Sela's Struggle Ch. 01

Sela, freezing and rain soaked, nearly skidded into the SF skyrise, but managed to balance and save the tray of Starbucks coffee orders she'd just retrieved. Wisps of her long dark hair escaped the hair clip, falling sloppily over her large round eye glasses. With no free hands to push her hair back, she attempted to shake the hair from her glasses and used a tray to nudge her glasses up as she waited for the elevator to open.

When the doors opened, a couple held each other closely, hips together, their mouths lingering as if they were unaware the elevator doors and opened. The woman was young, maybe Sela's age 25 or 26. She had dark red hair in a sloppy bun and wore all black. Sela figured she worked in one of the many offices, much like her. The young man was obviously a bike messenger in khaki cargo pants and plaid shirt, carrying a messenger bag. Gazing at each other, the couple finally exited the elevator oblivious to anyone around them, allowing Sela and a gentleman to enter. She glanced at the gentleman, unable to hold back her smirk and they shared a silent laugh at the couple.

"Something about elevators," the man said, his voice low and soft.

"Elevators," Sela returned shrugging her shoulders. She looked down, not embarrassed but because she felt that sexual pulling in her gut as soon as she realized how attractive he was. He was clearly over 6ft and his strong, straight stance added more immensity to his presence. She noticed a brightness and intensity in his shimmering green eyes that contrasted with his dark hair and olive skin.

"Which floor," he inquired.

"Oh, 8th. Thanks," she blurted, realizing the elevator was still. She saw him push the top floor as well. The doors closed, leaving them the only two in the elevator. They rode in silence, Sela straining to hold the two trays of coffees and the gentleman leaning casually against the back wall his hands in the pockets of his expensive light gray suit, finely tailored and hinting at his firm physique.

Sela breathed a sigh of relief as the elevators opened on the 8th floor and she quickly walked to the offices on the right. She backed in, using her rear to push open the door and finally landed the drinks on the receptionist's counter.

"Gosh, you're soaked," Rebecca, the receptionist observed. Obviously, Sela thought, restraining the need to roll her eyes. Sela knew why she was the one always sent to the afternoon Starbucks run, even though she never drank coffee. Rebecca was stylishly coiffed and beautiful, as were the paralegals and secretaries. Asking them to go on a coffee run would be like asking Giselle Bunchen to shine your shoes. Sela had given herself this dowdy look, so she couldn't very well complain. Besides, she didn't mind going as unnoticed as possible.

After delivering the coffees and receiving more obvious remarks on her soaked state, she closed the door to her tiny office and sat at her desk with a large sigh. She took off her glasses and straightened her hair. Her clothes weren't worth worrying about and could dry on their own. She had to concentrate for two more hours and then she could focus on the evening ahead of her.

Emery Landers entered his suite of offices that took up the entire top floor. He nodded a half smile to the receptionist and disappeared into his office. He opened a folder atop his desk, glancing over the financial reports. Images of the young woman in the elevator flitted into his mind. At first glance, she was dowdy and awkward. Yet, her large green eyes conveyed a different person. They possessed, self-confidence and intelligence. Something about them was alluring, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He shook his head to clear the thoughts and went back to his reports.

Sela blew out her dark hair using a straightening brush and dryer diffuser. The oily product followed by a flat iron achieved flat hair that reminded her of Morticia Addams. She applied a heavy matte foundation to her pale nearly flawless skin, gray eye shadow over her eyelids and liner and mascara. Her green eyes blazed as she took another drink of her vodka tonic, loosening her up and making it easier for her to do what she needed. After applying a burnt red lipstick she pulled on her tall dark boots with the 4 inch stiletto heels, making her easily over 6ft.

Sela had no issue with her 5' 9" height and actually enjoyed towering over others in her heels. Despite her height, her slender but strong physique gave away the fact that she was a distant runner. Her much shorter competition sized up her soaring legs and c cup breasts and quickly dismissed her until her gazelle like gait passed them by. That was college. Now she ran to pound away her angst and her destructive desires.

Gulping down the rest of her drink, Sela shrugged into her long overcoat, threw the hood over her hair and walked out to her car for the short ride over to the club. She knew herself well enough. If she didn't get her fix, she'd be a huge bitch by tomorrow and probably murder someone by next week. Running out her strong sexual needs worked for only so long.

The members only club was in an industrial district that was half way to gentrification. The building itself was owned by the couple who ran the club and lived in the top floor designer loft that was probably worth a fortune due to the art pieces alone. Sela pressed the club code on the box outside the door and waved into the camera. The door buzzed and she navigated the stairs in her ridiculous boots. At the door on the second floor she showed her ID to the guard Trevon who had seen her now on precisely 8 occasions. She made a point of keeping track of the number of times she visited since landing in the East Bay. Sela believed keeping track was a way of keeping control of what she felt was an addiction and an affliction.

Once inside the door, she glanced around the room which looked like any other kind of waiting area only she could hear the music coming from the back room and there was a stuffed bunny on the front desk wearing a collar, handcuffs and a ball-gag. Bettina, a tiny blond with double D's that only porn money can buy, came from the back room and smiled at Sela.

"Hi Bunny," she said, which is what Sela had asked everyone to call her on her first visit. She didn't need anyone other than the owners knowing her real name and she certainly didn't want anyone recognizing her on the street. She'd had enough scandal in her short life to have the good sense to protect herself. Sela signed the waiver and entered the door to the back room.

Couples and singles lounged on the couches and they all appraised her as she entered. She wasn't ready to look for anyone. She needed another drink and a chance to change her mind about indulging in her addiction. Instead, Sela sat at the corner of the small bar and ordered a vodka tonic from Edward who was sporting his own collar, nipple clamps and a thong. She hated coming to this club, but it was the only way she knew to get her fix and keep her anonymity.

"Long time no see, Bunny," Edward said, putting down a napkin and her drink that he gussied up with an umbrella.

"Did Yvonne make you her bitch tonight?" Sela asked.

"How'd you know?" he asked, dramatically leaning on his elbows and batting his eyelashes at her.

"She's partial to nipple clamps," Sela says and couldn't help to smile at Edward who could chat it up with anyone, making them feel like his best friend.

"Here, honey," he said, offering a pack of Camel's to her. Sela took one and inhaled as Edward lit her cigarette. At least half the room was smoking and enjoying the only place in the East Bay they could get away with smoking. Hell, they were about to do a whole lot worse so why worry about some smoke.

"Is Eric here?" Sela asked, hoping to be with someone she knew and not someone she had to have a long conversation with about soft limits and hard limits. Sela wasn't hard core enough for a lot of them. A couple tried to go beyond her limits and she had to end the whole scene and leave more frustrated than before she had arrived.

"Mmmm. He hasn't been around in a while, but t heard he was having dinner with Evan and Brynn. Do you want me to ring them and see if he's coming down tonight?" Edward offered.

Sela thought for a moment. "I don't want to seem desperate. I could probably find someone else."

"Bunny, you only come here when you're desperate for a good spanking and hard fuck. Let me call them up," he said, walking away in heels and a leather corset.

"Fine," Sela mumbled, her gut clenching with anticipation and the need for release. She leaned back and glanced around the room. She didn't have to be casual about checking people out here. They were all sizing each other up, especially fresh relative newbies like her. Not that she was a newbie, she just didn't come around often.

A skinny guy about 4 inches shorter than she, wearing a t-shirt and boyfriend jeans sat next to her at the bar. She knew what he was looking for when he gave her a coquettish smile that screamed submissiveness.

"I'm not a dom," she said dismissively turning away from him and wondering where the hell Edward went to.

"You don't have to be a bitch about it," he sneered. Sela rolled her eyes. This was probably a bad idea. She should leave before she regretted her decision.

"No, you shouldn't be a bitch," she heard Eric's low voice behind her and felt his hands on her shoulders, sending a shiver down her spine. She turned around to see him mouth "leave" to the skinny guy and sitting down at his empty seat. His right hand grazed down her arm on to her thigh, coaxing another shiver. His left hand took the cigarette from her hands and crushed it out in the ash tray.

"You know how I feel about these," he said in an admonishing voice, looking at her sternly. Sela melted from the assured gaze from his watery blue eyes. Eric was beyond handsome. His light brown hair was messily slicked back from his chiseled face that donned a knee melting 5 o'clock shadow. The man oozed sex and masculinity and she was certin Eric was already beginning the scene, making Sela's heart race and the anticipation in her gut twist and turn. She met his gaze, they locked momentarily so they both could recognize agreement. She then looked down, indicating her will to submit to him.

Eric raised her chin forcing her to look at him again. He moved her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. His heated breath made her shiver again.

"Breathe, Sela," he said. She let out a breath. "Good girl." he kissed her mouth. "Come, Sela."

Sela gasped, realizing it was the first time he used her name. How did he know?

"Relax. Evan and Brynn told me. It's awkward having a scene with a girl named 'Bunny'. I promise not to tell," he smiled at her. He wanted her relaxed and into the scene and not on guard. He put his hands around her face, his fingers in her hair and pulled her lips to his. "Are you going to trust me Sela?"

Sela breathed out. She needed this and she knew Eric could be trusted. "Yes,"

"Good girl," he purred. "We have the third room. Walk in front of me so I can see that luscious ass of yours."

Sela smiled and her shoulders relaxed. She hopped off the chair to head to the scene rooms. Eric pulled back hard and she caught his warning look. He was back in scene.

"Yes, Eric," she said dropping her gaze submissively. He wasn't too into the 'sir' or 'master' thing so it was an easy condition to negotiate. She wasn't really for it herself . She needed a little intimacy to trust him. She guessed he deserved to call her by her name as well.

"Go," he ordered.

The scene room was one of the smaller ones and suited their needs, as she wasn't into all of the contraptions. A bed, bondage, punishing implements and a few toys worked fine for her and Eric seemed to enjoy it too. She wondered what he did with other women, but honestly didn't care as long as she could trust he would respect her limits and he always did. She knew he had a fondness for her, but he probably did with a few women. He was easy to like and goddamn ripped and gorgeous. His light brown hair, which reached just below his shoulders, was pulled back in ponytail. He had blue eyes that twinkled with a sense of mischief .

After closing the door, Eric pulled her into another embrace and tenderly kissed her. This was his way of softening her, making her trust him so she would capitulate to his demands. She returned his kiss eagerly and their mouths sought each other like old lovers. After a couple of minutes he pulled back.

"Strip Sela. Then I want those fuck-me boots back on and you standing here," he commanded in a low voice, indicating the space next to the ottoman at the foot of the bed.

"Yes, Eric," she said pulling her eyes down. Sela pulled her off-the-shoulder shirt over her head, revealing a lace push up bra. After carefully stepping out of her boots, she pulled off her leggings, then stepped back into boots. She knew Eric liked a peek at her lacy bra and panties while she stood in her boots. He glanced over at her from the DVD player where he had just put in a CD of haunting gregorian chanting to a rhythmic sexual beat.

"Sexy as always, but take them off," he said in his low sultry voice that increased her desire for him. He then walked over to a side table where he had lain his punishing implements and assessed his choices for the scene. Sela took that as her cue to finish undressing and to stand at the foot of the bed with her head down and her hands on her thighs.

E xcitement and adrenaline rushed through her. Her senses seemed to come to life, she heard every note in the music, smelled the scent of leather, sensed every movement Eric made.

"Toys and scarves?" he asked.

"They're in my bag,," she answered. Not moving, not gazing up. She heard him open her bag and pull out the silky lavender scarves and the few toys she preferred - soft butterfly nipple clamps, butt plugs and a couple of vibrators.

The room was equipped with a black leather bed, topped with a red satin sheet that was washed and changed after each scene. At the head and foot of the bed were 4 steel posts equally spaced for binding and restraining. Participants provided their own toys, binding ropes, cables or the like, as well as instruments of punishment and pain. Sela brought her toys and scarves as she preferred softer binding that wouldn't leave marks. Eric had his own "implements of pain and pleasure" as he liked to call them - crops, canes, floggers, feathers.

Eric dimmed the lights and turned on a red lamp near the bed. It gave the room a glow of passion and intensity. Sela heard him approach her and saw his bare feet and faded jeans that hugged his well defined quads and hung just below his pelvis and his tight, ripped abs. Sela inhaled sharply as she felt the crop in his hand lightly graze over her breast and slowly make its way down her stomach.

"You look beautiful as always," he purred, circling around her to her back his crop tracing her body as he moved. His hands went up and placed the dark blindfold over her eyes. "I want you to focus on feeling every touch to your body. Feel the intensity of the even the lightest of touches. Give yourself over to the sharpest of blows." He circled back around to her front, slowly as if assessing his prey, deciding how he would push her to the brink of her limits, the height of need and desire.

"I've missed you, Sela. You've been gone a few months. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Why ever not? You are goddamn hot." He spoke low as he continued to trace up and down her body with his crop. Over her breasts, down her stomach, circling her navel. Down her outer thighs, up on the inside and faintly over her recently waxed pussy, making her inhale sharply.

"Tell me why, Sela?" he demanded a little louder.

"I don't want one," she said quickly, unsure why he wanted to know.

"Why don't you have a dom?"

"I don't want one," she answered quickly. She didn't want personal questions.

"I know you've done this before. You must have a had a dom who taught you. He should have taught you to be safer." Now she really didn't know where he was going with this, but it wasn't what she wanted. Nothing personal, just a scene.

"I know about the two others you tried a scene with here. That wasn't safe was it?" he said, his crop hit the side of her breast, not hard, but somewhat sharp and it startled her. She couldn't answer, her mind was swirling into a panic. Then she felt a sharp blow to her other breast.

"Answer me Sela," Eric demanded louder.

"Yellow," she said. Eric dropped the crop and reached to take off the blind-fold.

"What the hell Sela. We just started. What's going on with you?"

"No personal questions. Please Eric," she pleaded. He lifted her chin and made her gaze at him. His eyes watered with concern, searching in her eyes for an answer for what he was trying to understand about her.

"Why are you here? What is it you want from this?" he asked, softer.

"No questions, please. I just...I need this. God Eric, please don't ask me to explain. I just need-" He cut her off with a soft kiss.

"Shh. It's okay. No questions. I'll give you what you need, but we're going to discuss your safety. Not now, but later." He kissed her again. It was more intimate than he'd ever been with her. His mouth moved to her ear and he whispered. "Relax, Sela. Breathe for me." She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. She regulated her breathing, all the while his mouth stayed next to her, he held her closely.

"Are you ready? I'm going to give you what you need," he said, the soft words melting her tension. God, he was good. How well he could read her, though they barely knew each other. She wanted this. She needed it. She felt she would go mad without the release he could give her.

"Yes," she whispered. Eric gently replaced the blindfold. He took her hand and led her over to the bed.