Dominated by Her Stepdaughter Ch. 18

Late that afternoon, Carla announced that they had an errand to run. Annabel started to undo her collar but Carla waved her off. "Leave it on," she said. "We're only going one place, and I know everybody there. Nothing to worry about."

Nonetheless, Annabel was nervous as they headed down Highway 1. What if someone she knew saw her? Fortunately she didn't know that many people. And anyway, how could anyone know what the collar meant? It could be just a fashion statement. Fortunately Carla hadn't made her wear some slutty outfit this time; she was still in her regular jeans and T-shirt.

They got onto Santa Monica Boulevard and headed toward Hollywood, finally pulling up behind a cavernous building with a sign that said "Johnson's House of Costumes." Inside Carla led Annabel through a sort of labyrinth that threaded its way among a chaotic tangle of racks and mannequins displaying costumes of every kind, from monsters and military uniforms to superheroes, pirates, and aliens.

In a sort of clearing amidst the chaos they found a young woman sitting behind a desk, thoughtfully tapping a pencil on the desktop. She was really quite striking-looking, Annabel thought: smooth, dark-brown skin; high, regal cheekbones; and big, luminous brown eyes. When she stood up to greet them, she was several inches taller than Carla, and towered a full head above Annabel. She was wearing a tight halter top and short skirt that showed off her generous bosom, narrow waist, and ample, rounded butt.

"Hi Monica," said Carla, and they embraced. Carla and Monica had a history. They'd gone to high school together and, during senior year, had a passionate affair that lasted for several months. Carla still considered Monica the most beautiful girl she'd ever dated. Monica's father was black and Native American and her mother was from India, and she'd gotten the most fortuitous selection of genes from each side.

But they were both dominant personalities and in the end, they just hadn't been a good match. They still kept in touch, though, and Carla knew that Monica spent every summer working for the family business, this shop.

"Hi Carla," responded Monica sweetly. "How are you?"

"I'm good," answered Carla, and they spent a minute catching up. Finally Monica inquired what brought her in to the shop today, and Carla gestured toward Annabel. "I'm looking for a French maid costume for her. Something sexy."

Monica nodded, looking Annabel up and down, eyes lingering only briefly on the collar around her neck. "I know just the thing. Back in a flash." With that, she disappeared into the warehouse, leaving Carla and Annabel alone. Carla pulled Annabel close and kissed her on the lips, long and hard, making Annabel's nipples start to stiffen and her pussy start to dampen. They separated just as Monica returned carrying a frilly black-and-white lace costume.

Carla helped Annabel off with her T-shirt and jeans, leaving her in just bra and panties. Annabel felt a bit embarrassed being exposed this way in front of a stranger, especially since a customer could walk in on them at any time. (Unbeknownst to her Monica had just locked the front door, as it was closing time anyway, and she felt like some privacy might be good.)

"No need for the bra," said Monica. "The costume has a framework built in." Carla unhooked Annabel's bra and pulled it off, leaving her jutting nipples uncovered. Being exposed this way only made her more excited, making her condition that much worse. There was a definite sexual tension in the air, and Annabel wondered what these two strong, lovely young women might have in mind for her.

Monica and Carla worked together to get Annabel into the costume, which was very tight and constricting, with an extremely short skirt that ended just below her butt. Her breasts were shaped and lifted by the bodice, displaying a substantial amount of cleavage.

Carla emitted a low whistle. "Very nice. You have stockings and a garter to go with it?"

"Naturally," replied Monica, plunging into the stacks one again. Carla took the opportunity to fondle Annabel's rear end, which was highly accessible in this outfit. Monica returned a minute later, and soon long black stockings and a matching garter belt were added to Annabel's ensemble. She could see herself in a mirror in the corner, and she had to admit that she looked smoking hot, if a little depraved.

"Perfect," said Carla, "we'll take it."

"Cool," responded Monica. "You want it packed up, or will she wear it out?"

Carla considered. "Better pack it up. We don't want to start a riot." She and Monica both laughed, and Annabel began to change as Monica and Carla whispered to each other.

"So that's..." began Monica.

"My father's wife, yeah," nodded Carla.

Monica shook her head. "You're incorrigible."

Annabel had just stripped back down to her panties and was about to start dressing again when Carla spotted a blue-and-white cheerleader outfit on a mannequin to the left of where they were standing. Suddenly a light bulb went on in her head.

"Hey Annabel," she said, looking over at her stepmother. "I bet you were a cheerleader, weren't you?"

Somewhat reluctantly, Annabel nodded. She had in fact been a cheerleader in high school, dated a football player, the whole nine yards.

"Why don't you try that on?" said Carla. Turning to Monica, she asked, "You don't mind, do you?"

"Certainly not," answered Monica, walking over to the mannequin to get the costume for Annabel. It fit like a glove, and Carla smiled wickedly at her stepmother, handing her the pom-poms that the mannequin had been holding. "Do a cheer for us," she instructed.

Annabel blushed. "I guess I remember... something," she said hesitantly.

"Wait, wait," said Monica. She pulled her chair out from behind the desk and sat it down next to another chair that faced where Annabel was standing. "Here's the scene. We're the, like, captains of the cheerleading team," she said to Carla. "And she's the new girl auditioning."

"Ooh, good one," said Carla, and she and Monica sat down and looked over at Annabel expectantly.

* * *

Annabel tried to think back to high school. It hadn't been such a long time ago, really, but it seemed like another lifetime from where she was now. She pictured a Friday afternoon in her hometown -- the teams, the crowd, the marching band... after a minute, she started to feel the atmosphere, the rhythm. She took a deep breath and began to move.

Once she took the first step, it all started coming back to her. She did some kicks, some leaps... waved her pom-poms while spelling out the name of her school... and wound up by doing the splits on the floor. Thanks to all her yoga practice, she could do them better now than she could back in high school.

She'd been so caught up in her memories that she was a little startled to be brought back into the moment by the sound of applause. She looked over at Monica and Carla, suddenly remembering that she was not a teenager on a football field, but a grown woman on the floor of a costume shop.

"Very nice," Monica. "What do you think?"

"Not bad," answered Carla. "But I'd like to see it one more time." She stood up from her chair and helped Annabel to her feet. "With one little difference." Bending at the waist, Carla reached down under Annabel's skirt and pulled her panties down and off. Then she got back into her seat and said, "Take it from the top."

This time, whenever Annabel jumped and her skirt bounced, her blond pubic hair was clearly visible. Every time she kicked, she flashed her pussy. And when she did the splits she could feel the tender flesh of her crotch pressed against the carpet.

"Better," said Carla. "But I don't know...."

"Yeah," chimed in Monica, "you're pretty good, but we have a lot of candidates. How badly do you want to make the team?"

Annabel looked over at the two young women. This whole situation had gotten her very aroused, and she had an inkling of what Monica was really asking her. "Real bad," she answered.

"Well, come over here then," said Monica. Annabel began to knee-walk toward Monica was while looking over at Carla, who nodded approvingly. When Annabel arrived, Monica took hold of the ring of her collar and pulled her closer for a kiss.

Annabel loved the feeling of Monica's lips; they were substantial, juicy, pillowy soft. Monica's tongue pushed into her mouth and Annabel felt herself melting, yielding. She was more than ready to give up control and surrender to whatever was going to happen.

Pulling away, Monica stripped off her top to reveal a truly magnificent set of tits topped by thick, dark-brown nipples. Monica pulled Annabel down to her chest and the older woman did not resist. She took each of Monica's nipples into her mouth, feeling them on her tongue, nibbling on them gently as Monica moaned.

Getting into it now, Annabel tried to take one of Monica's boobs into her mouth, but she was not up to the task. She opened her jaws as far as she could but still only managed about half of it. Monica appreciated the effort, though, and she stroked the back of Annabel's head as Annabel moved on to the other breast.

Carla looked on, content to observe for now, as Monica sat up in her chair, lifting her skirt to reveal a skimpy black thong. Then she raised herself up and, in one swift motion, yanked the thong off and flung it away in Carla's general direction. She spread her legs wide, displaying dark pussy lips that contrasted starkly with the hint of bright pink visible inside.

Annabel had only a moment to gaze into Monica's cunt -- wondering what it would taste like, if it would be different from the ones she'd known so far -- before Monica grabbed her by the collar and pulled her in.