Chapter 1
At this time the Saddle Arabians have no official names, so the husband is named Durk, and the wife is Bashir.
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One fine Saddle Arabian morning, Durk, the Emir of the glorious kingdom under Hoofah the Almighty, awoke to the sounds of stallions being whipped by the obviously far superior mares. He skulked his way out of the bed chamber, hoping not to incure the wrath of his overbearing wife, who had forced him to ride her twice last night. Twice! He wondered what his wife would think if she ever found out he was really gay.
"She'd probably just stone me..." he sighed and trudged out into the sun, he eyed the various tapestries and luxurious marble pillars that shone brightly in the morning sun. He stared at one of their many sexy servants, eyeing the servant's succulent and well built badonkadonk. He licked his lips, admiringthe stocky, muscular legs of his favorite worker. He moaned in ecstasy as he watched the strong stallion's chest glisten with sweat.
"You! Servant boy," Durk called out to his servant. The pony in question immediately dropped what he was doing and rushed over.
"Yes sir?" the servant asked.
"Do you think you could load those bails of hay into that cart?" asked Durk, " I need to feed them to the cows, but it's oh so early, and I'm very tired."
"Of course," replied the succulent, sexy servant as he bent over to put the bails of hay on his back, utterly oblivious to the seductive stares he was receiving from his sovereign.
Durk, for his part was trying not to orgasm, and the strain was causing him to almost faint from sheer perverted perserverence. He stared straight at the toned ass of his worker. He leaned in, took a whiff, and began to feel dizzy.
"Man,"Durk thought to himself," if masturbation weren't a sin I'd be cumming all over his horseshoes.Then again, being gay in my culture is a crime in and of itself so what do I have to lose? Nah, that'd be too awkward, I wish I lived in Equestria, what with their equal rights...and their...their fancy spoons."
Durk looked to his castle, he sighed."My wife's castle is magnificent, the golden drawbridge looks beautiful, the granite staircases are extravagant, and hell, even the emerald toilets are cleaner than our drinking water, but...it just doesn't feel right."he trudged up the staircase to his favorite room, The Dome of Solitude. The dome itself, as the name would suggest, was comprised of a simple glass bubble that provided Durk with a beautiful view of the horizon. He smiled as he watched the sunlight shine upon the hundreds of sand dunes that lay beyond their oasis. He sighed and began to sing.
"Safe behind these windows and these parapets of stone.
Studying the countries all around me,
all my life I have observed them,
their laws and freedoms all astound me.
All my life I've studied all their customs,
knowing them as they will never know me.
All my life I've wondered how it feels to pass a day,
Not far from them,
But part of theeem.
Out there, in Equestria,
Give me one day out there.
Cause this place fuckin sucks."
"HONEY! STOP THAT RACKET!"
Durk looked sheepishly at his wife, and assured her that he would be quiet, lest he face her wrath.
"Sorry honey bun, I'll be quiet."
"Damn right you will," said his wife Bashir, she walked away after letting out a loud harrumph.
Once Bashir was out of earshot, Durk cursed at her, spouting many a misogynistic remark. Suddenly, a loud gurgle emitted itself from his stomach.
"No time for Hunchback of Notre Dame parodies, it's breakfast time."
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Durk looked down at the plate in front of him, sitting in his beautiful obsidian recliner. The plate itself was made of fine china, and it rested upon a fine silk tablecloth that was purple in color. The table underneath the cloth was comprised of imported mahogany that was reddish brown in color.
On the plates was Sambuksak, a delicious Saddle Arabian pastry that is stuffed with a variety of fillings, from ground lamb or beef, to chickpeas, chicken, or spinach.
Durk licked his lips in anticipation, his salivary glands working overtime. He was about to dig into the deliciously sexy meal in front of him when his wife rang in with her awful screechy voice.
"I hate Sambuksak!" She screamed," Get this crap out of my sight and have the chef executed!"
Three ponies walked into the kitchen. From the inside Durk could hear a revving chainsaw, bloodcurdling shrieks, and lots of squeaking. When the three ponies returned they were each covered in blood and assorted viscera, as well as hundreds of watermelon seeds. They then walked up to the table and grabbed both Horses' plates, despite the protests of a hungry and teary eyed Durk.
Bashir looked at the three ponies in abject horror.
"I said to remove the plates and THEN kill the chef, not the other way around," she cried in a shrill tone," somepony execute these stallions!"
Immediately three enormous guards in tuxedos came in and grabbed the offending ponies, dragging them off to some unknown location. More screams could be heard, as well as somepony singing "The Sound of Music."
When the three guards returned they each were coated from head to toe in blood and all of them had Zuchinis taped to their foreheads.
Bashir walked up to them and began to eat the Zuchinis off of the guards' foreheads. As everyone knows that is a great honor in Saddle Arabian culture.
Meanwhile, Durk had his head buried in his hooves.
"Why does this have to happen every morning?" he groaned.
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Well that was chapter one. I'm sure Regidar hopes you enjoyed it. By the way, Sambuksak is an actual Arabian dish, if you'd like to know how to make it then here.
http://www.food.com/recipe/sambousek-spinach-meat-cheese-fillings-284814