My Baby Sister’s Fear of Halloween

First his Mom, then his baby sister.

This is both a Halloween and an Incest Story. It's an entry into the Halloween 2018 Contest. Lots of stars will be appreciated!

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My baby sister called me. She's a cute little freshman in college, at Hunter College in Manhattan, New York. I work downtown on Wall Street, being six years older than she is.

"Hi, Melissa. This is a nice surprise. How are you?" I asked her after reading off from the caller ID that it was she who was calling. She rarely called me, and it occurred to me I never called her. Actually, not counting work, I rarely call anyone. If I speak on the phone it's because someone calls me.

As the thoughts raced through my mind I realized her calling me was strange. In the past we have always communicated electronically, usually by text, since I don't use Facebook. (It's a long and uninteresting story why I don't. It involves my own paranoia.)

"I've been better," Melissa said. It's hard to tell via telephone, but it seemed as if she was suppressing tears.

"Talk to me, Sis. I'll make it all better," I said. I've been saying that to her since she was three years old and I was nine, older and protective of my little bundle of a sister, as I used to call her before she was grown. She's now 69 inches tall and has a figure many women would kill to have. Her body is perfectly proportioned and resembles an hourglass. Her body is a living, vibrant cliché of the body of a sexy woman.

"Not on the phone. Meet me?" Melissa said.

"Can you come downtown? I'll leave work around eleven tonight. There's a lot of volatility in the markets overseas right now. We can meet at the Stone Street Tavern. Do you know it?" I said.

"I can find it. What time? Eleven PM?"

I was bit stunned by her appearance. She looked older than her eighteen years. Of course, her nineteenth birthday was just around the corner, but still! Her cleavage turned some heads, and her tiny waist was emphasized by her generous hips. Mostly though it was her eyes that belied her age. My little sister looked ready for sex!

I quickly moved over to her before some random guy at the bar tried to pick her up. I knew my colleagues and their attitudes towards women. Let's just say that for a lot of them, it wasn't going to be pretty if the woman in question was your sister.

Melissa figured out my reaction in real time. "It's okay, Mark. I'm used to men in bars. They're like mosquitos swarming around but they're after something besides my blood."

"Do they get it often?" I asked and kicked myself for saying that as soon as the words left my mouth!

Melissa cocked her head and looked up at me (I'm six feet two inches to her five feet nine). She had the look of surprise on her face one might expect a little sister to have after a remark from her brother as tasteless as mine had been just then.

"What kind of question is that to ask your sister? Let me put it this way. I use mosquito repellant but I still get bitten. It's the same with the men, I'm afraid. And since you doubtless desperately want to ask but hopefully never would, I have not been a virgin for three years now. And yes, I'm sexually active. At times, I'm very active. Happy?"

I looked sheepishly at my feet and said nothing. The waitress came over to us in her St Pauli Girl outfit, showing off the maximal amount of bare flesh from the tops of her boobs to the top of her neck, as if to emphasize the sexual undertones. I ordered two St Pauli Girls. Why not? Her outfit inspired me. It's not a bad beer, anyway.

"I need your help, Mark," Melissa said, once we had each finished our first two beers. I had been wondering when she was going to get to the point, ie, why she had to meet me?

"How can I help?" I asked, hoping to God she was not pregnant or something.

"I dumped my boyfriend Pete last week," she said. I visibly relaxed; it was not pregnancy, being arrested, or any sort of crap of that order of magnitude.

I did not even know she had had a boyfriend, let alone one named Pete. Given her looks and the way the other men in the bar were looking at her, though, I must say I was not surprised. "I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"Don't be," Melissa said. "He's a skunk. I can't believe he slept with Susan. She's such a slut, even if she's been my best friend since we were both six years old."

"Your boyfriend slept with your best friend?" I asked, a bit surprised.

"Yeah, he got her so drugged she did not know how to close her legs, you know? I'm not even sure she knew it was Pete between her legs," Melissa said.

"How do you know then it was Pete?" I asked, figuring Pete did not tell her, and Susan apparently was too drunk, stoned, or otherwise drugged, to know who it was who was enjoying her body.

"I saw the video on line," Melissa said. What kind of world did my baby sister live in, anyway?

I did not want to ask again what she needed from me. Maybe all she wanted was a comforting ear? Someone she could trust and confess to? I was also hoping she was not planning to ask me to beat up Pete or something nutty like that. She knew I had been the head of the boxing team in high school, but that was a long time ago. Happily, Pete was not mentioned again.

We talked about her college and she asked about my job. For the first time ever, she actually seemed interested in what I did. I kept waiting for her to explain why she had to see me but the explantion never came. Finally, close to 1AM the bar made the last call announcement.

"I thought bars could stay open until 4AM?" Melissa said.

"They can, but they don't have to. This is not exactly a nightlife area, you know," I replied. It occurred to me I did not even know where my sister lived. I assumed it was in a college dorm or something.

The moment had come. I saw Melissa's hands shaking as she held her third beer. She said, "Mark, I need a date for Halloween. There's a party I need to go to and I won't go without a man on my arm. Or better, with me on the man's arm," she said, and she nervously giggled.

My thoughts spun around in my head. Did she want me to find some friend to take her to the party? My friends would see her hot body and drool. I could not handle seeing a friend the next day knowing he might have, thanks to me setting him up, carnal knowledge of my baby sister! Gross! Given her language and seemingly casual attitude towards sex I knew he would probably be able to lay her, too. How I could I think about my own little sister like this?

I worried my sister took after our mother. I'm sure Melissa did not know, but our Mom was both a MILF and an easy lay, a powerful combination. I had figured something was wrong when it was often my friend's fathers who would come to pick my friends after we had played together at my house. Well, why not? Why did it have to be their mothers who came?

The fathers however would go upstairs with my Mom to "talk" after we had begged for more time to play with my trains, or my video games as I got older. The father of my friend would come down alone around a half hour later, smiling broadly, and when I went upstairs to find Mom after my friends had left, she was always in the bath. When I discovered sex some years later I had an epiphany about what must have been going on!

Maybe it was something else with my sister? But what? What else could it be? Look on the bright side, Mark, I told myself. Melissa is not pregnant and begging me to arrange an abortion. She doesn't have an STD and needs me to find a discreet doctor to treat her. All she needs is a date, right? Given the options, that is possibly the most trivial thing she could ask of me.

Speaking of Halloween, I realized I had dodged another bullet. Melissa no longer seemed to be scared shitless of Halloween, as she had been every year since the home invasion we had suffered through when we were little. The men invading our home had been high on meth or something. They had been wearing scary masks when they entered our home.

They had overpowered our father, and then tied him up and gagged him. He sat there helplessly, tied to a chair, as they raped our mother right in front of him. Her screams still haunt both Melissa and me.

It was only after I became an adult that I realized her screams were due to orgasms she had as she was being raped. In fact, I later learned the truth was that she had not been raped. It had been consensual sex in the kitchen while Melissa and I cowered together in our bedrooms. I even wondered if my parents knew the home invaders and that it was elaborate plan for acting out a gangbang for my Mom, with my twisted Dad getting to watch?

Only recently had I realized our Mom, who loved and adored us and has always been the best Mom imaginable, was also a slut, who had tremendous trouble saying no to any man who wanted her. I suspect she had hoped her marriage to my father would save her from her promiscuous ways, but it didn't. They married young, after all.

As it turned out our Dad was so weird he did not mind her promiscuous ways as long as he could hear about them later, or better, watch his wife get laid. I had gleaned this only gradually, as I eavesdropped on some amazing conversations. Putting everything together is how I realized that most of the fathers of my friends had enjoyed bedding my Mom. My Mom is a bona fide MILF and slut, even to this day. Was Melissa doomed to be like her? There were some signs.

Perhaps I should mention too that my Mom is only fifteen years older than I am, putting her current age at 43 years. During the home invasion, when Melissa was six and I was twelve years old, our Mom was a MILF of only 27 years of age, one year older than I am now!

When I was eight and my friends' fathers would come to pick them up, Mom was a sexpot MILF of only 23 years. Since the men were typically in their thirties at the time, once the word got out that this sexy MILF would please all comers, the temptation must have been irresistible.

Melissa remained innocent of these revelations about our parents. She still thought our Dad almost died during the home invasion and that our Mom was raped. She has ever since always been terrified of Halloween. Now that she was 18 and sexually active, perhaps it was time for me to tell her the ugly truth about our parents? I'd need a stiffer drink to do that. So too would Melissa!

Now was not the time. I did however ask, "Are you still terrified of Halloween?" That also changed the subject from her plea that she needed a date. I was playing for time to think about the whole date thing.

"Yes, I am, but I'm working on it. My shrink wants me to go a party and have fun on Halloween. She thinks it will help," Melissa said.

"You see a shrink?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah, the college pays for it. After my date rape, they said I have to go," she said.

"Your date rape??" I asked, a bit too loudly. I was both horrified and astonished, especially by the casual way she dropped the news like a bomb right into my lap.

"I'm sorry friends, but you're the last ones here, and it's past closing. I have to ask you to go," the guy sweeping up the place said to us. I noticed all the other chairs were upside down on tables. The guy kind of looked down Melissa's blouse at her generous cleavage as he asked us to leave.

Melissa smiled up at the guy as he studied her boobs, and she rose to her full height. "Thanks for letting us stay this long. We lost track of time," she said, flirtatiously.

"No problem," the guy mumbled.

"I know a place in Greenwich Village that's open until 4AM. You game, Mark?"

We went to the bar Melissa knew. It was in the East Village/NoHo, near Houston and First Avenue. We were quiet in the subway since it was surprisingly crowded, and our conversation was not the type we wanted people to overhear. I had time to think. Maybe my old friend Steve would be a good choice for Melissa on Halloween? Before I brought that up, I inquired about my sister's date rape.

"Well you see, Mark, usually I let the men do what they want after a date. There wants are usually simple, and we go to bed together. They get their rocks off, and usually I enjoy myself, too," she said. "I guess it's a family tradition, right?"

"Too much information," I said. I inferred from her last snide comment that she knew the reputation of our Mom the slut MILF.

Ignoring my remark, Melissa continued. "One time though I got a little too drunk. Pete wasn't around and three men took me home. I told them goodnight at the door. They would not go away without getting something from me, so I kissed all three of them, one after the other, but I said no to their requests to come inside. They got annoyed, since I guess they knew my reputation, and they each wanted their piece of my ass.

It was true I usually put out, but only for one guy at a time, and besides I was in a stage where I was being loyal to Pete. Three men was three times too much. I tried to explain that to them. They pushed their way into my dorm room. They overpowered me, stripped me naked, and they tied me up and gagged me. Do I need to continue?"

"No, you don't. I've got the picture," I said.

"Right, good," Melissa said. "Well the very next day, once I got loose from my bondage, I took myself and my bruises to the campus police. I gave them the names of all three of my rapists. I was examined at the hospital and the police were called and there was an investigation. Despite the forensic evidence, it turned into a case of they said, she said."

"People had seen me drunk and flirting with the three men. A guy coming down the dorm hall had seen all three men kissing me and feeling me up while we kissed. He had seen me giggling. Then of course there was my reputation as being 'easy.'

Eventually the conclusion was that it was a case of 'slut's regret,' and in the end, nothing was done. I told my English Lit professor the sordid story, sparing no detail, and she shamed the administration into offering me free psychiatric help to get over it. I see my shrink three times a week. I have not had sex again since the date rape."

At this point I ordered a whisky, in fact a double. "What happened to the three men?" I asked.

"What do you think happened?" Melissa asked, her voice conveying a tone of bitter sarcasm.

"I guess they were not convicted of anything from what you say. Were they expelled from your school?" I asked.

"Nothing happened to them, Mark. They were not even arrested, and the school held its investigation and then did nothing to them. They're still in school and I run into them from time to time just walking to classes," Melissa said.

"That must be beyond horrible for you!" I said.

"I think that's why Pete slept with Susan," Melissa said, seeming to realize something for the first time. "I had been refusing to have sex with him after the date rape. He was horny, and there she was," my sister added.

"Your life is a mess. I'm so sorry, Sis," I said.

"My life's fine. School is going well, I'm acing my classes, and my friends have rallied around me and they've been great. It's only my love life that's a mess, and I figure abstinence is the way to go until the shrink gives the all clear," Melissa said.

"Okay," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"But there's the Halloween terror thing, and my shrink thinks I need to let loose at a party to vanquish my demons, so to speak. I love the whole concept of vanquishing demons on Halloween, by the way. I need a date for protection, though, and it has to be someone I trust. I need someone I can trust completely," Melissa said.

"Do you have a friend you can trust like that?" I asked.

"No," she said. "I've kind of slept with all the men I could trust, and they would want and expect to get into my panties if I asked them to be my date for Halloween. You know how men are." Yes, I thought, I knew only too well, being myself a man just like that.

Holy cow, I thought, my sister truly is a slut! She's only eighteen (almost nineteen, but still!) and she's already slept with 'all the men she could trust?'

"What about a gay male friend?" I asked.

"I tried that. They all have dates already. Halloween is a major event. There's the parade, don't forget," she said. I had in fact forgotten about the Halloween Gay Parade in New York. That was a major, and typically spectacular, event.

"What do you want from me? I could find you a date for Halloween. You're hot, Melissa, and all I would need to do would be to show a friend your picture, and he would drool at the prospect. But he would not be someone you could trust in that sense," I said.

"I don't want a blind date for Halloween, Mark. I want you," my sister said.

"What?"

"I can trust you. You 'll protect me, you always have. I want you to be my date. My shrink thinks you'd be perfect. I've told her a lot about you. Really a lot," she said.

"What have you told your shrink about me?" I asked, nervous suddenly, and playing again for time about Melissa's request for me to be her date. I had not seen it coming. In fact, I had a call girl, Becky, all lined up for Halloween.

Becky does the 'girlfriend experience' where even though she is a call girl she pretends she is hopelessly in love with you and spends a glorious night in bed with you, then lets you take her out for brunch the next day. The couple of times I partook of her services had been memorable. I had been planning to enjoy her at my own Halloween party downtown.

"Don't worry, Mark. I've not told my shrink anything bad about you. I never told her for example about you and Mom getting it on," my sister said.

I spluttered my drink, making a small mess, as Melissa giggled upon seeing my reaction. I just stared at Melissa.

"Last Christmas, Mark," Melissa began. "You came out of Mom's bedroom naked with your cock sticking out and gooey wet with your cum and what had to be Mom's copious pussy juices. Your sneaky little sister saw it all."

"Don't worry, I don't blame you," Melissa continued. "No man I know, except perhaps for Dad, can resist our Mom. I was just a bit surprised she seduced even you. Your secret is safe with me. I know it's hard for men to say no when the woman is willing. Trust me, I know. I know it well."

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I thought about it. When my good friend Bret had come home with me from college, Melissa had been sixteen and Mom had been 37. Bret had been overwhelmed to have two such sexy women on either side of him. "How do you stand it?" he had asked me.

"Stand what?" I asked.

"Having a sexpot Mom and a sexpot little sister living at home with you?" he asked.

I almost slugged him. "Melissa is only sixteen, you moron, and my Mom is a wonderful woman. Don't demean her with your language." Bret seemed surprised by my overreaction. Nevertheless, he persisted.

"Your sister's no innocent virgin, Mark. I can see it in her eyes," Bret said, again narrowly escaping a punch from this here high school boxing champion.

"My Mom and especially my little sister are off limits, Bret," I said.

"I know that, Mark. Of course! Why are you so sensitive?" Bret said.

I'm pretty sure though that when I went off for a couple of hours to run errands for my Mom, Bret tapped my Mom. When I returned home Mom was the same, Bret looked guilty as sin, and Melissa was nonstop giggles. Melissa must have heard Mom moan and deduced the rest.

It was only now, looking at my sister and hearing her talk, that I realized it might have been someone other than Mom who Bret tapped? Holy shit!

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"Mark, I want you to be my date for Halloween. My shrink Christine says it should be you. You'll protect me from the other men, and you won't harm me. Please?"

"Protect you?" I asked.