The Ashworth Women

This is part two of The Ashworth Woman, which came as a bit of a surprise, and it certainly pays to read the original first.

The following is a work of complete fiction.

The characters that inhabit these pages are themselves entirely fictional. If you are unsure what that means, let us make it simpler.

They do not exist, never have, and never will and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, whether by name or by description, is purely coincidental and unintentional.

It should go without saying that the writer does not condone behaviour such as those exhibited within these pages and believes that corporal and psychological punishment, as depicted herein, should neither be applied nor suffered at any time by anybody under any circumstances other than in a world of pure fiction.

Where the term girl is used, it is a derogatory label applied to an adult woman of eighteen years of age or older.

Everyone within this work of fiction is over the age of eighteen.

A small apology; I struggle with tags and categories so if any of it seems odd, then hopefully it becomes a learning opportunity.

If you do not like where my imagination has taken me, then it is your mistake to read it.

~~oOo~~

The Ashworth Women - Part two

Accountability and consequences.

~~oOo~~

At the start of Hannah's free period, she hurried down to the infirmary, where she met Leslie. Leslie shrugged off her white coat, and underneath, she was wearing embroidered hip-hugging flared jeans and a white cheesecloth shirt tied at her midriff, exposing her belly button.

They left through the staff door and went to the car park.

"This is my Roger," Leslie said.

"Roger?" Hannah laughed.

"Yes, Roger the Dodger, he nips about and can dodge in and out of tight spaces."

She was referring to a 1969 Cream-coloured Austin Minivan with just two seats in the front.

Leslie drove like a woman possessed, and Roger the Dodger lived up to his name.

In a very short time, they arrived at a large three-story building.

Mademoiselle Cecelia Dubois wasn't French and had a distinct northern accent with a laugh that could cut glass.

She was tall, skinny, and angular, dressed in a sharply tailored pinstripe suit and contrasting blood-red Dr Martens boots.

She explained to Hannah that the surname came from her Grandfather, who was French and settled in Durham after the Great War, to marry an English Girl who nursed him after the Somme.

She thought keeping the French connection would benefit business, and Hannah should call her Cilla.

She was all business and led Hannah and Leslie into a large mirror-lined fitting room.

"Remove your shirt and bra, Hannah, and I will measure you properly." She instructed.

Feeling more than a little self-conscious but knowing Leslie would keep her safe, she undid the buttons on her blouse.

Leslie had quietly stepped behind her and whispered, "Here, let me help." She took hold of Hannah's blouse, pulling it off her shoulders and down. Then she unclipped Hannah's White utilitarian bra, allowing her impressive breasts their freedom.

Now Hannah was just in her uniform skirt as Cilla walked back in.

Hannah's arm covered her chest, and Cilla instructed her to raise her arms as she did her measurements.

The tape measure dragged across her nipples, sending shivers down her spine, and Hannah couldn't help it when they began to swell.

If Cilla noticed, she didn't say a word. Then she placed the tape measure under Hannah's breasts, her hand grazing each side, then lifted each heavy globe, testing their weight in a deliberate action.

Cilla stood in front of the half-naked Hannah.

She took her two hands in her own, "Hannah, in my fifteen years of business, I have seen hundreds of naked chests. I want you to know that, without a doubt, you are the best I have ever seen. You are a stunningly beautiful young woman and should be proud of yourself. Now, as to your bra size. You measure in at a slender 31 chest, with a double D or maybe E cup. We shall try both to be sure."

Then Cilla said she would get some samples to try on and quickly left the two young women alone.

"See, I told you... you are beautiful and have the perfect figure. If Cilla says so, it must be true because she's worked with the best."

"Did you set her mmph-" Hannah's eyes widened as Leslie took hold of her chin and leaned in, kissing her mid-sentence. She stood frozen, her world revolving around the shock of warm lips against her own. Leslie pulled back a little, staring into Hannah's blue eyes, a smile on her face, seeing surprise but no resistance or rejection. Leslie leant forward again, planting another soft kiss on Hannah's lips. This time, it wasn't a quick peck; it was full-on and lingering. It only ended when they heard the door open.

Hannah was dazed; the kiss was so soft and incredible that she couldn't help the grin across her face.

As she entered the fitting room with a few boxes, Cilla noticed that both girls were smiling mischievously at each other. She didn't comment as she opened the top box, holding up a white bra.

"Arms up, Hannah," she instructed.

As Hannah raised her arms, Cilla slipped the garment from behind, over her arms and shoulders, and she reached behind Hanna, which brought her head close to Hannah's breasts as she settled the back, then she clipped the front together between Hannah's breasts. Then, without ceremony, she began touching, tucking, and smoothing the bra into place until she was satisfied.

She stood back, "This is the E Cup, perfect for daily wear. Your problem has always been your chest, not your cup. Most girls with your cup would be at least a 36, so mass-produced bras in your cup don't accommodate your smaller chest size. I have designed this one for comfort. It gives maximum support and lift. The shoulder straps are much broader and cross over the shoulder blades to distribute the weight more evenly, and they are also fastened in the front for ease of use. What do you think?"

Hannah was shell-shocked; she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Cilla had just rubbed and caressed her breasts, and it had made her quite breathless.

Leslie spoke, covering Hannah's embarrassment. "I think it looks fabulous. It's the perfect fit, and Hannah's figure is amazing."

"Good, Leslie, help Hannah out of the white and let's try another. This set is more for attraction." Cilla said before returning to the boxes and pulling out a deep red item.

Leslie had unclipped the front, helping the still-silent Hannah out of the white bra.

Hannah had barely registered what was said until Cilla returned holding up a sexy red bra.

"This is a Balconette style, and I decided on the double D. What do you think?" she asked.

Hannah finally snapped out of her daydream, "Oh, that is so pretty." She said, automatically raising her arms, wanting the attention.

Cilla fitted the bra, spending more time massaging Hannah, even brushing over her nipples and making them hard.

Leslie also joined in, gently running her fingers over Hannah's skin. "Hannah, you look stunning, so beautiful and sexy," Leslie whispered.

Hannah brought a hand up, fingering the lace and silk material of the bra. She had to admit to herself that she felt and looked fantastic.

While she was lost in her little world of red lace and deep cleavage, Cilla said, "Right off with the rest, matching knickers coming up."

Leslie didn't hesitate, immediately reaching to unbutton Hannah's skirt. It fell, pooling around her feet. Without stopping, Leslie's fingers were in the waistband of Hannah's plain white knickers, wriggling them down over Hannah's hips and down.

Without thinking, Hannah stepped out of them, and Leslie gathered the garments up, folding them onto Hannah's other discarded clothes.

Her situation must have dawned on her as Hannah suddenly exclaimed, "Oh," using her hands to cover her privates as her face went beat red.

Cilla looked at her, "Now, Hannah, let's not be a silly little girl. We are all women here, and I need to measure your waist and hips properly". With a tape measure and red knickers, she approached Hannah, walking around her.

She paused behind Hannah, her hand moving to caress her bottom, the ten raised red welts from yesterday's canning obvious. "How beautiful; I take it this is James's handiwork." She said, sounding almost reverential.

Leslie joined Cilla, her hand caressing Hannah's bottom, "Yes, it is a work in progress. We started yesterday. Hannah has been very courageous, and considering it was her first time under the cane, she performed well; I am proud of her."

Hannah felt that she had stepped into an alternative existence, surrounded by her half-naked reflection. Two women were touching, caressing and exciting her whilst talking rather strangely about her sore bum.

Then she felt the tape measure around her waist, "21 inches and perfectly flat; Hannah must work out?" Cilla said.

Before she could answer, Leslie piped up, "You know the college life, swimming, tennis, hockey, track and field; Hannah is an exceptional athlete and academically brilliant, the full package."

Cilla laughed, "Yes, I bet every other girl hates her and is jealous as hell". She then wound the tape measure around Hannah's hips. "30 inches. So we have 31 Double D, 21, 30. Hannah, how tall are you?"

Hannah hadn't realised she had been included in the conversation or asked, which took a slight slap on her bum from one of them. "Ah, five foot six." She exclaimed.

"Good, now put these on," Cilla instructed, pushing the flimsy red knickers into her hand.

Hannah quickly complied, glad to be covering up. As she brought them up her legs, settling them over her bottom and high on her hips, she found the material silky and very soft.

Hannah looked at her reflection and almost didn't recognise the sexy, grown-up woman looking back at her. She thought she looked amazing and couldn't believe the difference the new underwear made.

"You are a lovely young lady. You should be proud of who you are, Hannah," Cilla stated.

"Yes, I agree, totally sexy and gorgeous," Leslie said.

Hannah giggled, embarrassed at their praise despite the evidence of her own eyes.

"Right, I hate to have to do this, but we must return to the college. Lunch will be over soon, and Hannah has double English." Leslie said with authority.

"OK, there is a bag; put the worn lingerie in it. I will see you two girls in the shop," Cilla instructed as she left the fitting room.

As soon as the door closed, Leslie took Hannah into her arms and kissed her soundly. "You are bloody amazing, Hannah, and so damn sexy." Then she laughed, a joyous laugh and Hannah, despite her aroused state, couldn't help but laugh with her.

Leslie insisted on helping Hannah remove the red lingerie and dress back in her uniform, which involved even more touching and gentle caresses, exciting Hannah even more.

Eventually, she was dressed back in her uniform and with a carrier bag in hand, they exited the fitting room.

Cilla saw them approach. She smiled her best shopkeeper smile, "It is usually five guineas for each set, and yes, before you say it, I know that is expensive, but they are all handmade using the finest materials. My usual clientele can afford and demand the best. Today's two sets are a gift for you. My good friend Leslie thinks you are worth it, so that's good enough for me."

Hannah was surprised, "But, that's not right, it must cost you lots, and my Mum gave me a cheque to pay?"

Cilla smiled, "I like to think of it as an investment. I have a new range of lingerie, and having seen your fabulous figure, I would like to hire you to model them. Leslie has already agreed to model for me, so please think about it. You would get paid, and you get to keep every set of lingerie you put on. Don't decide now. Talk to Leslie about it, and even ask your Mother if you want to. It's all above board."

"Oh, OK and thank you."

Both young women left the showroom, getting in the minivan.

On the journey back, Hannah was curious and asked, "About this modelling, where is it, and who will be there?"

"Cilla lives above her showroom on the third floor. We will go there. Cilla also takes all the pictures. Her Father was a professional fashion photographer, and her Mother worked as a seamstress for Hartnell on Couture Fashion. There's nothing she doesn't know about the female body.

I have modelled for her before. All the images are anonymous. No faces are ever shown. Even long hair is tied up out of the way.

Cilla will direct us the whole time and help us with poses. She will make sure the outfits are made to measure. She will do everything to ensure you can relax and enjoy the experience. If you agree to model, you must get a good night's sleep and drink lots of water beforehand. Don't wear tight clothing. It avoids red marks, and wear something loose with nothing underneath. That means no underwear.

The emphasis is on selling the lingerie. Cilla promises that we will always get to see the images first. Anything we disapprove of is destroyed immediately, even the negative. Trust me, you will be safe with me. You will earn fifty quid and get lots of free, handmade lingerie. What's not to like."

"Can we do more of the kissing thing?" Hannah whispered, blushing furiously.

Leslie laughed, "Yes, probably, but we shouldn't force it. It's always more fun and much better if it's spontaneous and the mood feels right. Like earlier, it was perfect; you were adorable, and I loved kissing you."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hannah, you can ask me what you want; why, what do you want to know? Oh no, let me guess, hmmm, am I a lesbian."

Hannah coughed and sputtered, not daring to speak or make eye contact."

"You know, I hear what the girls call me, snickering behind their hands, Lezi-les, that's it. All the staff know what's said about them. You girls are not very clever or inventive and have absolutely no discretion.

Anyway, no, Hannah, I am not a lesbian. I don't care if the person I have feelings for has male or female genitalia. Does that answer your question?"

"Oh, I never knew; it's all so confusing. Why is everything always so complicated." Hannah moaned.

"It's not that difficult; it doesn't matter if I fall for a man or woman; I fall for the person, not the gender. Does that help?"

"So, if you kissed me, does it mean you have feelings for me?"

Leslie smiled, "Hannah, I liked kissing you and being with you, and yes, I could easily develop serious feelings for you. You are intelligent, beautiful, and talented but also shy and naive. You are still young; you have your whole life ahead of you and some seriously gruelling years at veterinary college. You must explore, develop and become the most amazing person I know you can be. If I can be a small part in helping you explore, helping you become amazing, then I will be happy."

Hannah was quiet, staring intently at her hands as tears threatened.

Leslie turned the minivan into the college gates. She pulled up behind a small Grove of trees into the staff car park, their adventure over for the day.

Before exiting the car, Hannah said quietly, "I will model for Cilla on Saturday, but only if you stay with me."

"Excellent, Saturday afternoon it is then, and of course, I will stay with you; I don't want to be anywhere else."

~~oOo~~

Saturday afternoon came around quickly, not giving Hannah too much time to dwell on her decision. On Friday, she retook her exam before the Headmaster and felt she had done better the second time.

Sitting in his office for two hours in silence was strange as she worked and he read. Leslie was waiting when she came out and asked how it went, but they had to part quickly as Hannah's Mother was picking her up to visit an elderly relative.

By Saturday lunchtime, Hannah had finally decided on her go-to comfort: faded denim dungarees. They were too big for her. She had to roll up the legs and tie the waist with a rope. She wore them because they belonged to her Daddy, and her Daddy had always made her feel safe. Even the rope around her waist she used as a belt belonged to him. Both items were shabby, with holes and paint splatters. But that didn't matter. She would wear them if she ever felt nervous or unsure about a situation.

She also chose a blue and white striped tee shirt to wear.

She stuffed some underwear into her satchel and went out to meet Leslie when she tooted the horn of the minivan.

As she got in, she noticed Leslie was in a front-buttoning denim dress, "Oh, you look Fab, but we are double denim. So, are you nervous?" Leslie asked as soon as Hannah sat down.

"Yes, definitely, but maybe also a bit excited." Hannah responded, adding a nervous giggle."

"Good, that's how I feel, even if I have done this before."

The journey didn't take long, and the girls chatted excitedly about nothing in particular.

Leslie parked the minivan, and rather than go through the showroom, she went down a side road and into a solid-looking door marked, 'NO ENTRANCE.'

The door led into a loading bay, and Leslie went straight to a goods lift.

The lift rumbled its way up two floors.

Waiting for them was Cilla, dressed in all black and looking severe.

Then she smiled, "Welcome, girls; I am so pleased to see you both. Leslie, can you do the honours and show Hannah around? I didn't know what to get you to drink, so Pear Cider or soda is in the fridge. I need to pop down to the showroom." With that, she stepped into the lift.

Leslie took Hannah's hand, "Right, let's explore."

Cilla's home was enormous, with one big room and a kitchen at one end. The opposite wall was covered in large windows overlooking the woods.

Against the other wall was an iron spiral staircase and a door.

"The staircase leads to the only bedroom and bathroom," Leslie said as she headed towards the kitchen area and large refrigerator.

She brought back two bottles, handing one to Hannah. "I have never had cider before."

"Go on, you are over the legal age, so live dangerously. Try it, and if you don't like it, I can always change it for a soda," Leslie said, smiling.

Just then, Cilla returned, interrupting the girls; Hannah looked about guiltily.

Leslie just laughed.

"Good, I see you have a drink, Leslie. Why don't you go and change? Everything is laid out on the bed in order. Hannah, stay with me a while."

Leslie and Hannah looked at each other, then Leslie winked, smiled, and headed towards the stairs.

Cilla turned to Hannah. "Hannah, you will be nervous, but you can trust me. You are beautiful and have a perfect body; your youth will make your skin luminous on film.

I think the outfit you chose is perfect, and I would love to take some pictures of you in it. I think it might help you settle down and get comfortable.

I will explain everything as we go so you can be confident in what we are doing.

I will be using my Father's Mamiya medium-format camera. He taught me how to use it properly and then passed it to me when he retired. Today, I will use Ilford monochrome film stock; I prefer black and white but occasionally will colour-wash some images.

This large board is a reflector. It pushes light into the shadows, balancing the contrast. I want you to kick off your shoes. I also want you to be a brave girl: Take off your tee shirt. Keep your bib up, then sit on the windowsill, back against the side. Right leg up so your arm can rest on your knee." Cilla finished her little speech, then embraced Hannah, "You can do this, Hannah. Leslie thinks you are amazing, so I know you won't disappoint her."

"Oh, OK, do you want me to do it now?" Hannah asked, pleased to hear what Leslie thought.

"Yes, dear, you get ready while I get my stuff."