Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 3

In a state of shock, Annabel threw herself onto the bed and and stared at the ceiling. Her mind was a tangle of conflicting emotions: fear, shame, confusion, excitement.

She knew, in theory, that girls sometimes did sexual things together. But she’d never experienced it directly before. Did having seen what she’d seen make her a bad person somehow? She felt like her whole world had been turned upside down. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing, her crotch throbbing in a way that felt good but also frightening.

She stayed in bed for the whole rest of the afternoon as the sun gradually faded away. At one point she heard voices downstairs, then a door closing and a car starting as Kim left. She heard Carla moving around in the house and wondered how she could ever look her stepdaughter in the eye again after what had happened.

As evening came on Annabel heard Carla downstairs in the kitchen, and realized that she was starving. She tried not to think about it, and the harder she tried the hungrier she got. After awhile she stood up, opened the bedroom door, and stood at the top of the stairs. Something smelled wonderful: onion, garlic, tomato, oregano.

Annabel realized that she couldn’t avoid Carla indefinitely. Sooner or later they were going to have to come face to face, and it might as well be now. She took a deep breath and made her way down the stairs.

In the kitchen she found Carla, now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, making pasta with marinara sauce. Carla greeted her matter-of-factly, seemingly preoccupied with her sauce, to which she now added a splash of red wine. Annabel could feel herself blushing, thinking of what she’d witnessed that afternoon. But Carla didn’t appear to notice, allowing Annabel to maintain a veneer of normality, for which she was grateful. She could see that the food was almost ready, so she got out plates, and in a few minutes they were sitting at the dining room table, eating and drinking wine.

They ate in silence for the most part. Annabel didn't know what to say, and Carla's mind seemed to be elsewhere. A few times their eyes met, and Carla gave Annabel a look that pierced her to her very soul. It was a look that said, “I know everything about you. I know more about you than you know about yourself.” After it had happened a few times, Annabel stopped looking up from her plate. It was more than she knew how to handle.

After dinner they loaded the dishwasher and Carla went to the bathroom. Annabel wandered into the living room and flipped on the television, paying no attention at all to what was on, just watching the pixels dance and trying not to think.

Suddenly Carla was standing in front of her, blocking out the TV. Annabel’s eyes started at Carla’s jeans and gradually moved up to her face, pausing momentarily at her breasts, which were well-displayed by her tight black T-shirt. She was standing there smiling down at Annabel, or was it sneering? Her expression was confident, unflinching, with a hint of cruelty.

For a long moment they just looked at each other. Annabel’s heart throbbed in her chest. Something was happening here... but what?

“I saw you watching us this afternoon,” said Carla. “Did you like what you saw?”

Annabel didn’t know how to respond, but she felt like she had to say something, so she just stuttered, “I... I....”

Carla put a finger to Annabel’s lips to silence her. “It’s OK,” she said.

Annabel immediately felt warm inside, relaxed, at peace. In a way it was surprising when Carla leaned down to kiss her. And in another way it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

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