I forgot to mention that this is set pre-series. I do not own Castle, and neither does Kate. This is pure fiction. Rape is bad, m'kay?


One might think that being kidnapped and used for sex would be exciting. Maybe not as exciting as being kidnapped by aliens but at least a bit more interesting than the average day-to-day. Fear and adrenaline he can handle, but this, this is pure torture.

Rick Castle is bored.

After he eats, it takes him no time at all to thoroughly explore his prison, and frankly, he isn't impressed. It's bigger than he expected, about fifteen feet by twenty and, not including the facilities, is all one room. There's a tall trash can with a lid that pops up where he discards the Styrofoam but keeps the chopsticks. Office quality carpet, beige, and unfinished wood for walls. The door is positioned on one of the long dimensions near the corner, flanked by a speaker set in the wood on one side and a police-style drawer to pass things through on the other. The dresser, table, and pair of chairs are IKEA knockoffs, not too sturdy but serviceable. There's a plastic light fixture attached to the ceiling. Hell, if it weren't for the handcuffs, the queen-sized cast iron bed frame covered by a rumpled and inanely inoffensive comforter wouldn't look out of place in a country farmhouse.

He tries not to look at the handcuffs.

The bathroom isn't any better. There's a tub with a mint green shower curtain plus the essentials; soap, shampoo, conditioner, etc. plenty of toilet paper, a few towels. Years of living with only women has him trained and the damp one hangs from a bar on the far wall. There's a toothbrush, toothpaste, and an electric razor plugged into an outlet by the sink.

That's about it.

Not exactly Lady Irena's House of Pain.

He spends an hour or two trying to Macgyver a weapon out of either the razor or the chopsticks, or even some combination of both, but the razor won't come apart and there's nothing to sharpen the utensils on anyway so he gives up.

No one knows he's here. Meredith had managed to convince him that she and Alexis needed the entire summer to "bond", and he and Gina had finally called it quits for good about a month ago. He's supposed to be in the Hamptons finishing "Storm's Last Stand". He'd taken a break and gone for a walk on the beach when he'd been taken.

His mind shifts to his captor, this mystery woman. What does he know? Well, for one, she's gone to a lot of trouble to get him here, wherever here is. He doesn't think he's near the beach, the soil-smell isn't salty enough for that, but he doesn't feel the constant urban hum characteristic of the city either. Maybe somewhere upstate then. If he's lucky.

Two, she's a fan. This isn't a random kidnapping. She called him Castle, by name, and the chloroform trick must be some sort of sick joke, it's a mystery writer's cliche of course. She must have drugged him with something else too, chloroform doesn't really work all that well. Maybe some sort of injection? He thinks back, but he doesn't remember.

Three, she's been very careful to keep him from seeing her. That's a good sign. He hopes it means that she's planning on letting him go...eventually.

He paces for a bit, just for the heck of it, but it's not as fulfilling as it should be. Artistic license and all that. He bangs on the door for a while, earning himself a sore throat, but there's no answer so he gives that up too. He's about to dig the Styrofoam out of the garbage and draw silly faces with the chopsticks when the lights go out.

Her voice emerges from the speaker, "Take off your clothes and lie on the bed."

Well, he'll give her points for good grammar.

"What if I don't?" he challenges.

"Then I'll have to punish you," she answers.

"Ooh, punishment. Kinky." And just because he can't leave well enough alone he adds, "my safe word is apples."

He hears the door open and sees a bright flash of light before the stun gun hits him. His muscles seize and his jaw clenches with the electricity. He's in too much pain to resist as she hauls him towards the bed, easily securing him, handcuffs and blindfold both, once again. She stuffs something, a pill maybe, in his mouth and he swallows reflexively. She abandons him there for a while, long enough for whatever it is to get into his system. He's feeling warm, a little giddy even, when she returns. He even grins at her voice.

"Apples, hmm?"

"Yep," he mumbles, as she starts with the hands.

"You won't be needing it," she says.

She's right. He doesn't.


Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I know this is a dirty little story and we're all going to the Special Hell together. I'll bring the pizza. A big thank you and shout out to Purplangel, for asking me if it was ok to fill the same prompt. Go read her story too! And Reviews=love. Just sayn'.