Blood Sample

by angelbunny

First published

Coco Pommel shows Prince Blueblood the ropes on how to please a mare.

Prince Blueblood is Equestria’s most sought after eligible bachelor. A mare could become a princess by marrying him – but no mare has been willing to put up with his obnoxious personality long enough for him to reach the physical intimacy stage. The solution: an arranged marriage! Blueblood wants to shed his ignorance on the subject of sex... but with only twenty-four hours before his wedding day (not to mention his honeymoon), who could possibly help him in time?

Coco Pommel is an up-and-coming designer. She’s received the opportunity of a lifetime as the designer of Prince Blueblood’s outfit for a Canterlot wedding. She’s very happy to have a career in a field that she loves – yet she can’t help but long for the day when that very special somepony comes along to sweep her off her hooves and marry her. But with so many failed relationships under her saddle, does she still have what it takes to drive a stallion wild in the boudoire?

Can two ponies brought together by dumb luck find what they’ve been searching for in one another?

Written as a New Year’s gift fic for Normal.
(Tagged Sex for later chapters)

Down and Out

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Coco Pommel’s jaw dropped as she took in all the splendor of Canterlot’s magnificent architecture. Her hometown of Manehattan had many tall buildings but smoggy skies had rendered many of their rooftops imperceptible. On this day, Canterlot’s sky was pristine and the sun illuminated every structure from spire to foundation.

The pony standing in front of her in line had stepped forward into Canterlot Castle, leaving a gap between her and the guard responsible for checking in all of the royal guests. Coco was so in awe of the scenery that she hadn’t noticed just how quickly the wait for her turn had passed.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” said the charcoal grey unicorn guard standing at the castle gate.

“Good afternoon, sir,” said Coco, putting on a pleasant smile as she strode forward.

“May I see your papers and identification, please?”

“You certainly may.” She dug her left forehoof into her bag and produced a stack of documents which included her hauler’s license and invitation. The unicorn guard accepted the documents from her via levitation and inspected them to verify their authenticity. “I’m Coco Pommel, the designer of Prince Blueblood’s tuxedo for his upcoming wedding. I’ve already completed the garment; I’m just here to deliver it and make any last minute adjustments to ensure that he’s one hundred percent satisfied with the fit.”

“I see.” The guard hadn’t taken his eyes off the papers he held.

Coco grinned. She could tell that, even under all that armor, this stallion was every bit as sexy as the ones that appeared in her Hunky Guards of Canterlot Castle wall calendar back home.

“Will you be attending the wedding?” asked Coco.

“No, ma’am,” said the guard. “I’ll be on security detail for the duration of the wedding.”

“Got any plans for after the ceremony?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be having a nice quiet evening at home...” The guard lifted his eyes from the papers and gave Coco a polite grin. “...with my wife.”

Coco’s ears drooped. Up until the guard hit her with the W word, she was fully prepared to make her move by stating how she had never visited Canterlot before and would have loved somepony to show her around town.

“Ah.” She turned her head and rubbed her left foreleg with her right foreleg.

“Everything appears to be in order,” said the guard as he returned Coco’s documents. “Enjoy your stay in Canterlot, Miss Pommel.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m sure I’ll have a wonderful time.” She put away her papers and entered the castle. “...alone.


Coco walked down a long corridor which she was told led to the lounge where special guests were to wait until they were sent for by the bride and/or the groom. She looked up at the high ceilings with their intricately painted murals and tall marble columns and wondered how much it all cost.

When she entered the lounge, she saw a unicorn mare seated on a luxurious couch. On either side of that couch were two racks intended for hanging garment bags; the rack on the far end had one garment bag hanging from it. The mare smiled as she turned her head to look at Coco.

“Well, hel-lo there, Miss Pommel,” said the mare. “Long time no see.”

Coco recognized the mare. She wished she hadn’t.

“Hello, Suri,” said Coco with a frown.

“Fancy seeing you here, hun,” said Suri. “How’s life on the streets treating you?”

“I’m not living on the streets. I have an apartment and a job with the theater.”

“You don’t say? From what I hear, once Hinny of the Hills wraps up in another week, the theater will be undergoing some renovations that’ll take you off the payroll for at least four months. Sounds to me like you’ll be out of work until it’s finished.”

Coco flexed her jaw. Suri's intel was accurate. The theater was indeed going to be closed for a while and she didn't have a reliable source of income lined up. She would need to live off of her savings if she wanted to stay in her current apartment and she was hesitant to use that money since it was tucked away for moving expenses if her living situation ever called for her to move – which it did.

“You sure hear a lot about things that are none of your business,” said Coco.

“Well, you know how news travels in our little world. Still, I’m sure a resourceful young mare like you can find a way to make your landlord...” Suri held her hoof in front of her face and pushed her right cheek out with her tongue to simulate fellatio. “...happy... until you can start paying rent again.” Suri chuckled at her insinuation and waved her left forehoof dismissively. “Oh, look at me; I’m just terrible, aren’t I?”

Just keep your cool, Coco told herself. She’s just trying to push your buttons. The Blueblood account is just the first of many more breaks that will come my way.

“You could always come back to work for me, you know,” continued Suri. “Of course, with the way you quit on me, I’d have to start you on a lower salary.”

“Honestly, I think I’d rather be living on the streets than ever work for you again. You do remember honesty, don’t you? It’s right next to the other things you never use, like decency... and mouthwash.”

Suri chuckled amusedly.

“Oh, Coco, Coco, Coco,” said Suri with a grin that would give a fox pause. “However did we get off on the wrong hoof? C’mere, you adorable little moppet, you. I’ve missed you.” She tried to grab Coco in one of her trademark personal space-ignoring hugs but Coco stepped back, denying Suri the opportunity to embrace her. “Okay, I tried to make nice but if you’re set on being a pill, let’s just talk shop instead, all right? So! You got hired to make Blueblood’s tux, eh?”

“That’s right,” said Coco. “I came highly recommended by our mutual associate Rarity who was too busy to take the job herself. She and I are a lot alike. She believes in paying it forward.”

“Oh, that’s so cute, really it is... but guess who got commissioned to make Princess Whirling Dervish’s wedding dress?”

Coco’s eyes widened.

“I’ll give you a hint,” continued Suri. “It’s somepony way better at the fashion game than you – not that that narrows it down much. And here’s a little honesty for you: I wouldn’t have been able to hire you back even if I wanted to. The truth is I’m flat broke at the moment. Sales at Polomare Designs have been sporadic of late... and then, boom! I got the commission for the dress. It took every bit I had just to be able to afford the train ticket to come to Canterlot but once photos of the new bride appear in newspapers and magazines all over Equestria, all that sweet free publicity will send every mare of means flocking to Manehattan to buy my fabulous designs. After today, I’ll have it made in the shade while you might get, what, two... maybe three orders max from the tux you threw together? Face it, hun. I’m a winner and you’re a loser. I’ll admit that you have some talent but ultimately, with the exception of yours truly, nopony of importance has ever really wanted what you have to offer... and nopony ever will. Mkay?”

A burly Saddle Arabian guard entered the lounge.

“De Princess will see you now, Meess Polomare,” said the guard with a thick accent.

“That’s me.” Suri rose from the couch, levitated her garment bag, and trotted off to follow the guard. “Gotta run. See you back in Manehattan.” She stopped and turned back to face Coco. “Oh, and let me save you the trouble of asking me the question when we meet again: Yes, I would like my meal supersized. Mkay?” Suri chuckled at her barb and then sighed contentedly, apparently satisfied with herself, before leaving the lounge.

“Supersize this, bitch,” grumbled Coco, standing on her hind legs and grabbing her crotch with her right forehoof. “Eat it and weep.”

Coco sighed. She was alone now, a state in which she found herself more often than she cared to admit. She walked over to an ornate mirror on the far wall. She took a look at herself in it and smiled. She knew a winner when she saw one and she saw one looking back at her. So why was it so hard for others to see that? Life in the big city was everything she ever expected - with the exception of the loneliness. She had grown up with a loving family and hugs were an everyday occurrence. She had thrown herself into a number of relationships but they seldom lasted more than a month at a time and each one left her more despondent than the last. A one night stand would do wonders for her self-esteem but with her confidence shot, she doubted if she was still attractive to stallions.

“You there – common seamstress,” said a voice from the corridor. “Come here for a moment.”

Coco turned around and saw Prince Blueblood peering around the doorway. This was her first time meeting him. She had only been sent measurements from Canterlot tailors for the tuxedo she made for him. She approached him slowly, curious as to why he was being so secretive.

‘Common seamstress’?” asked Coco, raising an eyebrow. “I have a name, Your Highness.”

“Is it preceded by a title?”

‘Miss’.”

‘Miss’?” Blueblood snorted and snickered. “How impressive. Now, listen carefully. I understand that there’s a physical activity that couples engage in. I think it’s called stacks... or spats. Something like that. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

“Do you mean... sex?”

“Yes, that’s it,” he said. “Now, what is that, exactly?”