Black Alexis Dominates White Ch. 03

Being left alone in my own office with the commanding, young black teenager was terrifying enough. She seemed so determined to get to the bottom of my failing business, and it was becoming even more intimidating for me.

In a million years, I would have never guessed that I would be placed into this type of a situation. Nor, would I have guessed that someone, like Alexis, would be taking over my staff in the manner she had been.

Alexis was just 18 years old, and here she was bossing around and directing seven older white women in their 40's and 50's. It seemed as if she had done this so easily, too, and in less than a months' time.

Now, she was directing her attention towards me.

I am quite sure that she could tell I was trembling with nervousness as she walked around my office. Casually, she began looking over the items on my book shelf. For me, it was a very tense moment. I couldn't figure out why I was so intimdated by such a young woman.

I sat there, simply clutching the arms of the large cushioned chair that Alexis had already anchored into place. It was right beside hers.

The young, black woman circled around my office in the most non-chalant of ways as she began to speak.

"You have questions for me, don't you?" she asked.

I was nervous and afraid to ask anything that might set her off again. Yet, somehow my curiosity and concern got the best of me. I needed to ask the questions that were running through my mind since the moment I walked in.

"Y-Yes, I do." I said softly and nervously.

I was beginning to get my voice back. I was frightened, yet I was also getting angry by the way she had been treating all of us. The things she was doing were completely incomprehensible to me at the time.

"What have you been doing?" I asked.

"Why are you being so mean?" I questioned.

"What did you do to Ginny, Beth, Tiffany, Cindy and the rest of my staff?" I asked, in a rather worried and unthinking tone.

Alexis simply strolled up to my side. Her close presence made me regret the tone I just used. Without hestitation, the young black woman grabbed the back of my long, blonde hair and arrogantly pulled my head back to her. She did this until my face was almost straight up and facing the ceiling.

She brought her beautiful face close to mine and began carressing the side of my cheek with one of her long, red fingernails.

"I told you." she began. "I told you that you needed a black woman in this office." she said.

The fear on my face had to be obvious. The petite black woman touched my face as if she was touching a pet. Suddenly, she squeezed the cheeks of my face firmly.

"It's called black dominance." she said.

"It means that a dumb white bitch, like you, will always submit to a black woman, like me." she explained.

Her tone of voice was more arrogant and commanding as she released my face from her firm grip and walked over to her seat behind my desk.

She propped her heeled feet up onto my desk, and crossed them at the ankles with her right foot over the left. They were set just off to the left side of my chair now, a mere six inches away.

"As far as the others go ... well, let's just say that I made them understand." she said.

The expression on this 18 year old woman's beautiful face was cocky, arrogant and all-knowing. It was the look of a cat who had just swallowed a canary.

"W-What do you want from me?" I asked, now more concerned.

Alexis Barron sat back comfortably into what was once my desk chair. She pulled the large blue binder from the desk and plopped it right upon her lap.

"We're going to go over your company portfolio and profit and loss reports line by line." she said.

"I am going to show you how much of an incompetent, dumb white bitch you are." she rudely said.

"But, we're also going to talk about the new contract for the business I brought in." she added.

She began flipping through the first pages of the PNL report as I sat there, in complete shock and awe. I was scared and embarrassed as she began to belittle me. The manner in which scolded me about the way I ran my business over the past two years was absolutely demoralizing.

Alexis was suddenly all business.

The young, black beauty chastised me for not watching the financials closely. She told me that my fixed costs were too high and that I had spent excessively on marketing strategies that were, what she said were "pathetic" and "idiotic."

She began going over the loan I had taken out for the business. Then, she began discussing the product lines and bottle designs of the perfumes.

Then, she discussed the salaries and how I never had been overpaying low talent white women who were more like secretaries than business coordinators.

For the next several hours, Alexis went over every detail of my company's profit and loss reports, line by line, and in the most excruciating detail.

The young black woman even pointed out that I had reported revenue to the IRS that were illegal.

My face was a crimson red from the total embarrassment that I felt. I was already tired from my long trip and now, after nearly 5 hours of being criticized for my imcompetent leadership, I began to grow weary.

I truly felt as if I was going to pass out from the humiliation. But, I did not know at that moment that this humiliation was just the beginning.

I had sat there listening to my new black employee for almost 5 hours. It was shocking how this teenaged woman was able to discover all the flaws in our business and marketing plans, and in such a short period of time.

In less than a month, Alexis Barron was able to point out all of my mistakes. She was able to secure control over a staff of older white women and get them working for her.

She was able to bring in new clients and open discussions with former clients. It wasn't just the newest account that I knew about from the time I left for Oslo ten days ago. There were also 4 other new clients, and her contact with a half dozen customeres that stopped purchasing from us 2 years ago were now talking to her about new business.

It was shocking to me.

The young black woman even pointed out all the mistakes I had made with my personal finances.

She made me feel so incompetent that I could hardly move. I sat there motionless and amazed by her focus and businesslike mind. It was demoralizingly obvious that she completely and totally outclassed me in every way.

Yet, this was still just the beginning of her discussions with me. She wasn't even close to being finished scolding and humiliating me.

Alexis told me we will now discuss the changes she had made while I was gone, and the future business plans she had developed.

"A-Alexis, please?" I pouted.

"Please. This is all too much. I am so tired. This is so embarrassing and I don't want to continue this." I said.

"I-I was thinking that I just want to shut the business down." I explained.

The 18 year old black woman looked back into my eyes, an amused but determined look began to trace her full lips.

"Sit back!" she ordered.

"I said sit back and don't move." she repeated the order.

Her angry tone frightened me. Timidly, I sat back into my chair and looked at the stern face of Alexis Barron. She moved her large executive desk chair to within inches of mine and scooted up to the very edge of her seat.

Once again, she took her right hand and put it to my frightened face. She squeezed my cheeks a little more gently this time.

"Do you agree that you have been incompetent while running this business?" she asked.

"Y-Yes, Alexis." I replied, defeatedly.

"Do you agree that you have made many mistakes that the IRS would thoroughly enjoy hearing about?" she asked.

Her gorgeous face drew even nearer.

"Y-Yes, I-I guess so." I answered nervously.

"Do you admit that your offer to me was an insult to me, and to all black women?" she asked.

Her tone became angrier.

"Yes, Alexis. I-I do admit that ... and, I'm terribly sorry for that but I ..." I apologized.

She interupted my apology with another lighter slap across my face.

"That's right. You should apologize." she ripped.

There was a long pause as she looked deeper into my eyes.

Then, she continued as she realized that I wasn't about to fight back.

"Do you admit that I am smarter than you?" she asked.

"Yes, Alexis. I do." I whispered.

My face was already stinging and I didn't want another slap from the younger black woman, but she was right. I couldn't deny that.

"Do you agree that I'm a better leader, a stronger woman than you, and a far superior business woman than you are?" she drilled.

Her attitude was so dominant. Her words cut into me like razorblades.

"Y-Yes. Yes, Alexis I do agree." I answered.

My eyes were drawn to the floor. I was so humiliated and embarrassed that my throat was beginning to close up as she continued holding onto my face with her right hand.

Alexis tilted my face upwards until my eyes met hers, once again.

"Look at me!" she commanded.

"Keep your eyes up to mine." she ordered.

I opened my half-shut eyes to look at her beautiful and stern face.

"Do you think that I'm more beautiful than you are?" she asked.

"Y-Yes, I do Alexis." I admitted, in a faint and defeated whisper.

She continued to make me look right into her captivating eyes.

"So, I am prettier than you. I am smarter. I am a stronger woman and a far better leader than you, aren't I?" she asked.

My throat was dry. I could hardly utter a syllable. Yet, somehow I was able to a response.

"Yes." I answered in my softest whisper yet.

Alexis Barron simply smiled. An almost evil grin began tracing her magnificent lips.

It was as if she was trying to humiliate and intimidate me by making me to admit everything she was saying. When I finally did, she appeared content with my defeat and released my face from her gentle, yet firm grip.

Yes, I truly felt defeated.

I felt scared and threatened. My reddened face from my embarrassment and the slaps from the black teenaged woman had to be obvious to her.

At this time, my thoughts of getting up and running away from her simply faded. I was unable to summon up enough courage to leave the chair she had put me in as I sat there wondering what could possibly come next.

The young black woman then leaned back into her own chair and scooted it forward, again. She reached down to her right and locked the rolling chair in place so it wouldn't move. The seat of her chair was now pressed against the seat of my chair, leaving no room whatsoever for her legs.

You couldn't have put a sheet of paper between the seats of our chairs now. Her legs had returned to the desk top, and her heeled feet remained relaxed and just off to my left arm.

I sat there and watched nervously as Alexis pulled out a manila folder and opened it. She lit a cigarette for herself, then scooted her backside sitting position to almost the edge of her seat, literally leaning way back and down into the chair to lounge comfortably.

I didn't know what to expect next.

All that I felt was shame and humiliation by the fact that this young black woman was treating me this way. She was so confident and in control of herself. She handled herself with such poise, and in the most aggressive way that I had ever seen before.

The confidence of a woman so young and beautiful was completely overwhelming to me. She was so petite and small, barely 4'11" tall and 95 lbs., yet she exhibited such incredible boldness and arrogance for someone her age. Her intelligence, alone, made me feel inferior to her.

It was like I could never be on the same level as she was, and I knew it.

Alexis Barron knew it too.

The young, black woman had sensed my weakness from the very moment we met. Now, she knew I was feeling beaten and defeated. She knew that I could no longer fight her.

Quietly, I sat still watching Alexis leaning far back into her chair with her feet up on the desk to my left. She acted as if she was some sort of imperial egyptian black goddess about to lay down the law to one of her weak servants.

I was completely awed by the manner in which she presented herself.

With complete and utter cockiness, arrogance and rudeness, Alexis kicked off her black pumps and boldly placed her left stockinged foot right upon the upper most part of the left side of my chest, just below my shoulder. Her left heel essentially rested below the edge of my collarbone and I could already smell the deep, pungeant scent of her stockinged foot.

The younger black woman proceded to swing her right foot over and crossed it over her left, which was now crossed at the ankles. This placed her right nylon-covered foot literally flush into my worried face. She cockily "fanned" her well-worn stockinged toes an inch before my face. Then, with true arrogance, she "cupped" the toes of her right foot directly over my nose while she settled into her large chair.

It was such an unbelievably arrogant thing to do to me.

The stockings Alexis Barron was wearing that day were so well worn, as if she had purposely worn them for days on end. They were a coffee-tone brown shade and had these unusually enormous darker reinforcements right across the toes of them. Her pantyhosed feet were reminiscent of the stockings many women wore in the late 1950's.

I simply could not believe the arrogance of this black teenager.

My fear and humiliation kept me anchored there with little more than a meager gasp as the young black woman firmly pressed her nyloned toes to my face.

My arms remained down on the arms of my own chair, submissively. I just didn't know what to think or do at the time as the teenager continued degading me.

The firmness of Alexis' nylon-stockinged foot eased up as she looked directly into my eyes, her size 5 foot remaining in full contact with my face at all times. I'm sure that the view of me from her perspective amused her as she could only see my eyes peering over the very tips of the stockinged toes of her right foot.

She barely smiled in an uncaring way before she began to speak again.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, meanly and sarcastically.

I wasn't sure how to respond. I simply nodded a "no" out of complete fear.

Alexis had a noticeably evil smile.

"Good. Then, we shall continue." she said.

Cockily, she started wriggling and wiggling her silky and pungeant toes on my face while she perused the items in her folder.

"I made some changes." she told me.

And, there were so many changes!

The first thing Alexis changed was the design of the perfume bottles. These designs and names were ones we had been selling for years.

She added a miniature red kitten's collar to each of the bottles, which she told me would be the new symbol for my company. She flashed a few drawings to me from her sitting position.

There had to be 15 drawings, all with different bottle designs that had a miniature red leather kitten's collar around the necks of the bottles.

They were impressive designs.

"That's one of the reasons why everyone was wearing a red cat's collar around their necks when you walked in." she said. "And, they will continue to." she added.

"Essentially, it's our new moniker." she explained.

The drawings she made were so different from the old-fashioned styles my late husband had designed many years before. I could hardly believe the changes.

Sitting there and listening to the young Alexis was demeaning. She casually and nonchalantly "writhed" and "smeared" the reinforced toes of her nyloned foot over my face an nose without a care in the world.

She was almost ignoring me and any opinion I might have as she looked over the remaining items in the folder.

"I also changed the names of the perfumes and most of the marketing strategies." she said.

Alexis went on to explain that the 6 existing perfumes would be changed by adding another component of pheromone. They will have more progressive and youthful names, and they would be marketed exclusively to african-american women and other women of color.

I almost could not believe my ears?!

One thing that I never envisioned was that a perfume could be actually designed for a specific race of people.

"How is that possible?" I asked myself.

Alexis looked at me and saw that look of disbelief in my eyes.

"You don't approve?" she asked.

With the young black woman's stockinged foot practically planted in my face, it was impossible to say a word.

"Well, I have these contracts that tell me otherwise." she said, holding up a group of papers.

Alexis continued to explain.

Not only had she acquired a new customer for 150,000 dollars of business each month, but she also had 4 additional new smaller customers combining for that same amount. In addition, she had spoken to a half dozen of our former customers about the idea and they were all interested.

"Some of your old customers want to see my presentations in a few weeks, which I will have ready." Alexis explained.

It was shocking. I had been trying with those former customers for two full years!? Now, Alexis had scheduled meetings with them to review the new product lines later that month.

And, Alexis had already set up the development for 9 additional perfumes!

"Product development for the new perfumes will begin next week. It will take a few months but I already have the names and bottle designs." she continued.

"Oh, and that first contract you signed. Remember that?" she asked me.

My face was red and I felt nearly suffocated by the strong and demoralizing scent of her nylon stockinged foot, which was arrogantly planted over my nose and face. I simply nodded a "yes" and had this look of confusion in my eyes.

"Well ..." she began, "... and, I'm sure you won't mind since I deserve it ... but, I made sure that contract compensated me the way it should." she told me.

"W-What do you m'mean, Alexis?" I asked, my voice muffled by her size 5 foot on my face.

The young black woman simply turned to the last page of that contract, then turned it to face me, bringing it closer to me by extending her arm. Alexis didn't move her sitting position to show it to me.

It was now a mere few feet before my eyes but I could still read it clearly.

The last paragraph was now highlighted in a bright yellow color, making it easier to read. It wasn't that way when I hurriedly signed it before my trip to Oslo. As I read it, I was astounded and humiliated by the fact that I had missed that important paragraph.

There, right where the salesperson's commission was written into the contract was Alexis Barron's name and the commission she had written in.

Unbelieveably, where the standard commission for a sales rep was typically 1 percent, it was written in to show as "Alexis Barron, 11 percent."

"Oh my god?" I uttered under my breath. "Alexis, we can't afford that." I said in desperation.

She stopped my words instantly by pressing the ball of her right nylon-covered foot over my lips.

"Yes, we can!" she shouted.

"I made many other changes too." she snapped.

The amount this young, black woman was claiming for her commission was staggering. This 11 percent would give her a 16,500 dollar salary each month, or a 198,000 dollar annual salary!

"B-But, the others Alexis ... I-I c-can't ..." I pleaded.

Once again, Alexis Barron interupted me.

"It's already done." she said, authoritatively.

"The others' salaries have already been adjusted, as has yours. They have all signed compensatory agreements for the next two years, and you will be doing the same." she told me.

I was absolutely motified.

There was no chance this could have happened. She didn't have the authority to do any of the things she was doing, and had done. There was no chance that I was going to let this young black woman get away with this!