Friday, April 12, 2019

Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 91

After thinking about it for a few minutes, Carla decided on a return trip to the same bar they’d visited two nights before, wanting to be someplace comfortable and familiar. She may also have had in the back of her mind the idea of a return engagement with Amira and Loren, but they were nowhere to be seen. In fact it was a very slow night at the bar, with only a handful of customers present.

Instead of the jazz band, music was being provided by a lone girl with an acoustic guitar. She was playing and singing quietly, and her face was mostly hidden behind an asymmetrical — and, Carla thought, not terribly flattering — haircut. All that was visible was a wave of light brown hair streaked with a few lines of scarlet dye.

Carla and Annabel got their drinks and sat down at a corner table. There was a soft murmur of conversation in the room, but Carla kept finding her attention drawn back to the musician, who seemed to be playing one incredibly sad song after another. She did not have the best voice, but there was something compelling about her performance. She radiated sincerity, making the listener really feel her emotions, and wish they could do something to help her.

After a few songs they moved closer and Carla gazed into her face, trying to get a better look and make eye contact if she could. Finally the girl shook her head and the hair swept to one side, revealing a pretty, fine-featured face and the biggest, saddest brown eyes Carla had ever seen. Seeing Carla look at her, the musician smiled shyly and shook her head again, causing a tumble of hair to once again fall across her face.

At first Annabel was a little put out at Carla’s focus on the young singer, who didn’t appear to be old enough to actually drink in the bar she was playing in. But eventually she too was won over, and she sensed something different about Carla’s interest in this girl. Carla eyes were not burning with lust, but dewy with tender feeling.

When the set was over Carla clapped loudly and enthusiastically, and Annabel quickly joined in. When the girl peered out at them from behind her hair it was clear that she was blushing, embarrassed by the ardency of their response.

Her guitar case was open at her feet with only a couple of loose dollars in it. Carla opened her purse, took out all the cash inside — about $50 — and dropped it into the case. Taken aback, the singer stood up and sat her guitar down in the chair she’d just vacated. She was tallish, with a body shape undefined under a flannel shirt and loose jeans. It appeared that she was starting to say something — her mouth moved, but nothing came out.

Carla started to chat her up, and though she was quiet at first, after a few minutes she began to open up. Carla bought all of three of them drinks and they huddled together at a quiet table. Over the next hour Carla learned the following: The girl’s name was Lissa, and she had moved from Wisconsin to L.A. about a year ago to try and make it in the music business. It had not gone well — she was a shy and quiet person with no gift for self-promotion, and though she’d made a couple of contacts with producers, both of them had turned out to want to fuck her before they’d do anything to help her career.

In the meantime she’d quickly burned through her savings and though she’d had a number of day jobs, she kept losing them for one reason or another. Three times she’d moved to a smaller apartment, and just that day she’d been evicted from the latest one. Everything she still owned — a duffel bag full of clothes and her guitar — she had with her at the bar. She’d been hoping to make enough in tips that night to get a hotel room, but even with Carla’s generous contribution she was falling short.

Both Carla and Annabel felt warmly sympathetic to Lissa’s plight, and Carla did not hesitate to invite her to spend the night with them. She was hesitant to accept, stuttering “Gee, that’s awfully nice of you, but...”

Carla waved her off. “I’m not taking no for an answer,” said Carla firmly. When she had made up her mind about something, her voice carried a lot of authority; Lissa didn’t argue any further. Carla was happy; it felt very satisfying, actually, to be able to help someone who really needed it.

By now the bar was about to close, so they loaded Lissa and her stuff into the car and drove home. Annabel set Lissa up in the guest room and all three of them called it a night. Upon crawling into bed Annabel kissed Carla warmly and cuddled up on her shoulder, touched by the way she’d shown generosity to a stranger in need.

* * *

By the time Carla and Annabel came downstairs in the morning, Lissa had already showered and dressed, and had mixed a bowl of eggs that she then threw on the stove to make omelets for everyone.  She seemed much more lively than the night before, refreshed perhaps by a good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed.

“Your house is so beautiful,” said Lissa. “This is the kind of place people dream of living in.”

Carla looked around; it was hard to argue with her. The sun was shining on the ocean, reflecting dazzling ripples of light into the kitchen. Carla was struck suddenly by how lucky she was to live the way she did. She may have had issues with her father, but her there was certainly no faulting the way he provided.

Lissa was a gifted cook, it turned out; the omelets were phenomenally delicious and Carla wolfed hers down with embarrassing speed. When Lissa offered to make her seconds, Carla hesitated only briefly before saying OK.

Carla studied Lissa as she cooked. She was a pretty girl with wonderful eyes, it was just a shame about that haircut. Well, that was situation that could be rectified. As a matter of fact, she and Annabel were in need of a little neatening up, so Carla called her stylist and made appointments for all three of them.

After breakfast Annabel did the dishes and Carla took Lissa out onto the deck. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Lissa looked every bit like the wholesome Midwestern girl she was, or at least had been. Carla found it strange that she hadn’t once thought about Lissa in a sexual way. It wasn’t that she was unattractive; more that she seemed like such a lost soul, it was hard to feel sorry for her and lust after her at the same time.

Carla wondered what Lissa thought her and Annabel’s relationship was. Annabel had been wearing her collar since the previous night, but she and Carla hadn’t been particularly demonstrative in Lissa’s presence. Still, Lissa had to know there was something between them.

At the stylist Carla and Annabel just got trims, but Lissa emerged with a chic little bob that revealed much more of her face, changing her appearance dramatically. Feeling beneficent, Carla treated all of them to mani/pedis, then they went clothes shopping. At Carla’s behest Lissa tried on dozens of different outfits before settling on a flowery summer dress that completed her transformation into a whole different person.

At one point Lissa balked at having so much money spent on her, and Carla told her not to worry about tit. “My father has more money than God,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to spend some of it on someone other than myself.” She had almost said “someone who really needs it,” but stopped herself just in time; she wanted to build Lissa up, not tear her down.

After shopping they had a late lunch and then went to a yoga class. Carla insisted on treating Lissa to yoga clothes from the studio’s boutique, and upon seeing her in them, found her libido beginning to rev. Lissa was long and lithe, with a perfectly rounded little butt and high, well-formed breasts. The top she was wearing showed off her narrow waist and a lean, flat belly that any model would have been proud of; it was probably the result of poverty as much as anything, but it looked good.

The teacher of the class was an older woman with short hair who was in great shape for her age but not Carla’s type. Carla was glad; she was feeling suddenly horny and the sight of Asha might have driven her into a frenzy. As it was, Carla had a hard time concentrating on the poses. Looking around at the many lovely women in the room, and at the two splendid specimens on either side of her, she felt a distinct tingle between her legs. Something would have to be done about that sooner or later.


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