He's Got to Survive the Week First

“Alright. I think I’ve edited it down to a proper few wishes,” Ernest declared.

“Down?”

“Everything you want is in there, I just figure you don’t want another like... dozen wishes experienced one after the other. And you know, other details... like you said ‘all’ your doors in your house, but I figure you mean like the outside-facing doors, gates and such.”

“O-Oh... sure...”

Jessica looked away. She had resigned to sitting on the far edge of the tub while continuing to hide her nipples and crotch with trembling hands. The night had left her exhausted, and she wondered if she’d even make it to 3:00AM before knocking out. Ernest had gone through her wishlist for two minutes now, but she felt ready to pass out, give up, and sleep in his bed, cuddling-

Pull yourself together, Jessica!

“Alright then! Ahem... I wish for another time-out that only stopped once I felt like it!”

“W-Wait,” Jessica stammered in alarm; she couldn’t confirm what he did or didn’t grant if he... was not there. Why was she-

I wish Jessica was back in her home, which was secure, clean, and vacant in just the way Jessica wants, and that she was in her bath, naked and ready to shower, while her party clothes were clean and in her closet and her costume just vanished. I wish her party was a huge success, that everyone already left happy and safe and satisfied, and that Kevin had never been to the party because he’s in the middle of a lice infection that’s bad enough to keep him from school. I wish that last wish didn’t hurt or infect anyone but Kevin. I wish that Jessica and I could both willingly fall asleep whenever we wanted and it didn’t matter how much sleep we got because we would always be perfectly well-rested when we woke up. I wish Jessica and I were both immune to all sicknesses, diseases, and poisons, and also that we were cured of any of those we presently suffer. I wish we both had basically perfect metabolisms in the sense that we can eat and drink anything and still have whatever bodies we want, never feel pain from hunger or thirst, and have our staminas be four times as great as they are now. I wish we didn’t suffer any muscle or skeletal pains that weren’t necessary to warn us of serious danger or injury. I wish Jessica got straight A’s in all her high school math tests, had bloodless and painless periods, and had my phone number saved on her phone.

That very last bit would’ve been cute if Jessica wasn’t slamming her whole body into the tiled back of her glass-enclosed bathtub and shower. She whimpered and squealed and her hands gripped the safety rails as she felt the rapid kicks of arousal build up into a single, scream-inducing orgasm, sending her thighs trembling as her vagina marked the tub floor like a dog. An audible, steady stream of dripping from her strained crotch was the first thing she realized when she finally came to. The otherwise silent, clean house was all she heard from beyond the bathroom walls.

Her eyes looked about as if expecting some terrible betrayal. Did it work? Did she get everything she had hoped for...? She tried to recall what he even wished for. She also had to make sure to text him to never wish like that again.

Presuming, of course, she didn’t manage to lose his cooperation by then... or him by then.

Jessica leapt from her bathroom, uncaring for her need for a bath or her total nudity; that these parts of the wishes she wanted—the costume being gone, her house being quiet—were granted made her slowly confident that the rest followed. And so they seemed to: her cute outfit was in the closet and ready for another day. A glance outside of her bedroom door revealed no party flyers or guests, no dirty floors, and no empty beer cans stuffed into corners of the hallway.

She ran back into her room, not bold enough to investigate the house while remaining naked, and locked her bedroom and bathroom doors as she leapt for the shower. She would take a quick, much-needed cleansing, and finally get some... rest? Jessica looked down at herself. If she was being honest, she felt pretty good, actually. She had been on the verge of dozing off at Master’s, but now she felt she could easily last-

Master.

Jessica refocused herself as she turned on the shower. The weekend meeting would probably happen; for now, she had no way that she could see of getting out of it. But aside from school life (whatever that looked like, now that she had these newfound gifts and comforts), Jessica was prepared to put every bit of her energy into getting that ring back and being free of Ernest. Her right index finger daintily probed her labia which, despite the night's events, had suddenly eager for to even more action. She trembled at the thought of Ernest, of getting rid of him... of trying and failing... of being his-

No! Well, maybe just... as a fantasy. Sure, she bargained with herself, that's not counterproductive at all. A girl has needs, that's all; she would do this now... and maybe later... but she would definitely be rid of Ernest. She wasn’t going to keep him around... even as she wondered what kind of cock he had. She hated that he put her in this position, after all! She should punish him the moment she gets the chance...

She unhooked her showerhead and extended her bath to nearly an hour of thinking of no one else but that damned, no-good, presumably big-dicked Ernest Redmond.

Meanwhile, back at Ernest's home...

Ernest had always been a lanky kid... and his absence of consciousness about that look meant that it didn't suddenly change just because he wished for the ability to do so. As far as he could tell, nothing changed about him... except that he didn't even have the hints of fatigue from earlier. Time had resumed anew on command, Jessica was gone, and all that remained of her presence was a few cold, fem-spunk stains on his bathtub and bathroom rug. He had nearly wished them away when he remembered his promise to Jessica... and the reward he would get.

A lunch with one of the most popular girls in school... and the same girl who was making his every wish literally come true. Well, every wish he made; even now he started to think of new ones, but... well, the weekend wasn't too far off. If he was truly all-powerful now, what was one more school week?

For now, rinsing the tub with splashes of water and tossing the bathroom rug into the hallway closet-stashed washing machine was the best "magical cleaning" he could manage. The bathroom rug fell into the depths of the machine alone and, with a vibrating thud, the machine's lid slammed down to secure its fresh load. He flinched at the noise; it was almost midnight... but then again, he was making this noise, right? His family would sleep through even-

A door swung open behind him. A brown blur, low, small, and terrified, bolted out to flee into the living room. "Ernest?!"

Sleep soundly. Not sleep through just anything... and not sleep through a certain cat squatting on one's chest only to leap in a flurry of claws from that perch at the thundering close of a washing machine. Sleep soundly and ignore... A connected statement; he had meant for them to ignore him and Jessica for as long as they were asleep. Sleeping soundly seemed safe at the time. He obviously didn’t want to be unheard once they were awake. That had seemed enough.

He hadn't accounted for Rocky, their ornery scaredy-cat and frequent resident of Clarissa's bedroom. Rocky had not been included in the wish and thus was primed to do what Ernest couldn't: stab his sister awake with tiny, ferocious paws.

"What the Hell are you doing?" she hissed, clearly more concerned with waking the other half of the residents than Ernest was. Ernest, stunned as he tried to make sense of how she woke up, looked her in the eye... and tried not to grin. Clarissa was Ernest's senior by only a year, but she always showed more concern with appearances: her hair, usually worn in ringlets, was a wrinkled, curly mess of crimson-to-orange that stuck out from her head in absurd angles. He couldn't see her too well, but he knew she was wearing a pink, spaghetti-strap nightie of thin cotton; it was her favorite sort of pajamas, such that she owned five of them in varying shades of pink. Despite her toned, lithe build—something they both got from dad—her breasts were clearly inherited from mom: perky and large, they promised to be pendulous and clutch-feeding when she grew older--

Whoa, Ernest, you've clearly been oversexed tonight... without actually getting to have sex, he noted sarcastically. But it was true: as crazy and wonderful and magical and promising as the whole affair had been... Jessica's nude body and dripping sex filled his mind. After cleaning the bathtub, it filled his nose with the memory of her scent as well; he was eager for the week to pass.

Maybe too eager, if it left him ogling his sister's impressive knockers, and so he was grateful for the dark. "Sorry, Clarissa," he humbly whispered, "I just need to get some laundry done ASAP-"

"Then do it tomorrow morning!" she hissed. "You nearly scared a life off of Rocky," she added with just a hint of mirth.

It was hard to really anger Clarissa: she remained his playful companion even into adulthood. Thinking on it, he recalled the years of growing up, of puberty... and of looking at his sisters in the way that the very rare, very occasional, horny, and porn-misguided brother might. Of course, he never acted on it; he knew it was wrong, and he made sure everyone who jested about such a concept knew his disgust. But it was hard to not find his sister especially attractive... and harder to make sure she never found out. At least, he was sure she never found out.

"Well get to bed-" she began to urge as she went to shove him down the hall.

She touched his bare arm to push her.

A sharp inhale. Her eyes closing for a moment. Her fingers splaying out to rub his forearm. She swallowed audibly.

"S... Sis?"

"Y... Yeah?" she almost... moaned? It was a whisper, surely.

"Are you alright?"