Black Alexis Dominates White Ch 09

Despite my severe fatigue and the culmination of degradation and absolute mortification I was feeling when I passed out, I hardly slept well.

It had to be past 2 in the morning when the young, teenaged black woman dragged me to the bedroom by my hair. Now, I was awakened by the sound of Alexis Barron relieving herself in the master bathroom. The bathroom door was half opened and the bright light was shining in my face from my laying position at the foot of the bed.

I looked over to the digital clock illuminating from night stand at Alexis' side of the bed. It read 5:38 a.m.

As I heard the sound of a flushing toilet and peered towards the lit bathroom, I grew more tense. Quickly, I moved from my laying position and "sccoted" further down to another position closer to the end of the bed. Without much thought, my instinct seemed to be to move my face further away, and out of reach from the shorter black woman's bare feet as she slept. It had been an embarrassing position to be in from the start and, perhaps, I was thinking that she would not notice.

As the bathroom light "clicked" off and I felt Alexis coming back into the bedroom, I grew frightened. Nervously, I shut my eyes and pretended to be fast asleep. With my eyes closed and my head now resting further away from the reach of the black teenager's feet, I feigned sleep. My heart was racing, and I was hoping and praying that she would never notice my position had changed in the middle of the night.

But, she did.

Even in her half-asleep state the young black woman was keenly aware of my presence. With the utmost arrogance, she casually and non chalantly grabbed my blonde hair by the top of my head and literally pulled me closer to her and back into place. She held my hair with her fist as she felt around with her little feet in the darkness of the room until her both of them were literally "planted" so firmly onto my cheeks and chin.

Now content, she let go of my hair and began going back to sleep without a word ever being spoken.

This boorish and abusive action was abundantly humiliating for me. The petite 18-year-old woman did not even know that I was awake, yet she had the insolence and pomposity to use my 40-year-old face in such a disrespectful manner. It caused my feelings of defeat to increase as I struggled to get back to sleep.

Twenty five minutes later I began to see the sun starting to rise from the window on the east side of my bedroom. In utter degradation I continued to lay there, motionless, as the young black woman stirred around in her sleep.

Her tiny, smooth feet were so active during this time, and they poked and prodded and smeared across my embarrassed face in a wildly irritated manner. It was clear that she was sleeping, yet restless and uneasy. Her firm, young toes manipulated the position of my face and head in such an exaggerated fashion. At one point, she even "gripped" both sides of my face with her bare toes to turn my head to another position, still laying on her right side and seemingly unconscious. My struggles to breathe and get comfortable were of no concern to her. Timidly, I just layed there hoping her restlessness would soon stop. After another fifteen minutes, it did.

Finally, she settled into a position on her trimmed belly with the top of her left toes resting directly over my eyes. The tops of her right toes now spread across my dried lips. The tops of her young feet firmly pressed down with one last motion as they embarrassingly anchored my head into place.

Humiliated and beaten, my fatigue soon got the best of me and I finally fell back asleep, myself.

It was 10:30 a.m. when I was awakened by the slight pressure of Alexis Barron's right bare sole across my partially-opened mouth. As I opened my eyes and gained consciousness, I realized that she had turned over onto her back and was masturbating herself with her fingers. It was shocking to me.

Her left sole was across my neck and the toes of her right foot were rubbing back and forth across my lips in a rhythmic fashion. Her young body motions as she masturbated caused her leg to rock back and forth and her foot to move across my lips in an abrupt and intrusive manner. Humbly, I layed still. The sudden awareness of what this black girl was doing embarrassed me to no end. She was bringing herself to climax as she layed on her back massaging the crotch of her opaque pink panties.

It was all so surreal to me. Her dominance over me appeared to be the motivation she needed to bring herself to an orgasm as she continued to swipe her bare toes across my now swelling lips.

Within ten minutes, Alexis Barron climaxed.

Selfishly, she had brought herself to a morning orgasm as I lay beneath her. My arms were down to my sides, submissively, and my face looking up to the ceiling. The feelings of defeat consumed me as I listened to the young black woman begin to catch her breath.

Moments later, she gracefully pulled both legs upwards by the knees almost to her chest and removed her soaked hot pink colored panties. She then got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom, rudely and daintilly placing the used panties right upon my face. I was thoroughly and utterly disgraced as her soaking wet pink panties rested upon my face, nose and lips. She was so arrogant and malicious to do this, yet she did so in the most casual and non chalant way anyone can imagine.

Incredibly degraded, I just layed there unable to move. My arms were weakened by a combination of immense demoralization and the nearly 7 hours of massaging her feet from the night before. My vision was almost fully blocked by the black woman's soaking wet pink nylon panties. I was only able to see a sliver of sunlight coming through window of my bedroom.

The intense, pungeant aroma of her extremely worn panties pervaded my senses as they so crudely layed upon my face. The strong scent humbled me. Even more defeating was the fact that the juices from her dripping wet panties began to "trickle" down both sides of my face, and down to my lips. The sweet taste embarrassed me, yet it felt and tasted like some sort of witches potion that was concocted to control me.

For nearly 15 minutes, I simply layed there in utter humiliation as I listened to the distant sounds of the streaming water from the shower. I was unable to move.

Alexis was cleaning herself off in the shower and the time seemed to pass by quickly as my mind wandered in and out of it's mild sleep state.

When I opened my eyes again I could see and feel her flimsy little panties on my face. I was not sure how much time had passed, but the sound of the shower had stopped and I heard the "creaking" of the bathroom door opening.

I would swear that I heard a soft "giggle" coming from the lips of the beautiful, black teenager as she stood in the doorway. Seemingly, she was amused by the sight of an older white woman laying on the bed, face up, with a pair of her used panties resting upon her face. Although I wasn't quite sure that this sound was the cause of her amusement, I reasoned that it could not have been for any other purpose.

Brazenly, Alexis Barron stepped up to the bed to view what she might have seen as her conquest of a much older and substantially taller white woman. She was nude with a full, white bath towel resting around her neck and covering her young, supple breasts. That is when she leaned over me and delicately removed the worn panties from my face.

My eyes finally met hers. They were filled with such childlike amusement that I can hardly describe them. With unimagineable arrogance, the 18-year-old black girl partially opened my mouth by its' chin and began rubbing the crotch of her used panties onto my tongue.

"Mmmm. Black pussy tastes good, huh white girl?" she asked.

The action lasted merely a second, but my eyes grew wide and obviously mortified beyond explanation. She laughed and tossed her little panties off to the side, and onto the floor.

"Come on, get yourself ready. We have a little more shopping to do." Alexis ordered.

Humiliated beyond belief, I gathered my senses and scurried off to the bathroom and closed the door. I was nearly in tears by now, embarrassed and degraded by how this younger black woman was treating me.

"This couldn't be happening." I told myself.

"It just couldn't be." I reasoned.

But, it was happening.

The realization set in and I began to run the shower as I stepped around the used and sloppily-placed towels on the floor, which Alexis Barron had left behind. Once again, I had to shower quickly since the amount of hot water she left behind was scarce.

Frantically, I finished and I had to put on the same older white yoga suit from years past. I was still afraid to ask the young black woman what she did with my other clothes. Although I knew that I would eventually have to ask, I found it difficult to summon up enough courage to do so. Confrontations have always intimidated me, but to confront this 18-year-old black woman magnified my fear a thousand times over.

Tentatively, I minced my way down the stairs and saw Alexis sitting on the same part of the sofa from the night before. The moment she noticed me, she spoke.

"You remember how I like my coffee, right?" she asked.

I thought about it for a moment, then answered. "Yes, Ma'am." I replied, timidly.

"Good." she said, as she "waved me off" with the back of her right hand to fetch it in the most demeaning mannerism.

Alexis Barron was already dressed. Today, a Sunday, she chose a pair of very thin and tight white nylon-spandex leggings. They were a capri length style and matched the half-cut white blouse she wore perfectly. She added a thicker black cloth belt to accentuate this outfit. A pair of white leather ballerina flats and a few african-styled bracelets and necklaces completed her ensemble for the day.

The young black woman remained sitting and playing with her cell phone as she manipulated the television set controls. She seemed engaged with a business-related program as I meekly stepped into the kitchen.

Many thoughts crossed my mind while I prepared the 18-year-old's cup of african blend coffee. The most devastating to me was the manner in which she had physically used me the night before, and then again this morning. I was quiet and withdrawn, and I found it increasingly difficult to look into her piercing, dominating eyes.

After I added the single teaspooon of cream to her cup of freshly-brewed coffee, I served it to her before the sofa. There was no acknowledgement of me serving her. I merely stood there and watched the young black woman sitting there, sipping her coffee and watching the news. And, after only 10 minutes, she disgarded the half full cup onto the glass table and turned to me.

"Let's go. I don't want to take all day. I still wanna lay out a little before the days' over." she announced.

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

Just as the day before, I held the door open for Alexis as she exited my house. As she walked towards my car in the driveway I noticed her outfit from behind. Astonishingly, the ultra thin nylon-spandex material of her white leggings revealed a pair of obnoxiously obvious zebra-print panties underneath.

The image of them was so clear and they were covering her petite and femininely well-muscled ass cheeks. The full detail of the black and white stripes of her flimsy little zebra-stripe patterned nylon panties could not have been so apparent. They stood out, flagrantly.

It was almost as if she had worn them on purpose and with total arrogance.

In my mind, I questioned her style for only a minute. Knowing Alexis Barron's attitude, I came to the conclusion she had chosen this image to draw attention to her tiny, perfectly-shaped ass. It humiliated me as I watched the young woman saunter to the passenger's side door of my car, where she waited for me to arrive.

As she entered my car and I walked around to let myself in, I saw her manipulating the GPS system. She plugged in an address and ordered me to drive.

"Drive." she said, her one word command echoing in my ears.

Nervously, I made my way through the Sunday traffic and entered the expressway. Wherever we were going I could see that it was 43 miles away, and in a suburb that I have never been to. It was about half way through the journey when Alexis finally began to speak.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I did with your clothes?" she asked.

Apprehensively, I nodded a "no" as my voice began to tremble.

"N-N-No, Ma'am." I stuttered.

The black teenager simply laughed at my nervousness and fear.

"Well, I threw them out. They were ugly and stupid, and I will be picking out some new things for you today. Got that?" she snarled.

My face felt like it was turning a beet red. Here was this teenager telling me how I had to dress. It was all too embarrassing for me, yet I managed to nod in agreement and respond to her callous directive.

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

It was at about this time that I was exiting the expressway. The neighborhoods we passed were all middle-class and I looked around to a very culturally diverse suburb mixed with all races. The homes were far less expensive than my own home and many of them appeared unkept.

The GPS directed me to the edge of a downtown area, and to a six corner setting a mile from the expressway. The area could be described as more of a "yuppie" area, and it was quite populated by middle and lower middle class people. A myriad of restaurants aligned the block where Alexis Barron instructed me to park. And, I did.

We began walking down the cracked sidewalks of the street to a destination still unknown to me. The young, black woman proudly walked a full 2 strides ahead of me, wiggling her supple ass cheeks in those tight a flimsy white leggings. Her ass in those zebra print panties was grotesquely obvious to anyone who dared to look, and she walked slowly and with determination as we reached a small shop at the end of the street.

The sign on the shop read "Sarah's Botique" in sharp, red lettering and a lesbian symbol alongside it. As I peered through the glass window in front of the shop, I noticed several mannequins dressed in variety of esoteric outfits. These outfits were skirts of leather and some type of vinyl I had never seen before. There were also a few mannequins dressed in leather collars and bracelets. That is when I realized that this shop was actually a lesbian S and M type of place!

My knees felt like they were about to collapse as the 18-year-old black girl lead me inside. I was shaking nervously because I was so embarrassed by the unknown. Surprisingly, the shop was much larger on the inside than it appeared from out front. It was also meticulously-detailed with glass shelves and marble stands. I would have to admit that this shop was very classy, yet it felt so private and strangely discreet.

There were only 4 other women in the shop as we walked through the shop and I "tagged" along behind Alexis as if I were her lackey. I desparately tried to hide my face in shame.

These women were all white women in their 30's, I would guess, and they were perusing the shop when we walked in. They looked over for just a second, then looked away.

Alexis Barron strolled in like she had been there before. Timidly, I stood behind her and watched as she began looking through a few of the chrome-laminated racks of clothes near the front counter. That is when an older white woman in her 60's emerged from a red velvet curtain from the back of the exquisite shop.

It was Sarah, I reasoned.

Sarah was about 65 years old with greying hair and pretty blue eyes. She was in decent shape for a larger boned woman, standing 5'8" tall on, perhaps, a 160 lb. frame. She carried her size well and dressed as if she were about to go out to a japanese cocktail party. Her red, silk dress was adorned with asian-styled flowers that ran from the top to the bottom of the knee length dress. It also covered her neck. Black heeled sandals about 4 inches high and silk stockings completed the older, white woman's outfit.

"Greetings, Miss Alexis. Another one?" the older woman asked.

The 18-year-old black woman just turned and smiled.

"Oh, hi Sarah. Yes, this is another one from my office. But, this one is special. She's my assistant, Gretchen. The one I told you about." she answered.

My cheeks had to become ten shades of red when I heard the young black woman referring to me in such a condescending manner. Thoughts that she had taken all the other white assistants from my company to this specialty shop as I was in Norway began running through my head. I reasoned that this was why they all had been wearing the same outfits when I returned.

It was Alexis Barron's "encouragement" to adapt what she would eventually refer to as a "uniform."

Humiliated, I just stood there in shame as the older white woman looked me over. I was speechless and scared to be in this shop, and being directed by such a young woman.

"Right this way, Miss Alexis." Sarah said, cordially escorting the both of to a posh sitting area at the other end of the store.

I was embarrassed as we had to walk past the other shoppers in the store. Their glances towards us seemed curious and ones that appeared to pity me.

This sitting area was sectioned off into half hexagon shape with several full length mirrors on every side. It had only one very large, cushioned red chair with a high back and a marble stand to the side. The chair could almost be described as a mock throne and the sign above the small dressing room read "staging area."

Alexis Barron headed right for it and then sat down ofn a red velvet chair. She looked over to me and noticed the look of fear on my timid, blushing face and pulled out one of her cigarettes.

"Don't look so worried. You're gonna love the clothes here." she said.

The older white Sarah immediately approached Alexis and bent to one knee, lighting her cigarette.

"Will you be having champagne again, Miss Alexis?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, Sarah. I think I will. The same as the last time." she directed.

"Yes, Ma'am. Right away." the older white woman answered, standing up and retreating to another part of the store.

Feelings of total ineptitude overcame me. I had always shopped for myself and imagined that I had good style. It made me feel demoralized to be standing in the back of this esoteric clothing shop and having this young, black woman selecting outfits for me to wear.

But, this is exactly what was happening.

When the mid 60's white woman returned, she poured a glass of champagne and handed it to the 18-year-old black woman. She set the remainder of the bottle on the marble stand, in ice, to her left.

"Your order came in today as well, Miss Alexis." she said.

"Thank you, Sarah. Just in time." Alexis returned.

The older white woman then approached me and began taking my measurements. Alexis casually sat there and watched. Her imperious attitude as she sipped on a glass of champagne and smoked a long, thin cigarette kept me on edge. Even more embarrassing was when Sarah gently removed my clothes and placed them off to the side. She left me standing there in the back of this shop almost nude, wearing just my white panties and bra before she exited and walked off to the back room.

Ashamed, I stood there covering myself with my long arms as much as I could. I must've stood there for more than 5 minutes with my eyes down to the carpeted floor beneath my feet. I could feel the young black woman's presence, and the way she was looking at my half-naked body.

Sarah returned with almost the same outfit as the other 7 white women in my office had been wearing since the day I returned. The exception was that the skirt was a pure white linen one rather than the black skirts my staff was wearing. I trembled as the older woman slipped the small white skirt under my feet and up my long legs, wiggling it into place around my full hips.