Ashleigh and the Governess, Ch. 9

Ash was so thrilled to be seeing Chelsea that he could overlook the preposterous costume they had him wearing when he performed his cleaning visit. Yusra had dressed him like a ballet maid: a white Mirella leotard combined with a three-layer net boneless skirt made of white tulle fabric. It was more of a short petticoat than a skirt – a distinction that the boy had learned from his countless hours of mind-numbing education on the minutiae of women's clothing. He did not have tights on, and his footwear consisted of some pink Bloch ballet shoes that he had scavenged from the innumerable pairs he had cleaned using his mouth. Like all the shoes they assigned him, these ones were 'well loved' and it made him constantly uncomfortable to have his feet rubbing up against the imprint of a woman's soles all the time.
	He put the usual care into his hair and makeup, and the results were very on-point. He had been acting as a makeup artist for Elizabeth for some time now, once she got used to the convenience of having someone else do it for her. Having Ashleigh as an assistant helped her shoot her influencer content much faster, and Elizabeth enjoyed that sort of pampering in general.
	Ash was daydreaming on his way over to Chelsea's apartment. Aleksandra was shuttling him over there in her Mercedes, and the imperious woman made a big fuss about being inconvenienced by having to give him a ride. It took conscious effort for Ash not to smile, seeing Aleksandra as she was. His stepmother had been binge watching some reality TV show about a family of rich Lebanese women throwing money around, and she had been watching it for days now. She used to be dismissive of 'trash TV' like this, but here she was sitting around in a white bridal robe watching one episode after another without aspiring to do much else.
	She didn't even put on any more clothes before she got in the car, just some white backless slippers. They made quite a pair dressed in their eye-catching costumes while the world went on around them. Ash took particular notice of the men in suits that were walking by, until one of them looked back. Then he felt deeply embarrassed as he realized it looked like Aleksandra was giving her dolled up daughter a ride to a ballet recital. Many people checked them out and it really got on his nerves and made him feel exposed. He started dwelling on the fact that he was hoping to impress Chelsea by his hair and makeup – so different from the way these men in suits impressed the women they'd eventually fuck and marry.
	Then he thought of having sex with Chelsea and he panicked because he knew what would happen. Beneath the white satin fabric, his cock started to get hard. It was pinned against his body, facing upwards, and the erection was met with a pain like stinging nettles so bad he squirmed in his seat. He reflexively looked down at Aleksandra's feet as they pressed the petals; she had taken the slippers off because she liked to drive barefoot. She smirked when she caught him staring at her feet.
	"You will clean these pedals for me this evening when you get home. Do the tires as well. Get in between all the grooves, too. Make sure you finish by kissing the gas and brake pedals, you forgot to do that last time and I felt it."
	"Yes, Miss Lipka."
	 "You understand that the Sisters have already spoken with Chelsea, yes? She will follow all of our rules. She will not rescue you."
	"I will enjoy working for her," he replied cautiously, "Thank you for helping me to arrange it."
	Aleksandra chuckled to herself. She reached down and picked up her slippers, tossing them into his lap.
	"Hold on to these, so you don't have to stare at my feet," she explained,
	"That way you can look out the window... I want you to see what you're missing."
	Ash bit his teeth together but tried not to give any visible sign of displeasure. Of course she would try to ruin this for him with a comment like that! But he just ignored it and found himself looking wistfully at people as they lived out their normal lives. They drove in silence for a while.
	"But you do have one thing to look forward to," she told him,
	"Chelsea has volunteered to help us test your chastity device."
	Ash felt his heartbeat double.
	"What do you mean?" he asked.
	The Ukrainian beauty gave him a grin.
	"You will discuss that with her," was all she said.
	Chelsea owned a duplex and she lived in the upstairs unit, and rented out the one on bottom. Her tenants were sunbathing in bikinis on their front lawn – two white girls, one blonde and one brunette. They were both very pretty; it was difficult for him not to stare at their legs or the sides of their boobs pressing up against their beach towels. Ash found it embarrassing to walk past these attractive young women, dressed as he was. They were staring at him from the moment he got out of the car. They wore designer sunglasses and had bored expressions on their faces.
	They didn't speak to him, but their eyes followed him all the way past the walkway and up the stairs. The blonde girl said something in a Slavic language to her friend and they both giggled.
	As he waited for Chelsea to answer the door, Ash noticed that he was feeling optimistic.
	"Hi Ashleigh!!"
	She hugged him right on the doorstep and invited him into her home. She was barefoot, wearing some frayed cheer shorts that she probably had since high school. They still fit her just fine, hugging her athletic butt and demonstrating the immodesty she could enjoy within the privacy of her own home – she would never wear them to the tea parlor.
	"Did you meet Clover and Emelija downstairs?"
	"I only walked past them."
	"Great, because I was wanting to ask you if you could clean their apartment too. They refuse to clean it to my standards, which annoys me because I own it, you know? I have it in their lease that they have to do it a certain way, but they don't... Nice girls, though. They're from Lithuania, although they can't go back. Do you think you'd be okay helping me with that?"
	Ash felt put on the spot, so he nodded his head and said he would be open to it. In fact, he didn't want to do it because he didn't like being seen outside the home dressed like this. But whenever a woman asked him something, his automatic response was to say 'yes.'
	"Great!!" Chelsea said, "You have no idea how much I appreciate that."
	She reached out and grabbed his arm, giving it an affectionate squeeze.
	"I'm so glad you could make it! Do you want to start in the kitchen, or the bedroom?"
	The fact that Chelsea was asking him in to her bedroom while holding on to his arm was a mixed message, to say the least. Even the touch of her fingertips could make his dick rock hard, and the symbiote was driving him mad with pain. He didn't so much as flinch.
	"The bedroom, please."
	Chelsea had a tastefully decorated apartment but her room was a mess. It reminded him of his girl friends who had been models and DJs: expensive designer clothes spilling out of duffel bags, mountains of shoes, enough laundry that it would take days to get through it all.
	"I don't know if there will be enough space to put away all these clothes," Ash said, honestly.
	"I know, I have a problem!" Chelsea joked, "But that's another reason I wanted you here. You can help me move all this downstairs, to store it down there."
	"You want me to put it in the apartment downstairs?" Ash asked, "I thought that the girls were renting that from you."
	"The lease agreement says I can do it," Chelsea said a little defensively,
	"Clover and Emilija are here seeking asylum. They could never afford the rent on that unit, so I give it to them at an affordable rate. To make up for the money I'm losing on that deal, I keep more control over the unit. They're really good sports about it, actually. I've been highly communicative with them all this time. They're fine sharing a room and they're happy that they can help me in return for all I've done!"
	Ash was unsure how to reply. This was making him see Chelsea in a different light. He couldn't understand how her tenants would be happy giving up the privacy of their own rooms, just so that their landlady could use their apartment as a storage unit. Maybe the girls had agreed to it, but they were probably feeling coerced and why would Chelsea be comfortable doing such a thing? She was an intelligent, liberal woman who ran a nonprofit to help people just like Clover and Emelija! Shouldn't she be able to see that she was putting them out?
	"Is that the first thing you'd like me to do?" Ash asked.
	"Actually, I want to talk about that device you have on your dick... I'm so tired of pretending I don't know about it. Is it hurting you right now?"
	He was caught completely off-guard.
	"Yeah, it hurts a little. But the blue balls hurt more than anything."
	The coquettish look that Chelsea gave him made his cock hurt even worse.
	"Let's see what we can do about that. They told me that the only way to make the pain go away is if you're touching my shoes. Will these do?"
	She picked up some beat-up old varsity cheerleader shoes and handed them to him. They must have started out as white, but were a deep grey color now. Parts of the leather had flaked off and the rubber treads had smoothed over from extensive use. Some of the dirt on them was very old, but some was fresh.
	"They're my old cheerleading shoes," Chelsea said, "I hadn't worn them in eight years, but to prepare for this I wore them every time I went outside for the past few weeks... I definitely got some looks. How do you like them?"
	 "They're nice," Ash replied.
	As soon as he took them in his hands, he felt more comfortable. He looked them over out of habit, and because it felt good and it seemed like that was what Chelsea wanted. Her last name was drawn in permanent marker on the inside of one of the sneakers, although much of the ink had rubbed off.
	"You were a cheerleader?"
	"I was the captain."
	"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."
	Chelsea laughed. Ash could smell that she shoes had been used – the comingled aroma of leather, sweat, feet and cotton that was near to an aphrodisiac for him at this point. Warmth pouring out of them. His cock was totally hard, but almost completely numb.
	"Take off your skirt," Chelsea said plainly.
	Ash nodded and unfastened the tule garment. Chelsea's eyes immediately went to his stiff dick, its outline clearly visible beneath the snow white leotard. This was such a different experience of having sex that Ash had no clue how to proceed. A year ago, this would be when he started kissing her and moving her towards the bed. But that's not what he could do right now, so he just stood there feeling rudderless and nervous.
	"That technology would be SO useful for my nonprofit," Chelsea said.
	"But I need to run some tests to see how it works."
	Ash looked at her.
	"What sort of tests?" he asked.
	"I've cleared it with Yusra and the Sisters already," Chelsea replied – her confidence helped Ash feel less awkward even if the mention of Yusra was sort of a buzzkill.
	"She told me that I could do some tactile experiments with it... But that I can only use my feet."
	"What?"
	The pent-up sexual frustration made it hard to discuss this clearly. He wanted intimacy, but not in the way she was offering. He was frightened that he would say something stupid and invite punishment onto himself. He was much more comfortable letting Chelsea take the lead, so he indicated that he was okay with this.
	"There's a particular way we have to do this. First, I want you to kowtow to me. Do you know how to do that?"
	Ash nodded and assumed that humiliating position on his hands and knees, with his face touching the floor about even with his forearms. This was a ritual that Dasha had brought to the house, and she liked for him to do it for her sometimes, like when she got out of a new moon bath. Soon Ash's made-up face was inches away from Chelsea's pedicured feet, their subtle aroma reminding him of the shoes, now discarded.
	"I've always wanted people to do this to me," Chelsea said to herself.
	"It makes me feel so powerful."
	After she had enjoyed it for a few moments:
	"Now I want you to crawl underneath my desk over there. Put your back against the wall and sit so that your knees are spread apart. There's some of my ankle socks inside of those shoes – pull them out before you go."
	With trembling hands, Ashleigh retrieved the dirty balled-up ankle socks that were smushed down against the toebox like she hadn't worn them, but stuffed them in the shoes to create some padding around her toes. The sharp odor hit his nostrils right away, and he knew that these socks had been in those shoes for quite some time. They were caked with dirt that gave them a gritty, hard texture.
	Once he was in position, she moved her white leather chair back and leaned down to talk to him.
	"Is this moving too fast? You can get out from there if you want..."
	Ash shook his head and she gave him a reassuring smile.
	"Great! So I'm going to be up here working from home: replying to emails and writing more of my book. While I do that, you'll sit down there to keep my feet warm. But we also need to study how the device responds to touch. So while I do my work, I'll be sort of playing with your cock with my feet, and my toes. If you're holding the socks, it shouldn't hurt. Right?"
	"Right."
	That was the end of the conversation. She moved her chair up and rested both of her feet on either of Ash's thighs. They were a bit cold at first, but warmed up against him. Why had he agreed to all of this? It was agonizing already! This was super intimate but he would never be able to cum – it was like some twisted lapdance!
	"I used to have a space heater beneath my desk to keep my feet warm but I like this a lot more!" she joked to herself.
	"Okay I'm going to touch it now. Let me know if it hurts."
	Then she jabbed his cock with the ball of her foot with enough force that it felt like she had badly overestimated the distance she needed to travel. The symbiote went to work right away, amplifying the sensation. Every place her foot touched, it felt like some blend of icy and hot alternating between each other in a heavenly way. Pinpricks of electricity were mixed in – it was a truly new sensation. It felt unnaturally good. So good that it started to hurt. The pleasure was hurting him, but he wasn't sure if he wanted it to stop!
	With each moment he was drifting away from that first good feeling and more squarely into the realm of pleasure-torture. Chelsea's movements weren't to blame, she was being gentle enough when she slid his cock between both arches, or when she wriggled her toes against his scrotum.
	"Aah!" Ash cried out, when he was too sensitive to go any further.
	"What happened?"
	"It started to hurt. But it hurts in a weird way. Like I don't want it to stop."
	"That's very good to know. Do you have my socks up against your face? That might help, if you're not doing it already."
	It was an easy decision to put her ankle socks up against his lips. After all the cleansing masks and exfoliating facials that Aleksandra made him do, he was highly sensitive to the rough bits of gunk and grime that were caked onto the socks. It struck him as ironic that he had cleaned and beautified his face, only to press it against dirty footwear.
	"Are you ready to try again?"
	"Yes."
	This time, she was a little more forceful in the way she 'helped calibrate the symbiote.' Whereas before, she was using lighter touches – stroking up and down the shaft only for a little while, now she just kept on pressing down on his dick again and again. Down, and with a quarter-turn stroke to the right like she was stepping out a cigarette slowly. With her old socks up close to his face, the sensation went back to unbridled pleasure. He could tolerate the bitter, acrid aroma from Chelsea's socks because it felt so good what she was doing with her feet.
	"I saw you at Davos years ago," Chelsea said.
	"I know exactly who you are, Ashleigh Caldwell. I can't believe how much you've changed... But you hate every minute of it, don't you?"
	Ash gave no reply. He couldn't answer that question honestly.
	"Answer me."
	She gripped the head of his cock between her toes and squeezed it gently. But the effect was magnified and changed so that it felt like a slashing pain. It made him think of a knife and the sensation was so alarming that he found it impossible to lie. Chelsea was interrogating him – so many of his misconceptions of her fell away.
	"Yes. I hate it!" he admitted.
	"That didn't take very much."
	She eased up a little bit. She rested her foot on top of his crotch, motionless, but with a firm amount of pressure to keep him pinned down. He knew that if he tried to make a run for it, the symbiote would activate and it would be like dragging his cock through a venemous cactus patch.
	"Normally I would have just stolen this technology. But Yusra scares me."
	"Why are you telling me this?" Ash snapped,
	"If it was this easy for you to get the truth out of me, don't you think Yusra will get the truth out of me just as easily when she asks me where you stand? And that's assuming that she's not listening to this conversation right now through a microphone somewhere."
	"She doesn't have this apartment bugged, first of all," Chelsea replied,
	"But that's good information. How about... you stop worrying so much about what I'm doing? Sit on your hands."
	To facilitate this command, Chelsea moved her foot up towards his mouth. By touch alone, she found where he was holding her socks. Then she used the ball of her foot to press the socks against his nose, freeing his hands from doing this job so that he could sit on them. Her other foot, she was wiping it back and forth against the underside of the tip of his cock. Every moment felt incredible.
	"Yusra will be happy that I helped her test this device," Chelsea said, "And you're about to hate me. No matter what happens, keep your hands beneath your legs."
	Then she took his cock between her big and second toe and started jerking it up and down. While it was still beneath the fabric of his outfit, the symbiote lubricating itself internally to make it all the better. There was no doubt in his mind that he was about to cum – he felt the beginnings of ecstasy that he hadn't felt in months. But then his cock went numb and Chelsea pulled away her feet. He tried to reach for his cock – symbiote or no, it would only take one more stroke to get him over the edge. But as soon as he shifted his body weight, his scrotum was gripped with a pain that was even worse than being left on the razor's edge of an orgasm.
	To his absolute dismay, the symbiote shuddered a little bit around his cock, enough that some of his cum dribbled out but without any of the good feelings that always came with ejaculation. It was just a ruined orgasm. He was so frustrated that he wanted to scream, and his anger was amplified a million times by the fact that he just passively allowed Chelsea to use his face as a footrest the whole time! She had a nimble way of moving, which made it look like this was all a silly game for her. Sometimes she would giggle to herself, usually right when she pulled away and heard his agonized groans.
	The process repeated. Again. And again. Chelsea would tease him for a while, then start jerking him off, then pause and pull back at the exact wrong moment and the symbiote would do the rest. It was pure torment, especially because she would place her foot on his pelvis to make sure he wasn't bucking forward to try to stimulate himself that crucial bit. Now he understood that there were worse things than total celibacy. He cursed Aleksandra and Yusra, but he also cursed himself for having a crush on Chelsea to begin with.
	"Well, that was very productive. We will need to do this again soon... Are you ready to get to work?"
	Ash nodded.
	"Put your skirt back on. I've decided that I DO want you to move all my clothes downstairs today. And tell the girls to go back indoors. I don't want them sunbathing for too long."
	Ash had that exhausted, spent feeling that he associated with having an orgasm, but without any of the pleasant emotions. He tossed her socks into the hamper and disdained the self-satisfied look she gave him, like she defied him to speak out about what just happened. He didn't expect to resist her; he would spend the rest of the day doing domestic labor for her instead. The first step was to awkwardly go downstairs and tell the Lithuanian girls that Chelsea wanted them back inside. They weren't happy with the news, and whispered some bitter remarks as they folded up their towels and went back to their apartment.
	"Please follow us inside. I will show you where you will be putting Miss Chelsea's clothes."
	It was Clover who said that to him, the blonde tenant. They showed him in and Ash was immediately struck by how corporate the place seemed. It was decorated like a business rental, not a home that people lived in long-term. Another thing he noticed was that they had cameras hanging from the ceilings, and home assistant devices on many surfaces – the sort that are always listening in because they are voice-controlled.
	"It is the larger bedroom, at the end of the hallway."
	Clover sat with Emilija and they watched television together. They didn't seem to have a great selection of channels, and settled on a very old sitcom that neither one was very interested in. He spent the next few hours setting up garment racks in the bedroom then hauling Chelsea's clothes down there. He noticed that in the apartment, they spoke English to each other which was unexpected. A couple of times, they would accidentally begin a sentence in Lithuanian only to switch over English after giving a reproving glance at one of the home assistants. He also saw that they had on matching bracelets / fitness trackers. They reminded him of his house arrest collar – if the girls went outside, would it notify Chelsea?
	Clover and Emilija spoke softly to each other and they didn't seem to own smartphones. He couldn't really hear what they were saying. But whenever Chelsea got up and moved around her apartment upstairs, it was very loud throughout this apartment. He could hear each of her footsteps, and could even tell if she were barefoot or in slippers. For Ash, it was arousing hearing Chelsea's footsteps (the response was involuntary, and in spite of the resentments he bore her) and he realized the noise would be somewhat annoying if he lived down here.
	"What do you do for work?" Ash asked them at one point to break the ice,
	"You are too loud!" Emilija replied, and put her finger up to her lips, "Miss Chelsea does not like to hear us talk very loud."
	"Sorry."
	"We are unemployed. Back in Lithuania I was a chemical engineer and Clover was in marketing. But here, it is more profitable for Chelsea's nonprofit to have us remain unemployed for tax purposes. We take these television surveys to pass the time."
	"Why do you dress that way?" Emilija asked him.
	"My stepmother likes me to."
	They both laughed at this reply which made him blush. He saw that there was a small webcamera on the coffee table that was trained towards the women while they watched the television. It reminded him of that candid camera show he couldn't remember the name of.
		"It is cute. You have nice legs for it," Emilija decided.
	They couldn't talk much more. Chelsea wouldn't allow Ash an idle moment any more than Yusra or Aleksandra would. But he did discover the way that Chelsea wanted them to clean the apartment: using Q-tips to detail the baseboards every week, that level of excruciating detail.
	He wondered why she bothered to trick him into coming over to her apartment, when she could have just commanded it. Throughout the day, she was as friendly to him as she had always been, offering him effusive praise for helping out and giving him such bright smiles that it was hard for him to hold a grudge. Although she examined his work on the floor the same way that Marisol did – by sliding her bare foot across its length to check to see if there was any dirt – Chelsea would clap her hands together and cheer him on, which made him feel good.
	 Chelsea made it clear she wanted that same behavior out of Ash that he had already shown her: he was to keep acting like a supplicating friend, a follower with a girlcrush on her. That was painful for Ash because now he was pantomiming an emotion he used to feel sincerely. The longer he politely listened to her work and her opinions, the more he fell into that role. And now, whenever he looked at her bare feet he was reminded of being beneath her desk. When would she send him down there again? Why was it so hard for him to tell if he was dreading it, or looking forward to it?
	"I'm warning you about Yusra. I think you should stay away from her. You will lose." Ash said to Chelsea much later in the day, towards the end of his visit.
	This sudden outburst caught her by surprise. It had taken him hours to work up the courage to say it out loud. He spent much of the time debating on whether he should 'save' someone who was so mean to him.
	"I think you need to go back beneath the desk for round two!" Chelsea said, giving him an inscrutable expression although her lips and her eyes were smiling.
	Then she got up and walked to her room, and the only sound was footsteps echoing through the duplex as he followed her. Then the sound of a chair sliding back, and a person getting into position. Then soft moans and the whisper of bare feet sliding against satin and latex mixed with the occasional giggle and a low, frustrated sigh.