webnovel

If These Walls Could Talk

"You will call me, Mistress. I am your Master now and you have no choice in what I do to you. Do you understand me?" "Yes, Mistress." Lirael loves her sex life, she enjoys the no strings attached while still having fun. But what happens when someone disrupts her routine and makes her crave something more than just sex? Can she work through her past trauma and handle the uncertainty that comes with what's being offered? R18 Profanity, Explicit Sexual Content, Adult Situations & Topics of Past Abuse Occur, If you are sensitive to these, I advise reading a different story. This is the story of a dominatrix/Impact player, some themes, experiences and reactions are inspired by real life events.. However, this is mainly a work of fiction as told in whole, any and all places, people or interactions have been altered and heavily embellished for the purpose of this story.

Mara_Heller · สมัยใหม่
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
104 Chs

44 Water

I was dead the next day at work, even with multiple cups of coffee, I barely made it through the day. I should have known better last night. I knew Lance would not be able to stop after just one time.

Or two times for that matter.

The day was almost over, just a few more minutes when Jim came out and called me into his office.

"Lirael, are you okay? You've never drank so much coffee, and I have never received so many calls regarding your procedure numbers needing to be corrected. Here's the list and that's just from Blue X company, Kisser company is this one." He hands me the lists and I look down over them. Most of them are standard procedures and I have left off a number or double digited one.

"My apologies, Jim. I'll take care of all of these before I go home." I quickly say, ready to get this taken care of.

"Lirael, you didn't answer my question." He says pointedly, making me sigh.

"I was up late, apparently a pipe leaked or busted at Lance's place and I helped him move some stuff into my place for the time being." I give an awkward smile as Jim's eyes grow wide.

He picks up the phone and quickly dials a number, I stand and point to the papers and he waves me off as the other line picks up.

"Lance, did something happen at your place?"

I close the door for privacy, rejoining the ladies who are quick to wonder why I was called in. I refer to my lists that I need to resubmit for these requests and they merely nod and groan. We've all experienced these kind of days, that our brains just didn't catch the errors as we were doing them.

Thankfully, these were minor errors and easily fixed before the day ended.

"Lirael!" Jim calls out as we are leaving the office.

"Yes? Did another company send more mistakes?" I twirl around, scolding myself internally for my poor work performance today.

"Sorry, I just got off the phone with Lance. He asked me to tell you, if you would please go to help him out at his place. He needs to pack the stuff from his place up so the movers can take it to storage. The insurance appraisers already came by and took their pictures and itemized lists for the damaged items. He doesn't want me helping him out. I guess there's a few others going over that I might not get along with." He shrugs apologetically as my shoulders visibly slump.

"Yes, I'll go. Thank you, Jim. Give Beth my apologies for not visiting the past few days, please."

Jim gives me a nod, waving bye as I head out to my car.

Sighing, I head over to the club, preparing myself for the possible loss of our safe place that we could be ourselves that the rest of society just didn't understand.

I try not to let those thoughts run wild, but my tired brain doesn't stop imagining losing the only place with people that I've felt accepted in my life. Where my past doesn't matter, my job, my home, my car, my clothes, none of that matters. The only thing that mattered there was the mutual respect for one another and the trust given freely because of that respect. The 'normal' world does not offer that to people, as much as they edify they do, it quickly changes to being judged and repudiated.

Tears form and threaten to fall over my cheeks, the anxiety and sense of loss filling up faster than I can blink as the tears flow over. I wipe my eyes quickly and take a few shaky breaths, trying to pull myself together.

"It will be okay, if it only took the one day for the insurance to check and amount the items for damage, it probably was not as bad as I'm thinking." I mutter my thoughts out loud, hoping hearing it with my own ears, helps it ease my anxious emotions.

I arrive at the club, noticing the moving company already loading the items from the shops that lease their spaces below Lances place and the club. I check my face and wipe the little mark of mascara from my tears earlier before I step out of the car.

I make my way up the stairs, noticing the water stained areas where it most likely pooled after flowing out. I can hear the familiar voices of Jack, Simon and Big Daddy, as I approach the cracked open door. I step hesitantly, slowly opening the door, bracing my self for what I was going to see.

My eyes see the paint that's bubbled up off the lower part of the wall, the warped wooden strip flooring that stuck up around the corners and edges, the bits of dirt and plaster that littered and clumped in random areas, the still wet rugs that were rolled up and put in a pile. My heart started to ache.

"Lirael! Hey, glad you're here to help." Jack throws an arm around my shoulders giving me a quick comforting hug.

"I know, it heart breaking isn't it?" He shakes his head as he watches me scan the room with a sad, silent nod.

"Don't fret too much, Lance is on it. We'll be hopefully getting started on all this pretty quick." Jack steers me into the bar area, where Big Daddy and Simon are, placing boxes on the counters, table, and seats.

"Hey Mistress." Simon gives me a sad smile as Big Daddy just nods in greeting to me.

"How can..." My voice breaks, embarrassed now, I clear my throat. "How can I help?" I say louder and with more confidence.

"Let us take care of these heavy items. Why don't you go pack up the lockers, just make sure you keep them separate, labeled, and check the itemized list before moving on to the next one. I'd hate to think anyone would give Lance a hard time right now, but there's always at least one who'll kick you while you are down." Simon sets another box down that clinks, most likely full of liquor bottles.

I nod and head to the locker room, taking note of the boxes and sharpies available on one of the tables in there and get to work. Thankfully, nothing seemed to ruined in the locker room since the lockers where all high enough off the ground.

I was checking the rooms for any of the objects that should have been in the locker room that were part of the rented items. Very few things seemed to be ruined in the rooms as well, which was a good thing it looked like. I rolled up the wet rugs in some of the rooms, piling them up like I had seen done with the others, knowing that they most likely would be tossed.

I just set down the last box I had packed up from the locker rooms to be put into storage with the others, noting that Simon was sweeping out any water that was still on the floor with a push broom.

"Hey Simon, is there some where we need to put the rugs?" I asked, taking a seat on the little bit of cushion not overtaken by the boxes.

"Big Daddy and Jack just took a wheel barrow down with some to the trash. As long as they're rolled up, they'll get them. Lance is in his section, packing some more of his stuff for storage. I guess he's staying with you for now?" Simon pushes the water to the drain behind the bar.

"Yeah, he is. I should probably go help him, unless there's something you'd like me to help with?" I ask moving to head to Lance's section of the club.

"No, go ahead and help Lance. He probably needs it, thanks anyways." He gives me a lighthearted smile, trying to be positive despite the facts around us.