An entire week without using his newfound power was torture for Jake.

 

On one view, obviously he had gone 18 entire years without using it, so a week wasn’t a big deal.  

 

But to now know that he had this skill - this “Silver Leash” that held power over the minds and lust of women - and to not even be able to test what he could do with it… it was pure agony.

 

It was particularly tested on his third day back at school, when Amy came to find him at lunch time.

 

She had avoided him all the first two days.  He had not shared any classes with her in that time, and he had only seen her from a distance - a glimpse of her brown hair here, the swell of her breasts beneath her school blouse there, the curve of her leg as it vanished beneath her skirt seen briefly through a crowd.

 

When he tried to approach her, she vanished, and he assumed, glumly, that he had ruined their friendship.  His curt dismissal of her sexual advances at his birthday party had offended her.  Or, worse, she had perhaps sensed what he had done to her - violating her mind (however accidentally) to place shameful new lusts in it.  

 

Either way, clearly she hated him now, and he would have to live with that.

 

But on Wednesday, Jake was eating his lunch alone on the rear stone steps of the science building when Amy came over, head down, blushing, and sat next to him.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, before he could say anything.  She still wasn’t looking at him, but the closeness of her made him tingle.  She was wearing a new perfume, he thought - something subtle, but which made him awkwardly conscious of her nearness.

 

“Sorry?” he asked her.  “What for?”

 

“Don’t make me say it,” she said.  He couldn’t see her eyes, but her cheeks were bright red.

 

He was baffled.

 

“I honestly have no idea, Amy,” he said.  “You haven’t done anything to me.  What are you possibly sorry for?”

 

She was silent for a long moment, and then, quietly, she said, “For acting like a slut.”

 

He was struck silent, trying to process this confession, but Amy must have taken his silence for an unwillingness to accept her apology, so she went on.

 

“I know you’re just a friend and that you don’t want anything more,” she said.  “And your friendship means so much to me, Jake.  I know that’s all it is.  I *know* it.  And I don’t know why I acted like that at your party, and I don’t know why I said what I said, and… and I’m so sorry I fucked everything up.  By being a slut.”

 

She looked up at him, and he saw that her eyes were filled with tears.

 

“And I know that you don’t respect me now,” she said, sniffling, “and I know you think I’m just a skank or something now, but I really am sorry.  And I just wanted you to know that.”

 

The sight of her crying nearly broke Jake’s heart.

 

“Amy,” he said.  “No - no, it’s not like that.  I don’t - I mean, I think the world of you.  I don’t think you’re a slut.  When you asked me to…” - he lowered his voice - “... to touch your boobs, it was - it was a privilege.”  He blushed, and added, “You have amazing boobs.”

 

That made her blush, too, but at least she had stopped crying.

 

“And I *am* your friend,” he went on, “but it’s not like I’ve, you know, never thought of you that way.  You’re… you’re really pretty.”  Then he corrected himself.  “Sexy.  Gorgeous.  Fuck, I don’t know what to say.”

 

She was still blushing, but smiling now.  “Those are pretty good words,” she said, quietly.

 

“It was just that it was so sudden,” he said.  “And there was alcohol and - and I couldn’t be sure you meant it, and I didn’t want to ruin things between us, and…”  

 

He gave up, and shrugged, hoping it was enough.

 

Her eyes were shining now as she looked at him.  She looked so beautiful - vulnerable, hopeful, sexy.

 

“So you *do* like me that way?” she asked him.  “Or… you could?”

 

“I mean, sure,” said Jake awkwardly.  Was this happening?  Was he about to ask Amy on a date - or be asked by her?  It was certainly something that he had dreamed about.

 

“Because,” she continued - and then blushed, and looked down again, and trailed off.

 

“Because what?” Jake asked.

 

She was silent, and then - “Because I still have those feelings, about wanting you to touch my breasts.”

 

Jake’s heart sank.  This wasn’t what he had wanted.

 

“I can’t, Amy,” he said, in a flat voice.

 

“Why?” she asked, in a desperate, plaintive voice.  “It’s okay, really.”

 

“Amy, stop it,” he said.  He didn’t want it.  Not like this.

 

“I keep thinking about it, Jake,” Amy insisted.  “I dream about it.  It’s like it’s stuck in my head and I need it.”

 

“No,” said Jake, louder now, preparing to stand up and leave.

 

“Why not?” asked Amy.

 

Jake was silent.  He could feel his own tears coming.

 

“Jake - WHY NOT?” demanded Amy.

 

“BECAUSE I DID THIS TO YOU,” shouted Jake.

 

He instantly regretted it.  He looked around to see who might have heard - but this part of the school was rarely used.  They had privacy.  No one had overheard.

 

Amy was looking at him with a hurt, baffled expression.  “What the fuck, Jake?” she whispered.

 

Jake hadn’t intended this conversation.  He didn’t think Madison would have wanted him to talk about this.  But Madison had also wanted him to behave ethically, and if he truly cared about Amy then she had a right to know what he had done to her.

 

“You’re not going to believe this, Amy,” he said, “but I swear it’s the truth.”

 

“You look so serious, Jake,” said Amy.  “Whatever it is, I’ll believe it.”

 

“You know the headache I had on my birthday?” he asked.

 

She nodded.

 

“Well, it was because I have this power inside me,” he said.  “Like… a telepathic power.  I know that sounds insane.  But it happened for the first time on my birthday.  By accident, I swear.  I didn’t mean to.  But it lets me reach into women and… do things to their sexuality.  Connect things with, like…”

 

He trailed off - but to his surprise, Amy finished his sentence.

 

“A silver leash,” she breathed.

 

“How did you know?” he demanded.

 

“I can feel it,” she said.  “Like a tether, between two ideas in my brain. One is you, and the other is my breasts.  Or the feeling of having my breasts squeezed, anyway.  It felt weird, that this idea came out of nowhere, so strongly, but I didn’t question it, because - well, when kinks happen, they just happen, I guess.”

 

She blushed, and then added, “And anyway, I *did* already like you…”

 

“So you believe me?” he asked her.

 

She looked at him.

 

“Jake,” she said, “as long as I have known you, you have never, ever lied to me.  Not even for a joke.  And even if that weren’t the case, I can see how serious you’re being right now.  Sure, it sounds crazy - but I can feel that leash inside me, now that you’ve said it.  And I am completely convinced that *you* believe it - so I believe it too.”

 

He felt like he might collapse with relief.

 

“It was an accident,” he said.  “I really didn’t mean to do that to you.  Do you believe that, too?”

 

She reached out and took her hand between his, cradling it, looking into his eyes.  The way she was leaning forward made it distractingly difficult not to notice her cleavage, visible through two open buttons of her blouse.

 

“Of course I believe it, Jake,” she said.  She smiled, and then said, “So, can you fix it?”

 

He shook his head sadly.  “No,” he said.  “At least, not without probably hurting you.  I think you’re stuck with it.  I’m so sorry.”

 

They were both silent for a while.  Amy wasn’t looking at him now.  She was gazing out towards the blue sky beyond the school fences.

 

Eventually she spoke.  “What else can you do with it?” she asked.

 

“I… don’t know how much I should say,” said Jake.  “I want to tell you, really, but there’s… someone who’s going to help me with this, and they’ve told me I have to not use it all this week, to show that I have self-control.  And they didn’t really say anything about not telling anyone, but they did kind of imply it was a secret.”

 

“Jake, you are not very good at keeping secrets,” laughed Amy.

 

“No, I guess not,” said Jake bashfully.

 

“You know,” said Amy thoughtfully, “as I see it, this means that there’s no reason that you can’t squeeze my tits if you really want to.”  She paused, and then added, “In fact, as I see it, you’re basically *obligated* to.”

 

“How do you figure?” asked Jake.

 

“Well, you gave me this… kink, or whatever,” said Amy.  “And I’m stuck with it.  You can’t fix it.  I’m going to keep fantasising about you squeezing my breasts so hard that I moan, and dreaming about it, and… whatever.  So I know you think it’s not ethical to take advantage of these feelings, because you put them in my head, but at this stage don’t you think it’s crueller to keep denying me?”

 

Jake blushed.  He hadn’t thought about it that way.  It made a certain amount of sense.  And every time Amy mentioned her tits, he could feel his cock twitch in his pants, and yes, he wanted to reach out and squeeze her boobs so much that it hurt.  

 

But gaining the benefit of violating Amy - however accidentally - was still wrong.  Wasn’t it?

 

“It’s really all right, Jake,” said Amy - and she scooched closer to him on the bench as she did so, until her shoulder was touching his.  “You know, if you’d asked me if you could touch my boobs *before* you did this silver leash thing, I would have said yes.”

 

Did she mean that?  Or was she just saying it because he had made her desperate for this to happen, and she would say whatever it took to make it happen?

 

“I don’t know…” he mumbled.

 

She looked at him, a speculative look.  

 

And then she said: “Fine.  You think that you’ve overborne my self-control?  That I’d ask you to touch my tits even if at some level I really hated that idea?  Then I’ll prove that it’s my choice.”

 

She grinned - and buttoned up the top two buttons of her blouse.

 

“I *do* want you to play with my tits, Jake,” she said.  “I want you to grab them and squeeze them, to stroke them, and pinch the nipples, and suck on them.  I want you to slap them and hurt them and use them as handles so you can pull me towards you and kiss me.”

 

She bit her lip, cutely, and then continued.

 

“But I’m not going to let you.”

 

Jake almost groaned, involuntarily.  Her words had painted a surpassingly erotic picture in his mind, and his cock was rock hard, and he had been just about to say that yes, she had convinced him, he would love to squeeze her breasts.

 

“Satisfy this mysterious teacher of yours that you can control yourself,” said Amy, “and at the same time I’ll show you that *I* can control myself.  I won’t mention my tits again until next week.  It will be hard - the fantasy is occupying a *lot* of my brain - but I’ll manage it.  And then next week you can tell me *everything* about this ‘silver leash’ of yours - and if you still want to feel up my breasts, you can do whatever you want with them, knowing that if I didn’t want it to happen I have the ability to say so.”

 

And with that, she stood, and smiled, and left…

 

… leaving Jake with a hard, frustrated cock, and a mind that couldn’t think of anything except Amy’s swelling teenaged tits.

 

Turnabout was fair play, he supposed, but it didn’t stop him punching his schoolbag with frustration, and then missing the first class after lunch in order to frantically “relieve the pressure” in one of the boys’ toilet stalls.

 

(TO BE CONTINUED)