The Silver Leash

The Silver Leash, Part 4

by All These Roadworks

Tags: #cw:noncon #D/s #dom:male #f/m #humiliation #multiple_partners #sub:female #mind_control

Story by All These Roadworks (2023).
Author's Note: I'm fully financially supported by my writing, and I depend on your support to keep the bills paid and the lights on.  If you enjoy this story - and want to see more like it - please consider the purchase of an e-book or membership at my creator site,!  (Click here to view the shop.)
Jake’s sleep was filled with confused, erotic images of Amy, and Emily, and Madison, and it was with some disappointment that he finally awoke to discover that it was Monday, and that he was obliged to go to school.
Jake may have turned 18, but there was still a third of a year left until he graduated from Five Hills High, and as much as he wanted to practice his new powers, he also needed to practice his Maths and English if he wanted to finish up with the grades he aspired to.
Five Hills didn’t require uniforms - a minor blessing - and so he was out the door in jeans and a loose T-shirt with time to spare, and after walking the seven blocks to the school campus he had more than half an hour until classes started.
But when he entered the school building he discovered an unusual sight.  There was a crowd of activity around the entrance to the school library - burly men carrying boxes of books out of the library, and out of the school, towards a waiting van - and the librarian, Miss Weaver, was sitting nearby, in a hollow under a stairwell… and *crying*.
Jake knew Miss Weaver - or Natalie, as he had called her then.  She had been a student here at Five Hills only four years ago, and Jake had harboured a small pubescent crush on her while she was in her senior year.  She may have had the brain of a nerd, but she had never seemed to understand that she also had the body of a fashion model, and her four years of university prior to returning to act as the school teacher-librarian had only developed her in intriguing ways.  
She had removed her customary spectacles to wipe the tears from her reddened eyes, and her face looked erotically naked without them.  The thought occurred to Jake that some women just looked prettier when they were crying, and Natalie Weaver was such a woman.
Jake tried to accost one of the man carrying the boxes.  “Hey,” he said.  “What’s going on here?”
“Out of my way, kid,” grunted the man.  “Banned books.”
“Banned books?” repeated Jake.  “What the fuck?”
But it was clear there was no more information forthcoming from the worker, so Jake went to see Miss Weaver.
She was seated in a school-style classroom chair, and didn’t seem to notice him approaching.
“Miss Weaver?” he said, awkwardly.  “Natalie?”  He’d never really interacted with her as more than a librarian before, and then only briefly.  He wasn’t sure she even knew who he was.
But she did.
“Oh, Jake!” she said, looking up and blinking.  She was obviously embarrassed, ashamed of her tears, ashamed of letting someone younger - and a student, at that - see her in her distress.  “I’m sorry, don’t mind me.  It’s just… silly.  I should have known this would happen.”
Jake looked around, and found another chair pushed up against a wall.  He scooted it over and sat next to Miss Weaver.
“What’s going on?” he asked her.
“They’re removing books from the library,” she said.  “Books that they say are inappropriate.  Ones about sex and sexuality.  Anything with people that are - you know - queer.  Some political ones too.  There was a complaint.”
Jake felt a sudden flare of anger.   Banned books?  In this day and age?  He had always valued the school library, as a place that was quiet and safe, and cool on hot days and warm on cold ones, stocked with tales of the past and the future and distant worlds and all-too-near ones, and to hear that books were being removed from it felt like a personal violation.  
And the principle of the thing - that someone thought he couldn’t be trusted to make up his own mind about what he read.  That books might *influence* him in ways that someone disapproved of.  The very thought made him mad as hell, and eager to fight.
“How many?” he asked.
“Nearly five hundred books,” she said.  “There’ll be empty shelves.  I guess I’ll have to replace them with… something inoffensive.”
Jake clenched his teeth.  “This isn’t fair,” he said.
Miss Weaver looked at him.  “I know,” she said.  “But schools are rarely fair, Jake.”
He looked at the tears in her eyes, and on her face, and said, “This really hurts you, doesn’t it?”
She blushed.  “It does, but… it’s not just that.  I spoke to the principal this morning, and he said the complaint also made… allegations about me.  That I was trying to corrupt students by having these books in the library.”
“That’s ridiculous!” protested Jake.
“Whoever complained said that I… showed cleavage, to tempt young boys,” she said.
Jake tried to remember Miss Weaver’s outfits.  He couldn’t remember more than the merest hint of neckline in anything she had worn - and he thought if she had ever “showed cleavage” that he would have remembered, and probably masturbated to it later the same night.
He didn’t know what to say.
“I’m going to have to front the Parents & Teachers Association,” said Miss Weaver, “and answer questions about the books, and my clothes, and my… sex life.  I might lose my job.  And even if I don’t, the principal says I’ll have to write a letter to every family at the school apologising for acting like a slut and stocking perverted material in the library.”
The last words of this sentence quavered, and then dissolved into deep, choking, humiliated sobs.
Jake didn’t know what else to do - so he put his arm around the crying librarian.
And immediately, he felt it - the ember, awakening, somewhere inside Miss Weaver.  She was responding to his touch, with the barest flicker of arousal.  No doubt an instinctive reaction to physical touch and affection in a time when she was vulnerable - Jake had no real illusions that Miss Weaver was hot for him - and yet it would be enough for him to use his power.  To snare her with a Silver Leash.
He remembered what his cousin Madison had said - that girls needed to be insecure or off-balance for him to use his power on them.  That was certainly the case here.  And they needed to be someone that he, personally, wanted to fuck.  That was true, too - and he felt his cock hardening slightly at Miss Weaver’s nearness.
He could do it, and she would never know.  He could connect her arousal to the shame she was feeling, like he had with Emily, and make her forever aroused by being humiliated.  Or he could connect it to the affection he was showing her, and make her get wet whenever he gave her attention and kindness.  If he did, it would almost inevitably lead to her offering herself to him - spreading her legs for the student who always made her feel horny…
But he had promised Madison that he wouldn’t.  He would suppress his power for a week.  She would know if he used it - she would feel it - and that would be the end of her promise to teach him how to use it.  Maybe more than that - she had vaguely implied that if she thought he was using the power unethically, she would *take action*...
But beyond that, Madison was just *right*.  It *was* unethical to take advantage of Miss Weaver in her moment of weakness, to give her an embarrassing new kink, or make her his fuck-slave.  The thought of mind-controlling her into a sexual encounter was blazingly erotic, of course - but in the long term, that wasn’t who he wanted to be, and it wasn’t the sort of relationship he wanted with any girl who he cared for and respected.
So he deliberately didn’t reach for the ember of arousal in Miss Weaver, and made a point of studiously ignoring it.
Instead, he asked a question.
“Do you know who made the complaint?” he asked.
She shook her head.  “No,” she said.  “I have no idea.  I think the principal knows, but he’s not telling.”
Jake considered.  Who would make a complaint like this?  A complete bitch, obviously.  Someone obsessed with morality and purity.  Someone homophobic, who hated queer people.  Someone who had access to the contents of the library and who could discreetly make a list of “inappropriate books”.  Someone who enjoyed hurting and humiliating pretty women…
It could have been any number of people.  But one clear suspect came to Jake’s mind.
“Cat,” he whispered.
“What?” asked Miss Weaver.
“Cat Weatherwill,” said Jake.  “You know her.  The blonde senior with the bangs and the expensive fashion choices.  She runs the Purity Club, and the Student Prayer Circle, and her mom is on the PTA, too.  She’s always going on about how the school shouldn’t allow gay students, and how it should expel students caught with porn.  I bet it was her.”
And as if Jake had invoked the name of a demon, he suddenly realised she was there - down the far end of the school hallway, standing with her two “Cat Clique” friends, watching the workmen remove the books, and smirking.  She was perfect, beautiful, untouchable, and every inch the image of a smug evil bitch, enjoying the fruits of her malevolence.
Miss Weaver suddenly seemed to realise that she had a student’s arm around her, and blushed, and shrugged Jake off.  
“Jake, it doesn’t matter now who complained,” she said.  “It’s happened, and I have to deal with it.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” said Jake.  And then, again: “This isn’t fair.”
He felt the anger swelling in him - the sense of powerlessness in the face of an injustice.  Cat and her friends thought they could do whatever they wanted - hurt whoever they wanted - and get away with it because they were rich, and pretty, and well-connected.
And they were right.  They could.  This was far from the first life that Cat had casually ruined, and she was young enough that there were an almost endless series of chances to do it again stretched out ahead of her.
And then Jake remembered.  He *wasn’t* powerless.  There *was* something he could do about it, now.
He remembered Madison’s admonishment from the day before.
“I didn’t say you could never use it, Jake,” she had said.  “I just said you can’t use it on innocent girls.  But you know… not all girls are innocent.”
Cat was as far from innocent as a girl could be.  If anyone deserved to be leashed by Jake’s power, it was her.  It would put her in her place - teach her humility.  (And if Jake maybe got to fuck her perfect little rich-girl cunt in the process, well, that was a reasonable reward for his intervention, wasn’t it?)
Madison had said he couldn’t use his power for a week.  But this was a special occasion.  This was someone who deserved it.  If Madison could see the snide smirk on Cat’s pretty little face as she watched the books being removed from the library, then Jake was sure she’d tell him to go for it.
He got up from his chair and strode down the corridor.
“Jake…” warned Miss Weaver, weakly, but Jake ignored her.
“Cat!” he yelled as he approached her.
Cat swung her gaze from the workmen to consider the boy marching towards her.
“Excuse me,” she drawled.  “Do I *know* you?”
Jake coloured.  They had sat together in classes for years.  Of course she knew him.  This was a calculated insult, just like everything else that Cat did.
And if he hadn’t been sure of that, the immediate sniggers that issued from Cat’s followers made it clear.  Redheaded fashion model Gwen Love, and exotic influencer Juno South; in that moment, Jake hated them both with a white-hot flame.
He ignored Cat’s question.
“Did you do this?” he said, pointing at the workmen.
“I have NO idea what you’re talking about,” said Cat.  But the smirk as she said it told him everything he needed to know.  It *had* been her, and seeing Miss Weaver crying, and Jake in a fury, just made her enjoy it more.
“You fucking bitch,” said Jake.  He didn’t swear often - and even less at women - but the removal of the books, and Miss Weaver’s distress, had touched something in him.  “Why do you even care what’s in the library?  Do you even read?”
Juno stepped forward, angry.  “How *dare* you speak to a girl that way?” she hissed.  “A turd like you should be grateful to even be allowed in our presence.”
Cat waved her away.  “Hush, Juno sweetie, I can handle this myself,” she said.  
She regarded Jake with a cool eye, even as she played with her hair with one hand, twirling it around her finger.  It was a deliberately flirtatious gesture, and even in the height of his anger it made Jake blush, because as much as he hated this girl, she was a vision of pure teenage lust, and he had to admit how nice it would be to hold her, and kiss her, and fuck her…
“You’re Jake, aren’t you?” she said, and then went on without waiting for an answer.  “Well, Jake, number one, yes, of course I read, although what I mostly read is the word of Our Lord in the Bible, and if you spent a little more time reading it yourself, you’d understand what a Jezebel *slut* our little local librarian is, and why all those books about *sex* and *sodomites* and *lesbians* were the work of Satan.”
She took a step forward, moving into Jake’s personal space, and suddenly he felt a little less confident, confronted by the sheer force of her personality.  He had to resist the urge to take a step back.
“Number two, Jake,” she said, twisting his name as though it was a slur, “you need to understand that these decisions don’t concern you.  They’re made by people who actually matter, like me, and my father, and my mother, and at the end of the day if that makes you upset, then you can… what’s the phrase?  Die mad about it.
She stepped forward again, and now her tits were actually touching Jake’s chest, and she was close enough to kiss, and he was looking right into her amused bitchy beautiful eyes.
“And three,” she said, “it seems to me that even by the standards of people who don’t matter, you personally are a limp-dicked little worm who doesn’t even deserve to lick my shoes.  So what, exactly, Jake, are you going to *do* about it?”
Jake clenched his fists.  He felt a heat within his brain, and a throbbing in his groin.
“This,” he whispered.  And he reached out with the Silver Leash.
He cast his mind into the heart of her, looking for the ember, looking for her thoughts, looking to connect her sexuality to the most degrading thing he could find.  Maybe he could make her want to wet herself in front of the whole school.  Maybe he could make her fuck her pet dog.  Maybe he could make her into his mindless obedient fucktoy.
And he found… nothing.
No ember.  No kinks.  And, above and beyond that, an ice-hard wall completely repelling his intrusion.  He felt his mind bounce off that wall so hard that it physically hurt.
And he remembered - the thing he had forgotten in his fury.
There were two rules to using his power.  The girl had to be aroused.  And the girl had to be insecure.
Cat Weatherwill wasn’t horny - and certainly not for him.  And even if she had been, he could neither see nor manipulate that spark of arousal, because she was confident.  
No, not just confident, but *ironclad*.  She was wrapped in an armour of absolute complete conviction that she was important, popular, and untouchable.  She had the unshakeable belief that she would always get what she wanted, when she wanted it - and it was a belief that was almost certainly correct.
There was no way in for Jake.  There was nothing he could do.
A long silence stretched out.
“What?” asked Cat after a moment, with an affected giggle.  “What are you going to do, Jake?  Are you going to hit me?  My father has *lawyers*, Jake.  If you lay a finger on me you will go to *jail*.  So what are you going to do?  Huh?”
Jake’s face went purple with anger and humiliation.
“Aw,” said Cat.  “So sad.  Sounds like limp-dicked little Jake is just all talk.  It’s a shame.  You should have hit me, Jake.  I think you’d look good behind bars.  I think orange is your colour.”
Gwen and Juno laughed cruelly.
“Why don’t you run along back to your slut librarian, Jake?” said Cat.  “I’m sure if you ask her nicely she’ll let you hit *her*.  She looks like the kind of whore that likes a man to push her around a little, don’t you think?  Maybe she’ll let you pay to fuck her, Jake.  She’ll need the money, once the school *fires* her.”
Jake almost did hit her, right then.  His fist was clenched.  His muscles were straining.
“You’re a bitch, Cat,” he said quietly.  “You’re an evil cunt, and some day you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”
“The only things coming to me are success, limp dick,” said Cat.  “Some day I’m going to be *president* of this country, and you and your slut librarian and that whore Amy you hang around with, and all your other queer skank friends, will learn their proper places.”
The bell rang.  It was time for class.
“So long, Jake,” said Cat.  “Enjoy your new library.  My mom will make sure there are *extra* copies of the Bible in it - just for you.”
And with that, she turned and left, with her two friends following her.
Jake watched her go.  And he knew that he *wasn’t* going to use his power for the rest of that week.  
Because he needed Madison.  He needed to *learn*.  
Because he was going to destroy Cat.  He knew there was a way to do it - there must be.  And he was going to find it, and he was going to visit every humiliation on her that he could possibly imagine.

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