Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 24

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Carla asked curtly. “Answer it.”

Somewhat sheepishly, given the way she looked, Annabel went to the door. Carla’s guest was a very pretty young woman about her same age with brown hair, brown eyes, and glasses.

“Hey Courtney,” said Carla. “This is Annabel.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Courtney matter-of-factly, as if this was a totally normal everyday interaction, as if Annabel had not answered the door dressed in nothing but a bra that revealed her nipples and skimpy panties that her blond bush was peeking out from underneath.

“You too,” said Annabel.

“OK then,” said Carla, “now that we’ve got the preliminaries out of the way, let’s get a bottle open.”

Carla had known Courtney for years; they had been in the same high school class. But they had a strange relationship. They had slept together quite a few times over the years, but Courtney still insisted on maintaining that she was straight. She came from a very conservative family and was in a deep state of denial about her sexual identity, Carla thought. But every time she got a few glasses of wine in her, she ended up in bed with a girl; Carla herself had been the beneficiary of this phenomenon on more than one occasion.

Just the other night, at a friend’s party, Carla had run into Courtney for the first time in a while. Courtney had been drinking white zinfandel and they’d ended up fucking in one of their host’s spare bedrooms. The thing of it was, because Courtney expressed her true desires so infrequently, when she did, she really went all out. Carla had never had her pussy licked like Courtney did it; the girl was a tiger in the sack. And she was super-cute besides, with yummy tits and a sweet little rump.

Still, Carla found herself continually annoyed by Courtney’s state of denial. She didn’t like that Courtney couldn’t be true to herself, and resented the implication that being lesbian was wrong somehow. Carla flew her dyke flag proudly and looked down on people who didn’t. She was happy to tell anyone, anywhere why she liked girls better than boys; it seemed perfectly obvious and natural to her.

Even so, her recent experience with Courtney made Carla think it would be worthwhile to get Courtney and Annabel together, open a few bottles, and see what happened. In truth she was pretty sure what would happen, but the fun was in the details.

For starters Carla opened a nice bottle of burgundy; no white zin was going to be drunk in her house, even if it did help her get laid. She poured a nice tall glass for Courtney and slightly smaller ones for Annabel and herself, and they stood around talking in the kitchen as Annabel finished cooking.

During dinner Carla noticed that Courtney’s gaze kept wandering over to Annabel’s nipples, which were fully erect throughout the meal. Courtney finished her wine and Carla refilled it; soon they had killed the first bottle and started on a second. The more Courtney drank, the more she fixated on Annabel’s boobs; not that Carla could blame her, as they were quite stunning in that bra.

For dessert they had ice cream, and Carla couldn’t resist playfully dabbing a little onto one of Annabel’s nipples and leaning down to lick it off. Then she put a little on the other nipple and looked over at Courtney, who was well into her third glass by now. Courtney licked her lips and hesitated just a second before lunging at Annabel’s chest.

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Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 23

By the time Annabel was finished servicing Carla, her pussy was on fire. She remained on her knees hoping that Carla would see fit to lick her, or fuck her, or something. She was prepared to beg if she had to.

Instead, Carla stood up and unhooked the leash from Annabel’s collar. “I have a friend coming over in a little bit, so I’m going to get cleaned up while you go downstairs and whip us up a little something.” Annabel obediently stood to go, sighing quietly as it sunk in that her satisfaction would be delayed indefinitely. As she was walking out Carla said, “And when I come down I want to see you looking exactly like this. Hear me?”

Annabel nodded, looking down to where her erect nipples protruded from the bra. She bit her lip, wondering what further developments the day might hold.

The kitchen was not particularly well-stocked at the moment but she managed to scrape together some fish, potatoes au gratin, and a salad. When she caught her reflection in the window, she was amazed at what she saw: A collared slave slut in crotchless panties and a nipple-less bra. The sensible part of her was saying “Good lord, girl, cover yourself.” But there was no denying that she looked hot.

Annabel entered into a sort of daydream where she imagined that she was Carla’s wife. Carla came home in a business suit and Annabel met her at the door, dressed exactly as she was dressed now, with a cold martini in her hand. Carla sat down on the living room sofa to sip her drink as Annabel took off her shoes and rubbed her feet. Then Annabel began to make her way upward.

When she got to Carla’s crotch she unzipped the zipper and a thick black strap-on popped out. Annabel licked and sucked it as Carla finished the last of her martini, after which Carla threw Annabel roughly over the ottoman and fucked her senseless.

* * *

Carla smiled devilishly when she came down and saw Annabel standing at the stove rubbing her pussy. She was secretly delighted but pretended to be mad. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” Annabel shook her head, looking guilty. “Come with me.”

Carla took Annabel to the living room and bent her over the very ottoman she had been picturing in her fantasy. From a shopping bag Carla produced another of her new acquisitions, a fur-lined paddle. For a minute she rubbed it gently against Annabel’s rear end, then she hauled off and gave Annabel a solid “thwack” on the left butt cheek. It was followed by a matching blow on the other cheek, then she went back and forth until Annabel's ass was glowing a nice warm red.

Carla stuck a hand between Annabel’s legs to feel how wet she was. Very. She coated one hand with juice and made Annabel lick it off. Annabel’s eyes were full of pleading, and Carla was tempted to do her right then and there. But at that moment the doorbell rang.

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Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 22

On the ride home Annabel wondered: If Carla had used her to get a better deal from Katya, did that make her a whore? She supposed that it did; the idea was at once mortifying and oddly thrilling.

The sun was going down as they pulled up in front of the house. Carla dropped Annabel off and headed right out again — she had plans for the evening. 

Inside, Annabel walked around the house in a bit of a daze, still a bit stoned and just generally discombobulated by all that had happened. After awhile she heated up some leftovers and went to eat in front of the TV.

More and more it seemed that, when Carla wasn’t around, Annabel didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She sat there watching show after show until almost midnight, but barely paid attention to any of it. More often she was thinking of Carla, wondering where she was, what she was doing, who she was with. Annabel hated to admit it, but she felt jealous.

After brushing her teeth Annabel got into bed, where she tossed and turned, images and sensations from the day running through her mind. She had to rub herself off more than once before she could finally fall asleep.

In the morning she tiptoed down the hall and peeked into Carla’s room; nobody home. Someday, maybe, she’d find out where Carla went and what she did all night.

After breakfast Annabel headed to the yoga studio. In the hallway she ran into Dylan, and this time she was actually able to carry on a conversation. It was just chitchat about the weather and the yoga teacher, but still it made Annabel happy; Dylan was sharp and funny and easy to talk to.

In class Dylan set up next to Annabel, and more than once Annabel found herself distracted by the beautiful body beside her. Dylan’s yoga pants were very tight and very sheer, and at one point during a Warrior pose Annabel was pretty sure she caught a glimpse of red pubic hair.

Afterwards they walked out together and stood for a minute on the sidewalk. Dylan pointed down the street and said, “Well, I’m over here. See you next time.” Annabel said goodbye and watched her walk away, feeling like there was something she was supposed to say or do, but not knowing what it was.

Back home, Annabel got her book and stretched out on a deck chair to read. She had just come into the kitchen for a glass of lemonade when Carla appeared, loaded down with two handfuls of shopping bags. “I’ve been shopping,” she said, rather unnecessarily. She tossed her head in the direction of the living room and said “Come with me.”

In the living room Carla put her bags down and started pawing through them. She looked over at Annabel and said, matter-of-factly, “Get undressed.” Annabel took off her shorts and T-shirt, looking over at Carla expectantly. “All the way,” ordered Carla.

Once Annabel was naked, Carla produced what at first appeared to be an ordinary pair of black lace panties. But when Annabel put them on, it became apparent that they were open at the crotch, leaving her pussy exposed.

Next Carla helped Annabel into a matching black lace bra that had openings in the middle of each cup for her nipples. Annabel sometimes had trouble bra-shopping, but this one fit perfectly. Carla nodded her approval. “I thought you were a D-cup.”

From another bag Carla fished out a black leather collar with alternating metal studs and what appeared to be diamonds. Annabel wondered how much she had paid for it. On the front was a metal ring like the one on a dog collar, and next to it was stitched the letter “C.”

“This is for you,” said Carla, brushing back Annabel’s hair and fastening the collar around her neck. “I want you to wear this whenever you’re here at the house. It’s a reminder of who you belong to.”

Instinctively, Annabel objected — not to the implication that she was now Carla’s property, but on practical grounds. “But your father....”

Carla waved her hands. “Fine, you don’t have to wear it when he’s here. But otherwise I don’t want to see you without it.”

Annabel blushed at the realization that she was going to do it. She would do Carla’s bidding without question. She couldn’t help herself.

Carla got out the leash she’d bought, a six-foot length of black leather, and hooked one end to Annabel’s collar. She started to lead Annabel from the room, but after a few steps she stopped, looking back with a stern expression. It took a few seconds for Annabel to figure out what Carla wanted; when she did, she dropped immediately to her hands and knees.

“Good girl,” said Carla. She led the crawling blonde down the hallway and up the stairs to her bedroom, where she sat down, lifted the plaid skirt she was wearing, and slipped off her panties. Spreading her legs and settling into a comfortable position, Carla tightened the leash inch by inch, bringing Annabel to where she could make herself useful.

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Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 21

Katya guided Annabel’s head to where she wanted it to be, which was down between her legs. It was pungent down there, and warm, and sticky. Annabel stuck out her tongue and took a taste.

This was her third pussy, and she was discovering that each one was a little different. Katya’s didn't look, smell, or taste like Carla’s or Kim’s. It seemed to have a very distinct and complex flavor; then again, Annabel was also high as a kite.

She licked all around, occasionally pushing her tongue inside to explore what it was like in there. Katya moved her hips and rubbed against Annabel’s face, moaning quietly, then started grinding her clit against Annabel’s nose. The noises issuing from her throat got louder and more frequent, slowly building to a crescendo that Annabel could feel through Katya’s thighs, which were now squeezing her head in a vise-like grip.

When she came Katya suddenly released Annabel, and sank back into the couch. This caused Annabel to rock back on her knees, losing her balance and almost falling over backward. When she righted herself she saw that Carla was standing there right next to them with a strap-on dangling from her pelvis. This one was white and quite impressively long. Pushing Annabel’s head back into her crotch, Katya took the shaft of the strap-on in her hand and began to lick and suck it.

Annabel had an inkling of what was coming next, and she was not disappointed. She felt Carla behind her, prying her pussy lips apart, then penetrating her with the tip of the dildo. Pausing from her ministrations, Annabel gasped loudly as she was filled up; but then Carla took a handful of her hair and yanked her forward, reminding her of what she was supposed to be doing. Annabel obediently resumed eating Katya’s pussy as Carla hammered into her.

Again Annabel had the sensation that she was floating above, looking down at herself. There she was on her knees, naked, hands bound behind her with rope. She was performing oral sex on a woman she barely knew while her stepdaughter penetrated her with an artificial penis. A week ago, she’d had no idea that anyone did such things, let alone that she herself would be doing them soon enough.

Then Carla reached around to touch Annabel’s clit and she was coming — and coming and coming.... The orgasm seemed to go on forever; every time it started to die down, Carla would finger her again, and away she’d go.

Annabel was in a daze for awhile after that. When she returned to her senses she was on her back on the floor, sweaty and spent. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and then suddenly there was a figure looming over her: Carla, looking tall, strong, and glorious, naked as the day she was born. She knelt over Annabel in a way that made it clear what needed doing.

Enveloped by the now-familiar scent of her stepdaughter’s pussy, Annabel began to slurp away eagerly as Carla wiggled her hips, pushing the back of Annabel’s head down against the floor. Meanwhile Katya crawled between Annabel’s legs, eager for a taste of the delicious-looking blond cunt.

Pleasurable as this was,  Annabel soon found herself in a bit of a struggle. She couldn’t really breathe with Carla’s crotch smothering her face and knew she wouldn’t be allowed to come up for air until she’d made Carla come. But she was continually distracted by what Katya was doing between her legs, and Carla was so slippery wet that she had a hard time navigating. She found Carla’s clit, then lost it, then found it again.

When Carla finally came she gripped Annabel’s head between her legs so hard that for a second Annabel thought her skull was going to pop. Mercifully, Carla soon climbed off her and Annabel took a big gulp of air. Seconds later she was coming too. The orgasm started in her clit and radiated out to every one of her extremities, making her whole body quiver.

After Katya untied her they all dressed and went into Katya’s kitchen for tea and cake. Someone walking into the room right then would have thought it was an average, everyday social visit – three women sitting in a kitchen eating, drinking, and talking. But if they’d stuck around they’d have noticed a pronounced marijuana-and-pussy smell in the air.

Before they left Katya again opened the top of her coffee table and pulled out a smaller, but still impressive, ziploc bag filled with the same purple-and-green buds. She handed it to Carla, who asked, “How much do I owe you?”

“Well, with your, um, special discount,” said Katya, looking over at Annabel, “call it a hundred.”

Carla opened her purse and handed the money to Katya, shooting a wink at Annabel, who blushed. Katya and Carla hugged and then Katya embraced Annabel and kissed her on the cheek. “Come again anytime,” she said.

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Dominated by Her Stepdaughter, Chapter 20

Next thing she knew, Annabel was on her hands and knees naked — save for her socks — on a sort of platform at one side of the room. Pulling Annabel’s hands behind her back, Katya tied them together with a length of rope, then tied that rope off to a hook in the ceiling. In this position Annabel’s hands were lifted straight up the air behind her, forcing her to bend forward for balance, but not quite allowing her to touch the ground. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but it was awkward and uncomfortable.

Going back to sit beside Carla, Katya fired up the pipe again and filled her lungs all the way with smoke. Then she walked over to where Annabel was, knelt down, and again took Annabel’s chin in her hand. Pressing her lips forcefully against Annabel's, Katya exhaled, breathing the smoke into Annabel’s lungs.

Annabel coughed, feeling suddenly lightheaded and a little giddy. Carla shook her head. “Such a waste of good dope,” she said. Firing the lighter she added, “Hold it in your lungs this time.” She took a hit and did the same thing Katya had just done, blowing a stream of second-hand smoke down Annabel’s throat.

With effort, Annabel just barely managed to hold it in. Carla stepped away as Katya came forward and slid a ballgag into Annabel’s mouth. This forced Annabel to exhale through her nose, white clouds billowing through both nostrils.

Annabel closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She suddenly became aware that music was playing in the room, something classical and intricate. Had it just started, or had it been playing the whole time without her noticing? She didn’t know.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw something alarming: Katya was holding a whip, waving it slowly through the air as if testing it. Annabel’s eyes bulged and she gulped, whimpering through her gag. Surely they must be kidding, she thought, they couldn’t possibly... when, crack, the whip smacked against her rear end.

Annabel looked over pleadingly at Carla, whose expression was remote. Finding no help there, she shifted her gaze to Katya, whose eyes were gleaming demonically. There was a fire in those eyes, something ancient and primal; it was too much for Annabel, who averted her eyes just as Katya again raised the whip.

Fortunately for Annabel, Katya was an expert. She knew how to cause pain without real damage, and even painwise she took it easy on Annabel, dealing her glancing blows on the rump, back, and thighs. That didn’t stop Annabel from moaning pitifully or tears from forming at the corners of her eyes. Worse than the pain was the knowledge that she was in this situation voluntarily; no one had put a gun to her head.

Annabel breathed a sigh of relief when Katya finally left off, curling the whip into a coil and sitting it down. Her skin burned where it had been hit, but after a few seconds the pain began to transform into a warm feeling that was almost pleasurable.

Katya untied the end of the rope from the ceiling hook and took it with her to the couch. There Annabel watched as Katya pulled off first her boots, then her jeans, then the black panties underneath. She had a substantial crop of dark brown pubic hair, but it was neatly trimmed into a perfect triangle.

Picking up the rope, Katya began to twist it around her hand, forcing Annabel to knee-walk toward her. When she was directly in front Katya released the rope, spread her legs, and gripped the back of Annabel’s head with both hands.

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