Black Alexis Dominates White Ch. 05

As I prepared breakfast for the 18-year-old black woman, a feeling of helplessness enveloped me. My face felt as if it had been beaten up by her fierce grinding of it, and her scent seemed to pervade my most acute senses. Degraded and humbled, I simply completed my task and served the sausage and eggs breakfast to Alexis Barron, who remained sitting on the largest sofa in my livingroom.

Alexis consumed only half of the the plate of food in a dainty manner, then washed it down with a small glass of apple juice that she had requested. It took merely minutes to satisfy her appetite and then she handed me the disgarded portion on the plate.

As I began cleaning the plate in the kitchen, I watched the young black woman stretch her lean and trim torso, her arms were moving above her head with a faint satisying moan.

"That was good. I can use a little cat nap now." she said.

"I'm sure you're a little tired too, bitch." she added.

I placed the dirty dish and glass into the empty sink and grew more nervous as I watched Alexis finally stand up and begin walking towards me. She had me on edge and I didn't know what to expect next. My hands remained down at my sides in a timid fashion and submissive position as she now stood before me.

The young black woman gently touched my face, once again. It was like she was examining my defeated and humiliated face with greater interest.

"Yes, you do look tired." she observed.

"Come on, let's go." she ordered, reaching up and now grabbing my left ear lobe in the most subtle and arrogant way one can imagine.

Alexis softly pinched my ear lobe with the thumb and index finger of her right hand with just enough pressure to guide me. She began slowly pulling me along by my ear towards the carpeted stairwell. I was humiliated by this sudden unexpected and malicious action.

At 6'1" tall, and still in my 4 inch high heels, I had to bend over, uncomfortably, as the smaller 4'11" tall black teenager literally "led me by the ear" through my very own house. She seemed to take her sweet time in doing so. It was almost as if she was purposely absorbing the moment while adding to my intense humiliation. She took no less than three minutes to walk me from the kitchen to the stairwell, and then to my bedroom upstairs. When she gently pulled me inside my room and finally let go of my ear, I was able to stand up straight. This is when I noticed the changes to my room.

I was in disbelief.

The young black woman had made so many changes to my bedroom. She added a vast array of african-american colors and artwork. The comforter on my king size bed was a multi-colored stripe design with african symbols on it. The paintings on the walls, both big and small, were also african designs and mostly classy images of young black women.

There were 8 small to mid sized porcelain sculptures and statuettes set around the room strategically, and carved in an ebony stone. They were pure silhouettes of african femininity.

My jaw must have dropped to some degree because Alexis Barron just smiled and gleemed at her work. She was pleased by the look of utter disbelief that appeared upon my face. The young black woman had changed my entire bedroom to her own preferences and style. I was degradingly shocked by her bold and brash attitude, which contunued to intimidate me to no end.

Curiously, the extremely large king sized bed only had pillows at the headboard on the left side as we faced it. The right side of the headboard had no pillows positioned there at all. A single, wayward head pillow sat at the foot of the bed, on that same left side. A a very long and narrow body pillow was positioned on a complete slanted angle from the corner of the upper right side to the lower left side, covering the length of more than three fourths of the bed.

For a moment, it did not occur to me that young Alexis had set up my own bed in a position where I would be resting my head on the pillow at her feet. When she said, "that's your side" and pointed to the right side of the bed it became blatantly apparent what her intentions and directions were. She had made a statement of authority that I would be sleeping "at" her feet.

This realization nearly caused me to collapse from the embarrassment and degradation I was feeling. I believe that I was more awed by her cockiness than anything else.

"Lay down." she ordered, softly.

After a moment's pause, I defeatedly put my taller body in a position on the bed and placed my head on the pillow at the foot of the bed on Alexis Barron's side. I stretched my long legs outward to the upper corner of the right hand side of it. The long and narrow body pillow set on that extreme angle seemed to guide me into this position. I was weakened by the boldness and pure arrogance of this beautiful and powerful black woman. I felt helpless by her allure.

Moments later, Alexis had layed down on her right side and positioned her bare feet to my face. The toes of her right foot were pressed directly against my tightened lips and the instep on her left foot was planted onto the side of my neck as I faced her from beneath. She closed her eyes and fell asleep fast with her feet in my face. I felt completely anchored there by this young woman's firm and authoritative actions. She humbled me in a way that I still find difficult to fully and accurately describe, in words.

I found it difficult to fall back to sleep in the beginning. The young black girls' bare feet were soft and smooth, but her toes literally "pinned" my head, neck and face in place. It was nearly an hour before I simply passed out from the humiliation and fatigue I was feeling at that moment. The manner in which this very young woman was treating me was truly degrading. The absolute control she had over me was something that I would have never imagined, or ever asked for. It was as if I was just there and being "molded" or "trained" to her specifications. And, I was being forced to submit to it.

We didn't sleep very long. The little catnap Alexis described was less than two hours long, yet it felt more like 5 minutes to me. I was awakened by the shadow and presence of this small, black woman hovering over me on the bed as I now layed on my back, facing upwards. Her knees were on either side of my shoulders and her butt cheeks just above my chest when I finally began coming out of my sleep state.

There were no words. She didn't say a thing as she grabbed the top of my head by my blonde hair and forced her trimmed pussy onto my face. The movement was so sudden to me. The young black woman simply began grinding herself to pleasure, using my already reddened face as a tool for her to reach another quick orgasm. Defeatedly, I layed there motionless and without any protest. My fear and humiliation overwhelmed me as she came onto my face within merely a few minutes.

Satisfied, Alexis Barron got up and tossed my head to the side as if I were some sort of rag doll. She began walking towards the master bathroom as she finally spoke.

"You're gonna have to learn to eat pussy better than that, white girl." she said.

At the time, I didn't know what else to say about her rude comment. She had to know that I had never done this before and that I was not a lesbian.

"Didn't she?" I asked myself.

Those were my first thoughts and the first words came from my lips, unexpectedly.

"Alexis, I am not a lesbian." I said, softly.

The 18-year-old black woman merely smiled. "You will be." she returned, an obviously cocky and all-knowing expression tracing her beautiful face.

"Get yourself ready fast and fetch me a cup of coffee. I bought some the other day. Then, I feel like doing a little shopping." she ordered.

Alexis casually strolled nude into the master bathroom that was attached to my bedroom, then shut the door. I was sitting on the edge of the bed holding my roughly used face, confused and dazed beyond explanation. That is when I heard the sound of the shower head turning on.

My initial thoughts were not to make her angry. At the time, she knew I had heard her directives and I quickly scurried to the other upstairs bathroom. Nervously, I showered as fast as I possibly could and applied a healthy amount of spray-on conditioner to my damp hair, combing through it with a feeling of desparation.

The main guest bedroom of my 5 bedroom home was where I kept several of my spare summer dresses, undergarments and shoes. I opened the closet and threw on a white summer dress with a yellow colored beltline, which was accentuated by a discreet bright yellow and red floral pattern over the right shoulder. I chose tan flat sandals because I thought we would be walking a lot that day while we shopped. Then, I literally scurried out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen to prepare the coffee that Alexis had ordered.

I was confused by my feelings of anxiety and fear of trying not to upset the young, black woman. I heard her still contuning to "primp" in the other room and almost felt relieved that I had readied myself before she did, which was as she directed me to do.

In the kitchen, I looked for the coffee Alexis had mentioned purchasing earlier that week, and I finally noticed it. The single cup packs of "Africa Kitamu" blend from Starbucks lay resting alongside the cookie jars near my refrigerator. They were designed for the single cup coffee brewing machine that I owned, but rarely used.

Just as I finished brewing the cup of African Blend coffee for Alexis Barron, I heard her coming down the stairs. I hurriedly placed the cup onto it's appropriate small plate and walked into the livingroom to see her standing there.

The young black woman was dressed very casually and youthfully, yet classy and sexy at the same time.

She wore a pair of tight, bronze-colored capri length leggings made of a shiny nylon and spandex blend of material. Gold toned sandals adorned her perfectly-shaped size 5 bare feet. Her longer dark hair was pulled straight back and tied neatly into a pony tail, held in place by a matching gold toned hair ribbon. Her black hair was shiny and perfectly healthy looking.

The blouse she chose was a bright white shade that was tied into a knot just below her large 32c cup breasts, which completely exposed her exquisitely trimmed and mocha toned midriff. Her navel was pierced with an obvious gold and diamond pin, which matched the half dozen expensive gold bracelets that accented both of her small wrists. Her nails were long and freshly painted in the same bronze shade of polish that matched her toes and outfit. And, her lips were slathered in a matching lighter bronze shade of lipstick.

She looked at me as I stood there by the kitchen holding the cup of coffee and dish with both hands.

"I take exactly one teaspoon of cream in my coffee." she directed.

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

My face felt flushed when I answered her. My timid feeling around her embarrassed me as I returned to the kitchen to add the single teaspoon of cream to her coffee. Then, I returned to the livingroom to serve her.

The 18-year-old black woman was sitting at the edge of the sofa with an unlit cigarette hanging from her lips. Her legs were crossed one over the other as both of her feet touched the brazilian redwood floor. She was casually rummaging through her purse as I bent to one knee to place her coffee onto the glass table just off to her left.

"Stay put." she directed, nonchalantly.

I essentially froze in place as I looked at her stern and beautiful face from my position on one knee. Seconds later, she pulled out a miniature ceramic ashtray in a bronze and gold color and set it onto the glass table beside her coffee. Then, she pulled out a small lighter and smoothly handed it to me while placing her purse on the floor to the left of her.

She looked at me with serious eyes and the unspoken command to light the long, thin cigarette. After a moment's pause I simply complied. Her eyes met mine, once again, as she blew that first puff of smoke from her cigarette in my direction. It seemed rather rude of her to do so and it nearly made me cough.

The young black woman took a sip of her coffee and then looked back towards me. She was still sitting on the very edge of the sofa with her firm and toned legs crossed, her left leg over right. She held her cigarette gracefully between two fingers and rested the elbow of her left arm onto her left knee with one smooth movement. Then, she leaned over and began studying my face with an added curiosity and amusement.

"I will need some new things." she said.

"A young black woman in my new position of authority needs to dress a certain way, don't ya' think?" she added.

The realization of Alexis Barron's new position as Acting President of my company made me feel weak. Her sudden reminder caused my face to blush, uncontrollably. This seemed to please her as a faint smile traced her bronzed and polished full lips.

"Y-Yes, Ma'am." I whispered.

Alexis took another sip of her coffee before taking another drag of her Virgina Slims cigarette. I felt insecure and uneasy with the silence as she continued to look me over. Suddenly, she changed the subject.

"You're not going to wear those shoes, are you?" she asked, saracatically.

I didn't know how to respond. I just knelt there on one knee and speechless for a moment. The black woman directed me to return upstairs to my bedroom and change my shoes to the 4 inched white summer sandals with the corked heel, which I owned. She made mention that she had noticed them in my closet while she was getting ready.

"I want you looking as tall as possible." she said in a childishly amused tone of voice.

"Yes, M-Ma'am. O-Okay." I replied, quielty.

This directive of hers truly confused me at the time. I was completely and totally bewildered by her statement to want me as tall as possible. I couldn't understand the reasons why the young-looking black woman would want this because I was already substantially taller than her. At a clumsier 6'1" tall compared to her petite 4'11" tall frame, I was already a full 14 inches taller than Alexis Barron. Now, she was telling me to wear 4 inch summer sandals to accentuate my height?

It didn't make any sense to me at the time. One would think that she would want me to be closer to her in size and, perhaps, wear flats while she wore heels? But, she was directing me to do the complete opposite.

Despite my confusion, I just did as Alexis directed. I changed into the heeled summer sandals that matched my summer dress before swiftly returning to the livingroom.

Alexis was now standing there, distracted by the text messages on her cell phone as I stood still watching her. She didn't even look back at me to approve or disapprove of my appearance.

"Okay, let's go. Grab my purse over there." she directed, as she headed for the front door.

As I grabbed my purse and then her purse, I realized that the young black woman was standing in the foyer at the front door still checking the messages on her phone. It didn't really occur to me then that she was actually waiting for me to open the door for her. But, I did open the door to let her out and then locked it shut behind us as we stepped outside.

When I got to my car, I swiftly tossed our purses into the back seat and then sat myself down in the driver's seat. I nervously started my car. I turned on the air conditioning and locked my seatbelt into place, preparing for the long drive to the mall on the other side of town. That is when I suddenly realized that Alexis had not yet entered the car.

Confused, I looked over to see the 18-year-old black woman standing outside in front of the passenger side door of my BMW. Her arms were crossed and she had a almost disappointed look on her pretty face as she continued reading through her text messages.

I unlocked my seat belt and stepped out with one foot on the driveay and looked towards her from across the roof of my car.

"Is s-something wrong, A-Alexis?" I asked, nervously.

I couldn't see her eyes because she was wearing the pair of darker Gucci sunglasses she owned. Still, I could feel her staring right at me. It was just before noon and the weather was already quite hot. It was getting uncomfortable and the sun was almost shining directly in her face.

"My door!" she snapped.

For a just a moment my thought was only that there could be something wrong with the door, or that it wasn't unlocked. That thought didn't last long.

I really didn't know any better then. I simply walked around the car and arrived to the passenger side door and then looked at it. I looked back to Alexis, and back to the door once again. That is when it finally occurred to me that she was merely waiting for me to open the door for her.

My throat tightened. A feeling of complete humiliation came over me as I conceded and reached for the door, wating for her to enter my car. She entered slowly, almost cocklily, and I finally closed the door behind her. It was embarrassing to be treated in such a manner, like I was some sort of servant to her. But, I certainly felt that upsetting her would not be a good thing for me to do at this time. I felt completely under her control.

When I got back into my car and reset my seatbelt to get ready for the drive, the young black woman spoke.

"Look at me." she ordered.

I was afraid to do so. In fact, I was almost terrified as I turned my head towards her. Alexis now had her sunglasses resting at the tip of her nose, exposing her serious eyes. She gracefully reached over and put her left hand to me, gently holding my face in place as she looked deeper into my eyes.

"Listen!" she started.

"You should know that I don't reach! I don't reach for things. I don't reach for doors and I don't reach for anything. I just don't reach!" she said.

"I also don't carry. I don't like carrying things either." she explained.

I just looked back into her serious and beautiful eyes with the fear of a child being scolded.

"Is that understood?" she asked.

"Y-Yes, Ma'am. I-I'm sorry." I apologized.

The small black woman smiled.

"Good." she said. "Let's go now." she commanded.

Quietly, I began driving. Without too much consideration, I was headed to the mall on the other side of town, about 15 miles away. I didn't really give this a great deal of thought, but I believe subconsciously I was trying to stay away from the richer area where I had been living for so long. As I was about to enter the expressway a few miles from home, the young black woman looked up from her cell phone and finally spoke.

"Where are you going?" she asked, sternly.

"Uhm, I-I'm going to the m-mall Alexis." I answered, trying to respond pleasantly.

Her beautiful face scowled as she gazed the landscape and our surroundings.

"No. Turn around. We're going to that whitebread mall of yours." she ordered.

I knew the mall this black teenaged woman was referring to. It was Oaktown Mall.

Oaktown Mall was not your typical mall. It was an extremely exclusive and trendy, upper class outdoor mall set into ritzy and pleasant surroundings. It was generally 99.99% white with a myriad of upscale shops, water fountains and outdoor cafes. It was hardly a place where one would see a young black women shopping.

I didn't know exactly what to say. But, I turned the car around and headed for the upscale mall that Alexis Barron had decided upon.

We arrived no more than 10 minutes later.

It was a Saturday afternoon and not too far past noon. The upscale Oaktown Mall was at it's peak and quite crowded, and this made it quite challenging to find a parking spot close to the entrance of the outdoor mall. I must have circled around three times before preparing for a fourth trip around when Alexis made me stop the car.