Whether they want to admit it or not, everyone has a fetish. I have one, you have one, the cute and wholesome little girl down the street has one, Fetishes get a bad rap because some of them are really weird and sometimes even hazardous to one's health (like drinking pee or eating poop), but really, a fetish can be anything at all, jiust so long as it makes your heart pitter patter and your crotch get moist. If you like hunky men in tight bicycle shorts, I hate to tell you, but that's a fetish. If girls in heels is your thing, you, my friend, have a fetish. Fetishes don't have to be strange and disgusting, a fetish can be anything. Therefore, we all have one, even if we don't think we do.

Everyone except for people who are "ace".

Ace is street slang for "asexual." That is, someone who doesn't feel any form of sexual desire whatsoever. There are lots of people out there who aren't attracted to anyone and who don't feel the pangs of lust to which most of us are subject. They are a small minority, however, as a libido is pretty much standard issue on most human beings. If we didn't evolve to be horny toads, the fragile flame of life would have snuffed out long ago. See, dealing with the opposite sex - or the same sex, if you swing that way - is difficult. Matters of the heart are messy and if you didn't have that biological urge pushing you on, you'd probably decide that sex and romance aren't worth the aggrevation and remove yourself from the dating pool. If everyone did that, the population numbers would crash and everyone would be miserable.

God, or evolution, realized this, so here we are, inborn with kinks, fetishes, and desires that all but ensure we'll go out of our way to procreate.

Think about the lengths people go to when it comes to love and sex. Think about all the things people will do and put up with to get one or both of those things. When the flames of passion start to lick their bodies, they will sacrifice pride, honor, money, and even their dignity to get it. They'll stay with a man or woman who treats them poorly. They'll walk ten miles in the rain just to get some action. They'll let their partner drain their bank accounts. They'll endure mental, physical, and emotional abuse. Basically, people will out of their way to get love and sex because human beings are inherently programmed to want, and need, both of those things.

People treat sex like a four letter word but the last time Haiku checked, it only had three letters. Everyone does it, everyone wants it, everyone needs it. Why people got so scandalized about it didn'r make any sense to her. She wasn't saying that everyone should be, like, immodest or a hedonist or anything, but sex is the most normal and nature thing in the world, right along with pooping and childbirth. Why be so uptight about it? That would be like getting weird about hunger or something. It's something we all experience often, so why do we insist on treating it like a bunch of little schoolgirls giggling over the word titmouse?

Admittedly, titmouse is an amusing word, but that wasn't the point. People and their hang ups about even mentioning sex was dumb and immature. I mean, just look at movie ratings. You can have someone like John Wick or Vin Diesel kill a million people in a movie and the censors will be like "Yep, this is fine for kids to watch." Show one little boob, though, and the next thing you know, it's got an NC-17 rating.

It didn't make much sense but in her eleven years of life, Haiku had come to realize that a lot of things don't make sense. The world was a strange and contradictory place and as you got older, you had to learn how to navigate it. She had not yet learned all the ins and outs but she figured that she would in time. It would come to her eventually, for right now, she had other things to worry about.

Like her fetish.

Haiku, like anyone else, had one little thing that got her going more than anything else, a kink to which her mind (and pussy) inevitably drifted. Now, even though most fetishes were secretly vanilla and commonplace, hers was…not. It wasn't disgusting like eating puke or sucking dirty toes, but it was odd by most standards.

When she was eight, Haiku read a fanfiction online where a shy, awkward goth girl - much like Haiku herself - had a huge crush on the cutest boy in school, who happened to be the captain of the football team (or maybe it was the basketball team). She had it bad for this guy. Over the course of 90 chapters and 450,000 words, she masturbated to him about a hundred times, even going so far as to sneak into the boys locker room and pleasure herself while sniffing his jockstrap. She pine for him from afar over the course of 50 chapters, wishing he'd sweep her off her feet like and feeling sorry for herself because he didn't even know she existed.

It was a good story but Haiku got the feeling that the author had no idea where she was going with it. It read like a slice of life oneshot collection built around a central but loosely connected theme, not like a single, cohesive story at all.

Then the mind control came into play.

A lot of fan fiction writers start a story and then lose direction if they had any direction in the first place. Some of them realize this, fall into despair, and stop writing. Others come up with plot developments straight out of left field in an attempt to salvage it. The author of the jock-sniffing-goth-girl was one of the latter. Around chapter 55, the goth girl met a blind witch who sympathized with her status as an outcast. The witch taught her how to use mind control to get the things she wanted from life, and of course, the girl used it to hypnotize the jock. There were dozens of passages describing her increasingly perverse actions while he was under her spell. In one scene, she made him lay naked on her bed, and then spent the next "twelve hours" touching stroking, kissing, and sucking his body. She was always panting and shaking and grunting like a "primal cavewoman."

The MC was such a little pervert and to be honest…Haiku found it hot as frick. The idea of having someone at her mercy, just laying there and unable to do anything but passively allow her to unleash all her lust on them, was extremely hot, and as she read that story, Haiku could feel a ew fetish forming in the depths of her loins. She realized that the fan fiction author (whose name she could not remember) had transferred her fetish onto her like a nasty infection. Before, she was a fairly wholesome little girl who had the normal little girl fantasies about cute boys and beds of roses. Black roses of course, seeing as how she was something of a goth, but roses nonetheless. After reading the story, she had a fetish for mind control and submission, both submitting to someone else and making someone else submit to her, the latter more than the former. She wanted to be the one in control, the one kissing and sucking and fucking a prone body, using someone for her ultimate pleasure.

Putting that into so many words made her sound like a horrible, selfish human being who wanted to use and take advantage of people, but that wasn't the case. Her second biggest kink was the idea of pleasuring someone else, of making them feel so good that they shook and moaned and came within minutes. She was also attracted to the concept of intimacy. You know, being tender and cuddling and junk. Those things just happened to take a back seat to mind control and hypnosis.

Haiku realized that her kink was strange and probably impossible to actually indulge in. She believed somewhat in hypnosis but it was one of those gray areas where truth and fiction clump tpgethjer and are difficult to separate. She had read a great deal and studied the subject intensely, but she was no closer to truly understanding it than she had been when she first started her long and strange journey years ago. There were many noted cases of hypnosis and mind control in the annals of parapsychology, but hypnotizing someone wasn't a thing you could just do. Some doctors and psychologists could apparently do it, but they were the exception, not the rule. Trust her, she knew, she had tried a thousand times to hypnotize people. It took training and years of practice, she read, and wasn't the kind of thing anybody could just snap their fingers and do. She was certain in her heart that there was a method to accomplish the desired effect, but she hadn't found it.

She thought of herself as an agnostic who really, really wanted to believe. She did know if she did and in her darker moments, she despaired because it seemed impossible. Sometimes she felt sorry for herself over having a kink that was probably a pipe dream. Why couldn't she be into feet or heels or something commonplace? Why did her fetish have to be so…obscure? If she liked butts, she could indulge herself all she wanted. But nooooo. She had to like something that, let's face it, might not even be real.

Was she doomed to masturbate to unobtainable fantasies forever? Would she have to make do with play acting with a sex partner who was only "pretending" to be hypnotized? From where she stood, it sure looked like it. Who would even be okay with a fetish like that? A lot of people are blind to how, ahem, extra their fetishes are because they've excused, justified, and normalized them, but Haiku was able to take a step back and look at things objectively. A normie would probably find her fetish creepy and not want to indulge it with her, To be honest, she couldn't blame them if they felt that way. It did come off as kind of creepy. It was one of those things that's all too easy to misunderstand. There were a lot of fetishes like that, she reflected, mainly the ones built on taboos. For instance, if a guy wanted to roleplay this his girlfriend is his sister, that doesn't mean that he wants to actually screw his flesh and blood sister, or that he's some kind of incest loving pervert. Sure, he could be, but he might also be attracted to the thrill of breaking one of society's deepest held taboos. Even though someone like Haiku - a pervert herself - understood that, a lot of people couldn't. They'd automatically think he wanted to be with his actual sister. Likewise, most people would think that she was a power hungry rapist who got off on victimizing people.

Because she didn't feel like being misunderstood more than she already was - as a mopy suburban goth, no one "got" her - she decided to keep her kink to herself. Which wasn't hard, since she wasn't in the habit of discussing her sexual proclivities with her friends. She was treasurer of the Young Morticians' Club and hung out at a coffeehouse downtown on open mic nights, so she wasn't friendless. In fact, there were a few people she was kind of close with, like Lucy Loud. Haiku liked Lucy and counted her as a close friend. Even so, there are some things that you don't really talk about with your friends, no matter how close you are, and in Haiku's opinion, sex was one of them.

Yeah, it was funny, huh? Some pervert she was. She had this huge fetish (multiple fetishes, actually) yet she was too shy to talk about them with someone else.

Well, not with someone else. You see, it's perfectly fine - natural and expected, even - to discuss those things with your partner. Not with just anyone. Like…do you wanna hear how much your sister loves doing butt stuff? Do you wanna know that your Grandma loves 69? No? Alright then.

One day, she decided, she would open up about her fetishes to the right person. Until she found them, she would keep her cards close to her chest.

One day came over the summer between fourth and fifth grade. It was a blazingly hot afternoon in early August and she was out for a walk in the park, carrying an umbrella to keep the pounding sun off of her. She was following a concrete walkway edging a duck pond choked with bright green lilypads and clusters of floating pink flowers. A hot wind caressed her face, and her mind wandered in the lazy way of someone with nothing to do and all day to do it. She was vaguely aware of other people, their presence denoted by distant laughter and squeals of delight, but she wasn't paying attention to them. She was an introvert by nature and was more than happy to go about in her own little world.

Her inward mindframe didn't always serve her well. That day, she was so stuck up her own butt that she didn't see disaster coming until it struck. Had she been paying attention, she may have noticed the dark shape blotting out the sun, may have felt the rising wind of approaching doom, may have had time to brace for what horrors were about to come. At the last minute, she sensed that something was wrong and turned her head just as a football swelled and filled the world like an onrushing asteroid. Her heart rocketed into her throat and she opened her mouth to scream, but she didn't have the time. The ball struck her square between the eyes. In slow motion, her head rocked backwards and she let out a long, pained moan. Spittle flew from her lips and her spine snapped straight and rigid even as her knees weakened and ultimately gave out.

Haiku twisted around like her name was Chubby Checker and fell to the ground. The camera panned jerkily back and the word WASTED appeared on the screen in stylized gothic lettering.

"Oh, my God!" a horrified bystander cried.

Dizzy and feeling like she was going to topple over like an alcoholic so drunk that she could barely sit up, Haiku, well, sat up. She rubbed the side of her head.

"Are you okay?"

Girl Jordan, the French braided jock of the class, stood over her in a yellow T-shirt and blue shorts, her knobby knees pressed together and a look of worry on her face. It was the expression of a girl who had just inadvertently murdered someone and knew in her heart that she'd wind up spending the rest of her life in prison because of it.

"I'm fine," Haiku said. She tried to get up but a spell of vertigo crashed over her.

Jordan helped her to her feet. Haiku staggered a little and Jordan reached out to grab her. "Yeah, let's get you to a bench."

She led Haiku to the nearest bench and sat. "I'm so sorry," Jordan said, "I really didn't mean to drill you in the head like that. I guess I wasn't watching what I was doing." She gave a sheepish smile that was all teeth and nerves. "I usually don't do that. For the most part, I have great aim." She seemed to swell with pride, and a bright beam crept into her face.

Jordan was…how do I put this?...kind of a braggart. She thought she the best player at every sport to ever exist. She was never condescending or overbearing about it, she just took it as a matter of course that she was the Best with a capital B. She was also gregarious and outgoing, and even though Haiku was the complete opposite (and perfectly happy with that), she couldn't help liking Jordan.

"It's fine," Haiku said.

"You sure? You got kind of a knot on your head." Jordan leaned in and brushed her fingertips over a welt on Hakiu's forehead. Haiku sucked a sharp breath and Jordan yanked her hand back as though she had just touched a hot stove. "Sorry," she said. "You want some ice or something?"

"No, I'm fine, honest," Haiku said.

She got up and started walking away. Jordan stood up and called after her. "At least let me buy you lunch."

Haiku's stomach rumbled and she came to a shuffling stop. She turned slowly around and cocked her head in thought. Jordan flashed another cute, nervous smile, and that - combined with being genuinely hungry - decided her. "Sure," Haiku said, "I can eat."

They wound up at the Cluckin' Bell on High Street, where the chicken was fried, processed, and probably not really chicken at all. The floors were sticky and littered with discarded cups, napkins, and boxes, and there was a strange and vaguely rotten smell in the air. They sat at a table by a plateglass window overlooking the drive-thru and feasted on chicken, fries, nachos, and tater tots. Being mid afternoon in the middle of the week, the place was largely empty and they could clearly hear every sound from the kitchen: Hissing grills, clattering pans, and the piss-whine-moan of the workers who couldn't understand why they had to work for a living.

As they ate, Haiku noticed a flash of silver around Jordan's neck and asked, by way of conversation, what it was. Hesitating a little, Jordan reached into her shirt and pulled out the business end of a medallion.

It was a pentagram.

Haiku blinked in surprise. "Oh. I didn't think you were into…" she trailed off, not knowing how to finish. The pentagram is a versatile symbol that can mean a lot of things, from devil worship to paganism. Most likely, she wore it only because it looked "cool." Which was the reason most people wore them and other symbols.

"Wicca," Jordan said. "I'm totally a witch."

"Wat."

Jordan blushed a little and looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, I don't tell a lot of people. I don't feel like getting stared at like I'm crazy."

Of all the people on earth, Jordan was the last one Haiku would have suspected of dabbling in witchcraft. Haiku had read much on the topic and was deeply fascinated by it. She excitedly pumped Jordan for information, and they spent the next two hours talking in low tones. The lunch rush came and went, and then the dinner crowd. At first, Haiku couldn't help but think Jordan was a poser. How could just a seemingly wholesome, all-American girl be Wiccan? She had always struck Haiku as your typical suburban WASP with bland, meat and potatoes interests. The kind of girl who went to church on Sundays, like the latest Top 40 build-a-song pop music, and didn't think too deeply. Listening to her speak, and seeing the evident passion in her eyes, however, she was convinced: Despite Haiku's preconceived notions, Jordan was the real deal.

Wow.

Haiku had to admit, she was impressed. She remembered that old saying about not judging a book by its cover and chuckled to herself. She didn't believe in judging people before she knew them, of course, but the whole point of a book cover is, often, to give you an idea of what's inside. Go grab a Stephen King book off the nearest shelf and look at the cover. It'll likely scream HORROR NOVEL. Find a John Grisham book and tell me the cover doesn't just ooze LEGAL THRILLER. You can't say whether or not a book is good just by looking at it, but you can usually tell kind of what it is. That was the rule…but there are exceptions to every rule. She found Jordan to be none of the things she had assumed her to be.

Well, except for kind of an egotist. Several times during their chat, she said, "Well, no one's perfect…except me, of course." Each time, she did this thing where she cocked her head, stuck out her tongue like a dog poking its head out of a car window, and made a V with her index and middle fingers. It was both retarded and kind of endearing.

At the end of their meeting, they left Cluckin' Bell and made their way back toward the park. Jordan lived in a two story split level on the park's western edge. From her front step, you could see the playground and the corner of the forest separating it from the baseball diamond. They went to Jordan's room and sat on her bed. Jordan brought out a bunch of Wicca stuff, including a leather bound book of spells, rituals, and seances. She proudly showed all of these to Haiku, evidently pleased to have someone with whom she could finally share her secret self. Haiku wanted to see what a "Wiccan Mass" (as Jordan called it) looked like, and Jordan obliged her. They both donned black clothes, knelt in the center of a pentagram on the floor, and lit candles. They prayed and chanted to Mother Nature, then stripped naked and drank from a special wooden chalice.

Later on, Haiku would not be able to tell exactly how their ritual turned into full-blown almost sex, but somehow, they wound up in Jordan's bed, kissing and fingering each other under the covers. Haiku had always known that she was a little bi, but she considered herself more straight than anything else. To her, boys were the main course. Girls were a side dish that she could do without. After her sweaty, grunting, animalistic encounter with Jordan, however, she came to believe that it was quite the opposite: Girls were her main focus, guys were just a side interest.

After they both came, they lay beside each other, panting and slathered in sweat, the blanket pulled up to their breasts. The heat they had made together was both pleasant and intense, and Haiku didn't know if she wanted to stay and bask in it forever or go outside and let the cool air blow against her fevered body. The sun had begun to set during their tryst, and soft purple afterglow filled the room like ink. Haiku was sticky with a mixture of hers and Jordan's natural lubrication and the taste of Jordan's mouth lingered on her lips. She rolled the taste over her tongue and tried to decide whether she liked it or not.

"So this is what being a Wiccan is all about," Haiku stated.

"Pretty much," Jordan agreed. "Usually, I do this outside. In nature."

"Do you do…this…often?" Haiku asked.

Picking instantly up on her meaning, Jordan shrugged one shoulder. "Not really the sex part so much. I used to be in a coven and we'd do it but then I moved here and haven't had anyone to do it with." She rolled onto her side and looked at Haiku, a look of excitement settling over her features."Hey, do you want to start a new coven with me?"

Haiku had to admit, the prospect of becoming Wiccan and starting a coven of witches was pretty cool, but the deciding factor here was Jordan. Haiku really liked what she and Jordan had just done and realy wanted to do it again.

It would be a lie to say that she didn't consider the fact that she could get Jordan to play along with her fantasy of mind control and hypnotism. They could have sort of a "you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours" arrangement. Sure, I'll get naked and have girl sex with you in a meadow after praying to the great god Pan, but you have to pretend to be hypnotized and let me do whatever I want to you afterwards, okay?

She looked at Jordan's pleading expression and a slight, wicked grin curved across Haiku's thin lips. "Okay, but you have to know something about me first."

"What?" Jordan asked.

"I have this weird…kink, and I want you to help me with it."

A look of relief crossed Jordan's face. "That's all? No problem. What is it?"

Haiku took a deep breath. She planned to share her fetish one day, but somehow she never thought that "one day" would come so soon. She imagined that it would take years for her to find the right person to share her strange desires with, and now that it was here - much, much sooner than expected - she was reluctant to actually speak it aloud. "Well," she sat at long last, "it involves hypnotism."

Jordan scrunched her lips in thought. "Hypnotism, huh?"

"Yeah," Haiku said, then quickly added, "I know it's kind of strange, but -"

"No, it sounds fun," Jordan said, cutting her off, "in fact, I've read a little about hypnotism. There's a Wiccan way to do it that I've been wanting to try out."

That piqued Haiku's interest. "A Wiccan way?"

"Yep," Jordan said, "we can try it out. We -"

Just then, Haiku's phone chimed. She grabbed it from the nightstand, brushed her black hair out of her eyes, and swiped her thumb across the screen. It was a text from her mom asking where she was and telling her to come home. "Darn it," she hissed softly, "I have to go."

"Alright," Jordan said. "Give me your number and I'll text you."

Haiku gave Jordan her number and then left, hurrying ahead of the streetlights, which seemed to wink on just as she passed as if by magic.

The next day, they met up at a secluded area in the park surrounded by tall pine trees screened by dense undergrowth. Birds called from the lush boughs and the low babble of a nearby creek scented the humid air. It was hot and overcast, and within minutes of being outside, Haiku was drenched in sweat. Jordan drew a pentagram on the ground using salt, and then placed a candle at every point, cupping her hand to light them even though there was not even a faint breath of a breeze. When the candles were flickering with light, Jordan stood up, quickly crossed her arms over her chest in an X, and peeled off her shirt, tossing it aside. Her breasts were tiny but firm, her nipples hard and ringed with gooseflesh. She hooked her thumbs into her shorts and pushed them down, swaying side to side as she did so,. In her clothes, she had the shapeless form of a ten year old boy, but underneath, she had all the curves and ridges of a woman,

Following her example, Haiku stripped down too, tossing her dress and panties - she wore no bra - onto a moss covered rock jutting from the sea of dead leaves littering the fluffy grass surrounding the meadow. "How does this work?" Haiku asked.

"You'll see," Jordan said. She reached into a yellow backpack with the Nike symbol across the back in purple (JUST DO IT) and pulled out the leather bound book she had showed Haiku the night before. She had Haiku lay in the middle of the pentagram with her arms at her sides and her back perfectly straight, then knelt beside her. She opened the book and flipped through the pages. "Let's see, let's see, where is it?" she asked herself, her voice low and distracted. She paged back and forth, back and forth, the rustle of old paper producing a crisp and aromatic sound. Haiku studied the sky, amusing herself by finding shapes in the clouds, then, when she got bored of that, she shot Jordan a dirty look. "Some time today?"

"I'm looking for it," Jordan said defensively. Then: "Oh, here it is. Heh, the pages were stuck together." She chuckled to herself and shook her head. "Anyway, let's get this party started."

She had Haiku close her eyes and chanted a series of words in Latin while she read from the book in a mixture of Gaelic and German. Haiku visualized a peaceful, sunlit meadow much like the one they were currently in. That was part of the ritual, to picture a nice, tranquil place in your head. Haiku focused all of her attention on the scene and soon Jordan's voice faded away. Haiku felt herself beginning to float, as though she were on the surface of a calm sea, waves gently lapping her. She seemed to rise up, out of her body, and levitate there, as light and airy as a cloud. A warm, fuzzy sensation spread through her, much like being swaddled in a warm woolen blanket, and she took a deep, shivery breath, then let it out slowly. She was not a tightly wound person, she was what you might call "laid back" even though that term, for some reason, grated on her nerves, but never in her young life had she known such inner peace. She had heard of Near Eastern mystics achieving nirvana, the ultimate state of tranquility, and had often wondered just exactly what nirvana was like. Now, she was confident that she knew. It was like being free, totally free, of every little worry, ache, pain, and trouble. It was like being free from your mortal coil, it was like…like…nothing she had ever experienced before or would, she imagined, ever experience again.

Soon, she was so relaxed that she fell into a deep, black slumber from which nothing could rouse her. She saw nothing, heard nothing, had no dreams or visions, no inkling whatsoever that she was even alive anymore. Her brain might as well have been switched completely off, her circulatory system suppressed, her mind and consciousness gone, out to lunch, never to return.

Slowly, however, it did come back, and the light of day crept through the nightland of her mind like the spreading illumination of the coming dawn. Sounds and sensations began to creep back in, and she crinkled her brow. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened, the indirect light of the sun stinging her orbs.

The first thing she realized was that she was no longer lying down, but was standing. The second was that a strange taste filled her mouth. Jordan was standing in front of her, the book open in her hands and a sly grin on her face. Haiku looked around, confused. "What happened?" she asked. "Did it work?"

"Oh, yeah," Jordan said.

"Really?" Haiku asked, excitement beginning to blossom in her breast.

Jordan explained that Haiku had been under hypnosis - true, honest to God hypnosis - for roughly half an hour. She had given Haiku a series of orders and Haiku had fulfilled each and every one of them with the utter and unflinching obedience of a marionette on a string. Haiku smacked her lips together and frowned at the bizarre taste. "What did I eat?"

A wicked light danced in Haiku's eyes. "My ass."

"Really?" Haiku asked, the corners of her mouth turning up in a Chesire cat smile. So Jordan made her eat her ass while she was under hypnosis and there was nothing she could do about it but obey, huh?

That was fucking hot.

Over the next couple of weeks, Jordan and Haiku practiced putting each other under hypnosis. The very next time, they switched spots, with Jordan taking on the passive role and Haiku the active one - Haiku couldn't help thinking of the passive role as "the victim." Instead of going to their meadow in the park, they did it in Jordan's basement, which her parents had converted into a thickly carpeted rumpus room with a pool table, pinball machines, and a home theater system that, Jordan boasted, was the envy of all her dad's friends. Jordan's parents were out on the town for the evening - their weekly date night - and Haiku and Jordan had free run of the house. They popped some popcorn, grabbed a couple cans of Diet Pepsi, and went down the basement stairs in nothing but socks and underwear.

Jordan stretched out on the floor, naked, and Haiku knelt over her with the book. They repeated the ritual, and when Haiku looked up from the page, Jordan was gazing up at the ceiling with wide, unseeing eyes. Haiku's heartbeat sped up and she waved her hand in front of her girlfriend's face.

Nothing. Jordan made no sign that she had seen, no sign that she was even alive. Though her color was good and shallow exhalations puffed from her pink lip, she looked dead.

Haiku was suddenly giddy.

Setting the book aside, Haiku laid her hands on Jordan's stomach and caressed them in opposite directions, grazing them over the soft mounds of her small tits and her hairless pussy, She brushed her thumb over Jordan's rigid nipple and dipped her other hand between Jordan's thighs. Her pussy lips were warm and silky, the heat rising from her sickeningly hot, fevered, delightful. The little jock did not move, did not flinch, as Haiku explored her body. Haiku pried her lower lips apart and sank one finger into her, and she seemed to be none the wiser. The excitement of having a hypnotized body before her excited Haiku to no end. She began to shake and pant heavily like an animal in heat. She started to rub Jordan's pussy, and in moments, it was slick with Jordan's natural lubrication. She pinched and tweaked Jordan's nipple and the only visible reaction from the jock was a deep blush across her face.

The fact that Jordan felt passion even in her current state of suspended animation was enough to break Haiku's willpower. She mounted the supine girl, bent, and kissed her frozen lips, squirming her tongue between them and forcing it into her mouth. She cupped Jordan's face in her hands and kissed her deeply, her hips mindlessly rocking. Their wet cores rubbed together and their nipples grazed one another. Haiku broke the kiss, sucked a deep, shivery gasp, and attacked Jordan's face and the side of her throat with her lips. She threaded her fingers through Jordan's hair, pressed their cheeks together, and thrusted.

This was only the second time Haiku had ever had sex but she felt no qualms whatsoever about saying that it was the best sex she had ever had. She clamped her lips onto Jordan's earlobe, raked her nails over Jordan's scalp, and increased her speed. She was rutting Jordan like a fucking dog now, belly to belly, skin to skin, fucking like hell but no dick going in. Jordan was unmoving, unyielding; aside from the blush, which Haiku took to be a purely physical reaction, you would never know that she was being fucked good.

Finally, Haiku's orgasm ripped through her like a nuclear blast. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her toes curled, and her butthole clenched. A scream ripped from her working throat and for a split second, her soul entirely left her body.

The sex was so good that afterward, she was physically drained, almost as if all her energy had spewed out of her pussy along with her girl cum. She rolled off of Jordan and lay next to her, breasts rising and falling with the winded tide of her breathing. She allowed her mind to linger on the memory of fucking Jordan, and in moments, she was all hot and damp again. She rubbed her thighs slowly together, then snaked her hand between her legs and rubbed her clit. When that wasn't enough, she grabbed Jordan's hand, shoved it between her thighs, and humped it. It was limp and warm and amazing, and in a few minutes, she was cumming again, her eyes rollling back and her tongue loling out.

Feeling tired and tingly, she lapsed into a deep slumber.

She woke an hour or so later. The sun had gone down and the basement was filled with shadows and darkness. Jordan lay still, eyes still open and glazed. Whoops, Haiku forgot to wake her up.

After getting dressed, she repeated the ritual from earlier and snapped her fingers. Jordan blinked and sat up. "See?" she asked. "Simple." She winced and flexed her hand. "Why are my fingers sticky?"

Haiku smiled and Jordan grinned. "Did you molest me?"

"Maaaaaybe," Haiku said sheepishly.

"You shouldn't do that," Jordan said. "I like to be awake when people molest me."

They carried out their rituals in secret for the rest of the summer. When school started in September, they went public with their relationship. Haiku got the impression that Jordan would want to keep them a secret but the first time they saw each other, Jordan smiled, grabbed her hand, and threaded their fingers together. They walked through the halls like that all day, and at lunch, they played footsies under the table. People were surprised that they were together, as they were both girls and as they had such different personalities. They were the oddest of odd couples and both Jordan's and Haiku's friends gave them playful flak. "Well, no one's perfect," Jordan said, "except for me." She stuck out her tongue and made a V with her fingers in that retarded and contrived way of hers.

That had long been her motto but she used it a lot over the next few weeks, leading people to start calling her "Jesus with small tits." Haiku took exception to that, since she really liked Jordan's tits.

You know what else she liked?

Well, not "what" but "who."

Lincoln Loud.

Of course it was Lincoln Loud.

Every girl Haiku knew had a secret crush on Lincoln Loud. Though he was a scrawny comic book nerd with snowy white hair, noodly noodle arms, and jagged front teeth that could open a freaking can, there was something about him that drew girls like a magnet. None ever approached him because they were shy or something, but Haiku heard them talking about how cute and sweet he was. As far as Haiku could see, he was a normal boy, not particularly kind and considerate, but that didn't matter. Haiku wasn't interested in dating a saint, she just wanted to hypnotize and fuck him.

She brought the idea up to Jordan one day at lunch, and Jordan stroked her chin thoughtfully. "You know," she said, "you're right. He is really cute. I wouldn't mind tapping that either."

Good. Haiku was afraid that Jordan would be against it. Like Haiku, Jordan was bi, but she wasn't sure that she would be willing to bring a guy into the fold. It would only be temporary. Haiku wasn't looking to make him into a boyfriend or anything, this was purely physical. She and Jordan were both curious girls who had never been with a boy before, so she just wanted to, you know, get the lay of the land, so to speak. They both turned and looked across the lunch room at Lincoln who sat at a table with Clyde, Poppa Wheelie, Rusty, and Liam. They were excitedly playing a game of Pokemon or something and geeking out over the latest episode of Ace Savvy and the Marvelous Three ("Production code 3-9-dash-dot-7," she heard Lincoln say). Lincoln snorted laughter at something Clyde said, and Haiku nodded to herself.

Yes.

He was definitely attractive.

"How are we gonna do it?" Jordan asked, turning over the decision making process to Haiku, since it was her brain child in the first place.

Haiku scrunched her lips to the side and studied the white haired geek, her mind working. The easiest method, as far as she could tell, was to just walk up to him and start flirting. Sure, maybe that was a little anti-climatic, but why complicate things when you don't have to?

She said as much and Jordan shrugged one shoulder noncommittally. "Makes sense to me. When?"

"No time like the present," Haiku said. She slapped the edge of the table and got up like Spongebob heading out.

Jordan got up too and together, they made their way across the cafeteria.

Haku assumed that Lincoln would flirt back with them, you know, all smooth and dapper like an old player, but instead, he was shy and awkward and blushed the whole time they talked to him. Finally, frustrated, Haiku and Jordan returned to thei5r own table. "I guess I botched that plan," Haiku said.

"Well," Jordan said, "no one's perfect…except for me."

Her tongue plopped out and her fingers went up. Like, peace, man.

Haiku rolled her eyes. "You're a dork." she said.

"A perfect dork," Jordan said.

"And how," Haiku agreed.

Jordan's brow creased in confusion. "Huh?"

"Nevermind," Haiku said, "we need to figure out a way to get Lincoln Loud in our clutches."

They didn't have time, as the bell rang just then. They got up, kissed, and went their separate ways, Jordan to history and Haiku to math. She sat in the back of the room and wracked her brain for how to proceed with Lincoln. It never occurred to her to give up or move onto another boy. This was going to happen and it was going to happen with Lincoln. Lincoln just happened to be in that class with her and she watched him from afar, her lips bunched up and her eyes narrowed. An idea came to her and she made a mental note to bring it up to Jordan later.

At the end of the day, she and Jordan met at the park, where they sat on a bench overlooking the duck pond. "So what's your big idea?" Jordan asked.

Haiku told her, and Jordan liked it, so they settled on that course of action. They decided to wait a week or so before putting it into action. The week passed at a crawl, but finally, Friday came. They had discovered a new way of hypnotizing people that wasn't so obvious as Jordan's ritual and they wanted to try it out, so Haiku was looking forward to it. First, they cornered Lincoln at his locker before first period and asked him to come over to Jordan's house, saying she had some rare comic books she wanted to give him. Next, they met at lunch and went over their plan one final time.

At the end of the day, they raced to Jordan's house, her parents still being at work. They both showered and freshened up, then waited. At four, Lincoln came up the walkway and Haiku peeked out the window. "It's go time," she said.

Lincoln knocked and they both opened the door with smiles, "Hey, Linc," Jordan said, "you're looking buff today."

Lincoln blushed. "Uh, thanks."

"Those comics are this way," Jordan said and shut the door behind him. They led him down the basement stairs. "Before I give them to you," Jordan said, "I wanna show you a trick. It's really cool. Haiku and I don't have anyone to try it out on."

"Uh, okay," Lincoln said.

They had Lincoln sit on the couch. Jordan sat next to him on her knees and Haiku sat across from him on the coffee table. The process was a two step one that involved a breathing technique and low, monotonous talking. Jordan instructed Lincoln on how he should breath, and Haiku began to talk. As she spoke, she pulled her dress down her creamy shoulders to expose her small but perfectly formed breasts. Lincoln's eyes widened. "Keep your eyes on my nipples." she said, "block everything out. Breath, listen to my voice, and stare at my boobs…"

Lincoln swallowed deeply and started breathing the way Jordan had showed him again. Haiku went on talking, a bunch of mambo jumbo about feeling sleepy and becoming weightless, and in a few minutes, his eyes rolled back into his head and his muscles all relaxed. His shoulders stooped, his back bent, and his features smoothed over.

He was officially hypnotized.

Jordan and Haiku exchanged a giddy look. Over the past few weeks, they had each fallen into their own roles in the hypno game. Haiku was the dom, Jordan the sub. Now Lincoln would be their sub and Jordan especially was looking forward to being a dom.

"Get up," Haiku ordered.

Lincoln stood stiffly and robotically.

"Take your clothes off," Jordan said and giggled.

Lincoln undressed. When his dick flopped out, Jordan felt warm and tingly all over. She had never seen one before in real life, but it was huge.

"Now walk to the middle of the room," Haiku said.

Lincoln did.

"Do the chicken dance," Jordan cut in.

Stark naked, Lincoln launched into the chicken dance, folding his arms like wings and opening and closing his hands like claws. Jordan laughed until she wept and Haiku leered at his swinging cock. "Now lay down," she said.

Obeying, Lincoln stretched out on his back. Haiku knelt on one side of him and Jordan on the other, They both gaped openly at his cock. "Get hard," Haiku said.

To her surprise, Lincoln's dick twitched and swelled.

Whoa.

He could get hard on command.

She wondered if…

Jordan was way ahead of her. "Cum," she ordered.

Again, Lincoln's dick twitched, then it shot silvery ribbons of cum like a geyser. Both girls blushed and giggled. He started to go limp but Haiku ordered him to stay hard and he did. "Lick it off his leg," Haiku told Jordan.

Jordan tucked her hair behind her ear, bent, and lovingly licked the sperm from Lincoln's inner thigh, her pink tongue curling and lapping. Haiku wrapped her hands around Lincoln's shaft and was surprised at how soft and warm it was. It felt like iron swathed in silk. She moved her hand slowly up and down, smearing hot cum along his skin. She bent over and sniffed, his wild, masculine scent making her wet. "Put it in your mouth," Jordan said.

Haiku took a deep breath and molded her lips to his head. She pushed down and he penetrated her mouth, his heavy, salty cum coating her tongue. She licked and worked his cock up and down, then let Jordan do the same. They touched, kissed, and caressed every part of his body, Haiku focusing mainly on his dick. She liked the way it tasted and felt in her mouth. When she came up one time, she found Jordan fingering his, uh, only opening. "Get your finger out of there," she cried.

"It feels springy," Jordan said. She took her finger out and licked it clean.

Both girls stripped naked and laid down side by side. Jordan ordered Lincoln to eat them out and he did, switching between them and licking for all he was worth. Jordan and Haiku held hands and floated on a tide of bliss, the feeling of his warm, wet tongue squirming against their clits making them crazy. "Now fuck me," Haiku said.

Lincoln mounted her, pushed her feet behind her head, and sank himself roughly into her. His cock spread her apart to the point of splitting and her eyes bulged from her sockets. He set a wild and frenetic pace, his balls slapping her ass and his tip prodding her cervix. "CUM!" Jordan suddenly cried.

Hot liquid filled Haiku and she squealed, pushing him off. "Damn it," she said, "you're going to get me pregnant, Jordan."

"Oh, you're fine," Jordan said.

She got on her hands and knees and Lincoln fucked her from behuind, holding her hips and slamming into her. "Cum," Haiku said.

Lincoln filled Jordan's womb.

"Damn it, I was just getting started," Jordan said.

They did this again and again, only letting Lincoln cum when they were satisfied. When their knees were weak and they felt like they were going to pass out, they got dressed and ordered Lincoiln to put his clothes back off.

They woke him up from his hypnosis and he shook his head. "What happened?" he asked dazedly.

"We hypnotized you," Haiku said.

"Did I do anything?" he asked.

Haiku and Jordan looked at each other. "We made you do the chicken dance," Jordan said.

"It was funny," Haiku said.

They gave Lincoln the comics and sent him on his way. He had no idea what they had done, even though his butt felt sore.

"We gotta do that again," Jordan said.

Haiku smiled. "We will," she promised.

"Oh, we will."

And they would.

THE END