Dominated By Her Stepdaughter Ch 40

Several hours later, when Carla and Annabel were finally dressing to leave, Carla asked, "So what do you call this stuff?"

Katya smiled. "The grower told me he calls it 'Mighty Aphrodite.' You maybe want some to take home?"

"Hell yeah," answered Carla. "How much do you have?"

"Well, I need to save some for myself. But I could sell you an ounce."

"Deal," said Carla.

As they completed the transaction, Katya looked over at Annabel and said, "Your... stepmother?" Here she paused, and Carla nodded to indicate she had it right. "She is becoming quite talented with the tongue, no? She has been getting a lot of practice?"

Carla grinned mischievously. "I try to keep her in shape."

Annabel was simultaneously embarrassed at being spoken of in such crude terms, and thrilled at the compliment Katya had given her. She had certainly learned a lot about how to please a woman. She wondered, was this a skill she would be using for the rest of her life? Or was it a short-term thing? The future was murky.

At the moment she felt pleasantly lethargic. As they drove home she sat back in the seat, enjoying the night and not thinking about much. Back at the house they brushed their teeth, tumbled together into Carla's bed, and were asleep within minutes.

* * *

When Annabel came downstairs in the morning Carla was already sitting out on the deck, wearing nothing but sunglasses, with a glass of orange juice in one hand and her favorite pipe in the other. Annabel had to smile to herself; she was constantly envious of her stepdaughter's ability to enjoy life to its fullest.

As Annabel put on water for tea, Carla came up from behind and wrapped one arm around her. "Morning," she said, kissing Annabel behind one ear.

Annabel sighed. "Good morning," she said. "It's nice to be home."

Carla offered Annabel a hit but she demurred. Carla shrugged and took another puff herself. She didn't often wake-and-bake, but every once in a while it could be a wonderful thing.

After breakfast they got dressed and headed into Santa Monica. There were still a couple of hours left before yoga class, but Carla had a hankering to do some shopping. Annabel suggested that she should drive, and though Carla knew she would have been fine behind the wheel, she didn't argue the point. It was nice to be chauffeured, anyway; Carla sat gazing contentedly out the window as Annabel drove them into town.

They ended up hitting pretty much every shop in town, looking for the sheerest, sexiest yoga pants on the market. Carla finally settled on a light gray pair that were barely more than pantyhose; the outlines of her pubic hair were clearly visible underneath. She bought the same pants in magenta for Annabel, whose blond bush was less obvious but still detectable. They made Annabel feel a little self-conscious, but Carla wanted her to wear them, so that was that.

They each also got a new top: Carla a black crop with a hole that displayed cleavage, Annabel a knit sweater top that showed off her toned shoulders. They enjoyed watching heads turn as they walked to the yoga studio. Even by L.A. standards, they were something to see.

As they set up their spaces Carla kept an eye on the door. The teacher had not appeared as of yet, and Carla fervently hoped that Asha would come walking in. At this point her high had settled down into a slow, simmering buzz and a pleasant warmth, stimulating but not insistent, was radiating from between her legs.

Annabel looked around for Dylan, who was nowhere to be seen. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, Annabel was impressed with how good she looked in the new clothes, and also amazed at how exposed she was. Was it even legal to walk down the street looking like this?

Then Asha appeared in the doorway, and both Carla and Annabel gaped. She looked even more beautiful than she had the last time, and seemed to float into the room without touching the ground.

She must be an incarnation of some goddess,

thought Carla, then inwardly made fun of herself for thinking that way.

You must be high.

The class was more challenging than the first one Carla had attended, and though she considered herself to be in good physical shape, she had a hard time keeping up. At one point, as everyone else was doing a downward dog, Carla sank onto her knees to rest. Looking around the room at all the rounded butts being thrust up into the air, straining against taut fabric of every color, Carla smiled and shook her head. How had she missed out on this all these years?

Carla sensed Asha's eyes on her, and turned to meet the Indian woman's gaze. Did Asha know, she wondered, the kind of thoughts that were going through her head as she ogled these gorgeous female forms? Carla didn't generally believe in ESP, but it seemed quite possible that Asha might be a mind-reader.

A look passed between them, but Carla couldn't tell exactly what was being communicated. Then the moment was over; Asha turned away and told the class to sink into child's pose.

After class Carla wanted to talk to Asha but she was surrounded before Carla could get there. The next class was about to start and the room was crowded with people, so Carla reluctantly turned to go. But before leaving she took a last, lingering look at the stunning yoga teacher, drinking in Asha's smooth brown skin; her big golden-brown eyes; her luxurious black hair; her perfectly toned and proportioned body. Carla promised herself that one way or another, she would find a way to get to know this woman better.

Back at home, Carla was in an indulgent mood. She stripped Annabel's yoga clothes off, blindfolded her, and led her out onto the deck. Laying Annabel out on a deck chair, Carla used the yoga straps she'd bought that morning to tie Annabel's wrists to the chair. Then she bound Annabel's ankles with a couple of bungee cords that were sitting nearby.

Struck by an idea, Carla got her phone, took a picture of her naked, bound stepmother, and sent it to Kim. Just the photo, no message or anything -- but Kim would get the idea. Then Carla decided to roll a joint; it wasn't the easiest way to smoke, but sometimes it was the best. She got her bag of weed and her rolling papers and sat down to wait.