Sailor Moo
Copyright© 2025 by Eddie Davidson
Chapter 4
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 4 - Halloween Night - Katie's Grandma sends a skimpy anime Sailor Moon knock off costume with a Cow theme for her to wear. Her mom insists she put it on and go trick or treating with the full ensemble! Embarassed Nude Female Story/CMNF Set in the Girl's Don't Need Modesty Universe I love creating the images for the story, almost as I do writing this one.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft mt/Fa Teenagers Consensual Reluctant Slut Wife Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter Cousins Uncle Niece Aunt Nephew Grand Parent BDSM DomSub Light Bond Spanking Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Interracial Black Male White Male White Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Food Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Tit-Fucking Public Sex ENF Halloween Illustrated
“Oh, Mom,” Kevin was obviously amused by the new arrangement, even if it was just for one night. If I complained, my mom might make it permanent, so I kept my trap shut!
They could tell from my reaction that I wasn’t happy about it, but if I seemed shocked, pissy, or got bent out of shape, then I would have probably laughed harder. The decision was made, I had to just accept it and keep trick-or-treating!
My little brother was about to make some wisecrack when all of a sudden, I heard a loud crash right next to me and turned my head to see what the calamity was.
“AWWWARARA-AHOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAA-BOOOGGAAAAAAAAA” Mr. Gibbons launched himself at me and knocked me onto the floor. I fell on my butt, but before I did, I launched an expert kick right into his balls.
The dead center of my pointy Sailor Moo boots connected with his dick. I could feel it through the cheap material. I didn’t mean to kick him hard. It was a gut reaction, but it wasn’t entirely an accident either.
He genuinely scared me, and for just a moment, I forgot this was a hokey neighborhood haunted house. I kicked for all I was worth, and I also punched him in the solar plexus as he landed flat on me.
I am sure I knocked the wind out of the older man. He grunted like he really felt it. Once he was down, I flitted my skirt playfully and teased him. I just wanted to fuck with him a little like I did around the neighborhood.
“You are totally asking for it, Tiff!”
I screamed as he lifted my skirt in the back, and goosed me with two fingers in my twat. “Don’t mind if I do,” he grunted, as he tried to get another in my asshole.
“You love it, Katie, stop pretending you didn’t lift your skirt and give him the idea,” Tiffy rolled her eyes.
I couldn’t help myself, it’s fun to tease old pervs, and I think I get off on the attention.
He grabbed one of my boobs like it was a hand sandwich and gave it a squeeze as he went down. My first thought was that this guy was definitely doing it on purpose, but I didn’t have a chance to smack his hand away when he barreled into me.
The ghoul paint on his hand smeared all over my nipples. I was pretty sure it was accidental, but it’s hard to tell with him.
Tiffy rolled her eyes because she thought I was being too dramatic.
“Oops!” he stood up and broke character. He was supposed to be the undead murderer. He grabbed a dirty shop cloth and tried to wipe the ghost paint from my tits, but managed to only get more grease on them.
My cowbell clanged, and he had completely removed my yellow bow, so that now my tits were flopping around freely. I could only hear the haunted house sounds on the loudspeaker and the music, coupled with the screams of people in other parts of the haunted house.
I was so scared by the groping that I thought I was going to die! Tiffy thought it was hilarious.
“Mister Gibbons,” I crossed my arms over my boobs because my bow fell completely off and landed on the chalky haunted house floor.
“Whoopsie,” he grinned, and blushed. “That’s polymetric sand we put on the ground to make it grittier,” he said as he retrieved it and handed it back to me.
I was completely caught off guard, and shocked, surrounded by a spiderman, while Tiffy laughed when I fell on my ass, and my skirt flew up.
I quickly covered my boobs with my hands, looking around at the people in other haunted house parties. The group in front of us had stopped and were watching me. The group behind us couldn’t pass by and was obviously watching us.
“Katie, stop showing your tits to everyone and get your top back on,” Mom insisted as she pushed it into my chest and made me hold it in place.
“Hey, you dropped this,” I heard Mr. Gibbons shout while trying to catch up to us as we pushed through the narrow corridor maze that my neighbor had set up. I knew whatever it was wouldn’t be good.
I clenched my butt cheeks and sensed the plug. I was thankful I hadn’t dropped it.
“Your um, Dildo?” he said as he presented the pink staff to me. I realized immediately that the pink staff I’d been carrying had a big pink head on the tip and looked exactly like a dildo.
“It’s my Sailor Moon, Staff! Thank you,” I curtsied while trying not to seem overly humiliated. I was just trying to be safe so that my mom wouldn’t think I was being rude.
“No worries,” He watched me dip my knee, and smiled. “Happy Halloween!”
Fuck!
“Moooooooooooooooooooooh,” I let out a big moo, which was loud enough to scare some of the people in the haunted house, and made my family crack up laughing.
Mr. Gibbons would probably think I was crazy after that.
“Please tell me that I don’t have to practice with this staff too,” I looked at the ground as I walked beside my mom with my head down in shame.
“Hah, you couldn’t fit that in your cute little pooper, Katie,” Mom waved me off dismissively.
“No, I meant in my um, other hole,” I was too afraid to say it out loud. I wasn’t even sure why I was asking. I wanted to tell her to forget the question, but it was too late for that.
“If you can’t say what it is, you can’t play with it; it’s a twat, a pussy, a slit, a cunt. Now, are you asking me if you can play with your staff, or are you asking me if you have to play with your staff?”
We were finally emerging from the side door of the garage into a wooden pen with some incredibly creepy undead chickens made from real bones and feathers that Mrs. Johnson had arranged.
I was thankful because my head started to clear. I don’t know if it was getting knocked out, or the humiliation quickening my pulse, or my pussy throbbing from the sensation of the butt plug sitting in my ass, or just chemical fumes from the garage.
“You said I have to put the plug up my butt every day for four hours. I just figured that this thing looks like a dildo; do I have to do that too?”
“You’d be lucky if I let you play with yourself for four hours! You think you are going to be on your back, horsing around, getting your rocks off all day? You’ll wear the plug at dinner and when you are doing chores.”
“But the tail will be sticking out of my butt!”
“So what? The tail looks cute in your sweaty little pooter! It’ll give your dad and brother a life. You can swish around and moo for us tomorrow.:
“I have to moo all the time now?” I couldn’t believe that was now a rule.
“At least at home,” my mom seemed thoughtful about it for a moment as if she were reflecting on whether or not to paint the kitchen crème or beige. “I’d like you to moo when anyone addresses you by name, to let us know you heard us, Okay, Katie?”
I pretended to be scared by the chainsaws mounted on the sides of the house.
“Katie!”
“MOO!!!” I blushed.
“Was that so hard? A little humiliation never hurt anybody, and it may do you some good to realize those milk sacks are going to sag just like mine one day! Gravity comes for all women. It’s Mother Nature’s little joke to let you look that good, only to end up like me.”
“You are beautiful, Mom!”
“Brown isn’t a good color for your nose, Katie, but I appreciate the flattery nonetheless,” Mom said in a moment of sweet introspection. “I bet you are enjoying that butt plug a little, aren’t you?”
How would she like it jammed up her rectum? I lost myself in the paintings showing a progression of a man marrying a Barbie doll trophy wife. The two of them were happy at the wedding with all their friends.
(apologies in advance if this picture is way too wide – it’s probably worth zooming in if you like my art.)
In the next painting, the man was sitting on a bed in a hotel wearing his striped boxer shirts with his tuxedo shirt and top hat still on. His wife was greedily fucking the black bellman, the desk clerk, and most of the friends who were in the last painting of the wedding.
“Katie Ann McGee! I asked if you secretly enjoyed that butt plug you are wearing right now?”
I pretended I couldn’t hear her over the frightful soundtrack and screams as I studied the next painting in the series.
The style of art was like those old 1960s Americana advertisements. This one featured him waving goodbye in his mid-American suburb and going to his job to earn money.
His hot new wife settled into their married life, and suddenly she was disinterested, had the best man and several black men on the way to the house, and seemed to be calling more. It looked like she planned to put a cock cage on her husband as well.
Paintings from the 1960s were often openly raunchy like this.
The next one showed her trying to kill him on a dark, stormy night. She had employed several characters that she had sex with in the earlier paintings and was seducing him with poison in some elaborate Victorian mansion. The bimbo looked absolutely delighted to be rid of him because she had a huge insurance policy with dollar signs in her hands.
“MOOOO!” I answered my mother and tried to avoid her question a little longer. I lost myself in the final, very morbid picture. The man and what might be the bride’s mother, because she had huge tits, and looked a little like her daughter, only older, were cooking the bride for dinner.
Men she had fucked, even some that tried to kill him, were delighted the scheming bitch was gone. The grand banquet hall had been decorated for her birthday. Her head was mounted on the pink and white cake as an ornament. She was smiling but sucking on a red candle that had been used to gag her.
Her big tits were mounted on the wall next to prized deer and bear that had been taxidermized as hunting trophies.
Her hairy stretched out pink pussy was being sliced up like roast beef on the center of the dinner table.
The woman’s ass was mounted at the door, and people had used it as an umbrella holder.
It wasn’t the kind of terrifying Jack the Ripper or Freddy Krueger stuff that was used to scare people in the rest of the haunted house.
It was probably the scariest thing in the entire Haunted House for me because I identified with the bride, and so many people seemed amused by how she ended up.
Everyone she knew seemed to be celebrating her demise as if she had been particularly annoying. I could imagine she was vain and shallow, and it was obvious she was insatiably horny, but focused on pleasuring herself, not her husband.
My mother has always taught me that good girls only think about one man – their husband or their father until they get a husband.
I think about guys all the time, but only in what they can do for me, or how they can fuck me better. I didn’t want to admit to my mother that my pussy was super wet and that a part of me would have traded places with that bimbo because at least she died pretty and got to fuck a lot of guys before she got chopped up.
That was a very morbid fantasy that I quickly shook out of my head.
“Katie Ann, I asked you a question, and I expect you to answer me, honestly. Do you like having that plug stuck in your ass?”
“A little, maybe,” I admitted with a naughty blush, and then mooed again. I didn’t even think about how humiliating it was to moo this time.
“Good, you’ll be wearing it four hours a day, and I would hate for you to be miserable. You will get used to it ... don’t give me that pitiful face, young lady. Your brother saw you put it in your butt, and your dad saw you put it in your butt. It’s not a secret that you need to keep, and I swear to you, you’ll thank me when your asshole is so much tighter for your future lovers.”
“Lovers? As in plural?”
“Oh, honey, you are going to have way more than just one. You have to crack a lot of eggs to make an omelet,” she mused as we ducked into a narrow tube that was spinning slowly. “Do we have to talk about this, while we crouch through this haunted house and your nose is level to my ass?”
“Not really,” I said just as the tube we were in flipped us over completely, and we lost our balance and fell into a muddy puddle of water.
“You are a cow, not a pig, Katie,” Tiffy said as she stood over me, and she offered me a hand with a churlish grin on her face.
The look on her smug face was driving me crazy. I couldn’t believe she was ridiculing me. I accepted the help with a thanks, but then I added “Whoopsie,” and yanked as hard as I could – sending Tiffy end over end, face down into the same muddy puddle.
I heard whistles and catcalls and even noticed a few telephones come out. I hadn’t expected my cousin to be ass up, legs splayed, with her skirt hanging down.
Her pussy was bald, and she had tiny silver bells clipped to her labia and clitoral hood. Her face was covered in mud, and she struggled to get up.
“You twat!” she shouted furiously, and then slipped and fell again, getting her top all wet. It was apparent that some of those bells were attached to her nipples when the water hit the material.
My yellow bow was crumpled, wet, and muddy, and my tits were completely out. That little white silk cloth between my cheeks wasn’t doing anything to protect my modesty, and my butt cheeks were on full display, along with the tail. I had mud dripping off my face and chin, and my hair and wig were all messed up. We probably did look like rutting pigs.
Tiffy finally scrambled to her feet, spitting mud and water out of her mouth, her face a mask of rage. She was humiliated and enraged, and she came charging to tackle me – without any concern at all that her tits were flying as she dashed through the mud.
“Tiffy!” her mom shouted angrily.
“Katie, no roughhousing!” My mom shouted.
I didn’t have much of a choice. I barely stumbled out of the mud and backed up, with my hands up defensively, when Katie came thundering head-first into my stomach, knocking me to the ground. She grabbed my hair, and yanked. “Get this wig off!”
Suddenly, everyone standing in line at the haunted house, and all the people who had recently left were around the fence in the front yard, watching us slap each other’s faces and spit on each other.
It wasn’t a very dignified fight. We were on the ground, our legs were intertwined like scissors, and our tits, asses, pussies, and just about everything else were on display under the moonlight as the smoke from Mr. Johnson’s haunted house wafted over us.
I managed to punch Tiffy right in her pussy twice before she flipped me onto my back, turned around, and sat directly on my face.
I could taste her pussy juices, but she wasn’t trying to make me eat it. She was trying to make me lick her ass. “Go on, lick my entire asshole, nasty slut!”
If I could have bit down on her ass cheeks, I would have. I kicked wildly, even though, while I was doing that, I was certain my pussy was spread and people were probably filming. I heard more laughing than I did concern.
Tiffy bobbed up and down on my face and rocked her hips. “Come on, get that cheese, it tastes like Velveeta,” she promised. “Moo right into my doo-doo hole, come on!”
She started banging on my tits, pinching and twisting them.
“OW! FUCK! LET ME GO,” I heard Tiffy shout, and suddenly felt the weight of her thighs lift off of me.
My mother and Aunt had peeled her off of me and were restraining her. I used the opportunity to launch one foot between my Tiffy’s legs, and punt her cunt so hard that I felt pussy juice squirt down my ankles.
“Katie! You stop fighting too,” my mom let Tiffy go, and grabbed me the same way she had been holding my cousin. My Aunt Brittany kept Tiffy restrained, and it took about thirty seconds of us hanging like helpless kittens in our mother’s mouths for the two of them to let us go.
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