Infernaka Ch. 01

"Infernaka"

(a high fantasy erotica novel by J.D. Savanyu)

Chapter One

King Gurnemanz gazed coldly at nine thousand enemies across a daisy-covered meadow in the shadow of Mount Cordag. The warrior king prayed to the gods for guidance, then he bellowed out the order to start the battle, and spurred Gringuljete of The Red Ears into action. His mighty red stallion carried him right into the heart of the action. Twelve thousand Tenabrocian troops quickly pushed the Partakkian army against the edge of the Feirfiz mountains, on an otherwise beautiful day in late spring. The white flowers turned red with blood, mostly from the inferior Partakkians. Those barbaric northerners buckled under the relentless pressure of the better-trained and better-equipped southern empire. Gurnemanz hacked a gory trail through his black-clad foes with Ither, his trusty elven-forged saber.

Meanwhile, Queen Alize waited for his return in the city of Anfortas, fifty miles due south. He loved the smooth feminine sensation of her silk garter against his big manly cock and balls underneath his brown boiled leather armor, as he decapitated yet another war-painted Partakkian. Alize gave him that intimate love token two months ago on the winter solstice to rouse his masculine vigor. She wanted to end the Third Great War just as dearly, and rule by his side over a peaceful united world. King Gurnemanz hadn't seen his queen since that chilly day at the Secundille Palace, when she pulled that expensive piece of lingerie off her left thigh and whispered a prayer to the gods to bring him "back to her loving arms" by the summer solstice. But "loving" had become a relative term. Alize hadn't even touched his dick for the past six months, after failing to produce any heirs to the throne, male or female, over five years of marriage. His sex life was stuck in the mud, and his patience was wearing thin.

Three years of hard work had finally backed the Partakkians into a literal corner, preventing their usual guerilla strategy of quick ambush attacks followed by quick retreats. His brown-clad troops forced them to fight like real men (which they sure as hell weren't.) Unlike the conscripted Partakkians, the Tenebrocian military was comprised entirely of well-paid volunteers, and their dedication made them the most powerful army since the ancient Wolframian Empire. The Partakkians dropped like flies, while the Tenebrocians suffered only a handful of fatalities. Their souls would surely ascend to the great hall of warriors in the heavenly palace of Frimutel, and their righteous martyrdom would ensure an eternal seat at the Banquet of Heroes.

Gurmenanz sliced off dozens and dozens of heads, clearing a path right up to Valakas, the ruthless tyrannical king of Partakkas. Catching him off guard amid a cacophony of shouting men and screaming horses and clashing swords. Gurnemanz waited until he saw the whites of his eyes, then he let out a blood-curdling roar and decapitated a madman who executed 38,000 of his own citizens just for criticizing his shit-crazy policies.

The Partakkian army was soon eradicated, and the war was finally over. A well-earned peace on the continent of Firenza. Gurnemanz led his jubilant army back to their camp by the banks of the Lascoyt River, reflecting the snowy mountains and the orange rays of dusk. The river was only thirty feet wide near its source, but it would stretch out to three hundred feet by the time it passed the royal palace at Anfortas. He gave thanks to Mazadan, the god of war, and Obilot, the goddess of fortune, for joining their divine forces in favor of Tenebroc, the southern Promised Land. Invoking their divine grace to ensure a thousand years of tranquility after a thousand years of turmoil.

His soldiers placed the unrecognizable hoof-squashed remains of King Valakas on a pile of logs, and Gurnemanz uttered a few sentences of customary respect toward his departed foe, without meaning a single breath of it. Clamide, The King's Hand, lit a torch and used it to send Valakas' soul to the hellish dimension of Veldek for a torturous eternity with the Dark Lords. Dozens of foot soldiers danced around the blazing funeral pyre, praising the Lords of Light in song and looking forward to an epic night of drinking and whoring.

Five hundred lovely courtesans emerged from their nearby tents, ready to woo their suitors and spread their legs at the drop of a coin. Prostitution was fully legalized by the raving sex addicted king of Tenebroc. He made sure his soldiers had easy access to homegrown hookers while on their military campaigns, to keep them from drifting away from the camps and sleeping with the enemy (and revealing secret plans to the enemy while drunk and horny.) Gurnemanz rode Gringuljete toward his large red-and-white tent in the center of the camp; eager to frolic with his own private courtesan. Untouchable by anyone but him. A pure untainted pussy for his majesty.

He dismounted his mighty red war horse and saluted two royal guards who stood watch next to the flaps of gray terrawolf hide that served in lieu of a real door. Clamide stopped by the tent on his brown stallion Garschil.

"Congratulations again, your majesty!" Clamide beamed toward Gurnemanz. "Victory is ours at last, and not a fucking minute too soon! Praise Obilot and Her Holy Providence, and may her divine wis--"

"Yes, yes. Stop praising that heavenly wench, and fetch me an earthly one."

"You mean, Katvana?"

"No, I'd rather catch the dick pox from some other trollop." Gurnemanz gave him a cunning sneer, and spat on a cluster of daisies. "Of course I want Katvana!"

"Yes, your majesty."

Clamide hurried toward the tents of "traveling ladies." Gurnemanz entered his own tent, unsheathed Ither, and carefully cleaned the dried blood off the incredibly sharp steel, forged on the holy hill of Monsalväsch. He lit a few candles, took off his blood-stained armor, and took a hearty swig of mead, shifting mind away from the unpleasant business of legalized slaughter and toward the pleasant business of coitus. The nagging shame of adultery was drowned out by the thrill of victory, echoed by the gleeful howling of his soldiers throughout the camp. A bunch of peasant boys having their last hurrah before they went back home and hoed their grain fields every fucking day.

Trevrizent, His Second Lieutenant, entered the tent unbidden, holding a wooden box with several small holes and the royal Partakkian insignia.

"Sorry to disturb you rest, your majesty, but we found something truly remarkable in the tent of Valakas."

"Ah, spoils of victory from my dunderheaded man-screwing foes."

"'Spoils' is much too crude a word to describe this priceless treasure, your majesty."

Trevrizent open the box cautiously and pulled out a gilded bronze cage. What was inside the cage took his breath away like a solid punch to the gut.

"Great Mazadan! A baby dragon!"

The infantile red lizard was only a foot tall at the shoulders, but the intimidating array of spikes jutting out of its head, feet, and tail brought back many bad memories from his early life during the Second Great War. It squawked curiously at the king, almost like a Juqqa bird from the far southern tropics.

"I though they were extinct."

"So did I, Your Majesty. I guess a few dragon eggs survived the Draconian Plague epidemic in the frigid mountains, in suspended animation. Valakas managed to find them and bring them down to warmer climes, restarting the incubation process. We found five eggs in the tent that haven't hatch--"

Trevrizent's voice was frozen by the entrance of Katvana, an impossibly beautiful twenty year-old redhead in a fox fur tunic. Her big emerald eyes immediately met his hazel eyes, and she grinned from ear to ear, striking a seductive pose near the terrawolf fur. A face and body worth killing for, no doubt. Milky white skin, flaming copper hair, large shapely breasts, a flat hourglass stomach, and wide toned child-bearing hips gave her a clear advantage over the other 499 whores who followed the Tenebrocian legions wheresoever they went.

"We shall converse more on that subject tomorrow," Trevrizent muttered as he shuffled past the toward the exit, leaving the dragon in its cage on the king's portable vanity counter. "Good night, your majesty."

"Indeed it will be," Gurnemanz beamed toward Katvana. Alone at last with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, gazing into her her hypnotic fairy-like eyes. Her northern ancestry was painfully obvious, with a hint of elf blood from her extended family. They defected from Brumbane, a Partakas border province, when she was only five years old. Seeking a better life in the democratic southern kingdom.

"All hail the victorious King of Tenebroc," she proclaimed in a mellifluous voice.

"Praise be to Obilot for her gracious providence. And further praise to Katvana, the living rival to her divine charms."

She giggled at his clumsy flirtatiousness. Her eyes drifted over to the baby dragon, and she gasped in utter shock.

"Holy shit! I thought dragons were extinct, your majesty!"

"Apparently not." He repeated what Trevrizent said, adding that "they must have been planning a surprise dragon assault on Tenebroc, a couple years down the line. Using their fire breath to flash-fry our helpless soldiers."

"Sneak attacks were their best hope against your vastly superior military, my darling."

Katvana took a closer look at the caged creature, with a radiant motherly expression on her face. "Is this delightful creature a boy or a girl?"

"A girl, if such a gentle term can be applied to a monster."

"Ooh, you are such a sweet little lady!" she cooed at the scaly spiky animal. It squawked eagerly at her and ruffled its angular red wings like a puppy begging her bitch for milk. "Don't listen to that bad man, calling you a monster. You're the prettiest girl in the whole wide world."

"She's pretty now, but she won't be in six months, when she's eight feet tall and blowing her first plume of fire at some bratty kid who throws a stone in her cage."

"That's far in the future, your majesty. For now, you must love this dragon like your own child."

"I certainly will," Gurnemanz muttered, displacing a bit of anger toward Alize and her possible infertility. "The other eggs will hatch soon, and we'll train those dragons to be loyal fighters, reviving the Tenebrocian Air Corps. A Draconian Renaissance, and a glorious new world order."

Katvana ignored his reflexive political posturing. "Does this cute little lady have a name?"

"Not yet." Gurnemanz paused to come up with a fitting moniker. "I believe I shall call her... Infernaka. For the fire that she longs to breath."

"Infernaka, I love that. A mysterious name for a femme fatale. Infernaka of The Red Wings, you will surely grow to be a mighty dragon. Yes you will, you little booga-boo. Yes you will. I just want to eat you up, you delicious baby-doll!"

Gurnemanz loved the playful antics of that ginger woman. Baby talk turned them both on.

"Come now, Katvana. Stop doting on that stupid animal, and show me your lovely body."

She giggled sweetly. "Show me your lovely coin, your majesty."

"A wise businesswoman, insisting on payment up front."

He unlocked a small treasure chest next to his sleeping roll and picked out a gleaming brass ekunat coin, embossed with his own royal name and head on one side, and a flying dragon on the other. Ekunats were worth a hundred times more than the nickel lubben coins that most of the other courtesans received from their lowly soldier customers.

"Thank you kindly!" she beamed while taking the ekunat. "Wow, look at the handsome man on this coin. I want to eat him up too!"

She bit the coin playfully, making him chuckle. She placed it in her fox fur-lined purse and untied the drawstring on her fluffy fox fur tunic. It fell to the grassy ground in a smooth animalistic ruffle, revealing her amazing naked body. His wartime weariness instantly vanished, and blood rushed down to his penis, raising it to a full ten inches in only five seconds.

"Gods be praised. You're so fucking foxy."

"Grrrrrrr," she growled playfully while swatting her "claws" against his chest. "Shall I do the honor of undressing His Royal Highness?"

"By my leave, you may."

She unfastened his brown boiled leather tunic, set it down next to his blood-stained metal armor, and shimmied his woolen undergarments down his heavily muscled legs. His royal cock sprang out toward her face, and she jammed it right down her throat without even touching it with her hands. He howled triumphantly as she devoured his impressive manhood like a roast leg of Briziljan pheasant. His voice joined the jubilant cacophony that rang out across the camp.

"Slow the fuck down!" he growled. "I'm getting my fucking money's worth this time."

She growled louder against his sensitive organ, and slowed down to a moderate tempo. He grabbed her red hair with both hands and forced her all the way down the shaft, making her gag. He rocked her pale face back and forth against his brown pubic hair at a rapid clip, making her gag over and over and over, ignoring her obvious discomfort. He treated women kindly and gently most of the time, but never while "making love." Rough sex was his second favorite form of anger management, after chopping off heads.

He kept ramming his loyal skin soldier down her throat while staring at that cute-yet-creepy red dragon. Infernaka stared intently at the action, as if her tiny lizard brain could even begin to understand the concept of fellatio. He pictured Alize committing adultery at the Secundille Palace with one of her well-hung manservants. Bending her over against her gold-trimmed ebony jewelry cabinet, and fucking her in the asshole like a Partakkian savage. Their domestic life was crumbling, but they maintained an outer show of wedded bliss for the good of the kingdom. He still loved his beautiful ginger queen despite the lack of physical fulfillment, but Alize obviously wanted someone more "sensitive."

Gurnemanz reluctantly let go of her head, and Katvana pulled out with a guttural gasp of submissive pleasure. Gringuljete whinnied outside the tent, adding another annoying animal sound to the mix.

"Permission to attend your royal balls, Your Majesty."

"Attend them in high style, you fucking whore."

She shoved both of his hairy testicles between her full red lips. Swishing them around with her tongue like those honey drops she loved so well. Buying lots of candy with her hard-earned coins. She soon got bored with his royal balls, and went back to his royal penis, whipping her head back and forth on the upper five inches with relentless vigor. Her neck was the strongest part of her body. His long dick finally emerged from her mouth five minutes later, and she shot him a very wry grin.

"Does his majesty wish to mount his other red stallion?"

"I command it! Get down on all fours, and stick your ass up in the air."

She followed his order just like one of his soldiers, dropping to the grassy ground and arching her back.

"Get that ass up as high as you fucking can."

She promptly obeyed, forming a steep inverted V-shape that resembled an angry bull. Her wet pussy peeked out impeccably. Gurnemanz grabbed her big tight heart-shaped ass and slammed his huge penis all the way up her "holy of holies." Her body swayed forward with the heavy impact, and she moaned loudly as he commenced yet another round of brutal fucking with his hired mistress. The baby dragon echoed her moans with high-pitched shrieking. He spanked her ass cheeks hard and repeatedly, and Infernaka kept shrieking in perfect harmony with Katvana, ruffling her red wings for emphasis and rattling the metal cage.

He dimly recalled a scene from his early childhood, when his parents took him to royal air shows with majestic dragons swooping through the sky, with highly-trained female dragon riders sitting on their backs. The beasts gravitated toward women like overgrown tabby cats, sensing their stronger emotional auras and protecting them from danger... until the Great Draconian Plague left only a few frozen eggs in the hinterlands.

"Fuck me harder, your majesty!"

"You don't give the fucking orders! I do!" he roared, and gave her posterior a solid smack.

"Apologize, you fucking bitch!"

"I'm sorry, your majesty," she whimpered, playing along like a good sport. Rough sex was just as therapeutic for her, after witnessing the horrifying battle from a safe distance. He attacked her ass just like an enemy soldier, skillfully holding back his royal seed. That goddamn dragon got on his last nerve with that infernal squawking.

"Shut the fuck up, you shit-brained lizard! I command it!" he roared. But of course Infernaka didn't obey his command. Gurnemanz hoisted Katvana up in the air with his burly arms and threw her down on his plush sleeping roll, making her laugh and scream simultaneously. He shoved her legs behind her head and jammed her wrists together with both hands, curling her up into a tight little ball and attacking her vagina even more. She moaned even louder, and so did Infernaka. His ravenous appetite demanded soft warm female satiety every single night, no matter the price, no matter the consequences. Thoroughly compensating for what he wasn't getting at the Secundille palace. He wrapped his hands around her neck and bit her big tits a dozen times, leaving pink teeth marks all over on her milky white flesh, and driving her insane.

"Oh my fucking gods! You're a wolf in sheep's clothing, your majesty."

"You're a bad bitch who loves running with the wolves. You're not fooling anyone with that fucking girly-girl act."

"I want to taste your royal seed. Please cum in my mouth. I command it!"

"That's one order I'm willing to take from a fucking whore!"

He pulled out of her pussy, grabbed her long red hair, and yanked her head off the ground, forcing her up on her knees. He shoved the throbbing pink tip of his massive manhood against her full red lips, and masturbated frantically. His royal seed literally exploded all over her fair visage. Gurnemanz howled in ecstatic triumph; winning a war and having the best orgasm of his life in the space of only three hours. His howling sputtered out into heavy exhausted gasping. Infernaka stopped making noise the instant Katvana did.

She sucked out every last drop of semen, and fingered every last drop off her face and tits, putting it in her mouth and swallowing it with a very contented hum. He sank down on the sleeping roll, and she rested her head against his rock-hard pectoral muscles. A thick blanket of melancholy descended from the heavens, covering their naked sweaty bodies with existential weariness. Gurnemanz pictured Queen Alize lying alone on a huge plush mattress under an intricately carved wooden canopy, praying for his safe return after getting screwed senseless by that smirking servant. The gods apparently answered her prayers, but she needed to pray a lot harder to stop the bigger storm that rumbled on the horizon.

"That was the best sex I ever had, your majesty. I swear to the gods I'm not lying."

"I know you're not, because dragons never lie. They can sense the genuine pain and pleasure of women from a mile away. But you weren't old enough to remember those golden years, when maidens doted on massive lizards."

She started sobbing against his chest, and Infernaka started squawking again. "I love you so much, Gurnemanz. With all my heart and soul."

"I love you too, Katvana. But you can never be more than my secret playmate, because a king could never marry a courtesan. That would shatter the fragile balance of society."