Black Alexis Dominates White Ch. 12

"Ack!" she snapped. "Take this shit outta here. And, it's too damn hot!" she scolded.

I just stood there looking at the beautiful girl in defeat. My face beamed red as she held the cup by the handle and extended her arm towards me.

"Here. Take it already!" she ordered.

"Make a fresh cup." Alexis demanded.

My eyes fell to the floor. Meekly, I grabbed the small cup from her dainty hand. Her disapproving tone and stern directive caused my stomach to knot, uncomfortably.

It was embarrassing for me to realize that she was demanding a fresher cup of coffee when she had this one right before her. That is when I looked into the cup and noticed the cream had not fully settled when I heated it up in the microwave.

"I-I'm s-sorry. I d-didn't mean t-t-to." I apologized, stuttering nervously.

The black teenager simply "shoo'ed" me away, waving me off with the backs of her fingers in the most arrogant manner.

Rather then speak up again, I simply began my journey back down to the kitchen to prepare a fresh cup. Alexis wanted a fresh cup of the African Coffee from the single cup brewer, and my feelings of ineptitude increased to the point I could not form a proper response.

As the coffee machine brewed a fresh cup I stood there in the kitchen in complete shame.

My mind wandered and the fear of this dominant teen woman being dissatisfied enveloped me. By now, I had already learned how she could be when she was angered or disturbed in any way. At this time, all I could think about was young Alexis' anger, and that is when the sound of the coffee brewer finishing snapped me back to attention.

Unthinkingly and flustered, I grabbed the cup and placed it onto the saucer before scurrying back up the stairs. My hands trembled as I handed it to Alexis, once again. I stood there resigned, and in anguish. She peered into the cup and looked at the darker coffee inside. Another disapproving look traced her incredibly youthful face and perfectly painted lips.

"There's no cream in it." she reprimanded.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked into the young black woman's eyes. Stupidly, I had forgotten the single teaspoon of cream she had always demanded. I felt myself apologizing.

"I-I'm so sorry." I whispered, afraid of her next words.

I reached over to take the cup and saucer from her youthful hands when she stopped me.

"No, dumb-dumb. Just bring the cream to me." she commanded.

The sharp-minded 18-year-old black woman made me feel so insignificant and feeble minded. My face had to appear so flustered from the embarrassment that I was feeling at this time, as I turned to make my way down the stairs again.

Frantically, I ran downstairs and grabbed the small pint carton of cream from the refrigerator. I rushed back up the stairs to the bedroom and held the cream in my hands. I stood before her quietly, patiently and submissively as she sat back reviewing that sheet of paper. One interminable minute later, she looked up to me.

"Do you have a spoon?" she asked, sarcastically.

My shoulders slumped even lower than they were as I realized my absent-minded mistake. I looked down at the pint of cream in my hands and then back to Alexis Barron. I could not make eye contact with her. She sat there commandingly, yet quietly as I could feel her eyes upon me questioning my thoughtlessness. My lips were unable to move and I could not speak.

Once again, I turned in defeat and headed back downstairs to the kitchen. This time to retrieve a teaspoon. I felt so ridiculous and my pace became much slower as I labored back up the stairs for what seemed like the tenth time.

Finally, I arrived back at the bedroom where Alexis Barron was sitting. She was still looking at the sheet of paper in her hand and simply extended her other hand with the cup and saucer towards me. My hands shook nervously as I poured the cream onto the teaspoon, then into her cup of dark coffee. I used the spoon to stir the hot liquid, listening to the clinking sound of the spoon tapping against the walls of the cup.

My mind was completely obliterated. Lost in the thought of my humiliation, I simply stared into the small cup as I continued to stir it slowly. Mesmorised, my mind seemed to drift as I watched the cream mixing with the darker coffee. I had lost all track of time.

I must have been stirring the coffee and cream together for minutes when I finally caught myself. The energy in the room has suddenly changed, and when I removed my eyes from the cup it was Alexis that was staring at me again.

Timidly, I glanced into her eyes and my hand stopped stirring. A faint "clinking" sound of the spoon still inside the cup from my trembling hands was amplified in the quiet room. Her stern, beautiful face showed just a hint of amusement as my eyes suddenly collapsed to the ground.

"Set it down over there." the young woman directed, handing it back to me. She motioned to the small table next to the bed.

Obediently, I did as I was told.

My mind was a blur when I completed this task. I looked back towards the young black woman with a beet red face. There was an uncomfortable silence that lasted for nearly a minute when she eventually spoke again.

"I need a cigarette. Go and get me one." Alexis ordered, again waving me off with the back of her streamlined mocha brown fingers.

The arrogant gesture turned my whole body to gelatin. Embarrassed beyond words, I could hardly fathom the strength from my weakened body to answer her. Somehow, despite the intimidation that overwhelmed me, I managed.

"Y-Yes, M-Ma'am." I replied, in the faintest whisper.

Again, I found myself walking down the stairs and obediently following one the black girl's orders. This time I moved much slower as I headed towards the livingroom where she had placed her pack of black clove cigarettes. My mind was completely scattered and my anxiety increased as I desperately tried to decide if Alexis wanted the full pack of cigarettes, or just one of them.

"Hurry on up." she yelled from the upstairs bedroom.

Her youthful and commanding voice caused my heart to stir faster as I frantically grasped one of the dark cigarettes. I left the rest of the pack on the glass table. Terrified, I rushed towards the stairwell. My feet in those 5 inched heels were beginning the throb already. By the time I made my way back to her my breathing had become much heavier.

Obediently, I handed the single clove cigarette to Alexis and stood before her. She accepted it and now held it between her two fingers. The young black woman simply peered back up to me with a disgusted look upon her beautiful face.

"What am I going to light it with, your big fat red nose?" she questioned acrimoniously.

My knees literally "buckled" when I heard her speak. Her words and sarcastic tone drawing attention to, and acknowledging my physical appearance of the reddened nose she caused. It was the young, black girl's fierce grinding of her pantied pussy all over my face last night that caused my nose to be so swollen. Now, she was mocking it.

"Huh?" she asked, with added sarcasm.

"Na-Na-No, Ma'am." I answered, timidly.

Defeatedly, I turned and headed back down to the livingroom to fetch the lighter. My body felt limp and weakened as I clumsily struggled to maneuver in the 5 inch stilletto heels. The leather strap around my ankles caused even more discomfort.

I found the lighter resting on one of the sofa cushions and desparately grabbed it. Awkwardly, I tripped as I turned on my heels too fast. I fell to my knees as the small lighter popped out of my weak grip and fell to the hardwood floor.

In my mind only did I feel like I was taking too long to retrieve the lighter. Flustered by the length of time I was taking, I reached for it in desparation and grabbed it. Then, I scurried back up the stairs to Alexis Barron. My face was flush by the time I reached the bedroom. I found myself standing before her, once again.

Meekly, I extended my arm to hand her the lighter. The young black woman had just placed the black cigarette between her fully painted wet red lips as she looked up to me.

"Well, light it already." she ordered, simply, staring into my defeated blue eyes.

With the dark papered cigarette held between her lips only now, and without use of her hands, young Alexis sat there waiting for me to light the cigarette. I bent down to one knee and held the lighter out towards her with both of my hands, which were trembling nervously.

I rarely used a lighter in my life before this time. I was unsure of the proper way to ignite it. Despite my tall and seemingly athletic frame, I was not very strong at all. My hands were weak, and my long fingers even weaker as I struggled to get the lighter to ignite.

Once, twice, thrice and the lighter merely sparked but did not work. My hands shook, terribly, as I made a fourth and fifth attempt. I tried to grip the small lighter in a different way and made a six, seventh and eighth attempt. Still, it was not igniting.

My face turned a deeper shade of crimson. I could feel myself beginning to perspire as my weakened hands held the lighter out before Alexis. My eyes tried focusing on this simple task and I kept trying again, and again. A ninth, tenth and eleventh attempt were also unsuccessful.

The 18-year-old black girl's expression suddenly changed. And, it changed dramatically. She removed the cigarette from her lips and now held it between her index and middle fingers, still at the same level as her mouth. She looked at me in near disbelief and disgust as I continued my futile attempts to get the lighter started.

The young woman had this look of discontent on her gorgeous young face, almost as if to say "are you kidding?" Her face seemed to express a thought of how pathetic I must be.

Alexis simply stared at me during this entire event.

Worriedly, I kept trying and it must have taken at least another dozen attempts before the lighter finally lit. My thumb was very sore by now and my embarrased face was mildly relieved when the small flame burned between us.

I desperately struggled handling this simplistic task. I felt panicked to keep my hands steady and my thumb on the button to keep the fire going. As I extended my long arms outward to young Alexis to light her cigarette, my hands began to shake even more. They continued to shake as I unsuccessfully labored to steady the flame.

The slightly frantic motion of the flame caused the young black woman to place her left hand onto my wrists, where she locked them in place. She bent forward to accept the small flame to her clove cigarette. Mercifully, it was lit.

With arrogance, Alexis blew that first puff of her clove cigarette smoke right back into my face. I coughed twice as she released my weakened wrists, and the now hot lighter dropped from my hands to the floor.

Alexis Barron simply sat back into the chair and glared in my direction. Once again, my eyes lowered in shame. My failure to complete such a minor task was humiliating. I almost felt as if I had let her down as she sat back imperiously smoking her unusual cigarette. Her presence was so overpowering to me at that particular moment.

My face continued blushing as I remained on one knee before her, embarrassed. The mere 30 seconds of silence was deafening.

"You did remember to bring the ashtray, didn't you?" she finally asked, using a rather condescending tine.

My heart seemed to stop for a moment as my eyes slowly and reluctantly moved up to meet hers. My mind raced as I realized that I had forgotten the small ceramic ashtray on the coffee table downstairs. I felt as if I would collapse from the humiliation I was feeling.

To me, it felt like the young black woman had me laboring up and down the stairwell all morning. I felt foolish and embarrassed by the number of times she had me running up and down the stairs to fetch her things. In the most defeated manner, I sunk my head and shoulders lower as I made my way down to the livingroom in silence.

Obediently, I returned to the bedroom and handed the ashtray to Alexis. I was both mentally and physically exhausted, and I simply fell to the floor on both knees before her. I was nearly in tears and praying that I wouldn't have to run back downstairs again.

It was at this time that young Alexis began reviewing the announcement she had written for me to read to my staff. The beautiful black teenaged woman read the words she had chosen for me from the single sheet of paper in her dainty hand. I literally cowered before her. The words she chose felt immensely degrading to me.

"I want to apologize for all my failures, my ineptitude and incompetence during these past two years." it began.

"I have made so many poor decisions and my poor performance as a Manager has been substandard." the announcement continued, on and on, and on again mentioning my failures and lack of ability.

"Since Miss Alexis Barron has arrived at our company a short time ago, she has shown such amazing ability." the speech read.

"We are so fortunate to have Miss Barron with us to show us the way, and to lead us all into a new era. One that will be successful and allow us to keep this company and our caeers alive." the announcement continued.

"It is Miss Barron who has been able to succeed where we have failed so miserably in the past, and for this we should all be grateful to her." it continued.

"She has shown such brilliance in product development and her keen insight into the market place has been inspirational."

"Because of this, and due to my incompetence, Miss Alexis Barron has been appointed to the position of President of this company. She will be in charge of operations and making all operational decisions from this point forward." it read.

"I will be assisting and supporting Miss Barron in this process in any way she deems necessary, and I have graciously accepted this new role as her assistant and subordinate so that we may become a better, more fruitful company for now and in the future." the speech concluded.

As I knelt there listening to the words she had chosen for me to read, I was about to collapse in shame. The realization that I would have to deliver such a demoralizing and defeating speech to my staff in less than 2 hours seemed overwhelming. In my mind, I battled with the thoughts of how I would be able to actually do this.

"How would my staff of 7 older white women in their 40's and 50's accept the fact that this 18-year-old black woman was now in charge?" I asked myself.

That is when I began thinking about what I had witnessed in the office upon my return from Oslo. I remembered thinking how Ginny, Beth, Meghan, Tiffany, Candace, Grace and Kate had all responded to her authority already.

At the time, it had been incomprehensible to me seeing how passive these seven older white women had become around this petite, teenaged black woman.

Then, I realized just how intimidated I felt around her. I knew that I felt humbled by her and the manner in which she had been using me since my return truly embarrassed and degraded me. Her beauty, intelligence and inner strength pacified me like no other person had before.

Meekly, I looked back up into Alexis' piercing light brown eyes. They seemed to glow.

"Any issues?" she asked, sternly.

"N-No, Ma'am." I softly answered, in defeat.

"Good! I think it's perfect too." she said, proudly.

As the young black woman perused the announcement one last time in silence, a sinister smile traced her perfectly-shaped red lips. Suddenly, she stopped and looked back to me.

"Gretchen! Get my outfit ready and lay it out for me on the bed." she ordered.

I paused for just a moment thinking about what her outfit would be. Then, I was not sure what Alexis was referring to. She interupted my thought immediately as I knelt there in silence.

"My newest black skirt, black belt, white nylon blouse, the new black Manolo pumps I got from Sarah's shop." Alexis directed.

"Oh, and get my bag of stockings over here too." she added.

"O-Okay." I whispered, picking myself up from the floor.

Many of my thoughts were still on the announcement I would have to make that day as I gathered the items of the young black woman's outfit. Robotically, I put them together on the bed and moved to the chest of drawers. I pulled out the large ziploc bag of stockings curiously marked with the word "worn" in a black felt pen, and I placed it upon the bed.

"The coffee-mocha tones ones. The pantyhose today." She directed, as she stood at the bathroom door buttoning her expensive silky-looking white nylon blouse.

Alexis had a small white hand towel in the crook of her left arm as she buttoned her blouse.

When I opened the huge plastic bag, I was greeted with the overwhelming and pungeant aroma of her extremely well worn nylons. The stronger scent completely caught me off guard as I carelessly dropped the bag before the bed.

I had the get to one knee to retreive it, and I remained there on the floor as I began sifting through the bag searching for the one single pair of pantyhose Alexis decided upon. I soon postioned myself to sit on the backs of my legs as I continued my task.

It was at this time when I began to understand why some of my staff had complained about the smell of young Alexis' feet when she first began working with us. The strong scent of her nyloned feet was so embarrassingly obvious to me now.

At this time, young Alexis walked over to the edge of the bed and sat right before me. She continued holding onto the small, white hand towel and seemed to be wiping her hands on it.

"Look at me for a second." she suddenly directed.

Curiously, I looked slightly upward to Alexis and directly into her eyes. My heart began to beat faster while I remained in this kneeling position, sitting on the backs of my legs. Her cute, yet stern voice and mere presence continued to intimidate me to no end.

"Yeah, I was right. Too much makeup. Waaayyy too much." she exclaimed.

Instinctively, my eyes began to shy away from hers. Her natural dominance felt overpowering. That is when the black girl placed her left hand onto the very bottom of my chin and leaned in closer. Gracefully, she held my face with her one hand and angled it back and forth, and then towards hers. My eyes were barely opened in shame as she studied my face.

With utmost arrogance, the young black woman began patting my face with the little hand towel. She started wiping off the very light coat of makeup I had applied earlier, and was now "dabbing" the end of the towel on her tongue to moisten it.

"Yeah, too much. You certainly don't want to look like some old whore ya' know." she said.

Disgraced, I remained kneeling with my arms down to my sides as the young black woman continued to wet the towel with the saliva from her tongue, then using it to wipe the excess makeup from my face.

She held my flustered face like a mother would hold a child's when cleaning off a messy chocolate ice cream cone from their face.

This action was completely embarrassing to me as Alexis then patted my face dry.

"There. That's better. Much better. You don't need all that." she insulted.

"Do you have my stockings yet?" she asked, suddenly changing the subject as she released my chin.

Suddenly, I was snapped back into the task I was working on. I had lost my train of thought and meekly glanced down at the bag of stockings.

There were only a few packages of new, unopened stockings and they looked foreign. When I looked closer, I realized they were from England.

The other dozen pairs were a combination of pantyhose and garter stockings. Most of them were a smooth, richer mocha-brown shade with an absolutely enormous darker shaded reinforced toe style.