Dominated By Her Stepdaughter Ch 30

A low red sun was hovering on the horizon as the three of them climbed into Carla's car -- Carla and Kim in the front, Annabel in back. As they pulled out of the driveway Annabel slunk down in the seat, feeling self-conscious about how her provocative appearance.

Seeing this, Carla told her to sit up. "You look gorgeous," she said. "Stop hiding."

About 45 minutes later they pulled into a parking lot next to a warehouse on the outskirts of Van Nuys. Although it felt like the middle of nowhere, there were quite a few cars in the lot and a bunch of people walking toward the warehouse. Upon closer examination they were all women of various ages, many of them wearing eye-catching outfits, some practically naked.

Annabel sat for a few seconds wondering where they were and what was happening, then was snapped out of her reverie when Carla opened the door next to her, leaned into the car, and clipped a leash onto her collar. Carla tugged on the leash and next thing she knew Annabel was being led across the parking lot, wobbling on her high heels, blushing bright crimson at being paraded around in public this way.

But then she noticed that she was not the only one on a leash -- there were two others nearby. Looking around at the crowd, Annabel saw that all shapes, sizes, and colors were represented, but every single one of them seemed somehow glamorous. There was a certain pride in the way everyone moved, including those who -- like Annabel -- were in a subservient role.

As they entered they stopped at a table that held a stack of papers. Carla picked one up for herself and handed one to Annabel. It was a single double-sided sheet covered with very small print, with a place for a signature at the bottom.

"What's this?" asked Annabel.

"Just a standard waiver," said Carla with a nonchalant shake of her head. "Nothing to worry about. Just sign it."

Annabel hesitated for a moment. Her father had always told her never to sign anything without reading every word of it first. She looked up from the paper at Carla, who gazed back at her impassively. Then again, her father wouldn't approve of any aspect of the situation that she currently found herself in. Shrugging, Annabel sat the paper down and added her signature.

When they handed in their signed sheets, the girl behind the table gave each of them a necklace with a number on it. Carla and Kim both immediately put theirs on, so Annabel followed suit; they were numbers 71, 72, and 73.

From the outside the warehouse had appeared rundown and abandoned, but inside it looked like a nightclub, though a sparsely decorated one. There was a bar to their left and a darkened stage to the right; the space between was occupied by tables, each with a single candle burning on top. That seemed to be about the only light there was; the dimness gave the room an atmosphere of romantic mystery.

They found a table and Kim went to get drinks while Carla sat Annabel down, snapped off her leash, and laid it down on the table. Annabel looked around wondering what people must be thinking of her, a mature woman who was clearly the sexual plaything of two younger girls. But no one seemed to be paying attention to her; in fact the club had a surprising air of normality, despite the many collars and restraints visible, and the number of women dressed in leather, rubber, or vinyl.

Music was playing on the sound system, and a few people were dancing. Carla and Kim chatted eagerly, looking full of anticipation, as Annabel studied the stage. It was hard to see clearly in the low light, but it seemed to hold various pieces of mechanical apparatus that she could not begin to guess at the function of. She sat there tapping her fingers, sipping her drink, wondering somewhat nervously what the night might have in store.

* * *

Suddenly Annabel had a flash of her dream from the night before. She'd been on a stage very much like the one across the room from her right now, lit by soft red light, doing a striptease to slinky, bass-heavy music.

She'd felt both vulnerable and turned on as she slowly removed her clothes, trying to look seductive, not quite sure what that meant exactly. She sensed there was a crowd out there, but everything beyond the front of the stage was lost in total darkness. When she was finally naked, feeling that something more was expected of her, she began to touch herself....

* * *

They had been waiting for the better part of an hour and were on their third round of drinks -- good strong drinks, too, not your usual nightclub pour -- when the music went down and a spotlight was switched on. In the sudden brightness Annabel could now see that the entire wall behind the stage was covered by an enormous mirror, which made it seem like there was a second club over there with identical patrons.

A figure appeared at the back of the stage and began to walk toward them. It was a woman, of course -- a tall, imperious-looking blonde in her late 30s or early 40s with the physique and demeanor of an Amazon. Her outfit, a floor-length fur coat hanging open over a black leather bikini, would have looked preposterous on almost anyone else. But on her it was staggeringly sexy. She also wore heels even taller than Annabel's, but unlike Annabel she walked with complete self-assurance.

The crowd applauded as she stood before a microphone at the front of the stage. "Welcome, everyone," she said, and there was another, louder round of applause. "How is everyone tonight?" There was a chorus of cheers, yells, and whistles. "Glad to hear it. Well, as always, let's begin with the audience participation part of the show."

She picked up a glass bowl that had been sitting on a stool to her left and plunged one hand inside. After a few seconds she pulled it out and held up a number to the crowd. "72," she said.

Everyone in the crowd looked around to see who was wearing that number. It took Annabel a few seconds to figure out that it was her. People started applauding as more and more eyes turned to look at her, and Carla jerked her head in the direction of the stage. Finally Annabel understood that she was expected to go up there.

Heart pounding, Annabel stood up and began to make her way toward the stage. She moved slowly because she was having trouble walking on the warehouse's uneven floor, but it seemed like she was being dramatic, and the crowd ate it up.

There were steps at stage right and Annabel walked up to them, then paused. They were high enough that she didn't feel sure she could climb them. The woman onstage came over to offer a hand, and with her assistance Annabel was able to make it up.

The Amazon leaned toward Annabel to be heard over the din of the crowd. "What's your name, sweetheart?" When Annabel told her she said, "I'm Blair. It's nice to meet you. You're new here, hmmm?" Annabel nodded. Blair took her by the hand and led her to the other side of the stage. "Lay down for me here, would you?"

Blair indicated a sort of platform with obvious places for her head and feet. Annabel stretched herself out as desired; the surface was hard but not uncomfortable. Blair lifted Annabel's hands over her head and bound them to the platform with built-in restraints. She maneuvered a few levers and the platform began to move, lifting and then rotating. When it stopped moving Annabel found herself upside-down with her feet in the air, facing away from the audience, but still able to see them in the mirror.

Only the part of the platform supporting the top half of Annabel's body had moved, so her loose legs were sticking straight up into the air. But with her yoga-built core strength she had no problem supporting herself in that position until Blair clicked each of her ankles into metal cuffs that were hanging from the ceiling.

Annabel's dress was tight enough that even in this position -- hanging upside-down with her legs apart -- it hadn't budged an inch. Blair now began to roll it slowly up -- or actually down -- over her thighs. Annabel felt herself being exposed inch by inch. Soon the dress was up around her hips, meaning that she was naked from the waist down -- or in this position, the waist up -- with her backside facing the audience and her pubic hair clearly visible in the mirror.

Feeling the blood begin to rush into her head, Annabel squinted at the mirror, trying to find Carla and Kim among the crowd. When she finally located them she saw Carla lean over and whisper something in Kim's ear, and they both laughed.

Blair, meanwhile, had opened a trunk at the side of the stage and begun to rummage through it. After a minute she emerged holding a metal yardstick. Suddenly realizing what that meant, Annabel gulped. Seemingly every day she was debased in some new way. Now she found herself hanging upside-down, her nether regions exposed, about to be punished in public for no reason by a complete stranger.

Playing to the crowd, Blair waved the ruler through the air, watching it bend and bobble. That looks like it's going to hurt, thought Annabel; but despite this, or maybe because of it, she felt her pussy moistening.

Looking over at her stepdaughter again, Annabel found herself wondering if she'd really been chosen at random, or if Carla had prearranged this. She never did find out.