Ellen kept finding these pictures on her phone. The resemblance to herself was uncanny. The clothing was similar, and that bra was just like one she wore. The girls navel jewelry, very similar to her own.

Ellen kept finding herself studying the breasts. The curvature, the valley between, the pert nipples—every inch of this girl’s body was fascinating. She had the idea that if she studied this picture, really scrutinized it, perhaps there would be a clue as to who it was, and how the pictures got on her phone.

So Ellen looked every time she had a free moment. Furtive looks during the day. Long silent study at night.

There’s something in common with us, Ellen thought. She didn’t know how yet, but she was certain she would know when she found it. So Ellen would look, and pose, and flash, just like that girl, feeling just as hot, as wet, as sexy as that girl must have felt. She’d study the photo as she played, trying to get inside the mystery girl’s most intimate thoughts, what brought her pleasure, where she wanted to be.

Yet even after all of this, the pictures of the mystery girl continued to fill Ellen’s camera. There were videos now, and the voice seemed strangely familiar as well, though there seldom words to be made out.

At length, she shared her research with me. I insisted that she send me all that she had found so I could get to the bottom of this conundrum. I’ve visited her as she studied, whispering encouragement into Ellen’s ear as she mindlessly fucked herself into the girl’s same oblivion. I’m sure that, together, we will find the truth about this girl.

Ellen is so close.

(With grateful thanks for the submission!)