("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text ------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2014. Please do not remove the author information nor make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. ------------------------------------------------------- Taylor Swift Meets Satan by Tag Johnson (tag_johnson1960@hotmail.com) *** Singer Taylor Swift finally succumbs to madness and the forces of darkness; commits rape and murder and fucks the Prince of Darkness. This is a fantasy; please do not do any of this stuff. (MF, FF, nc, bd, intr, preg, occult, v, sn, celeb-parody) *** Part One: Paris Hilton Taylor Swift waited in the darkness. The garage attached to the mansion was not particularly big by Hollywood standards, but easily holding twenty sport and luxury cars she was impressed and wondered how long it was going to take to go on the open market after tonight and how much it was going to go for? The opening of the garage door shut her day-dreaming down. A seemingly block long Mercedes limo pulled in and parked. A gigantic black man in a dark suit stepped out from behind the steering wheel and opened the back door. She stepped out, flawless, breathtakingly beautiful, wearing a short, golden, shimmering, silk dress. It was Paris Hilton; heiress to the Hilton Hotel fortune, millionaire many times over, pseudo-celebrity, slut and whore. Taylor clicked the safety off on her silenced nine millimeter and prepared to make her move but the bodyguard’s sudden action froze her in place. The bodyguard grabbed Paris by her long blonde hair and shoved her to the floor. She glared up at him and he responded with, “Strip bitch.” Paris rolled onto her back and pulled her dress over her head revealing a not unexpected lack of underwear; still on her back she kicked off her high heels and clumsily yanked off her stockings. She looked up at her bodyguard panting. “Crawl, you white bitch,” he commanded. Naked, Paris got on all fours and began to crawl towards him while he laughingly slowly stepped backwards keeping pace with her. When he stopped, the two of them were almost on top of Taylor. “Nigger lover and her nigger.” Taylor thought and almost killed the bodyguard then, but decided to watch what was going to happen next. Grinning, the bodyguard said to his charge, “You know what to do next, you white whore.” Paris crawled to his feet and began licking and kissing the floor at his feet, she moved to his shoes; licking, kissing and sucking them. She got on her knees, unzipped his pants and jerked her head back to avoid the monstrous cock that shot out. The bodyguard grabbed her by her hair with one hand and his dick by another and began slapping her across the face with it. “Beg for it bitch,” he ordered. “Please let me suck your dick master. Please let your white whore suck you big black dick. Please master, please I love you master. I love your dick, I want it so bad. I’ll do anything for you master,” she sobbed. The bodyguard slapped her across the face with his massive cock one more time and ordered her, “Suck it, you cheap little whore, suck my cock, swallow my come, and don’t lose a drop.” Paris frantically grabbed his dick with both hands and shoved the head in her mouth. Taylor Swift was impressed with her enthusiasm and technique even though she couldn’t get even half of the monster down her throat. Closing his eyes, the bodyguard rolled his head back, his moans and grunts mingling with the obscene slurping sounds Paris was making. He came with a grunt and looked down on his mistress and when he gave her a bestial grin and opened his mouth to speak, Taylor Swift stepped out of her hiding place, placed the silencer against the base of his skull and unceremoniously pulled the trigger. Despite the silencer, the sound echoed throughout the garage as the bodyguard, stiff as the proverbial board fell over. Paris opened her mouth to scream but dazedly fell in a heap when Taylor smashed the butt of her pistol against her temple. As Paris lay there she groggily looked up as her attacker. Stunned, she recognized the singer with her magnificent mane of golden blonde hair that fell well past her shoulders and confusedly took in her all black SWAT type outfit and the pistol with its silencer. “What?” She asked, momentarily forgetting that the man she had just blown was lying dead just a couple of feet away. Taylor answered by burying her boot into the prone woman’s belly. As she lay there gasping for air, Taylor explained. “You’re a whore and I’m sick of whores like you.” She placed her pistol back into her shoulder holster and stood above her helpless victim. Paris stared in shock as Taylor unzipped her pants and a large plastic strap-on popped out. “You like sucking dick whore? Then suck mine.” She commanded the cowering, terrified, naked woman. Terrified and stunned, Paris scrambled to her knees and frantically began sucking her captor’s plastic cock. After a few minutes, Taylor pulled her dildo out of Paris’s mouth, she grabbed Paris by her mouth and spit into her face and slapped her hard and shoved her on her back. Taylor knelt between Paris’ legs and yanked them apart. She lay on top of Paris and shoved her big plastic dildo up her dry, unprepared, cunt. Paris cried out in pain but dared not move as Taylor moved in and out. Taylor grunted as she raped Paris’ cunt, her own pussy growing wet from the pressure the base strap-on made against her pussy; the joy of punishing the whore, the excitement of killing the nigger, and above all the charge of knowing what was to come. So to speak. After several minutes of this, Taylor rolled Paris onto to her stomach; she kicked her legs apart and as she pinned her arms together over her with one hand, she guided the head of her plastic dick to Paris’ tiny virginal asshole. Paris’s eyes bugged out and she cried out. “Please no not that!” And screamed in agony as Taylor’s artificial cock tore her open. Taylor closed her eyes, reveling in the pain she was causing and luxuriating in Paris’ screams. In and out she slammed her rock hard, plastic dick into Paris’ ass and was shocked when she felt an orgasm explode through her. She collapsed on top of Paris, catching her breath, recovering from the surprise orgasm as her prey continued to sob in pain, humiliation, and horror. After a few minutes Taylor felt recovered. She rolled Paris back onto her back; she thought about how beautiful she seemed; soaked with sweat, her face smeared with tears and makeup. Taylor stroked her face and gently brushed her hair out of her face. “It’s almost over,” Taylor assured her. “It is?” Paris plaintively asked in a little girl’s hopeful voice. “Yes,” Taylor replied, and with one lightening fast move, pulled a long, needle like dagger from her belt and rammed it up Paris’s chin and well into her brain. Paris convulsed once, almost throwing Taylor off of her and died. Taylor Swift stared at Paris for a long time; her eyes were bulged open, her mouth was wide open as if she was still trying to scream. Taylor incuriously noted you could see the blade of the dagger in Paris’ mouth. It reminded her of a similar scene from Dune. Bored now, she got up, pulled her pants down, squatted over Paris and let loose a long relaxing piss and wondered what time it was. Part Two: Lindsay Lohan Taylor Swift waited, hidden in the bushes, armed only with a blackjack and a pair of handcuffs. As she waited, she fantasized about what she wanted to do to the little whore she was waiting for. For years she had watched Lindsay Lohan waste her talent and potential, showing her ass sometimes literally on Entertainment Tonight and in the tabloids. “Well that was about to come to an end,” She thought. She smiled as the Ferrari pulled into the driveway. Annoyed although not surprised, she watched as Lindsay stumbled drunkenly out of her car. “This was going to be too easy.” She thought as stepped up behind Lindsay and brought the blackjack down on the back of her skull. Lindsay groggily awakened the next morning. For a moment she thought she had passed out someplace strange, an event that had become more and more common over the last few years. But her eyes widened as she looked around her; the room was clearly a dungeon, stone walls, floor, and ceiling with one wrought iron door. There were only three objects in the entire room; a strange X-shaped table, set of torture instruments on the wall, and a pair of iron cuffs hanging from the ceiling. The door opened and in walked the most terrifying sight she had ever seen in her short and soon to end life. She recognized her instantly of course, Taylor Swift was one of the most beautiful and famous women in the world. But no one had ever seen her like this; she was dressed only in knee high, shiny black leather, high-heeled boots and matching elbow length gloves. But it was the huge strap-on dildo she was wearing and the long coiled whip that she carried that froze Lindsay’s blood in her veins. “What is this, what are you doing?” Lindsay shakily asked as she rose to her feet. “I’m going to rape you, torture you, and kill you,” Taylor replied. Before Lindsay could reply, from twenty feet away, the whip whistled from Taylor’s hand and wrapped around Lindsay’s ankles and a flick from Taylor’s wrist yanked her crashing to the floor. With another flip of her wrist, the whip was again coiled in her hand. “Now strip!” Taylor commanded. A hesitation of Lohan’s part and again the whip struck with the speed of a cobra, it almost consciously wrapped itself around Lindsay’s waist and when withdrawn it spun her around and sent her crashing to the cold stone floor and left a bright streak around her waist. Lindsay screamed and screamed and frantically tried to undress as Taylor brought the whip down over and over. Even after she had ripped off her clothes, the whip found her leaving its mark. Finally tiring, Taylor stopped and looked at Lindsay, bloody and begging for mercy. She ordered Lohan to the cuffs hanging from the ceiling. Taylor fixed the cuffs tightly enough on Lindsay’s wrists just cut off circulation and adjusted their height so that she was standing tiptoed. Without warning, she slammed her leather clad fist into Lindsay’s stomach. Lindsay wretched and gasped; Taylor put her hands up and began beating the helpless woman like she was a boxer’s heavy bag. Again and again she slammed her leather clad fists into her; her stomach, kidney punches to the small of her back and hooks to the ribs, slapping her big fake tits but carefully avoiding her still beautiful, tear stained face. Again tiring, Taylor undid the cuffs and Lindsay collapsed to the floor. She stared down at her with contempt for a minute. The day before she had been an arrogant, spoiled, Hollywood brat. Now she lay curled up at her feet crying piteously, her beautiful body covered with bruises, welts, and ugly bloody red stripes. Taylor yanked her to her feet by her hair and shoved her towards the unusually shaped table. “Get on it. Face down,” Swift commanded. Never a slow learner, Lindsay immediately obeyed. Taylor tightly and brutally fastened the table’s straps on Lindsay’s wrists and ankles leaving her in even more pain. She then walked to the wall display of torture instruments and after making a show of examining them removed a large, black leather paddle covered with studs and having a short wooden handle. She walked behind Lindsay where she couldn’t see her; Lindsay opened her mouth to beg for mercy but screamed as Taylor brought the paddle down. With a savagery that even surprised even her, Taylor whipped the helpless young woman, beating her ass to a pulp. Lindsay had stopped screaming or making any sound for several minutes before Taylor noticed. She stopped and dropped the paddle and walked around and lifted Lindsay’s head by her hair. She stared into Lohan’s glazed unfocused eyes and realized that although she was still technically conscious, she was too far out of it to feel anything. Disappointed, she dropped her head and undid the straps. She left the room and returned a few minutes later with two dog bowls; one with dog food in it, the other with water. Lindsay was still hanging from the rack so she left them on the floor. Having plenty else to do, she left the room and locked it behind her. When she returned that evening, both bowls were empty and Lindsay was cowering in a corner. Whimpering, she pleaded, “Please don’t hurt me anymore; I’ll do anything you want. Please, no more.” Taylor smiled reassuringly. “Don’t sweat it. I’m not going to hurt you. Now crawl over here on your hands and knees.” Weakly smiling, Lindsay complied and at Taylor’s command got up on her knees and in terror stared up at her captor. “Don’t worry, I said I’m not going to hurt you anymore and I’m not. NOW DIE BITCH!” she screamed, and with lightening speed grabbed her throat and began to squeeze. In terror, Lindsay tried to pull away, she tried to pull Taylor’s hands off, her eyes begged for mercy but there would be none coming. After a while, her hands fell away, her head slumped forward, her body relaxed and her bladder let slip a long stream of piss. Taylor let her fall to the floor. She nudged her body with her boot. She noticed how Lindsay’s eyes were still bulging in terror and her tongue was hanging out of her mouth in a manner Taylor thought vaguely reptilian. Startled, Taylor realized she had no idea what to do with the body. Part Three: Satan Nude and alone, Taylor Swift knelt inside the large pentagram and chanted the spell she had been taught. The cave was in complete darkness except what feeble light the five black candles, each set at a point of the pentagram gave off. She felt the cave grow warmer. A long red crack appeared in the very air before her, a blast of incredible heat hit her and she began to hear what sounded like distant screams. The crack opened and the nightmare vision of the most horrifying sight she or any human had ever seen stepped out of it. He or was it more appropriate? Towering; easily eight feet tall, a horned goat’s head with evil, inhuman, unblinking, eyes, a monstrously muscled, re- skinned human man’s torso, heavily furred goat-like legs with cloven hoofs for feet. But it was the obscenity between his legs that filled her with a fear that even her twisted madness and devotion to the darkness couldn’t protect her from. A foot and half in length, over half as much in girth, greasy, red, with a pyramid shaped head the size of a soft ball, snakelike it obscenely turned and seemed to look around the cave before it seemed to turn and look at her. His lips did not move but; “Who summons Satan?” boomingly filled her ears. In unfamiliar Latin she replied, “I, Taylor Swift summoned you my lord.” “What do you seek from Satan?” The voice again filled her ears. “I seek to give you a son,” she replied. “Then prepare yourself,” the voice commanded. Unhesitatingly, Taylor picked up the silver dagger and rammed into in her abdomen. In agony she leaned back spread-eagle so that her arms and legs were lined up with the upper points of the pentagram the black candles just out of reach and the bottom point between. She sobbed in pain as she felt her life slip away and then there was darkness. *** She awoke screaming in pain. The whole world was filled with fire and the screams of the damned. She felt herself hanging in mid-air as the fires burned but didn’t consume her. She looked down between hers legs and saw him standing there. He slammed his cock into her tearing her open. His cock was like a like a sharpened iron stake. Eternally he raped her, now his cunt. For what would have been thousands of years on Earth, his obscenely raped her. And when he came, he filled her with a fire that burned through her. When she awoke, she was back in the cave. Sweat-soaked, steam arose from her body though she shivered from the cold. She looked around and saw the pentagram, blood- stained dagger, and saw from the still burning candles that only a few minutes, if that had passed. She ran her hands over her body finding no mark from either the dagger or the Fires. She wondered if all had been a dream. But she ran her hand over her abdomen and jerked her hand away at what she felt. She smiled at feeling the twisted life growing inside her and knew it was all real. THE END? ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Celebrity Parody Archive