Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The house is settled right by the sea, and the crashing of waves only heighten your anxiety. There are no neighbors around — no one to help you.

The woman has a firm grip on your arm as she rings the doorbell twice. 

You look up at her. She’s maybe two inches taller than you, but much stronger. Her hair is colored jet black and her face is pale and translucent. Her jaw is set tight as she checks her watch.

About a month ago, this woman kidnapped you. You don’t know her name — she goes by “K” sometimes — and you don’t even know where you are right now. But you have a very good idea of why she kidnapped you. She hasn’t made a very big effort to conceal the nature of her work.

Distantly, you hear footsteps, and the door opens wide to reveal a very familiar woman — Taylor Swift.

You’ve seen her before on TV, and you’ve heard her songs on the radio. You’ve never been an avid fan, but she’s famous enough for you to know quite a bit about her. But if she’s K’s client, you’ve obviously been misinformed about her kindness.

“Come in,” she says, smiling at you, and you feel your stomach lurch.

She looks at you like you’re the prey. You probably are.

Her “house” is more like a mansion. You can’t help but look up in wonder at the high ceilings and big hallways. She leads you to the sitting room, where a man awaits.

You recognize him, too. You’ve seen his pictures in the tabloids before.

”This is my husband, Joe,” Taylor says. “Feel free to sit down anywhere.”

You weren’t aware that she was married. 

“Nice to finally meet you, Taylor, Joe,” K shakes both of their hands. “Thank you for having us over.” She places a hand on your shoulder, and you flinch slightly. “This is her.”

“It’s no problem at all. In fact, thank you for taking the time to come all the way to Rhode Island,” Taylor says, then turns to you. "Hi, you can call me Taylor.”

”Hi Taylor,” you say quietly, looking down at your toes. Your mind is reeling. Rhode Island? You were from California, and you were pretty sure that K's place was there too. Had you really been passed out that long on the car ride?

”Would either of you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee? Tea?”

“Tea, please,” K says.

Taylor taps something on her phone then puts it down. She looks at you this time, really looks. 

“She’s pretty,” she remarks. “Must be pricey.”

”I’m sure you could afford it,” K smiles pleasantly.

”You’re probably right. Joe?”

You focus your gaze on the blond man, who looks you up and down.

"Yeah, she's nice to look at, that's for sure."

Taylor hums in agreement. "And as for… her other aspects?”

”She’s a very well-behaved girl,” K says, then stops as someone else enters the room.

”You can continue,” Taylor says. “That’s just our maid.”

The first thing you notice about the maid is that she’s heavily pregnant. The second thing you notice is that she looks much too young to be pregnant. She looks your age, possibly younger.

She’s holding a tray of tea, and she bends over to set it down. The maid uniform she is wearing is low-cut and very revealing — without meaning to, you catch a glimpse of her bare ass, and you turn your head in embarrassment.

”Thank you, McKenna. You can go back to your room now.”

Taylor pours four cups of tea and passes it around.

”As I was saying earlier,” K continues, “she’s very well-behaved. She’s a little shy at first, but she can be talkative once you get to know her. She’s a virgin; hasn’t even been touched.”

Taylor nods in satisfaction. “Can we see her?”

K gives you a stern look, as if to say, Don’t make a scene. She then reaches over and pulls your shirt up to reveal your breasts. At K’s insistence, you’re not wearing a bra, and your face reddens in embarrassment. You look away, unable to meet the singer’s eyes.

You hear Joe murmuring something, but you can't quite make out what he says. 

"That's good," Taylor finally says, and K lets go of your shirt.

"Stand up," K says, and you follow her orders. "Turn around."

She lifts the skirt you're wearing. You're wearing a thong — once again insisted on by K — and you feel a cool breeze on your ass. It seems like an eternity until K pulls your skirt back down and tells you to sit down. You do so, and look down at your lap.

"What do you think, Joe?"

"I like her if you like her."

"Great. Should we talk outside?" K looks pointedly at you, and Taylor agrees.

You're left alone in the room with Joe, and you sit in silence. What do you even say to a man whose wife is about to buy you illegally, probably for demented reasons?

"Are you hungry?" he finally says.

You blink, in surprise. That was not what you expected. "What?"

"Yeah, we can have the maid make you some food if you are."

You think back to the young, pregnant girl you met earlier. Was she being forced to work here? Was she kidnapped, too? You wonder if that's why Taylor wants to buy you — to make you work for her.

"No, it's okay," you say. "I'm not very hungry." That was a lie. You hadn't eaten in three days, but you didn't want to eat the food in this house, not until you found out exactly what you were doing here.

"Alright. Let us know when you are. McKenna makes a mean shrimp scampi. Do you like shrimp?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"Good, me too."

The silence that follows is awkward, but is soon interrupted by Taylor re-entering the room.

"You're one expensive girl," she says. "Come on, I'll show you around the house."

Joe excuses himself, muttering something about work, and you follow Taylor up the stairs.

"The house has a name — Holiday House. Rebekah Harkness used to live here. She was a socialite. I even wrote a song about it, it's called 'The Last Great American Dynasty.'" Taylor rattles on about Holiday House, and you listen attentively, in case she asks you about it later.

She shows you some of the bathrooms, the guest bedrooms, her studio, and the mini gym.

"That's the master bedroom," Taylor says, gesturing at a pair of wooden double doors, and then points at the room straight across from it. "And that's your room."

She opens the door and invites you inside.

The room is twice the size of your bedroom at home. There are windows that take up almost the entire wall, and there is even a loft. You're taken aback by how nice everything is.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah. It's so... big."

"Of course it is," Taylor caresses your cheek and you swallow hard, trying not to turn your head away. "Only the best for my new girl."

You don't say thank you, but Taylor doesn't seem to mind.

"I didn't know what colors you liked, so I just used some blankets I had lying around. We'll shop for new ones tomorrow."

You don't know what to say to that. It was hard to believe that this kind woman had just bought her off of K.

"Let's go to my room now."

You trail after her wordlessly. She swings open the double doors to the master bedroom and ushers you in. Joe's sitting on the bed, scrolling on his phone.

"Go sit next to Joe," Taylor orders.

Tentatively, you perch on the king-sized mattress. You glance at Joe, who puts his phone down on the bedside table. You dig your fingers into the soft material of the blanket and watch as Taylor walks over, a box in hand. She sets the box down on the bed.

Taylor runs her fingers through your hair. Then, she tugs on your shirt. You let her pull it off, and she discards it carelessly. You cover yourself with your arm, but she gently pulls them away, revealing your bare breasts. She unzips your skirt and takes that off, too, until you're only left in your thongs.

"Beautiful," she whispers, but you don't feel that way. "Go lay your head down on the pillow."

You do as she asks, and bile rises up in your throat. You know what's coming next.

Joe's still sitting at the edge of the bed, but Taylor's taking her shirt off, then her pants. She's wearing a matching lacy bra and underwear. She opens the box, and you look away. You have a good idea of what she's going to take out next.

Taylor climbs onto the bed and places a cool hand on your body. You look down to see her kneeling beside you, and you let out a little gasp when you see the peach strap-on she's donned.

Her hand makes circles on your stomach, then moves downward. You let out a little whimper as she touches you between your legs. She makes little circles, this time with her index finger.

"No," you whisper, squirming away.

Taylor doesn't say anything in response. She simply holds down your hips with her other hand and continues to rub circles into your clit. 

"I don't want this," you say when she removes your thong as well.

"Shhh," Taylor says soothingly. "It's okay, you'll like it soon."

Her finger trails downward. You feel her poking at your entrance.

"Please," you say. "I don't want to."

A sob is forced out of you when she pushes a finger inside. You buck you hips, trying to get away. It's too dry. With her thumb toying with your clit, she pushes her middle finger in and out of you. A tear slides down your cheek.

"Good girl," Taylor says as you involuntarily grow wetter. She kisses your lower stomach.

She puts another finger in you, and it hurts this time. Another sob escapes your throat.

When she finally takes her fingers out, you have no time to feel relieved. You watch fearfully as she lubes up the girthy strap on. When Taylor spreads your legs, you don't resist, despite every cell in your body screaming for you to. There's no point, you reason. You can't run away, and fighting back is useless. There's nothing stopping her from pinning you down and fucking you. And a small part of you, a dark corner of your mind, thinks that maybe, you should let it happen.

Accepting your fate, you relax your body.

Taylor scoots closer to you and bends your knees so that your thighs are pushed against your torso. It's a humiliating position to be in, with your legs wide open and privates splayed out to the world. Without warning, Taylor slaps your pussy. Not hard enough to cause pain, but you still squeak in surprise. Then, she lines the peach strap-on against your opening, and pushes in, slowly.

"It hurts," you whimper. The stretch feels more like burning, and you paw futilely at her arm.

She ignores you. She fondles with your breasts, and you sob. 

"Taylor..."

"In bed you're going to call me Mommy, and Joe Daddy, understood?"

You feel sick, but you nod anyway.

"M-mommy," you stutter. "Please, it hurts."

"Do you want me to go slower?"

You want her to stop. You say yes anyway.

"You have such a pretty pussy." Taylor pinches your nipple, hard. You moan in pain. "Joe, do you want to fuck her mouth?"

You can't stop yourself as tears begin to stream down your face. You want it all to stop, but you don't protest when Taylor flips you over so that Joe can have easier access to your mouth.

"No teeth," Joe reminds you gently before nudging his hard cock at your lips. Obediently, you open your mouth.

You sob around his cock as he makes little thrusts into your mouth. Taylor's thrusts grow rougher, too. It doesn't hurt as much anymore — only a dull throbbing sensation — but the violation makes you sob even harder. You feel Joe wipe your tears away, but they're simply replaced by new tears.

Against your will, you feel pleasure building up in your body when Taylor touches your clit again. You squirm, but there's nowhere to go, with Taylor blocking one end and Joe at the other.

"You're so wet," Taylor says, and your face reddens. "Good girl."

Pleasure continues to build, until you feel yourself nearing orgasm. You whimper loudly. You don't want this.

"Are you gonna come, baby?" Taylor asks you.

You screw your eyes shut. You don't want to come.

Joe reaches down to rub your breasts, and that sends you over the edge. Pleasure encompasses your body, and you come hard, legs shaking uncontrollably and moans leaving your throat. It's the longest orgasm you've ever had, and you arch your back to bask in the afterglow. 

"Good girl," you hear Taylor murmuring.

She's still fucking you, but you barely feel it. Joe has pulled out.

"I'm going to come," he says, and Taylor flips you over again, her strap-on still in you.

"Come on her tits," she tells him.

Streams of warm come land on your chest, and you feel your eyes droop slightly. The orgasm has tired you out.

You hear Taylor nearing her own orgasm, and her moans are the last thing you hear before you black out.

Chapter Text

When you wake up, you’re still in Taylor’s bed. A blanket has been carefully placed over your body, and you rub your eyes blearily and look around the room.

Taylor's at the desk, typing away on her laptop, and Joe is nowhere to be found. You look down at your own body to see that you're wearing pajamas—the sweat, tears, and come from last night are all gone. Your nether regions still throb in pain. Memories from last night come flooding back, and you feel nauseous. 

"Good morning!"

Taylor's voice is cheery, and you hate it. You hate that she sounds so innocent, so carefree, as if what happened last night was just a normal thing to her.

"I gave you a bath while you were asleep," Taylor says. "I hope you don't mind."

The thought of her touching you while you're in your most vulnerable state disturbs you greatly. You don't respond.

"Let's go down for dinner." Taylor closes her laptop and strides over to you. She offers her hand, and reluctantly, you take it.

She takes you to your room first. She opens the closet door and gestures at the garments inside.

"These are all yours. You can wear whatever you want. Come downstairs when you're done dressing. You remember the way, right?"

You wait until she leaves the room to look through your new wardrobe. It's pretty normal, you note with relief. There are no pants, only skirts, but they're nothing like the revealing clothes that K made you wear. When you find the undergarments, however, that's when you realize that it's not all regular. There are no bras, and the only type of underwear you can find are lacy g-strings. You dig through them and wear the one that provides you with the most coverage, but even then you feel horribly exposed. You put on one of the skirts, then an oversized sweatshirt to make up for the lack of a bra.

You don't go downstairs right away. Instead, you slump to the ground and burrow your face into your arm. You don't want to be here. You want to go home. You hate Taylor, you hate Joe, you hate K. 

You wipe away the few stray tears that have escaped, and stare blankly into the void. You want to sob, or scream, but your body refuses to. Instead, you just feel numb. It's a while before you get back up, but you do eventually. You don't want to keep Taylor waiting for too long, in case she gets angry.

Taylor and Joe are already seated at the dining table when you enter. You see the maid from yesterday, standing silently in a corner, and you approach the table hesitantly.

"Sit down," Taylor says. "Are you hungry?"

You nod. The table is topped with a variety of foods, and Taylor hands you a plate.

"Have as much as you want. You're looking a little thin."

You take a slice of buttered toast, and some scrambled egg. As your hunger overtakes you, you shovel the food into your mouth quickly. You notice Taylor watching you fondly, and you feel your skin crawl. Her smile looks so... genuine. Your bites slow down, and you pause to study your surroundings.

Taylor has a half-eaten muffin on her plate, and orange slices. She's following your every move, like a hawk. Joe's sitting next to Taylor, flipping through the morning newspaper. They almost look like a normal couple. It makes you sick. How could they do this to you? 

Slowly, your gaze flits to the maid. McKenna, was her name. Her maid uniform shows an ample amount of cleavage, and the top is more like a bra than a blouse. She's wearing a dog collar, and her dark hair has been tied back into a tight ponytail. Her stomach is completely exposed, and there are angry red stretchmarks everywhere. She looks like she's going to pop any minute now. Her skirt is much too short, and barely seems to cover her privates. On her feet, she's wearing lacy white socks and black Mary Janes. She looks like a maid in a low-budget porno, except way too young. How many more girls have they corrupted like this?

"Do you want to meet her?" Taylor asks, and you shake your head. She calls McKenna over anyway. "Say hello, McKenna."

"Hello," the maid says. Taylor reaches out to knead her ass, and she stiffens.

"Hi," you reply quietly.

"Isn't she so pretty with her tummy so full and round?" Taylor asks you. "We adopted her almost a year ago. The first few months, she wouldn't stop struggling. There was a lot of screaming, and attempts to escape. That's why we had to breed her and turn her into a maid. She originally had your position."

Her tone is dark, as if warning you not to act out. You weren't going to anyway, but the threat of pregnancy really shoves any rebellious feelings far, far away.

Taylor seems to notice your fear. "Don't worry, we're not going to impregnate you. You wouldn't want to ruin your pretty pussy giving birth, would you?"

You nod frantically.

"Besides," she continues, "it would be weird if there was pregnancy involved in your position."

"What is my position?" you ask. 

"You're our new daughter, of course!" Taylor exclaims.

That is the answer you were least expecting. Our new captive, maybe. Our new slave. Even our new lover seemed like a possibility, in a fucked up way. But daughter? Taylor bought you so she could commit some sort of pseudoincest? Your stomach churns.

"Why else do you think you have such a nice room? Or a new wardrobe?"

You swallow hard. "Mothers usually don't have sex with their daughters."

Taylor laughs at that. "You're funny," she says. "It doesn't matter what's usual or not here. I can do whatever I want to you."

She rakes your eyes up and down your body, looking like a hungry lion. Then, a sound of a sharp slap startles you. You focus your gaze back onto Taylor to see that she's lifted up McKenna's skirt, and you can see a pink handprint on her ass. And settled between her cheeks is a jeweled butt plug.

"It's real diamond," Taylor says proudly. "I got it custom made." She twists it around, and McKenna lets out a small mewl. "We keep her plugged up in case Joe wants to use her ass. He can't fuck her pussy, though. The only pussy he's allowed to fuck is mine," Taylor declares. "Right, honey?"

"Of course," Joe replies, giving her a lovestruck smile. 

"But then how did you get her pregnant?" you point out. 

"It was a one time thing. He pulled out immediately after." Taylor is still playing with McKenna's butt plug. "Now, I know that the two of you might want to spend some time together, so I'll give you some time to do that tomorrow, okay? Today's going to be a busy day. Lots to do."

"Lots to do" just turns out to be a lot of sex.

Right now, Taylor has ties you down to a table, spread eagle. 

You struggle in your bonds in vain. You try to cry out, but you've been gagged. Taylor is holding a vibrator to your clit, and you thrash as you feel another orgasm approaching. You can't. You can't. You've already come three times. This is too much.

The gag muffles your screams as you come. Your eyes roll back and you clench tightly against nothing, pleasure encompassing your entire body. For a split second, you wish you had something inside of your pussy. You ride out your high in a blissful, mindless state. When you finally come down, Taylor doesn't take the vibrator away. She keeps pushing it against your clit, and you try to get away. The overstimulation is too much.

Please, you try to say, but all that comes out is a muffled moan. Your legs shake wildly, and your hips buck up and down.

When Taylor finally turns the vibrator off, there are tears streaming down your face, and you sob in relief.

"You're so pretty when you come," she says, voice sultry. "It almost makes me want to tie you down to a sybian and leave you there for hours and hours and hours."

You whimper in response.

"Don't worry," she says. "I won't. Not today, at least."

She strokes her hand up and down your body, stopping at your breasts. She brings her hand down hard, once, then twice. Your nipples sting but get hard anyway. She twists them next, so hard that you're scared that they might come off completely, however unrealistic that is.

Taylor takes off your gag, and you move your jaw around, trying to get rid of the pain of the stretch. She climbs up onto the table and hitches her skirt up. She's not wearing any underwear.

"Lick my pussy," she demands as she sits on your face.

Hesitantly, you swipe at her pussy with your tongue. It's salty and wet.

"Faster," she says, and you comply.

You lick up and down, then in circles. You lick her clit, pussy, and her perineum. You're not sure if you're doing this correctly, but judging by her moans, Taylor doesn't seem to care.

"Mmm, yeah," she says. "Faster. Faster."

Your tongue is tired but you force yourself to lick, and you do so until she comes. She lets out an ear-shattering shriek and salty come fills your mouth. You have no choice but to swallow it, and you do so with a grimace.

A bit later, Taylor climbs off clumsily, and pats your cheek affectionately.

"Good girl," she says. "Did you like licking my pussy?"

"Yes," you say, even though you didn't.

"Did you like the taste of my pussy? Was my come delicious?"

"Yes," you say again.

Taylor laughs. No, not a laugh. It's closer to a giggle. A maniacal one.

"I'll return the favor, if you want."

"I've already come four times," you protest, but Taylor isn't listening.

She undoes your ropes and flips you over.

"Ass up and legs apart," she tells you, and you stick your ass up.

She ties you down again, and she strokes your pussy with her finger. Then, she moves upwards to your asshole. The unfamiliar touch makes you shiver.

"It's so pink and pretty," she says. "I'm going to play with it later."

Then, she starts licking your pussy enthusiastically, as if it's a plate of whipped cream. Involuntarily, you feel pleasure building up again.

"Are you going to come?" Taylor asks you when you're close.

"Yes," you moan.

"Say my name," Taylor orders.

"Taylor."

"Not that one, you dummy." A slap lands on your ass. "My other one. Did you forget already?"

"No, Mommy," you say. The words feel weird on your tongue.

"Ask me to make you come."

"Please make me come, Mommy." 

Her licks grow more frantic, and you finally burst into orgasm. You moan at the top of your lungs as the pleasure blinds your vision.

"Mommy!" you cry out. "Mommy, I'm coming!"

Afterwards, you slump on the table like a limp doll, and Taylor rubs your ass.

"Such a pretty girl," she says. "You must be so tired from all of those orgasms. Let's go to my room so you can take a nap."

You feel her hauling you up, and she carries you bridal style all the way to her bedroom. She lays you down on the bed gently, and covers you with a blanket.

"I'm going to ruin your sheets," you mumble sleepily. You didn't want her to get angry about it later.

"I'll just have McKenna throw them in the wash," Taylor runs her fingers through your hair. "Just sleep. And when you wake up, I want to fuck your ass."

You don't have the energy to respond. You don't even have the energy to feel afraid.