Black Alexis Dominates White Ch. 08

Alexis Barron now sat in the passenger's seat of my BMW just outside my house. It was close to 6 o'clock by now and we had just spent the past five and a half hours shopping for her selfish needs.

The entire time I felt demoralized to the point of tears. The utter humiliation that I was feeling from this unfathomable experience could hardly be described. Many will find this experience at Oaktown Mall difficult to believe. I'm quite sure they will never be able to understand just how ruthless this young black woman was as she so casually and discreetly humiliated me. But, it was real and I sat there for just a moment trying to gather my thoights and comprehend what had just happened.

I was truly scared and intimidated by Alexis Barron. I was also quite embarrassed by my own inability to stand up to this much younger black woman.

The 4'11" tall, 95 lb. black woman was just 18-years-old, yet her youthful beauty and natural dominant nature conveyed such an undeniable aura of inner strength. She seemed to convey this message to all those she would encounter. Despite her dimunitive size, Alexis was one of the most beautiful and perfectly-proportioned women that I had ever met, or anyone else could ever imagine. Her beauty can be described, by many, as "off the charts" and she used this gift to attract or lure anyone she desired to engage.

It was more than her physical beauty that weakened me. Her 32c-21-33 figure was, indeed, perfect for her small size. But, Alexis Barron was also embarrassingly intelligent for her young age and horrifyingly wise above her years. Her mere presence and piercing lighter brown eyes unquestionably overwhelmed me.

Above all, I was beginning to learn just how discreetly and boldly sadistic this young woman could be. My feelings of ineptitude and intense intimidation had never been so high before. These feelings I was experiencing at the time were even beginning to frighten me.

I began thinking that it had to be obvious to the young black woman that I had no "fight" left in me at all. None, whatsoever. She had to know by now that I felt totally defeated by her. There wasn't an ounce of resistence left in my body as I conceded to her unreasonable demands.

Perhaps, she had known this all along? Or, at least since that very first day we met at my office when I pathetically "caved in" to her stern words and her firm almost obnoxious attitude.

Yes, it is true that I had always found Alexis to be quite attractive. It's hard to imagine that anyone on this planet could think otherwise. Her physical beauty was on such a high level that it would make any woman feel less attractive than they really were. But, it was her qualities of confidence, self-assuredness and natural dominance which she so proudly possessed that truly humbled me. I was starting to notice that she humbled others as well.

These were the same qualities in a woman that I had always admired, from afar. During my entire scholastic career I almost envied women like her. They were qualities that were simply admired but never physical. Now, they seemed to be a thousand times magnified and on an entirely different level. I truly had never been actually confronted by a woman like Alexis Barron before, and this feeling continued to confuse me.

Exiting the car, I walked around to the passenger's side door and then opened it. I stood there holding onto the door and waited for the young black woman to emerge. But, Alexis Barron remained sitting. She was completely ignoring me while she stared down at her cell phone to review the new text messages that had just "chirped" her phone. She didn't seem to be the least bit concerned about making me stand there in the driveway of my own home as I continued holding the car door.

This long wait was excruciating to me.

Not once did she ever acknowledge my presence as a full five minutes went by. I felt even more embarrassed and my mind began to wander as I looked over the top of my car and out into the distance towards the driveway entrance. This was about 90 feet away. I was simply waiting and watching the light flow of traffic go by and I felt nervous and humiliated by my new role.

The neighboring homes and the road weren't very close, but they were still close enough for anyone to notice me if they cared to look in this direction. This kept me on edge as I continued waiting for young Alexis to step out of my car. My face felt warmer by the added embarrassment she seemed to be causing. I could now feel the thicker dried up dirty and muddy toe prints from her feet on my cheeks beginning to set in. They now felt like some sort of facial mask I once used to clean my pores.

Mercifully, the young black woman finally stepped out of my car and began walking towards the front door. Not once did Alexis remove her eyes from her cell phone as she continued to act as if I didn't exist. For some unknown reason, I was still holding the car door open. I don't know why. I was awed by her arrogance as I watched her step up to the front door and stop. She simply stood there at the entrance of my home with all her attention focused on that little phone.

I closed the car door and dutifully ran to open the front door to let the black girl inside. She stepped inside, gracefully, then finally turned to me as if I were merely a second thought.

"Go get my things. Bring them inside." Alexis ordered, waving the back of her right hand in the most condescending way imagineable.

"Y-Yes, Ma'am." I whimpered, embarrassed.

As I walked back out to my car to fetch all those bags from Alexis Barron's day of shopping, I began thinking more about what was happening. Thoughts of how I got myself into such an embarrassing situation like this had consumed me. Things were happening so fast that I hardly had time to contemplate my own options. I was scared and I felt that I had been caught off-guard by the 18-year-old black woman since that day she came into my life.

"Maybe I could just walk away from this whole situation." I began thinking as I stood there before the opened trunk of my car.

But, that is when the sound of her firm and extremely youthful sounding voice rang through the air. Her words snapped me back into consciousness and pierced right through me.

"Where are you?" she screeched, yelling from inside the house.

Nervously, I gathered all the bags from the trunk. Frantically, I grabbed the remaining bags and our purses from the back seat and then ran inside. I was incredibly intimidated by the young black woman's more serious tone of voice, which seemed displeased by the amount of time I was taking.

The black teenaged woman stood at the counter of my kitchen, her elbows resting upon it and still manipulating her cell phone.

I now stood in the livingroom just past the foyer with the numerous shopping bags in hand. I was quiet and more bewildered about what to do next as young Alexis finally looked up from her cell phone, and then towards me.

"We still have a lot of things to go over with the PNL Report." she said, dryly.

I simply stood there in silence looking in her direction.

"First, I need a shower. After you put all my new things away, and all my old things from the boxes, you do the same!" Alexis ordered.

"Y-Yes, M-Ma'am." I answered, barely making eye contact with her.

The 18-year-old black woman simply kicked off her gold sandals across the living room in a wayward direction. Both sandals ended up in very different parts of the large room as she turned and finally began walking up the carpeted stairwell towards the shower.

Embarrassed, I dropped all the bags I was holding and chased after her sandals, setting them on the shoe rack just outside the foyer. I had to make 4 trips up and down those stairs leading up to the bedrooms to retrieve the shopping bags and the boxes Alexis Barron had delivered to my home.

I could hear the young black woman showering as I set her large boxes and the new bags down at the foot of my king sized bed. The spandex leggings, blouse and panties she had worn during our shopping trip were spewn about the floor, rudely and carelessly. Defeatedly, I just gathered them up and placed them into the small wicker hamper just outside the master bathroom.

This was all so embarrassing for me. I stood there for a moment and looked down at the two large boxes marked "AB" and the myriad of bags from her day of shopping.

"Where was I going to put all her things?" I asked myself.

"Why did I agree to let her stay here?" I thought.

As I opened the boxes and began pulling the piles of Alexis Barron's neatly folded clothes out from them, I began settng them onto the bed. There were several short skirts, a few pairs of size zero jeans and a plethora of both casual and dressier blouses. There were many small, very feminine cut-off-at-the-navel styled tee shirts and casual body-hugging short-shorts. Petite sized yoga pants, leggings, ankle-high socks and 3 packages of coffee-toned stockings that were unopened would empty the first large box.

I could hear Alexis continuing to shower as I opened the second box of her clothes. My feelings of humiliation continued to envelope me as I began removing the articles of clothing from that next large cardboard box.

There were more yoga pants, jeans and spandex leggings in a variety of colors, several two-piece bikinis in bright solid colors, and only two pairs of heels and sandals. There was also a fairly-large black leather bag of personal grooming items. But, what curiously caught my attention the most were two things.

The first was the obnoxiously large amount of panties and bras folded neatly near the bottom. Mostly panties. There had to be at least 250 pairs of the skimpiest little nylon, nylon-lycra and nylon-chiffon panties in there?! They were mainly solid colors and none of them were thong-styled ones, yet they all had to be the tiniest and flimsiest full-cut panties available without actually being a thong. The vast array of panties she possessed was startling!

The second item that was curious to me was a large zip loc bag that held about a half dozen pairs of nylon stockings and pantyhose. They were all curled up inside this bag and apparently worn before. They were simply marked "worn" in a black marker.

As I emptied the last box onto the top of the bed I heard the shower stop running. I grew more tense as I tried to decide where I was going to put all her things. My bedroom had a large oak wood chest of drawers with a mirror mounted on top, but only one of them. My large walk-in closet with a smaller set of drawers inside wasn't enough room to hang many more things besides my own. I knew that it would be difficult to find any extra space at all. I only used the closet in one of the other bedrooms for a few spare outfits.

I heard the young black woman continuing to "primp" in the bathroom and could sense that she was about to come out. Deep down, I suppose that I was feeling more nervous about not getting her things put away in a timely manner. Thoughts of her being angered by this began to stir around in my mind.

Worriedly, I grabbed one of the many piles of Alexis Barron's panties in my arms and bent to one knee to access the bottom drawer of the oak set of drawers. I am sure that I had moe than 40 pairs in the crook of my arm when I opened it and noticed that it was completely empty!

"What?" I thought to myself.

I began opening all the other 8 drawers that had been filled with my clothes. Unbelieveably, they had all been emptied.

"Where are all my things?" I asked myself, quietly.

My face felt warm from embarrassment as the 18-year-old black woman finally emerged from the master bathroom.

Alexis stepped right out in the most non chalant manner. She was completely nude and patting the underside of her neck dry with a small, white bath towel. A shower cap adorned her head. Her body was embarrassingly perfect for such a small woman, and her deep mocha brown skin glistened in the glow of the sunset coming through the windows of my bedroom. She was also holding what looked like a blue and yellow tube of lotion in her left hand.

I merely gazed upon her for just a moment before lowering my eyes, embarrassed by her bold nudeness and superior beauty. I almost felt as if I was not allowed to look upon her. Yet, the one and only brief glance I did take was permanently ingrained in my mind.

Her pussy mound was exquisitely trimmed as she glanced towards me as if I were nothing more than a mere peasant. She hardly paid me any attention at all and seemed only mildly curious as to what I was doing. I was still on one knee and continued holding a small pile of her panties in my arm before the opened bottom drawer. The young black woman simply disgarded me with her eyes and casually walked over to the bed when she noticed her things spread neatly upon it.

I was frozen there in a near panic for a moment as I watched in complete awe as Alexis began "sifting" through one of the larger piles of her panties, which layed upon the bed. She seemed to be looking for a certain pair and began to arrogantly toss the unwanted ones over her shoulder and carelessly about the room in the most thoughtless and uncaring manner. Most of them ended up on the floor and she had to go through at least 50 pairs before finally making a decision on which ones to wear.

She decided on a pair of deeper hot pink and opaque colored bikini panties with thinner sides that were made from an ultra flimsy nylon and chiffon blend of material. She stepped into them, effortlessly, and began rummaging through the many tee shirts laying next to the several piles of panties. Again, she rudely began disgarding the unchosen ones about the room, flipping them over her shoulder and off to her side without a care in the world. When she finally made her selection, she held it up high before her in the most arrogant way one can imagine. She gazed upon it for what seemed like an extended period of time.

I was in absolute awe as I remained to one knee before the chest of drawers, only seven or eight feet behind her. I was barely looking up to her from this position as she seemed to be contemplating her choice of shirt, and this delay is what caused me to look up to it.

The one she decided upon truly embarrassed me.

The shirt she chose was the exact same hot pink color as her flimsy bikini panties, but the cut-off above the navel styled short-sleeved tee shirt was all cotton and boldly displayed the words "Black Power" right across the chest in a thick, dark print. The "O" in the word "power" carried the crossed symbol for feminism and there was a smaller clenched black fist inside of a circle just beneath the letters.

I felt as if there was a lump beginning to form in my throat as I watched the black girl disgard her shower cap and toss it onto the floor. At the same time, she was still holding that large tube of lotion as she slipped the shirt over her head and positioned it over her full bare breasts. She cupped her supple breasts to add additional comfort to them.

Once again, I lowered my eyes as quickly as possible as she made a sudden turn towards me.

I remained on one knee before the opened bottom drawer still clutching a group of her panties when she began stepping towards the large, oak chest of drawers. She was about to look at herself in the mirror anchored atop the chest when the young black woman abruptly shoved the bottom drawer shut with her right foot. The loud slamming sound of the oak drawer being shut startled me. I wasn't expecting that at all since I was just about to place that first pile of her panties inside.

Selfishly and barbarously, Alexis positioned herself closer in towards the chest with the top cut mirror. It was like she didn't have a care in the world about my presence there.

Imprudently, Alexis now stood no more than a few inches from my one kneed position at the bottom drawer. My face turned red with the realization that her ass cheeks in those flimsy, opaque hot pink panties were now on the same level as my face and just off to the side. My side view of the young black woman's upper right thigh so close to me was truly degrading as I looked at the thin sides of those panties.

I could hear her placing that tube of lotion onto the top of the chest, and I could see from my peripheral vision that she was now resetting her hair. She had a hair tie clenched in her teeth as she manipulated her hair into a tighter ponytail style with both of her hands. Her hips and backside were wiggling back and forth in the most wildly and childlike manner, almost blatantly as she tied her silky hair back.

Alexis seemed to be taking her time as stared at her own perfection in the mirror. I actually fell to both knees now and sat on the backs of my legs, almost mortified by her attitude. It was thoroughly embarrassing. It was at that time when she gracefully brought her right hand to a downward position and daintily placed her index finger and thumb to the bottom part of her bikini panties that barely covered her right side ass cheek. In an arrogant and bratty manner, she pulled on the backside bottoms of her flimsy panties and gently stretched them outwards in the most gentle, yet exaggerated manner before letting it go and "snapping" them back into place. She did this obnoxiously rude gesture literally no more than two inches before my face.

I was further mortified when the 18-year-old black girl then turned to her left side to view herself in the mirror. This left her panty-clad ass cheeks in those little panties directly before my dirt-covered face. She began maneuvering her firm young breasts in that cut off tee shirt while she examined her reflection. She remained in this position with her backside practically in my face for more than a minute before she finally grabbed the tube of lotion and began walking away.

"I'll be downstairs." she said, simply.

The brash and arrogant gesture of her putting her backside so close to my face had to be obvious to the young black woman.

"How could she not know this?" I asked myself.

I was flustered and could not move for a moment before I realized that I had to get her things put away and then take a shower. Nervously, I scurried around the room getting Alexis Barron's clothes put away. I filled the chest of drawers and put the rest of her new clothes and shoes into the closet, still unaware of what she had done with all my things.

At that particular moment I was thinking that maybe this young black woman had put my things in another room. Still, I felt rushed to complete my task and I would look for them later.

Twenty minutes later, I stepped into the master bath to see the young black woman's used wet towels spewn onto the floor in a wildly careless fashion. The floor was soaking wet from her feet and it appeared that she didn't care at all about using the bath mat. Upset, I got down to my hands and knees to clean up her mess. It was both humiliating and defeating to do so.

Finally, I was ready to take my own shower and I turned on the water. Like always, I was letting it run for a minute to get it a little warmer. And, that is when I looked at myself in the mirror. It was the first time I would look at myself since we had been in the car at the mall.

My face was still covered with the dirt from the black teenager's bare feet earlier that day. There were the most blatant and obvious dried up muddy imprints of Alexis' toes and the balls of her feet conceivable. The heavy dirty foot prints were on both of my cheeks, as well as one on my forehead. Even more demoralizing, my nose, lips and chin were slathered with the dirt from the obtrusive and rude smearing of my face with her toes during our visit to the Le'Tour Cafe.

I was terribly demeaned as I stared at my own refelection in the bathroom mirror.