad in a white bra.
As aroused as I was, my inquisitive mind pressed. “Do you… normally proposition strangers like this…?”
“Oh, sometimes. My breasts feel great rubbing against a big cock and… judging by the look of you,” her eyes shot down to my crotch, “you’ve got a really big one…”
Another instance of reality rippling to fit my statement. I’ll need to be careful… I thought, and didn’t get much further. The student unzipped my pants and fished my hardening cock out into the open air.
“Oh wow, I was right! You’re huge!” She gasped, giving my endowment a few testing strokes. It rose to its full potential quickly.
“Thanks… uh, you are too…” I gestured to her chest.
She giggled to that. “You’re cute, in a dorky way. Anyway, this’ll just take a moment. You can cum on my face if you want. I don’t have any make-up to ruin, so you’re good to pop whenever.”
I was stunned by how casually she was speaking, but then she wrapped her breasts, still clad in her bra, around my cock and my thoughts melted away. She rubbed her chest up and down my waist, my shaft trapped between her generous melons that, just moments ago, had been tiny little bee-stings. I could see her nipples poking firmly against her bra.
Perhaps what was more surprising than the sudden rush of pleasure rising and falling around my cock was the look of the girl’s face. She was totally blissed out! Her eyes were rolling back into her head, her hands, clutching my hips, were twitching, grasping for purchase as she lifted and lowered her body on trembling legs. She was getting off to rubbing her heavy breasts on a stranger’s big dick!
“Uh.. what’s your name…?” I mumbled bashfully.
“Sarah… yours?” Her voice was a breathy moan.
“John.”
“It’s nice to… mmmmmeat you… John…” She shifted a bit, leaning into me, pinning me back against the bathroom wall to better rub more of her chest against my crotch. “Oooh yeah… that’s what I need… almost there, just a little more…”
I licked my lips, watching that blissful face, before muttering, “Schism open… She’s not going to cum until I do…”
If she heard me, she made no indication of it. She kept riding my cock, moving her hands to her chest to jiggle her breasts against my length, bouncing them all the way up to the very tip where she focused her efforts.
That did me in. “I’m gunna…!” I choked on the last word, my new cock suddenly bursting with seed, long ropes of it shooting over her face and across the bathroom floor. They drooled into her white shirt and over her new curves, making a thick, creamy mess of the girl.
“Yes, do it!!” Sarah moaned, her body shaking, pinning herself against me. Her breasts heaved as she took deep, ragged breaths, clearly in the throes of climax herself.
We took a moment to breathe, to relax, to untangle. My cock slowly flagged and I managed to stuff it back into my pants. Sarah gave a happy sigh, a silly smile stuck on her face as she moved to the sink to clean off with water and paper towels.
“Uh, thanks for that,” I chuckled.
“Any time. I like you, John. Can I get your number?” She turned, her face still a half-mess with strings of seed stuck in her ponytail.
“Sure, of course.”
We exchanged numbers and I excused myself to return to my milk and muffin. Kate, to my relief, was completely ignorant of the situation. Sarah came out of the restroom a few minutes later, looking freshly clean save for a few wet spots on her shirt. She winked at me before marching out of the cafe with long strides.
I took a moment to reflect. “I had only said that she would proposition me, not that she would follow through with it. I had not specified that she’d done it before, or that she got pleasure from it… Those were all things that the ring inferred.” I sat back, feeling rather pleased with myself. “Wait… why am I worried about the barista finding out about us…? I could just… say that she never suspected anything, or that she wanted to join in or…” My brain reeled. The scope of the ability that I had was only now becoming apparent.
I needed to test more.
The chubby blonde barista was cleaning up the table where Sarah had been sitting. I began a new string, muttering under my breath and behind my phone.
“Schism open. This isn’t a coffee shop, it’s a Japanese maid cafe, and Kate is a twenty year-old Japanese girl in a sexy french maid uniform. She’s the only employee here right now and I’m the only customer.”
I blinked, and when I opened my eyes, a riot of color and sound came back to meet me. Gone were the earthy tones and fancy decorations of the coffee shop. In their place, bright pinks, whites, and baby blues. Streamers hung from the lamps and the large windows that looked out to the parking lot were covered by posters and paper to give the interior a sense of privacy. The menu was written in both English and Japanese, and featured pictures of brightly colored drinks and parfaits, pancakes decorated to look like cute animal faces, and cutesy cakes and cookies. The soft elevator music that had been playing a moment ago was replaced by a track from a Japanese idol group, their high pitched voices and pop tunes matching the brightly colored decor surprisingly well.
Kate was cleaning the same table that she’d been cleaning a moment before, but now she had changed drastically as well. Gone was the chubby barista. In her place, a short, slender Japanese girl with her black hair in a bob and her makeup done perfectly to make her brown eyes look large and her soft lips look pink and pouty. Her uniform was black and white, with tons of ruffles, a thick petticoat, and long white stockings leading to little black shoes. Her white apron featured an embroidered symbol on the front, the name of the store written in Japanese kanji.
She spotted my no-doubt dumbfounded look and pranced towards me. “Master, is everything ok? You look pale.” Her English was perfect, which in and of itself made me wonder what sort of ripples I’d made planting a Japanese maid cafe in the middle of the US.
“I’m fine, the muffin is…” I glanced down. The half-eaten muffin had transformed into a half-eaten short-stack of pancakes with strawberry syrup. “Er, I mean, the pancakes are great.”
“Hey, you don’t mind if I drop the act a little, do you? I mean, this is pretty embarrassing for me and you’re the only one here…” She smiled hopefully to me.
“Oh, yeah, no problem. Was there something you wanted to ask me?” I did my best to keep my head straight. I noticed that Kate’s nametag read ‘Kitty’ now.
“So, what’s the appeal of a place like this? I’m Japanese but I was raised here in America. I don’t really understand why this place attracts mostly guys.” She pulled up a chair to sit across from me, her petticoat poofing out comically in every direction.
“Er… I suppose it’s a lot of different things. I mean, cute girls for one. The illusion of having a cute maid to wait on you. If the roles were reversed and I was a butler serving you fancy tea, would you enjoy something like that?” I couldn’t help but smile. With a sentence, I could make it happen, but this was my fantasy, not hers.
Kate, or Kitty, thought about that a moment, “I guess so. But is it, like, a sexual thing?” She scrunched her face up as if she’d smelled something.
I coughed and laughed nervously, “I mean, nowadays everything can be sexualized… Why did you take the job, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Why does anyone take a job? And this place pays a lot for waitressing. I don’t have to worry about tips, the paycheck is actually nice on its own.”
Nodding sagely, I considered my next plan. Having a Japanese maid keeping me company in a cafe wasn’t going exactly as I’d anticipated it, but then that was the ring’s ripple effect in action, I supposed.
I didn’t give a single thought to the woman named ‘Kate’ that no longer existed.
“Hey, do me a favor. I’m going to say something, tell me if you can understand it, ok?” I smiled.
“I don’t actually know much Japanese, though…”
“It’s ok, just tell me if you’ve heard it before. Ready?” Kitty nodded. “Schism open. Her french maid outfit is pink and white instead of black and white.”
Before my eyes, it was so. The young Japanese girl looked even cuter in the bright pink and white outfit. She stared at me blankly. “Uh, are you going to say something? Or…”
“Ah, do you know what ‘goshuujin’ means?” I asked, confirming another ability of the ring. Statements that warp reality can’t be heard by others.
“No, what does it mean?”
“It’s the Japanese way of saying ‘Master’.” I grinned. “Schism open. Kitty is actually Kimiko. She’s native Japanese and is fluent in English, but still has a bit of an accent. She is my girlfriend,” I finished, my heart thumping in my chest.
Of note, I gained no memories to support the claim that Kate, then Kitty, then Kimiko was ever my girlfriend. She did, however, warm right up to me, a friendly smile on her face, shifting her seat to sit closer to me.
“Oh! Goshuujin-sama, I know this! You say it a little funny, so I didn’t understand at first,” she giggled. Her voice took a much higher pitch, though little else about her changed. “Hey John, I’m so glad you spend time with me here. It is sooooo boring. The manager is really dumb thinking this place will succeed in America.”
I couldn’t help but agree with her. But then, it was my own fault for saying I’d be the only customer here. Or was it my fault? A failing coffee shop was now a failing maid cafe. What was the difference in the grand scheme of things?
“When do you get off of work, Kimiko?” I asked at last.
“When it closes at six. I’ll come by your place after, okay?”
I nodded and stood. She dutifully cleaned the table and gave me a kiss on the cheek before I left to head back home.
My head was swimming even as I entered my apartment. I noticed that a few things had changed. Trappings of relationship status appeared here and there. A pink toothbrush in my bathroom cup, a dresser dedicated to Kimiko’s clothes, as well as a portion of my closet. I investigated each thing and frowned. I didn’t remember Kimiko ever putting those things there.
“I suppose I could simply say that I do remember, but what if that changes my brain in a way that I can’t predict? I know that ripple effects don’t affect me, but this is memories and brain waves we’re talking about…” I sat on the edge of my bed and gave it a though, staring at the ring the whole time.
“But then, I don’t really need to have those memories, do I? If I fuck up, I can simply overwrite it…” A grin spread across my face. “I’m… a god with this. I can do anything.” My gaze turned to my bookshelf, a selection of Japanese comics and other sci-fi and fantasy books all lined in a row. I zeroed in on one in particular. It was a book of monster girls, a dictionary of them. Hundreds of scantily clad, anime-style monsters, smiling coyly, beside a short explanation of their behaviors and abilities. Vampires and succubi, of course, as well as stranger creatures, like manticores and yuki-onna.
Any of them could exist with the rings power… or could they? “These are fictional beings. Everything up to this point that I’ve brought into this world or changed has existed. Can the ring make fiction into reality?”
With this new conundrum to ponder, I paced my apartment to consider something fictional that I could bring into being that wouldn’t tear the world apart. Laser swords? No, that might advance technology beyond my own understanding and put me into the middle of a war with an evil empire… Magic wands? I’m not comfortable with the idea of secret wizards living among us… If I brought one of these monster girls into being, wouldn’t that ripple into the world to create them as a race living alongside human kind?
Flipping through the promiscuous dictionary, I tried to consider a monster that there might only be one of, and that wouldn’t be very dangerous.
“Wait, duh… I can just specify that they’re the only one in existence or something…” I rubbed my face. My overthinking was getting in the way of my new godlike power!
My finger stopped on a page in the dictionary. Dark Elves, a race of lovely, tan-skinned elves with pointy ears, green eyes, and silver hair. Tall, graceful, and, as the image showed, incredibly curvy. Most importantly, no wild abilities or features that would get out of hand right away, like the dragons or slime girls in the dictionary.
I took a deep breath, gathered my thoughts, and began.
“Schism open. There is a dark elf woman that lives in my apartment with me. She is the only one of her kind and has pledged herself to me. She loves me and endeavors to bring me pleasure.” By the time the last word left my mouth, they had already become true.
Standing before me was a tall, slender woman, just as was described in the book. Her long, pointed ears framed her face beautifully, her wavy silver hair cascading down her shoulders like a shimmering waterfall under the moonlight. Her bright eyes shone like emeralds, and they were locked onto me with adoration. She wore nothing but an apron, though her fingernails, toenails, and lips were painted scarlet and her eyes done up with mascara. She curtsied, lifting the apron just enough to flash a perfectly clean crotch. Her breasts bounced to either side of the apron, probably C-cups, capped with dark nipples.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Master?” Her voice was musical!
Stunned that I had created this new life out of the power of my words, I simply stared at her. Her existence confirmed what I had wondered. I could bring even fictional things into being.
The elf smiled, her slender brow knitting in confusion. She reached forward and placed a gentle hand upon my forehead. “Are you alright? You look so pale. Is everything ok with you and Kimiko?”
In my eagerness to test, I had set aside thoughts of Kimiko. I had two women to worry about. Or, rather, I had two women that could be anything I wanted. I could make a dozen women… a hundred women. I could be the king of all women. This whole planet could be nothing BUT women! Sexy women worshipping me day and night, caring for my every need! My head spun.
Before I knew it, I blacked out.