My Sister's Keeper -- Halloween Special

part 6


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Phoebe tried pleading.  She tried begging, she tried crying.  All she could feel was a sense of loss she couldn’t understand.  It was that horrible, desperate feeling that prompted her to use the one tactic she hadn’t tried: the truth.  “I love you, Deborah” she said aloud.  “But…occasionally, especially lately, I’ve felt trapped by you.”

Silence.

“I love James,” Phoebe said.  “I don’t know what could be in the future for us, but I’d like to find out.  Except…what if we make love?  Will you be there?  Will I be making love to you, too?  I don’t think of you in that way.  Do I have to, in order to be intimate with someone?”

More silence.

“But you’re not the only reason,” Phoebe continued.  “I don’t want to…to lose anyone else close to me.  I know we can keep things from each other and I’ve kept this; I think about losing anyone close to me and my brain just locks up.  I can’t even contemplate it so I just…thrust it aside.”  She scrubs her face.  “So I just amble on, never really getting close to anyone else and it taints every relationship I have.  Even ours.  Especially ours. I…I want to make love to James.  Tonight.  And if that means you’re there too, well, so be it.”  She hugs herself.

Somoene banged on the door.  “Phoebe, are you all right?”

Pheobe jumped a mile.  “I…give me a minute, okay, Violet?”

“Okay,” her friend responded.  “But just a minute.”

“Please Deborah,” she murmured.  “Say something.  Say anything.”  She lowered her head and hugged herself.


#


James barreled back upstairs at to the end of the corridor, where he saw Violet standing in front of a closed door.  Oddly, there was a large rip in her costume on the back just above the waistline.  “Is Phoebe in there?” he demanded.

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“Good. What happened to your costume?  There’s a big tear in it.”

“So that is why – never mind.  It’s been one weird fucking evening!”

Something told James to ask about that later; he had more important things to do.  “Phoebe,” he said, knocking on the door.  “Listen…I really don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to come right out with it. I know about Deborah – Violet told me.  And it doesn’t matter to me.  I love you; everything else we can work out later.  Okay?”

Long pause.  Just as James was ready to give up, the door thrust open, revealing a half-naked Phoebe who swarmed into his arms and kissed him.  As he was enjoying the feel of Phoebe’s naked breasts against his chest, she steered him to her left, and then another set of lips were kissing him.  James pulled away – not immediately, for that might have been rude and besides these mystery lips were good at kissing – to look into a pair of unfamiliar green eyes.  He pulled back further; right next to Phoebe’s head there was now a raven-haired head. “Deborah?”

“You look surprised,” she smiled as Phoebe blushed rosily.

“A little,” he admitted.  “Violet made it sound as if your sister was just crazy.”

“Violet,” Phoebe protested, “you didn’t!”

Violet shrugged.  “I figured it would be easier to accept.”

“Trust me, from what I’ve been through tonight this is tame,” he replied.  To the sisters, “we need to talk.  All three of us.”

“On the way home, if you don’t mind, “Deborah pleaded.  “I’ve definitely been feeling strange ever since we got to this weird house.”

“Strange would be a step down,” Violet agreed.

“I’d like to go home on James’ car if you don’t mind, Violet,” Phoebe said, giving James a smile.

“Sure,” Violet said, “as long as we go home now.”  She glanced over at the sisters.  “Well…as soon as you two get dressed, that is.”

Despite everything, Phoebe managed to blush.  Deborah didn’t.


Eleven PM.


Kate and Amy looked out the window at the last cars to leave.  “Well,” Amy said to her wife, “that’s the last of them.  Another successful year!”

“I don’t know,” Kate replied.  “Phoebe and Violet didn’t look like they had a good time.”  She glanced accusingly at the figure leaning against the door.  “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if anyone was going to get hurt.”

“Relax.”  The scarecrow calling itself Sam told her.  “They’ve all got a lot on their minds.  Now then,” he said, stepping away from the door, “I believe we had a Deal.  You’ve both lived up to your end of the bargain – I got to play with three of your guests – so now it’s my turn.”

Kate and Amy gazed into each other’s eyes and smiled.  “Finally,” Amy purred.  “We can have access to each other twenty-four seven.”

Kate smiled back.  “Mmmmm. How do we want to be joined?”

“May I make a suggestion?” ‘Sam’ told them.  “If you don’t like it, I’ll change it.”

“Sure,” Amy shrugged.

“Thank you.  Why don’t you two start kissing, and we’ll go from there?”

“Like I even need a reason,” Amy purred, cupping her wife’s face and pulling it in for a lingering kiss.  Garment by garment, their costume was stripped off of them; from the custom blouse and skirt, to the tight cloth wrapping binding their bellies together.  The married couple continued to French-kiss each other deeply, pussies tingling in anticipation of their fantasy about to be delivered.  Both felt warm, very warm, as their lower bodies began to rotate of their own accord – one left, and the other right – to press against each other.  The women cried out as their hips fused and their legs melted together, leaving one lower body with the best characteristics of both and their two torsos turned inwards towards each other.

Kate was the first to look downwards.  “I like it, she smiled.  “Feels a little top heavy, though.”

“So?” Amy smiled.  “That just means we have to hug each other to walk.  Ask me if I care.”

‘Sam’ watched the two lovers as their upper bodies pressed against each other for more kissing.  He wondered how’d they feel when, two weeks from now, certain personality quirks began to grate.  Perhaps it would be no big deal, but perhaps not. A brief thought flickered through what can best be described as his mind, of his adopted family back home in Maine – Carol, Frank, Liz, and later Roberta – with a sense of nostalgia.  Pity he had to be ‘Mr. Haystack’ for 364 days of the year, but Rules were Rules – until, of course, they weren’t – and those days were approaching far quicker than the Mayans predicted.

The entity nicknamed Mr. Haystack and Sam pushed the thoughts of possible futures out of his mind as he watched the married couple try out their conjoined bodies.  There would be time enough for the seeds of the new future to grow root and bloom.  What mattered now was that this night was his, and he meant to savor it.

All hail the Pumpkin King.


THE END?


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