A slow burn.

Kristen woke up with sunlight streaming through her blinds. Seemingly oblivious to her lack of power, in more ways then one, she shuffled off to her en suite bath and squatted over the bowl, now drained bone dry. She seemed to be confused by the sound of her piss hitting porcelain instead of water, but it was too late, and soon her nonfuncational toilet was redcuced to a vase of shit. Finally, her failure to flush alerted her that something might be wrong. Try as she might to turn the taps she couldn't get a trickle. She then seemed to realize that she was nude. Waking up like that didn’t seem to be too much of a shock to the slut, but having not a scrap of textile except her slutty wardrobe seemed to give her a panic attack. Walking from the closet through the bathroom she now missed her towels, even her wash rag, shower curtain and bathmat! Attempting to shed more light on the situation illuminated to her that her power was out. Surely all ten of the oversized bulbs that lined her vanity couldn’t all be out.

Her phone, she checked with a rapid and frustrated taps, stone dead.

Kristen was confused, and sat down on her couch. Unfortunately for her, I had also taken her toilet paper to prevent her covering up. This had the double bonus of leaving a humiliating stain when she got up from the formerly white fabric.

“OH, SHIT!” She cried appropriately.

Poor Kristen was going out of her mind, and my invisibility and inaudibility gave me a front row seat. I laughed, I wasn’t even actively screwing with her and she was fucking up. I wondered how she would ever get out of the house, and could see so was she, but are the readers?