Forbidden Photos, Part One – Diana's Story

by Anastas

Note: In no way am I suggesting that the production of photos like those described in this story is acceptable. It is only fantasy. This is my first submission to Lesbian Lolita.

My friend Peg asked me to come over and help her with one of her university assignments. Peg, 26, a year younger than me, is an incredibly smart person. She’s already done degrees in physics and engineering and decided to have a crack at the even more impenetrable field of economics. I couldn’t understand a word of what her essay was about, although she tried to explain it to me. I simply nodded in bewilderment occasionally, as I was only there to fix the grammar. At least that I could do. Peg could grasp intangible theories that will forever remain off limits to my intelligence, but she couldn’t construct a readable sentence. That was my (unpaid) job. Peg trusted me to do it as I’ve been helping with her homework for 14 years now.

She opened the file on her computer, sat me down in front of it and cheerily said, “That should keep you busy for a couple of hours.” I nodded and said, “No problem. Now, are you going to watch me correct it or just leave me to it?” I was hoping she’d stay with me to explain a few of the more confusing phrases to me. Peg looked a little bit sheepish and said, “Actually, you don’t mind if I don’t hang around, do you? I have to go and collect some stats from the Bureau of Statistics for another assignment that’s due in this week and I have to pore over two decades worth of figures about the anomaly surrounding the causal relationship between the finite connections of the googolplex—” I don’t know what she really said, I tuned out halfway into that sentence. I simply said, “Fine. Go. I’ll take care if this. It’ll be finished when you get back.” Peg said, “Great. See you in a few hours.” With that, she left me alone with my boring task.

After an hour of genuinely trying my best to fix up her essay, I needed a break. I went and made a cup of tea then sat back at the computer, thinking about how I might politely decline the next time Peg asked me to help with her schoolwork. Idly, I started to look around her computer to see what she had on there. I’ve used her computer before but only while Peg was here with me. I felt pretty guilty about snooping like that, but I couldn’t stop myself. I wasn’t looking to dig up any dirt on Peg, I just wanted a brief distraction from my tedious task.

Peg’s desktop icons were all generically labelled, ‘Pictures’, ‘Music’, ‘Videos’, ‘Assignments’, etc. I looked through her MP3 collection, noting a few songs and albums I’d like to have a listen to. Then I opened the ‘Pictures’ file and looked through her photos. There were a few of the two of us the last time we went out, when she had gotten spectacularly drunk and I had to literally carry her out to the car on my back. The regular dykes in the bar loved it when tiny little Peggy blew in to outdrink them. I don’t drink and I only go with her to check out the other girls. Peg is fairly short and petite, while I’m nearly a full head taller than her and not exactly skinny. Approaching plump, I would say, which these unflattering photos accentuated. Flash photos always make people look so awful. Anyway, I kept looking through the pictures on Peg’s computer: there were her family snaps, several pictures of female movie stars of the 30’s, cute animals, and then—

“What the hell is this?!!” I froze. I don’t know how long I stared at the screen. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. In a file labelled only as ‘SG’, there was a picture of two clearly prepubescent girls, about seven or eight, completely nude on a bed together with both their legs spread wide apart, with their little hairless cunts practically poking out at you, and both of the girls were giving smoulderingly sexy looks to the camera. I was dumbstruck. I stammered and looked around, already feeling guilty, like someone was watching me. What is Peg doing with pictures like this? I mean, Peggy! My dearest friend who I’ve known since the first year of high school. God, what does this mean? Is Peggy a paedophile? Why would she have pictures like this? This isn’t fake. Those are really two little girls there, having their picture taken in the nude.

I continued looking through the pictures. I simply had to see what else was there. Did it get worse? Were there any pictures of these poor girls being molested by some disgusting adult man? I really couldn’t handle that. That would make me call the police right then and there. Thankfully there weren’t. There were about 200 pictures, all of the same two young girls, a brunette and a redhead. Every picture showed the girls either nude or taking off what little clothes they were wearing and posing in a provocative way, yet still in an innocent sweet little girl kind of way, with their legs up in the air spread as far apart as they could get them, or holding a pretend microphone and singing into it while they thrust their hips forward. The redhead girl had two long plaited pigtails with pink ribbons, which she undid over the course of the pictures to let her long hair flow freely, while the brunette had a long, long ponytail with a blue ribbon at the end. In most of the pictures they were both smiling and laughing and had their arms around each other and were kissing each other.

I started to analyse the content of the pictures in a very clinical way, trying to emotionally distance myself from what was obviously direct physical evidence of the sexual abuse of two children, right? So, I calmly and rationally thought: this is child pornography. There’s no artistic merit here. This was obviously a planned photo session to present these girls as sexual objects. Yes, I really did have these thoughts. I wasn’t ready to admit what was completely apparent to me from when I first saw the first picture: That these two girls were two of the most entrancingly beautiful creatures I’d ever seen. They were so beautiful, so sweet, so pretty and SO sexy. No! Mustn’t think like that. They’re children! They’ve been manipulated to act this way for the camera.

My head was swimming, and all kinds of questions about the fate of these two little girls started running around my head: Are they really being abused? I mean, they sure look like they’re having fun. But everything I’ve ever read about child pornography says that if a child appears to be enjoying themselves that’s because they’ve been forced to look like they’re happy and smiling when they really feel bad and dirty and miserable because they’re being sexually abused. In the face of the images in front of me that assertion maybe started to seem a little bit unreasonable. These girls weren’t having sex. There were no adults in the pictures. They were just playing around in the nude while someone was taking their picture. And they looked so proud too, as they showed off their tiny undeveloped pussies.

Despite my attempts to over-analyse and intellectualise my feelings, eventually I admitted to myself what was obvious and what was right in front of my eyes: These girls are so sweet, my god they’re so beautiful. More than that, these girls are really sexy. I feel attracted to them… No, more than that: I WANT them. I want to touch them and feel every part of their perfect little bodies and to taste their beautiful perfect little cunts. God, how I want to taste them! By now my own cunt was sopping wet and I could smell my musty scent filling up the room. No turning back now.

I went back through the pictures and stopped on one where both girls were looking directly into each other’s eyes. They both looked like they were ready to pounce on each other and greedily devour each other’s sweet pussies. Seeing these two girls looking at each and looking like they were really turned on by each other was even more arousing than the shots of the girls looking directly to camera. Getting that sense that these girls lusted after one another was turning me on so much I couldn’t help it anymore. I had to cum.

I thrust my hips forward on the chair and I reached down into my pants and started rubbing myself hard. I was already so hot and wet from looking over these pictures that it didn’t take much to make me cum. My heavy juices had already flooded through my panties and thin cotton pants and had soaked the chair and were oozing onto the floor. Rubbing frantically away at my engorged clit I started speaking aloud while looking at the wonderful pictures on the screen in front of me, “Oh, you’re so beautiful together, I can’t believe how beautiful you are, I want you to make each other cum, make each other happy, make each other feel so goooood…”

I felt my orgasm building. I thrust my head back and shut my eyes tight as I screamed a silent scream at the height of my climax. I arched my back and lifted my bottom off the chair as I went completely rigid from the overwhelming spasms of pleasure that jolted through my whole body. I felt such a powerful shuddering delight at the thought of these two wonderful little girls pleasuring each other. I’d never felt such an intense orgasm before. This had awakened something deep in me. I slumped down into the chair, completely spent, flopping my arms over the armrests and panting heavily. I looked up at the computer screen. My two wonderful angels were still there, frozen in time for all time, looking lovingly into each others eyes.

When I came to a few minutes later, I realised that it had been half an hour since I had first discovered these impossibly beautiful and lawfully unspeakable images. Peg could have walked in the door at any time in the last half hour. Luckily she hadn’t. What was I going to do now? Could I confront Peg with this? Why had she left these pictures so easily accessible? They were just sitting there on her computer in a file next to pictures of her family. Wasn’t she worried about being discovered? At some point I’d have to tell her the truth. Well, some of the truth. I might omit for the moment that, thanks to the child porn pics on her computer, I had been reborn as a paedophile. I’d never seen images like that before. Even though I just had the best orgasm of my life while looking at them, I still didn’t really know what to make of them. I’d never looked at prepubescent girls with lust before.

I mean I’m someone who looks at child beauty pageants with utter disgust, who laments how young girls are being sexualised in the media and who would gladly put a gun to the head of anyone who would sexually abuse children, yet here I was becoming ravenous at child porn. But that really doesn’t seem the right way to describe this. There was something different about these photos, I decided. In a way, the pictures on Peggy’s computer were far more honest than something like a beauty pageant or choreographed sexy dance routine. These shots acknowledged the reality of these girls’ erotic and sexual natures without restraint. Whoever was taking these pictures was doing something special to have these girls be so genuinely alluring, hypnotic and irresistible, in a way that didn’t seem forced… …or was that just more of my major rationalisations so I didn’t feel so bad about being aroused by two eight-year-olds? Two girls who, for all I knew, could have been forced to act the way they did in those pictures. But they both looked soooo happy…

Peg still wasn’t back, so I quickly cleaned myself up. I splashed a bit of water on my pants in the bathroom to cover my obvious wet patches, hopefully to make it look like I’d had a stupid accident at the sink. I couldn’t put on one of Peg’s seldom-worn pairs of trousers, they’d never fit me, so I sat in my soaked pants. I opened the window and sprayed the room with air freshener and lit two sticks of sandalwood incense, hopefully that would cover the strong smell of my manual exertions. Then I sat back down at the computer and went back to editing Peg’s essay. I tried not to think about the two amazingly sweet and sexy little girls I had discovered, but I failed totally. Five minutes later after staring at long words that meant nothing to me Peg came home.

“Hey Di. How did you go?” she asked.

“Not so well. This one’s going to be harder than I thought. Do you have a printed copy that I could work on at home?” She hadn’t noticed anything.

“Sure. Just print the version you’re looking at. What happened to you?” Peg noticed my wet pants.

“Oh, I accidentally splashed myself at the kitchen sink.” Whether she believed me or not, she didn’t ask any more questions.

We had a quick lunch and I said I’d better be going home. For the rest of the day all I could think about was those two girls. Who are they? What are their names? Where are they? Where were those pictures taken? When were they taken? Were they really coerced? Are they really attracted to each other? Oh I hope so. I’ll never know the answers to any of these questions, but I hope they’re happy, wherever they are and whatever they’re doing now, I hope at least that their lives are good. At least that. I wish them the best and hope they’re happy with each other…

That night I had another unbelievably intense orgasm while thinking about those two sweet girls lying naked together, rubbing each other’s tiny slits, sliding their supple lithe little bodies all over each other… I’d never felt so good.

- To be continued… Part two will be about the origins of the photos Diana saw, the girls in them and the photographer who took them.