Asstr Anonympc

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Asstr Anonympc
Summary: Jack thought his 12-year-old cousin Lily was innocent... until he received an invitation to her Friends Only Facebook page and discovered her life as an exhibitionist.

Keywords: Mg, inc, lolita, 1st, exhib, voy

I used to think my cousin Lily was an average kid.  Now, I kind of hope she isn’t… because as much as I’ve benefited, if average girls her age are this sexually adventurous, it’s probably a bad sign for society as a whole.  I still struggle with accepting this side of her. Before I discovered it, if I’d even thought about it, I would have doubted Lily had ever said the word sex, except perhaps in whispers, followed by a blush and a giggle. She was, after all, only twelve years old. 
If you met her on the street, you would never guess what she did in her free time. You’d just see a pretty, apple-cheeked preteen girl, with skin that had never ever had a single blemish, and dark brown hair that flows just past her shoulders. If what she was wearing was tight enough, you could make out what there was of a figure… a child’s figure, very slender, thin legs, thinner arms, and an almost flat chest, with just the barest hint of bumps.  She usually looked cheerful, with a pleasant smile sitting naturally on her face, and if she was really happy that those pink lips would part and you could see the flash of metal braces.  In short, she looked the picture of a little girl just on the verge of becoming a woman, but still innocent in the extreme.   
You might guess her hobbies included playing soccer or field hockey, or maybe those delicate fingers played an instrument. I knew she did both, although had mostly given up on piano, but I didn’t even have an idea about this other side she had, one she kept hidden from her family. This side she shared with friends only, and only a select category of them.  I only found out about it when she decided I wasn’t just her cousin, I also deserved to be her friend.
That decision didn’t come out of nowhere, although it seemed like it to me. I guess we always had a connection, even though I’m six years older. Up until a couple years back, my mother would regularly babysit Lily… after school for a few hours, and during school holidays. Sometimes on weekends when her parents wanted to go out she’d be dropped off at our place too, but mostly it was during the week. Mom was trying to start a home business, and it seemed like a natural thought that she could make a few extra bucks and watch over Lily while doing it. It worked out, for the most part, but while trying to be successful, she couldn’t give my cousin her full attention.
 
Mom’s idea of babysitting Lily was to sit her in front of the TV while she sat in the home office trying to get work done.  Aside from television, since my mother commandeered the computer, there weren’t a lot of other things to entertain someone her age, at least not stuff she could do by herself.  She was always a sweet kid, and seeing her bored as hell, I put myself in her place and just felt bad for her. Imagine it, being stuck in a relative’s house, far from your friends.  So, one day I decided if I was home and wasn’t doing anything important, I’d play with her. Hide and seek, ping-pong, even horsey-rides sometimes. I didn’t spend all my time doing it, but I always tried to carve out a little bit for her. Before long, if I didn’t come to her, she’d come get me.  I didn’t usually mind… playing with her was fun. Sure, eventually I got bored too and wanted to do other things, and sometimes I even hid out in my room with my music on high and pretending not to hear her knocking, but I actually missed her when Mom gave up, got a real job, and Aunt Kelly had to hire a different sitter. 
For a long time after that, I saw very little of my cousin Lily… just at holidays and family gatherings. Last year I graduated from high school and, when I started college this year, that changed. See, I was eager to move out on my own, and that was my opportunity. I found a place, a bachelor apartment. It was small, but barely affordable, mainly because there was a little bit off the beaten track. As it turned out, the path from the nearest bus stop to my building ran right past Lily’s school. 
The first time I spotted her it was a pleasant surprise, a cool coincidence, but I began to look forward to it. I guess for all that I wanted to get away from my family, I found living alone a little lonely, so it was nice to see a familiar face.  It didn’t happen too often.  My college schedule that year was a little unbalanced, so Tuesdays and Thursdays, I had lectures from 7 in the morning to almost 6 at night, but on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, my last class ended at 2:30. On those days, if I left right after class, as I usually did, I had a small chance of meeting Lily on her way home. Whenever I did, we’d usually stop for a couple minutes to talk, and it brightened my day a little, no matter how dreary it was. 
I didn’t think these interactions would last… I knew any minute she’d start that inevitable transformation into a teenager, become sullen and be too ashamed to talk to a relative, any relative, while friends were nearby, potentially judging her coolness by the smallest association. I went through a similar stage… when my friends came over, I had to pretend my little cousin was just an annoying brat, and it would only be fair that she pay me back for it.  So I knew one day I’d wave at her and she might give a little wave but not stop to talk, and then after that she’d just nod furtively when she saw me, before looking away so I couldn’t embarrass her. 
We went through about half of that school year with sporadic encounters where she always had a smile for me and somehow judged me cool enough to talk to, even in front of her friends. As spring began to approach that still hadn’t changed and, one Monday, when she stopped to talk to me, I got the invitation that changed everything.
I need to back up, first, because to explain the invitation, I have to talk about the previous weekend. It was my mother’s birthday.  We went to eat at a “Chinese” place, my mother’s favorite, an all-you-can-eat-buffet. I use the quotes because I don’t think the owners are really Chinese, and it shows in the offerings, they had a mix of dishes, some Western, and I’m pretty sure Teriyaki Beef is Japanese, not Chinese.  The place called itself Chinese, anyway, and my mother loved it. I just liked it, but they had a few good dishes, and I couldn’t complain about the portion sizes.  Six of us were there celebrating, my parents, me, my aunt and uncle, and Lily. The others were already there when my parents and I arrived, although only by a few minutes.  Because four out of our six were couples, I sat directly across from my little cousin. 
Lily looked nice that night, like she was a little dressed up, wearing a black top over a red dress. I didn’t think it was the kind of thing she normally wore, but then I didn’t know her well enough to know that. Almost every time I saw her lately, she was wearing her school uniform.  Today, when she saw me, she gave me a warm smile and hello, and then said Happy Birthday to my mom. Aunt Kelly passed over a boxed gift, which my Mom opened. It was a nice vase, which my Mom oohed and ahhed over appreciatively. 
That made me feel a little guilty because I’d only given Mom a card. It was all she asked for, because she didn’t want me spending money I needed for college on a gift she didn’t really need, but I still felt bad. It was like a no-win situation, if I bought her something, she’d give me grief for wasting money, if I didn’t, I’d have to feel bad about that. Maybe my guilt was all she really wanted. 

To avoid thinking about that, I tried to make some small talk with Lily, but she was a little quiet, even withdrawn, answering in one word answers, not the easy camaraderie we had outside her school. I thought the teenager syndrome had started to set in early. I quickly began to see some of the signs of it, in how she behaved with her parents. 
While we were all at the buffet, assembling our first plates, she happened to be right behind me, and while we exchanged a few words about what dishes looked good, her dad passed by going the other way and said to her, “Hey, Lilypad, I saw a bunch of sushi over on the other table.” Lily just rolled her eyes and blew air out of her mouth dismissively, and spooned some vegetables onto her plate. 
Her mother, she barely talked to, except when a direct question was asked, and that was rare. More often, Aunt Kelly criticized, like when she said, “You put too much of that on your plate, you’re never going to eat all of it,” or “Stop trying to use the chopsticks if you don’t know how, Lily. Somebody’s got to clean up whatever you drop… don’t try and act sophisticated, just use a fork.” I could understand Lily giving her the teenager treatment early, if that was what she was like at home. 
My aunt was another reason I couldn’t really talk to Lily. Throughout that dinner, Aunt Kelly seemed to butt in whenever I tried, even for the most banal things. For example, when I asked how school was going, Lily started to answer, but then her Mom jumped aboard with, “She’s doing great, except in social studies. But she won an award in composition the other week,” and yammered on about her daughter’s accomplishments and what she needed to work on, while Lily seemed to shrink back. I bit back a scowl… if I wanted to talk to Aunt Kelly, I would have asked her. 
I should have expected that, though. My aunt was always this way… probably since she and my mom were kids. My mom’s not normally a quiet woman, but always allows Aunt Kelly dominate the conversation whenever they’re together, like she was used to it, which is weird, because Mom’s the elder sister.  I used to think my aunt was entertaining, and a great storyteller, but as I’d grown and come to the conclusion that she just liked the spotlight, it became a little annoying.  In small doses, she could still be fun, but I felt bad for Lily, who had to deal with it every day. 
I guess her dad wasn’t too bad.  Although my uncle could occasionally get loud and obnoxious when talking about politics, he was more engaging and actually seemed like he listened to what you had to say, and even at his worst he was nowhere near as bad as Aunt Kelly… although, as it turned out, on that day he wasn’t even there very long. Halfway through our first plate, his phone rang, he said, “I have to take this,” and headed outside. About five minutes later, he came back with a grimace on his face and said, “Sorry, I hate to do this, but I really need to go into work.”
“Oh, come on,” my Dad said. “You’re not going to leave me here to suffer alone with the women, are you?” he joked, completely forgetting me. Usually the two husbands entertained each other arguing about sports. “Can’t you get somebody else to fill in? It’s Julia’s birthday.”
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but I’m the only one who can handle it.” 
“He’s the number one man there, the place would fall apart without him.” Aunt Kelly said proudly, and then explained about why nobody else could do the job, up until she was finally interrupted by her daughter. 
“So how are we supposed to get home?” Lily whined with a roll of her eyes.
“Oh, it’s no trouble,” my mom volunteered. “You can come with us. We have to drop Jack off anyway, and you live right near him.” With that settled, my Uncle gave his wife a kiss on the cheek, his daughter a kiss on her forehead while she shied away, and then my mom a kiss on her cheek as well, delivered with an apology and an offer to pay for the meal. 
With that, he was gone, and my Mom and Aunt Kelly got into a long, detailed, and spectacularly boring conversation about Facebook and, particularly, the game Farmville, while my dad went for more food. I looked across the table at Lily, who was staring at her plate, picking at her food.  
I had that old instinct, from when she was bored. I wanted to make her feel better, even if only by distracting her, so I tried again to include her in the conversation. “So, do you play Farmville too?” I asked.
True to form, Aunt Kelly interrupted before Lily could get a syllable out. “Of course not, she doesn’t have a Facebook,” she said. “She’s not allowed. She’s too young for sites like that.” 
“Yes you are, young lady. You’re not even allowed on there until you’re thirteen, by their own terms of service, and you’re months away from that.”
“That’s right. When you’re sixteen you can get one, if you’ve proven you can handle it, and I have your password.” She turned to my mother. “Now she’s going to tell me about how her friends have Facebook profiles. I can’t believe how lax some parents are. Luckily, I’m not like that. I put a Net Nanny program on her computer, the same types the school uses. It’s not that I don’t trust her. She’s a good girl but there’s so much bad stuff out there you can stumble across by accident.”
My mother agreed, my dad, who had returned with a plate full mostly of sweet and sour ribs, tried to give an example, but Aunt Kelly continued in with, “That reminds me of a story…”
She took over the conversation, again, and told a story that wasn’t even hers.  It was something she saw on a newsmagazine about bullying leading to a suicide. I’d already finished my plate, but it was only when Lily got up and said she was going to go back for more that I decided I could use some too. “I told you,” Aunt Kelly said as we rose, picking up Lily’s last plate and showing the food left on it. “A total waste of food. Some kid in the real China would feel very lucky to have this much food to waste.” 
In the buffet line, since I was mostly alone with Lily, I decided to try conversation again. “You okay?” 
Lily tilted her head towards me as she grabbed a fresh plate. “Yeah, Jack, I’m fine. Why?”
I shrugged. “You just seem a little quiet.” I took a shot in the dark. “So, what are you missing out on to be here?”
“It’s just you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. Come on, it’s a Saturday night. I know you’ve got plenty more fun things to do than celebrate your aunt’s birthday.”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I don’t mind being here. I like your parents.” When she said “your”, she poked me playfully with the hand that wasn’t holding her plate. 
“Everybody always likes everybody else’s parents more than their own,” I said, trying to pass on sage wisdom. I certainly had problems with mine. My dad was good most of the time, but tended to fly off the handle for no reason.  Mom was also a bit of a nag, but, to her credit, she didn’t do it when we were out in public and it would embarrass me. Still, while I could live with my dad’s occasional outbursts, my mom’s regular nagging was one of the chief reasons I had wanted to move out. 
“Please, like you’d really want to trade your mom for mine, right?”
I shrugged, unwilling to either lie or admit the truth. Instead, I decided to change the subject. “Hey, I like how you did your nails.” It struck me as a little childish, but cute.  Each one was a painted different color, like she was trying to go for some kind of rainbow effect. 
She pulled her hand away from one of the scoops and showed them off. “Yeah? You just noticed them now?”
“No, I saw them when we sat down, but your mom wouldn’t exactly let me get a word in edgewise.”
She giggled then, a genuine one that made me feel good, like I’d done some small part to make her night better. “She HATES them. If we weren’t on our way out when she noticed them, she’d have made me change.” She pitched her voice a little lower and did a dead-on impression of her mother. “’They’re so gaudy, Lily. You’re becoming a young lady, you should look more respectable.’” She rolled her eyes.
I chuckled and scooped out a little Teriyaki beef for my plate. “Who cares what she thinks? It’s your body, right?”
“Right!” she said, emphatically. “Thank God somebody sees it that way. You really like them?”
“I do,” I said. “Rainbow nails are very cool.” I was being a little generous. They were cute, but they were nails. What the fuck did I care?
“You think your girlfriend would look good with them?”
I laughed nervously. “Well, I don’t have one at the moment, but if I did, I’d leave that up to her.” I looked up and saw Aunt Kelly and my mom coming to the buffet area, and joked, “Uh-oh, there’s your mom. Better end the conversation before she smothers it to death.”
Back when we got to the table, my dad had shifted his chair over to my side of the table, having decided that talking to me and Lily, was better than listening to more of Aunt Kelly’s stories. I couldn’t blame him. The rest of the meal, we managed to have a divided conversation, with Aunt Kelly and my mom talking about whatever, and Dad, Lily and I talking mostly about our schools. I finally did hear Lily’s own take about how things were going there (she found it boring, but most kids did), and she also showed us her collection of animal-shaped rubber bands she wore around her wrist while we pretended to be interested. 
After dessert, we all piled into the car and rode together, Lily right beside me, between me and her mother, and plowing into me whenever Dad took a turn too fast, but there was only room for one conversation, and that was Aunt Kelly’s. Even that was subdued, as she claimed she was starting to develop a migraine, and mostly she just talked about all the steps she’d have to take once she got home to limit the amount of pain she’d suffer later. We dropped the two of them off, and then I was let out in front of my building, said one last Happy Birthday to my mom, and went home, thinking very little about that side of the family again.
That is, until I saw Lily again on that Monday, on the way home from school. She was with a small group, but peeled off when she saw me and smiled. “Hi,” she said.
She grinned.  “Yeah, it’s been ages.” As she spoke, she reached up a hand and shifted the bag on her shoulder. I noticed her fingernails were now unadorned, plain.
“My Mom made me get rid of them,” she said with a roll of her eyes. 
“Too bad, I thought it suited you,” I said. “Your mom’s a little strict, I mean, what’s the harm of painted nails? You’ve got to express yourself some way, right?” 
She nodded. “I’m glad you think that.” Then she looked up at me, a little twinkle in her eye, and spoke the words that first sealed my doom. “Hey, can you keep a secret?”
“Of course I can,” I said automatically. If she was a little older, I might have been more wary, but like I said, she gives off such a vibe of innocence, I didn’t even question. 
“You remember how you guys were talking about Facebook?”
I nodded. “Yeah, how your mom won’t let you…”
She grinned. “Well, I do actually have my own Facebook page. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to get past that Net Nanny software. But it’s secret. And friends only.”
I smiled at her confession. A secret Facebook account didn’t seem to be anything to worry about, and right in line with what I might have guessed the secret would be, if I had time to guess. A little bit of adolescent rebellion, but nothing really dangerous. How bad could it be, right? So I smiled. “Hey, that’s cool. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“I knew you’d understand,” she said. She bit the corner of her lower lip, hesitated for a second, and asked, “So, do you want an invite?”
“What, you consider me a friend?” It was crazy, but it f
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