Nefarious Stepmom Pt. 01

Please note: This is my first attempt at erotic fiction. I thought I'd give it a try, and I hope you enjoy it! But--apologies if I missed the mark. Part 2 still to come if anyone's interested.

"Please, just give her a chance."

Natasha sighed into the phone. This wasn't the first time her father had made this plea. Frankly, after the first dozen "potential stepmoms" that had come in and out of their lives, she had lost count.

"What are you gonna say next? 'I think she might really be the one, Tasha'?" she joked as she poured a cupful of black coffee into her thermos, a crucial part of her morning routine before heading to the office.

"Well, now that you mention it..." he answered slyly, his smirk evident even over the phone.

Her father was nothing if not predictable. Unfortunately, for a multi-million dollar, globe-trotting, award-winning actor, Cliff Emmerich was pretty damn naive too.

Natasha sealed up the thermos, grabbed her keys and briefcase off the wall rack, and walked out into the sunny, Southern California morning. "She's literally half your age, Dad. I don't trust her."

"So? What about George Clooney and Amal? They seem happy."

"That's, like, a 15-year gap. You're sixty and she's thirty. I'm almost thirty."

"Don't make it sound weird, Tasha. Come on, just meet her at least. You know I trust your opinion, and I need to know what you think of her. I said the two of you could have lunch at Maestro's this afternoon. I'll have Sam make the reservation for my table in the back."

"I'd rather have lunch with you," she admitted, sliding into the driver's seat of her BMW coupe.

"I wish I could, but I'm on set all day. We'll meet up before I have to head to London for the re-shoots though, I promise...And I promise you'd be doing me a big favor if you met her for lunch today."

Natasha sighed again.

"Please, sweetheart," Cliff persisted. "Can you help me out?"

That was another one of Cliff's favorite phrases. It wasn't like Natasha didn't help him often. In fact, she practically took care of him, rather than the other way around. Not that she minded much. After all, he was her father, and she loved him unconditionally.

Although only 28 (and a raven-haired, olive-skinned beauty) Natasha Emmerich was also an experienced contract lawyer and advisor to her father, having spent the last 3 years working at the MVV law firm in Santa Monica, quickly ascending to the role of junior partner. Cliff of course had his own agents and attorneys, but Natasha's eagle-eyed precision helped catch many problematic clauses in his various film and television agreements that others often missed. Plus, she was helpful at getting him out of sticky situations--namely, swooping in on the red carpet when Cliff veered off topic and into sensitive or "politically incorrect" territory. A couple of her "red carpet saves" had even gone viral, spreading across YouTube with comments ranging from the professional--"Talk about a good PR assist!"--to the pervy--"DAMN! No wonder Cliffy brings his daughter as his date. What a hot piece of ass!"

In any case, Natasha was always there for her father. And she figured, this time should be no different.

"Fine, but I can only spare an hour, and I have to be back at the office by two."

"You got it! I'll make it for twelve-thirty. Thanks for this, Tasha. I know she's excited to meet you."

As she drove toward the 405, Natasha made one final request. "Tell me her full name again."

***********************

Natasha was waiting at her father's private booth for ten minutes when the woman walked in.

She looked just like Natasha had imagined--at least, at first glance. She had long brunette hair, fair skin, and a tall figure, squeezed into a black, sleeveless dress.

Dad certainly has a type, Natasha thought.

But as the woman neared the table, Natasha was surprised to see that--frankly--she wasn't that pretty. It wasn't that she was unattractive, per se, but she certainly didn't have the level of vapid, exotic beauty Natasha had come to expect from her father's girlfriends.

Maybe he's finally growing up, Natasha hoped.

The woman's arms stuck out from what Natasha guessed was a size 16, and her thick neck ended in a weak jawline that caused her face to look rectangular and blocky. But still, she carried a Prada bag over her right shoulder and wore designer sunglasses, even as she wandered into the back of the darkened restaurant. From that alone, the woman looked like someone who had money and liked to flaunt it. Or more accurately, she looked like someone who wanted to look like she had money.

Nope, just another gold digger...

"You must be Tasha!" the woman said, opting for the nickname.

"Natasha," she responded, staying firm and formal. "And you must be Olivia Jarilo."

Olivia sat down, and up close, Natasha was still struck by her blandness and average features. She wasn't even wearing makeup, exposing a face of unsmooth skin; and her smile, although straight, showed too much gum to be truly appealing. But once she removed her sunglasses and set them on the table, Olivia displayed a pair of uncommonly beautiful, green eyes, definitely her most alluring feature.

"I'm so happy we're finally meeting! Your father's told me so much about you, and your sister, Heather."

"I'm sure," Natasha said, already wanting to skip the small talk. The mention of her younger sister, who was starting her freshman year at Cornell, gave Natasha the determination to remain stern and serious in her cross examination of Olivia.

To think, this young woman could one day be her stepmom--Stepmom #3, to be precise, since their mom tragically passed away from a brain tumor fifteen years ago. Some day soon, Olivia might be in charge of taking care of and being a mother to Heather--unless Natasha stepped in and put an end to this ridiculous, age-inappropriate relationship.

"So, tell me about yourself. How did you and my father meet, exactly?" she questioned.

"Oh, it was on the set of Blue Shadow. I was just doing a set visit--I'm sure Cliff told you, Monica Strauss and I are old friends, from well before she won her Oscar. Well, Monica for some reason thought your father and I would hit it off and insisted that we go out for drinks after the shoot. And I guess the rest is history."

"Right." Natasha nodded along, unimpressed with Olivia's dull, unromantic retelling of events. "I know my dad's a charming guy, but you weren't put off by his age? I mean, it's double yours, after all."

Olivia shook her head and swatted at the air as if to say, oh please. "Not at all, honestly. Like you said, he's a charming guy, and I happen to like the silver fox look. But then again, my tastes are pretty...eclectic..." she trailed off, ending on a strange and unusual note.

"And what is it you do for a living? My dad didn't clarify."

"I work in finance."

Natasha waited for further explanation, but none came.

"Right, that's what he told me. But that's pretty vague...Frankly, a lot of you is pretty vague. You told my dad you're 'Olivia Jarilo from Phoenix', but I have my doubts."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did you do some snooping on me?"

Natasha smirked in response. "I wouldn't call it snooping. When someone intends on dating my father, I intend on finding out all I can about them. Just to make sure they're...shall we say, honest."

"And?" Olivia asked, seeming to enjoy this interrogation. "What did your little background check find?"

"That's just it--nothing. Your social media presence, your entire internet presence is nonexistent. And in this day, in this town, moving in the circles you move in...I'd say that's pretty rare."

Just at that moment, the Emmerichs' usual waitress, Annette, hurried over into their private section.

As she approached, Olivia muttered something under her breath. Natasha wasn't 100% sure what was said, but what she thought she heard didn't make much sense: "Good. It's a female."

"Hello, Ms. Emmerich," the waitress cut in. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. What I can I--"

"Excuse me," Olivia interrupted.

The waitress turned away from Natasha and stared at Olivia. A strange, slack expression fell across Annette's face as Olivia spoke.

"We need to have a private discussion. Make sure that no one disturbs us whatsoever. Natasha here will come find you when we're ready to order. Until then, you may go."

With absolute docility, the waitress nodded her head and stared only at Olivia, as if Natasha wasn't even in the room. "Understood," she said. Then she scurried away.

"Excuse me!" Natasha mirrored Olivia's words back at her. "What do you think you're doing? You have no right to boss her and me around like that."

Olivia sighed in response with a strange hint of melancholy. And this time, she muttered something at full volume that--once again--made no sense to Natasha. "It'd be so simple if I could do this to males too. Then I could get to the sex and the money so easily, y'know?"

Natasha shook her head. "No, I don't. Now can you explain to me who the hell you are?"

But Olivia didn't answer. Instead, she only stared back at Natasha...directly into her eyes...longingly...and lovingly....

Natasha's jaw slackened slightly as she stared into Olivia's green eyes. Natasha didn't know how, but it looked as if Olivia's eyes had gotten much greener, impossibly green, like they were glowing and pulsating with neon light.

They look...so beautiful...she thought.

If Natasha had been facing a mirror, she would have seen her own irises filled with that same glowing green, circling around and around her pupils in an infinite, hypnotic spiral.

"Tell me the truth, Natasha...." Olivia began.

"Okay," she replied instantly.

"First question: If I want to marry your father, I need your approval, don't I?"

Natasha nodded. "Yes. He trusts my opinion. He knows I'm a good judge of character. He wouldn't marry someone I don't approve of."

"I thought as much. Second question...are you straight?"

Natasha mindlessly nodded her head. "Yes."

"And single?"

Another nod.

"Have you ever had a sexual experience with a woman?"

Her head shook. "No. Never."

Olivia grinned. "Well, for me, you'll make an exception."

"Make an exception?..." Natasha's voice trailed off.

"Precisely. Now I want to tell you the truth...The person I'm most interested in isn't your father....it's you."

Natasha's jaw slackened further. "It is?..."

"Yes. Ever since I saw you online, in those videos with Cliff on the red carpet, I've been...enamored with you...In fact...I think I'm in love with you."

Natasha nodded her understanding, her head subtly tilting to one side. "In love with me..."

"I've only been using your father to get to you. Because I understand how you feel...I saw who you really were in those videos...behind those eyes of yours...You're tired of always having to take charge and protect your father..."

"Yes...tired..."

"You want to be able to just let go....and obey."

"I want to let go...and obey...."

"In fact, deep down, you've always wanted to be a sex slave."

"...I've always wanted to be....a sex slave."

As the words poured from Natasha's salivating mouth and the green glow continued to spiral around her irises, all these thoughts--these hidden truths--ran through Natasha's mind: God, Olivia is so right. I'm tired of being everyone's protector....I want to be who I was always meant to be...a sex slave...I'd give anything for that...

"You need a strong, female figure in your life."

"...need a strong female figure..."

"Someone to obey."

"...obey..."

"And I want someone to command."

The green spirals swirled faster and faster around Natasha's eyes, the glow brightening, and her brain made the precise connection it was meant to make.

"...command me..."

Now Olivia leaned forward, going in for the kill.

"You're extremely attracted to me."

"...I'm extremely attracted to you."

"You love me, and want to obey me."

"...love you, and want to obey you."

"You want to be my sex slave."

"I want to be your sex slave," Natasha confirmed, almost moaning in response.

"And I want you to be my sex slave--for as long as you live."

"Your sex slave...as long as I live."

"But to ensure that happens, you must convince your father to marry me."

"I must convince my father to marry you."

"I must become your stepmom."

Natasha nodded vigorously, each successive command becoming more and more ingrained in her mind. "You must become my stepmom."

"That way, I get your father's money, and I get you as my very own sex slave for life. It's the perfect plan."

"...perfect plan."

"And you'll do whatever it takes to help me pull it off."

"Whatever it takes..."

Gradually, the green glow faded from Olivia's eyes.

And a few seconds later, when Natasha finally blinked, the spirals vanished. It was then that she looked normal once again--or, almost normal. If anyone looked closely, they would see that Natasha's dark brown eyes were unusually dilated. And they would remain that way for at least the next 24 hours.

Natasha straightened her head and continued to lock eyes with Olivia. This time, Natasha smiled from ear-to-ear with love-struck giddiness.

What the hell was I thinking? Those thick arms...that wide neck...the soft jawline...the Roman nose...Olivia has the sexiest features I've EVER seen! Natasha decided, now utterly and completely brainwashed by her future stepmom. No wonder she doesn't wear makeup--she doesn't need it. She's SO hot, so attractive. I'd give anything to fuck her. Who cares if she's a woman and I'm straight? For her, I can make an exception...

And the deeper she fell in love with Olivia, the deeper her own self-perception changed...

W hy did it take me so long to realize what I am?--a submissive slave. It makes perfect sense! Isn't it a known fact that those with the most power in their lives--the CEOs and businessmen and high-powered attorneys--often leave work and go home to get spanked by some dominatrix? After a long, hard day, they crave the chance to let go and obey, to let someone else make the decisions, the commands...and God, how I crave that too. If it hadn't been for Olivia, I wouldn't have realized that. I'd still be going through life lost and confused...I owe her everything.

"So, Natasha," Olivia said, as if continuing a perfectly normal conversation. "What do you think of my plan?"

"I think it's perfect," she answered instantly. "And I promise, Olivia, I won't let you down. I'll be the best stepdaughter and slave you could ever ask for." Natasha exhaled contentedly, fantasizing about the life ahead. "I'm just so honored and grateful that you chose me."

Olivia reached across the table and placed her right hand on Natasha's left. From just that touch alone, Natasha felt a sexual thrill jolt through her body. "Of course, Natasha. Like I said before, I'm in love with you."

Natasha felt her heart race. "I'm in love with you too." She bowed her head, staring at the beautiful, pale hand above hers. Then she bent forward and kissed it.

Instinctively, Natasha took Olivia's hand in her right, raising it up and kissing it devoutly and repeatedly, as if it were the hand of a beloved monarch's. Between wet kisses, she repeated over and over again: "I love you."

Olivia smiled, pleased with how firmly the brainwashing had taken hold. She extended her index finger, and without even being asked, Natasha accepted it, placing it in her mouth and sucking it up and down, closing her eyes as she did so.

"Excellent," Olivia purred. "You're such a good girl."

"Yes," Natasha agreed, once she slid the finger off her tongue. "I'll be your good girl, Olivia."

"If you're really a good girl, you should call me Master."

Natasha nodded and smiled seductively. "I'll be your good girl, Master. Command me. I'm ready and eager to obey."

"Wonderful. Now, before I officially make you my slave, let's see how you kiss."

"It's not official yet?" Natasha asked, a whine in her voice as she pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

Olivia almost laughed in response. "It's okay, my love. It's just a formality. Now come over here." Olivia patted her side of the booth.

Natasha quickly rose from her seat and plopped down on the red cushion next to Olivia. But she didn't make the next move. Like a good girl, she waited for her Master.

Olivia cupped Natasha's cheek, running her fingers through her slave's shoulder length black hair and caressing her smooth skin with her thumb. Then she leaned in for the kiss.

The two women locked lips with a passionate fervor. Natasha inhaled her beloved Master's scent and hugged her arms around Olivia's sexy black dress in a tight embrace. In that moment, if Natasha had her way, she would have kept her lips pressed against Olivia's forever.

But after a minute, Olivia broke the kiss and stopped to admire the gorgeous, dark-haired, future stepdaughter in her arms.

"I was right. You'll do just fine...Natasha...." She savored and practically whispered the name, breathing into her slave's mouth, separated from her lips by only an inch. "And, you're a much better kisser than your father."

"I'm so glad to hear that." Natasha smiled, overjoyed at her Master's pleasure.

"And you don't mind betraying him for me?"

Natasha shook her head. "Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it. If it means we can be together for the rest of my life, I'd kill him for you, Master."

Olivia giggled. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, my love. Besides, based on the way things are, he'll be off shooting movies around the world, and we'll have the house all to ourselves."

Natasha's smiled widened. "My God, you're so right! He's hardly ever home. You can come to my apartment and fuck, or we can use the spare bedrooms in his mansion. We'll be able to have all the sex you want. All the time."

"All the sex I want. How nicely put," Olivia said, gliding her right hand up and down her sex slave's body and ultimately running her fingers through the slight hair on Natasha's forearm.

For a moment, Olivia noticed a look of apprehension, or caution, on Natasha's face. "What's wrong?"

"I just wanted to ask...may I kiss you again, Master?"

Olivia nodded. "In fact, I command it."

Now it was Natasha who lunged in for the kiss, sticking her tongue down her Master's throat.

While the two women continued their make-out session, as Natasha's lips traveled from Olivia's mouth, to her cheeks and down her Master's sumptuous, perfect neck, Natasha's thoughts wandered....

Thank God I said yes to this lunch!

It's crazy...just a few minutes ago, I wanted nothing to do with this woman. I was all set to send her back to where she came from. But now...that feels like a lifetime ago. And now, Olivia is my life.

My master is my life.

I can't wait to be her stepdaughter.

And above all, Natasha knew one thing for certain. Saying yes to this lunch was the best decision of her life.

***********************

"Dad, you have to marry her!"

Natasha and her father were sitting on the patio chairs, overlooking the Hollywood Hills outside Cliff's palatial estate.

"Whoa, that's quite a change from how you sounded yesterday morning," Cliff observed, taking a sip of his bourbon.

He kept his gaze on the fading sunset that cast long shadows over the scattered mansions and dry mountains of chaparral. Somehow, in the fading daylight, he didn't notice anything unusual about his daughter's large, dilated pupils.