Sailor Moo
Copyright© 2025 by Eddie Davidson
Chapter 9
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 9 - 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
“Quack, quack?” she asked with a befuddled expression, like she was disappointed to just be a lowly duck or wondering if they were really serious. The guys promptly sprayed her face with water, and she was forced to spit it back out all over her tits and cough.
“What don’t you understand, sweetheart?” Dad asked as he popped a candy in his mouth and dropped the wrapper on the grass. “That’s a loaded question. There is a lot you don’t understand. What don’t you understand about your role tonight?”
“Am I supposed to say ‘Quack, quack’ or just ‘Quack’?” she asked with a vapid stare on her face. Tiffy was promptly hit in the face with water before she could finish. I loved watching her seethe at her little brother because she couldn’t do anything about it.
Even though they were spraying me whenever I opened my mouth, it was worth it to watch her get pissed.
“What’s the question, Duckie? Stay focused,” my father asked her with a smirking taunt, while our brother prepared to spray her as soon as she opened her mouth...
“Is it just when someone asks me what I am dressed as? How is a twat waffle a duck? And is this something I have to say if someone says my name at your house? Or at my own house? I don’t understand.”
Tiffy rolled her eyes, like this was dumb and she wasn’t going to participate. I knew that my parents were probably going to make us play along.
“Open your mouth,” Jessie asked his sister politely. I was surprised by how considerate he was, considering we were both in deep trouble for the mess we made, and he was Mom’s golden boy that could do no wrong. It took me a minute or two to realize that he was being condescending.
Tiffy showed him the pink of her tongue. He was about a head shorter than both of us, so she looked down at him defiantly, even though she complied with his instructions because he wasn’t holding the garden hose and ready to shoot her in the mouth.
“Say ahhh,” her little brother asked clinically, like his big sister was there to be examined and participate in one of his elaborate science experiments.
“Ahhhhh,” she obeyed without complaint, and he stuffed a bar of soap right in her mouth. She immediately blushed and closed her lips around the bar, looking around with confusion on her face.
(Pic Semi-Related – it is from a craze that was sweeping Tokyo a few months ago).
Dad chuckled under his breath as he watched her cheeks puff around the bar and suds roll down her face. I must admit, I have developed a new respect for my cousin.
I’d never been hosed down in my front yard, and even though my parents were strict, these new rules and the humiliation I had endured were a lot for me. I expected Tiffy to cry, pound her fists, argue, bitch, or refuse, but she stood there and choked on the bar of soap.
“You are both twat waffles, you know that, right?” my father asked us as he took a bar of soap from Jessie and held it up to my face.
“Yes, Daddy,” I opened my mouth without asking why he wanted to wash my mouth out. I was no stranger to soap in my mouth, and I hated the acrid taste, but it wasn’t as bad as a proper belting.
“You both appreciate the time your brothers are taking to wash the dog shit, tomato, flour, burritos, and other gunk off your body, don’t you?”
Tiffy and I mumbled with the soap in our mouths and shook our heads yes. I didn’t think saying no would get me too far.
“You both know that twat waffles need to be ridiculed every now and then for their own good, and teased?”
We hesitated, and Jessie crimped the hose so it would build up pressure and shot us in the ass with a hard blast of hose water to remind us to nod.
Dad handed us both some soap and told us to wash each other completely. “Head to toe, ass hole to twat hole, tit to tit, nipple to nipple, back to front, front to back! Every speck of dirt! Clean yourselves up! Let’s go, the candy won’t collect itself, and you are wasting everyone else’s Halloween with your mess!”
I turned to Tiffy, and she began to scrub me down.
“Go on, don’t be shy with each other, you are a team now, get into every nook, cranny, and crevice and wash each other, but don’t get too nasty! No fingers in holes!” He smirked.
The guys laughed at us while we lathered each other’s tits and asses and put on a little show. It was humiliating, but at this stage, it wasn’t like we were going to salvage our dignity. Tiffy soaped me up roughly and focused on making my tits sore and hard at the same time.
I pinched her clit, and soon we tuned out the laughs, and just focused on trying to get each other hot and bothered, while making it sting.
Trick-or-treaters walked past us. The laughter or outraged comments always brought us back to reality. Most people stopped and gawked at us for a while, even if they thought it was a disgusting spectacle. Quite a few people snapped pictures, and some thought it was a gag and we weren’t really outside with our asses and tits hanging out.
“Don’t mind my daughter and niece, they got covered in dog shit and garbage, and we have to wash them down! Sorry about that! Candy up on the porch. Happy Halloween!” Dad waved them off and with the exception of some leering and teasing about our “Flabby wet asses” and how we looked like drowned rats, they ignored us.
“I am thankful they passed the ordinance that women can be topless in public in our county, but I am sure I’ll hear from the HOA tomorrow,” Dad lamented. “Wash your pussies and tits really good, and then the boys will slap some duct tape over them.”
My mom and aunt flirted with the trick or treaters on the porch and observed us getting washed and laughed when my brother pulled the thinnest strip of duct tape to put over our cunts.
“Slits and clits only, that’s good, Son,” Dad admired my little brother’s handiwork.
My dad was strict, but he was also loving, and even though it sounded bad, I was actually grateful for the modesty of some duct tape.
My mother would have you believe girls can just walk around with their pussies wide open like a mango squirting juice everywhere on the sidewalk, but so many people frowned on naughty girls flashing and running around naked. It felt shameful to be outside in the nude, and something -even a sliver of dignity was still something.
“Now, Tiffy asked a question. I would be a shitty master if I ignored the question or refused to allow questions. Even Twat Waffles need to know why they are doing something,” he lectured Jessie and Kevin.
“You could teach my sister something on Friday, and by Monday, it’s out of her head,” Jessie said.
“That’s the case with most girls, their clits do most of their thinking,” my father patted my duct tape and flicked it. “You can’t expect a duck and a cow to learn something and remember it. You have to train them over and over, and repetition is key, son. You get bored easily once you have learned something because you retained it, but your sister is a dumb ass, and she has to be taught over and over the hard way.”
He looked at Tiffy and asked if that was the case.
She nodded, sudsy acrid spit rolled down her chin as she clamped down on the soap in her mouth.
He pulled my cousin’s nipples. “Are you enjoying your bath, Twat waffle?”
My cousin nodded that she was, but she hardly looked like it. She was soaked, her hair was wet, her body was dripping with wet suds as we washed each other up.
Even though Tiffy was my cousin, it was hard not to get turned on by her body and her touch. I tried not to feel guilty about it because she was my cousin, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was totally taboo, and I shouldn’t be this horny.
“Tiffy, you quack once when someone says your name, twice if somebody asks what you’re dressed as, says Happy Halloween, or Trick or Treat. You will do it at my house all the time, and you’ll ask your father if you can do it at his house when you get home. Do you understand?”
Tiffy mumbled and nodded yes, but she looked terrified.
“If you somehow forget between now and going home that you were supposed to ask your daddy if you can say quack when you are addressed like a twat waffle at home, Jessie here will remind you. I am assuming you don’t want that?”
Tiffy mumbled again and shook her head yes.
“You do want that?” Dad asked.
Tiffy shook her head no, clearly confused, suds dripped down her chin.
“Good girl,” Daddy patted her on the head.
A car loaded with handsome boys our ages drove slowly down the street. I could hear them laughing and shouting over the heavy bass music blasting out of their speakers.
“Bubble butt, bubble, bubble, bubble butt
Bubble butt, bubble, bubble, bubble butt
Turn around, stick it out, show the world you got a bubble butt.”{br}
I started bouncing my knees instinctively, and so did Tiffy. It was hard not to want to dance to that song. We had to look like a couple of dripping wet strippers splashing around in the mud and shaking our butts on Halloween night to some booty music.
My mom was right – I had almost completely forgotten I had a heart-shaped butt plug shoved up my ass – until my brother pointed out that it was falling out of my butt.
“Jeez, Katie! Your butthole must be looser than acetylated histone!”
I glared over my shoulder at him when he made his nerdy little joke. “I don’t know what that means, but...” I started to angrily reply, but he hit me right in the mouth with the water from the hose.
“Ass-a-lated, that’s a good one, Son,” Dad patted my brother on the shoulder proudly, and then instructed, “Tuck that turd blocker back up your ass, Katie. If you let your mother’s favorite butt plug fall into the mud, you’ll have to put it right back up your shitter!”
I didn’t know what the words meant, but I was blushing all the same. The worst part was that even Tiffy was laughing at me.
“Good girl,” my father stroked my hair and told me to put the plug back in and not play with it. It was a small consolation that my father sounded pleased with me because I didn’t argue or whine. I kept dancing just like Tiffy and did as I was told.
I’d been raised to never question my father, so I instinctively obeyed like it was second nature.
It suddenly occurred to me as I used two fingers to tuck the plug back into my butt that my mother had worn this plug – probably many times. It made me feel creepy to know that I was using one of her sex toys in front of my dad and little brother.
I had stolen her dildos in the past, but only to use in private – not show off around them! I knew I’d never live any of this down.
I usually loved attention, but my father was definitely curing me of my craving for that. I hoped the jackasses would drive by and not notice us clapping our cheeks out in the yard stark naked in just stockings and with soap in our mouths.
“What’s the matter, Twat Waffle? Why do you keep looking over your shoulder nervously? Is there something special about that red car back there?” Dad noticed immediately how nervous I was about the guys in the car.
“That’s Dave Atwell and his football pricks. They are the big jocks on campus, Dad. Total douchebags!” Kevin warned.
“Yeah, they are bullies too!” Jessie sneered. He looked like he hated Dave.
I’ve fucked Dave many times at parties and had a three-way with his friends, but never dated him. Most guys don’t “date” me – I like sex, and I am terrible at conversation.
I started sucking cock mostly because I found that easier than trying to sound colorful or interesting, when I really wasn’t.
Tiffy was the one who looked particularly nervous at the mention of Dave. She didn’t “date” him either, but they were regular fuck buddies at school, and Dave may have been the closest she probably ever came to having a steady boyfriend.
“I hate bullies. Does he mess with you, Jessie? Maybe I should teach him a lesson?” my dad said. He’s a nice guy, but he’s also a quiet badass if anyone messes with him. He’s nurturing, but my father has always had an edge about him that makes you think that if you fuck around with him, you will definitely find out.
“Please don’t fight my battles for me, Uncle Mike. Dave’s Tiffy’s boyfriend. He loves to pick on me.”
My father removed the bar of soap from Tiffy’s mouth and held it in front of her face while she gasped for air and spat out the suds. “Uncle Mike, Hack, please don’t invite Dave Atwell over here. If you want to tease me and punish me for fighting with your daughter, that’s fine, but he’s my boyfriend and he can be a real asshole. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Why do you date an asshole?”
I knew the answer, but I had soap in my mouth, and my father didn’t ask me. Tiffy’s an asshole, and they are a match made in heaven. She was acting like an innocent Pollyanna, but she loves the popularity of dating a popular jock.