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   T h e  G R E E N Y  w o r l d  D o m i n a t i o n  T a s k  F o r c e ,
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                        "The Passion that Kills" by Otis

  ----- GwD:  The American Dream with a Twist -- of Lime ***** Issue #78 -----
            ----- release date:  05-25-00 ***** ISSN 1523-1585 -----

[NOTE:  This article is intended for a mature audience.  It contains
descriptions of sexual acts many might deem "perverse."  We are unaware of any
pornography laws and/or lawmakers this article violates.  If it is illegal to
have adult text in your area, don't read any further, or we ain't responsible.

This article contains detailed descriptions of sexual intercourse.  You should
most likely quit reading now if you are offended by sexual content, or if words
such as "ass," "pussy," "cock," "cunt," "butt plug," and/or "rimjob" offend you.
If you don't stop reading, try not to soil the keyboard.

This article does not necessarily reflect the views of either GwD Publications,
its parent company (GwD, Inc.); nor any member, employee, or officer thereof;
nor do any of the aforementioned necessarily advocate the behaviors described.
However, we might and probably do.  After all, our pseudo-religious/quasi-
political philosophy *is* founded on PORNO.]

    It was a sunny day, too nice to stay indoors.  She was walking along the
street, not going anywhere in particular, when she noticed someone following
her.  She quickly looked back; he was a large man, not fat but powerful.  He had
a strange look about him - a look of determination.  He wore a ragged hat that
covered most of his face, faded jeans, and an old dust-covered bomber's jacket.
    She quickened her step, turning at the next corner.  She kept walking.  When
she looked back again, he was still there.  This street was nearly empty.  She
broke into a run and turned again into an alleyway coming face to face with...
    A brick wall.
    There was nowhere to run.  She turned around to face him.  He slowed to a
walk and approached her, a sly smile on his face.  He reached inside his jacket
and slowly drew forth a large knife.  It flashed in the sunlight.  He brought it
to her slender neck and said in a gruff voice, "If you do exactly as I say, I
won't have to hurt you."
    He didn't want to have to kill her; they weren't as much fun when they were
dead.
    She reached up and touched the hand that was holding the knife.  Grasping
his wrist, she said in a softly trembling tone, "If you mean to do this to me,
at least let's go do it somewhere clean.  I don't want any trouble."
    He stepped back, surprised at her words.  He nodded slowly and said, "All
right.  But don't try anything stupid; I'll use this if you try to run again."
    She turned mutely and began to walk out of the alley.  He watched her as she
moved.  She was beautiful, this one.  Late teens, early twenties, maybe.  She
was wearing a white sun dress with a low back.  Young and firm; he would enjoy
this.
    Her long red hair streamed behind her as the wind blew through it.  She
walked almost five blocks before stopping in front of a brick apartment
building.  She opened the door and walked in with the man following closely
behind.  The place was spacious and airy.  He broke the silence and asked her,
"This whole place your's?"
    She replied, "Yes, this is not a very good neighborhood and places are
cheap.  Now can we get this over with?"
    He reached up to cuff her for her insolence, but his hand stopped just
inches from her face.  There was something in her eyes that made him somehow
cold inside.
    He walked behind her until they came to a room near the back of the
building.  The room had a large bed in it, but little else.  He came up behind
her and ran his hands down her breasts, over her belly, around her hips.  He
then reached around to her back, and slipping his hands underneath the white
garment, pushed the straps off of her shoulders.  He took her breasts into his
hands and found that her nipples were hardening under his fingers.  He moved his
hands down her body, pushing the dress down, and exposing her bare skin.  The
cloth dropped to the floor in a heap.  He wrapped his arms around her and moved
his hands into her panties.  Her abdominal muscles tensed as he felt a soft fuzz
that was quickly moistening as he reached her cleft.  He removed her panties and
turned her around to face him.
    Her skin was pale and was the color of milk.  She had a light dusting of
freckles on her face, breasts, and back.  Her breasts were exquisitely shaped,
perfect spheres suspended in the nets of her creamy flesh.  Her legs were long
and luscious, firm and muscular.
    She reached up and took off his hat, her breasts rising and falling with the
motion of her arms and her breathing.  She slowly unzipped his jacket and
unbuttoned his shirt.  She slipped them off his smooth, muscular shoulders and
ran her hands down his back, also hard with muscles.  She then undid the
fastening on his pants and slid her hand into them.  Her hand curled around his
stiffening cock, and he slid off his pants and stood there, unclothed in front
of her.  She took a step back and looked him over; there was not an ounce of fat
on his body.  If it wasn't for his attitude, he would be perfect, she thought as
she gazed at him, her eyes traveling down his body.  She gazed down between his
legs and saw his organ.  It was about ten inches long and two inches thick.  The
reddish organ slowly throbbed as she looked at it.  She smiled and asked, "What
does your mother feed you?"  He remained quiet.
    She reached her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, clinging to him
like a baby to its mother.  She brought her legs up and hooked her feet behind
his back.  He held her up by the ass and, adjusting himself, slowly lowered her
down onto his waiting phallus.  She sighed as he entered her and filled her
deepest recesses with his presence.  He carried her over and laid her down at
the head of the bed.  When she made contact with the soft sheets, she unhooked
her legs and spread them wide, welcoming him.  She drew her knees up and tilted
her hips forward.  She ran her fingers up and down his back as he began
thrusting himself into her, pushing himself relentlessly into her warm, wet,
delightfully soft canal.  God, she's tight, he thought as he felt the familiar
reactions coming on, only this time stronger than they had ever been.  She
started to moan and whimper at each of his thrusts, and he began to quicken the
speed.  She started to cry out and suddenly, her legs tightened into a vice of
flesh around him.  She squeezed him both without and within in an explosive
orgasm.  For an instant, she screamed, then just as suddenly fell silent and
relaxed her body, exhausted from the effort.  He began to thrust into her again,
and she moaned softly, the pressure building up once more within her.  His
thrusts came even faster now, and within minutes, she climaxed again.  As she
did, he exploded inside her, releasing his pent-up energy into her waiting
crevice.  He groaned with the exertion and collapsed on top of her.  Her soft
breasts gave slightly under him, as they were compressed by his weight.  His
breath began to slow and he became more quiet, hardly moving.
    Minutes passed, and the woman opened her eyes.  She gently rolled him off of
her and she felt his now-limp penis pull out of her.  She lay on her back beside
him and spread her legs once again.  Her hand went between her legs to feel the
softness of the down-thin pubic hair.  She parted the lips of her vagina and
slid two fingers inside herself.  She found her clitoris and slowly began to rub
it between her thumb and forefinger.  Her fingers clenched tightly as she
orgasmed twice more, each more powerful than the last.
    She sat up, a flush spreading over her pale face and breasts, as she looked
at the man.  She crawled over him, stopping when she was kneeling before his
crotch.  She bent her face down until his penis was mere inches from her face.
She reached out her tongue and encircled it.  Still wet with their mingled
juices, it had a sweet taste.  His penis began to harden again as she moved it
in and out of her mouth.
    His eyes flashed open, and he began to sit up.  She left his crotch and
crawled back on top of him, holding her hand over his mouth and pushing him
slowly back to rest on the pillow.  She straddled him with her legs, like she
was mounting a horse.  Grasping the massive cock with both hands, she aimed it
at herself.  She kneeled and moved forward, until the tip of it was touching her
swollen vagina.  She let her weight down until her hips touched his, completely
impaling herself on his huge pike.
    Thus coupled, she began to undulate her body, slowly moving herself from
side to side, up and down.  Her breasts bobbed with the motion and he felt the
build up.  He would come soon.  She moved faster and faster, her hair tossing
back and forth as she neared orgasm.  Suddenly, she squeezed him again.  Feeling
strangely weak, he reached up to push her off of him.  She took hold of his
shoulders and pinned him down on the bed.  He found that he was completely
unable to move.  She sat straight up and, as his eyes closed, he could see an
aura of light surrounding her head.  Then he lost consciousness.  She climaxed
again and collapsed over him.  A few minutes later, she climbed off his body and
stood up.
    Glancing over at him, she brushed herself off.  Delicious, she
thought as she beheld his body, which was slowly changing.  The skin was sagging
as the flesh beneath began to melt away.  Soon it was just hanging on his bones.
Then they began to crumble, until there was nothing left of him but a pile of
dust which was slowly blown away by a breeze from an open window.
    She watched the process wistfully; it always happened like that.  "Maybe I
should have let this one live.  It hasn't been that good in decades."
    She had lived for centuries, and would continue to live, taking her
sustenance in the same bizarre fashion.  She thought back to her beginnings; she
had been the bastard daughter of a Scottish slave and the Roman soldier who
raped her.  Her mother, the slave girl, had not known what had actually happened
until her next cycle never came.  She went to the druids with her hate and asked
them to help her get revenge.  They said that the price would be as great for
the child as it would be for herself.  The woman had said that price was not an
issue; the child's life would be hell anyway.  With that, the wizened druids
brought down a terrible curse:  the unborn girlchild would live forever, taking
her nourishment by draining the lifeforce of evil men.
    She turned and walked out of the room, tossing her hair behind her.  "Oh
well," she thought, "I'll find another one just as easily."  With that, the door
closed behind her.

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