Dominated By Her Stepdaughter Ch 45

When the show was over and the crowd had started to disperse, Carla was struck with an idea. She'd noticed that though Blair had left her two co-stars in the last scene well-satisfied, she'd never been pleasured herself. This might create the opportunity, Carla thought, for a bit of fun. Standing Annabel up, Carla took her by the arm and guided her up onto the stage, then all the way to the back.

They found Blair in her dressing room, a small but neat space with a single full-length mirror, a large rack of clothes in the corner, and numerous implements of punishment on the walls. The door was open and Blair was sitting there topless, rubbing lotion into her breasts; Carla found herself completely hypnotized, standing in the doorway watching, and momentarily forgot why she had come. Finally she shook her head, reminding herself that it was rude to spy, and knocked gently on the open door.

Blair looked over at them and said "Oh, hi." She did not look in any way surprised or put out to be interrupted in the midst of her ablutions.

"Is it OK if we come in?" asked Carla.

"Sure, of course," said Blair. "How did you like the show?"

"Amazing," said Carla. "As usual." Taking Annabel by the arm and pulling her forward, Carla added, "You remember my... um, my friend, Annabel?"

"Of course," answered Blair. "Great to see you again." Annabel blushed, thinking back to her experience on stage, and mumbled a greeting without making eye contact. Turning back to Carla, Blair said, "Remind me... what was your name again, sweetheart?"

"Carla."

"Right, sorry...." Blair looked up for a moment, thinking back. "Aah, yes, the hood. I remember. That was a good one."

"Yeah," said Carla. "So anyway, we couldn't help but notice that you didn't really get your... just desserts in that last scene." Blair raised one eyebrow. "Annabel thought she might be able to help with that. She has a very talented tongue, you know."

Annabel blushed again, both pleased with the compliment and abashed to hear herself offered so crudely. Is this what I've come to, she thought, to have my sexual services so casually dispensed? But the worst of it was that now, having been given the idea, she wanted to do it more than anything. She would be gravely disappointed if Blair declined the offer.

After looking Annabel over for a few seconds Blair answered. "That's a very thoughtful offer," she said. "It would be impolite of me to refuse." Unhurriedly and matter-of-factly, she pulled off her leather pants, then unharnessed her strap-on and set it aside. She spread her legs to reveal a glistening pink slit framed with slightly matted dark blond pubic hair.

After a glance over at Carla, who nodded encouragement, Annabel took two steps forward and sank to her knees. Planting a kiss on each of Blair's taut, toned inner thighs, she felt Blair's muscles contract, smelled her powerful scent, heard her emit a sweet little sigh.

As Annabel began to lap at Blair's pussy, Carla got out her vape pen and leaned against the wall. She took a long draw and offered it to Blair, who demurred. Carla shrugged and took another hit, feeling like she'd done her good deed for the day.

* * *

Afterwards Carla and Annabel went back to the front of the house, which was now mostly empty. They sat down at the bar, ordered drinks, and chatted for a while with the bartender, whose name was Loren. Carla found her very charming; she was smart and funny, and though her short haircut was somewhat severe, she had a friendly smile.

Eventually they were the only ones left in the bar and Loren said, "It's closing time but you guys are welcome to stick around." Carla assented and Loren went to lock the front door. When she returned she climbed up on a stepladder and retrieved something from the top shelf. It turned out to be a bottle of top-quality Armagnac, which she sat down on the bar along with three snifters.

Loren poured them each a generous serving and lifted her drink. "Here's to new friends," she toasted, and they clinked glasses. The Armagnac was smooth and delicious, among the best Carla had ever tasted. She drained almost half her snifter in one long sip, then reproved herself; you're not supposed to gulp good liquor like that.

"So how did you guys meet?" asked Loren.

"Well..." said Carla, looking over at Annabel, who turned away shyly, "actually... she's married to my father."

"Really?" said Loren, lifting an eyebrow. "Scandalous," she purred.

As Loren listened attentively, Carla related an abbreviated version of how their affair had started and recounted a few of their escapades. Feeling drunk, happy, and free, she bragged about the degree of control she had over her stepmother, describing some of the things Annabel had done at her behest.

"So she'll do whatever you tell her?" asked Loren.

"Pretty much," said Carla, again glancing over at Annabel. She was looking down and blushing slightly, but her heart was pounding and the juices were flowing between her legs; something was afoot here, clearly, and it seemed likely to be something exciting.

"Make her strip for us," suggested Loren. Annabel turned to Carla, who nodded. Annabel sighed. Whether she wanted to or not, she knew that was going to end up doing it; she might as well get used to the idea. She drained the rest of the golden liquid from her snifter, feeling warmth suffuse her body as Loren put some music on the sound system.

Soon Annabel found herself up on stage again, but alone this time, as Carla and Loren sat on chairs at the foot of the stage. She started to move with the music, tentatively at first; but fortunately it was a good song with a sinuous bassline, and her inhibitions quickly loosened.

"Take it off!" yelled Loren. Obligingly Annabel reached behind her and, after fumbling for a moment, got her dress unzipped in back. She pulled it down to reveal her bra, a black push-up number that exaggerated her already generous bosom.

Loren whistled and Annabel, encouraged by rapt attention and positive feedback from her audience of two, began to do a real striptease. Working it for maximum effect, she unsnapped the bra from behind, pulled each strap down off her shoulders, then eased the cups gently off her breasts. Finally she pulled the bra all the way off and tossed to to Loren, who caught it and draped it over one shoulder.

Still dancing, Annabel slowly pulled her dress down over her waist and hips, then let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it and resumed dancing in just her panties and heels.

"Take it all off," encouraged Loren, who had unbuttoned her jeans and slid a hand down between her legs. Carla, likewise, was touching herself with one hand while sipping brandy with the other.

Annabel's nipples were as hard as they could be and she began to play with them, teasing and taunting, feeling that she was now the one in control. When she felt good and ready she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties, easing them gradually down around her thighs, her knees, and then her ankles.

Loren was frigging herself furiously as Annabel stepped one foot out of her panties and used the other to kick them toward the audience. Her aim was bad and they landed a few feet behind Loren, who wasted no time retrieving them and bringing them to her face for a long sniff.

Carla watched happily as Loren tugged off her jeans. Underneath she was wearing a pair of boyish tighty-whities which soon joined her jeans on the floor. Loren sat down again with her legs spread wide, Annabel's panties still plastered to her face. Her brown pubic hair was shaved into a narrow racing stripe -- a style that Carla usually found gauche, but on Loren it somehow worked.

Feeling powerful and uninhibited, Annabel squatted, displaying her wet pink cunt to the onlookers. "Oh, God," muttered Loren through the panties covering her face.

Carla nodded to Annabel and tilted her head toward Loren. And so, after climbing down off the stage, Annabel once again found herself on her knees giving head to a virtual stranger for the amusement of her young lover. Not that she didn't enjoy it -- Loren was delicious, and quite demonstrative in her responses to Annabel's ministrations -- but that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was pleasing Carla, who rubbed herself with increasing fervor as she watched Annabel eat Loren's pussy.

Absorbed as they were in what they were doing, and with loud music still booming through the room, none of them noticed when a key turned in the locked front door.