The Green Bush Erotica Collection Volume 23

Centaur’s Wife-1

Centaur’s Wife

by Elliot Silvestri

Chapter One

Proval

and Lianna walked into the centaur camp weary and covered with the dirt

and dust of travel. They had been running for more than two weeks; Lianna had lost

track of how long exactly. At first not one of the centaur’s took notice of one

of their missing members returning. Proval could easily pass as one of the many

in the herd because he was a centaur, tall and strong, his equine hindquarters

a brilliant glossy mahogany brown matching the more human-like hair that fell

from his head. He was bare-chested, as was the custom of his race, except for

the harness that crisscrossed his muscular torso. He only wore the harness to

make it easier for Lianna to ride on his back.

The moment he was recognized, a

shout of celebration when up and several of his comrades embraced him. In all

the commotion Lianna slid from her mate’s back and took a few steps back, away

from the crowd of centaurs. She pressed her back up against one of the canvas

tents that formed the bulk of the camp and stood there nervously, wearing only

the leather collar around her neck, the cuffs around her ankles and wrists, and

the scrap of cloth tied around her hips, hiding her s*x from view. Her prominent

breasts were on display and she was considered a beautiful woman among humans,

but here in the centaur camp and covered in dirt and dust, she was barely

noticed.

Just days before she had been a

slave in Duke Nuekome’s harem, a performer trained to be f****d by one of the

other slaves, Proval the centaur. They were such a great hit doing their sexual

performances in the Duke’s hall that he had them taken on a tour so more could

enjoy the show. Proval and Lianna had taken the opportunity to escape when they

weren’t watched and Proval took them to his home. It had been years since he

had been home. The celebration of his return from slavery showed that.

“And you brought a wife home with

you!” declared one of the biggest centaur’s with shock of black hair. More

cheers went up among the centaurs. Lianna wondered why they didn’t

automatically conclude that she was a slave. Up until she escaped she had been

a slave and, oddly, in her mind she still was a slave but without an owner.

While being owned by Duke Nuekome she had quickly become accustomed to being a

slave. It wasn’t a bad life. She had no freedom, but she had food, something

that had always been in short supply while she was growing up, and a safe place

to sleep, also something rare in her childhood home. Most importantly she had

pleasure. Being f****d on a regular basis by Proval was the best part of being

a slave.

The other centaur’s directed their

eyes to the human in their midst. Lianna suddenly felt uncomfortable being so

closely scrutinized but resisted the temptation to hide her breasts and tug her

loincloth into place, making sure it hide her p***y. These were instincts she

thought she had overcome while serving Nuekome. Apparently among centaur’s the

reflex actions readily returned.

“Yes,” Proval grunted. “She’s

mine.” There was a deep pause in the celebration. “She’s more attractive when

she’s not so filthy from the road.”

“I’d f**k her right here and now,”

a burly chested centaur cried. His declaration was followed by laughter among

the others. “Can I have her?” he asked Proval.

Before Lianna’s lover could answer

the big, dark-haired centaur spoke. “My nephew returns from slavery with but

one possession, a wife, and you want to take that from him.”

“Yes!” the second centaur declared

with a laugh which was joined by most of the crowd.

“You don’t want her now,” Proval’s

uncle said reasonably. “She’s too filthy and tired. We’ll clean her up and hold

a true celebration with her tomorrow!”

Cheers followed that decision and before Lianna could

sort anything else out she found herself being dragged away by one of the

younger centaurs. “Put her in my tent,” the uncle called. “She’ll be safe

enough there for the night.”

Lianna was pulled away by the young

centaur and the last glimpse she caught of Proval was his emptying a wineskin

into his mouth. Some of the red liquid was running down his face and chest.

After a quick trip through the

maze-like layout of the camp’s tents, she was thrust inside one that was

painted with strange designs on the tan cloth. “Wash her and get her ready,”

the centaur grunted and then turned tail and trotted away. Because they were

built for centaurs the tents were huge, taller than any room Lianna had ever

been inside. The light was dim but once her eyes adjusted she saw two figures

approaching her. She expected them to be centaurs, but they were human. They

were women.

“Hello,” she said brightly, trying

to make friends with them. Being captives of the centaur’s couldn’t be any

worse than being a slave of the duke.

The first woman to approach her

lashed out with her hand, slapping Lianna across the face. Lianna gasped, felt

the stinging pain lance across her cheek, and collapsed to her knees.

“Shut up,” the woman spat at her.

“You’re nothing. You’re less than nothing. You’re a slave.”

Lianna looked up at the woman who

hit her. She had long red hair that surrounded her face, half obscuring her

visage making her look all the more fierce. Next to her meekly stood the second

woman who had her brown hair. Both were naked but their bodies were decorated

with tattoos and piercings, both of which made Lianna shudder.

“Shouldn’t we do as Hervar said?”

the brunette asked uneasily.

“She can wash herself,” the redhead

responded.

“She won’t know what to do, Miri.”

That caused Miri to whirl around on

her companion and slap her as well. The brunette’s head snapped to the side,

but she managed to stay on her feet. “Then why don’t you show her, Ruta!” Miri

screamed in her face before stalking back to a corner of the tent and throwing

herself on a woven rug. She picked up a bowl of food and resumed eating,

glaring at the two women she had slapped.

“Don’t mind her,” Ruta said,

helping Lianna to her feet and gently pulling her out of the test. Lianna went

along with the slightly built woman because she didn’t know what else to do.

Outside in the fading sunlight of the late afternoon Lianna saw that what she

had first taken for tattoos was mostly just body paint on Ruta’s skin. “She’s

angry because she’s ugly.” A little smirk pulled at her lips as she drew Lianna

along.

Unlike her, Ruta didn’t have a

collar around her neck and cuffs on her limbs, but the tattoos marked her as

property of a centaur. Lianna had heard of the practice before, and Proval had

told her all about it, but she still couldn’t believe that any human would

allow her body to be marked permanently in such a fashion. It seemed barbaric,

but then again, of course it was. It was done by centaurs who all but owned the

women. Proval told her the human women who lived with the centaurs were called

wives, but they were slaves in all but name.

They eventually came to the small

stream she and Proval had been following through the grasslands for the past

week. It was how they had managed to stay alive and find Proval’s family herd.

The stream ran into a small pool that had been dug out, presumably by the

centaurs, and was used as a makeshift bathing area. Ruta led Lianna into the

pool, grabbing some washing supplies stored on a rock as they went in. It was

obvious to Lianna that Ruta must have spent a good deal of her life unclothed

like her. She wasn’t the least bit ashamed of her naked body. That was a state

Lianna and quickly come to enjoy after she had been sold into slavery by her

poor family.

“Your designs,” Lianna gasped as

the water quickly reached the women’s waists and started washing away the body

paint that decorated Ruta.

The girl just laughed away Lianna’s

concern. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “We do the paint over every morning.”

“Oh,” she said softly as Ruta

pulled Lianna’s loincloth off her and tossed it to the bank. Lianna would have

told her not to bother, she didn’t intend upon wearing it ever again if

possible. “They are very pretty.”

Ruta ducked her head as she started

scrubbing the dirt away from Lianna’s skin. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“They’re done by Miri. It’s her talent. She’s mean and rude, but she’s a

talented artist. That’s was Dorrkar keeps her around.” It felt good to be

washed by another person and Lianna started to think she was back in the duke’s

harem, being tended to by other slaves. She had enjoyed that part of her life.

“You’re filthy,” she commented. “How long have you been travelling?”

“Two weeks.”

“I see. Let’s make sure you’re

extra clean,” she said, passing the cloth between Lianna’s legs, lightly

rubbing her p***y, lingering longer than was strictly necessary, but Lianna

didn’t complain.

“Thank you.”

Ruta nodded her head. “You have no

tattoos or jewelry?” she asked, mildly surprised. Lianna took a second look at

the woman’s body and saw that roughly half her decorations were true tattoos.

The absence of most of the body paint revealed that Ruta also had many pieces

of fine metal piercing her flesh in the centaur tradition.

“No.”

“I would have thought that Proval

would have started your piercing regimen since you are his wife.” Such a thing

had never been decided and Lianna wanted to know how the other woman made such

a conclusion.

“No. We were slaves of Duke

Nuekome. He had no say in this body,” she said indicating herself.

Ruta laughed. “This body,” she

repeated with a smile. “Why don’t you say ‘my body’?”

Lianna opened her mouth to answer

and found the reply difficult. She had so fully immersed herself into the role

of a slave… “I’m a slave. I was a slave. When you’re a slave, your body belongs

to your owner and your owner gets to decide what to do with it,” she said, the

words coming slowly. “The duke wanted my skin pure and by neck collared. I

didn’t have a choice. No slave does. Proval had to wear his harness because he

was a slave.”

That made Ruta laugh again. “No he

wasn’t.”

“Yes,” Lianna said, her brows

furrowing in anger at the silly girl. “Of course he was. He was part of the

duke’s circus, just like I was.”

A toss of Ruta’s head dismissed

Lianna’s insistence. “He might have been pretending to be a slave, but he was

really a spy,” she confided in the woman she was washing. “I know. I overheard

Dorrkar speaking with the other members of the war band. He said once Proval

returned from his spying the centaurs will make war with the humans once

again.”

Lianna didn’t know what to make of

that story. It was possible, certainly, but how could a slave be a spy? Maybe

it was just a story that Dorrkar was telling to save face among his peers. She

certainly didn’t know.

While they were talking Ruta finished

washing Lianna and herself. She sluiced water over the Lianna’s blond hair,

working a comb through the tangled knots until it hung clean and straight down

her back. Lianna returned the favor and the two climbed out of the pool with

clean skin. Right away Lianna saw that the tattoos that remained on Ruta’s skin

had a similar theme all over, a repeated pattern of flowers that made her look

like a walking garden.

“We’ll have to get your collar and

cuffs removed. Centaurs don’t like such things on their wives.”

Lianna let her eyes glide over the

many bits of metal that had been forced into Ruta’s flesh. She had rings

through her n*****s and one nostril; there were multiple studs following the

outer curve of her ear; she didn’t know exactly what, but something dangled

from the woman’s p***y, a little charm hanging between her thighs; a coil of

metal was stuck multiple times through her lower lip, and when Ruta saw that

Lianna was carefully inspecting her body, she stuck out her tongue showing a

thick piece of metal there as well. All of this was in addition to the tattoos

on her body and the body paint which was now gone. “This will all happen to you

as well,” Ruta said, indicating the many piercings she had.