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My name is Jimmy Bonds. Yeah, yeah, I know, my parents had a sense of humor.

Anyway, I got this cool little pendant when I was gardening one day. It's magic or something, because I can use it to get people to do whatever I want. Don't believe me? Well, let me tell you about the day I got it, okay?

Alright, let me start from the beginning.

It was a clear, beautiful afternoon. I've lived in a small suburban town in middle America most of my life. I was in the flower garden with Harold. He's my really close friend, who I met online. Keep any comments to yourself. Trust me; he's a great guy. We were both on our knees, holding spades and those little hook-fork things (I forgot the name of the things; sue me).

Anyway, Harold's a pit bull, a good foot taller than I am, white with splotches of light tan all over him, and built like a brick shithouse, but he's probably the most gentle, kindest guy I know...

...Hm? Oh, right, that day. Ahem, we had some flowers in pots and were digging holes...

"Hey, Jimmy, check this out," said Harold after his spade made a light _clink_in the dirt. I looked over, reaching up to run my arm across my forehead. The pit bull held up a small clod of dirt and was breaking it apart. "I think I found something." I love his accent, by the way; He's from New Zealand.

"What is it?" I asked, crawling over and tilting my head as I stared at the circular object he was holding. "Looks like a coin. Heh, looks like we're rich," I teased, reaching up to give Harold a gentle scratch behind the ear. He laughed, giving one of my long ears a tug in return.

"Nah, look. It's got a hole on this side, like it would fit on a necklace," he said, pointing as he rubbed off the dirt. "Oi, it says something..." I blinked again, leaning in to squint at the words on the small coin. "I can't read it; looks like Spanish."

"I never took Spanish in school," I mumbled, taking off my glove and picking up the pendant to use my thumbnail in order to scrape off the dirt. It looked like it could have been shiny at one point, but was definitely made of metal. I don't know what kind of metal, since it was a strange green color now. "Let me see... Um... 'Escucha esta de voz y obedecer.'" I didn't notice it at the time - the dirt had masked it - but the pendant glowed a little as I'd spoke, as hesitant and stilted as my Spanish was.

"Huh. Well, hold onto it for a little while, Jimmy. We can get it washed off properly once we're done here, eh?" I smiled and picked up my spade before stuffing the coin into my pocket.

"Well, well, what have we here?" called a voice that was both familiar and incredibly smarmy. Harold and I looked over, both of us frowning. My neighbor, Ronny, a white mouse no taller than I am and the local suburban douchecanoe, wearing those dumb thick-rimmed "hipster" glasses that I swear he didn't even need to wear, was leaning against my white fence, his pink tail swishing behind him as he smiled that infuriatingly smug smile of his. "It's Double-O-Zero! What're you doing, Harry? I thought Bond was the woman in your relationship!"

I gripped my spade, opening my mouth to retort, but Harold beat me to it, climbing to his feet and taking a step forward. "Wait, Harold," I said. The pit bull stopped in his tracks, the lip of his jowls starting to quiver.

"Aww, is the puppy getting mad?" asked Ronny, though he'd taken a step back from the fence and his voice dropped the bravado. Still, he lifted both of his arms out to either side of him, as if indicating the world around us. "Come on, I'm just exercising my freedom of speech! Don't they have that in Australia?"

"He's from New Zealand, you dumbass!" I snapped, the blade of the spade slipping across my hand. Now, of all days, the other neighbors decided that it was too hot to be outside.

"Same difference," Ronny scoffed. "Anyway, you two ladies have fun with your garden, I've had my fun." He was laughing as he turned to walk down the sidewalk, though I still had to make one last pass at his back.

"Get fucked, dickhead!" Ronny froze, and I half-expected him to turn around and say something else, or even jump over the fence. It would have given me an excuse, anyway... But, no, he just walked off, going completely silent. "Good riddance," I grumbled, turning back to Harold, who hadn't moved from his spot, but was watching Ronny leave. It was at that point that I realized that I was in pain. I looked down, blood leaking from my brown-furred hand in a steady stream. "Oh, fuck me," I muttered, and tossed the spade back towards the garden with a huff. "I gotta go to the garage, Harold."

What I didn't see was Harold follow me as I jogged into my house, holding the gash on my palm to keep from bleeding all over my clean floor before I went into the garage, where I kept the first-aid kit. I had just finished up wrapping gauze over some cotton to quell the bleeding, the kit resting on the hood of my car - a nice green-colored Prius, if you're curious; I'm an ecological sort - when I felt more than I heard Harold behind me, which I'll admit is weird, what with me being a rabbit and him being almost six and a half feet tall.

"Heh, wanted to make sure I was alright?" I asked, not looking behind me. "Don't worry, it looked worse than it-" I was cut off by Harold pressing his body against mine his hand pushing my chest onto the hood of my car. The first-aid kit was knocked off of the hood by my flailing arm. Lucky that I'd already wrapped up my hand by this point. "Harold, what the hell?"

He didn't answer, his hips grinding into my rear before his fingers hooked under my waistband, tugging my tight pants over the curve of my ass and halfway down my thighs. "Hell, Harold, you could have just asked," I said, kind of jokingly, but even as he pulled down the fly of his own pants so that his very large red rocket could pop free, I knew something was much different. "Harold?" I asked nervously.

Harold was completely silent as he held me down with one powerful hand, his other lifting my hips up so that my toes were only barely touching the garage floor. Even though I knew something was seriously wrong here, my tail was wiggling over my butt as he slid his cock between the two cheeks, basically hotdogging me for a few moments. I don't know, maybe, at the time, I thought Ronny had gotten to Harold, and he wanted to let off some steam. My ears fell down against my back and I looked over my shoulder, blinking. "D-don't go in dry!" I said, just as he'd started to angle himself to shove in.

He froze for just a few seconds before he slowly lowered himself down onto his knees behind me, pressing his cool nose against my taint and slid that long, flat tongue of his against it before moving it up to the base of my tail. Ah, there was the Harold I knew, or so I thought. He was good at foreplay, which might have put me a bit more at ease, even with the really strange silent treatment beforehand, so... I dunno, maybe that just calmed me down somehow.

...Or maybe I'm just kind of a slut for big dogs with tongues who know how to use them. Fucking sue me.

It might have also been that the hood of my car was probably the only flat surface in the house by that point that he hadn't_fucked me on. Still, at any rate, he was giving me a nice thorough licking, and I can only imagine how much I glistened from it. Of course, I was now getting really excited, my breath making the metal surface of the hood steam up. Harold even lapped at my balls, like a gentleman _should do. I was hard as a rock, make no mistake.

I felt Harold's hands on my ass after a few moments, and he stood up, looming over me again like last time. I looked over my shoulder at him, and saw that by the angle of the light on the ceiling, the top of his face was cast in shadow by his eyebrows. I kinda snapped me out of the pleasure-drunk for a few seconds, until his cock was shoved into my ass with enough force to send me forwards, my cheek getting smooshed up against the hood of the car. Damn, his cock is huge.

Honestly, I kinda lost track of time for a little while. I could feel him fucking me, his hips slapping against my ass, his balls swinging and hitting my taint, hands gripping my hips, or at one point my ears... To make it all the better, he's gotta be magic or something, because he managed to make me cum twice, before he did. He didn't knot me this time around, though, and when he pulled out, I felt the warm seed on my back, and leaking out of me. I was punch-drunk, and sore, my legs quivering and my knees knocking together. But, I think the thing that finally got me was that he was about to go again. I felt him trying to shove his cock back in, and heard a little whine come from him, which I think was his dick being really sensitive shortly after an orgasm.

"Harold?" I asked, raising up a little and looking at him. His dick wasn't as hard as it was before; once tended to be enough for him, and he was trying to go a second time. "Harold, what's wrong?" All he managed to do was let out another whine, almost desperately gripping his dick to keep it hard. "Hey, snap out of it, Harold!"

He suddenly froze, and rose his head up, face coming into more relief as he blinked. "Bloody hell, finally," he grunted, leaning forward to place his hands on the hood of the car to brace himself.

I blinked again, turning around so I was facing him. "What?" I asked.

"I wasn't doing any of that," he said, panting softly. "I mean, I was. But, I just didn't have any... Control over it. I was... Aware, just not... Doing it."

"What..." I stared up at him, blinking, before looking around. "Why did that..." Something clicked in my mind and crouched down, puling my pants back up so I could search the pockets. Harold was still talking.

"I remember your voice kind of... Echoing. When you told me to stop, and just now, before I started fucking you." I pulled out the green coin, wiping away some more of the dirt and mud as Harold just kinda smiled a little bit. "Not that I'm complaining. We haven't had sex on the hood of the car before now, have we?"

"I'd said 'fuck me'..." I bit my lip, barely paying attention to Harold as I stared at the Spanish words on the coin. "Was it this coin?" Harold shrugged, moving to lean on the car beside me.

"I dunno." He was watching me now as he pulled his own pants up. "What are you going to do with it?"

I looked to my boyfriend, and he was smiling. "What, you're not going to tell me to get rid of it?" I asked, and Harold merely shrugged.

"Honestly, Jimmy, you're an independent adult. We live together in a suburban household and you're an assistant manager a retail store. I trust you to use it responsibly." I rolled my eyes and jabbed the pit bull in the arm.

"No pressure, right?" I asked, before looking back at the coin again. It was about then that something clicked in my mind. "Oh, shit, I told Ronny to get fucked." Harold blinked, before his head tilted to one side and he looked up at the ceiling.

"Honestly, Jimmy, I can't bring myself to worry too much about that," he said, shrugging. "Yeah, maybe he's getting fucked, but I nearly snapped out of my own trance the moment I came, so maybe he'll snap out of it before then?" The pit bull smirked. "And anyway, we've always said he needed a good fucking. Maybe it'll get him to stop antagonizing us for once?"

I could only laugh and shake my head. Honestly, Harold had a point.

And anyway, a hypnotizing coin could come in real handy.