Wirtman Gets It in the End

James turned the knob on Sharon's front door and boldly strode in, letting the door close behind him. He brazenly walked through the entry way and into the living room, stopping less than 10 feet from his Bitchy boss and her stupid husband. He waited for either to notice him, and when they did not, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Feeling euphoric, James spent some time in the living room, trying different things, playing with his new toys. James made Harry clap his hands and Sharon rub her belly. Then he made Sharon rub Harry's belly while Harry clapped his hands. He made Sharon think she had to go to the bathroom, but got her lost when she tried to find her way out of the living room. He made Harry think the television had gotten really dark, and chortled as Harry squinted and leaned closer to the screen trying to see it.

Inspired, James returned Harry to the couch and decided to try adjusting their attitudes. He started pushing hateful thoughts at the pair, attempting to push them into their minds where they would feel them, rather than robotically parrot them.

"I hate you so much you fucking bitch." Harry said to his wife in a conversational tone.

"You are such a fucking wimp" Sharon replied in a bored tone.

"You have a dried up dusty cunt" Harry noted.

"I deserve to be raped by the dog. Then I will kill myself." Sharon replied.

James was disappointed. He was able to make Sharon and Harry say anything that he wanted, but he was not able to make them believe it, that same old limitation. His earlier successes had given him hope, but something in his victim's minds was off limits. He could enforce an idea such as "Do not notice this man" but he could not enforce and idea such as "I hate my husband".

James pondered, and absently had Harry to slap Sharon, leaving a mark that rapidly began turning into a bruise on the side of her face. Amused, James reached out again, this time having Sharon punch Harry in his flabby paunch as hard as she could, making him wheeze a bit. James kept this up for a bit, having the two of them beat on each other while they otherwise sat placidly watching TV. It was fun, in a juvenile sort of way, but it was not having any more impact on their minds than the verbal stuff had. After a while he gave up.

He stretched out his power again, viewing Sharon and Harry as minds, rather than people. Like before, he saw them as smoky orbs. He could see vague outlines of things in their depths, but he could not penetrate past the outer limits. He realized that everything he did was just on the surface. Thoughts, impulses, and emotions swirled deeper in, tantalizing him, but he could not reach them or change them. Even when he managed to bring them to the surface where he could work on them, they reverted when they sank back in.

Suddenly frustrated beyond reason, James growled, stepped forward, and slapped Sharon hard across her breasts. Sharon gasped in pain and her eyes teared up, but she still ignored him, obeying the compulsion that kept him invisible. In his frustration, this infuriated him rather than pleased him, and rather than dropping the compulsion, James drew a fist back, ready to pound her himself; but then he suddenly reconsidered.

Sharon, despite being a bitch, was not an unattractive woman. She was mid-forties, blond hair with a bit of gray mixed in. She was a bit heavy in the middle, but she had decently sized breasts and the firm legs and ass that came from regular walks on a treadmill. She normally wore professional clothing in the office, projecting an image of being stern and forbidding, but here at home she was wearing her hair down and her comfortable button down pajama top and pajama pants. The overall effect was somehow softer, more approachable, more like a woman.

The sudden realization struck the sexually inexperienced James hard, and Instead of punching her James reached down and began unbuttoning her pajama top with trembling hands. Sharon craned her neck to see the TV around him, still ignoring him.

As he opened her shirt, James realized that he was getting really turned on at the unreal feeling of undressing a woman without her knowledge. He had never really gone in for the thought of raping a woman before, but tonight was different, tonight he was the one in control, and he could do anything he wanted to.

As he finished with her buttons, he opened her top, revealing the smooth pale upper skin of her tits flowing into her lacy bra. James grabbed her tits, bra and all, and began stroking them, feeling the silk of her bra and the rough lump of her nipples beneath. He fumbled with the cups, trying to drag them out of the way or find the hook to take her bra off, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Sharon smoothly leaned forward and unclasped her bra from behind, freeing her tits for James to see.

Why had she done that? Had James unconsciously succeeded in controlling her? It did not feel like the other times he had made people do things, it felt normal, natural. He was connected to her and he had wanted her bra off. Had that made her want to have her bra off too? Or was it a simple reaction to circumstance? Her shirt was off, someone was feeling her tits up, and so she wanted to have her bra off.

As her boob-flesh spilled forth, freeing her dark-pink nipples, Sharon leaned back into the couch. James watched her closely, but she still wasn't paying any attention to him. James reached out and cupped her tits in both hands again, feeling her stiff nipples poking into his fingers without the bra in the way. He handled her roughly, but she was still under the compulsion to ignore him. The compulsion held, but she still obviously enjoying the sensation of her tits being played with, and she moaned softly.

Harry was also still ignoring James, but he was not ignoring Sharon any longer. Harry was eyeing his wife's tits more and the TV less, and as he shifted in his seat a bit, James could tell that Harry had a hard-on.

As James watched, Harry reached over, grabbed his wife's tit, leaned forward, and began licking the nipple, exactly the way James had been thinking about doing it. Again, this felt different than when he forced people to do things, it felt normal and natural. Sharon giggled and pulled him closer, sighing and running her hands over his head and back. James groaned and nearly reached for her other tit, but he suddenly felt his connection to Sharon and Harry unraveling. He snapped into focus, his libido forgotten, and quickly reestablished the compulsion that made him invisible.

James growled in frustration as Harry and Sharon continued to get more intimate with each other. He was furious with himself! He had come here for revenge, not to fuck his Bitch Boss! He had definitely not come here to help her get her laid by her husband!

He briefly considered dropping the compulsion that was keeping them from noticing him and doing something to really punish them both, or at least doing something to stop the activity they were currently engaged in, but he was afraid that he might not be able to control them if he did. Harry was bigger than James, and if Harry got his hands on him, James might not be able to fend him off and keep Sharon from calling the cops at the same time, landing him in an even bigger mess than had been at work.

In the meantime, Harry and Sharon were getting deeper and deeper into their love making, and James realized that despite the dark turn of his thoughts, watching them was turning him on again. He suddenly had an inspiration about a way to get revenge and get some ass for himself at the same time.

With a cruel grin, James pushed his will into Sharon and Harry again, using it to compel them to strengthen their lustful emotions. As the two began frantically pawing each other and removing clothing, he turned toward the stairs... It was time to check on the third occupant of the house, Sharon's daughter.

-

Alice was sitting on her bed, struggling with studying her AP Chemistry book, when she suddenly had the feeling that she was not alone. She glanced up and looked around but did not see anyone in the room with her, but she noticed that her door was now open; even though she was sure she had closed it earlier.

Alice felt a prickle up her spine as she felt eyes on her. She tried to ignore the feeling, but when she tried to go back to studying, the open door gnawed on her consciousness, she felt exposed somehow.

Sighing, she pulled her earbuds out of her ears and unfolded her slender body, springing up from the bed in a single, graceful movement. Faintly from downstairs, she could hear her mother's low groan of pleasure.

Alice wrinkled her nose. "Ew," she whispered to herself as she closed her door again.

Even with the door closed, she still felt like she was being watched. She looked around the small bedroom she lived in again. There was a fair amount of clutter, but nothing someone could hide in. She was alone in her room with her windows were closed and the blinds pulled tight, not even the dog was in her room.

Underneath her mane of long blond hair, Alice felt her short silky hairs on the back of her neck tingle. Suddenly she felt like her clothes were itchy and restrictive. She felt like it would be a good idea to take a shower. The idea surprised her, it seemed strange to suddenly feel like showering at 7pm, but after a minute she mentally shrugged. As creepy as her room seemed a second ago, maybe a shower would do her good. Clear her mind.

She grabbed her towel off the back of her chair and took a couple of steps toward the door, and then hesitated; she suddenly remembered why she had closed it. Her parents were being gross and having old-people-sex in the living room, if she opened her door, wouldn't she hear them again? She didn't understand how they could be so inconsiderate! God people! Get a room! Maybe it would be a better idea to retreat to her bed and continue studying and burying herself in her music instead?

Then Alice felt something strange, like someone had cupped her left breast and pinched her nipple. The sensation shot through her, and the nipple stiffened immediately. She gasped and was momentarily distracted. In that time, she decided that she really did want a shower; her parents could not keep her hostage in her own house. Besides, it would be nice and refreshing to get out of her clothes.

She walked down the hall to the bathroom at the end, moving slowly and quietly. She valiantly tried to ignore the sounds her parents were making, but failed. She could tell her mother was attempting and failing to stifle her moaning, and she could clearly hear her father softly and rhythmically grunting. It should have been disgusting, but it was kind of arousing her, which served to further disgust her. The mixture of her reaction confused her, she could not recall the sound of her parents making love ever doing anything other than disgusting her before, but this was kind of like listening to a porn movie.

She finally reached the bathroom door, and she bit her lower lip as she carefully closed the door softly behind her. With a mixture of relief and disappointment the sounds of her parents rutting downstairs was cut off.

She turned and started to undress like she always did, but something stopped her. She felt bizarre, like she was looking out of her eyes but someone else was in control. She was staring at herself in the mirror, and then she began swaying as if to inaudible music as her hands began roving over her body seductively. She slowly began loosening clothing and letting herself only peek at bits of her flesh; she teased her clothes off bit by bit, enjoying the slow reveal of her naked body. As she shed her clothes, her excitement built. She felt giddy, warm, and sexy as hell.

It was a very strange experience. Alice had never thought of her naked body as sexy before. Before, when she looked at her body in the mirror, all she could see were the many flaws in her body. She saw that one breast slightly bigger than the other, she noticed that her stomach was bigger than she liked, she worried about how pale and sickly her skin was, to name a few.

Even more to the point, naked women just weren't her thing. She liked to look at men bulging with muscles, hairless bodies, with clear bright eyes that looked intense and slightly menacing. That was the kind of thing that turned her on usually.

However, this time, for whatever reason, the sight of her stripping had her mesmerized; she could not help but see her gentle curves, her smooth skin, the cute way her pussy lips bulged and reddened the more aroused she got, and the way her breasts were pert and firm. Was she turning gay?

The strip-tease eventually ended, but she still felt odd. She felt intense and slightly out of control, like she was drunk or drugged. She stood with her eyes closed now, moving her hands over her body, caught in the sensations that her soft hands called up from her silky skin. Strangely, she felt like she had four hands, then she felt like she was two women, and one was now using her mouth on the other. She felt first a tongue and then gentle teeth on her body, nibbling her nipples, then moving lower to her belly button, then to her outer labia, and then slowly to her clitoris.

The imaginary mouth was inexpert, as she imagined her own might be, but it lapped at her gender with enthusiasm and insistence. It was so real! She could hardly believe this was her imagination! In her mind she looked down to find her own naked body crouched before her standing naked body, eating herself out and sensually stroking her naked skin.

Suddenly it was too much and she crescendoed in a massively intense orgasm, easily the most intense she had ever had. Sensations and colors seeming to flow across her skin, carrying her mind away. She thought she must have cried out in abandon, but she could not focus on anything but the sensations flowing through her. She clutched the sink, desperately fighting to keep her knees from buckling entirely.

Then she found herself in the shower, the warm water washing over her body like the fingers of a lover. She groaned at the sensation and leaned against the wall. More time passed. She found herself lathered with sweet scented soap, but did not remember applying it. She ran her hands over her slippery body, reveling in the pure sensation. She had another orgasm, but had no idea where it had come from.

Alice, like any other healthy, attractive 18 year old girl had had boyfriends before, and she loved sex. However, her boyfriends had been boys, too immature to really convince her to go "all the way" with them and she was still a virgin. Her boyfriends had touched her and teased her plenty, but they always ejaculated before she was done, and she had never had an orgasm that she had not given herself... She had certainly never cum twice in a row before!

This was a totally new experience for her; she had never known it was possible to be this aroused! She let the water rush over her some more, relaxing and sensual. The warm water was growing colder, but she did not care. She basked in the afterglow, the cool water swirling around her body and washing her cares down the drain.

After taking a moment to rest, she got out of the shower. She grabbed her towel and wrapped its soft fabric around her body, encasing her warm, wet, smooth skin. Time went wonky again, the touch of the towel seemed to be so sensual, and she felt her libido starting to stir again. She held the towel, looking at the blur she made in the foggy mirror, feeling the towel's soft touch on her body, the cooling water dripped from her flesh onto the floor. She could feel the softness all over her body, and the smell of her arousal hung thick in the air... then she found herself back in her room.

She was now dry, her books were piled on the floor, and she was lying on her back on her bed, legs wide apart. She felt SO HORNY! Once, while snooping in her parent's room, she had found a huge dildo in her mother's night stand. Its presence had deeply disgusted and embarrassed her. Now however, she wished she had it in her hand and she briefly thought longingly of going and grabbing it, but she could not seem to muster herself to move from this spot.

It would be better yet to have her boyfriend Drew's dick in her hands again. She groaned as she remembered how he had urged her to put it in her mouth last night. She had been disgusted by the request, but she had done it anyway. Now, however, she longed for another chance. She moaned and stroked her sex as she thought about taking his dick, warm and firm, into her mouth and savoring its salty flavor...

-

James stood in the girl's room, watching the sexy teenager lying before him on the bed. He watched her gyrating on the bed, panting with the effort it took to maintain enough self-control over his power so that he could stay invisible.

From downstairs he could hear that her parents had finally climaxed and finished. They had nearly passed out on their own anyway, so James sent them the same sleep command he had sent the dog earlier. Their minds, overloaded by the lust they had just shared, resisted no more than the dog had. He felt slightly refreshed after being freed of the obligation to keep them from noticing him, grateful that he had some extra attention to focus on the slut before him.

His power had reacted differently with her that it had with anyone else he had tried it on. She was not weak and malleable like the dog, nor was she hard and impenetrable like her parents or the people at work. Instead she was supple, flexible. She was boiling over with repressed sexuality, and it took almost no urging on his part for the power to draw it out. Once drawn out, her fertile imagination stepped in, and shaped a plausible reality for herself, making it easy for him to step out of the way and peer into those fantasies like a voyeur.

The danger was that it was so easy to not remain separate. In the bathroom he had moved into her fantasy. He had wanted to touch her and molest her so badly, that he had stepped in and tried to take control of her fantasy, but instead her fantasy had nearly overwhelmed him. He had lost control for a while, actually becoming a clone of her and responding to her will instead of his own. This frightened him, and when that fantasy had ended, he had been too frightened to join her in the shower afterward.

James was not sexually experienced, and the overwhelming carnality of the situation was quickly overwhelming his emotional controls, despite his frightening experience. He had come here for revenge, he reminded himself, and he wasn't going to be a pussy. Next time, she would bend to his fantasy, not the other way around!

He was here for hatred's sake! He had come upstairs fully intending to user her like a cum-rag, a disposable sack of meat for him to take his pleasure in. He would use her and wipe her memory of him, leave her sore and covered in semen with no knowledge of how it had come about. He would force her to do the most depraved, shameful things. Then he would come back tomorrow and do it all again. And then again the next night if that was what it took to sate him!

He stood over her, naked; his hard dick was warm and throbbing in his hand. James approached the side of the bed. Tenderness forgotten as his crueler side re-emerged. The smell of her sex was overpowering, and the taste of her still filed his mouth.

The slut was on her back, legs thrown wide, her hands were vigorously flicking her slit and her legs were waggling in the air with the effort. She occasionally moaned, but mostly she grunted like a pig.

He sent another compulsion, preventing the girl from making herself cum, only allowing her to lightly touch herself on her outer pussy lips. She moaned in frustration and the humping motion of her hips increased for a moment, but she obeyed.