by Van ©2012
Chapter 1

Night—early morning, actually—a luxury suite in a five-star Manhattan hotel—dark and warm.  The thick, light-proof drapes were drawn, shutting out the lights of the city.  The thermostat was set high, 80°F.  A half-dozen flickering candles burned.  The gas fireplace was contributing both heat and light.

Natalie Rhodes was on her back on the large, ultra-comfortable bed, sprawled on its rumpled mass of burgundy silk sheets.  She was completely naked.

Naked Heat, the second of the movies starring Natalie as novelist Richard Castle's heroine, NYPD Detective Nikki Heat, was in post-production and the actress was on hiatus.  She was already under contract for the third Nikki Heat movie, Heat Rises, but the screenwriters were still working on the script.  The studio hadn't even sent her a draft.  She was scheduled to begin the media tour for Naked Heat in a few weeks, and hard copies of interview and tentative talk show schedules were scattered on the suite's desk, as well as courtesy copies of publicity photos.  All had been couriered over by the studio's publicity department.   But right now, Natalie's time was her own.

Good thing, too, 'cause... she'd been kidnapped!

Not that she minded, of course.  Her Mistress (Kidnapper) loved her and delighted in giving her pleasure—unimaginable pleasure.  Natalie's current situation was a good example.

Natalie's hands were balled into fists and tightly (but comfortably) mummified by neat, overlapping layers of silver-gray duct tape.  Wide, well-padded nylon cuffs encircled her wrists and ankles.  Her arms and legs were flung wide and nylon straps bound her to the bed in a stringent spread-eagle—not stringent enough to prevent her from wiggling and squirming her naked body against the soft, smooth, high thread count sheets, but stringent, nonetheless.  A wadded silk scarf was stuffed in her mouth and held there by a narrowly folded silk scarf cinched tight enough to make her cheeks bulge.

One final detail:  Natalie's Mistress (Kidnapper) was between her legs and using her lips, tongue, and fingers to do wonderful things to her pussy.

It was the latest in a looong series of similar activities spaced over the last several days, perhaps as much as a week.  Natalie wasn't quite sure how much time had passed.  Her memory was... fuzzy.  She did remember a knock on the door and the attractive face of a woman smiling back at her through the peephole.  She'd opened the door... and immediately became aware of a wonderful fragrance.  Earthy and complex, with floral highlights... whatever perfume the woman was wearing, Natalie simply had to purchase a bottle... or a case.

Natalie had felt a moment of confusion and her head had begun to spin.  The woman smiled, and whoever she was, she had a beautiful smile.  Natalie's head cleared and the terror—meaning the fun—had begun.
  
Sex—bondage—sex—gourmet room service—sex—more bondage—more sex—etc.

Natalie was always tied up and helpless, and usually gagged, except when she was eating, drinking, or pleasuring her Mistress—her beautiful, intoxicating Mistress—and she was always gagged when Mistress was pleasuring her.  The gag was "the cork that keeps the bubbles in the champagne," Mistress had explained. 

And whenever housekeeping came to clean the room, Natalie was bound, gagged, and locked inside a trunk (with strategically placed and well-camouflaged breathing holes).  She'd sit, frozen in her bonds, and listen to the sound of the vacuum cleaner and the rustle and snap of the sheets being changed.  She didn't moan through her gag, of course, 'cause Mistress had asked her not to make any noise.  Then, the maid or maids would leave, Mistress would open the trunk, and they'd begin again.  Sex—bondage—sex—etc.

And sometimes Mistress would go away for an hour or two... or three.  That meant more time in the trunk—naked, bound, and gagged, in the close, warm dark—waiting.  But then, Mistress would return!

Natalie had never been happier—meaning more frightened—meaning happier.

Mistress was so kind, her ropes and the leather, nylon, and rubber things she pulled from her suitcase so tight and wonderful, and her lips so soft and warm, and her tongue so wet and looong and supremely talented...  And Mistress' eyes seemed to change color, depending on the light.  Sometimes they were pale blue, like pressure-tempered sea-ice, sometimes they were impossibly green, and sometimes violet.  And the scent of that perfume, her perfume—it was like a divine drug—and Natalie knew about drugs.  She had the time in rehab to prove it.

And then it happened, yet again.  Natalie was engulfed by a massive multiple orgasm.

Her struggling, straining body drenched in sweat, her screams of ecstasy muffled by her gag, she came—and it was good.  With Mistress, it was always good, the best sex of Natalie's life.

Finally, panting and exhausted, Natalie lay in her bonds, hardly reacting as Mistress untied and removed her gag.

"Natalie, darling," Mistress purred.  "I'd like you to do me a favor."

"Yes," Natalie gasped, her bosom heaving.  "Yes, Mistress.  Anything, Mistress."  Natalie's nostrils flared.  God, she smells so good!  "Anything."

"My precious little thespian," Mistress purred, then delicately kissed Natalie's flushed, glistening labia.  "We'll take a shower, order breakfast—"  She kissed Natalie's pussy, again, and the captive quivered with delight.  "And then—kiss—we're going to take a walk—kiss—and then—kiss—I want you to make a call for me.  I want you to call a friend.  Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes, Mistress," Natalie sighed.  "Anything you want, Mistress.  Anything."

Kate Beckett broke the connection and tossed the iPhone on her desk.  She picked up her mug and took a sip of coffee, then sighed.  "Like I really need this," she muttered under her breath, then went looking for Captain Gates.  She found her in the hallway, returning to her office from one of the 12th Precinct's other floors.

"Captain, got a minute?" Kate asked.

"Walk with me," Gates answered.

"I just got a call from Natalie Rhodes.  She's the actress who—"

"Who plays Nikki Heat," Gates interrupted.  "I know.  What does she want?  Wait!"  Gates stopped and favored her subordinate with one of her patented no nonsense scowls.  "She doesn't want to follow you on the job like she did before, does she?  'Cause I will not have another civilian interfering with this squad's work.  Mr. Castle is quite enough."

Kate smiled.  "No sir, she doesn't want to visit."

Gates resumed walking and Kate followed.  "So, what does she want?"

"She wants to take me to lunch and talk about the next Heat movie," Kate answered, "the one they haven't even started yet, not the one in theaters this summer.  Character development.  I told her I was busy, but she insisted."

Gates smiled.  "And since we actually aren't busy, for once..."

Kate smiled back.  "I said I'd call her back if I can't make it."

"Take a personal day," Gates said, "enjoy lunch, and stretch it out into dinner if you can, at one of those places you or I could never get into or afford... except as guests of Richard Castle."

Kate felt a slight blush warm her cheeks.  "If you insist," she muttered, sipping her coffee.

"And speaking of Mr. Castle," Gates purred, "how is his book tour going?"

"Last time we talked, he'll be back in New York the 24th of next month."

Gates chuckled.  "Another five weeks of peace."  She paused at her office door.  "Go.  I don't want to see you 'til tomorrow.  Enjoy lunch and dinner.  Order lobster."

"Yes, sir," Kate smiled, and headed for her desk.

Kate stopped at her apartment to change jackets, donning the Armani bolero Castle had given her last Christmas—the one she didn't dare wear to work.  She also changed shoes, swapping her workaday boots for her best pair.  Both had four-inch heels.  She might as well look her best.  Her Glock 19 remained holstered on her belt, under the jacket, as did her cuffs and her badge and ID case.

She took a cab to the restaurant, a place called "Underwood's."  She dropped Natalie's name and the hostess, a very cute blonde about Kate's age, led her through the main dining room.

"Ms. Rhodes' apologies," the hostess said, "but she called to say she'll be a few minutes late."  She opened a door.  "This is one of our private rooms."  It was a cozy, well-appointed space with a table for two.  "A waitress will be in soon to take your drink order."

"Wonderful," Kate muttered as the door closed.  The room was warm... too warm.  She unzipped and peeled off her jacket, then hung it on the back of her chair.  She turned at the sound of the door opening and found a woman—an attractive woman—entering the room.  She was expensively dressed, and clearly was not a waitress.

"Detective Kate Beckett?" the woman inquired.

"Uh, yes."  Kate blinked in confusion.  Her head was swimming and it was suddenly like a furnace in the confined space—and she noticed a strange, musky fragrance.  "I... I'm Detective Beckett."  Whoever this woman was, she was wearing an overpoweringly pungent perfume, and it was—wonderful.

"Natalie asked me to meet you," the woman explained.  "I'm afraid she won't be able to join us."

"Y-you work for Natalie?" Kate asked.  The woman wasn't just attractive, she was beautiful, with long, auburn hair—and her eyes were an incredible shade of blue—and her smile...

"We work together," the woman said.

"And she can't make it?"  Kate knew she should be irritated that Natalie was blowing her off, but the woman's smile was so friendly and she was obviously a really nice person.

"I'm afraid not," the woman nodded.  "She's tied up at the moment, but there's no reason we can't enjoy a nice lunch.  My name is Rupandra."  She extended her right hand.

Kate took the woman's—Rupandra's hand, and squeezed.  What a beautiful name, she thought.  Hindu?  And her hand is so strong, and soft, and...

"You may kiss my hand if you wish," Rupandra purred, her blue eyes flashing and her gorgeous lips curled in a gorgeous smile.

In a daze, Kate did just that, kissing the smooth, warm back of Rupandra's hand.

"Lick my palm," Rupandra suggested, turning her hand in Kate's suddenly trembling fingers.

A shiver rippled down her spine and through her crotch as Kate's tongue slid across Rupandra's palm.  A soft moan escaped her lips.  She couldn't help herself.  The complex, salty taste of Rupandra's skin was the perfect compliment to her musky perfume.

"And now, kiss my lips, Kate," Rupandra ordered.

Their lips met and tongues entwined.  The shiver returned, and for a second Kate was afraid she was going to cum in her pants.  What's happening? she wondered.  What's happening to me?

"Sit back down," Rupandra ordered, then sat, herself, in the other chair.  "Would you show me your pistol, Kate?"

Still in a daze, Kate blinked.  "W-why?"

"It will make me happy," Rupandra explained.  "You want to make me happy, don't you, Kate?"

"I..."  Kate pulled her Glock from its holster.  It was like she was watching someone else do it, like she had no control of her own actions... and didn't care.

"Remove the clip."

Kate did so, then worked the slide to clear the round in the chamber, and handed the weapon, 9mm round, and full clip to Rupandra.

"Your spare clip?"

Kate pulled the clip from her pocket and handed it over, as well.

"And your backup piece?"

Kate reached down and pulled the compact Glock 26 from the holster strapped to her right ankle.  Without being told, she removed its clip, cleared it, and handed everything to Rupandra.

The smiling, auburn-haired beauty dropped both weapons and all three clips into her handbag.  "Your badge and handcuffs, please."

Kate handed over her badge/ID case and handcuffs, as ordered.

Rupandra dropped the case in her purse, then turned the cuffs in her hands.  "We'll play with these, later.  Won't that be fun?"

Kate frowned.  "I..."

"It will make me happy."  Her smile broadened.  "Won't it be fun, Kate?"

"Yes," Kate nodded.

"You may call me Mistress," Rupandra said as she dropped Kate's cuffs into her bag.  "However, when others are present, do not call me Mistress.  In fact, don't refer to me by name, at all.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."  Kate was still confused, but only a little.  Mistress would clear things up when the time was right.  Kate was sure of it.

"Now," Rupandra purred, "while we wait for the waitress to take our drink order, why don't you play with yourself under the table?  Stroke your pussy, but be discrete.  Don't reach under your pants and make sure the table cloth covers your lap.  And don't cum until I give you permission to cum.  Will you do that for me, Kate?"

"Yes, Mistress," Kate whispered, and began sliding the fingers of both hands across her crotch.

"It feels good, doesn't it, Kate?" Rupandra inquired.

"Yes, Mistress," Kate answered.

"You are very beautiful, Kate," Rupandra said.  "You are a strong, beautiful warrior, and it makes me very proud that you want to be my slave.  And it makes you very happy to be my slave, doesn't it, Kate?"

"Oh, very happy, Mistress," Kate sighed, then shuddered as her fingers continued to glide across her crotch.

"Now, now, Kate," Rupandra cautioned, "be a good slave and follow Mistress' orders.  Take your time."

"Yes, Mistress," Kate whispered, and slowed the pace of her sliding hands.

Two hours later

---

Rupandra and Kate left the restaurant and joined the early afternoon pedestrian crowd.  Side by side, they walked a total of ten blocks.  Finally, after a couple of turns, they arrived at a posh neighborhood of multistory townhouses, many with pocket front gardens framed by wrought iron fences.

"And here we are," Rupandra said, indicating a townhouse.

"Natalie is here?" Kate asked.

"Just as I told you," Rupandra promised.  She opened the gate and mounted the steps to the front door.  Kate followed, closing the gate behind them.  Rupandra unlocked and opened the front door, and motioned for Kate to enter.

Kate found herself in an entryway vestibule, the sort of double-door heat-lock found in many New York buildings.  A realtor's "FOR SALE" sign was leaning against the left wall, and above it was the keypad of a residential security system.  A red LED was flashing and a small screen read "FRONT DOOR."

Rupandra closed the front door behind them, then entered a number in the keypad.  The LED stopped flashing and the message changed to "SYSTEM ARMED."  At the same time, the outer door locked and the inner door unlocked with authoritative clicks.  The auburn-haired beauty opened the inner door.  "Come inside, Kate."

Kate did so, finding a series of large, furnished rooms off a central hallway.  About half the furniture was covered with dust cloths, and every window she could see had the blinds down and drapes drawn.  "Just moving in?" Kate asked.

"A temporary refuge," Rupandra explained.  "I decided my last accommodations were too... public.  Follow me, slave."

"Yes, Mistress," Kate sighed.  My god, she is sooooo beautiful.

They made their way to a room in the back of the house, off the kitchen.  There were several built-in cabinets and a small table.  Kate surmised it was a pantry.

"Strip," Rupandra ordered, "neatly fold your clothing, and place everything on the table."

Kate started peeling off her Armani jacket, then paused.  "S-something's not right," she muttered under her breath.

Rupandra smiled, took Kate's head in her hands, and kissed her lips.  They embraced, and the kiss continued—and it was very mutual.

"Silly slave," Rupandra purred, then licked the side of Kate's neck.  "You know nothing's wrong.  You know you want to please your Mistress, don't you?"

"Oh, yes," Kate sighed.  That perfume... it's wonderful!  A delicate shudder shook her frame as Rupandra playfully nibbled her earlobe.

With a final kiss, this time delicately planted on Kate's forehead, Rupandra took a step back.  "Well?"

"Y-yes, Mistress."  Kate removed her jacket, then her boots and socks.  Next, she unzipped her jeans and peeled them off, then pulled her knit sweater-top over her head.  A voice was screaming, somewhere far, far away.  No, the voice was in Kate's head, and it was her voice.  But it was babbling nonsense.  What are you doing?  Stripping for a stranger?  Nonsense.  There was no stranger present, only Mistress.

Rupandra leered at Kate's bra and panty-clad body.  "Neatly folded, slave," she chuckled.

"Sorry, Mistress," Kate answered, then stooped, picked up her boots, and carefully arranged them on the table, side by side.  She then retrieved her socks, jeans, top, and jacket.  The socks went into the boots, and the rest of her clothes were folded and placed on top.

"Continue," Rupandra ordered, "then, put your hands on top of your head and don't move."

"Yes, Mistress."  Kate removed her bra and peeled off her panties.  They were a matching Hanes set, nearly new, in heather-charcoal.  She folded them and placed them atop her jacket, then placed her hands on her head.

"Feet apart," Rupandra ordered, and Kate complied, shuffling her bare feet until they were separated about eighteen inches.  "There's a good slave," Rupandra purred.  She extended an index finger and lightly traced the small, circular scar between Kate's breasts.  "This is where you were shot by the sniper," she noted.

"Yes, Mistress."  Another shudder shook Kate's nude body as Rupandra leaned close and slowly, deliberately licked the scar, dragging her tongue across the puckered blemish.  She continued licking, and Kate noticed a tingling sensation.

"I read all about it," Rupandra said between licks.  "Terrible."  Lick.  "What kind of inhuman monster would want to kill such a beautiful creature?"  Her fingers were tracing Kate's other scars.  "And these are from your surgery."

"Yes, Mistress—Ahhh!"  Kate closed her eyes and gasped.  The tingle of the entry wound scar had become a deep burn.  And now, Rupandra's tongue was tracing her surgical scars, and they were also beginning to burn.

"Don't move, slave," Rupandra ordered.

"It hurts, Mistress," Kate hissed through clenched teeth.

"Hush."  Rupandra picked up Kate's folded panties and stuffed them into the naked detective's mouth.  "That will keep you quiet."  She reached into her handbag and pulled out Kate's handcuffs, then stepped behind her, pulled her hands behind her back, and locked her wrists in the cuffs.  Click-click-click-click-click.  "Mistress does her best to make it easy for her slave to be obedient," she purred, then resumed licking the scars.

Kate bit down on the wadded cloth and shivered.  Her scars continued to burn and itch.

After several seconds, Rupandra stopped licking and smiled.  "That's enough for now, slave."  Her hands gently stroked the linear scars, then, her index finger caressed the round entry scar, again.  "It doesn't hurt at all when I lick your scars," she whispered, leaning close to kiss the scar, then each of Kate's erect nipples.  "In fact, it feels good, doesn't it, slave?"

Kate nodded.  "Mrrrf!"  It does feel good, she realized.  It burns, but it's a good burn.  Mistress is right.  Mistress is always right.

"You have a magnificent body, Kate," Rupandra purred, "lithe, with long, firm muscles and very feminine curves."  She cupped Kate's breasts and gently squeezed.  "Rather small beasts, but with a pleasing shape that compliments your athleticism."  Her right hand slid between Kate's legs and caressed her pussy.  "A neatly trimmed bush and soft, flushed petals."  Her hand slowly slid back and forth.

Kate closed her eyes and moaned through her wadded panties, again.  "M'mmmfh."

"Quiet, slave," Rupandra whispered, then withdrew her hand.  "Let's go upstairs."  An arm around Kate's waist and continuing to lightly caress her crotch, Rupandra led her slave from the pantry.

Kate's head was swimming and her legs weak as her Mistress led her up the stairs to the second floor.  The cuffs were tight on her wrists and the panties in her mouth cloying, but Rupandra's hand was doing wonderful things between her legs.

Rupandra opened a door and led Kate into a darkened bedroom.

"Mrrrfh!"

Kate frowned.  She had been moaning softly through her panties, but this particular gagged noise had come from someone else.  A light winked on and Kate's eyes popped wide in surprise.

A naked woman was spreadeagled on the bed—and she was Natalie Rhodes!

Natalie's hands were mummified in duct tape and her wrists and ankles wrapped in at least a dozen tight bands of rope each and tied to the four bedposts.  Something had been stuffed in her mouth and more duct tape was keeping it there, wrapped completely around her head and under her long, tousled brown hair.  A couple of pillows had been placed under her butt, elevating her hips.  Her wide, blue eyes stared back at Kate and Rupandra and she continued mewling through her gag.

"N'mmpfh!"

"She's also beautiful," Rupandra said, smiling at Natalie's furiously struggling form, "but hers is a different beauty from yours, my precious Kate."  She led Kate to the side of the bed and they both gazed down at Natalie.  "Just look at those magnificent breasts, made famous in her early slasher-movies, and especially after the famous nude fight scene in Heat Wave."

Kate blinked in uncertainty.  Natalie wasn't happy.  She didn't look happy, anyway.  How can she not be happy?  Mistress loves her like she loves me.  She must know that.

Rupandra noticed Kate's expression.  She embraced her from the side and kissed her lips.  "She's playing at being a damsel in distress, Kate.  Natalie is playing.  It's a game."

Kate's nostrils flared as she drank in her Mistress' perfume.  That explains it, she decided.  Natalie's playing a game.  Another thrill shivered through her crotch and her erect nipples ached as if they'd been pinched.

Rupandra plucked the panties from Kate's mouth.  "Do you know how to make love to a woman, Kate?" she purred.  "Do you know how to use your tongue to give a woman pleasure?"

Kaye shivered and tugged on her wrists, her wrists bound by her own cuffs.  "I... I think so, Mistress."

"Natalie is only pretending she's unhappy," Rupandra whispered in Kate's ear.  "She wants you to lick her pussy.  It will make all of us happy.  I'll help you, Kate.  I'll teach you."  She pointed at the pussy in question.  "Climb onto the bed and use your tongue, Kate.  Do it for your Mistress."

"I... I'll try," Kate whispered,  She knelt on the end of the bed, flopped onto her stomach, and inched her way towards Natalie's splayed crotch.  She noted that Natalie's bush was quite dark.  Her natural hair color must be brown, Kate surmised, confirming press rumors she'd read that the blond hair of the actress' early film roles was a dye job.  Like Kate and the fictional Nikki Heat, Natalie Rhodes was a brunette.  Kate reached her goal and gave Natalie's labia a tentative lick.

"Nrrrrrf!"  Natalie tugged on her bonds and tried to close her legs.

"Good slave," Rupandra chuckled, then sat on the bed and placed her hand on Kate's butt.  "That's right, Kate.  Keep it up."  She reached between Kate's legs and began stroking her labia.  "Do with your tongue what I do with my fingers.  Give her pleasure, Kate.  Give Natalie pleasure."

Natalie squirmed and mewled through her gag as Kate continued licking her pussy and Kate shivered as Rupandra stroked her pussy.

"Later, I'll lick you, Kate," Rupandra purred.  "We'll let Natalie rest and you and I will play."

Kate extended her tongue and tickled Natalie's clitoris, even as Rupandra tickled her clitoris.

"Nice and slow, slave," Rupandra whispered.  "Nice and slow."