Black Alexis Dominates White Ch. 06

With one swift and calloused movement, she moved her right foot to the left side of my face and then firmly pressed it against my sweat-drenched cheek. She kept it there pressed with incredible firmness, her toes and the ball of her right foot now planted onto the side of my face with authority. That is when the waitress arrived.

"Hi, I'm Terry, your waitress. Here are your drinks and ..." she began saying before she could grasp what she was witnessing.

Her words were stopped dead in their tracks by the blatantly obvious sight on the young black woman's foot pressed onto the side of my face.

Terry was a 37-year-old white woman who stood about 5'6" tall. She had blonde hair and an absolutely beautiful and busty figure. She was the epitome of the southern-belle type, demure and well maintained. Her slight southern accent seemed disrupted by what she was seeing and her pretty pale face was immediately turned into a deep, crimson red while her bright eyes widened in shock.

"Is there something wrong?" Alexis asked.

Terry was speechless for a moment before finally remembering that she was there in a position as our waitress. Alexis' dirt-covered right foot remained so firmly pressed to my left cheek and she was not easing up with it, despite the presence of the waitress. Actually, she seemed to press her toes to my cheek harder now.

"N-No, M-Miss." Terry stammered.

The southern-belle waitress looked at me in awe, then turned back towards the young black woman before glancing back to me again. My face felt as if was turning as red as hers was, as she began to hand the menu to Alexis.

Alexis stopped her.

"I don't need a menu. I know what I want. Bring us a fruit plate to share." Alexis ordered.

The 37-year-old blonde waitress seemed panicked now. It was easy to tell that she was nearly speechless, and she felt uncomfortable and awed by the way the black teenager was treating me.

"Y-Yes, Miss. Okay, Miss. Right away, M-Miss." Terry stuttered.

As the southern-belle waitress left quickly to fill Alexis Barron's order, the young black woman kept her right foot almost flush onto the side of my face. She pressed even more firmly as she took one last drag of her cigarette and tossed it to the ground beside her chair. Finally, she removed her right foot from the side of my face and a breif, yet evil-like smile traced her lips. This look confused me as her face then became more stern and convincing.

Without hesitation, Alexis then placed her right foot onto my right shoulder in the same manner, crossed her left bare foot over it at the ankles. Firmly, she now began pressing her left foot onto the right side of my face. Her dirty left foot firmly planted onto the side of my face with even more authority than the other side. I could feel the pressure of her toes and the ball of her left foot pushing harder and harder as I sat there in unbelieveable shame. She continued on like this for at least another 5 minutes before finally releasing her left foot from my perspiring cheek. Immediately following this, she put her left foot to my forehead and pressed it so hard before pushing off on it ever so slightly, shoving my face away in such an arrogant gesture. She seemed amused by my lack of resistence and returned her feet to the original position she had them when we firt sat down.

I had no idea why the 18-year-old black woman was pressing my face with her feet at the time. She was treating me as if I was some sort of oversized raggedy ann doll, like she had done before. I was embarrassed and defeated. My humiliation prevented me from looking around to see if anyone had noticed any of the absolutely dominating exchange. I was afraid to know.

With Alexis' legs propped up onto my upper chest, I sat there in defeat. Her right foot crossed over the left foot at the ankles and the sole and toes of her filthy dirty right foot were an inch before my face now. She seemed impatient as she waited for her fruit plate to arrive, and she lit another cigarette.

The young black woman sat back even more comfortably, stretching her legs out with such authority. Her impatience was more apparent now. She seemed genuinely bored waiting for her order and began to arrogantly manipulate her dirt-coated toes onto my face, cupping my nose with them like a curved claw before swiping them back and forth over and over again. Playfully, yet arrogantly she began to tap and smear the tops and bottoms of her bare, dirty toes right onto my face, lips and chin. She avoided my cheeks completely and leaned back smoking ber cigarette as she started right through me.

It was this bold and uncalculating youthful arrogance that intimidated me to no end. The beautiful, black teenager casually and non chalantly put her feet in my face. She was relentless and I remained in awe of her, and in fear of upsetting her further.

Finally, the waitress arrived with the fruit plate and two cloth napkins.

Terry nearly dropped the order when she returned. I believe that she was in such shock that she could hardly believe what she was witnessing, and she almost fell over herself. I did not understand her reaction at the time. I only knew that she seemed embarrassed for me.

"Y-Your order, Miss." Terry whispered, as she set the order onto the table to the left side of Alexis.

"Thank you, Terry. Here take this." Alexis said, handing her the half-used cigarette she had started.

"Yes, M-Miss." Terry replied, taking the lit cigarette and holding it with her two fingers.

"And, get that other one off the ground too." Alexis ordered, referring to the cigarette butt she had displaced earlier.

"Yes, Miss. O-Okay." Terry answered, bending to one knee to pick up the young black woman's trash.

The 37-year-old southern-belle waitress quickly departed. She was genuinely flustered by the presence and the boldness of Alexis Barron. She seemed as embarrassed as I was.

I was embarrassed for her, in return.

Alexis moved the plate of fruit to her sitting position, placing the white cloth napkin onto her lap before setting it down. She made no effort to removed her bare foot from it's postion before my face. Rather, she made sure that the toes of her right foot remained on my nose at all times while she ate. The young black woman picked through the plate filled with slices of kiwi fruit, strawberries, mangos and various melons. She used her fork, but when she tried the green melon slice by placing it into her mouth, her face turned sour. She removed the partially chewed green melon from her mouth with her thin fingers.

"Yuck. This one's too tart." she said out loud.

"I don't like it." she said, in disgust.

It looked as if the young black woman was ready to disgard the sour green melon slice as she looked around for a place to toss it away. Then, she turned and looked right at me.

"Here. Try this." she said, leaning over with her feet now on the ground and placing it to my lips.

She began tracing my lips with the half-chewed green melon slice before putting it into my mouth. I resisted for just a moment but she then pushed it into my mouth with greater force.

"Just eat it." she directed, holding my chin with her now sticky thumb and fingers.

I began chewing it as Alexis returned to her sittng position, now crossing her left foot over the right at the ankles, and leaving her left bare foot pressed flush onto my face.

Tentatively, I chewed the sour melon slice as the 18-year-old black woman sat back relaxing and continued picking through the rest of the fruit on her plate. She continued smearing her dirty toes over my nose, lips and chin that was now a little sticky from the fruit. She did so with such arrogance as she ignored me and concentrated on her plate of food. For the next 10 minutes I felt so defeated and humiliated by this exaggerated gesture of providing me with one slice of disgarded fruit. It would be the only nourishment I would receive.

Alexis Barron then digarded the remainder of the fruit plate, setting it onto the table to her left. She sipped her glass of Caymus and switched her feet back to right over left, still crossed at the ankles and directly in my face. I noticed the young woman peering towards the waitress' station, which was barely positioned on the inside of the Le' Tour Cafe. She seemed intrigued by what she was observing at that moment, and I had no idea what had captured her attention.

Suddenly, I saw her waving someone over with her index finger. Her beautiful face was stern and obviously disturbed by what she had just seen. I sat there silently and confused, and in total humiliation as the young black woman waited for that person to come to her.

That person was our waitress, Terry.

"Yes, M-Miss? Did you need something, Miss?" she asked Alexis in a soft, demure tone of voice.

Alexis paused for a moment and looked into the older, white waitress' eyes.

"Is something bothering you?" she asked her.

Terry's face turned beet red. She was startled by being confronted by the young black woman.

"N-No, Miss. I-I ..." The flustered waitress tried to answer, timidly.

Alexis made the southern-belle waitress stand there in complete aguish for a moment as she looked her over. That moment seemed to last forever, and I could see that she was writhing in her own skin. Astonishingly, the young black woman grabbed her lighter from the table top and dropped it to the ground to the right side of her chair. The sound of her lighter hitting the concrete was very noticeable.

"Get that for me, will you?" she ordered.

Terry stood there for a few seconds and I could see her face turn flush.

"Yes, M-Miss. O-Okay." she answered, bending down to her right knee to fetch the fallen lighter.

The tall, blonde 37-year-old handed the lighter to Alexis Barron and returned to her standing position before us. She seemed genuinely embarrassed.

The 18-year-old black woman then repeated the discreet and humiliating scene. She purposely dropped her lighter to the concrete ground again, her feet remaining propped up and in my face with such unimagineable arrogance.

"Get that for me again." she directed.

The brief two second pause was deafening as I watched the older white woman comply.

"Y-Yes, Miss. Y-Yes, M-Ma'am." she replied, bending to one knee again to pick up the purposely dropped lighter. Once again, she handed it back to the young black woman and stood up.

Alexis Barron's face was as serious as the sea before a storm. She studied Terry's reaction and her noticeably embarrassed pretty face. The hesitation was longer this time, perhaps a minute as the blonde waitress stood there with now weakened knees.

With the petite black girl's feet in my face like they were, I could only see over the ends of her dirty toes. I watched in amazement as Alexis dropped her lighter to the ground, on purpose, for the third time.

"Again." she ordered.

For the third time, the older blonde waitress bent to one knee to gather the wayward lighter and handed it to the black woman. But, this time Alexis did not take it from her grip. She simply put a long, thin white cigarette to her polished lips and stared into Terry's eyes. She seem to give an unspoken command to the southern-belle to light it for her.

With humiliation, I watched as the white woman lit the cigarette for Alexis Barron. She remained on one knee on the concrete ground and continued to hold the black girl's lighter and Alexis exhaled that first drag from her cigarette.

Alexis stared right into her eyes and seemed to be ignoring my existence at the time. She then began speaking to Terry.

end. chapter six.