Please your words, do not mince - your problem is this coltcuddling prince!
Deep in the forest Everfree dwells a cottage betwixt the trees, liveth there a zebra mare who holds the answers that you need; dark and gloomy evermore the path that leads upon her door. One brave soul whom bears a scroll, sealed by sigil of royalty, a crimson wax that bears no cracks shrouds this message with secrecy. Steeling resolve for he must be bold amongst the terrors this forest holds, cautiously tapping his hoof a rapping upon that hefty oaken door. From inside whence comes a sound hoofsteps fall upon the ground, the hinges creak and bolts they groan a welcoming chorus unto her home. With ingress unto her home being made a wise mare’s face looms from the shade, shadows dance and candles flicker causing the messenger a fearful nicker, bowing her head she steps aside a welcoming hoof invites him inside. The still of night her voice soon breaks barely masking irritation the intrusion creates.
“The moon is high the hour late, what brings you here that cannot wait?”
A cloak concealing the messenger's face is soon lowered to reveal his race, a dash of dark and flash of white his stripes stand bold against the night. Into her home he swiftly strides grateful for the warmth inside.
Her face aghast her mouth agape at what she saw beneath his cape.
“A fellow of my kind long since have I seen, this surely is a surprise to me. Unless my eyes you do deceive a message soon I shall receive, pray tell what brings from distant land an envoy clearly Zebrican?”
Holding out the scroll aloft he clears his throat with a small cough,
“Lady Zecora a pleasure to meet locating you was no small feat. Your services our king requires hence the visit of this humble squire, a better witchdoctor no one can find and so requests your brilliant mind.”
A flick of the hoof is all it takes to break the seal the wax creates; unfurling the message and reading it well humming inquisitively at the tale it tells. Emotion she tries not to show but across her snout a small grin grows.
“A-hah, I see. A simple task for one like me. Some great care this will require so please return to tell our sire, in good time I will arrive and my services I shall provide.”
With a nod, a bow and no time to waste returning to his king with great haste; setting out into the night the messenger soon slips from sight. Closing the door alone once more a little giggle Zecora lets slip, thinking how much fun to be had on this trip. A little of this and a little of that, into her sack curious jars do neatly stack. With the Zebrican Kingdom so far away she must leave at the break of day, once satisfied that her packing’s complete into her bed she quick retreats.
Several suns rise and several suns set before Zecora completes her trek, arriving in her old home land – the savannah kingdom of Zebrican. A lush sprawling oasis verdant and green is where the capital palace is seen, towering spires of gleaming sandstone a fitting location for the Zebrican throne.
Welcomed by expectant guards they escort her through palace yards, the king awaits beyond the throne room gates for her the guards to deliver.
Once inside her eyes spread wide at the stallion who stands before her; for whilst her own eyes had never gazed upon the king, ‘twas not the mighty regal being of which old stories sing. The relentless march of years hath taken their toll on this mighty stallion once virile and bold, futilely disguised weakness under robes and gold before her a zebra frail and old. Barely able to stand he beckons her nearer so his glazed over eyes may attempt seeing her clearer.
His voice hoarse and shaky, barely more than susurration no longer one that compelled a nation.
“Zecora it pleases me to have you here as you no doubt see my time grows near, what I ask of you is no small deed but in order to peacefully go into Luna’s great night tis what I need. The story whole my letter could not tell, lest into the wrong hands it had fell. My lineage relies alone, on my son soon to take the throne; yet the prince has not produced an heir he is averse to bed a mare… a stallion atop him is what he desires, of course, I do not begrudge his passion’s fire but for the kingdom’s safety what I need is to see successors guaranteed.”
On those words Zecora did reflect, the king’s sincerity she could detect.
“Your highness, I understand why you ask but do not know if I should accept this task; interfering with matters of love would be an affront to the gods above!”
Her voiced carried notes of mild protest, this was not what she thought that letter did request. When asked to assist with the prince’s mating she had assumed a mare he was already dating.
“Zecora my dear you misunderstand I fear, I ask not that you force devotion or emotion, love should be cherished not forced to perish. But who says affection must be limited to one, perhaps a herd is the answer for my son?”
“Indeed a solution much more gratifying, why restrict love when sharings more satisfying? A herd is not so commonplace but not unheard of for our race, a guarantee I cannot make but his future I will try to shape. Do you have a mare in mind, surely a suitor is not hard to find?”
Slowly a wistful smile his mouth’s corners lead as knowingly the king shook his head.
“With that problem his own heart must struggle, all I desire is that it’s not just stallions he snuggles!”
A crescendo of gentle laughter the two of them shared, to Zecora it was obvious the king truly cared – he loved his son and that was what mattered but without further heirs the kingdom would shatter. ‘Twas a tale as old as the stars, struggle of duty versus the call of the heart.
“Very well your highness indeed I shall try, where is the prince now for I need to be sly? Some privacy in chambers I surely shall require, someone must keep him busy until for the night he’s ready to retire.”
“I have already arranged for him to be occupied as well as a guard to slip you inside, go now Zecora you must be fast time is of the essence with this task!”
From the throne room she was led guided to the prince’s bed, after a moment the guards departed leaving Zecora privacy to get started. This spacious chamber offered cool retreat from the intense savannah midday heat, silk curtains in the window danced with a soft breeze exactly what she needed to carry out her plan with ease.
Her pack contents she swiftly divided, time to make use of what she provided. Bottled essence of mare in heat would surely provide a scented treat, one to tease any stallion’s basic urges and sure to trigger lustful surges. Perhaps to appeal to the prince’s male desires a combined approach would be required, musk of stallion and fresh colt seed would perhaps provide the touch she needs. To one side they were placed as deftly she cleared a small work space, phials before her she did drop as a small brew she began to concoct. Aromatic herbs and heady oils mixed together then softly boiled, a gentle sniff down her spine sent a shiver it would surely make this stallion quiver. To open the mind and relax inhibition this sweet scented potion should achieve that mission, on the window ledge placing a small oil burner allowing the breeze to carry its intoxicating aura further.
The sun sinking low into the sky to meet with the prince the time drew nigh, satisfied preparations were complete Zecora paused to admire her feat – the room was laid the mood was set, against the dusk candles leapt; sunset bathed the room in amber glow the stage now ripe for Zecora’s show. One final ingredient for this plot’s success, for this part Zecora began to dress; to unleash the prince’s full potential a seductive mare would be essential. Shimmering bangles of gold she did adorn as silk harem robes clung to her form, flowing with her voluptuous curves any stallion’s senses it would surely serve. One last measure for the prince’s pleasure essence of mare, just a touch, and a stallion’s musk but not too much – a dab of each under her dock should be enough to entice his cock.
Key in lock caused perking ear this surely meant the prince was near, into the room he boldly strode a look of shock his face foretold. Before her stood a zebra most imposing dressed in his finest regal clothing, with tight cropped mane as black as midnight hour and muscles rippling with masculine power. With a sharp rasp his sabre drew, whilst in his eyes the anger grew.
“Intruder I witness in my room, speak swiftly lest this be your tomb!”
To the prince Zecora faced and sultrily began to pace, lowering her neck in a bow the time to act upon her now. Speaking softly with seductive pout, her eyes locked deep within his throughout.
“Your highness prince Konin at last I meet, for my eyes you do provide a treat. Fear not my prince for I mean you no harm, quite the opposite in fact I’m here to charm. Please do come in and take a seat, your company I’d like to keep.”
Whilst not intense the sweet incense throughout the air had steeped, the prince’s sword crashed to the floor as into his mind it creeped.
“Very well though this is rare, to find in my chambers is a mare. A mystery you appear to be, you have not yet revealed your name and tell me now what is this game? My father’s interference I surely detect, so what is it he interjects?”
Closer Zecora moved so his cloak she could remove, slipping the garment to the floor she gazed upon his physique once more – an impressive specimen to behold and one she’d enjoy if truth be told. Leaning in close to give his shoulder a nuzzle she flickered her tail just under his muzzle; dispersing the placed scents on his senses to assail, resisting his instincts would be to little avail! Trotting back round with an elegant flow, swaying her hips for a bit of a show, the prince had adopted a more relaxed stance almost resembling someone in a trance. An onslaught of aromas had his senses compelled, a little more work and Konin would be truly under her spell.
“Ah my prince the truth you can see your father did indeed send me, in order for you to sire an heir you need to learn to breed a mare and whilst this may seem quite absurd your father suggests you start a herd. Some liberties I had to take in order for your mind to make, I do regret it’s come to this but without future heirs the kingdom surely will be remiss! My name is Zecora and for tonight I plan to teach you to treat a mare right… though from here what I already see perhaps so hard it will not be!”
The prince’s mood she could already tell as between hind legs his sheath did swell, a true testament that her potion worked this gleaming shaft of ebony semi-perked.
“Now let’s get the easy one out of the way, so for the main even much longer we’ll play…”
Beside him once more before laying under his hips her tongue flickered out to moisten her lips, a gentle kiss on his shaft she placed as waves of arousal through her body raced, her fair share of stallions she had bed but never a royal thoroughbred. Grinding her tongue against his tip as she took his cock between her lips, wrapping her hooves around the base and stroking with a gentle pace. Swiftly becoming fully erect she took a moment for her handiwork to inspect, a fine pillar of manhood there could be no doubt one that would fill her well throughout. Running her tongue from sheath to tip administering a teasing lick, soon after opening her mouth wide and taking his length deep inside, beginning to suckle and caress his throbbing needy maleness. The prince’s sweet pre-cum she soon could taste as Zecora began to increase her pace. With copious saliva his shaft she did coat before taking his head to the back of her throat; into her gullet his cock she swallowed, for the prince wet rippling throat muscles divine sensation followed. A bulge in her neck signalled the growth of his flare, withdrawing his shaft from her throat for a short breath of air; with near perfect timing his shaft throbbed in her muzzle triggering a thick burst of semen for Zecora to guzzle. Thick salty cream with a mild bitter taste plastered her throat, her snout and her face. Without giving him a chance to grow soft, Zecora quickly faced him with tail aloft; an inviting wink her dripping slit announced, she was ready for mounting, and the prince soon pounced.
Her passion yearning and pussy burning Zecora lifts her hips to meet his tip and guiding to her nether lips, a slick mixture of their juices combined to ease the prince’s manhood inside. Zecora gave a little hiss, not one of pain but one of bliss, after all this work what she needed was a thorough rutting to be well breeded. Around his girth her pussy spread as her chest and face sunk to the bed, starting with a little thrust so began their mating lust, steadily deeper his cock descended til finally his shaft had ended, his balls slapping lightly on her rump signalled his entire length was sunk. The flexing shaft deep inside forced from her lips a loud passion cried; steadily the prince withdrew just an inch or perhaps two, before hilting in her deep once more.
Of thrusts Konin began a steady pace a look of euphoria across his face, any reluctance to fucking a mare had disappeared without a care; his mind perhaps clouded though it mattered not – as his hips slapped against Zecora’s striped firm plot, the warm wet delight of a mare so tight had banished such thoughts deep from sight.
The slick walls of her marehood grew tight clenching down with all her might, from her lips sweet juices flow drenching, or ruining, the bedsheets below; intense orgasm racked her mind as her body shivered in bliss divine.
“My sweet prince I must implore I can’t take this anymore, your seed I need to quench this fire I beg of you… please… cum in me sire!”
No sooner has those words passed her lips, Konin frantically began to thrust his hips; a sense of rhythm he could not find with just one thought inside his mind – a building urge to release his seed with rushing surge. Biting down hard on Zecora’s mane as he pummelled his hips in deep again, of his lust she bore the brunt as his flare erupted inside her cunt, thick jets of cum delivered far within soothing her flame most feminine. As his softening shaft withdrew from her presence, from her well used pussy leaked his essence.
Amongst the sticky mess they’d made the pair of zebras quietly laid, in blissful silence the couple did rest amongst the prince’s regal nest. Moonlight bathed the pair below as they relaxed in afterglow, a silent smirk she as she could tell – in the morning they’d try this again without her spell.