Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 65

When Carla and Annabel woke up the next morning, Yasmin was gone and the sun was just peeking over the walls of the valley outside. They were hung over but not debilitatingly so; after quickly showering they set off in search of breakfast. The hotel once again seemed to be completely abandoned, but they did find some coffee and pastries in the lobby, so they helped themselves and before long were back on the road.

They only had a few hours to drive so they took their time, both of them having occasional flashbacks of the previous night’s delights. An amazing meal followed by a threesome with a mysterious, beautiful woman ... already this trip was turning out well.

They crossed the border before noon and kept heading south along the coast. In midafternoon they arrived at their destination, which was even more impressive than it had looked online — a quiet, secluded beach framed by sparkling turquoise water.

They were renting the bottom half of a duplex; their hostess, whose name was Laura, had told Carla to knock on the door of the top unit when they arrived. She did so, and after a few seconds the door was answered by a woman in her 30s with big, dark brown eyes and a sly smile.

Carla was taken aback. In the blurry picture she’d seen online, Laura had looked awkward and frumpy. The woman standing in front of her was something else altogether. She had unusual but striking features and wavy hair that was either blonde with brown streaks or brown with blond streaks. Carla was immediately smitten.

Opening the door,  Laura invited them in and introduced herself, pronouncing her name in the exotic way: “Lao-ra.” Carla found herself uncharacteristically tongue-tied. Laura, fortunately, was very talkative, keeping up a steady stream of patter as she welcomed them and brought them glasses of watermelon-infused water. Before they left Laura’s apartment to see their own unit, Carla took a look around for any signs of a husband, boyfriend, or roommate; but as far as she could tell, this was the home of a single woman.

As Laura showed them around Carla found herself listening but not really hearing; Laura had a lovely voice with a charming accent, but Carla was much more interested in the way she moved. She was skinnier than Carla usually liked, but she just had a way about her; she was lithe and long-limbed, with a dancer’s grace.

Carla felt disappointed when Laura finished the tour and left them alone; her mind was whirling, plotting, strategizing, devising scenarios. But for the moment she let all that go. It was a beautiful day and after bringing in their suitcases, she and Annabel decamped for the beach. Initially they wore bathing suits but the beach was so quiet and deserted that after a few minutes Carla stripped naked, and Annabel followed suit.

When the sun was going down they wrapped themselves in towels and returned to the apartment. As they walked up Laura was standing in the bay window facing the water. Had she been watching them, Carla wondered? She hoped so.

As they passed Carla favored their hostess with a big smile, but Laura quickly turned away, looking preoccupied. Carla shrugged. There was time.

She and Annabel dressed and walked down the beach to the nearest town, where there was a restaurant that Laura had recommended. They had a wonderful dinner and several margaritas; at the nearby liquor store Carla bought a bottle of tequila to take home, cracking it open and sipping as they strolled home along the suddenly cool seashore. As they approached the house Carla looked for Laura in the window, but there was no sign of her; a light was on in her bedroom, however.

Carla was in a strange mood that night; Annabel could sense it, and was a little apprehensive. Her suspicions turned out to be well-founded; it wasn’t long before she found herself naked, face-down on the bed, wrists lashed to the headboard.

Meanwhile Carla stood over her suitcase, inspecting the implements of discipline and other toys she had brought. After a minute she picked up her cane. She wanted, more than anything else, to make Annabel scream as loud as possible for the benefit of their upstairs neighbor. She didn’t even bother to offer a pretense for the punishment; she just wanted to do it, and that was enough.

Starting slowly and almost gently, Carla gradually built up the intensity of the beating. Annabel’s moans reverberated through the quiet house, which was sparsely adorned and thus had excellent acoustics. At one point Carla leaned down, whispered the word “Louder” into Annabel’s ear, and brought the cane down on the older woman’s rump with a decisive crack.

After that Annabel didn’t really feel the pain anymore. It became kind of therapeutic for her, filling her lungs with air and then letting it go in a series of full-throated howls. When the caning was over her whole body was tingling, almost crackling with electrical energy.

Putting the cane aside, Carla equipped herself with a strap-on and made Annabel scream in a whole different way. All the while she imagined Laura listening to them upstairs, and wondered what she might be thinking.

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Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 64

When she’d had her fill of Yasmin’s delicious snatch, Carla lifted the smaller woman bodily — she was not heavy at all — and deposited her in 69 position on top of Annabel. Then she got out her strap-on, harnessed up, and starting filling holes more or less at random.

She was in something of a frenzy, alcohol coursing through her veins, sweat pouring down her forehead as she plunged the dildo mercilessly into Yasmin and Annabel’s orifices. Without breaking rhythm, she picked up the bottle of champagne Yasmin had brought, popped off the top, and took a long guzzle. Then she tipped up the bottle and poured a generous splash onto the naked bodies below her.

Both Yasmin and Annabel came hard and repeatedly, licking champagne off each other, tonguing each other’s clits as Carla penetrated them, their moans echoing through the quiet room. Finally Carla staggered backwards and sat down, feeling lightheaded. The two women on the bed lay there panting, sticky with champagne, sweat, and pussy juice.

For a few minutes no one moved. It was Yasmin who finally broke the spell, standing up and heading into the bathroom. In the dim light Carla thought her naked body looked like a ghost gliding through the room. It was as if she was some spirit that had always been here and always would be.

When she returned Yasmin was carrying three glasses. After filling one with water for Carla she poured champagne into the other two, then untied Annabel, who moved slowly and languidly to a sitting position, rubbing the circulation back into her wrists.

Yasmin handed some bubbly to Annabel and they clicked glasses, then quenched their thirst. Carla sipped the cool water gratefully, feeling calmer and clearer with every passing second. She gazed out the window at the dark, quiet valley, then back at the two naked women drinking champagne on the bed. This all seemed like a dream, but a very pleasant dream that she was in no hurry to get out of.

Setting down her empty glass, Yasmin leaned over and whispered a couple sentences into Annabel’s ear. Annabel nodded and Yasmin took her by the hand, helping her up from the bed. A few seconds later they were both kneeling in front of Carla.

They unharnessed the strap-on and set it aside. Each woman took ahold of one of Carla’s knees and they spread her legs as wide as they would go. Carla certainly wasn’t going to object. She splashed the remaining champagne into her glass and leaned back in her chair to enjoy herself.

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Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 63

Finding the hotel was easy, as it was the only building in the valley. From the outside it looked huge and majestic, if a little rundown. The lobby was the same – cavernous and ornate, but the carpet was worn and the paint was peeling in places.

It also seemed to be completely devoid of human life. Against the far wall was a long counter, in the middle of which sat a bell. Carla rang it, and the sound echoed through the empty space for several seconds before finally dying away. After a minute she rang it again, and still no one appeared. Shrugging, she took out her phone to start looking for the next nearest hotel, but there was no service.

Finally a little old man who looked like he’d been there since the place originally opened shuffled into the room and checked them in. Moving painfully slowly, he led them to their room, which turned out to be magnificent — huge and airy, with a canopy bed, an antique sofa, and a loft.

By the time they showered and changed they were both feeling ravenous. The reviews Carla had read online had stressed how good the hotel’s restaurant was, which at the moment she was finding hard to believe. But they set out in search of it and, after a few wrong turns, found themselves in a gigantic dining room. Only a few of the many tables were occupied, all of them by men eating alone.

For a minute Carla and Annabel stood looking around; it was silent in the room except for the scraping of silverware on plates and the faint sound of classical music that seemed to be coming from far away. Then a door to their left swung open and a woman appeared.

Carla did a double-take as she approached them. She was absolutely, stunningly, painfully gorgeous, with dark hair, dark eyes, and copper-brown skin. The tight-fitting black dress she wore was cut low on top and high on the bottom; her nametag said “Yasmin.”

“Hi!” she said, her mouth curling into a winning smile. Carla was uncharacteristically flustered; she stood just staring at Yasmin, wondering where she’d gotten her genes. She was probably some combination of Latin and Native American, Carla thought, but with her coloring she could just as easily have been Persian. Her age could have been anywhere from 20 to 40; hers was the kind of simple beauty that aged well.

It was Annabel who finally said, “Two for dinner, please.”

“Of course,” said Yasmin, and led them to a table set apart from the rest of the diners. Annabel and Carla sat down on the same side of the table and huddled over their menus while Yasmin brought them water and bread. They ordered martinis and when Yasmin returned with the drinks they were still studying the menus, unable to make up their minds.

In the end they didn’t need to. “Listen,” said Yasmin, grinning conspiratorially, “as you can see, we’re not very busy tonight. Let me have the chef put together a tasting menu for you. I’ll pair a wine with each course. Sound OK?”

“Sure,” said Carla, closing her menu with a sigh of relief. “Cheers,” she said, raising her glass toward the waitress, then clicking it with Annabel’s.

“Wonderful,” said Yasmin, picking up the menus. Then she whispered, as if it were a secret, “Our chef’s a genius.”

She turned out to be right. Each course was better than the one before, each wine perfectly matched with the food. As they ate the restaurant gradually cleared out until they were the only customers left, and Yasmin started lingering by their table, discussing the food, the wine, and anything else that came to mind.

Carla started to wonder: Is this girl just super-nice, or is she flirting with us? She felt certain that her and Annabel’s body language made clear the nature of their relationship, and more than once Yasmin winked at them as she brought some new delicacy to the table.

By the time they got to dessert they were both incredibly full — not to mention pretty tipsy — but Yasmin talked them into a chocolate-pumpkin cheesecake that was decadently delicious. When it was gone Carla leaned back in her chair and asked for brandy; a minute later Yasmin sat a bottle and two snifters down on their table. “I have to take care of some stuff in the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, OK?”

When she returned she was carrying a third snifter, and she poured herself two fingers of brandy. “It’s almost closing time,” she said, winking again.

“I’d love to give my compliments to the chef,” said Carla.

“That’s nice,” answered Yasmin, “but he’s very shy, you know. I’ll be sure to pass them on, though.” Sipping her brandy, Yasmin sighed. “There aren’t very many of us left. I’m afraid this place isn’t going to be around much longer.”

When she finished her drink she sighed and said, “Well, I’d better start cleaning up. Will you be charging this to your room?” Carla nodded. “That’s room 154, correct?”

When Carla nodded again Yasmin’s gaze lingered meaningfully on her own, and Carla felt her heart start to beat a little faster. Without saying another word, Yasmin spun on her heel and started to walk toward the kitchen; Carla watched her delightful rump sway back and forth until she finally disappeared through the door.

In their drunken condition it took Carla and Annabel even longer to get back to their room than it had to find the restaurant, but they finally made it. Turning on a single light in a sconce nestled in a corner of the room, Carla poured herself a glass of water and told Annabel to take her clothes off. When she was naked Carla found her collar in the suitcase and snapped it on, then bound her wrists and ankles to the four bedposts.

For the next half-hour they just waited. Carla killed time stroking Annabel’s nipples, playing with her pubic hair, and teasing her inner thighs. She wanted her stepmother whipped up into a fine frenzy for what she felt sure was about to happen.

Finally there was a soft knock at the door, and even before Carla could answer it, it began to swing open. Yasmin stepped in and closed the door behind her; kicking off her shoes, she glanced over at the naked blonde tied to the bed. She was carrying a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice, which she sat down on a sideboard.

Smiling a mysterious Mona Lisa smile, Yasmin stepped over to where Carla was standing. They embraced, then kissed, then kissed harder. Carla reached both hands around to squeeze Yasmin’s ass; it was pleasingly plump, firm yet yielding. Yasmin moaned into Carla’s mouth as their tongues intertwined.

Next Carla took hold of the top of Yasmin’s dress and popped her breasts out; she was braless underneath. They were utterly superb and Carla took a few moments to admire them before sucking on one, then the other. Her nipples were big, dark brown, and rock-hard; Carla gently closed her teeth on each one.

There was a moan of frustration from the bed, where the bound Annabel was annoyed at not being able to participate. Carla gazed over at her coolly, giving her a look that said “Soon enough.”

Carla lifted Yasmin’s dress up over her head and tossed it aside; she was now wearing nothing but black lace panties and knee-length black stockings. Carla whispered something in her ear and she nodded.

Turning, Yasmin climbed up onto the bed and stretched out full-length on top of Annabel. As they kissed Yasmin let one of her legs slip between Annabel’s; Annabel humped it shamelessly, rubbing her attention-starved pussy against Yasmin’s thigh. Meanwhile Annabel could feel the warmth of Yasmin’s crotch against her own leg.

Carla looked on, slowly undressing as she watched the two women on the bed make out. After a few minutes Yasmin began to move down Annabel’s body, sucking and licking her tits, nibbling her belly. Annabel’s whole body went stiff when Yasmin’s tongue touched her cunt. Then she arched her back and strained forward, greedy for more.

Coming up behind Yasmin, Carla fondled her rear for a minute, then let one hand find its way down between her legs. She probed up inside, feeling Yasmin’s muscles clench against her finger. Then she decided she couldn’t wait another second to taste this delectable specimen; she rolled over onto her back, pulled the crotch of Yasmin’s panties aside, and started licking.

Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 62

As she and Carla drove home from Dylan’s, Annabel pulled out her phone, which she’d left in the glove compartment while they were inside. A minute later Carla heard her groan and mutter, “Oh, God.”

“What’s up?” asked Carla sympathetically.

Annabel explained that she’d received a message from her husband, Carla’s father, saying that he would be arriving that evening for three days at home. This sent her into something of a panic. The tone of the message had been unusually friendly, leading her to think he was up to something. In the current state of things she couldn’t bear the thought of him touching her, much less trying to have sex with her.

The two of them talked it over, and by the time they got home they had a plan; they would use this crisis as an opportunity to go on a trip together. Annabel would tell her husband that she had suddenly been called home to visit her sick mother. This was plausible because it had already happened about six months previously, and Annabel was confident he wouldn’t call to check up on her; he hadn’t spoken to either of her parents since the day of their wedding.

Annabel felt a little guilty about using her mother’s health as a pretext to get out of town with her young lesbian lover. But under the circumstances she wanted a cover story that she felt absolutely sure her husband wouldn’t question.

Carla, for her part, didn’t need to make any excuses to anyone. She went where she wanted and did as she pleased.

The minute they got home Carla was on the internet researching possible destinations. Within a half-hour she had decided on Baja California and booked them an AirBnB starting the following night; that night they would stay at a hotel along the way.

Meanwhile Annabel had been packing; Carla quickly threw together a suitcase and by midafternoon they were on the road. The minute they hit the highway, the anxiety Annabel had been feeling was replaced by an exhilarating sense of freedom. She turned up the Tom Petty song on the radio and started singing along, prompting a smile from Carla, who had never seen her stepmother act so carefree and girlish.

They weren’t far down the road before Carla’s hand came to rest on the bare knee below Annabel’s skirt, then began to make its way up her thigh. When it inevitably crept over onto her crotch, Annabel leaned back in her seat, sighed, and opened her legs. Exploring, Carla was pleasantly surprised to find that Annabel was wearing her crotchless panties. She probed Annabel’s pussy with her middle finger for a minute, then brought the finger to her mouth for a taste.

“Mmmm,” said Carla, smacking her lips exaggeratedly. “Delicious.” She reached over and pulled Annabel’s skirt up around her waist. “Touch yourself for me,” she ordered.

Annabel gulped, suddenly aware of the cars all around them. But at the same time she was excited by the possibility of being seen, and reflexively obedient to Carla in any case. She rested her right hand on her pelvis, then extended her index finger and touched it to her vulva.

Carla gripped the wheel, her eyes flitting back and forth between the road and Annabel’s crotch. Then she took hold of Annabel’s left hand and brought it between her own legs. Now it was Annabel’s turn to multitask, fingering both herself and Carla. She was so focused that she didn’t notice the truck that came up alongside them, drove parallel for a minute, then raced ahead with a blare of its horn.

Momentarily taken aback, Annabel stopped what she was doing, but Carla grabbed her hand and returned it to where it had been. She had been getting close and was frustrated with the interruption.

When Carla came she exhaled loudly but appeared otherwise unaffected, keeping her eyes on the road as it took a long, slow curve to the left. Annabel, after looking around to make sure there were no other vehicles close by, resumed rubbing herself until she too was able to climax.

After that they drove along contentedly as the traffic gradually thinned out and the highway narrowed from six lanes, to four, to two. Feeling a bit parched as the landscape grew dry and dusty, they stopped to buy fruit and cold drinks at a roadside stand, then continued to the south.

In the late afternoon Carla decided it was time for a break. She pulled off the highway and found a quiet, secluded spot behind a small stand of trees. She and Annabel shared a joint and then had a nice, leisurely 69 in the back seat. Afterward they closed their eyes for a few minutes, then got back on the road for the last leg of the day’s journey.

The sun was just dipping below the horizon when they began the long descent into the valley where their hotel was supposed to be. Now that the day had cooled off Carla had her window rolled all the way down, enjoying the clean, unsmoggy air. She was still a little high, feeling relaxed and mellow, locked into that groove where the car seems to drive itself.

They had long since lost the radio stations from home, and after listening for a while to Mexican radio they had settled on a Spanish-language classic rock station. Just as Carla spotted the lights in the valley below the guitar intro to “Hotel California” came on the radio. She smiled to herself; it was such a cliche and yet so absolutely perfect for this moment. She realized that some people might consider this song a bad omen, but she was not worried in the least.

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