Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 11

The difference was that this time, Carla had pushed a red ball gag into Annabel’s mouth, fastened it around her head, and left the room. For some indeterminate time Annabel lay there staring at the ceiling, cursing her weakness. 

Her attempt to break free of Carla’s spell had ended before it even began. In the early afternoon, when Carla came downstairs looking glamorously disheveled, Annabel had automatically started to make coffee and eggs. After having repeatedly practiced what she was going to say the night before, she found that she couldn’t get out a single word of it.

When Carla had finished eating Annabel stood by, waiting to be told what to do. She expected to be made to kneel on the kitchen floor again, and was disappointed when the order never came. Instead Carla disappeared upstairs while Annabel puttered around in the kitchen.

About an hour later Annabel’s phone buzzed and she got a text. It consisted of four words: “My room. Naked. Now.”

Annabel couldn’t believe it – the nerve of the girl. Who did Carla think she was? It was completely outrageous and – wait – why was she doing it? Why did she go to her bedroom, take off her clothes, and lay them down on her dresser? Why did she appear at Carla’s door and meekly submit to being bound hand and foot to the bed, then having nipple clamps snapped onto her throbbing buds?

She asked herself all these questions as she lay there alone. But she knew the answer: This is what happens when you give up control of your own life. You end up tied naked to a bed with no idea what’s going to happen to you next.

It was hard for Annabel to say how long she had been there; her sense of time felt unreliable and Carla apparently did not believe in clocks. Finally, after what seemed like hours but may have only been 15 minutes, Annabel heard the front door open and close, and then there were voices downstairs. She heard movement in the kitchen, and then there were footsteps on the stairs – two sets.

Carla appeared in the doorway with Kim, both of them holding bottles of beer. “Oh, my,” said Kim, seeing Annabel tied up there. “Is that for me?”

“If you want her,” said Carla. “I don't have much more use for her.” This wasn’t true, of course; Carla had lots more in mind for Annabel. But giving Annabel the idea that she might get bored gave Carla psychological leverage. Not that she really needed it at this point — Annabel was hers to do with as she pleased, she felt sure of that — but you could never have too much, especially since Carla intended to push her stepmother as far as possible. 

For Carla this was sort of a perfect storm. Not only was Annabel incredibly gorgeous and unusually pliant, the fact that she was Carla’s father's wife gave Carla a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to do something really, really naughty. She intended to make the most of it.

 

* * *

Kim was wearing a tank top and bikini bottoms, but within in a minute they were on the ground and she was straddling Annabel, looking down into the older woman’s big blue eyes. “You’re really pretty,” said Kim, and Annabel responded with something that was muffled by her gag. Kim giggled and pulled it out. “What were you saying?”

“I said, thank you,” said Annabel.

“You’re welcome. Do you think I’m pretty?” Annabel nodded. “Good,” said Kim. She cupped her breasts in both hands. ”Would you like to suck these titties?”

Annabel looked over at Carla, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes, please,” murmured Annabel, and she meant it; Kim had the most perfectly beautiful light pink nipples, and Annabel wanted to see what they would taste like. Or was she just channeling what Carla wanted her to do? It was hard to tell.

Kim brought one breast down to Annabel’s mouth and let her have at it. It was smaller than Annabel expected, her only previous experience having been with Carla’s quite large ones. She was able to fit almost the whole thing into her mouth.

After a few minutes Kim popped that breast out of Annabel’s mouth and replaced it with the other one, reaching down to explore Annabel’s pussy with one hand. “She’s soaking wet,” said Kim to Carla. “It’s kind of a mess down here.” Sitting up a little, Kim pushed the three middle fingers of her right hand into Annabel’s mouth. “Clean those off,” she said.

Annabel obediently licked and sucked her own fluids off Kim’s hand. When she was done, Kim clambered further up on the bed and knelt with her crotch right over Annabel’s face. “Do you want to taste this pussy?”

Annabel again looked over at Carla, who stared back impassively. She wanted Annabel to figure out what to do without having to be told. But it was a rhetorical question anyway. Kim gripped the back of Annabel’s head with both hands and dropped her crotch down onto Annabel’s mouth.

So this was Annabel’s second pussy. It tasted similar to Carla’s in a lot of ways, but also different. Annabel would have had a hard time naming the flavors; she’d never been good at wine tasting either. The sensation of Kim’s smooth, shaved pubis was novel; it was soft against Annabel’s nose and several times she ran her tongue along the silky expanse of skin there.

Carla sat sipping her beer as she watched Kim ride Annabel’s face, idly reaching down with one hand to rub her own crotch through her jeans.

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