Black Alexis Dominates White Ch. 01Posted on : 2012-01-27 21:16:51.600962
My life has changed in the past three years. It has been turned upside down and inside out in the most unbelieveable, unimagineable and dramatic fashion. I could never have envisioned such a change could ever occur, not to someone like me. But, it was changed. And, it was changed by an extremely beautiful, dominant, young black lesbian woman named Alexis.
To the outside world, I was a woman who seemingly had it all. I was blessed with above average looks, a financially secure husband, a nice home in the suburbs and an apparent career as the President of my very own company.
At this particular time in my life I don't think anyone in the world could have had a different perception of me. Yet, this image that I presented was not who I was inside. It was also a far cry from what I have become since the day that I met Alexis Barron.
I was born and raised in a small town just outside Oslo, Norway. The country of Norway is a relatively quiet and peaceful country that is almost hidden away from the rest of the world.
My father worked as an engineer for a large automobile manufacturer, and my mother as a hotel manager.
My two sisters and I were raised in an upper to middle-class environment, and we were sent to some of the best schools in the country. I was the youngest of the three and began learning the english language at an early age.
I was a diligent and moderately successful student. My grades were on the higher end of an unchallenging curriculum.
By the time I had reached my 14th birthday, my family decided to move to America, and we eventually settled into a comfortable life in the pacific northwest.
My two older sisters were 18 and 20 then, and they began attending college in the midwest almost immediately. I was placed into a very private and exclusive prep school for young women.
With the exception of one asian girl for only one of those years, this all-female prep school was exclusively white. There were never any black, asian or hispanic girls in the entire school of about 400 students.
The coursework at Saint Gertrude's was relatively easy. It resembled one of those finishing schools of the early 20th century that one might see in an old black and white movie. The daily curriculum was geared towards teaching us young women the proper manners and appropriate social etiquette of the upper class world. Most of the young women attending this school would eventually end up as the wife of a wealthy husband, and not much more than that.
Academically, I did quite well. I excelled in all my studies and felt comfortable in this quiet and unassuming environment. With the exception of my above average height, I never did stand out from most of the other girls.
At the start of high school, I had already reached my present height of 6'1" tall. My figure was a trim, yet voluptuous 36-26-37, and I already possessed a full "D" cup. Perhaps, I was about ten pounds lighter than the trim 141 pounds which I carry now.
My personality was always a huge contradiction to my physical appearance. Many would have viewed me as this stautuesque, young blonde woman with a pretty face and a mature figure, and one who might have had an outside chance of becoming a runway model someday.
I wasn't that person.
I was actually quite shy, timid and introverted. Most of the time I just hid behind these conservative dark-rimmed glasses, a result of a strict upbringing by a father who kept us protected from the all the terrors of the outside world. Despite my appearance, I felt clumsier and socially inadequate.
I wasn't nearly as confident or dominant as someone with my size, shape and looks usually is. Simply put, I wasn't this imperial Norwegian goddess many thought I should have been.
There were very few girls at Saint Gertrude's that were different. They were a little more assertive and popular than the rest of us, and they intimidated me.
From a distance, I secretly admired how these types of women could be so self-assured and in control of themselves. I marveled at the way their beauty and their natural social skills seemed to give them the ability to make so many friends. It was like they had some sort of secret power over the others. And, I was fascinated by them.
It didn't seem like a sexual attraction. Not during this period of time. The qualities they possessed were simply the qualities that I admired and felt humbled by.
Like most young women back then, I still had my dreams and fantasies of meeting an attractive and successful man, then becoming his wife. It was the stability and security I sought, and needed. But, at the time I was vaguely aware of it.
After graduating from this private high school, I went on to finish my bachelor's degree and swiftly moved through graduate school. I completed my Master's degree in less than two years.
During my academic career, I continued to have very little interaction with the other students. Mostly, I kept to myself and did not socialize with any of the groups or "clicks" of the schools I attended. There were a few dates that I was coaxed into taking, and this would be the only social life that I can claim. None of them would amount to anything. Mainly, I just focused on my studies and my family life.
My parents were certainly quite proud of me when I finally graduated.
But, I was really more confused than anything else. I was about to turn 25, and I was quite uncertain about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
After taking several months off, I took a job as an office administrator. My very first job was with an firm my father referred me to. Basically, he set me up with a nice job because he knew someone at a norwegian-owned company. I would spend the next five years of my life slowly and methodically crawling up the corporate ladder of the business world.
This was a rather shallow existence for me, to say the least.
My career in the world of international advertising was not all peaches and cream. My roles were less than exciting, as they were always in more secluded "behind the scenes" roles. My professional duties were simplistic, despite the impressive titles that I was given. And, it soom became obvious that my good looks and heritage were playing a much greater role to my advancement than my actual skills were.
I was not very aggressive or authoritative during my short-lived business career, although I became proficient from the administrative side. But, it would be nothing more than that. Never could one say that I was able to make any of the tougher decisions in business, or that I had the ability to make a business operate in a profitable way.
It was about this time when my feelings of ineptitude began. I was about to become 30 years old and I was beginning to have second thoughts about a business career. My thoughts of moving back to Oslo grew stronger since my family had just made that same decision a few weeks earlier. They were already set to move back to Norway when they invited me to a nice dinner one evening.
That is the night I met Jeff.
Jeff was an older gentleman of 50. We met at a small restaurant just outside Tacoma. I was there with my parents to have dinner when he suddenly approached me as I made my way to the ladies room. When my parents witnessed this brief verbal exchange from our table across the room, they began to drill me about him.
Moments later, they were asking him to join us and I wasn't excited about this at all.
My parents never made any secret about the fact they have always wanted me to find a nice man. To them, I was already too old to be a single woman in America and they seemed desperate to find me a husband to settle down with before they moved back to Norway. It was embarrassing for me.
Much to my surprise, Jeff turned out to be a really nice man. He was a tall man that owned a small, but very sucessful buiness in the perfume industry. He was an educated man who had a lot going for him at the time.
Jeff had a beautiful home in the suburbs, which was a short drive from the most elite part of the city from where he ran his business. He liked automobiles and I suppose that he felt some sort of connection to my father and his career in the automobile industry. They talked about automobiles from the first hour, and into the night.
Jeff had a modest collection of 6 older cars that he described as "vintage." Back then, I thought that just meant having a bunch of old, rusted out cars. He said they were worth a lot of money, but it really wasn't something that I found interesting, or cared too much about.
Nevertheless, we began dating right away and within just a few months he proposed. I was about to turn 31.
Obviously, my parents were ecstatic about this new venture. They even made a special trip in from Oslo for a celebration dinner with Jeff's family. They tossed my glasses into a chest of drawers and purchased a pair of contact lenses for me. It was just one of their less than subtle ways to prepare me for my future husband and marriage. In their minds, they weren't going to let this one get away.
We married only a few short months later in that same year.
My new husband was a gentle man. He was a bit shy and never overbearing, yet somehow he had such great ability in the business world. He really knew how to make things work within his own business.
His office was fairly small with a staff of only 8 administrative and clerical women. His company made a very good amount of money.
Money was never the reason that I liked Jeff. It was a very nice thing to have. We were financially well off but not in any extreme or vulgar sort of way. We were moderately rich but not wealthy.
Jeff's modest 5-bedroom home was valued at a little more than 700,000 dollars back in the year 2000, which was about a year after we married. His business brought us a moderate 200,000 dollar annual profit after his personal 250,000 dollar salary as the President of his company. Most of that, he would put back into his business.
To me, it was still a lot of money. It was more money than I had ever known before. The security it provided was nice and we had a comfortable life. Despite my uneasy feelings, I knew that I didn't have to worry about money.
When Jeff made me the vice-president of his small company, I was taken by surprise. I never expected to be in this type of role in my previous years in business. It happened shortly after we married.
My husband gave me a 125,000 dollar salary and a fancy title. But, he made no secret about the fact that he didn't want me doing the nine to five grind everyday. Rather, he preferred that I be the primary homemaker and come into the office "to help out with things" only when they needed me.
This was no more than once or twice a week, at the very most.
It was easy to see that this decision didn't sit well with the other 8 women working for my husband at the time. They were not in leadership roles. They were in administrative positions. To them, I was merely a "trophy" wife who was benefitting from my marriage to a successful man.
The other women were all older than I was. They were in their mid to late 40's, and they had been with Jeff for many years. It was my husband who really ran the business and made all the decisions. My occasional appearance in the office seemed to be more for "show" than anything else. All that I was asked to do was a little filing and accounting, and occasionally answering phone calls to set up appointments. These brief appearances were merely a way to justify my less than deserving high salary.
As Jeff's wife, my life became rather uneventful.
My life was quiet, pleasant and comfortable. I didn't have to work much, and I had this large home with a beautiful in-ground pool set onto a stone deck. I could spend much of my time relaxing if I wanted to.
Most of my time away from his business was spent shopping for expensive clothes and designer high heeled shoes, or planning our next dinner for the night. Yes, despite my 6'1" tall frame, my husband preferred me in 4 inch heels. Over time, I grew accustomed to wearing them and it was beginning to feel natural to be so tall.
The only real work that I was doing around the house was cleaning and paying a few bills. I never liked having someone else cleaning my own home, so I took tremendous pride in doing so.
But, in the years of our marriage it never occurred to me that I was losing most of the few business skills I had acquired before meeting Jeff.
Then, after only 9 years of marriage tragedy struck. Jeff passed away at the age of 59, and I was quite saddened by this.
Now, I was 40. And, I would be on my own for the very first time in a long time.
By then, my parents had already settled back in Norway and I didn't have many friends at all. My sisters were now married and living out east. I suddenly found myself in a situation where I didn't know exactly what I was going to do. My late husband left me the business, the home and everything else, with the exception of two of his six vintage cars.
He left those to his nephews.
I still had my personal car, a BMW. I also had the pending insurance money and the house was already paid for. But, things weren't as secure as they seemed.
When I began going over all the financial obligations with our attorney, I began to realize that there were still many expenses that needed to be taken care of.
The house had very high taxes to pay each year and the insurance on the 4 remaining vintage cars I now owned were quite high. The lease on the office building was almost like paying a mortgage. The insurance money was being held up for what they called "cause," and it was being investigated.
To make matters more difficult, the business was beginning to fail. It was not making as much as it did in the previous years. It was only enough to make a small profit after all the expenses, salaries and taxes were paid. This included my 125,000 salary, of course, and there wasn't much more left after all the monthly bills were paid.
Looking back, I could have sold everything and lived for a few years on the little money I would earn. But, what would I do then?
"What could I do after all the money ran out?" I thought.
Eventually, I came to the realization that I actually needed to work for my salary just to keep up with all the bills. So, I did. And, it was challenging form the start.
Three of the 8 employees I was left with had quit their jobs within just a few months. Others were threatening to go onto different jobs. The 3 employees that left were, perhaps, the best and most knowledgeable women in the entire company.
The other five women who remained were reluctant, yet stayed on. They were very passive and meek secretarial type women who were now in their mid to late 40's, or early 50's. They were more like I was, educated and very good at the administrative parts of the job, but they would never be managers, decision makers or leaders.
One minor thing that did go well was that I was able to sell 3 of the 4 remaining vintage automobiles that my late husband had left me. Those sold so fast I couldn't believe it.
I put away the 95,000 dollars earned from them. The one car I was unable to sell was a 1963 lipstick red convertible Corvette that my late husband had stashed away under some covers in the private garage out back.
Back then, I was very scared and unsure about most everything I was doing. Yet, I made the conscious decision to at least try to salvage the business and create a new life for myself.
That first year after Jeff's passing things didn't go well. I tried everything. But, I was failing in a big way.
The business was beginning to lose more money now and the 5 women still employed were beginning to sense that the end was near. I could see the concern on their faces every morning when I walked in.
All of them had very comfortable salaries and I'm sure they knew it. I don't think they could have possibly done much better anywhere else, despite their education. I believe their ages and being so late into their careers had something to do with their decision to stay.
For one moment, I thought about cutting their salaries. I would cut mine too. But, I seriously did not have the heart or strength to lower their salaries. Eventually, I just took a little less for myself.
As things continued to go downhill faster I tried my very best to keep most of the financial failures of our business a secret from the others. I didn't understand the financial books too well, anyway. I simply didn't know what many of the items on this big report meant.
But, I could see that sales were down and we weren't getting any new business coming in.
It was just me and these 5 older white women in their 40's and 50's trying to do our best to keep things afloat.
They began to rely on me.
Perhaps, we were all just hoping for things to turn around.
"Maybe they would?" I thought.
"Maybe the reason we were getting less business was the poor market?" I reasoned.
I know now that we really didn't know what we were doing. The business just kept losing money.
I also knew that I had to do something else. I thought that maybe I could hire someone who had more experience to help me out in the areas I was failing, which was practically every area.
But, I had absolutely no experience hiring people. I had never done that before. It had always been my late husband's job to bring in new employees.
Still, I tried.
After placing an ad in the newspaper, I hired another two white women in their mid 40's. They seemed much more qualified than I was and they both had very sweet personalities. I thought they would fit in nicely with the rest of the staff.
Their resumes seemed professional, but as it turned out they were more like executive secretaries than business managers. After just a few short months, I realized they were just like the rest of us. They weren't close to being managers or leaders, either.
Now, there were 8 of us - myself and the other 7 forty-plus year old white women who were in the latter part of our careers, struggling to run a small business. We all worked on drumming up more business and calling our existing customers to find out why sales were dropping off so dramatically. Perhaps, we were all trying to prompt them into increasing purchases.
This seemed like the right way to do things.
We kept pushing and pushing the existing product lines my husband had worked so hard to develop.
But, that wasn't working.
We didn't even think about new product development. It didn't even cross our minds back then.
As things began to spiral even further out of control, we went from barely making a profit in my first full year as President to losing over 300,000 dollars in the second year.
The insurance policy was still unresolved, and continued being contested by the insurance company, as well as my late husband's sister. It had been nearly two years and it was costing me a great deal of money for attorneys.
Eventually, I took out a bank loan from a good friend of my late husbands, who was a loan officer at one of our banks.
I had to do this just to make up for the losses.
I think that he knew that I was a huge risk. But, I also knew that he was very attracted to me.
Stupidly, I agreed to a lunch date with him although he was a married man. I knew what I was about to do was wrong, but we really needed the money. I also knew that he was taking a fair amount of pity on me and all my failures.
I was sure that he wouldn't have said yes to a loan if I didn't agree to meet with him.
I walked out of the bank that day feeling like such a whore. Ultimately, I couldn't go through with it and I never met him like I had promised to.
With the loan money, I began to think that maybe I could try again and find the right person to help manage the business.
I certainly did not have the courage to fire anyone.
Rather, I thought that maybe one of the 30 applicants I had interviewed from the previous year were still available and could help. It was a desperate move on my part considering the extremely unsuccessful hires I had that previous year.
I went about contacting many of them anyway.
None of them wanted the job at the salary I could offer, or could afford to pay them by then. Others had gone onto different positions and were already settled and happy.
I kept thinking about ways to recover.
For what seemed like the one hundreth time, I thought that this would be the end of it all. I would end up just cutting my losses and then move on.
I convinced myself that if I couldn't make the business work by the end of that year, I would just give up and simply close the business. I would sell my house in an even worse market and move back to Oslo with my family.
"Perhaps, this would be best?" I thought.
I wondered if I could take a break from it all for about a year and live off the sale of the house minus all my debts. But, at this particular time my debts were beginning to outweigh any money I could have made.
I remember thinking that I had made so many poor decisions in nearly two years. I felt that I was not really cut out for the business world. My efforts had not made things better, only worse. And, the harder I tried the worse things seemed to get.
In another desperate attempt, I even increased the salaries of my 7 white female employees by ten percent. I had hoped this would spur them on to do better.
But, that was another strategy that didn't work.
That is when Alexis Barron walked into our office.
Alexis was a very small and very petite african-american woman who was had just barely turned 18.
She was an astonishingly attractive young black woman with a model-like face and an incredible bikini model's figure that makes every woman around her look and feel less attractive.
Her frame was unusually petite, yet ample and shapely with a trim waist and moderately large breasts for her small size.
Alexis is 4'11" tall and 95 lbs. with a 32c-21-33 figure.
One can easily see that her body was so obviously well-toned and femininely-athletic. I would later discover that this came from her many years in gymnastics, ballet, cheerleading and modern dance. Her body seemed so strong and powerful for her petite size. Yet, it was exceptionally feminine. Her complexion was one of those absolutely flawless ones that ever woman dreams of.
Alexis Barron's medium to mocha brown skin tone captured her african-american and brazilian ancestry.
When I first saw her, it truly felt like I was looking at Halle Berry's younger and slightly-darker teenaged sister.
Words can hardly describe her beauty.
Alexis was, and is, a truly a stunning young woman. Her youthful appearance made her look as if she was much younger than her real age.
Now, she was standing there at the front desk of our lobby asking to see me.
My receptionist, Meghan, had called me to the front that day.
When I finally emerged from my office in the back I saw her standing there. I was more than a bit confused by her presence.
She seemed quite irritated by the fact that I had to make her wait for the 5 minutes that it took for me to finish my call and walk out to the front lobby.
In her hand, she was holding the same newspaper ad that I had placed the year before.
She asked if we were still looking for ambitious and driven people, as the ad stated. She extended her hand towards me and handed me a half-crumpled piece of paper.
Confused, I took the newspaper clipping from her hand and looked it over.
The ad clearly stated that I was looking for experience in the industry as well as "ambitious and driven" individuals. But, for some reason I did not mention that.
"This ad was from almost a year ago." I said.
"What made you come in for an interview today?" I asked pleasantly, in one of my softest whispers.
Her incredibly-beautiful face was already very stern and she seemed to become even more disturbed by that question.
I could not understand why.
At 6'1" tall, and in my 4 inch designer heels, I quite literally "towered" above this much smaller 4' 11" tall black woman.
Yet, for some reason I still felt intimidated.
Although she seemed so petite and fragile, and she was considerably smaller and younger than I was, she exuded such confidence. I was freezing up around her.
Alexis had these very serious and captivating, yet piercing eyes that looked directly into mine.
I just looked back at her meekly as she began to speak again.
"I called. I was told by the receptionist a year ago that I was too young for the job." She stated.
Timidly, I asked this very young-looking black woman what her age was now. She paused for a moment, then she finally told me.
"I'm 18." she said.
"Well, okay then." I stammered.
My eyes looked back down to the old advertisement that I had placed the year before as I contemplated what my next move would be.
There was a short and uncomfortable pause.
"I will remind you that asking my age is considered a form discrimination." Alexis boldly stated.
"Reminded me?" I thought to myself.
"I really had no clue about things like that. None, whatsoever!" I continued thinking.
I looked back down into this young, black woman's eyes once again. For a moment, I was unsure of what to say or do. It was as if she was swallowing my entire self-esteem, or what little of it I possessed.
"W-Well, we don't discriminate around here." I said, softly and in passing.
"I would hope not." Alexis abruptly returned.
I glanced down to Meghan, the receptionist, who remained sitting there at the front desk. My eyes briefly met hers and I'm sure she could tell that I was beginning to feel worried and concerned.
Meghan simply looked back down to the papers on her desk.
Once again, I looked back to the young black woman, who remained standing before me. She seemed even more impatient now.
"Pl-Please accept my apology for that." I quietly said.
I found myself stuttering.
Alexis was smartly-dressed. She wore a very short, but professional black skirt with a crisp, white blouse. She wore coffee-brown stockings or pantyhose that matched her skin tone, and the 4 inch black stilletto pumps she adorned matched her tight, black linen skirt.
Although I did not know what to do next in this type of situation, I began thinking about what my late husband would do.
Then, I remembered something he once told me about referrals. He used the term "courtesy interview" and made a reference to always "honoring an interview."
Back then, I remembered asking him what that meant. He described it as giving a person a quick interview with no intention of hiring them.
For some reason, that was the first thing that actually entered my mind.
I was quite nervous.
I graciously asked Alexis Barron to come into my office so we could talk. To me, this was going to be one of those "courtesy interviews" that I was suddenly remembering.
At the time, I knew that I couldn't afford another clerical salary with the way things were going.
I needed a manager.
But, I decided to run through the steps of the interview anyway and then hold out for a more experienced person.
As I escorted the young black woman through the front office lobby and back to where my office, I could feel many eyes curiously upon us. I could even see the other seven older white women looking over their shoulders towards us.
From a distance, I am sure they were wondering why I would even waste my time on interviewing such a young, black woman in the first place, especially one with no experience and one that I had no intention of hiring.
"Afterall, this was an all-white office. Wasn't it?" I'm sure they thought.
Trying to be this figure of authority had already become so overwhelming for me. Everyone looking to me for answers that I didn't have was putting a lot of pressure on me. I think that I cared more about their opinions than I should have.
I invited Alexis into my office and she took a seat at my side desk chair. This was the chair that I used for talking to my employees and going over reports. It was just off to the back left corner of my desk closest to my own chair.
Alexis handed me her resume as we sat down. I quickly looked it over and thought to myself that it was quite impressive.
Alexis Barron had just turned 18, yet she had already completed 2 years of college! She had exceptionally good grades and was involved in two outside junior professional organizations.
Both organizations were ethnically-oriented organizations - The Young Black Businesswomen of America Organization and The Future Black Female Leaders Organization.
Her resume revealed that she was a Committee member with both of these organizations.
As Alexis sat in this little chair off to the left side of my desk, I was still thinking of ways to move through the interview quickly. I continued to peruse her resume and began feeling even more intimdated and even outclassed.
She was amazingly bright with a near perfect grade point average, and in some of the most difficult business courses I ever knew.
Her extracurricular activities included gymnastics, ballet, modern dance, cheerleading and a myriad of other business-related groups.
I began thinking about how I had barely squeaked by with a 2.6 GPA in much easier coursework, yet I was still able to earn degrees in areas that were not nearly as impressive.
I also didn't have any activities outside of school, either.
Meekly, I apologized to Alexis again.
I was apologizing to her for not being taken seriously on the phone a year ago. I didn't know why I found myself apologizing to this much younger black woman so many times that day.
I could easily see that look of impatience beginning to resurface on her beautiful face. It was the same look she had shown in the front lobby. It was a look of impatience and obvious discontent.
It was as if she knew that I was stalling, again. I had this feeling that made me start to rush right through the interview. I began asking her simple, mindless and general questions about her future and the courses she enjoyed taking in school.
Admittedly, they were mindless questions. I had not put a lot of effort into thinking about what I should say to her, or what to ask.
That is when Alexis sternly interupted.
"Listen. Are these really the questions you need to know?" she began.
She paused as her voice grew a level firmer.
"If you have no intention of hiring me and saving your failing business then just say so!" She said.
"I don't have time for this bullshit." She snapped.
Nervously, I apologized to her.
I'm sure my face was red from embarrassment as I finally confessed to her that my business wasn't doing very well.
I told Alexis that I was still considering closing it by the end of the year, which was now less than seven months away. I explained that I didn't think there would be a future here at the company for someone like her, or anyone else for that matter.
There was a very long, uncomfortable silence right after I defeatedly confessed my failures.
My eyes were down on my desk and I finally glanced up so see the the younger black girl's mind running through what seemed to be a wide range of scenerios.
I remained as quiet as a lamb as my cheeks felt flushed. My face felt like it was getting more and more red by the second.
"Listen!" she began.
"I really don't care about what you think might happen. I need a job and I need one now!" she said.
Honestly, her confidence and boldness intimidated me.
"I'm smart. I don't accept failure and I am good at whatever it is I choose to do." she continued.
He tone was one of supreme confidence.
I became speechless as she seemed to be studying me a little closer.
Alexis continued to speak as I simply sat there motionless and quiet.
She went on to tell me that she would not be able to continue her education without a job. She stated that because she was black and very young there weren't as many opportunities out there for her.
Then, her attitude changed.
Unbelieveably, she began to tell me that the biggest problem I had with my business was that it was "too white."
I was startled by this sudden change in her voice.
She said that a black woman, like her, would make all the difference in the world.
I just listened, astonished and nearly insulted by what I was hearing, then I spoke.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I-I don't think race has anything to do with ..." I began to say.
"We'll see." she said.
Alexis went on to tell me that if I truly felt my business was going to fail then I had nothing to lose. She said it wouldn't matter. She then told me that I had an attitude of defeat and needed to make a change.
After listening, I felt as if I should ask another question.
"So, do you feel you would be an asset to this company then?" I asked.
I admit my response was a rather mindless and robotic one.
My dumb question appeared to insult her. She did not honor my question with an answer at all.
She paused, then began speaking again.
"Like I said, whatever I choose to do I will succeed." she stated.
The young black woman's tone remained firm.
My mind became a blur. She seemed so confident. She was so bold. Her assertiveness was very overwhelming and even intimidating, but it was also very convincing.
It was the manner in which she spoke that completely and totally mesmorised me. I don't know why. It just did.
As I thought about it I was still thinking that there was no way I can hire this much younger black woman. I just couldn't afford her. But, I also did not have the backbone to stand up to her and tell her that.
There was no way I could at that moment.
Somehow, I just blurted out another mindless response.
I asked Alexis if she could take 400 dollars a week as a salary and then we could go from there.
Deep down, I knew that all 7 other women in my office were making salaries of somewhere between 52,000 and 55,000 dollars annually.
Still, I offered the insulting salary to her. I did not know where this offer came from and I was almost confused by what I had just done.
Perhaps, I thought this young woman would take less money to start because that was all I had. Maybe, it was all that I was willing to lose at the time, on top of all my other losses?
I'm really not sure what I was thinking.
The stern face of this beautiful girl was making me feel much more uncomfortable as she thought about the weak and insulting offer I made to her.
She scowled a bit. Then, she accepted.
I was actually shocked by her acceptance.
Looking back, I now believe that Alexis knew exactly what she was doing. She must have known that I was unconsciously putting out such an insulting offer to dissuade her. Maybe, unconsciously I knew it would be an offer that she would never accept, or one that she would instantly refuse.
But, maybe she also knew that it was an offer that I would be unprepared to take back.
Nevertheless, Alexis Barron accepted the offer.
It was a Thursday around mid day during this interview and I told her that she could start the following Monday, if she wanted to.
Again, I was shocked by her response.
"Tomorrow!" she snapped.
"Wh-what?" I timidly asked.
"I said tomorrow." she repeated.
I looked at her confused.
I listened as she explained that there was no time to waste if things were going to change around here. Her increasingly abrupt tone gave me chills, and an uncomfortable feeling of nervousness that I can hardly describe.
She went on to tell me more about my poor attitude. She almost berated me on the reasons why this business was failing, and would ultimately fail if things didn't change.
She told me that being proactive is the only solution for this company. And, only a black woman could make this happen for us.
I had no words.
It was as if I was being scolded by her - scolded for my failures and for being white. I kept wondering if her purpose was to insult me because she obviously was doing just that.
Timidly, I simply absorbed the advice from her and just nodded.
She was probably right, although I felt embarrassed by being 40 at the time and listening to the advice of an 18 year old black woman.
"Well, okay." I finally stuttered meekly.
I simply gave in.
The teenaged african-american woman looked directly into my eyes for what felt like an eternity. Her stare lasted a few extra seconds longer than I felt comfortable with. Then, without further hesitation, she stood up and turned on her heels with the precision of a ballerina, and walked right out of my office.
She never once looked back.
I watched from my office window as Alexis Barron strutted right past everyone before heading out into the main office area, and through the front door.
She didn't say a single word. Nor, did she look at anyone else in the office. She boldly and smoothly walked past them without any concern.
I didn't know if what I had just done was a huge mistake, or not. Not then. Perhaps, I was desperate?
Maybe I was just too afraid to say no to someone like her.
Whichever reason it was, I would soon discover that this was just a mere glimpse of how my life would soon change.
That next day was a Friday.
I arrived at 8:15 that morning, which was a little later than my usual 8 o'clock start time. I had overslept and wasn't exactly in a rush to get to the office that day. I suppose that I still felt more than a bit nervous about my failing business, and my motivation continued to be in it's usual free fall status.
As I walked through the front door of my office I could see the befuddled looks on the faces of my older, all-white female staff. I spoke my usual morning greetings, but they were all very quiet and peering towards my office from the corners of their eyes.
Alexis was already there.
She was sitting in the same chair off to the side of my desk where I had interviewed her just the day before. She sat there with her right leg crossed and hanging over her left one, dangling one of her 4 inched stilletto black pumps from the very tips of her stockinged toes. Her right leg swung slowly, freely and gracefully as if she were waiting for a train.
Oddly enough, she was wearing exactly the same outfit that she wore from yesterday's interview.
As I entered my office, the teenaged black woman looked at her watch and asked me if I was running late.
"Well, yes. Yes I am." I said.
"How did you know?" I asked, inquisitively.
She didn't smile or speak lightly.
"I asked." She said, simply.
"Oh, Okay." I replied.
I had never been questioned about my time in or out of the office before. I had always put in my 40 hours a week.
"Afterall, it was my business. Wasn't it?" I thought.
I felt a wave of disrespect from that very first day, and in that very first moment of her very first day working for me.
It startled me.
Nevertheless, I tried ignoring her mildly rude comment and escorted Alexis to one of the desk cubicles in the middle of the open office area.
The office consisted of 3 glass door offices in my one-story building. I was the only person using one of the private officed. It was, by far, the largest of the three and the one my late husband once vacated - The Company President's office.
The rest of the staff sat in the general office area, which was a wide open area bordered off by cubicles without any walls.
I showed Alexis to her small desk and cubicle area.
"Damn! Why is it so dead and quiet in here?" she firmly asked.
She was right.
But, I was a little more than taken back by the boldness of her comments as I attempted to explain.
My response was an excuse, and a lame one at that.
"Well, everyone is going over their lists of customers and planning their calls for the day. They're going to make calls to bring in new sales, and they're getting things together before they start their calls. That's what we've been doing and ..." I kept explaining.
"Is it?!" she interupted, again.
"Well, I don't hear any phones ringing. Just a dead zone with a bunch of old stiffs sitting around and all that boring ass music coming from the ceiling." Alexis ripped.
I tried to ignore her now blatantly rude comments and concentrate more on getting her started.
It was obvious the others overheard her comments.
Alexis was provided with a long list of our customers, both current customers and the old customers we had lost business to in the past few years. I explained to her that we have all been calling our former customers first and then checking on our current customer's recent order volume. I explained that we have been trying to get more sales because that's what we needed to do.
Then, I introduced her to the rest of the staff during a qick group meeting. I made an announcement in front of everyone. But, they did not welcome her in the way they would have normally welcomed any other new employee.
I showed Alexis how to use her new computer and showed her where to find the powerpoint presentation that would help explain everything about our product line of perfumes.
I instructed her to learn them.
We only had 6 named brands of bottled perfume at the time. Years ago, they had sold so well but recently sales had dropped several hundred percent.
When Meghan called me over to take an incoming call, I cut my introduction short and began to excuse myself.
Alexis stopped me before I could take my second step away from her.
"One question." she started.
I turned and hesitated.
"Y-Yes?" I asked.
She flipped through the first few pages of the large, 40-page list of customers that I handed her. Her gorgeous face now resembled one of a pirate's scowl.
"How long have you been doing this?" She asked.
"Oh my god. Forever. About 2 years." I answered.
"Why?" I asked.
I was standing there in anguish, knowing that I still had that call waiting for me. Yet, Alexis wasn't in any big hurry to respond.
I felt like I needed to say something.
"Why?" I asked, again.
After another 10 second pause she answered.
"Nothing. Never mind." she replied in an off-toned voice of near disgust.
I simply did not know how to handle her attitude at the time. For whatever reason, I tried to pretend to be something that I was not. I tried to be firm.
"Well. That's what I hired you for so just do it. Thank you!" I said.
It was the firmest tone I had ever used in my life. It was a tone that I had never heard from my own lips, and I surprised myself by it.
But, then I turned and cowardly walked away, retreating to my office to take the call from what I was hoping would be a prospective sale.
That call turned out to be a bill collector and it lasted a mere 3 minutes.
Still, I stayed in my office cowering over this brief but overwhelming encounter that I just had with my new employee, Alexis Barron.
I was never good at confrontations.
This may seem like a minor verbal exchange for most, but for me it was quite intimidating. I hid in my office making calls and looking over the multitude of bills the entire day, and avoiding her.
Near the end of Alexis' very first day, just 10 minutes before closing, Ginny tapped on the glass door to my office and I waved her in.
"Miss Burroughs? Gretchen?" she started.
"Yes, Ginny? What is it?" I asked.
She had this very concerned look on her face and seemed distraught over something.
Ginny was one of the seven women working for me before Alexis' arrival, which made us a company of eight. She had been with the company for 13 years, ever since she came to work for my late husband.
Ginny was a divorced white woman who was 56 years of age, and still quite attractive. She had kept her 5'10" 140 lb. frame in rather good shape over the years, and her slightly greying hair was partially hidden by an inexpensive blonde dye.
As Ginny stood before my desk I could easily see that she was becoming reluctant to say what was on her mind.
She seemed almost scared.
Her personality had always been very timid and shy, and I understood these feelings, but she had never really hid her feelings from me like this before.
"Ginny? What is it? Tell me!" I asked.
Ginny grew more nervous and she took a deep breath as she began to speak.
"Well, I don't want to get into any trouble ..." she started.
I became frustrated.
"Ginny, please?! Tell me already. You're not going to be in any trouble from me. You know that." I said.
The 56 year old woman began to whisper.
"No. I'm not worried about that that kind of trouble, Ms. Burroughs." she softly said.
I wasn't sure exactly why she was so worried then, but my curiosity and concern were the only things on my mind. I just wanted to know what she had to say.
"Ginny, please?" I prompted, again.
"Well, the others voted for me to talk to you. They're all complaining about ..." she said, then stopped.
"What others?" I asked.
"Complaining about what?" I inquired.
Now, I was even more concerned about what this complaint could be.
"The others. I mean, all of us. Well, all of us except Alexis, the new girl." she confessed.
Ginny went on to explain that my new hire, Alexis Barron, wasn't doing what she was told to do. She explained that the younger black woman wasn't really doing anything at all.
"What do you mean, Ginny? She had to be doing something. What has she been doing all day then?" I asked.
Ginny stopped talking for a moment.
"For Christ's sake, it almost 5 now. Why didn't anybody come to me sooner?" I said a little louder, yet controlled whisper.
Ginny finally continued.
She told me that Alexis did not make one single call to a customer all day. Rather, she sat at her desk with her feet propped up and was talking on the phone with her friends.
She added that she had taken a lunch and did not sign in or out, and she had been gone for almost 3 hours. Furthermore, she didn't even watch the presentation of our product line, which was what she was supposed to do.
Ginny told me that Alexis used the computer to check her personal email on the internet every half hour.
I was beginning to get upset.
Ginny began to cry and I tried to comfort her.
"Listen, Ginny. Just go home. It's only a few minutes before 5 o'clock now and it's a Friday. There's not much more you can do today. I'll take care of this right away, okay?" I told her.
"O-okay, Ms. Burroughs." Ginny sobbed.
I thanked Ginny for summoning up the courage that it took to come to me and to tell me what was going on in my office. Then, as she headed out of my office, I asked her to tell Alexis that I will be out to talk to her in a few minutes, and to please wait for me.
"Yes, okay Ms. Burroughs. I will." Ginny answered.
I watched Ginny walk swiftly from my office and then bend over to say something to Alexis. She then suddenly grabbed her purse from her own desk and nearly ran out the door.
I was so upset.
On the inside, I really wanted to give this younger black woman a piece of my mind. I didn't like the way she was upsetting the others, and on her first day of work too?!
"How dare she?" I asked myself.
Just hearing that she essentially ignored what I had told her to do was enough to make me upset.
But, I was also afraid to confront her.
I had no idea how I was going to approach this black teenager to discuss these allegations. Yet, I also knew that it was my responsibility as the owner and the President of this company to do so.
I took a few deep breaths and stalled for a few minutes longer before I made my way over to her desk.
But, she wasn't there!
Nobody in the office was!
I looked at my watch and it was exactly 5 o'clock. Usually, there would be a little lingering after five and the fact that I thought Ginny had specifically told Alexis to wait for me made me wonder.
That infuriated me, but I also thought I would have to make sure that Ginny actually told Alexis to wait for me, like I instructed her to do.
I looked up Ginny's number on my cell phone and called her.
"Ginny? This is Gretchen. I didn't see Alexis out there by her desk. Did you see her?" I asked.
"Yes. Yes, I did." she said.
"Did you tell her to wait for me, Ginny?" I asked.
Ginny seemed extremely nervous talking to me.
"Yes. Yes, I did tell her Ms. Burroughs. I told her right away. Just as you asked me to." she answered.
My face was feeling so flush by now.
"Ginny. What did she say when you told her to wait for me." I asked, inquisitively.
There was a longer, almost deafening silence between our cell phones. I had thought I lost the signal for a moment.
"Ginny?" I asked again.
"Tell me now. What did Alexis say?" I probed.
She finally spoke.
"Ms. Burroughs, she just said one word ... She said ... whatever." Ginny answered.
I could not believe what I was hearing.
I excused Ginny from the call and drove home so upset that I could hardly stay on the road.
All night I planned over and over again, in my mind, how I was going to approach this young black girl.
I planned what I was going to say to her.
After much deliberation I decided that I was just going to fire her and be done with it.
But, the next day was Saturday and we never worked Saturdays. Not ever.
Usually, I would sleep in until around 10 on the weekends and then get some things done around the house.
But, then I was awakened by a call on my cell at precisely 8 o'clock in the morning!
It was a number that came up as "unknown caller."
When I answered it, I heard this firm voice.
"Where the hell is everyone? It's 8!" the voice snarled.
"Who is this? Alexis, is that you?" I asked in my half-asleep state.
"Yes it is!" she said.
I sat up onto the edge of my bed and was just beginning to remember how rudely she had ignored my request to speak to her yesterday.
I heard her voice again.
"Don't tell me that y'all don't work on Saturdays." she said in a condescending voice.
I was still barely awake and already getting upset.
"No. We are closed on the weekends, Alexis." I began.
"But, I wanted to talk to you anyway. Why did you leave yesterday? I-I ... " I continued, my voice now stuttering and cracking.
But, that is when this teenaged black woman interupted.
"Not on the phone!" she said.
That is when she abruptly "clicked" her cell phone off.
I couldn't believe how this teenager had just hung up on me in such a rude way?!
Since her call came up as unknown, I couldn't even call her back.
I became so frustrated that I went all the way into my office on that Saturday to get her number from the resume she had left me. I was so determined to call her back just to give her a piece of my mind.
But, it turned out to be a disconnected number.
This entire event was making me more than upset now. I was more upset than I had ever been in my entire life. I convinced myself that I was going to march right in there that next Monday morning and let her go. She had been so rude and mean to me that I could hardly even believe it.
These feelings of aggravation lasted the remainder of the weekend. They were growing stronger with every passing hour. The way that I was being so disrespected like this was a feeling that made me want to do something drastic.
When I woke up on Monday morning these feelings were still there.
But, these feelings began to fade as I drew nearer to the office. I suddenly grew nervous and concerned. I began to fear any type of confrontation. I didn't have any desire to make a scene, especially in the presence of my entire staff.
I couldn't explain how I was feeling.
I knew, deep inside, that this was just an excuse that I was making so I wouldn't have to confront this very intimidating younger black woman.
When I finally arrived I simply scurried off to my office like the coward I was, and I avoided the entire situation altogether.
I was not proud of my actions.
I think the 7 white women of my staff were all surprised that young Alexis was still there that following Monday morning. I wasn't sure what they were thinking, but the looks on their faces seemed to be ones of true disappointment.
I tried reasoning with myself that maybe this would give me a little more time to figure things out. I wasn't sure what I should say to her and I simply didn't have any courage or backbone to approach.
Not at this time.
My actions were those of a cowardly, insecure and timid leader. They were not the actions of a company owner and President.
It was becoming terribly embarrassing for me.
Things went on just like that during Alexis' entire first full week of her employment.
Each day, she would arrive at 8 o'clock and grab her coffee, then sit there with her feet up on her desk. She would talk on the company phone while texting on her personal cell.
She never once talked to any of our customers and she had the internet up on her computer, conveniently turned to her email screen for the entire day.
Furthermore, Alexis was taking lunches anywhere from 2 to 3 hours everyday. Not once did she sign in or out as she was instructed to do.
Alexis did not speak to the others and, in return, they never spoke to her. She seemed to be in her own little world sitting out there and doing whatever she wanted to do.
It just seemed like this small black woman was somehow rubbing all this in my face.
There were times when Alexis would strut around the office on her 4 inched black heels as if she owned the place. She would be talking to what seemed like girlfriends on her cell phone for hours at a time.
By the end of the day on Thursday, every one of the 7 white women of my staff had approached me at one time or another that afternoon.
All of them complained about Alexis and were there to ask me what I was going to do about her.
They all complained about how "lazy" Alexis was, and how she was wasting so much time doing nothing.
They complained about her talking with her friends on the phone and on the internet, and in chat rooms.
They all complained how "rude" she was being to them and all the "mean" things she was saying about us, and about our company.
These were words the others overheard as she talked to her friends on the phone.
They even made mention that Alexis always wore the exact same outfit every single day, and that her feet always smelled funny when she kicked off her shoes into the corner of her cubicle.
My entire staff complained that she always had her feet up on her desk like she was some sort of executive.
I didn't know how to answer them, except that I would be taking care of it very soon.
One of the women who approached me was Beth, a 48 year old woman, who was the only one of my employees to come see me twice.
Beth was the one who made the specific allegations of Alexis saying "mean" things about us.
Beth was an attractive, slightly heavy set divorced woman of 5'9" and just under 200 lbs. She was, perhaps, the one who seemed most distraught over Alexis' recent employment with our company.
She seemed to become even more withdrawn since the young, black woman began working for us in just this short period of time of a week.
Like the others, Beth really didn't want to tell me too much. It seemed as if Alexis had been so disruptive and had caused so much fear in them. Although they all felt compelled to mention things to me, none of them wanted to fully elaborate on the things they were complaining about.
I had to nearly beat it out of Beth to find out exactly what all these "mean things" were, which Alexis was saying on the phone.
Beth finally conceded.
"Well, she said things about you too, Ms. Burroughs." Beth said, softly.
I was irritated but also quite nervous. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to hear all this, or not.
"Like what?" I asked.
"Well, she said things like you were a complete idiot ... and that you were a pathetic excuse for a boss ... things like that." Beth nervously confessed.
"Sh-She said what?" I asked. "What else?"
My mind was already racing.
"She told her friend that we were all just a bunch of dumb white bitches, and things like that." Beth described.
I told Beth to go back to her desk now.
I thanked her for telling me and then I told her that I would try and talk to Alexis today.
There were so many feelings running through my mind by then. I was so upset, maybe even mad. But, I was also quite nervous and afraid because I didn't know how I was going to handle this.
I had planned on speaking to Alexis that Thursday. I really wanted to.
I wanted to ask her about all these allegations that I was hearing, but I wanted to ask her without letting her know who was telling me about them.
In a small office like ours I knew that would be a difficult task.
But, I could not summon enough courage to talk to her that Thursday. Rather, I just stayed in my office the last few hours of the day and wasted any and all opportunity that I had to speak with Alexis Barron.
I decided that I would have to speak to her the next day, on Friday, and I would do this at the end of the day when she would come into my office for her weekly check.
Again, I wasn't proud of how I was handling all of this. But, I thought this could be the perfect time to finally do it.
Being a timid boss was embarrassing enough, but to allow a teenager to get away with all that she was doing was far beyond what anyone else would tolerate.
When Friday arrived, I finished my routine of cutting the checks in my office. At the end of the day, and like every other Friday, my employees would come into my office to get their checks. We would exchange pleasantries before the weekend and I would hand them their pay checks for the two week pay period.
As I was cutting the check for Alexis Barron, I thought about paying her for just the one day she worked last week and this week's earnings would be paid in two weeks.
Typically, this is what I would have done.
But, against my better judgement, I made out a check for Alexis for the full two weeks.
I did this only because I knew that I was going to let her go. I figured this would soften the blow of her termination a little. I also did not want her coming back in another 2 weeks for her last paycheck.
As always, my employees came in for their checks starting around 5 minutes before 5 p.m.
But, this pay period was different from all the others.
One by one, my white female employees came in and I handed them their paychecks. None of them would make eye contact with me.
Not one of them.
They all held their eyes downward, looking at the floor, and they all seemed so sad.
Perhaps, they were still saddened that Alexis Barron was still there?
It was almost as if they were disappointed that I had not spoken to this insolent new employee, and that she had not been terminated by now. Perhaps, they were even humiliated by the fact their cowardly boss had not taken any appropriate action against her.
Tags : bondage,femdom,story,book
I laid on the floor of Shirley's living room, still worn from the session and still in disbelief that my immediate future had been planned by my new mistress and my aunt. I was now a sex slave and I was going to be used whenever, and however, they pl ...
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(As ever, if what you're after is deep plots and twists and turns, no, you won't find that here. Pure and simple smut, from the, erm, heart).
Okay, you, it's true.
I said it and I meant it. Since y ...
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I stepped in the house to find my father sitting in the large armchair with a pipe in his mouth. My father wasn't really a smoker. He only did it when he was stressing, and most of the time it was because of me.
"It's nearly nine o'clo ...
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I thought it over in my head a million times. How the fuck did this happen? Why would Beth do this? Would she really follow through with her threats of showing people the video? How would I explain this to my frat brothers?
"Hi, I am ...
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Part 1- Returning Home to Hit It Raw
She faintly felt the expensive silk sheet being whipped away from her naked form. Her eyes fluttered open, struggling to adjust to the darkness of her spacious bedroom. The clock promised sev ...
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