Political Liabilities (Moirae, Grape & Ramster)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Ramster on 07-04-2011, 08:09:20</h2>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Political Liabilities (Moirae, Grape &amp; Ramster)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ramster</strong> on <strong>07-04-2011, 08:09:20</strong>
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				<em>Washington D.C., 7.30 am</em><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_F7C1q5hJhpQ/SFBk2pJdKqI/AAAAAAAAAYA/r5KE_yyPX6A/s400/0000005745_20060919235403.jpg)</div>Eric Wallingford (R), Senator for Virginia, shuffled downstairs in his bathrobe, fresh out of the shower. It was a Sunday morning, and a pleasant day off for Wallingford before he'd&nbsp; kick off his campaign for re-election the next day. He looked forward to spending a day with the trips, as he affectionately called them, his trio of adolescents. A family dinner after church, and maybe a day out somewhere, so he could feel like a father to them before the election campaign chaos sent him all over the place and left him little time to be with his family.<br><br>Hmm, odd. Normally Brianna would be awake by now, making a pot of coffee and keeping her daddy company over their early Sunday morning breakfast. Becca and Howard Eric Jr. weren't normally up before noon or so. Eric shrugged and put set the coffee to brew himself, and sat down at the table with a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, a glass of orange juice and the morning newspaper. He checked the political comments section, dismissed its spineless liberal bias, paged through the financial section, and before he could reach the sports pages his eye fell upon the main gossip headline:<br><br><div align="center"><strong>GOP SENATOR'S DAUGHTERS GO WILD: CAPITOL TWINCEST</strong></div><br>He blinked at the photographs underneath the shrill headline. <em>No! It couldn't be!</em><br><br>They were shocking beyond belief, showing a drunken lesbian kiss in a night club from almost every imaginable angle. The girls were clearly wasted, holding half empty alcopop bottles, and the flash of the camera lit up their pink playing tongues.<br><br>They were his brat of a daughter Becca, and his precious baby girl Brianna, making out drunkenly in front of all of Washington. No wonder no one was up for breakfast. Sweet Jesus! What had he done to deserve this? On the morning before he went on the campaign trail, too! The girls obviously needed setting straight before they dragged the Wallingford name any further through the mud, and cost him his seat in the Senate. As for Howard Eric Jr., that good for nothing wastrel needed to shape up fast or he could kiss his trust fund goodbye. The trips would start their re-education into responsible, hardworking responsible adults today, as God was his witness. It had been too long since he'd taken them to church; the social control of the community would help keep them out of messes like this if only they'd been more involved with the congregation before.<br><br>Just then, Eric's phone rang. "Senator Wallingford? This is the DCPD. We have your son Howard here, and he's spent the early morning with us." The senator's son had been on quite a bender on Saturday night, even by his own standards, it seemed. He'd been arrested for public drunkenness around 2 a.m. outside a bar after being kicked out. Seeing as this was far from Howard Eric Jr.'s first offense, the bail had been set at $500. <em>Three for three!</em> Eric thought as he hung up, poured his coffee and juice down his throat, and finished his cereal briskly. He had to make a stand. After clearing away his breakfast, he headed upstairs and rapped on the doors of his daughters' bedrooms.<br><br>"Brianna! Becca! Get up and come downstairs this instant!" he shouted, banging loudly on each door on either side of the corridor to wake his slutty little angels. Eric then went back down and sat down in his armchair with a stern look and the paper folded open at the Wallingford sisters photo exclusive.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Political Liabilities (Moirae, Grape &amp; Ramster)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>07-04-2011, 18:33:09</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/8426/92853359.jpg)</div> A low groan escaped Becca as she heard the loud knock on her bedroom door. Honestly, it felt like someone had grabbed an ice pick and jabbed it in her ear the instant she heard the knock. As she stuck her head out from under her pillows, she felt her stomach roll and reached for the trashcan by her bed, almost missing it as she vomited into the metal bin. Before she could even take a breath, another wave hit her and she almost dropped the fucking bin again.<br><br>Last night...had been...Epic.<br><br>Once her stomach controlled itself, Rebecca Wallingford, middle child of Senator Wallingford sat up and clenched her teeth as the action caused her stomach to roll. After taking a few minutes to sweet talk her stomach into giving her a break, Becca slowly sat up and made her way to the bathroom. She needed a shower. Badly. Whatever it was her Father wanted from her could wait; shit, she didn't even understand why she was up before noon anyway. What day of the week was it, too? Friday?...One glance at her cellphone made her eyes almost snap out of her head. SUNDAY! It was Sunday and he was waking her up this fucking early!<br><br>"Fuck...that." The sound of her own voice made her wince, causing Becca to shudder...and the action caused her body to revolt against holding back the nausea she felt. Throwing the trash can in the bathtub, Becca slammed her knees down on the tile, jerked the toilet seat up and proceeded to empty the alcohol that was still in her system.<br><br>It was almost twenty minutes later before she could raise her head up and not whimper in agony. How many drinks had she--No, no. How many bottles had she had? She had taken Bri out against her objections, and had proceeded to intoxicate the hell out of her beautiful baby sister. Except...Becca frowned, trying to think of everything that happened. It was a daily occurrence with her, the blackouts and the spotty memories. At the ripe age of 21, Becca could honestly say she had done it all and seen it all. She was the delightful thorn in her Daddy's side and she adored it.<br><br>It wasn't that she intentionally got in trouble, Becca just had a <em>small</em> problem with authority. And her Father, Senator Eric Wallingford, was the equivalent of a Christian Natzi. The middle one out of triplets, Becca was just used to getting her way! The first time she had been caught smoking, she had received a reprimand. The first time she had been caught fucking her boyfriend, she had received a day in confessional. And last time she had gone to church? Well, she had 'accidentally' been caught drinking and driving; Honestly, she wouldn't have been caught...if she hadn't run her vehicle into a police car. Thankfully, the car was empty since the police officer was writing someone else a ticket. But after her visit to the hospital, Daddy had shipped her off to Rehab. She had come out a clean young woman!<br><br>...That had lasted the plane ride from Arizona back home. The instant the plane had touched down, Becca had made a beeline to Ward's liquor cabinet. Her older brother normally didn't mind her stealing alcohol from him. Especially with...the little arrangement they had.<br><br>As Rebecca flushed the toilet, she stumbled into the bathtub and turned the water on. She didn't care if it was cold or hot...she just needed to wash off the scent of liquor, smoke and sex. Sex? When the hell had she had sex? Whatever. She had a feeling her darling Father was going to try and force her to go to church with him.<br><br>Why else would he ask her to get up at eight in the fucking morning!?<br><br><div align="center">(http://images.faithclipart.com/images/3/1226519066217_291/img_1226519066217_2911.jpg)</div><br>"Howard Eric Wallingford, Jr."<br><br>Ward let out a quiet sigh at the sound of his name and slowly sat up on the small bed he had been laying on. His hangover was still there, but there hadn't been a need to throw up. Ward's body was past the point of being new to alcohol and substance abuse; his body could handle anything he threw at it. Last night, he had partied a little <em>too</em> hard...but it wasn't truly his fault. His buddies had dared him into a drinking contest and after he had enough to drink, he had to take a piss. The bathroom was full so he did the only normal thing: he took a piss in the bathroom sink.<br><br>It was apparently the WRONG thing to do.<br><br>Before Ward realize what was happening, he was getting kicked out of the bar. And his fucking friends had simply waved and told him they'd see him later on at home. Bastards. And wouldn't you know it, as soon as he took his keys out and began to make his way to his car...the cops showed up. What a damn good setup.<br><br>"I'm here," Ward mumbled as he saw the officer unlocking the jail cell and pulling it open. He slowly smiled when he saw his Father's lawyer on the other side. Whether his Father knew where he was or not didn't truly matter to Ward, when he had been given his 'one call', Ward had called the one person who could save his ass. The family lawyer. Hell, Ward saw that man more often than he saw his own Father.<br><div class="floatleft">(http://img848.imageshack.us/img848/418/38313359.gif)</div><br>"Bail has been posted," The Officer said with a disapproving look towards Ward. He looked at the lawyer and jerked his head. "He's free to go but has to meet with the judge--"<br><br>"He knows what to do," Ward snapped, impatient to get out and go home. He wanted a hot shower and to crawl back into bed. Hell, he was starting to get a headache and knew a certain lovely little syringe that was waiting for him at home to take care of all his aches and pain. Unless Becca had been in his room again, and if she had...then she better have a damn good reason for taking his shit. Ward didn't mind sharing his goodies with his middle sister, but there were times when she was so fucking selfish. She wouldn't think twice about stealing his weed. Or his coke.<br><br>The Office waited until Ward and his lawyer were almost to the door before he added, "Oh yeah. Mr. Wallingford?"<br><br>"Yes?" Ward said through clenched teeth, the urge to punch the fuck out of the cop building. Didn't they realize that this would be swept under the rug like every other incident in his life? He was fucking Howard Eric Wallingford, he could kill someone and it would all be swept under the rug. Ward had half a mind to complain to the Police Department and have the&nbsp; man's badge taken from him. God, that would be gre--<br><br>"I also took the liberty of calling your Father and making him aware of the situation."<br><br>Fuck.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Political Liabilities (Moirae, Grape &amp; Ramster)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>desert ashes</strong> on <strong>14-04-2011, 09:22:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v335/iconofroses/MilaKunis03-2.png)</div><em>Bang!&nbsp; Bang!</em><br><br>Sharply Brianna winced as agonizing pain sliced through her head and had her cowering beneath her blankets.&nbsp; Her mouth felt incredibly dry and her stomach hadn't ever felt this queasy before in her life.&nbsp; In one short word, she felt miserable.&nbsp; More, the pain was pounding on her temples, not easy, even for a little, and for a few moments she thought she might be dying, right there and then.&nbsp; The memories of last night, an even that really had only ended a few hours ago she realized when glancing at the nearby alarm clock, were hazy at best, but none of them had her feeling better.&nbsp; How could she have let Becca talk her into drinking?&nbsp; Not even just drinking but becoming out right smashed.&nbsp; Plus, she had a suspicion drinking wasn't the only thing they had done.&nbsp; Becca never partied light, quite unlike Bria who partied... never.&nbsp; <br><br><em>Except for last night...</em><br><br>Whimpering she slowly rolled out of bed, winced at the blaring sunlight that streamed through the tall, wide windows of her room.&nbsp; In her bra and panties she stumbled mostly blindly to her connected bathroom, stripped off the underwear and sighing, submerged herself into the hot shower.&nbsp; Initially all she could do was stand there as the hot water began to ease her muscles and slowly bring her from miserable to awful.&nbsp; As she let the water seep into her, her eyes closed and forehead resting on the warmed wall tiles, her thoughts began to whirl and her mental gears worked to get past the alcohol induced fog. <br><br>She knew saying yes last night had been a mistake.&nbsp; For twenty-one years now she had known listening to her older sister – by all of three minutes –&nbsp; was normally not a good idea.&nbsp; After all, it wasn't Becca who had responsibility to keep up, goals that she was working toward.&nbsp; Becca was a lot of things, but responsible?&nbsp; Under the water Brianna rolled her eyes and finally picked up her shampoo bottle, began to through her routine.&nbsp; She couldn't entirely blame Becca, though.&nbsp; The last year of her pre-law and political science double major at Georgetown University was proving to be more stressful than she had prepared for.&nbsp; Plus acting as her father's hostess, being his plus one whenever his he needed her and trying desperately to keep everything as normal as possible, she should have seen last night coming or at least taken care of her stress and anxiety before now.&nbsp; There was too much a stake – for her, her dad, and siblings – to let something like this happen.&nbsp; Maybe especially for her dad.<br><br>Ten minutes later Bria padded back out to her room, her slenderly curved form wrapped in a thick, fluffy towel, her wet, long black hair hanging loose down her back.&nbsp; What on earth was she going to say to him?&nbsp; Almond eyes flashed as they landed on the framed photos set across the top of her dressed, then focused on the one taken just last Christmas, particularly on the attractive brunette.&nbsp; <em>Mom.</em>&nbsp; Seated on the ten thousand dollar couch was she, Becca and their brother Ward, the oldest of the triplets; behind them were their parents, all smiling as if they hadn't a care in the world while surrounded by the bright and cheerful holiday decorations.&nbsp; Somehow Bria knew if their mom was still here last night wouldn't have happened.&nbsp; Everything would still be just the way it was supposed to be.&nbsp; Bria quickly blinked back the sudden tears, then exhaled and got dressed. <br><br>From her room she emerged in a demure, ivory sundress, paired with a short, pale gold half jacket and ivory flats.&nbsp; The circles were still there under her eyes, she not having taken any longer in front of the mirror than it took to braid her hair.&nbsp; This wasn't going to go well, she thought with a frown, and made her way downstairs.&nbsp; A quick detour was made to the kitchen where she gulped down a glass of orange juice and two Advil and quickly toasted a bagel.&nbsp; It was a small delay tactic, she knew, but facing her father wasn't precisely something she was looking forward to.<br><br>The bagel in hand, Bria left the kitchen to face the music.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Political Liabilities (Moirae, Grape &amp; Ramster)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>15-04-2011, 14:29:02</strong>
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				She was pushing her luck by prolonging the inevitable. As Becca slowly rinsed the soap off her body, she knew that if she remained in her room, her Father was liable to come in and drag her out. Naked and all. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was to irritate the living hell out of her wonderful Daddy. A smirk of amusement crossed her lips, which showed how much better she was feeling. Half an hour had passed since she had crawled into the shower and the more time she spent under the spray, the better she felt.<br><br>But alas, all good things must come to an end.<br><br>Becca reached for the knob and shut off the cold water, not bothering with a towel as she stepped out and walked into her bedroom. She winced at the glaring sunlight, hating her Father all the more for forcing her out of bed so early. She could still be sleeping, burrowed in her sheets until a few more hours passed! Rolling her eyes, she stepped over the shoes and clothes scattered on the floor and went into her closet. She halfway turned to go back to her drawer and grab a pair of panties but shrugged, heading further into her closet. She didn't need panties...she was going to church, not to school. Stifling a yawn, Becca grabbed a pair of shorts and slipped them on, smirking as she felt the rough fabric tease her sex. She shuddered, her body responding as if someone had flipped a switch, but she ignored it, knowing that her time was quickly diminishing. Father could barge in at any moment...<br><br>Reaching for her black bra, Becca quickly put it on as she grabbed a black designer top, walking out of the closet while she was jerking it over her head. She winced, looking around for her sunglasses. When her eyes landed on her hair brush, she looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head; there was no way in hell she was going to brush her hair when she had a headache the size of New York. She would put her hair up once it dried. Slipping her sunglasses on, Becca jerked her door open, not bothering to slip on any shoes. If all worked out in her favor, she would be crawling back into bed in an hour.<br><br>She knew how to sweeten up her Daddy...plus, if he was adamant about taking them to church, Becca would just force Bri to go for her. One triplet was better than no triplet, right?<br><br>Making her way down the stairs,&nbsp; Becca had to stop once to gain control of her stomach. She still felt rather queasy. As if by magic, she saw Bri coming out of the kitchen with a bagel and smiled. "Bri!" Rushing towards her, she smiled brightly as she quickly snapped up the top half of the bagel her sister had toasted. It was the way Becca was; always taking from others, never asking merely doing whatever she pleased. Taking a bite out of it, she looped her arm around her sister's and leaned close, murmuring as they walked towards where their father was, "Do you know why he's woken us up this fucking early?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Political Liabilities (Moirae, Grape &amp; Ramster)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>desert ashes</strong> on <strong>21-04-2011, 11:26:33</strong>
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				With a small sigh and inner shake of her head, Brianna ignored the fact that her sister had just taken half of her breakfast without even so much of a 'thank you.'&nbsp; The smile, she supposed, could have counted for that, and saying nothing for a couple moments, Bria bit into the remaining half of the bagel and allowed the food to keep her silent for a few seconds.&nbsp; She truly had no idea why father had summoned them down in such the way he had; if it had only been Becca who'd been waken as such, there would be no questions. It always meant her sister had done <em>something</em> to warrant their father's anger, or once upon a time ago, their mother's.&nbsp; But with her added into the mix?&nbsp; <br><br>"Maybe he found out I wrote your psychology term paper last semester," she finally murmured, the tip of her tongue licking off the bit of cream cheese from the corner of her mouth.&nbsp; "It's the only thing I can finally think of as to why we're both down here."&nbsp; It wouldn't be because she hadn't been up for breakfast and church this morning; with the way the semester was coming to an end, they had barely seen each other except for the needed social event, and he wouldn't be this mad about that.&nbsp; She supposed Becca's term paper could be a reason, but in the grand scheme of things, of how often she had covered her sister's butt in college so far (at times it felt as if she had three majors instead of two), one more term paper didn't really seem like that much.&nbsp; "Speaking of which, you're on your own this semester.&nbsp; I've got too much on my plate," she said and then took another bite of her bagel as they drew closer to their father's study.<br><br>Sadly, she was looking forward to seeing him, despite the circumstances.&nbsp; Even with the social events she attended with him, they'd arrived separately, left separately, and it would be another day or two before their schedules collided.&nbsp; She didn't like it, not one bit, and it reminded her how often she was debating if she really wanted to go to law school after finishing college.&nbsp; The debate always came out the same way -- yes! -- but with how often she wasn't seeing her father, it kept rearing its ugly head again and again.&nbsp; There was some comfort, however, in knowing the semester was almost done and she'd be back at her father's side for his campaign trail at least until law school summoned come fall.&nbsp; By then, though, the need for her appearances could be worked around her college schedule, as it had been in the past.&nbsp; <br><br>It was just when she was about to knock on their father's study door when a flash from last night came back to her.&nbsp; A very... uneasy memory about last night that had her hand snapping back and eyes going wide.&nbsp; <em>Oh God.</em>&nbsp; This... This could be bad.&nbsp; <br><br>"Becca... play nice," was all she could manage to hiss at her triplet before her hand rose once more, this time pushing open the study door.&nbsp; 
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