Blah Blah Blah: A Demon King's Autobiography, Chapter 3: In Axara
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I had not, to that point in my life, ever personally seen Axara, the royal city of Hittana. It pales in comparison to the great cities of your world, of course, but to my eyes, those thick concrete walls, the countless draped-over fineries, the royal guards all done up in full armor, the animals and ladies and children scurrying about the streets of this grand garden, this miniature city, were one of the most incredible things I had ever seen. Having studied, to some extent, the estimations of population sizes of your modern universities, I would say that perhaps one hundred thousand people resided within the palace's walls.

Among the Ibaal, we only ever had so many people in one place for great rituals, like the rebirth of Ishtar, and then only in temporary camps. I could only wonder at the matters of logistics - how could so many men be fed? How could so great a city be maintained? It had been here for a long time. I wondered if perhaps the people lived here only seasonally. I knew the Parathix riders settled only temporarily, keeping their fleshraker steeds always in motion so they did not devastate the land, only stopping to harvest the previous season's planting.

Even then, I did not truly think that was the case. I simply saw a world around me that was too great for my previously small one, and considered that perhaps it was a facade put up just for me. But the people who looked out upon us curiously did not have the look of farmers or of hunters, but of craftsmen and bookkeepers. Their warriors appeared closer to the disciplined soldiery of Murcaime than the mercenaries of Daminatex or the landlords of Sirex and Ordex or the clan heads of my own Ibaal. These were men who served a collective, a country, something greater than themselves or their ancestry.

Some might have been struck by such thing with seething disgust. For me, on the contrary, I felt true envy. Hittana was powerful. I was sure that was the impression I was meant to be left with. Perhaps some saw that power and wished to steal it away, to conquer this city.

I wanted, instead, to bring this splendor back to Ibaal. In my heart, I was already wandering the streets of a fresh capital of my people, a grand constructed city, built on the backs of stolen men and stolen ideas, made to enrich Ibaal and myself.

"My love?" Elze asked, noticing my expression, a curious note in her eyes as she looked down at me. "Is something the matter?"

"No - I was just thinking about how truly beautiful this city is," I said, smiling lightly. I met the gaze of one of the men escorting us to the palace proper. "I have never seen a place so splendid in my whole life."

He smiled at that, the casual, simple sort of pride that a man has when his group, his tribe, his kingdom, his heartland, is praised by an outsider. "It's the beating heart of Hittana, founded by our kings three centuries back. It has become so splendid thanks to their wise rule." I suspected that it had been less splendid when it was first founded, but I made no such comment.

I had my hook, the thing that I could leverage to ask for information. Men are rarely as open as when they fawn over their wives or their country - one need only look at the first few paragraphs of this text to see that. And yes, I do think of Mansur's Reqas as my second homeland. Certainly, he treated us well enough to earn that perception. "I would hope to speak to a few of your learned men, while I stay here, that I might carry away one-tenth the knowledge necessary to recreate its splendor. Do you know who I might speak to?"

One of the few things praiseworthy about your people is that, when such questions are asked, your kings and Presidents readily provide all that they can. There are two sides to this particular coin: on the one face, is the fact that countries are less likely to war with countries like themselves. Wars between your democracies are rare, as are wars between your socialist states - and throughout the history of Hell, there are leaders who recognized camaraderie with other oligarchies or clannish societies that made cooperation easier with like than with unlike. On the opposite face of that coin, however, is the fact that what makes great states great is not just their people, but the form of the state itself. A tower is nothing without good bricks, and good bricks are nothing if left strewn about. To allow Ibaal to freely copy what made Hittana great might mean we one day would become a rival to them.

The soldier's superior officer clearly sided with the latter interpretation, as he cleared his throat sharply before the man could get out more than a, "Well, I've never thought about that. I suppose-"

"Perhaps you can ask such questions of the king, Prince Alifex," the officer said, and the soldier ducked his head instantly at the implicit rebuke.

"I shall do that," I agreed easily, smiling at the other man. There was no sense in creating some great fight over the matter. I would learn what I could. A man can hardly be killed for admiring your country and wishing to learn more about it, after all.

For a moment, there, I considered speaking of my other great interest, one far older than the petty wonders of Axara: my wife. Given that Vida was my concubine, however, I decided to leave that subject matter be. I had worked quite hard to impress upon the girl that she would be happy and well taken care of by me, precisely so that she could carry my words on to her grandfather. It would be the height of idiocy to ruin that impression to fawn over my Elze, no matter how incredible she was.

Elze towered over those around us, and the Fang of Asmodai was wrapped in cloth, but its shape was unmistakable even then. I suspect far fewer heads would have turned our way, had she not been there. Without her, we were a small escort and a few dignitaries, of which I am sure the people of Axara were well-acquainted. With her? One of the greatest warriors of Hell walked down their city streets. As wondrous as their city was, it could not hope to compare to my Elze, so I understood the awe they felt, to see her.

The palace itself was enormous once again, large and imposing, meant to wow the visitor. I was less impressed by the palace than the city that was built around it. I understood, instinctively, that this was a different sort of wealth. The city of Axara meant strong hands, diligent work, discipline, cohesion - the roots of true and lasting power. The palace meant mere wealth, and as Daminatex so thoroughly impressed upon my mind, wealth was not power.

To be frank, it even lowered my opinion of the Hittana minutely. When one is powerful, these sorts of ostentatious displays are unnecessary. They are the hallmark of the weak. My Elze does not need to bluster to prove her martial skill - anyone who has ever heard of her knows that she dances with death and always leaves him satisfied. But many young men, fit but foolish, feel the need to prove themselves in bar fights. To my eyes, that was this palace: a child's attempt at a demonstration of power.

I put those thoughts aside quickly with a reminder that it may have been built long ago, or in homage to one of the Lucifenes, or any of a dozen other meanings. We were taken into a waiting hall, a large room with servants, guided to rest on pillows and blankets, to stretch and recline as word of our arrival was passed onto the king and we were told when he would meet us.

I spoke to one of the servants as I waited. I speak the Hittani language, of course. I'm not some pathetic Albinreicher who can barely speak his own language, much less the languages of his neighbors, and considers himself proud of this inadequacy. I asked about how old, exactly, this palace was. As it turned out, it was a century and a half old, built under the current ruler's great grandfather, which set my heart at ease regarding our potential alliance. If it had been built by the current king, I would have worried that he was such a feckless moron that he would be worthless as an ally. Luckily, that was not the case.

I discussed a few small matters with the servants, my wife, with Vida - nothing truly dangerous, just the sort of honeyed words you let out when you're worried you're being listened to. Vida was clearly nervous, being in her mother's homeland. Elze was calm and serene, even as the servants were clearly intimidated by her.

I knew even before I was called in for an audience that Elze would not be allowed to meet with the king in person. The Fang of Asmodai was a holy thing, but it was also a deadly one. She gave me a soft kiss on the lips when I was called in - the only encouragement I really needed. I brought Vida with me instead. I hoped that her affection for me might impress the Hittani king.

The king himself was an older man, in his seventies. We demons age gracefully, not turning into shriveled prunes in our old age. His hair had silvered, and there were a few lines, but beyond that, he was sharp and stood tall. There was no sign of senility in his eyes, as is so common among your old men. Any demon who somehow got that far along would surely be quietly shuffled off the mortal coil. He sat in an opulent throne, flanked on his sides by numerous soldiers, and his skin was criss-crossed with so many tattoos that it seemed as likely his skin was pink and painted black, as that his skin was black and painted pink.

I recognized the design, and felt an even greater degree of certainty that this man would be a valuable ally, not some effete princeling of a great power, born to squander his father's wealth. The soldiers on his sides appeared to be similarly well-covered in markings. The tattoos were something I was familiar with, even if I was not covered by them. They were an extension of one's magical crest, built out over one's life with careful, painstaking work, enhancing the physical power and growth of the person so marked. In short, it marked them as warriors, raised to be warriors.

I followed all the courtesies of the Hittani court, though I'm sure you don't give a damn. I bowed low and offered praise to the Hittani kings of old for establishing this kingdom, as if they were gods rather than corpses. I stated my humble status relative to the king himself. The man had abandoned his name when he took the throne two decades ago, instead being known simply as the Honored King. I neither remember nor care to remember what his birth name was, so when I addressed him, it was by that title.

"Honored King," I began, "I hope that the Ibaali can come upon the Sirex and seize from them their lands, their wealth, and their people. I offer freely this opportunity to you, as well - that you might also take from the Sirex and claim much of what they have for your own."

The Honored King himself was quiet for a few long seconds. His gaze went from me, then to Vida, a faint smile on his lips. "Is this Navia's daughter?" Vida nodded quickly, though she was clearly unready to deal with being the center of attention. "How is your mother?"

"She is well, Honored Grandfather," Vida said. "She often speaks of you still, and hopes that her sons and mine will grow to be even half as great as you yourself."

He chuckled at that. "I hope not - that would create quite the trouble for Hittana, and indeed all of Hell, if there were so many great kings." He paused, looking at me for a moment, then raised a hand to dismiss me. "Prince Alifex, go be with your wife. I would like to speak to my granddaughter."

"Yes, Honored King," I said, quickly leaving them be.

I had told Vida of the plans I had drawn up to conquer the Sirex, of course. As she was soft and weak, I did worry that she might not have fully understood, or be able to impress upon her father how great a war with Sirex could be, for himself and Ibaal both. But, I also imagined that if she did fail... then we would not have to worry nearly so much about Hittani intervention in our own invasion, as we otherwise might.

I sat down next to my wife, my fingers gently lacing between hers, and she simply smiled warmly at me, fully accepting. My heart raced, seeing her lips curl upwards like that, purely for me and my closeness. "Did it go well, my love?" She asked me.

"It went well, I think," I said, straightening my back with some pride. "It is all down to Vida, now."

Elze hummed at that, looking momentarily distant, then smiled. "It is not up to Vida, my love. You have given her that she needs - or you have not. That is up to you, and I am confident in you."

I let out a small laugh at that.

It was over two hours later that I was finally called back to the royal chambers themselves. Vida actually sat upon her grandfather's lap, and I scarcely managed to contain a bark of laughter. She was a young woman fully grown, sitting like a child, her grandfather's hands on her flanks as he held her in place. "Prince Alifex, I believe I shall help your people in this matter, but I wish Vida to stay here, and I wish you to remain by her side - you can send some of your men back to Ibaal to tell them of my plans."

I made a few rapid calculations, then nodded. "I shall do so. But the Sirex might manage to happen upon the riders, which would be terrible - so I will send Elze along with them. May I send her home with this message?"

"Of course," he said, even smiling more thoroughly. Like any father, he was happy to see the wife gone so his daughter, the concubine, might have the full attention of her man. "She can leave tomorrow morning, along with whoever else of your escort you wish, and supplies so she can make the journey."

"Thank you, Honored King," I said, bowing deeply. I glanced at Vida, but it was clear that she was going to be staying with her grandfather. I soon departed his presence to be with my wife.

* * *

Vida did not come to our quarters, but I did not find myself missing her. My wife was like a man who knows he will not see food for many weeks, and thus gorges himself on as much as he can, so his body can use it in the interim. The moment the two of us were alone, she all but threw me onto the bed, and peeled my clothes off with a rapacity that I found I quite enjoyed. There was no shame in her eyes, as she stripped me bare, as she hungrily grasped my length, stroking it. There was only raw lust as she considered what, in particular, to do with it. Where to take it within her.

I let her decide that question, and in the end, she chose to lean forward, taking my length into her mouth, simply inhaling it in a heartbeat. It was intense and pleasurable, as she slurped on my cock, her crimson eyes staring up at me as she began to rapidly bob on my length. She was an intensely skilled, and intensely giving, lover, as she moved up and down my whole length, my cock pushing deep into her throat. Her tongue slithered back and forth on the underside of my dick, her breath tickling my length as she intermittently mashed her nose into my pubes.

I was not going to simply lie there and enjoy my wife's hard work, however. She deserved to see and feel how much I was enjoying myself, so I made sure to make a show of it, letting every pulse of pleasure make my hips buck, letting out moans and groans of ecstasy. "That's so good, Elze," I breathed out. "You're so much better at that than Vida." That sort of line always got a particularly sharp response from my wife, and it did in this case as well. The smug look in her eyes radiated lust and desire, as she suckled all the harder on my cock. "That girl could never compare to you, my love."

She started to frantically bob on my cock in response, all but fucking her own face on my cock. Her hands slid around to grasp my butt cheeks, and I couldn't have gotten her off my dick if I wanted to, at that point. The powerful suction she could bring to bear was overwhelming, my dick throbbing and threatening to explode at any moment, as I bounced and shivered in place, my hard cock twitching, throbbing, coated in her saliva as it dribbled out of her mouth and sloshed about freely from the frenetic pace she was putting into it.

Her eyes never left mine, though, no matter how hard she fucked her face on my cock. Her throat would occasionally just squeeze around my length, mashing her nose into my pubes as she held herself down and swallowed, again and again. I'd make sure to let out every noise of pleasure I felt for her sake, my hands reaching down to bunch up on the back of her head. Holding her in place was, of course, fruitless - this was a woman shaped by the Fang of Asmodai - but she liked the sensation of it, the knowledge that I had driven her to such pleasure that I was beginning to lose all common sense. I leaned up, grabbing her horns, a tight grip, simply holding her in place, and began to pump her up and down my cock.

The sensations made it obvious to me that she was allowing me to set the pace, but to her, I am quite certain that it felt as though I had utterly lost myself, gone completely mad in the moment and foolishly believed I could overpower her. She just hummed around my length, vibrating me inside her throat, bringing me to ever more intense pleasure. I felt my cock spasm, jerk, threatening to explode, and tried to bring myself towards that ecstasy -

And it was then that she peeled all the way off my cock, popping off with a simple wet noise and leaving my spit-slick length bare in the open air, twitching desperately to find completion, as if it was a serpent searching out its prey once more. She simply grinned at my response, pushing me down onto my back, stripping herself naked a moment later, letting my eyes wander her slim, tall body, her lovely breasts, her gorgeous thighs, as she shifted to tease my cock with her sex, rubbing against it.

I knew what to do in this situation too. "Please, stop teasing me, Elze," I pleaded, putting all due emotion into my voice - a moment later, she slammed down my cock, engulfing me entirely in a heartbeat. With how close I had been to sweet ecstasy and completion just a few scant moments ago, I was instantly unloading inside her, and she squirmed in place at the feeling, panting as she felt me spill my seed inside her. I sighed in sweet relief at the sensations, simply falling lax beneath her for the moment.

She smiled at me, her expression doting - then a certain sadistic smile creeped along her features as she began to slowly work herself up and down my length again. "You didn't think you were done yet, did you, my love?" She prompted, her fingers running across my bare chest, her tongue flashing out along her lips. I rapidly shook my head, and her grin grew all the wider. "Good. I'm going to make you come so many times, you won't even be able to enjoy Vida's body," she noted, starting to pump herself ever faster on my cock, just pounding away, her glorious naked body rising and falling, her insides squeezing and caressing my length inside her.

"She could never compare to you anyway," I breathed out, my fingers running up along her thighs, then finding her firm buttocks and giving it a sharp squeeze. Elze let out a pant of pleasure at the touch, a grin on her lips before she leaned down over me, finding my lips with her own, hungrily kissing me.

Her pace atop me grew ever faster, her pussy pounding up and down my dick. The wet thump-thump of our bodies repeatedly slamming into one another filled the air, her hot breaths in my mouth growing ever hotter as we made sweet love like that, her fingers grasping my horns tight to hold me against her so that I couldn't break off the kiss.

Not that I wanted to, of course. My sweet Elze's breath is like a freshly plucked flower, her tongue like an affectionate serpent. My hands slid from her butt, up her smooth stomach, all the way to her supple breasts, playing with them, teasing her nipples with my fingertips, then pinching them softly. She gasped into my mouth, growing ever faster, ever more frenetic in her pumping, her hips beginning to wiggle from side to side to intensify my pleasure.

When she broke off the kiss, it was with a hot pant, her hands now pressing down against the bed as she loomed over me. Her expression was one of raw lust and desire, crimson eyes drilling down into me, her lips parted, a bit of saliva slowly making its way down her tongue before dripping down onto me. Her cheeks were flush with desire, and my hand slid down to her sex, beginning to play with her clit, making her gasp in pleasure. She shifted her body up, presenting the breast I wasn't playing with to my mouth, and I quickly sucked it in, my tongue flicking her nipple with supernatural skill.

She cried out in ecstasy at that, moaning as she thrashed atop me. Her muscular sex simply squeezed on my length, clamping down as she rammed herself down my cock and held me inside her. She felt amazing as she orgasmed, one hand grasping the back of my head to hold me against her bosom, while all sorts of lewd noises escaped her lips from somewhere above me. "Yes, oh, yes, that's my, that's my Alifex, that's it, oo, oh, ahn, so good, love it, ah!" She was pretty much incoherent with pleasure as I continued to lash my tongue against her nipple and rub her clit, her orgasm seeming to stretch out forever.

The moment it was done, though, she was pounding away again. Elze is not just a hungry woman - she is also a vigorous one, able to keep going and going forever. I must confess to never having managed to sexually exhaust her. I satisfied her every night that we were together. But to exhaust? One might as well try to empty the sea with a teaspoon. You can exhaust the sort of soft girls your world produces, or perhaps Vida. You can't exhaust Elze, and there's no point in trying. You let her exhaust you instead.

And that is precisely what Elze did. She continued to hold me against her breast as she began to fuck me anew, now offering her own countless lewd offerings to me. Words to encourage me. "I want you to come, Alifex," she breathed out. "I want to feel your sweet seed splash inside me. I want you to work your damnedest to make me a mother! Come in me! Come inside me!" She growled the words out, growing ever more energetic as she writhed in place, pumping into me, pressing her tits together so that I could lick both her nipples at once. When her next orgasm hit, I joined her in ecstasy, unable to resist the siren call of her pussy wringing me out like my cock was a towel that needed every last droplet to be removed.

She didn't let me off at that point, either. In the end, I came inside her a dozen times before my body finally gave up any hope of continuing its work. I was a sweaty mess by the end of it, and she simply lovingly tucked me in, wrapped her arms around me from behind, and whispered sweet nothings into my ear about how much she would miss me while we were apart, and how much she hoped to see me again soon.

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