Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 19

Annabel slept late, and by the time she woke up her husband was already gone, having left for another multi-day business trip. Going downstairs she was shocked to discover that Carla had gotten up before her and was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee.

A look passed between them and, remembering what had transpired in the kitchen the day before, Annabel flushed crimson. All the same, she felt a tingle between her legs and wondered if they might be able to pick up where they had left off. But Carla, after politely pouring her stepmother a cup of java, went upstairs to shower.

When Annabel returned to her bedroom after having breakfast she found Carla going through her closet. Carla had some plans for the day, and wanted Annabel to look just so. She had already laid out a black thong, a red lace bra, and long black-and-red striped socks. Now Annabel watched as Carla went through her wardrobe and picked out her skimpiest, most revealing halter top and her shortest skirt — one she’d bought in a moment of impulsive boldness and never actually dared to wear.

Carla untied Annabel’s robe and let it drop to the floor. Standing there naked, Annabel felt her nipples stiffen and her pussy moisten, but at the moment Carla was all business. After helping her get dressed, Carla stepped back and looked her up and down appraisingly. “Not bad,” she said. “Not bad at all.”

Catching herself in the mirror, Annabel had to admit that she looked hot, if a bit cheap. The straps and sides of the bra were visible under her top, but it made for a sort of saucy, devil-may-care effect. A lot of thigh was visible under the tiny skirt, and Annabel tried to tug it down, but Carla stopped her.

Taking out her phone, Carla snapped a picture and sent Annabel off to shower. Once Annabel was gone, Carla started tapping away at her phone with an evil smile on her face. She could feel herself getting juicy between the legs just thinking about what she had planned.

When Annabel came back into the room, naked and wet, Carla was tempted to rip her towel off and have some fun before they left. But she controlled herself and helped Annabel get dressed, trying to make her look just as she had before.

It was just before noon when they climbed into Carla’s car, put the top down, and headed down the coast. It was a gorgeous day and Carla blasted the Rolling Stones as they rolled south through Santa Monica to Marina Del Rey. There they stopped at a busy grocery store and Carla insisted that Annabel come inside with her to get a few things.

Really, Carla just wanted to make Annabel walk around in public looking as slutty as she did. She enjoyed watching the heads turn; every man in the place and quite a few of the women swiveled to look at them. All of a sudden Carla felt jealous that Annabel might be getting more attention than her. She checked out their reflection in a display case. 

Carla thought she looked sexy, though she was dressed relatively conservatively in a peasant skirt and blouse. But she was definitely put in the shade by all the skin Annabel was showing. Well, thought Carla, I guess that's what I wanted, isn't it?

Returning to the car, they continued heading south, passing through Manhattan Beach and finally pulling up in front of a small house in Hermosa Beach. As they drove Carla casually rested her hand on Annabel’s knee, occasionally running it up her thigh and between her legs. As a result, Annabel’s panties were soaking wet by the time they arrived.

At the door Carla knocked twice, then once, then twice again; after a short interval the door opened. The woman who appeared was in her late 20s, with long, light brown hair and striking ice-blue eyes. She beckoned them inside and closed the door, carefully locking several locks behind them.

“Katya,” said Carla as they hugged. “So good to see you again.”

“My favorite customer,” purred Katya in a husky, Russian-accented voice. “You stay away so long.”

“I know,” replied Carla. “I missed you too.”

Looking behind Carla, Katya saw Annabel standing there, looking awkward and out of place. “So this is your machekha? Remind me of the English word.”

"Stepmother.”

Katya looked Annabel up and down. “You know, when you sent me that picture I thought, this cannot be for real.”

“Oh, she’s for real, alright,” said Carla. “And she’ll do anything you want her to.”

Katya cocked an eyebrow. “Anything? Hmmm, we'll see. But first, we have a smoke."

Katya opened the top of her coffee table and pulled out an enormous ziploc bag full of purple-green buds. Annabel recognized the overpowering smell immediately; she’d smoked a few times back in college, though she’d never really seen what the big deal was.

“Voodoo,” said Katya. “Straight from Humboldt County.”

Katya and Carla sat on the couch, while Carla gestured for Annabel to be seated in the overstuffed chair across from them. Katya got out a huge green glass water pipe, filled it, and pushed it over to Carla. 

Carla lit up and drew on the pipe for what seemed to Annabel like an incredibly long time, held the smoke in her lungs for a few seconds, and breathed out an impressive white cloud. Katya whistled approvingly and grabbed the bong; after taking a hit she offered it to Annabel, who shook her head no. Katya shrugged and returned the pipe to Carla.

For awhile they just sat and smoked, Carla and Katya catching up on what had happened in their lives since they saw each other last. Both of them more or less ignored Annabel, who sat there studying the house and the woman who lived in it. It was a surprisingly spacious interior, airy and well-appointed, but the atmosphere had just a hint of oppressiveness. All the windows were covered, making the house somewhat dim even at midday.

There was some very strange art on the walls, much of it sexually graphic. There was a picture of a maid spanking her mistress; one of two women fingering each other; one of a nun, bent over with her habit lifted, being flogged by another nun. Annabel realized that she was starting to get a little excited; she also realized that she was getting high just from being in the room, and not in a way that she was used to. Anything she had experienced before paled in comparison.

Looking over at Katya, Annabel found herself focusing in on the Russian’s lips. They were plump and juicy, accented with scarlet-red lipstick, but there was also a certain hardness in Katya’s mouth, just a hint of cruelty. In this it was not unlike Carla’s.

Eyes traveling downward, Annabel saw that Katya was dressed entirely in black, wearing leather boots, skinny jeans, and a tight T-shirt that showed off an impressive set of boobs. Two hard nipples were visible underneath, and Annabel found her eyes locked on them as Katya came toward her. 

Taking Annabel’s chin in her hands, Katya lifted her head and looked into her eyes. Annabel was mesmerized. The Russian woman’s eyes were intelligent, uncompromising, penetrating. Annabel felt like Katya knew everything she was thinking.

Katya took Annabel’s hand and helped her to a standing position. “Come with me, machekha.”