Captured Series Bundle

by Christina Hale

  The Captured Series

  By

  Christina Hale

  The Captured Series

  Copyright 2015 by Christina Hale

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All characters in this work of fiction are over the age of eighteen.

  Cover design by Christina Hale

  Book design and production by Christina Hale

  Cover image credited to firelizard5 at flickr. Image used was modified and built upon and is used under a commercial creative commons license.

  http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

  This is the complete four book bundle of the Captured series. Hope you enjoy!

  Captured

  Book One

  The night was dark, and moonless, and I lay there in my simple bed, tossing and turning. Unable to sleep, I rise and pace before the window, looking out into the blackness. Around me, the whole village was sleeping, and I wondered, what of Klasys, my betrothed? Surely he was as nervous as I… we were to be bonded tomorrow, after all. I didn’t know him well, of course, but that was how my village worked; when two people came of age, they were more often than not slated to live together and create a family. He was a handsome young man, dark skin and eyes. He tended to the animals, rather than farm or fish. It was a good job. I was happy about the next day, despite my nerves. Smiling softly, I turned back to my bed, and that was when I heard it: large, heavy hooves, traversing the ground with a surprising amount of stealth. Horses? But no... they sounded too many.

  My heart began to beat faster, and I turned slowly to face the window once more. They were not horses. They were the half-man, half-horse creatures my people called centaurs. The legends behind these creatures were bone-chilling. “Mama! Papa!” I cried out, bolting from my room and rushing into my parents’ bedroom. “Centaurs, wake up!”

  It felt like an age before they rose up, bleary-eyed and confused. “Worry not, Nephele,” my father said, while my mother gave me a comforting look. They didn’t seem to hear the centaurs racing closer. “You’re nervous about your bonding tomorrow… go back to sleep.” He continued with a yawn, lying back down. My mother got up and began taking me back to my room.

  “Mama, no – please! Look outside!” I demanded, hysterical, as we entered my room. My mother smiled, as if to calm me, but my horrified look made her look back, and she gave a shriek as she saw them all, perhaps twenty or so.

  “Husband!” she shrieked to my father, “It’s the truth!” And with that, there came a crashing from the other room, and my father rushed in carrying a sword. Women were not allowed to handle weaponry, and so we’d never been trained. We were left empty-handed as my father rushed outside and began to yell for the men of the village.

  “Nephele, do not leave the house!” My mother urged me, looking frantic. She cupped my face in her soft hands, then embraced my tightly. I felt her shaking, and my fear grew even more.

  “Mama…” I whimpered quietly into her hair, feeling my body begin to tremble. “Are they coming for me?” She didn’t respond verbally, but her sudden sobbing gave me my answer. I was the only young woman in the village. From outside, we could hear battle cries and shouting. The twanging of bows, the clashing of swords, spears and improvised weapons… Our village consisted of about twenty adult men and twenty-three women. Most were older, like my mother. I was the youngest woman.

  Though our men outnumbered the beasts outside, they were weaker, and most had been sleeping moments prior to the attack. I wasn’t sure how long the fighting lasted… but when all grew quiet, we heard a commanding voice say, “Bring to us your women… or you will all be slaughtered.” Next to me, my mother let out another shriek and clung to me as my father returned, bloodied and limping heavily, but not horribly injured.

  “I will not let them take you, Nephele,” my father promised as he took my hand and led me out. I was shocked into speechlessness, and fear gripped me tightly. Outside, most, if not all of the women were grouped into a huddle, and my mother and I joined them. They all tried to hide me in the middle, but I saw the eyes of the centaurs on me.

  Once all of us were gathered together, and our men forced backwards, the largest centaur turned to another and inquired, “So Vralius… tell us what you seek.” The centaur named Vralius stepped forward, and I could see that he was almost as large as the first centaur. He looked among our faces and replied in a deep voice, “I seek a woman with hair the color of the sun, and skin as pale as the moon…” I cringed visibly, my tear-streaked face twitching a little as many of the women around me retreated. Pale skin was common in women, but some of us, myself excluded, worked outdoors. There weren’t enough men to do all of the work. As for blond hair… it was a rare trait. Only a handful of our group had blond hair.

  The centaur, Vralius, overlooked the few of us that remained, and as his eyes settled on me, he continued in a softer voice, “I seek a woman with eyes the color of the sky –” Two more women retreated, leaving three of us. “– who has never lain with a man.” I looked to the woman on my left… I didn’t know her name, and though she was older than I, she claimed to be pure. The last woman left us, and I held my breath, secretly wishing I would be spared.

  Vralius approached us, and he turned to the woman next to me, looking down at her like he was examining her, rather like how a butcher examines his next meal. She gave a whimper as his large hand reached down for her face, but a scuffling from behind us made the centaur look up. Too afraid to turn around, I heard a man declare, “She isn’t pure! We have lain together in secret for the last three seasons!”

  Shocked gasps could be heard from our village; it was taboo that an unmarried woman lay with a man. What made it even worse was that there was nothing stopping them from marrying. Even so, with her secret out, the woman beside me gave a strangled cry of shame as she was tugged from the centaurs’ grasp. Some muttering followed, and I heard my parents sob, as the centaur turned to me.

  “Come willingly, and your village will be left in peace.” He told me quietly, motioning for one of his companions. Still unable to speak, I just swallowed and nodded, feeling tears well up in my eyes. Behind me, the whole village gave gasps and cries of horror.

  “Nephele, no!” It was Klasys’ voice, and there were many grunts as I heard him race forward. “Please, we are to be married tomorrow!” He begged to Vralius, placing himself in front of me. The centaurs all moved forward, but Vralius held out an arm to stop them. He leaned forward and told my betrothed, “She is mine now.” And then, Klasys was forced away, while I was lifted easily from the ground by two of the centaurs and whisked away quickly, much too fast for anyone to give chase.

  Minutes passed in silence as flat land gave way to thick forest, and as my shock and fear subsided, I felt more courageous. Suddenly, I struggled; I kicked one of my feet and hit one of my captors in the chest. He grunted, but they held me tighter, and as I continued to thrash, they called out, “Gisor! Vralius! What should we do?” The largest centaur, Gisor, apparently, gave a dismissive wave and said, “That’s up to Vralius. He is her master now, after all.” I glared at the centaurs holding me, struggled more, and then Vralius shook his head. He gave some sort of nonverbal command to one of the centaurs holding me, and then… there was nothing.

  I came to, disoriented and unable to see anything, or move. So, I simply thought, about how I never really believed the old stories, the ones where the half-man, half-horse creatures would raid simple villages like my own, looking for young women… To take them i
n the dead of night, never to be seen again. No, everyone always wrote those stories off as pure rumors, or tales to scare girls into obedience. Had I given it any thought, perhaps I wouldn’t be where I was. Not that I really knew… A cloth of some sort covered my eyes, blinding me, while more cloth gagged me, and my hands and feet were bound with a plant-like material. I could hear quiet voices, deep ones; a chuckle here, an approving sort of grunt over there, and the smell was something like my family’s barn. Suddenly, there was movement – hooves, it sounded like, and then I was hoisted to my feet while my bindings, blindfold, and gag were removed. My hands and feet were the first to be freed, and I stumbled a little, right into a pair of powerful legs.

  I saw them, the centaurs, and then recalled my capture. The centaurs, my own father treating me like some sort of animal, trading me for peace… I choked back a sob and looked up into the face of the centaur whose legs I’d hit moments earlier. Vralius. He chuckled softly and then lifted me up onto my feet.

  “I’m sorry I had Cazis knock you unconscious. Do you recall what happened?” The way he talked, it seemed… sincere. But I didn’t trust him. I scowled at him, but I was too weak to do much more. “I recall everything,” I replied harshly, turning away. There were other centaurs around me, and I noticed Gisor, Cazis, the other centaur who’d been holding me, and Vralius himself. They leered, looking at me hungrily… but at least they didn’t touch me. Vralius, meanwhile, grasped my shoulder in his large hand and turned me back around.

  “Then you’ll realize now that you’ll not be returning home,” he told me coolly, gripping my shoulder tightly. I swallowed in fear, anger, and sorrow, and asked tearfully, “Why have you taken me?” He didn’t answer right away, but instead studied my face and body. He toyed with my clothing, which was a homemade wool dress.

  Finally, he replied, “Because I’m in need of a slave.” His words were short and blunt, and I squeaked as he tugged on my arm, pulling me away from the group of centaurs. “Follow me. I would prefer to keep you unbound.” Of course, I knew I had no choice. I could never outrun these creatures, and I feared violence. I followed him shakily, and it was then I noticed his appearance. The night before had been too dark, but now I could see his skin was tanned, the hair on his face and head was a deep brown. The animal hair on him was also brown, though it had a reddish tint to it. His tail was darker, almost black. I could see his muscles, in his legs and his arms, and I knew if he wanted, he could easily throw me, but I tried to keep calm. He appeared the least violent thus far. Slung across Vralius’ side was a large quiver of arrows, and across his back was a bow. He also carried a sword, much larger than a sword a man could carry.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked quietly, looking straight ahead. It appeared there were more centaurs here than those that had raided my village. Looking back to me, Vralius replied, “To your quarters. Each slave is given her own area.” I cringed a little, wondering just how many other girls there were. Despite this, I continued, “What… what kinds of things do you need a slave for? Is it f-for cooking and those…” I trailed off as Vralius gave me an amused look, though it wasn’t exactly kindly. I thought I knew the answer already, but I hoped otherwise. He’d asked for a woman of purity, after all. Secretly, I was scared. Laughing quietly, Vralius stopped near a wooden shack of sorts and pointed to the door. “Oh no… you see, there are few women among our kind. Your job is quite simple. Your name is Nephele, is it not?” I didn’t reply, for fear had choked me, but the look on my face gave him the answer.

  “Your job, Nephele, is to give your body to me whenever I demand it.” I swallowed, looked to the door he was pointing at, and made my way slowly to it. It was tall enough for him to fit through, and I noticed a large wooden bar across the door. It was a lock, much like the ones my village used on its barns, but at the moment it was raised up, allowing me to open the door, which was fairly heavy. Inside, it was dark, but I could make out a pile of hay, a small wooden table, and a chair. There was one window; it had bars on it, and a wooden cover that blocked out the light. I walked inside on unsteady legs, and he walked in after me. From the table he grabbed a candle, and he lit it with a piece of flint that was also from the table.

  The room now lit, I could see how small it was, and depressingly dark. “Does… does the window open?” I asked, my voice hushed. In reply, he went out and shifted the cover. Dappled sunshine fell into the room, and I felt a tiny bit better. He came back into the room and spoke quietly, “Food will be brought to you twice a day – once in the morning and again in the evening. You are not to speak unless you are spoken to. You may leave this room with my permission only. You are not required to service anyone else but me. When I enter this room, you are to undress unless I say otherwise.” Vralius moved closer to me and lowered his face to mine. “Do you understand?” I nodded once, looking to the side. He touched my cheek, stroked it, really, in a way that I could only describe as comforting.

  “You will not be harmed, so long as you follow these rules, and my demands. If you ever require something, perhaps I can provide it. You may ask me questions as you desire.”

  Hesitantly, I looked up at him, and he nodded once, allowing me to ask, “Can I ask you something even if you don’t speak to me?” Again, he nodded. I was calm, if only slightly, and I asked in a near whisper, “Must I undress now?” I had never been seen naked before, except by my mother, and that was when I was very young. It wasn’t proper for anyone to see your body, except for your husband. I feared being taken more so than I did being seen naked.

  Vralius shook his head slowly, a curious, yet serious expression on his bearded face. He closed the door and locked it using another wooden bar on the inside, much too high for me to reach. I felt my stomach knot up, and he put his arm behind my back, gently pushing me towards his hind end. I knew what a stallions member looked like, because I’d seen Klasys mate one with a mare more than once, but I’d never been near one. I had no idea how big they got, but I could see Vralius’. My proximity made him excited; it grew larger and longer as it inched out of his sheath, and he breathed, “Touch it.”

  I was squeamish. I’d never even seen a normal man before, and by now I was hoping to God it didn’t look like this. Vralius seemed to become frustrated by my hesitation, so he grabbed my hand and curled my fingers around his shaft. I whimpered softly, closing my eyes as he released my hand. He ordered me to stroke it, and I did so with my hand trembling.

  Unable to see it, it made it a little easier. It felt... strange. Not necessarily unpleasant; deep down, I was curious about sex. After all, I’d been meant to be married today. What would Klasys and I have done? I paused unintentionally, and Vralius grabbed my hand again, but instead of forcing me to continue, he pulled me back towards his front. “Why have you stopped?” he demanded of me, sounding a little angry.

  “I… I was just thinking about K-klasys. I was supposed to be married to him today.” I responded, tearing up a little. Groaning, Vralius wiped my tears away with his free hand and spoke again, this time with less anger. “I know of your kind, Nephele. He would ask the same thing of you. Pretend that I am him.”

  I was pushed back, and this time, I landed on my knees. I took a deep breath, controlling myself, and then looked at Vralius’ member once more. I supposed that… I didn’t know what a man’s member looked like. Maybe it was like that of a stallion? Or, at the very least it had to have been similar. I also supposed that I was lucky to be taken by Vralius and not one of the others. They just seemed rough, whereas Vralius was kinder. Perhaps he did this out of necessity, not out of cruelty. It made it easier. I could pretend that this was Klasys.

  “If you… if you tell me how to do it, I’ll try to do it right.” I told Vralius tentatively. After all, I had no experience. The centaur sighed, but this time it sounded… content. “Stroke it with your fingers, Nephele… it will grow large. Once it does, grasp it and move your hand up and down, gently. If I desire anything else, I will tell you…”

/>   And so, I did as he asked, rather gladly, as it meant I could keep my purity, for now. I was calm now, no longer shaking; my fingers moved over his thick member slowly, and I watched it, curious and… excited, as it grew even thicker, and longer. I imagined doing this to Klasys – I was sure it felt good. Be it as Vralius’ slave, or Klasys’ wife… my job, either way, was to please.

  Once Vralius’ was large, I grasped him and moved my hand up and down his shaft, and was surprised at just how long it was getting. I felt myself become more excited, and I became moist. In the back of my mind, I knew it was wrong… but maybe that was what made it feel good. Vralius shifted slightly, groaning in pleasure; a hoof pawed at the ground, and I looked up to see him toss his head back slightly. I hadn’t noticed it before, but his hair was fairly long, about to his shoulders. He noticed me looking and chuckled lowly, saying huskily, “You’re doing a good job, Nephele… don’t stop.”

  Nodding hurriedly, I blushed deeply and looked back to his shaft. At the tip, a clear fluid was collecting. I rubbed my palm and fingers around his tip, and he thrust forward unexpectedly, giving a gasp of pleasure. His legs trembled and he pawed the ground more, while I moved my wet hand up his shaft again, making his member slick. Both he and his liquid were warm, and his shaft throbbed under my hand. Vralius began to thrust forward more, and he stamped the ground with his front hooves, his sounds of pleasure becoming louder, and more frequent. He didn’t ask anything else of me… part of me wondered if he even could, and so I kept going, my heart beating quickly in my chest as I pleasured him. Part of my brain wondered what it would be like if he pleasured me… but these thoughts were disrupted as Vralius climaxed, shooting white into my hand as it rolled around his tip. “Stop,” he groaned, his sides and chest heaving. I stopped immediately, hardly daring to breathe. Slowly, I removed my hand. I wiped it on the floor furtively. It was thick, and sticky.