by TallBlondeGretchen 07/29/11
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.
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