Thread: Blackmailing my Sister (Firm Master + Angel)

Helen was soaking wet and cold beyond belief, but as she looked back at the tumultuous ocean she sighed heavily in relief. Her wet, baggy shirt clung to her breasts as her dark brown hair hung in damp curls around her smooth, tan, heart shaped face. Her pants clung to her legs and you could see the waist line of black lace panties, as well as the outline of a black, lace bra through her white shirt. She was panting hard as she collapsed against the dock, the waves still lapping against her feet as she trembled slightly. Part of her was relieved, another part of her felt dread, and yet another part of her was in shock. Had she really just killed hers and Sam's father ? She hadn't meant too, but it had turned into a brutal night, and she thought that their father was going to kill her, she had to run, had to get away. Of course, John, their father, had been drunk and had given chase, when he had tripped and fell into the ocean once he had Helen cornered on the docks. The waves were clashing, though it was not a stormy night, it was a windy night causing the sea to throw a tantrum, but, even through his drunken state, John had remained afloat and had grabbed her ankle as he went down into the ocean. She had yelped out and had started struggling, falling down hard, her chin hitting against the wooden floor of the dock with a clatter as she saw stars, almost losing the battle as she was drug by John almost all the way off the dock. Then, the stars had, bless the lord, cleared and she gripped the dock before she could leave, the waves splashing up and soaking her entirely as she begin to kick and struggled against the grip that he had on her ankle. She had been kicking and struggling for a good ten minutes before she finally felt his grip loosen and she was able to weakly pull herself up to collapse on the dock, her feet still in the crashing waters of the ocean. Her heart was pounding, and she was panting, the relief filled her as she managed to kill John, her tormentor....... but....but where was Sam? Her heart plummeted at the thought as dread filled her, Sam had been over at a friend's house, but she had heard the crunch of gravel as a car pulled up to their small house, positioned between the trees, a good five miles from the closest town and well away from the waters edge or high tide. She heard footsteps and she tried to push herself up, afraid and terrified of Sam's reaction when he saw her there, but did not see John, his father, their father . She collapsed, too weakened from the fight to do anything but just wait as she heard the footsteps come to a stop just a mere foot away from her. She trembled as she looked up and into the face of Sam, squinting at the sudden bright light of a flashlight and she bit down on her lip hard, tasting blood as fear and dread filled her as she could only imagine that Sam was putting together the puzzle pieces and realizing that Helen, his sister had killed their father. She shivered against the cold wind that still blew, shivering more as it made her clothes seem freezing cold and frigid in the night air as she stared up at Sam, wondering what he would do. She swallowed hard, she didn't want to go to jail, she didn't want to rot away for life in a cell.....or....or worse, be put on death row for the charge of first degree murder. She trembled violently and almost convulsed at the idea, trying to sit up again. Finally, she had managed to pull herself into a sitting position, but she was cornered and she knew it. The ocean was behind her and Sam was in front of her, blocking off her only escape, though in her weakened state, she wouldn't even be able to run and so she wrapped her arms around her knees as she pulled them up to her chest, almost curling up, as if trying to protect herself against the possible punishment to be dished out by her brother. She felt her lower lip quivering, and tears slipped down her cheeks as she spoke, though her voice came out choked and it was followed by a quiet sob as she begin to cry quietly, a few sobs coming every now and then, I'm.........I.....I'm so s....sorry sam.....sam, please....please don't call the police....I'm only 17, please....... She was almost begging and pleading with him as she whimpered and sobbed quietly as she looked up at him, waiting for a response or for a reaction as she remained curled up, prepared to protect herself if she had to .