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The Ass Mugger
CHAPTER ONEDuring the last few miles of her long drive she was able to achieve a small measure of calm. She was frightened and just a bit sickened by the girl that she had become and for most of the long drive from New York she had been unable to rid her mind of filth.She was sure that the thoughts and pictures cluttering up her mind represented the worst kind of sick thinking. And that was so very odd because Diane Adams was pure ice. Beautiful but frigid.She guided her small sports car along the throughway and the warmth of the spring sunshine filled her whole being. She was sure that it was cleansing her. And, if there were any little vestiges of sensual and hedonistic inclinations left in her after she arrived at the cottage, a quick plunge into the clear waters of the lake would finish cleaning out the dirty corridors of her mind.She thought about a lot of things while cars of all makes and models whizzed past her on the wide highway and she found that she was able to cope with the things that were happening to her so long as she was not imprisoned in her pretty little apartment. She began to wonder if there was something voluptuous or sexually stimulating about the place where she lived. There had to be an answer somewhere.A beautiful honey blonde with an exceptionally good figure and a thriving career as a commercial artist should not begin drawing pictures that were truly pornographic. That was sickness she decided. And it would have to stop. She would do whatever was necessary to cleanse her mind and her whole being."And when you are all finished with that, dearie," she said, aloud, "you can begin doing something about those wild erotic dreams you have every little once in a while. Some of them are real dillies. And, you know what you always have to do. Think about how you have begun to enjoy the nasty little things that you do. Think about that, girl," she added viciously.She happened to glance to her left and she saw that a nice looking young guy in a big convertible was watching her, knowing that she was very obviously talking to herself. She grinned at him, a goon girl grin, and she winked."I'm crazy," she said, knowing that he couldn't possibly hear her. "I'm crazy and I'm nutty and like that. Good bye."She touched her toe to the gas pedal and the little foreign car zipped away and she was glad that it did. She could understand, finally, why the little car cost so much money. When she saw that the needle was registering a bit past ninety she decided to ease off and she was glad that there were no cops in sight. She didn't want a ticket for speeding to add to her other woes.She was twenty-three, virtually alone in the world now and she was sure that she was a very good artist, a good illustrator and she should be very happy. Instead, she was suddenly lonely, too tense all the time and lately she was bedeviled by dreams and fantasies of sexual experiences and perversions too wild to be attempted by someone so square as she was.And, when she realized that her work was becoming involved with her preoccupation with sensuality, she panicked and ran for the woods. As she turned the car off of the main highway and began easing it along the road that led to the cabin and the lake, she began to feel the sense of calm and tranquility that she was always able to enjoy when she came to the cabin. She could leave the whole wide world outside and lock herself behind the gates and the big stone wall that protected her from outsiders and simply give herself up to the heady joys of freedom.She wondered why she had not destroyed the paintings that had frightened her so thoroughly. She could have destroyed them, she should have destroyed them, but she had not."They are damned good art work," she said, out loud. "Maybe I won't ever be able to show them to anybody but they are done well. Everything should be done well."She drew up in front of the big gates and stopped the car. The key was well hidden and she found it easily, then she locked the gates behind her, hid the key again and drove on up to the pretty little house her folks had built on the shores of the private lake when she had still been a child.She liked the cabin and she visited often. One of the rooms was already converted into a studio and she often brought her work with her when she wanted to rest and relax in the bucolic charm of the lakeside home.She parked her car in front of the garage and she saw that the lawns had been well tended as usual. She knew that there was a little old man who took care of the place for her and had been doing it for years, but she never saw him. She got a bill every month and she sent her check and that seemed to take care of everything. She stood for a moment in the mid-morning sunshine and as she drew a big breath of the clean, crisp air into her lungs, she could feel her whole body tingling with a brand new sense of well being. She glimpsed her reflection in the side mirror and she stopped sticking her chest out immediately. Her pert young breasts were jutting out like a bewitching promontory of exceptional beauty and she was afraid that some one might see her and consider her vain. That was senseless thinking because there was no one within miles of the house.It took her quite a while to get all of her things moved into the house. She finally got it all done and the first thing she had to do was open up her folder and look again at the drawings that she had made. They were scenes right out of her tormented dreams, and she finally placed the two paintings on the floor and then knelt and studied them intently, and even as she gazed at her own handiwork, she could feel the queasy, trickling stirrings within her loins, she could feel the wetness between her legs and she stifled an impulse to Weep. She was a big girl now and she drew dirty pictures and she was becoming quite talented when it came to stimulating her own flesh to the point of ecstasies previously unimagined. She was not a very nice girl, after all, she supposed.She knelt on the carpeting in her studio and she stared at the paintings and she shivered with a quick, convulsive onslaught of heavy sensual excitement. She knew that she had seen the things she had painted in her recent dreams, but she had no other knowledge of the things that she had put on canvas.One of the pictures showed a male sexual organ in a fine state of erection, and the organ was dripping from its tip while a delicate pink tongue protruded from a feminine mouth and licked the throat of the splendid organ. Disembodied hands with bright red nails plucked at a large pair of balls in a hairy sac, and the whole painting was done in bright, glowing colors and she could barely remember the times when she had done the work.The other painting showed a male organ buried deep inside a female orifice while the girl's perineum and valley beneath glistened and sparkled with the spilled drippings of a union that had already enjoyed climax. She was impressed by the detail she had achieved and she wondered why she was being assailed by such an illness now.She was no longer a child, but she was still a virgin and she supposed that she would continue in that status for a long time no matter how erotic her dreams became.The details of the nightmare she had experienced the previous night began flooding back into her mind and she began to shake, overwhelmed by the waves of heavy sensuality and carnal pleasures that she was becoming heir to more and more frequently nowadays.She tried to remember if she had eaten or drunk anything that could induce nightmare but she could not remember such details. The details of her erotic dreams were quite clear however.She shook her head as she moved away from the bright and colorful paintings that were on the floor. She was impressed anew with the detail, the lifelike character of the paintings. She shook her head as she moved around the room, putting the glowing paintings out of sight and trying to tidy up the room as she went.It had been a long, hot drive and she was eager to finish the chores that she had to do so that she could climb into the shower and rid herself of the city dust and grime that she had picked up in her travels. Even as she moved about, getting herself settled in for a visit, she could begin to feel the seething, working fever that was beginning in her loins and her brain, too. Passions that were a brand new thing with her were making themselves felt and she began to wonder if she had become susceptible to a special type of virus that got inside of people and turned them on sexually. She was sure that something like that must have happened to her. There was no other explanation.She went into the pretty bedroom that she had furnished and fitted out herself and she stood for a long time, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She could see the shine of good health shimmering in her light golden hair as it framed her pretty face, and her gray-green eyes sparkled back at her, her soft, sullen mouth smiled in conspiracy with the rest of her and she knew that she was going to undress and watch herself as she bared her well shaped body. The voluptuous sensations that she had just begun to know about began seething in her body and as she moved her legs slightly, she could feel the slippery wetness between her thighs and she shivered with new sensual excitement.There were full length mirrors on each door in her bedroom and there were three doors, so she knew that she could open each door to a certain position and then be able to see herself from all sides.She moved around her room, adjusting the doors and when she stood, finally, in front of the mirror that she usually used for inspection of her dress and her grooming, she was so sexually excited she could barely breathe.In a way she was sorry that she had allowed her career to take precedence over all else. There had been many guys, handsome and clever young men who had found her lovely and talented, and some had even found her desirable, but each time that one of her associations began to take on the characteristics of a romance, she ended it. Perhaps mother nature was paying her back now for being so insensitive to things. Perhaps she needed to be paid back. She was always aware of the way other girls met and married their young men and she knew that she could have married many times but she had always avoided such entanglements this far and now it was probably much too late. Now she was a lovely, twisted thing, filled with distorted sensuality and odd inclinations.She knew that she had reached a stage where she could become intensely excited by the business of undressing, and the sight of her own beauty in the mirrors turned her on so fiercely that she became a slave to her own carnal appetites and yearnings. And this was all very new to her.But much too enjoyable to shun.She had always thought that those persons who were forced to masturbate were poor lost souls who simply could not control their own lusts and were probably exploiting them for their own pleasures. And now she was a member of that group and she was horribly ashamed of her own weaknesses and she had now reached the stage where she felt very sorry and ashamed before she began her long, languid times of auto-erotic activity, and she was even sorrier that she was discovering new and more awful sources of sexual bliss. She had discovered that mechanical devices could do great things for her and by now she had almost established a relatively ideal ritual.Now, as she faced her beautiful reflection in the long mirror, she knew what she was going to have to do, and she could see the hoyden quality in her sparkling smile. She opened her blouse and took it off. She stood straighter as she looked at the pale white purity of her plump young breasts as they nestled indignantly behind the white satin bra that concealed them. She reached behind her and unhooked the thin band of white elastic and then her glorious breasts sprang into their impudent, upward tilting splendor and she could not resist the urge to touch them, to fondle them, to tease the pale pink nipples into swollen hardness and extreme sensitivity. She loved handling her smooth white breasts and feeling the swift, answering agitation in her vaginal depths. She would always experience many little orgasms, times of exquisite sexual thrills that were but a prelude to a final, explosive orgasm that was massive, convulsive and the culmination of her sexual agonies.She had learned much about her own lusting personality and this was all very strange to her, and she had battled such inclinations valiantly, and now she suspected that she had only increased their strengths by her refusal to accept them.She gazed at the mirror and she was thrilled as she watched her tiny nipples pop out of the little pink nests they usually occupied. Her fingers cupped her sweet flesh and as she squeezed and kneaded the warm beauties, she could feel the excitement beginning in her loins, then she could feel the little, tickling, trickling sensations as her glands began excreting their products in great eagerness. She gasped in sheer pleasure as a quick, convulsive orgasm occurred deep within her loins and she let go of her breasts and began taking off her pants and her white satin panties, too. It thrilled her to see that she had soaked her panties with the fruits of her excitements and when she felt the weakness overwhelming her, she slid to the bright red carpeting and then she parted her thighs, entranced by the beauty of her creamy white body against the bright red background. She placed her fingertips below the small triangle of flaxen curls of her pubis and then she was touching the tiny, pale pink lips of her sexual machinery and she began enjoying another quick burst of intense joy as she climaxed again. She slipped her finger into the little opening and as the delicate pink petals moved aside and permitted entry, she began gasping in quick, seething excitement and then she was using her fingers madly, frenziedly, seeking an end to the horrid torments of her own body.She sat up and watched her own flesh as it responded to the mechanical efforts of her fingers and then she was shaking violently, sobbing and whimpering in terrible torment as the fierce orgasm shook her and all but destroyed her.The massive orgasm that finally calmed her lasted for a long time, and when she was finally able to move, she showered and she stood for a long time beneath the torrent of cool water, wondering if she was a bit unlike other girls. She wondered if the type of orgasmic splendors and violent convulsions that she knew were usual, how could girls survive very many of them? She decided that she would have to think about it when she had time, but now that she had attended to the carnal demands of her body she had many other things to do.She glanced out of the bathroom window while she was towelling herself dry and the calm lake, shimmering under the bright sunlight, lured her like the catnip lures a cat. When she dressed, she put on her brand new green bikini and a few minutes later she carried her blanket and portable and cigarettes to the edge of the lake. She left everything on the blanket and she dove into the water and came up gasping as the coldness touched her, filled her. She began swimming in a hurry and after a few minutes, her body adjusted to the water's temperature and she was quite comfortable.She swam for a long time, and when she finally returned to the shore and her blanket, she found that she had company.A very nice looking young man in a pair of tight trunks was sitting on her blanket, calmly smoking one of her cigarettes and listening to her radio. He gave her a big grin as she stood at the edge of the blanket, combing her hair back with her fingers. She was dripping water and she stared at the young man, hating him, resenting his intrusion into her private world.He said, "Hi. I'm Bill Edwards. I'm one of your neighbors. You must be Diane Adams."She stared at him for a long moment, wondering if she should answer him at all. She felt that she would rather pick up her blanket and her things and walk back into her house without saying a word to him. She hated pushy people and she hated pushy, handsome young men particularly.He was looking at her, waiting for her to say something. He flipped the butt of his cigarette off toward the edge of the lake and she was tempted to scold him, to tell him about pollution and some of the other things that people could talk about safely."I am Diane Adams," she said. "You are on private property. Please go. I don't like uninvited guests."He stared at her for a moment and then he stood up and she could see that he was tall and powerfully built. She could also see that he did not like her very much at the moment, "I didn't mean to trespass," he said. "I am an architect. George Pell, your favorite account, according to him, said that you wanted to talk to an architect about some remodeling you want to do here. I thought I'd take a walk over and see about it. But, we don't need to talk. I'm sorry I bothered you. Good day."He started to walk away and she cried out to him. "Don't go," she said. "Please, don't go. I do want to talk to you. Please stay."He turned back and he smiled at her. She knew that her face was red, she could feel the prickling sensations that always came when she blushed. She tried to think of a way that she could apologize for her rudeness and then she decided she wouldn't need to apologize to him at all. He wouldn't require it.She smiled at him and she could see that he was admiring her and she liked the look that was in his eyes."You know," he said, slowly, "you are so beautiful, you dazzle a man. But, I think it's the smile that does it. You need that nice, slow smile. And, when you are wearing it you are lovely beyond belief. I am so glad that I met you."His frank admiration was suddenly making her uncomfortable."I'm glad to meet you, too," she said. "And I did ask George if he knew anyone up here who might be helpful. I'm very glad he sent you. But, he didn't say a word to me. I mean, about you.""He talked to me only yesterday. I came up last night and I found my place all cluttered up with some rather disreputable friends and I'm sure that there are at least a dozen different and independent orgies going on there right now. I walked out and left them to their frenzied chores."She was amazed by what he was saying to her. She sat down on the blanket and let him light one of her cigarettes from her. He also took one for himself. She settled back on her very pretty haunches and looked at him a bit doubtfully."I'm afraid that some of my friends are realistic and candid about things." he said. "Most of the girls were wandering around naked and that sort of started things. So, they will have orgies for a week or so. But, that's fine. This way we can talk about what you want done and perhaps you can show me what you have in mind.""I wouldn't want you to miss an orgy," she said. "Not on my account. Perhaps we had better talk at another time."He shook his head and then he reached out to help her up onto her feet. His fingers were strong and his grasp upon her delicate hand was too strong and he hurt her without meaning to do it, she was sure, but for the first time in her life she reacted to pain with a wave of pure sensualistic anguish. Thinking about what took place within her at that moment, she had to recall that she had never been hurt in quite that way before. But, once his touch did bring her pain she was alive and seething with a quick and demanding sexuality. She ached with an urge to feel his hands on her most intimate flesh, and a sudden yearning to be possessed, to be raped and swallowed in a vortex of unlimited passions and she cried out in quick protest. He let go of her hand and she almost fell, weak and utterly disorganized by the waves of sensual excitement that almost sent her crashing into him with yearning and ambitious lips and tongue and agitated organs. When she realized that she had been very close to actually assaulting him, and trying to kiss him and trying for much more, perhaps, she knew that she had become quite sick. He stood, looking at her, liking her, and she felt sorry for him because he had no inkling of what a weirdo she had become. She calmed very quickly but her heart was pounding wildly in her chest and she knew that she was losing control of herself and she wished that he would go home and talk to her at another time."If you like," he said, "we can look at your place and you can tell me what you have in mind and I will see if I can come up with some fresh ideas for you.""I don't need too much in the way of remodeling," she said, "I just want to add a room on. A study, really, where I can do my work. I am an illustrator and I do a lot of my work up here.""I know," he said. "Shall we take a look?"She nodded and as soon as she stepped off of the blanket, he picked it Up and carried it. He had already handed her the other things and as they moved toward her house she was again aware of him as a vital, virile male and she knew that she was trembling. And she was disgusted with herself.She was much too conscious of him as a man and she caught herself glancing at the big bulge in his trunks. She shook her head slowly, almost angrily, as she made herself look away. When she took him into the house, she was again especially aware of him and she wished that she could achieve a bit of the customary naturalness and comfort she was able to feel when with most of the men that she knew. She resented him for being able to affect her sensually and emotionally and intellectually. She wanted to explain to him about the study that she wanted to have built but instead she offered to fix him a drink and he accepted her offer.There was a bar in the small study that already existed and he sat on one of the stools, watching her as she built them a drink. She pushed his at him and he took it, and sipped it, gazing at her admiringly across the rim of the glass. She was also looking at him as she sipped her drink."You have a very pretty place," he told her, smiling. "But I suppose that you know that. And, I can see how a bit more space just might gave you more work area.""There is lots of room for expansion," she said, "and I would want to take advantage of the lighting possibilities. You know, the bright morning sunlight does wonders for me when I'm working, so I would want to take that into consideration. Perhaps a glass roof would do it. Why don't we take a look out back?""Fine," he said. He climbed down off of his stool and he followed her as she led the way toward the rear of the house. It annoyed her to see that he was very much interested in watching her rear end and she was relieved somewhat when they walked out into the back yard sunshine. She held the cool glass against her lips and she watched him as he looked around and estimated the possibilities available to her."No problem," he said, sipping at his drink. "We can pick up just this side of the kitchen doorway and run out as far as you like.""I thought that twenty feet would do it," she said."That will give you lots of room," he said. "Now, do you want a formal bid?""No," she said. "I trust you. You can begin working on the drawings whenever you are ready. I have already made a sketch so you should have no problems. You take out the permit and engage the contractor and the others, don't you?""Yes," he said. "And I supervise the job. I suppose that you want it done as quickly as possible.""Yes," she said. "I do."She turned then and she was about to begin walking back into her house, but she stumbled and then she fell and the glass with her drink in it went skittering across the back lawn. She felt a quick twinge of pain in her ankle and then when he reached down to help her up, his hands hurt her again and she was suddenly, abruptly, on fire with sickening sexuality, overwhelming desires too raw, too primitive to stifle. Somehow, when he pulled her up onto her feet, she slammed against his naked chest and the softness of her breasts flattened against his firm body. His arms went around her and then he was murmuring tiny, fragmented words against her ear and for a moment, she could hear nothing of what he was saying, and then his mouth found hers and he was kissing her and his words were sandwiched in between kisses and she could hear every one of them. She knew that she was shaking and shivering and he was, too, and she didn't realize it at the moment but her hands were caught between them and her fingers were busy with his immense erection and the soft, bulging flesh that was beneath. He was not aware of what she was doing and she was not aware of it, either, at the moment. Later she would remember that she had been the aggressor and she would try to understand why she had been like that, but while his lips were busy with her mouth and his words were telling her how lovely, how desirable she was, she could hear nothing else.