Justin’s room was mostly as Michael remembered it.

There was a bed, a TV, an electronic console, a fan… and semi-naked posters of pig girls, human women, and females of other species being put on his walls.

Really, it wasn’t that different from Michael’s, except he’d never be so bold as to put softcore pornography on his walls.

He reserved that for his closet.

The bed covers with curvacious dog girls presenting their asses with the word “bitches” underscored beneath the images was new though.

“I want one of those,” Michael said, mostly to himself.

“I know, right?” Justine laughed, “Saved up a bit for it, but it was worth it.”

“Your mother doesn’t complain?” Michael wondered.

“Ah, well, you know,” Justine laughed again, more nervously this time, “So long as I do my laundry, Mom never brings up what I have in the room.”

Michael pondered if his mother would either and, now that he thought about it, would probably just laugh it off.

But then, his mother wasn’t very judgemental. 

What would she do if she knew that I lusted after her?

Michael shook his head.

“So, father number four is gone?” Michael asked if only to change the subject.

“For 2 months now,” Justine grunted, “And thank the gods for that.”

“How did he take the news that your mother wasn’t renewing the marriage contract?” Michael responded.

In truth, to call the Seven Piece Nation the gathering of many peoples was a vast understatement. Some providences had certain cultural motifs that were mostly shared by their people. Some providences had more of a certain species than others. And some providences were not exactly pleasant to live in, especially for a human. What they all had in common was how chaotic the cultural and legal framework of a species, and sometimes between species, could be from time to time.

For pigs, by way of example, marriage was a contract. A culmination of many things, sometimes even including love, that had a term limit. As most porcine things did.

Concurrent polyamorous contracts had once been the norm, but even the incredibly tolerant legal framework that developed from all species gathering together to make survival possible hadn’t been able to keep up with THAT.

And so it was that most pig men and pig girls married a couple of people throughout their lives. If the marriage was going well, the contract would be extended as it needed to be. If it wasn’t, well…

“Cried like a fucking pussy,” his friend spat, “I don’t know how he didn’t see that coming, honestly: he didn’t even manage to knock Mom up a single time!”

The question of why Justine felt that way about his ex-stepfather didn’t even need to be asked. At the very least, Michael didn’t want to sit around for another hour of his complaining about the vast amount of things the fella did or didn’t do.

Again.

Although, given that Jonesey had never stayed married for more than the five years the most basic marriage stipulated, as far as Michael could gather, he wondered why this was a surprise to anyone.

But then, given that he had met the man, he wondered if maybe she was just attracted to awful guys. No one, not even Justine’s father, had sounded like a good match. 

“And it’s not like mom didn’t try,” Justine grumbled, “But, you know, that’s how it always goes, with her trying to make something work that just didn’t have the chance…”

Michael’s best friend sighed.

“So yeah, why did you have some blood on you?” Justine asked, “Dug for gold too hard?”

“That’s a ‘you’ sort of thing, bud,” Michael replied.

“Huh-uh,” the pig boy responded, “Sorry to inform you, but it’s just you humans with your weak noses that do that.”

“Says the guy who made his nose bleed,” Michael shot back.

“That was for a completely unrelated reason,” Justine answered, “And you keep changing the subject. Dude, what’s up?”

Michale hesitated for a second.

He wanted to tell Justine; he really did.

But just how much did he tell him?

What did he tell him?

Well, he would begin with a little bit of the truth.

“I can do magic,” Michael admitted.

Justine blinked at him.

“Magic?” He repeated.

“Yeah, magic,” Michael confirmed.

“You mean the thing corporations and the government do with big expensive machines?” Justine asked for clarity.

“There are hobos and religious people that do it on their own,” Michael replied, feeling a bit on the defensive.

“And they are all old as fuck!” Justine said, “AND they spend a lot of time outside of the shields.”

“And-” Justine started to say, before hesitating, “-they are not human.”

And wasn’t that the biggest sticker?

Human beings, after all, could not use interdimensional energy. Could not have it course through their bodies so that they could shape it and give it form. It was one of the many ways in which they were inferior to everyone else, despite the fact that not everyone who was a nonhuman could either.

It was a rare talent for a reason.

An obsolete talent, but still rare.

And yet.

“I can do it,” Michael confirmed, “Or, I think it’s magic? I’ve been doing something.” 

The headaches. The hypnosis. What were they if not examples of interdimensional energy usage?

“Fine.” Justine allowed, “Assuming that I believe you, how did it happen?”

And here Michael paused for a bit.

“I made some people do some things,” Michael admitted.

“What things?” Justine asked, finally being curious.

“Some things I rather not speak of,” Michael replied.

“Huh-uh,” Justine replied.

Both boys looked at each other for a while, until Justine was convinced that Michael wasn’t pulling a joke on him and until Michael was sure he wasn’t just going to dismiss him.

“Alright,” Justine said, “Show me.”

“Like what?” Michael’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t know, pull a rat out of a hat or some shit like that.” Justine waved his hands around.

“Ok, that’s a magician, and they don’t use magic!” Michael growled, “They, you know, use tricks and not interdimensional manipulation!”

“Then elevate this pencil,” the pig boy took the written implement from his bag and threw it on the floor, “That should be easy, right?”

Michael opened his mouth.

And then closed it.

Could he?

“Alright, let me try,” Michael grumbled as he stared at the pencil.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Justine said with mild expectation.

Michael locked his eyes with the utensil. It was just a pencil, right? He could lift it up with a single finger, let alone his mind. Hell, just making it wobble would prove his claim.

And so, he made the image of a pencil in his mind. He ignored the house, the floor he was sitting on, and even his friend as he put every single iota of concentration in his brain on it.

He imagined the pencil levitating. He imagined how it would go.

And then, with the greatest mental exertion that he could muster, he tried to move it.

Up!

Michael willed the pencil to float. He flexed his mind as much as he could feel it did so. He stared at the pencil until his eyes hurt. He clenched with all the muscles in his head until his scalp hurt.

He even started sweating.

And, throughout it all, the pencil did not move one single centimeter.

After a while, Michael gasped as he got tired of clenching.

“Fuck, not even a bit,” he murmured.

The feeling that he got when he had hypnotized people, that of something leaving him, was not here. Oh, he was feeling a headache coming in, but it was probably from the pressure of flexing all the muscles in his head and neck.

Why wasn’t this working?

“So magic, huh?” Justine asked.

“I did it, I swear!” Michael almost yelled.

“Right, right,” Justine put his hands up.

“Are you sure, you know, you weren’t just around someone else doing some?” the pig boy asked.

The thought that someone else would make his aunt strip and allow him to touch her like he did earlier in the day was ludicrous. 

But he couldn’t exactly say that.

“I am sure,” Michael confirmed.

“Right, right,” Justine nodded as if he were humoring him. Which, honestly, at this point he was.

Michael could almost grind his teeth.

“Well bud, I don’t know what to tell you.” Justine shrugged, “Because if you can’t at least pull a rat out of a hat-”

“-that’s not magic-” Michael interrupted.

“-then I don’t know what I can even help you with.” Justine continued as if Michael hadn’t, “Like, what did you do to make you think that you could do magic?”

What indeed.

So far, every time that it had happened it had been without Michael’s will. Every time he did the thing where he stared people in the eye and felt something go from him to them, it was when he wanted something from them.

No, it was when he needed something from them.

He was scared of what he was going through. Of himself, if he was honest. But if this was the only way?

Michael locked eyes with his best friend.

He did not want to do this. But he needed him to believe him.

Justine locked eyes with him. He was clearly humoring him still.

Michael raised his chin and willed his friend to…be hypnotized?

“What are you doing?” Justine almost laughed.

“I need you to believe me,” Michael grunted, and...there!

Justine’s facial muscles relaxed and Michael felt, ah, something flow out of him.

He wasn’t imagining things!

His pig friend blandly stared at him as a headache, not as big as the one he had experienced with his aunt, but stronger than the one he had experienced with the desk dog, made him rub his head.

“Fuck, that’s unpleasant,” Michael murmured as he held his head.

Thankfully, by the time the pain subsided, his friend was still in that trance, “Justine?”

“I am here,” Justine replied in a monotone.

“Do you believe me now?” Michael asked.

“No,” was Justine’s response.

Michael stared at him.

Why didn’t he? Michael just hypnotized him!

But then, no one, not even his aunt, had realized that he had done it. So maybe…

“I just hypnotized you,” Michael dared to say. Would that realization change anything?

“You did?” Justine asked, some surprise bleeding through the monotone.

“I did,” Michael assured him, and, to his amazement, his friend nodded.

So just like that?

“Justine?” Michael prodded him.

“I am here,” Justine replied in the same monotone again.

“Do you believe me now?” Michael asked.

“Yes,” Justine replied as if it weren’t a big revelation. It just was.

“Ok, good,” Michael muttered as his friend kept staring at him as if he weren’t there.

How long was this supposed to last anyway?

“Um, can you come out of it now?” Michael asked and his friend hesitated for a moment.

“Did I do it?” Justine asked in a monotone.

“I don’t think so?” Michael opined.

“Then no,” the pig replied.

Fuck, was he supposed to wait until this hypnotism ran out every time he did it? 

What was he supposed to do in the meantime?

But as he thought about it, Michael started realizing that, well, didn’t people only do what he ordered them to do?

And so, staring his friend in the eye again, Michael opened his mouth and very deliberately said, “Come out of it now.”

Justine blinked.

“Huh,” the pig boy said as he touched his hands.

“Do you believe me?” Michael asked again.

“Yeah, yeah, the mind thing,” Justine waved him off, as if it had been clear from the beginning, “I don’t feel a thing though.”

“You don’t?” Michael frowned.

“I mean, you convinced me, but the more I think about it the less…I feel like you did something?” Justine said, “But since you said you hypnotized me, I believe you.”

Then Justine paused again.

“Is that what you have been doing?” he asked, visibly restraining himself from gushing out.

“Something like that,” Michael replied. He really, reeeally would rather not go into it.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Justine got up and began to pace, “Mind control? I mean, there is no machine that does that!”

“Like, the old tales, right? There aren’t any records of any spell that can do that!” the pig boy said as his body trembled, “Do you know what this means, Michael?”

“That they are going to lock me up to keep me from causing havoc in society?” Michael drily asked.

“The pussy, man!” Justine ignored him, “Think of all the pussy you can have!”

Michael opened his mouth to refute the thought, but then he stopped.

Wasn’t that what he had been doing?

“Think about it,” Justine laughed, “You could have Mrs. Hedwig show you her puss and clear up if she has spikes down there once and for all.”

He could, couldn’t he?

He could reach across the student-teacher relationship that was between him and her. Across the gulf in species that lay between them. Ignore their age difference and make her his whore.

He could, he could…

He could ruin it all.

That thought, more than anything, brought a stop to his developing daydream. 

No, no, before anything else, he had to make sure that he wouldn’t be hurting those he cared about. Like his mom, who would get in trouble if it was known that he had this because of the medicine that she had brought from the lab. Or his aunt, who was covering up for him.

Before he ran roughshod with this, he had to make sure he wouldn’t fuck things up.

“What are the limits of this?” his friend eagerly asked, snapping him out of his thoughts, “Like, you can’t lift a pencil, but can you do anything besides hypnotizing people?”

“I don’t know,” Michael now sullenly replied.

“Hmm, maybe you should test things out?” Justine opined and Michael gave him a look.

“Hey, listen,” the pig boy soothed, “It’s cool if you don’t want all the pussy, but don’t you at least want some of the pussy?”

Well, that would be controlled, no?

“I mean…” Michael weakly said.

“It doesn’t even have to be something bad,” Justine said, “But, like, do you know what you can even do with it?”

“Like, could you have someone have sex with you?” he asked as if that weren’t something bad.

Could he?

There had been some awkwardness with his aunt. But if he had worded things right, if he had set things up beforehand, could he have?

Although his aunt seemed to be snapping out of it the further he went. But maybe that was just the hypnotism running out?

All of a sudden, he had so many questions.

“Maybe,” Michael allowed.

“I am just saying, man, you should test things,” the pig boy said, “See how far this thing goes.”

To be honest, when Michael had come here to talk to his friend, he hadn’t expected to be encouraged to exploit all of this thing.

He also wanted to talk about his changed genitals, but maybe next time.

He needed time to think.

“I think I need to go home,” Michael replied as he rubbed his forehead.

“This soon?” Justine asked.

“Every time I do the hypnotism thing it hurts my head,” Michael explained.

“Really? Man, there is no such a thing as a free lunch, huh.” Justine sympathized with him.

“Yeah, I’ll see you in school tomorrow,” Michael said, feeling a bit tired.

“If you come, anyway,” Justine ribbed him one last time before Michael clasped his hand and left his room.

He almost made it to the front door of his house, too, before being stopped.

“Oh honey, leaving so soon?” the curvaceous porcine mother of his best friend asked as he grabbed the door handle.

“Um, yeah, gotta get home,” Michael said.

“But you just arrived!” Jonesey spread her hands.

“I’ll be back some other time,” Michael tried to assuage her but before he could exit he felt something grab his shirt

It was Jonesey pinching a bit of his sleeve.

“Honey, if you fought with my boy,” the pig mother began, making Michael internally groan, “Know that you are always welcome here, anyway.”

“Thanks, Miss Fanning, really,” Michael insisted, “But it’s not a fight. I really just have to go.”

Jonesey let him go.

“Honey, don’t let me keep you,” she said and Michael nodded.

Then he began opening the door.

“But you know you can always talk to me if you need to, right?” the woman asked and Michael stopped again.

“I guess?” Michael dubiously allowed because, well, his patience was starting to be stressed.

“I don’t want to be a bother honey,” the pig woman sighed, “But I know how hard humans have it. And I know how hard you have it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Michael insisted.

“Everyone is honey,” Miss Fanning replied, “Until they are not.”

Michael wanted to ask her what business of her that was, but the woman was sweet enough that he wasn’t willing to do that.

Yet.

“Listen, how about you let me make you a cookie,” the pig woman offered, “Just one. And then I’ll let you go, no strings attached?”

“But I just ate!” Michael replied.

“It’ll help your digestion,” Jonesey said, “And it won’t take me that long.”

Good gods could his best friend’s mother be pushy!

But she was so nice about it!

And she smelt fantastic! There was something deeply attractive about her scent.

But he wanted to go home and, at the very least, have another lie down while he thought about stuff!

Getting multiple headaches on the same day wasn’t doing him any favors…

“Come on, hon, just this once,” Jonesey blinked her eyes at him and, as pretty as she did them,  Michael internally groaned.

So, with his mind as tired as he was, he did something he otherwise wouldn’t have. Or so he hoped.

He looked Jonesey Fanning in the eye and gestured at the door.

“Stop,” he told her and, immediately, he felt some energy leave his head again.

This time, he tried to curtail it. Tried to not let it flow as it pleased.

And it sort of worked?

At the very least, he didn’t need a few moments to recover from this headache. Augh.

“Ok,” the meaty woman replied in a monotone.

“I didn’t fight with your son,” Michael informed her.

“Ok,” she tonelessly replied.

“I am not leaving because of some issue I might have,” Michael told her. A lie, and perhaps an unnecessary one, but he could scarcely imagine what she would do if she thought that she had let him go while something was wrong with him.

“If you say so.” There was some dubiousness bleeding through her voice, but she accepted it.

“And you are going to let me go without stopping me for anything else,” Michael ordered her.

Miss Fanning’s face scrounged, but, in the end, she nodded.

That, right there. Was that the hypnosis starting to run out, or was it that there was a limit to what he...