When the party finally
broke up and Diana and the actresses took off, Carla went to bed but
found herself tossing and turning, unable to sleep. She went to the
liquor cabinet and poured herself a glass of straight vodka, hoping it
would help her sleep. When that didn’t work she had another. By the time
she finally managed to drift off, she had done some serious damage to
the bottle.
This morning Daisy had
taken off to work — she worked part-time as a barista to cover
her modest expenses. Carla scrounged around the kitchen for something to
eat but came up empty. So she headed out to a cafe and by the time she
got there, she had come to a decision: She was going home immediately.
It cost her a pretty
penny to change flights, but very rarely did she not do what she wanted
to do because of money. It was the upside of having the father that
she did. She took a cab to the airport, hangover beginning to clear now
that she had some food and coffee in her. It was good to be heading
home.
* * *
Back at the house,
Annabel decided to keep her collar off and lay out in the sun for
awhile, see if she couldn’t fade that tan line a little bit. Carla
wasn’t due back for another day, so she’d never know. Feeling bold,
Annabel pulled off her top and laid out on a lounge chair wearing
nothing but her yoga pants.
After awhile she drifted off to sleep, so she never heard Carla’s car approaching the
house. The sound of the front door startled her awake, though, and
realizing immediately what was happening, she dashed for the house to
get her collar. But it was too late — Carla was standing there in the
hallway in front of her.
“Hi,” said Annabel, overjoyed that Carla was home, but worried about having been caught collarless.
“Hello,” responded
Carla coolly. Then she reached out and grabbed Annabel around the neck where
her collar was supposed to be. “What the hell is this?”
“I, um...” stammered Annabel. “There’s this tan line and....”
Carla held up her hand. “I don’t care.” In truth she was relieved at having been handed a
pretext on which to punish Annabel. She was mad at her stepmother for
making her feel the way she felt, distracting her from what should have
been a great time in San Francisco, and prompting her to cut her trip
short. She didn’t want to admit to Annabel or to herself how strong her
feelings were becoming.
She pulled Annabel
roughly into the living room, stripped her pants off, and bent her over
the ottoman. After using Annabel’s yoga pants to tie her hands behind
her back, Carla opened her suitcase and pulled out the cane she’d been
given. She swished it back and forth the air a couple times so Annabel
could see.
Annabel gulped. This was
a fearsome-looking implement, and while she trusted Carla not to
injure her, she was afraid it was really going to hurt. When the first
blow landed on her ass, she knew she had been right.
* * *
When it was over, and
Annabel lay sprawled across the ottoman with both butt cheeks glowing
bright red, Carla took pity on her and went to get some lotion. This
was by far the hardest that she’d ever punished her stepmother; every
blow had carried all the force of her frustration and confused
feelings. Afterwards, with all the aggression purged from her system,
she felt much better.
Annabel felt better too,
in a way. The caning had hurt like hell, but somehow the severity of
the punishment felt like evidence of how much Carla cared about her.
Coming back into the
room, Carla sat down on the floor and began to rub lotion on Annabel’s
ass. “I actually like the tan line,” she said. “Anywhere you go, it
tells anyone who has eyes to see that you belong to me. Keep it.”
Annabel nodded. The
lotion felt fantastic on her poor tortured derriere, and it felt even
better a few minutes later when Carla put the lotion down, spread her
legs, and began to finger her.
Carla was always amazed
at how wet girls got when you gave them a good spanking. It’s just
something in our nature, she guessed. Annabel moaned and writhed on the
ottoman as Carla finger-fucked her, then bent down and licked along
the back of Annabel’s left leg from the back of her knee up to her ass.
Carla kissed and licked
all around Annabel’s butt, which was still warm from the caning. Then
she nibbled for awhile on Annabel’s inner thighs, nipping playfully at
the satiny-soft flesh there. Annabel kept moving around, trying to get
her pussy in contact with Carla’s mouth, and after a minute Carla let
her. She stuck out her tongue and took a nice, deep slurp of the nectar
flowing from between Annabel’s pussy lips.
“My God,” she thought, “that’s fucking good.” She dove into Annabel’s crotch with such complete abandon that Annabel
soon found herself with her head resting somewhat awkwardly on the
floor as Carla’s tongue bored into her from above.
.
.
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