Black Alexis Dominates White Ch. 04

It was nearly midnight.

At this point, I had been sitting in this chair besides the young black woman for hours. Alexis Barron's size 5 nylon stockinged feet remained propped up onto my upper chest, crossed at the ankles, and with such arrogance. Her silk covered toes remained in contact with my nose at all times. Her arrogance was inconceivable to me and, partly out of my fear of her, I had no willingness or backbone to resist.

The 18 year old black woman was so beautiful. It was difficult for me to comprehend how someone so young, petite and beautiful could have such boldness and business saavy. She continued discussing the numbers of my business and her "plan" to bring the company back to profitability. She refused to removed her nylon covered feet from its' resting place upon my upper chest.

Occasaionally, Alexis would switch the position of her feet from being crossed over at the ankles from her right foot to her left foot, but the foot crossed over on top of the other was always the one that was, quite literally, in my face.

Alexis discussed the salaries.

The 7 older white female staff, who once carried the title of "Business Coordinators" with an annual salary of 52,000 to 55,000 dollars, had changed. Now, they were all "Clerical Assistants" with an annual salary of 37,500 dollars.

It was unfathomable to think how this young, beautiful black girl had the entire all white female office staff intimidated, and how she had them agreeing to such a dramatic cut in pay. All this while hers had been increased to such a high level. In my mind, I wondered if they even knew anything about Alexis Barron's sinister and nearly forged commission agreement.

It will be hard for anyone to comprehend that Alexis Barron was contining to make her 400 dollar a week salary plus the 11 percent monthly commission from that first contract. This put her combined salary at an unimagineable 218,800 dollars annually. But, that is exactly what it was now.

I sat there quietly, timidly and in awe as I listened to Alexis Barron's new plan. Her stockinged toes continued to "wriggle" and "smear" across my reddened face and nose in the most obtrusive, yet nonchalant way. She was coolly unconcerned about my suffering and degradation.

"Do you agree that people should be compensated by their ability and accomplishments?" she asked, rather sarcastically.

"Y-Yes, Alexis. Yes, M-Ma'am." I answered.

"And, would you agree that you have absolutely no ability at all?" she asked.

The young, black woman looked straight into my eyes and waited for an answer. She was extremely cool, calm and patient as I sat there speechless and thinking about her latest and most demoralizing comment. Alexis reached over to her desk top and pulled out another long, thin Virginia Slims cigarette. Patiently, she lit it and returned her eyes to me as she blew a long, smooth stream of smoke from her polished red lips.

"Yes, Ma'am." I answered quietly.

Alexis went on to tell me that my responsibility as the owner should be just that, as an owner, and nothing more. She explained that my role as President of my own company was a complete and utter disgrace. She also stated that it was a complete waste of time and effort, and that my incompetence and futility in trying to run things was actually hurting the potential of this company.

"It's obvious." she stated. "But, that doesn't mean you can not be useful." she concluded.

There was nothing she had just told me that wasn't the truth. I knew it.

I knew that she was right about my failures, and I felt embarrassed by someone so young stating what I had always known. Deep down, I knew that Alexis Barron was accurate in her assessment of me. Yet, it was the manner in which she stated the obvious that made this event so much more humiliating for me.

Still, I wasn't exactly clear of what she appeared to be suggesting. Aside from stepping down from my role of actually running the company, there was something else she had in mind.

Alexis Barron made me admit to her that she was the one responsible for saving the future of my company. She also made me admit that, without her, this company was heading for financial ruin. She even made me admit that only a black woman would be able to sustain and then grow this company in the most successful way. Hesitantly, I admitted to all the comments she set before me.

Then, she came right to the point.

Alexis Barron firmly suggested that she become the company's "Acting President" while I take, what she described, an "alternate role." She explained this would give her the credibility with both current and future customers, as well as the buying power with other entities she had been strategizing with since I was gone.

The young black woman's face was beautiful, yet stern. Her eyes were serious and intimidating. She knew that she was responsible for acquiring over 300,000 dollars in gross sales monthly. She knew that she was responsible for all our new business, and now she wanted the title to go along with her accomplishments. I didn't know how to take these comments, nor did I know how to react to such a sudden change.

"How would my staff react to all this even if I agreed to this change?" I thought.

"Would they just quit and leave me to fend for myself?" I asked myself.

"Would I have to start interviewing for more clerical assistants?" I wondered.

"How could I possibly handle the utter degradation of this change?" I questioned.

I didn't expect Alexis to already have an employment contract written out for herself. But, there it was. Now, she was holding it in her right hand.

Alexis had the contract placed onto a white lacquered clipboard. She simply handed it to me as I remained in this sitting position, her nyloned toes rudely cupped around my nose. I took the clipboard from her grasp and began to read through it. The short, five page contract was intimidating to read through as she flipped open her cell phone to make a call.

It was uncomfortable sitting in this position and trying to read through the contract with the 18 year old black girl's nylon stockinged foot literally "planted" in my face, like it was. Alexis was simply relaxed, her legs stretched out and her feet resting upon me in the most casual and arrogant of ways while she began talking to the caller.

"Hey, girl! What's up?" she began.

Those are the only words I heard for awhile. I was completely tuned out to her conversation as I began reading deeper into the employment contract. The contract was rather standard, giving Alexis Barron the title of Acting President with the authority to make all business and personnel decisions. I would remain the owner, approving any financial transaction above 250,000 dollars, and taking an "alternate role" as her assistant with an annual salary of 37,501 dollars, which was merely one dollar more than the clerical assistants.

As I read through the particulars of the contract, I didn't see anything unusual about it with the exception of the salary changes. Yet, I was deeply demoralized to see that she was suggesting my role as her "assistant" with such a low annual salary.

"How would I pay all my bills?" I asked myself.

I wondered how could I possibly agree to this? I felt so pressured and intimidated by this young woman that I couldn't even begin to explain my own feelings at the time. Inside, though, it was as if I was removing a tremendous weight off my shoulders, too. I certainly needed that. On the other hand, how could I even employ such a dominant and arrogant young woman to make these important business decisions for my company?

"She was barely 18 years old!" I thought.

But, there was something very different about Alexis Barron. She truly humbled me. Her business accomplishments had been absolutely incredible up to this point, and she was quite determined to succeed. Her youthful beauty and appearance were a complete contradiction to her fierce and unrelenting business style.

When I finished reading through the contract and saw the blank signature lines at the bottom of the last page, I simply set the clipboard down onto the carpeted floor to my right side.

I was exhausted and demoralized, and I looked towards the young black woman, who was ignoring me. She continued to speak casually to her friend on the other end of the cell phone she held.

The nylon covered toes of her left foot were now actively swirling and twirling about my face and nose as if she were uncaringly itching and massaging them on some sort of inanimate object. The scent of her well worn nyloned feet were almost overbearing, yet intoxicating to the point that my mind was beginning to wander. I began feeling so dizzy and incoherent, and that is when I unconsciously fell into sleep.

It had to be shortly past midnight when I drifted off with Alexis' stockinged feet set upon me, and using my flustered face as some type of massage tool. It was demoralizing. My exhaustion from the long trip and the humiliation that I was feeling was overwhelming to the point that I could no longer stay awake. I was passed out in this leaned back sitting position until the time that I was finally awakened, hours later.

It was even more demoralizing to wake up "at" the young black woman's feet in this position. I was awakened by the tapping of young Alexis' nylon covered toes across my cheek.

"You finally awake?" she asked, sternly.

"Huh?" she added, tapping a second and third time.

My eyes opened to see Alexis in a half awakened state, herself. Her right foot pressed over my nose in a childishly arrogant manner. Apparently, she had spent quite awhile talking to her friend on the phone before falling asleep, herself.

The entire time, her feet remained authoritatively propped up onto me. Her half shut eyes gleamed, knowingly, and she stretched her legs further out for her early morning stretch, adding to the pressure of her foot on my face.

I just sat there with the realization that all I had been through yesterday was not a bad dream. It was really happening. As Alexis Barron's eyes grew more alert, she removed her feet from my upper chest and tossed her black stilletto pumps to my lap.

"Put those on for me. We should go." she directed.

Haplessly, I did as I was ordered. I glanced over to the clock on my office wall to see that it was 8:20 a.m. I had been asleep for almost 8 hours and my mind was still foggy as I placed the size 5 heels upon Alexis Barron's feet. I didn't have the faintest idea of where we were going at the time. I only knew that I was feeling so defeated that I wanted to get home quickly and pass out, again.

For a moment, it was as if I was finally being released from an uncomfortable prison of humiliation. The young black woman directed me to grab the contract, folders and binders. Then, she handed me her purse.

"We still have more to go through later." she said.

I simply nodded, defeatedly.

The 18 year old black woman directed me to my car in the parking lot. It was Saturday morning, and the sun was quite bright. Alexis stopped for a moment to grab a pair of Gucci sunglasses from her purse, which I carried. She placed them onto her beautiful face as we reached my parked BMW. It was then that I was made aware that Alexis did not have a car of her own. She made mention of this fact as she complimented the appearance of my metallic blue automobile.

When I sat down in my car and turned on the ignition, my thoughts were that I would be taking Alexis to her place. However, this was not the case.

"Where am I driving you to, Miss?" I asked.

She smiled, amused. "Your place, of course. We still have a lot to talk about I told you. And, I'm still tired and a little hungry." she said.

My eyes must have widened to the size of streetlights. I felt a nervousness come over me like I had never felt before. It seemed as if this was becoming more than just business, and I had no clue how to react to it.

Now, this young black woman was inviting herself into my personal life and my personal space. It was an overwhelming feeling that was foreign to me, and although I felt nervous and scared, I found it impossible to contest her.

"Y-Yes, Ma'am." I replied, cautiously.

The entire drive to my home was an uncomfortable one. I remained nervous as the young black woman remained quiet, ignoring me and returning several text messages on her phone. I found it nearly impossible to concentrate on the road.

Finally, we arrived 40 minutes later. It was just past 9:00 a.m. when I pulled into my circular driveway and drove up to the walkway of the front door.

I could see Alexis' dry cleaning hanging from the high planter hooks to the sides of the front door to my house. As instructed, one of the other older white women had picked up her clothes and delivered them here. We walked to the front door, my arms filled with the binder, folders and Alexis' purse while she walked hands free towards the house. Her confidence was apparent.

"Grab those, will you?" she ordered, referring to the dozen articles of dry cleaning on hangers.

I did as I was told and struggled to hold onto everything as I opened my front door. It took me a couple attempts to key the door as the young, petite black woman stood there patiently. And, when I slowly pushed the large chestnut front door open I noticed 3 boxes sitting there in the foyer with the initials A.B. on them.

These boxes belonged to Alex Barron.

Confused, I looked at the 18 year old black woman. My facial expression must have been blatantly obvious as I wondered what they were doing there. She simply strutted into my home like she owned it.

"Don't worry. I'm only staying for a short while until I find a new place." she said.

"The place I was in is a real dump." she said.

"Besides, I took some of the money and paid for all your taxes and bills upfront for the year." she added.

I didn't know how to respond.

The arrogance of this young woman was tremendously intimidating to me. I watched in amazement as Alexis kicked off her shoes and made her way to the largest sofa in my living room. She sat there and began removing her black skirt and coffee-tone pantyhose stockings. The young, black woman then removed her white blouse and tossed it onto the arm of the sofa with the rest of her outfit.

"This is a nice place 'ya got here." she said, standing.

I was still in the foyer setting down all the items I had just carried in, and placing her dry cleaning onto the door handle of the outer most closet as young Alexis began to slowly circel the living room.

My eyes were amazed by her beauty and my throat was tightened by the incredible confidence this young black woman exhibited. She seemed to exude such power and inner strength, and I was even more in awe of her now.

Alexis Barron now strutted around my home barefoot in merely a white nyloned bra and a matching pair of the flimsiest nylon bikini panties I had ever seen. They were the skimpiest non-thong styled panties that one could imagine.

Truly, she was acting as if she owned my place. "I'm a little hungry. You do cook, don't you?" she asked, rather sarcastically.

Still taken back by her overwhelming boldness, I hesitated.

"Y-Yes, M-Ma'am, I do." I stuttered. "B-But, I've been gone and I don't have anything fresh in the ..." I attempted to explain.

The 18 year old black girl interrupted.

"Don't worry about that! I had Beth restock the frige while you were away. I hope you don't mind?" she said, facetiously.

My mind wandered for a moment. I was curious and confused how Alexis had gotten into my home and done all this during the 10 days I was away. Then, I remembered that I had always left Beth an extra key to my house in case there was an emergency. The thought of how she must have gotten to Beth weakened me. I just stood there, worried and motionless.

"Please, Alexis. P-Please?" I pleaded.

The petite, 4'11" tall and 95 lb. black teenager had this look of supreme and child like dominance on her young looking face. Her eyes seem to lighten up after hearing me plead like that, then she began walking towards me.

Even in my 4 inch heels and being 6'1" inches tall, I could hardly believe how nervous and frightened I was as Alexis approached. She had her hands on her pantied hips, cockily, as she began to circle me. I stood there, timidly, as she continued to walk around me before she finally stopped in front of me. Casually, she reached up to me and put her right hand to my cheeks gently and firmly squeezing them.

"Please what?!" she asked.

I could not respond. My fear of gettng another slap across my face from her kept me quiet. I was afraid to answer. Alexis Barron then released my face from her soft grip. She turned and began to slowly and methodically walk away from me.

She took only a few steps away and her back remained facing me. From behind, the 18 year old black woman was equally as beautiful. But, it was the boldness and supreme and uncaring confidence she exuded that intimidated me the most. Even the manner in which she wore her small, white nylon panties seem to have an effect on me.

They were the smallest and tiniest full-cut back panties I had ever seen, and in the flimsiest white nylon material one could describe. They were a slight shade above a brazilian cut, and the young woman wore them extremely low on her hips, low enough to barely show the top of her petite, amazingly curved butt crack.

The flimsy material of her bikini panty seemed to almost swirl around her perfect, tear drop shaped ass cheeks in a blatantly careless manner. These little white panties were so flimsy that they carelessly slipped further down her hips and cheeks, centimeter by centimeter, with every bold and arrogant step she took. The wispy material billowed out ever so slightly frm between her femininely muscled cheeks.

"I would think that you'd be more appreciative of my efforts." Alexis stated.

"Y-Yes. Yes, Alexis I am. I really am." I quivered.

The young black woman continued strutting around my living room as I stood there, intimidated and frightened beyond imagination. Yet, I was also beginning to feel something else. I was beginning to get sexually aroused, too.

These feelings embarrassed me.

I would have never imagined feeling this way with another woman. And, now I was engulfed in feelings that were a combination of humiliation and excitement.

I think Alexis Barron always knew this.

By the time she had taken a dozen short and confident strides around my living room, with her back towards me at all times, she stopped and turned back to me.

"I know that you like me, bitch." she said.

"Wh-What?" I replied, embarrassed and in denial.

Alexis Barron smiled, almost evilly.

"I am everything that you have always admired. And, I am everything that you have always dreamed of, aren't I?" she asked.

I paused.

"Isn't that right, bitch?" she asked, a sinister look now tracing her flawless face.

I was standing there, my knees weakened by her comments, and my face began to turn red.

"W-What do you m-mean?" I asked, acting surprised.

"I d-don't." I denied.

The 18 year old's beautiful and stern face looked right through me as if I were made of rice paper. My embarrassment had to be so transparent to this young, black woman. I was caught between my admiration and attraction to her and the humiliation that I felt. These were feelings that she was causing.

"Come here!" she demanded, simply.

My knees were almost buckled in place. They felt heavier than they had ever felt before. Yet, somehow I managed to begin to step towards her in the slowest and most tentative way. She was about 30 feet away from me and it occurred to me that this young woman was actually making me come to her, and doing so purposely.