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The Life of Windsire

Chapter 1: His Training

Sponsored by ShaeSullivan

By Draconicon

Living under the Mongoose Court meant that one's life was guaranteed to be interesting, sometimes more interesting than anyone ever expected. For Windsire, 'more interesting' was his day to day life, though 'dangerously interesting' was the better description for the current moment.

The stallion brought his arm up, blocking the chopping blow from above before lashing out with a kick. It was like trying to batter down a solid wall, but the mongoose still pulled back, laughing all the while.

"Hah! Is that all you got?"

"I'm holding back, as ever," Windsire panted.

"Holding back will get you killed. You and your charge."

Once more, the mongoose lunged for him, the gray-furred warrior punching and kicking with the force and fury of an avalanche. Windsire ducked and dodged as best he could, already feeling himself pulling on the edges of his powers as his sparring partner pushed him to the limits of his normal abilities.

He panted as he wove among the blows, trying to find some opening to strike back, but Girisha was too fast. The mongoose general was always where he didn't expect him to be, pulling his arms back too fast to be struck, sweeping his legs out of grabbing range every time that Windsire tried to close to grapple. It was like the older man knew every trick in the trade.

He should, Windsire thought, just as a kick came out of nowhere. The blow caught him right in the belly, knocking him back a dozen paces and into the wall on the other side of the room. He grunted from the blow, the wind knocked out of his lungs by the hard blow, and he struggled to get to his feet.

Girisha was already on him. The mongoose's kick nearly splattered his brains over the walls, and cracked the stone floor from the sheer force of it. The stallion swept out his legs, finally landing a kick on the general's knee. As the gray-furred soldier went down, Windsire leaped to his feet and answered with a kick of his own. It blurred through the air, coming down right at the general's face -

But it wasn't enough. Girisha caught him by the ankle, holding his foot a few inches above his head. The pair of them strained, muscle against muscle, and the old man laughed.

"Haha, that's better. I was starting to think that you couldn't stand up to me without the demon side."

"I'm...trying."

"Well, try harder!"

The general flipped him over, sending him flying back into the wall, but this time he was ready for it. Windsire kicked off it, already punching away as he got in range, and the pair of them fought as hard as they ever had, their blows little more than glancing touches against one another as they bobbed and weaved to keep out of the way of the worst blows, and diverted the others as much as they could.

Windsire kept it up for almost two minutes before exhaustion started setting in, and the voice started whispering in the back of his head.

Let me out. You know I can help with this.

Shut up. This is normal training. You can wait until we're talking with father again.

This is humiliating, you realize that? If I were out -

We'd just last a little longer before the Lord of the Mountain defeated us.

...

Now be quiet before -

A fist that he hadn't even seen came at him from the side, and it took him right in the cheek. The blow was hard enough to send him flying once more, and this time, not just against the wall. He nearly went through it, the curved stone surface cracking around him and forming a crater. He coughed, gasping for breath.

When he was able to look up again, Girisha's fist was right over his throat, the old mongoose chuckling.

"You're getting better. Maybe you won't even need all that demon blood to be a good bodyguard."

"Ugh...You...you're gonna...kill me one of these days."

"Not likely, considering who your father is."

The general pulled him out of the crater, slapping a hand on his back a few times until the dust cleared. Windsire took a couple of deep breaths, clearing his throat of any blood or debris. Not much of either, just enough to make it a little uncomfortable as the demon side of him commenced healing.

Following the older mongoose out of the training room, the loincloth-wearing stallion let himself be guided to a table where tea - coffee for Girisha - was set out, and placed himself on the far side of the low, wooden table. He crossed his legs under him with a grunt, getting as comfortable as he could with the older man staring down at him.

He knew that a combat review would begin soon, and he was already going through the whole match in the back of his head. Everything stood out in crystal clarity for him, and he was able to run through the different moves that he'd used, seeing if he could have done better at any point.

You were fighting at your weakest. Stop beating yourself up about it, the demon side said.

Shut up. I'm supposed to be able to fight without using your power all the time.

If they didn't want you to use me, then they wouldn't have asked mother to breed with father.

I don't want to think about that.

You know he's going to want to talk about it again.

Please, don't remind me.

As he sipped at his tea and pushed the other personality in his head back down to where it belonged, a runner entered the room. The ferret rushed to the older mongoose on the other side of the table, leaning down and whispering in his ear. The exchange only lasted a few seconds before Girisha laughed.

"Hahaha! If my brother is so bothered by the noise, he can come down from his tower and tell me himself. I'm training a royal bodyguard here."

"Shall I run that message back to him, Prince Girisha?"

"Do that! And tell him he's still invited to the party tonight."

"I doubt that he'll enjoy that, sir."

"I don't care. Tell him anyway. Old courtmaster needs to loosen up..."

The ferret left, leaving the pair of them alone again. It was all that Windsire could do not to make a comment, considering the implications.

I don't want to get on Manu's bad side again, he thought. The last time I did that, he got me tied up in so much paperwork that I spent weeks getting out of it.

Then why don't you go 'apologize' to him later, on behalf of your teacher? I'm sure that he'd accept it...not.

And that's why I'm not going.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the tea for a little bit to keep from thinking about all the other stuff going on. The last thing that he needed right now was to work himself up into a state.

"Hmmm."

Girisha's voice pulled him back, though, and he looked up at the mongoose. The prince-general looked back at him, and chuckled.

"I gotta admit. I'm getting rather impressed with you. The more we spar, the more you seem to learn about how I fight. This keeps up, I'm gonna have to start importing fighters for you to deal with."

"It's...something of a talent, sir."

"That's good. You learn how to fight someone through fighting them, not just studying them. We have tacticians for that. You gotta deal with the people that come in and start beating you up without telling you there's a war on. That's the stuff that you'll be protecting my little brother from, and I'm gonna make damn sure that you're ready for it."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"Any way that I can."

"And...the demon powers?"

"Hell, I don't know how you work those. That's up to your dad, not me."

The old mongoose waved a hand dismissively.

"That said, I'm not going to throw away an asset. That old church can say what it wants. This is a tradition for a reason, and I'm not throwing away a fighter that can summon fire and darkness just because some old men in stupid hats say that you're to be feared for what you are."

He nodded, the stallion looking down at his cup. It was something that he'd been aware of for a while. Aparajita - the city and country that Girisha served - was a powerful kingdom, a land where there was much in the way of magic and power, but there were always bigots of some sort. There was never a land without some problem, and here...

Well, the people were terrified of demons. They saw him, and his father's people, as the signs of something wrong, of something that had come to claim their souls or something along those lines. He had never bothered getting into a deep debate with them about it. There was only one person whose opinion on his bloodline mattered, and...well, she wasn't part of his life anymore. He had given up on that, a long time ago.

He sipped at his tea again, the silence between him and the general stretching on for a few minutes before his trainer spoke again.

"I'll be talking to my father later about your progress. You can be sure that King Suresha is going to want to see what you can do."

"That's assuming that he hasn't been spying on our training sessions already, sir."

"Heh, he might have, but even the King's power isn't good enough to see that much in detail. Don't let it go to your head, but I'm pushing myself to keep up with you, these days. I'm not sure how, but you're getting faster and faster, even in normal form."

"I...I didn't know that, sir."

He smiled slightly, unable to help himself. After nearly a decade under the general's teachings, he'd thought that he was barely improving. Girisha was always a step or two ahead of him, always pushing him harder than anyone else that he had been pushed to spar against. The stallion had never been able to get more than a tap-hit against him in the sparring matches they had, and he'd always assumed that he'd never be stronger. But if he was pushing the old man...

He felt the familiar stirrings deep inside, and squashed them, pushing the demon personality down before it could start encouraging those thoughts. If getting on Manu's bad side would be problematic, getting on Girisha's bad side was nearly a suicide note.

But it would be so much fun to push him down under us, show him how strong we can be...

Yeah? And how long until the King decides that means we're a risk and need to be banished?

Oh, please, like he would throw away the investment that we represent. We're going to be here forever, unless we break a huge law, like going after the person we're supposed to protect.

His other personality was probably right, but he didn't want to risk it. There was no point or profit in pushing his luck, and besides...

They took us in. They might have made us...been responsible for us...but they didn't have to raise us, too.

The demon side had no answer to that, and Windsire was happy for that.

Old memories of living with a distant mare had almost faded from his mind. She'd left him when he was barely six years old, and had never come back, going to a monastery in the far reaches of the kingdom. She said that she was atoning for the sin of bearing him, and had never tried to get in contact again. He'd tried...he'd tried three times, but she had never responded.

Instead, the Mongoose Court, the royal family of the city, had picked him up. Windsire had no illusions that the King had ordered it for any reason but to keep him safe and start building him up as a resource, but over time, he'd gotten to know many members of the Court. Girisha, as his trainer, was the closest, but there were others that were nearly as dear to him. Manu, for all his grumpiness, had used his power as a prince and as head of the courts to ensure that all nobles and commoners that tried to trap him and banish him were properly punished. Surya, of the Church of the Sun, worked among the religious figures of the city to try and bring some understanding and kindness to him, for his own mortal nature if nothing else. Others, still, had been there for him.

They were his family, and there was no denying that. A better family than he could have asked for, in many ways.

He put the cup down.

"When will the King wish to see my progress?"

"Probably in a week or so. You have time to keep practicing, heh."

"Do I have your permission to challenge some of the guard, to see what my progress is?"

"Hmmm..."

He hesitated as the grayed mongoose pressed a hand to his chin, fighting the urge to beg for it. Other soldiers and guards had been off-limits to him since he had begun his training. At first, he had thought that it was because he would be too weak to work with them, but if Girisha had been pushing himself of late...

Oh, get it through your head already. They were worried that I'd kill them, the demon said.

You weren't that strong, back then.

You think so? Remember the time when you blacked out in the alley, that time we left the palace to go and find our mother the first time?

...You didn't.

Heh, you don't want to know what I did. But I think that played a part in it.

Windsire hid the inner shudder that went through him, not wanting it to color the mongoose's decision. At the same time, he wondered. He remembered being about nine years old, remembered leaving the palace to try and find where his mom had gone when no messages had come back about her. He remembered walking the streets, getting cornered in an alley after a bunch of thugs followed him there. He remembered that something had happened, but what...well, that was the mystery.

Had the demon...done something? It was after that when all the restrictions started piling up, but...

"I see no reason why you can't have a supervised match."

"...Why supervised?"

"If the demon decides that he wants to have a turn, I want to make sure that I'm around to keep him from going too far."

"Is it that bad?"

"If you don't remember, then it's probably for the best. But just like you're a soldier under me, and I'll take care of you, so is every other guard on the palace grounds. I'm not going to let someone get hurt because something got out of hand."

"...Yes, sir."

Windsire bowed his head in acquiescence, even as the demon inside of him growled in annoyance. For once, it was a shared feeling. He was curious as to how strong he'd become, and there was no chance for him to actually test that without going all out with someone. Even holding back and testing things in a measured fashion would only tell him how strong he was, proportionally, to his full power, and that was not the same in the slightest.

The older mongoose chuckled, finishing his coffee before standing up. He reached for a robe, covering his naked body - he had always been one to fight in the nude - and pulled it tight around the middle.

"Well, I better to make sure that my brother's not drafting up restrictions for me, or slipping drinking laws into the books. Last time he did that, I got thrown into the palace dungeon for a month for drunken behavior, heh."

"I will be here, sir."

"Here? Nah, go out and have some fun. There's girls and guys aplenty on the streets, looking for any sort of action."

He blinked.

"Are you...suggesting I go and buy a whore?"

"Why not? It's not like you don't have the same needs we do, and it's faster than trying to get someone to bed you in a tavern or something."

Windsire blushed slightly, though his demon side was cackling away. It was for that reason that he wasn't so keen on going to get some partner that way. It just felt like it would end in disaster. He cleared his throat, shaking his head.

Before he could actually protest, a clink filled his ears. He glanced up at the table and saw that a coin pouch had been thrown down on it. The very top had opened slightly, showing a few gold coins at the top. If it was completely full of those...

"Sir, I can't."

"It's up to you, Windsire. Personally, I'd go and get an orgy started after getting permission from my teacher, particularly on his gold, but it's up to you. I'll be back tomorrow morning."

The mongoose general left, and the room was finally silent. The stallion looked down at the pouch of gold, feeling the temptation of getting some...action...rising in the back of his head. He knew that the demon wanted it; he could feel his other half's lust rising already, pushing down towards his cock and begging for attention, but he was trying to think it through, trying to be smart about it.

While he had been forbidden from running off through the city for a time, that restriction had been eased three years ago, when he was fifteen. He remembered the day when he'd been allowed to go through the capital without a guard at his side, and remembered how far and fast he'd traveled. Running from the rooftops, leaping from one building to another had occupied him for a time. Slipping from place to place as a shadow, darting from one alley to another like dark lightning had been amazing. Flying over the city in a blazing whirlwind of fire had filled his heart with exhilaration.

But all of that came with a price. Using his power like that had brought the demon to the surface, and had almost ended up with him in an alley with a streetwalker, fucking their brains out and leaving them enslaved to the demon's power. Even now, with him in charge, he could feel his cock slowly rising beneath his loincloth, and the heat of the demon's corruption pouring off of it.

No. We are not doing this. We are not getting someone caught and corrupted.

Our teacher is paying for it. It's not like we need to worry about getting in trouble, this time.

He isn't thinking clearly. Or this is a test. Or something like that.

We have FREE gold. We can spend it on literally anything. Why are you making this so hard for the both of us?!

Because I don't want to mess this up. Because I want to make them proud of us.

He stood up, tying off the bag of gold, and carried it to one of the shelves built into the far side of the room. Most of it was occupied with various weapons, all of which he knew how to use after this long. The stallion set the bag down, but before he could pull his hand away, the other grabbed at his wrist. He glared at it, the skin already darkening from the soft crimson to a deeper, darker one of the demon's coat.

"Let go."

Come on, just for a bit. We don't have to go all the way.

"I'm not going to give you another chance to be in charge. Last time, you blew up a whole quarter of the bazaar."

We were chasing an assassin, he'd tried to kill Girisha, bla bla bla. We both know that was completely justified.

"By you."

And by the king, and by Manu, and by Mani, and by all the rest of the Mongoose Court that matter. When are you going to let that go?

"When you stop thinking that it was excusable. There were other ways besides blowing up twenty different market stalls and who knows how much merchandise."

But nobody died, nobody got hurt.

"You...ugh!"

He leaned forward, grumbling against the shelf. If it wasn't for the fact that it would likely kill him, Windsire would have paid serious consideration to some of the offers from the outer churches to exorcise his demon half. Not always, but at times like this, when it was being this persistently annoying...

He felt his fingers clenching tighter and tighter, and he forced his hand to let go. The pouch of coins was slightly deformed already, looking like someone had been working it over with a vise to crush the gold together, but he was pretty sure that the gold was undamaged in the bag.

Before he could leave the room, he felt a familiar heat. The stallion groaned, closing his eyes as he felt his mane and his tail start to shimmer, shifting from fur to the strangely magical darkness that they always became when his demon side starting pulling forward...or when his father was summoning him.

"Now?"

Ugh, usually I like these visits, but seriously. NOW?!

Turning on his heel, Windsire looked at the portal that had formed behind him. The soft gray of the room burned with the hot red of the hellish landscape ahead of him. Fire flared up like mountains in the distance, and in the foreground of the portal was a large, red-stone manor. It was like it was made of bricks, but looking closer, one could see the soft bits of white and yellow flecks within the blocks. Bones of the damned helped support that great house, and Windsire knew from experience that there were a great many souls that had been pulled together to form it.

He glanced around the portal, wondering if he dared leave, but the corruption was already pouring through. The portal would remain here, oozing with the taint of Hell, until he stepped through. It was his father's way of making sure that he obeyed the summons. He couldn't let someone else get corrupted like this.

So, with a sigh, the stallion stepped through.

The instant his foot touched Hell-soil, he felt the demon in him getting stronger. The other personality always did in the face of corruption, in its home realm. Windsire gritted his teeth, feeling one eye heat up with the burning power of the demon side, going from a faded blue to a soft yellow, the landscape changing color in its vision. The various sources of Hell magic, the power of demons and the corrupting aura that spread throughout the entire realm, was visible with that eye, and he forced himself to look up at the manor again.

No longer just a building, it oozed with a deep red glow, tendrils of power that were invisible to mortal eyes reaching out, grasping at souls that had been invisible and drawing them in. Windsire groaned, covering his demon eye, feeling his other side complaining.

Come on, we're home now. You can let me out here.

"Not until we see what father has to say."

He's just going to want to chat. Come on, let me out. It'd be fun.

"Not yet."

Ooooh, the tendrils see us now. Time for some reacquainting.

Windsire groaned as he felt them coming to him, the soft, ethereal tentacles reaching down and lifting his loincloth before he could stop them. They pushed it out of the way, revealing his sheath and slowly began stroking it. The horse groaned under his breath, already feeling the heat of the corruption in his veins, already feeling his cock starting to throb. The deep crimson fires of his demonic heritage lit up, forming cracks and jagged lines of fire-light around the base of his sheath, running up along his belly and around his waist, and down over his balls as the touch of Hell set in.

The demon was coming out, and there was no way that he could stop it. The only thing he could do was slow it down.

He kept walking forward, feeling the tendrils stroking along his hips and his rump, slowly removing his loincloth. He would have fought them on that, but he learned on his first trip here that it just didn't work. His father's power was too strong to resist, and it was what guided the tendrils of the mansion.

So, he walked through the front doors naked, his cock already half-out of its sheath and bobbing, throbbing for attention in mid-air. Windsire did his best to ignore it, even as the demon eye went from yellow to orange, and some of the Hell-sight was spreading to his other eye. He panted softly, his balls churning and his heart beating faster. The power of the demon side was rushing up and down his arms, making them pulse, the muscles almost feeling like they were getting ready to grow and bulge outwards. There was so much...potential...there.

Mmmm, it's always good to be where we belong.

"We belong...topside..."

Oh, it's more fun there, but come on. This is one of our homes.

It was something that he couldn't honestly deny. Even though he was the mortal half, even though he had been born of the world above and wanted to get back to it, he couldn't deny that there was comfort here. His soul, half-demonic as it was, felt comfortable here just as the mortal half felt comfortable back in Aparajita. He didn't like it...but it was home.

An imp appeared in a flash of fire, popping out of its flame. It bowed to him, then stood, wrinkled little face and little bat wings twitching.

"Lord Windsire. Your father will be glad that you came so quickly. Shall I escort you to him?"

"No, I know the way."

"Will you be requiring the services of a succubus afterwards?"

"I...go away."

His cock throbbed hard at the idea of a succubus - or an incubus, for that matter - but he knew better. His demon side was already going to be insufferable upon his return, and he didn't need to make things harder for himself.

It didn't take long to reach his father's study, the manor's hallways leading him there once he allowed his demon half to bend his will upon it. The place shifted, stretching and then contracting around him as a staircase appeared out of nowhere. He mounted it, climbing upwards while surrounded by pictures of submissive males and enticing females, and hissed under his breath.

"Did you...have to?"

If I can't be out, then I will at least have a view to enjoy on the way.

"You...are...horrible."

By the time they reached the top floor and the door of the study, his cock was rock hard, the tip of his shaft flared and expanded far beyond the width of the rest of his shaft, and the crackling lines of Hell-fire had spread halfway up his shaft and had completely covered his balls. His tail and his mane were nothing more than writhing shadow rather than hair, and both of his eyes had gone almost completely red, with the white of them gone black. He could see it in the mirror by his father's door, and he groaned. The demon half was almost fully in control.

"Fine...take it."

Mentally, he stepped back, and the other personality stepped forward. The demon grinned as he pushed the door open, and Windsire sat in the back of his own head, trying not to think about how depraved this was going to get.

On the far side of the study, another stallion, bigger than him by a foot of height, turned around. The great mercenary demon, so powerful that he had carved an estate out of the hills that belonged to the devil himself, grinned and rushed to him. The two naked stallions embraced, the demons grinning with each other as they squeezed tighter and tighter. Inside, Windsire felt like their body was going to pop, but his demon half didn't even seem to acknowledge it.

Finally, the pair of them let go, and their father chuckled.

"It's been some time. Almost...what, four of your months?"

"Heh, about that, yeah. What did you want, father?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Updates about the family up there, information about the way that the church is treating you, any lovers -"

"There are none."

Windsire forced himself forward to say that, and then pulled back. His demon half grumbled afterwards, shaking its head.

"Sorry about that, father. He still gets annoyed about that."

"Still? Son, I thought that you would have had that sorted by now. I understand that you're a half-demon, and that you have to deal with a mortal side, but shouldn't you two have some sort of accommodation by now?"

One where he runs the shots and I just sit back here, you mean?

"He's, uh, not so keen on the ideas you've proposed in the past, heh."

"Well, come up with something different. I want to see some more of my line spread across the earth. I want to see you partying it up. I want to see some happy fucking going on."

Ugh. You want to watch?

"He's wondering if you want to watch."

I didn't sound like I was offering it!

Their father, however, was laughing.

"Of course I do! I didn't give you that cock for you to keep it tucked into a loincloth for your whole life. I wanted to see it get used to make people scream for more. I wanted to see people give in to their corrupted natures, to embrace that hedonistic pleasure that comes from fucking a demon. I want to see it spread all over."

The older demon chuckled, leaning back against the desk he'd stood up from and grabbing his own cock. Windsire and his other half both looked down at it, and while Windsire groaned, he couldn't deny where his body had inherited its masculinity from. Their father was...well-endowed, to put it mildly, and while their cock had fire lines of corruption running through it, the cock that had made them was thick and heavy with that demon power, glowing from base to tip with the fires of Hell.

"So, son, how do you measure these days?"

"Heh, you can see that, can't you?"

Windsire was growling and grinding his teeth, metaphorically, as his demon side stepped up to their father. Seven-foot half-demon, eight-foot demon, both of them with cocks that were hard as a rock. He had to look through his demonic half's eyes, staring down at the cocks as they were pressed together, heavy, fiery balls churning against each other even as their cocks twitched and throbbed, the rounded flared tips grinding against each other and drooling all over.

As ever, he didn't quite measure up to his father, but he came closer than he used to. His cock was about a foot and a half long, maybe a bit more, smooth and thick, while his father's topped out at a little over two feet in length. They were both drooling pre over each other, making their cocks slippery and wet, and he could feel the intense power of his father's corruptive influence washing over him.

The bigger stallion reached down, gripping their cocks together and stroking slowly. The demon's touch left him shivering, even in the back of his head, and the demonic half grinned, thrusting forward into that clenched fist.

"Mmm, we're gonna have some fun, dad?"

"Heh, not too much, son. But there's no way that we can talk business when we're this hard. Let's work it out."

Windsire blushed as he was left in the back of his own head as the pair of demons thrust back and forth, grinding their cocks against each other. Up and down, up and down, flares and medial rings grinding against each other and against the rest of the shaft as they teased one another. The tight grip of their father's hand around their cocks ensured that there was no escape from the constant teasing and pleasure.

He was thankful, for once, that the demon side was in charge. If he had been out there, the corruption from his father's cock would have left him a drooling, throbbing, begging slut of his former self. His demon side was already corrupt, already oozing with corruption, so for him, it was just something to make him hornier.

The two stallions kept thrusting for almost ten minutes, grunting and grinding against each other, before they went over the edge. Yellow and white seed went splattering against the ceiling, some of it evaporating in the intense heat of Hell, the rest soaking in and adding a musky scent to the room. He knew from experience it would last exactly as long as the meeting with his father.

His demon half sat down, and so did their father. Chuckling, the muscular, scarred stallion leaned in.

"So, tell me about your lessons? How's it going?"

"Well..."

End of Part 1