Dominated By Her Stepdaughter Ch 03

In a state of shock, Annabel threw herself onto the bed and and stared at the ceiling. Her mind was a tangle of conflicting emotions: fear, shame, confusion, excitement.

She knew, in theory, that girls sometimes did sexual things together. But she'd never experienced it directly before. Did having seen what she'd seen make her a bad person somehow? She felt like her whole world had been turned upside down. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing, her crotch throbbing in a way that felt good but also frightening.

She stayed in bed for the whole rest of the afternoon as the sun gradually faded away. At one point she heard voices downstairs, then a door closing and a car starting as Kim left. She heard Carla moving around in the house and wondered how she could ever look her stepdaughter in the eye again after what had happened.

As evening came on Annabel heard Carla downstairs in the kitchen, and realized that she was starving. She tried not to think about it, and the harder she tried the hungrier she got. After awhile she stood up, opened the bedroom door, and stood at the top of the stairs. Something smelled wonderful: onion, garlic, tomato, oregano.

Annabel realized that she couldn't avoid Carla indefinitely. Sooner or later they were going to have to come face to face, and it might as well be now. She took a deep breath and made her way down the stairs.

In the kitchen she found Carla, now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, making pasta with marinara sauce. Carla greeted her matter-of-factly, seemingly preoccupied with her sauce, to which she now added a splash of red wine. Annabel could feel herself blushing, thinking of what she'd witnessed that afternoon. But Carla didn't appear to notice, allowing Annabel to maintain a veneer of normality, for which she was grateful. She could see that the food was almost ready, so she got out plates, and in a few minutes they were sitting at the dining room table, eating and drinking wine.

They ate in silence for the most part. Annabel didn't know what to say, and Carla's mind seemed to be elsewhere. A few times their eyes met, and Carla gave Annabel a look that pierced her to her very soul. It was a look that said, "I know everything about you. I know more about you than you know about yourself." After it had happened a few times, Annabel stopped looking up from her plate. It was more than she knew how to handle.

After dinner they loaded the dishwasher and Carla went to the bathroom. Annabel wandered into the living room and flipped on the television, paying no attention at all to what was on, just watching the pixels dance and trying not to think.

Suddenly Carla was standing in front of her, blocking out the TV. Annabel's eyes started at Carla's jeans and gradually moved up to her face, pausing momentarily at her breasts, which were well-displayed by her tight black T-shirt. She was standing there smiling down at Annabel, or was it sneering? Her expression was confident, unflinching, with a hint of cruelty.

For a long moment they just looked at each other. Annabel's heart throbbed in her chest. Something was happening here... but what?

"I saw you watching us this afternoon," said Carla. "Did you like what you saw?"

Annabel didn't know how to respond, but she felt like she had to say something, so she just stuttered, "I... I...."

Carla put a finger to Annabel's lips to silence her. "It's OK," she said.

Annabel immediately felt warm inside, relaxed, at peace. In a way it was surprising when Carla leaned down to kiss her. And in another way it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

* * *

The kiss started soft but soon turned aggressive. Carla's tongue pushed into Annabel's mouth, and Annabel felt as if she was being penetrated, violated. But she was powerless to resist and wouldn't have anyway. It felt too good.

Next thing Annabel knew, Carla's hands were on her breasts. The touch was electric; Annabel felt her whole body stiffen, then relax. There was the beginning of a stirring down between her legs, a feeling of warmth and wetness that made her a little lightheaded.

Somewhere in the back of Annabel's mind a voice was shouting, trying to get her attention. "This is wrong," it was trying to tell her, "very very wrong!" But it was drowned out by the blood rushing through her veins as Carla squeezed her tits. Carla's grip was somehow both possessive and tender; no one had ever touched Annabel quite that way before.

Breaking the kiss, Carla pulled Annabel's shirt up over her head and off, and tossed it aside. Annabel was glad she'd decided to wear her nice black lace bra that day. Carla nodded approvingly and pressed her palms against Annabel's nipples, which were hard as rocks, straining against the fabric of the bra.

Carla grinned at the effect she was having on her stepmother. Annabel's chest was heaving, her breath was ragged, and her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest. Carla leaned forward and softly bit each nipple through the fabric of the bra. Annabel moaned, the first audible sound she'd made this whole time. Her eyes were closed now, so she couldn't see Carla's face. But if she had she'd have seen a triumphant expression that translated as "You're mine now."

Carla kissed Annabel on the neck while reaching around to unhook her bra. A few seconds later, the bra joined the shirt on the floor. Carla pressed Annabel's nipples with her thumbs. She had big ones, with perfect light brown areolae. Carla wanted to taste them, so she did.

Annabel's eyes opened again, this time to the sight of her stepdaughter suckling on her left breast. That voice inside her was screaming now -- "No, no, no!" -- but it was too late. Annabel wasn't listening.