Dominated By Her Stepdaughter Ch 55

As the morning light gradually came streaming into the house, Carla began to see all the ways in which it was not as clean as she would have liked with a big party coming up. Although Annabel took pride in doing her own housecleaning, her standards were not as high as Carla's, a situation that would have to be rectified.

Carla declared that the day would be devoted to cleaning, and furthermore that no clothing would be worn during the process. And so after breakfast they began to move from room to room, Annabel wearing only gloves and her collar, and Carla nothing at all. Annabel did the bulk of the work; Carla occasionally pitched in, but more often distracted Annabel by fondling or fingering her. Several times this led to them 69ing on the floor for an extended period during which nothing was accomplished.

By late in the afternoon the house was sparkling clean and they had fucked in just about every room. Carla suggested that they go out to a nice restaurant as a reward for their day's accomplishments, and so they showered and dressed up, Annabel in a short red cocktail dress and Carla in a relatively conservative black gown.

The restaurant they went to was one of Carla's very favorites, an upscale Italian place with a creative menu and a spectacular wine list. She had also noticed that for some reason it seemed to attract an unnatural number of beautiful women. This night was no different. The customers included several straight couples, some families, and a few groups of women -- but every female in the place, of whatever age, was exquisitely lovely.

The waitress was also a looker, a tall young woman with dark hair who could have passed for Carla's older sister. Her nametag said "Jude." When she handed them menus Carla saw her gaze linger for a moment on Annabel's neck. Only then did Carla notice that Annabel was still wearing her collar -- she had simply forgotten to take it off. Carla smiled and bit her lip, looking meaningfully into Jude's dazzling green eyes.

The hint of a grin curled Jude's lips on one side, and she met Carla's stare with a level gaze that nonetheless had something knowing in it. Carla immediately imagined the three of them writhing naked on a bed -- she'd never made love to anyone who looked so much like her.

But Jude quickly resumed her professional demeanor and took their drink orders. When she returned with their bottle of wine Carla tried to flirt with her, but she didn't take the bait -- it might have been that she was just too busy, as the restaurant was really hopping. As soon as they'd ordered their meals Jude was off to her next table.

Carla sipped her wine and looked around at the other diners. There were many fine specimens but eventually her eyes settled on two women sitting at the very opposite end of the restaurant. The younger of the two looked to be about Carla's age and was an absolute stunner -- half-Japanese, Carla guessed, with gorgeously soft skin and the face of an angel. She also, Carla noticed, was wearing a collar -- though hers was thinner than Annabel's and had a little lock dangling from it.

The older woman was close to Annabel's age, maybe a few years older, with dark blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her appearance was very prim and proper but there was something sensual, almost depraved, about her face. Carla decided that the younger woman she was with was her stepdaughter, and also her submissive lover.

Of course Carla's mind began racing with ideas of all the fun things the four of them could do together. She would start by trading slaves, having Annabel go down on the older woman while the younger one licked Carla's own pussy. Imagining that beautiful head down between her legs, Carla felt her juices begin to flow.

Just then the blonde turned and appeared to look straight at Carla. Though she rarely felt embarrassed to be caught looking, Carla felt momentarily abashed, imagining that the woman knew everything that had been going on in her head. It turned out she hadn't even seen Carla and was looking around for her waitress. Still Carla felt chastened and returned to her attention to Annabel.

But now and again during the meal Carla glanced over again at the two women. Their body language definitely indicated that they were intimate -- they were sitting very close together, with their heads often inclined toward each other, talking in low voices and smiling enigmatically.

By the time they finished their meal Carla had three glasses of wine in her and was feeling bold. Leaving Annabel at the table, she went out to the car and grabbed two party invitations out of the back seat. Back inside she marched right up to the table where the two women were sitting; they looked at her curiously and waited for her to speak.

"Sorry to interrupt your meal," said Carla.

"Not a problem at all," answered the older woman. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Carla studied the two of them, happy to have a chance to look them over up close and without trying to be subtle about it. Had she seen them before? At Blair's, at a bar, at yoga? It was possible, but she felt like she would have remembered them. "I'm not sure, to tell the truth," she said.

"Hmm," purred the blonde. "You do look familiar. Anyway, what can we do for you?"

Carla sat the invitation down on the table. "This is kind of random, but I'm having a party on the 4th of July, and I thought you might like to come." She didn't put any emphasis on the word "come," but she let it hang in the air for a moment. "It's always fun to meet new people."

The two of them studied the invitation for a few seconds. "Our schedule is a little up in the air at this point," said the older woman finally. "But we might be able to squeeze it in. Thank you for the invitation."

"You're welcome," said Carla. "Hope to see you." As she turned to go the younger woman favored her with a big smile that warmed her heart and made her tingle between the legs.

Only when she got back to her own table did Carla realize that she'd neglected to introduce herself or to ask the two ladies for their names. She shrugged; she was glad she'd at least made the approach. Maybe something would come of it, maybe it wouldn't.

The two women left soon after, glancing back at Carla and Annabel as they did and whispering to each other. They laughed and waved before heading out the door.

Carla and Annabel dawdled over dessert and coffee, and when their check finally came Carla left Jude an invitation along with a generous tip. Outside the night was warm and the last rays of sunlight were still lingering in the sky. Carla took a deep breath and pondered their next move.

* * *

After thinking about it for a few minutes, Carla decided on another trip to the same bar they'd visited two nights before, wanting to be someplace comfortable and familiar. She may also have had in the back of her mind the idea of a return engagement with Amira and Loren, but they were nowhere to be seen. In fact it was a very slow night at the bar, with only a handful of customers present.

Instead of the jazz band, music was being provided by a lone girl with an acoustic guitar. She was playing and singing quietly, and her face was mostly hidden behind an asymmetrical -- and, Carla thought, not terribly flattering -- haircut. All that was visible was a wave of light brown hair streaked with a few lines of scarlet dye.

Carla and Annabel got their drinks and sat down at a corner table. There was a soft murmur of conversation in the room, but Carla kept finding her attention drawn back to the musician, who seemed to be playing one incredibly sad song after another. She did not have the best voice, but there was something compelling about her performance. She radiated sincerity, making the listener really feel her emotions, and wish they could do something to help her.

After a few songs they moved closer and Carla gazed into her face, trying to get a better look and make eye contact if she could. Finally the girl shook her head and the hair swept to one side, revealing a lovely, fine-featured face and the biggest, saddest brown eyes Carla had ever seen. Seeing Carla look at her, the musician smiled shyly and shook her head again, causing a tumble of hair to once again fall across her face.

At first Annabel was a little put out at Carla's focus on the young singer, who didn't appear to be old enough to actually drink in the bar she was playing in. But eventually she too was won over, and she sensed something different about Carla's interest in this girl. Carla eyes were not burning with lust, but dewy with tender feeling.

When the set was over Carla clapped loudly and enthusiastically, and Annabel quickly joined in. When the girl peered out at them from behind her hair it was clear that she was blushing, embarrassed by the ardency of their response.

A guitar case was open on the ground with only a couple of loose dollars in it. Carla opened her purse, took out all the cash inside -- about $50 -- and dropped it into the case. Taken aback, the singer stood up and sat her guitar down in the chair she'd just vacated. She was tallish, with a body shape undefined under a flannel shirt and loose jeans. It appeared that she was starting to say something -- her mouth moved, but nothing came out.

Carla started to chat her up, and though she was quiet at first, after a few minutes she began to open up. Carla bought all of three of them drinks and they huddled together at a quiet table. Over the next hour Carla learned the following: The singer's name was Lissa, and she had moved from Wisconsin to L.A. about a year ago to try and make it in the music business. It had not gone well -- she was a shy and quiet person with no gift for self-promotion, and though she'd made a couple of contacts with producers, both of them had turned out to want to fuck her before they'd do anything to help her career.

In the meantime she'd quickly burned through her savings and though she'd had a number of day jobs, she kept losing them for one reason or another. Three times she'd moved to a smaller apartment, and just that day she'd been evicted from the latest one. Everything she still owned -- a duffel bag full of clothes and her guitar -- she had with her at the bar. She'd been hoping to make enough in tips that night to get a hotel room, but even with Carla's generous contribution she was falling short.

Both Carla and Annabel felt warmly sympathetic to Lissa's plight, and Carla did not hesitate to invite her to spend the night with them. She was hesitant to accept, stuttering "Gee, that's awfully nice of you, but..."

Carla waved her off. "I'm not taking no for an answer," said Carla firmly. When she had made up her mind about something, her voice carried a lot of authority; Lissa didn't argue any further. Carla was happy; it felt very satisfying, actually, to be able to help someone who really needed it.

By now the bar was about to close, so they loaded Lissa and her stuff into the car and drove home. Annabel set Lissa up in the guest room and all three of them called it a night. Upon crawling into bed Annabel kissed Carla warmly and cuddled up on her shoulder, touched by the way she'd shown generosity to a stranger in need.

* * *

By the time Carla and Annabel came downstairs in the morning, Lissa had already showered and dressed, and had mixed a bowl of eggs that she then threw on the stove to make omelets for everyone. She seemed much more lively than the night before, refreshed perhaps by a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed.

"Your house is so beautiful," said Lissa. "This is the kind of place people dream of living in."

Carla looked around; it was hard to argue with her. The sun was shining on the ocean, reflecting dazzling ripples of light into the kitchen. Carla was struck suddenly by how lucky she was to live the way she did. She may have had issues with her father, but her there was certainly no faulting the way he provided.

Lissa was a gifted cook, it turned out; the omelets were phenomenally delicious and Carla wolfed hers down with embarrassing speed. When Lissa offered to make her another, Carla hesitated only briefly before saying OK.

Carla studied Lissa as she cooked. She was a pretty girl with wonderful eyes, it was just a shame about that haircut. Well, that was situation that could be rectified. As a matter of fact, she and Annabel were in need of a little neatening up, so Carla called her stylist and made appointments for all three of them.

After breakfast Annabel did the dishes and Carla took Lissa out onto the deck. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Lissa looked every bit like the wholesome Midwestern girl she was, or at least had been. Carla found it strange that she hadn't once thought about Lissa in a sexual way. It wasn't that she was unattractive; more that she seemed like such a lost soul, it was hard to feel sorry for her and lust after her at the same time.

Carla wondered what Lissa thought her and Annabel's relationship was. Annabel had been wearing her collar since the previous night, but she and Carla hadn't been particularly demonstrative in Lissa's presence. Still, Lissa had to know there was something between them.

At the stylist Carla and Annabel just got trims, but Lissa emerged with a chic little bob that revealed much more of her face, changing her appearance dramatically. Feeling beneficent, Carla treated all of them to mani/pedis, then they went clothes shopping. At Carla's behest Lissa tried on dozens of different outfits before settling on a flowery summer dress that completed her transformation into a whole different person.

At one point Lissa balked at having so much money spent on her, and Carla told her not to worry about it. "My father has more money than God," she said. "It's a pleasure to spend some of it on someone other than myself." She had almost said "someone who really needs it," but stopped herself just in time; she wanted to build Lissa up, not tear her down.

After shopping they had a late lunch and then went to a yoga class. Carla insisted on treating Lissa to yoga clothes from the studio's boutique, and upon seeing her in them, found her libido beginning to rev. Lissa was long and lithe, with a perfectly rounded little butt and high, well-formed breasts. The top she was wearing showed off her narrow waist and a lean, flat belly that any model would have been proud of; it was probably the result of poverty as much as anything, but it looked good.

The teacher of the class was an older woman with short hair who was in great shape for her age but not Carla's type. She was glad; she was suddenly feeling horny and the sight of Asha might have driven her into a frenzy. As it was, Carla had a hard time concentrating on the poses. Looking around at the many lovely women in the room, and at the two splendid specimens on either side of her, she felt a distinct tingle between her legs. Something would have to be done about that sooner or later.