Chapters The Amorous Misadventures of Prince Blueblood
Prince Blueblood awoke that morning with a feeling of satisfaction as he nestled his face against his companion's warm, tender breasts. “You are quite the woman, aren't you?” he mumbled as he stretched in the small wooden bed they shared.
The sunlight from the early morning was just beginning to peep its way through the veiled curtains over the window. “Blasted inconvenience,” he said, getting up. “Why must the start of the day come so early?”
He moved over to where he had thrown his boots the previous night and started to put them on. He struggled to push his foot in, trying not make a sound as he did so. “Come on...come on...”
Finally, he was able slide it in, but not before bumping into the shelf on the wall, which caused an audible crack to echo through the house. Blueblood cursed under his breath.
It was then that the still sleeping lady on the bed, began to awaken from her slumber. “Blueblood? Where are you going?”
Blueblood hurried to gather the rest of his clothing which lay scattered, helter-skelter all over the room.
“I'm sorry, my sweet, I didn't mean to wake you,” he said, putting on his shirt.
“Are you leaving? So soon?” she asked.
“Well...”
That's when the door flung open and a man in his late thirties walked in. “Honey, I got home early...and who the hell is this!?”
The woman shot upright in her bed. “It's not what it looks like!”
“Who is this in our bedroom!?”
By this time, Blueblood had hastily put on rest of his garments and was reaching for his coat. “Look, good sir,” he said, moving towards him, “I can explain. Your wife here...”
“Not another step!” he cried, drawing his rapier from its sheath. “You!” he said, pointing the tip of the blade to his wife. “Who is he?”
“Please dear, calm down,” she said, covering her bareness with the covers. “There's a simple explanation if you'll give me a chance.”
“No explanations! Tell me why he is in here or I swear, I'll run you both through!”
“Ha ha! Not quite!” Blueblood said, producing his own rapier.
The man turned to his wife, rage writhing on his face. “So this is how you repay me? By sleeping around on me while I go out of town?”
“It's not like that!” she screamed.
“I should have known better than to marry a filthy whore like you!”
“Uh-uh,” Blueblood said, taping his rapier's blade. “Don't insult the lady's honor, or you'll force me to defend it.”
“This is my wife!” the man cried. “And who the hell do you think you are?”
Blueblood smiled as he looked him straight in the eyes. “I am the mystery of the ages, that unknowable, untouchable spirit that has roamed the Earth since the beginning of time. Born to satisfy oppressed women everywhere, I am the curse of hapless marriages, the terror of unfulfilled love, and the defiler of innocence. I am Prince Blueblood.”
“Villain!” the man yelled, “I'll teach you some respect for another person's marriage!”
The man swung his blade at Blueblood's, hitting it several times, causing sparks to fly in all directions.
He tried to attack the Prince again, thrusting his sword towards him, but missed, causing it to become lodged in the wall. Blueblood immediately raced by him as he tried to retrieve his weapon and climbed out the window, onto the terraced roof beyond.
“Come back here, you cur!” the man called, chasing after him. “I'm not done with you yet!”
“That's exactly what your wife said last night!”
They exchanged more of blows as they balanced themselves on the narrow on the narrow boards that linked the house to the one next to it.
“Give it up, sir!” Blueblood said extending his arms, leaving himself wide-open. “I have you beat!”
The man rushed forwards, his blade leading the way, eager to finish off his insolent adversary. At the last moment, though, Blueblood turned his body so that the sword narrowly missed him, which caused the man to go flying through the air. The man then plunged off the roof and landed in a pile of straw that lay in the alley below.
When the man recovered himself off and looked up, and he saw the figure of Blueblood standing loftily over him, atop his roof. “I told you sir! I had you beat!”
“You won't get away with this!” the man cried, waving his blade in the air.
“Oh, but I have sir!” he said, strolling to the other roof. “And now I must bid you adieu! And be sure to give my compliment to your wife!” He bowed facetiously and proceeded to take his leave.
~
In another part of Canterlot, a young servant of around twenty or so sat on a bench in a vacant courtyard in one of the city's nicer neighborhoods. His black hair glistened in the early morning sunlight as he held his violin on his neck, plucking the strings as he tuned them.
He hummed out the note, trying to replicate it as he turned one of the instrument's pegs, when a little bird came and perched itself on the scroll. The servant smiled as the bird tweeted happily.
“Aww, well aren't you cute?”
The bird tweeted again before pecking one of his fingers. “Ow! Why you little!”
The bird fluttered away in an instant and rejoined his companions singly happily on the clothes line above.
“Hey!” he shouted, getting up and waving his hands at them. “Why don't you come down here, huh? You know what that feels like? It hurts!”
The birds responded in a cacophony of tweeting, almost, he could have sworn, in the form of laughter.
“Yeah! You stay up there! Next time, I'll smash your eggs and-”
The servant was interrupted by a cascade of white droppings that descended from above on his face.
At that moment, Blueblood rounded the corner and witnessed the strange sight. He laughed heartily as the servant tried to climb the arbor to reach the birds above.
“Fighting with birds at this time of day, Giovanni?”
“That little bastard pecked my finger!” he exclaimed.
Blueblood laughed some more at his plight.
“It's not funny!” Giovanni cried.
“Oh no, not at all,” Blueblood snickered. “Forgive me. I didn't realize the nature of the offense.”
At last the servant yielded the fight and descended from where he had climbed atop the arbor. “And where were you last night?” he asked.
“You know,” Blueblood replied.
“Oh, I see,” Giovanni said. “And what privileged lady was it this time?”
“The Countess of...something or another, I can't remember now. Met her at a party last night that they were holding at one of those fancy get-togethers they host so often. She was looking very lonely, so I obliged the Lady with my company that evening.”
“Did she enjoy it, at least?”
“She did,” Blueblood said, leaning against the wall, “but her husband didn't.”
“Then I suspect that you made your escape in the manner you always do, but judging from your appearance, I'd say he wasn't too pleased about finding you in his wife's bed.”
“Well, I wasn't in the bed when he found me, if that means anything.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, the fool was so enraged he could barely see straight.”
“Be thankful for that. One day, master, you're not going to be so lucky.”
“Nonsense! With my quick wits and reflexes, who needs luck? Besides, fortune favors the bold!”
“Just try to be careful – you've already been caught twice this month. Don't you think the Princesses might find out?”
“Not a chance. And even if they did, how can Auntie ever stay mad at me? I'm her favorite nephew, after all.”
“Some might say that's the only reason you can get away with all this,” Giovanni muttered underneath his breath.
“What was that?” Blueblood asked.
“Nothing, master. I was just noting how word of your feats is starting to be whispered around town.”
“Well, that doesn't really bother me. There's not a single woman in Canterlot who I couldn't seduce and I want everyone to know it.”
“If you say so...” Giovanni said.
“Well, now that's out of the way, what's for breakfast? I'm starving!”
Blueblood made his way past Giovanni and entered into his apartment, which lay at the opposite end of the street.
“The usual, sir,” Giovanni said, following him.
“I hope you didn't fix any of that porridge,” Blueblood said, walking into the dining room. “You know how much I loathe porridge.”
“No, sir, just a fresh serving of fruits and vegetables,” he said removing the lid from the plate.
“Good,” Blueblood said looking over the fine assortment of food. “A high energy meal is exactly what I need for tonight.”
Giovanni rolled his eyes. “The usual antics, sir?”
“No, not this time,” Blueblood said as he helped himself to an orange. “I'm going to be doing something different tonight – something that requires your help.”
“Oh?” Giovanni asked, raising his eyebrow. “And what exactly do you need me for?”
“You will see,” he replied, peeling a grape, “but I can tell you, it will be one of my most daring feats yet.”
“I hesitate to ask, but what exactly do you have in mind?”
Blueblood smirked. “Well, since you're curious, I'll give you a hint – it involves my Auntie.”
“No...” Giovanni said, gasping. “No! With your own Aunt?”
“Not that, you fool!” he exclaimed. “What kind of person do you think I am?”
“That's a good question...” Giovanni mumbled.
“No, it involves something a little more harder to obtain than that,” Blueblood said. “What I had in mind is much more valuable.”
“You're going to take something?”
“Yes,” he said, taking a bite out of a banana. “but not what you might expect.”
“Please, I'm dying to know,” Giovanni said, with more than a hint of sarcasm.
“I'm going to steal a pair of Aunt Celly's panties.”
Giovanni stared blank-faced at his master before sputtering into a fit of giggles which soon turned into full-blown laughter. He guffawed at the notion for several minutes, while Blueblood casually continued to eat his breakfast.
“Done?” Blueblood asked as he neared the end of mirth.
“You...you...” he said, trying to regain his breath. “You can't be serious!”
“I am serious,” Blueblood said, wiping his mouth.
“But why?” Giovanni asked. “Why would you even consider something like that?”
“That's very simple,” Blueblood said, getting up. “The fame, of course. Who else could ever claim to have so rare and precious a treasure? A pair of Auntie's panties will solidify my reputation as a god among men throughout all of Equestria.”
“And how do you ever plan on accomplishing this?”
“I'm glad you asked,” Blueblood said, smiling.
“I already regret I did.”
“Tonight, you and I shall sneak into the palace grounds with a ladder. With it, I'll be able to scale the walls and make my way into Auntie's bedroom, where I shall retrieve a pair of her panties.”
“Wait...she's the Princess of the Sun. Won't that mean she'll be sleeping then? Why not do it during the day when she's not in her room?”
“Because during the day everyone can see us.”
“I don't know...this all seems pretty risky.”
“The greater the risk, the greater the reward! After all, fortune favors-”
“The bold, yes, you've said that already.”
“Right, then I can count on your help?”
“I probably shouldn't, but knowing you, you'll probably get yourself into some situation where you'll need my help.”
“Good, then we prepare for tonight!” he said as he walking out the door. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"
Author's Note
May or may not continue this, as this was basically done on a whim.
The Amorous Misadventures of Prince Blueblood
It was quiet that evening in Canterlot – or at least, that's what Giovanni thought as he walked beside his master on their way to the palace. He was so accustomed to the noise and commotion of the regular city streets that the serenity of the Royal Estate, with its manicured meadows and well-kept gardens, came as a great surprise to him.
“Is it always this peaceful?” he asked.
Blueblood smirked as he swaggered with his hand upon the hilt of his sword. “Why yes,” he said, “Auntie always like to keep it this way. Gives her a chance to meditate, or whatever she does.”
“Your aunt seems like a very sensible person.”
“Yes, she does like to cultivate this persona of civility,” he said, twirling his hands in front of him. “Actually, come to think of it, she's probably the most boring person I've ever met. No fun at all, with her.”
“So why is it so important to get a pair of her...” Giovanni cleared his throat, “...undergarments.”
“Because, dear Giovanni, it is the nature of her regal status.”
He shook his head. “I don't follow...”
“ Auntie is a very chaste woman – a fact that, she herself, takes great pride. To obtain a pair of panties, a symbol of her chastity, would make me the greatest of all men.”
“So you keep saying...”
“So I know, Giovanni! So I know!”
The servant sighed as he saw the palace walls approaching in the distance. “I still don't understand how we're going to get in. Weren't we going to use a ladder?”
“Nonsense! A ladder? Are you mad? We'd never be able to reach her window!”
“You're the one who suggested we use it!”
“Did I? I don't recall. But there's no way that I will ever be seen climbing a ladder. What would people think if they saw me? They might mistake me for a common window-cleaner! Prince Blueblood, the window cleaner? The absurdity of it all!”
“No, they might just think you were a rogue – someone whose objectives make a little more sense than a prince wishing to steal his aunt's panties.”
“At least a rogue would have the decency to use the stairs – which is what I will be using.”
“You've still not explained how we're suppose to get in.”
“Why, that's simple Giovanni – we'll use the servant's entrance.”
“Oh, well, that makes sense.”
“Yes, and from there we shall sneak our way into the palace and-”
“Halt!”
A guard emerged from behind a tree, producing his spear as he shone a lantern on the two companions.
“Who goes there?”
“Good evening, my fine sir,” Blueblood said bowing. “I was wondering if you could show me to the servant's entrance?”
“What for?” the guard asked gruffly.
“Well, you see,” he said as he grabbed Giovanni's arm, “I found this cheeky servant here running around the premises unsupervised. I thought I would hand him back over to the proper authorities.”
The guard turned to Giovanni, clearly annoyed. “And what were you doing out after dark?” the guard asked him. “Don't you know that there is a curfew for all servants.”
Giovanni tried to form a reply, but was interrupted before he could do so.
“Oh I'm sure he meant nothing by it,” Blueblood replied casually, “Though he does seem a tad insolent – you might want to beat him around a little.”
“He'll be duly punished, sir,” the guard said, nodding. “Though I might ask, what were you yourself doing here on the Royal Grounds?”
“Oh, yes, well, um, I was, uh...pruning. Yes, that's it! I was pruning. Pruning the the crab-trees, and all that.”
“Oh,” the guard said, shrugging. “Well that seems reasonable. Carry on, then.”
“Yes, and the same to you good sir,”
“But, but, but-” Giovanni sputtered.
“Quiet you!” the guard yelled as he yanked him.
They turned to leave before the guard reared his head in thought. “Wait a second,” he wondered aloud. “You're pruning crab-trees at night?” the guard asked, turning back to him. “Crab-trees aren't even in season!”
“Did I say crab-trees?” Blueblood asked, laughing slightly. “I meant the hedges.”
“Oh, never mind then,” the guard said, turning to leave once again. “But hold on...” he said, stopping. “You shouldn't be pruning at night anyways!”
“No, I assure you, those were my orders,” Blueblood said.
“Orders? From who? Let me see them!”
“Oh, well, let me find them...”
Blueblood fumbled around his coat pockets, trying to find the nonexistent papers which the guard wished to see.
“Imagine that,” Blueblood said, “It seems I've lost them.”
“Uh-huh, likely story,” the guard said. “You're coming with me – both of you!”
“Look here, good sir, there's a perfectly reasonable-”
“Shut it!” the guard growled. “The lash is the punishment for trespassing on the Royal Grounds! Now move!” he yelled, pointing his spear at them.
The two of them complied with his commands, and started walking to the palace gate, whose lights could be seen flickering in the darkness a little distance away.
“Great, look at what you've done,” Giovanni seethed under his breath. “Now they're going to flog us!”
“I know it looks bleak,,” Blueblood whispered back, “but I have a plan.”
Giovanni rolled his eyes.
“You always do...”
The guard escorted them to the gate and then past the sentries who stood guard in front of the drawbridge. They were then guided through the winding maze of buildings until they reached the Royal Barracks, where they were both thrown into a small, dingy cell that was fitted with cast-iron bars.
“You wait here,” the guard commanded as he locked their cell door. “I'll be back shortly.”
The guard about-faced, slamming the door shut behind him as he walked back into the night.
“Bravo!” Giovanni exclaimed, clapping. “And now we are locked in prison! Wonderful! No doubt, besides the whipping, that brute has a wonderful evening planned for us, too!”
“He is an unsavory fellow, isn't he?” Blueblood asked, dusting himself off.
“That's probably putting it mildly,” Giovanni said.
“Well, Auntie needs the best security she can afford – it's only too bad she can only afford the dregs of Equestrian society.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the guards are nothing but a bunch of contemptible commoners,” he said.
“I thought the guards would have been made up of nobles...”
“You would think that,” Blueblood replied, going over to the bars, “But they're not. In truth, they're really just a bunch of ruthless criminals and cut-throats who find gainful employment through the patronage of through their generous benefactor.”
“So wait...” Giovanni said, arching his eyebrow, “If they are just a bunch of criminals, what keeps them from turning on their employers?”
“Money, of course,” Blueblood said, removing a needle from sleeve. “Their merits, though crude, are purchased by the largess of the royal coffers at the end of each month.”
“Seems like you could find better soldiers for a better price than those scoundrels,” Giovanni scoffed.
“They are the scum of the earth,” Blueblood continued, picking the lock, “and none too bright, as you witnessed, but they do carry out their duty reasonably well. Fortunately,” he said, pushing open the last tumbler. causing the door the spring open, “I have no intention of being whipped today.”
Giovanni stood in amazement as his master waltzed out of the jail-cell, after having been thrown in only moments earlier.
“How did you...?”
“Lock-pick,” he replied,sliding the needle back into his sleeve. “Definitely comes in handy.”
“Well...” Giovanni said, walking out of the cell. “I stand in awe of your skills.”
“Have a little faith, Giovanni,” Blueblood said, patting his cheek.
“I do, but-”
At that moment, the sound of voices echoed from outside the prison.
“Get down!” Blueblood whispered, motioning for him to move towards the wall.
They both knelt down by the door, hiding themselves in the shadows as the familiar clank of armor approached them. With a silent thud, the door to the barracks creaked opened as the guard entered once again.
As he adjusted to the light, he noticed that there were no prisoners in the jail-cell.
“Hey, where did they-”
He was immediately silenced by a punch, square to the face, which knocked him out and sent him reeling to the floor.
“Well, that was easy,” Giovanni said, shaking his hand.
“Throw him in there,” Blueblood commanded, motioning to the open cell. “And gag him too, while you're at it.”
They stripped the guard of his golden armor and tossed him into the cell, but not before they bound and gagged him with pieces cloth and some discarded rope they found in the barracks.
“There,” Giovanni said, finishing the knot, “That should hold him. So what do we do now?”
Blueblood thought a moment as he looked around. “Aha! Here, you put on his armor. Then you'll escort me to Royal Quarters, where I shall proceed to procure a pair of Aunt Celly's panties.”
“Are you sure that's a bright idea? What if someone stops us?”
“Then do what a guard would,” Blueblood replied. “Say you're on royal business, or something like that – just act official.”
“I don't know...”
“Just do as I say! Or would you rather wait for him to wake up?” he asked, pointing to the unconscious guard in the cell. “Because I don't think he's going to happy when he comes around.”
Giovanni sighed. “Yes...I guess you're right. Here, let me put it on.”
He spent the next minutes putting on the guard's armor, lacing up the leather straps as he adjusted the plates on his body.
“There,” he said, moving his arm around, the armor clunking as he did so, “I think I got it.”
“Good,” Blueblood said, heading for the door, “Then let's go. Do you know where the Royal Quarters are?”
“I'm afraid I don't, master,” he said, shaking his head.
Blueblood groaned. “Fine, then I'll lead the way. Just try to make it seem like I'm your prisoner.”
“I'll try,” Giovanni said, “But I make no guarantees.”
The two of them proceeded from the barracks, Prince Blueblood leading the way, as they traveled to the opposite end of the palace, through the endless labyrinth of buildings.
Along the way, they bumped into several guards, coming and going, all of who, far from trying to stop them, seemed to not pay them any mind, whatsoever.
“That's strange,” Giovanni whispered. “Why aren't they stopping us?”
“Why should they?” Blueblood replied, “Just mind your own business and they'll do the same.”
When at last they reached the Royal Quarters, they paused by a tall willow tree, overlooking a shady pond that lay beneath the window of Celestia's bedroom.
“You wait here,” Blueblood said, “I'll go and get what I need and be back shortly.”
“How soon is shortly?”
“No more than ten minutes, at the most,” he said, looking around.
“And what do I do if someone approaches me?”
“I don't know – I'm sure you'll think of something.”
“But-”
“I won't be long!” Blueblood said as he ran to the other end of the courtyard and entered the open passageway on the other side.
The Prince tentatively, if not instinctively, ascended the marble staircase, making sure he made as little noise as possible approached his aunt's bedchamber, which lay on the floor above him. Softly, ever so softly, he climbed the steps as he had done so many times in the past.
Blueblood couldn't help, in fact, to feel a vague sense of familiarity as he made his way through the gilded halls of the palace. On any other occasion, he would have taken this same way to visit to his aunt and be entertained in her lavish apartment. If that were the case, he would have allowed his mind to wander and gaze at the strange and ancient paintings that lay here and there and admire the splendor of it all, but now he had to keep his mind focused – his destiny hung in the balance.
Near the end of hallway was her door. It was a tall, majestic stone edifice with the Princesses' personal coat of arms carved into its face.
He slowly laid his hand on the golden handle and pressed his face to the door. Inside, he could hear the faint sounds of snoring.
Excellent.
The Prince gently pushed down on the latch and opened the door, trying as hard as he could to keep it from creaking as he entered the room. Then, walking on the tips of his toes, he turned around and shut the door as quietly as he had opened it.
When this was done, he peered into the darkness to see what he could make out in the confines of the bedchamber.
On the far side of the room, the dying embers of the fire smoldered in the burnt out ruins of logs, flitting their faint shadows eerily on the the opposite wall, where the Princess lay peacefully dreaming.
Blueblood scanned the room until he spied the dresser, which lay next to the bed.
Bingo.
He crossed the rug, past the bed, to the dresser and opened the first drawer – stockings. He silently closed it and opened the second – bras. “It must be this one then,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled the third one open to reveal a vast assortment of panties, of every kind and color, all folded and tucked away neatly into rows.
For a moment, he stood there solemnly in front of the wardrobe door, gazing at the collection of undergarments like some ancient treasure he had discovered. As he swayed in reverence for the precious riches lying before him, a single question emerged in his mind – which one to choose?
There were so many to be had, yet so few to take. Which one would possibly suffice?
He looked through arrangement, sorting through the rows like one sorted through files in an office drawer, yet, finding not one that warranted more attention than the others, was forced to concede defeat and bow his head in indecision – until his eye caught the figure of his sleeping aunt, bundled underneath her silken sheets.
A curious notion suddenly overtook him, and he wondered, hovering over her, if, underneath that mass of covers, was she wearing a pair of panties, or did she prefer to sleep in the nude?
There was only one to find out.
He painstakingly grasped the seam of the covers between his fingers, and, carefully began to pull them off, until her entire body was revealed.
She was beautiful.
Although, much to Prince Blueblood's disappointment, was cloaked in an evening gown. Still, with her splendid curves and voluptuous breasts, she was quite the sight.
“My, my, Auntie, you've put on some pounds since we last talked,” he whispered to himself. “I love it.”
He delicately traced his hand over her pale skin, feeling its soft texture as he became enraptured with his aunt's breathtaking allure.
He was so consumed that he almost forgot the original reason he had come there that night. Though, at the last moment, he was awoken from his brief hypnosis, and remembered the origin of his intent.
“It's the ultimate prize...” he murmured as he turned up the Princess' dress to reveal a white pair of cotton panties hugging her thighs.
Blueblood's eye twitched as he gazed at what his heart truly desired. He was suddenly overtaken by a burning desire to snatch them immediately, which he resisted, but with great restraint.
“Is it worth it?”
He bit his lip as he pondered that question. He had come too far to give up now. And now that he had, nothing less would suffice. He decided, at last, that he have that pair, or he would always regret this night.
He cautiously reached up the Princess' hips, until both of his hands were on his panties. He checked once more to see if he had disturbed her from her sleep. When he saw he hadn't, he gently began to tug and wrangle them until at last he managed to pull them below her hips, revealing her regal womanhood.
At that moment, Celestia groaned, which caused Blueblood to recoil. He waited a moment on bated breath as she tossed a bit, rocking back and forth. When he was sure her turning had ended, he moved back, eager to finish what he had started.
Though, as he reached for his Aunt's panties, he could not help but notice her large and protruding intimacy.
For a moment, the temptation to touch it raged fiercely within Blueblood's mind. Yet there was something holding him back.
It was one thing, he knew, to steal her panties – a completely different one, to go so far as to pleasure his aunt while she slept. He would committing incest, and he weighed the worth of crossing that line.
He debated it in his mind, until, at length, he decided it against it. Her panties would be sufficient consolation enough for the effort he had expended this night. And maybe this way, he thought, he could still look into his Aunt's eyes again with some shred of dignity.
He continued to work them off a little bit at a time, until at last he he removed them from around her ankles. With his prize in his hand, he gently made his way towards the door on the other side of the room.
But just as he laid his hand on the latch, however, a matronly voice called behind him.
“And where do you think you're going?”
The Amorous Misadventures of Prince Blueblood
“Leaving so soon?” the voice asked.
The Prince froze where he stood, paralyzed between freedom and disgrace, his hand still on the latch.
With a sigh of resignation, he turned to face his aunt, who by this time, was standing by her bed-side.
“Hand them over,” she commanded, motioning to him.
Blueblood hesitantly moved toward her and placed the panties back into her soft hand.
“Thank you,” she said politely, almost as if receiving a gift.
“Aunty, I...”
“Not another word,” she said, putting them back on. “It's clear to me what the object of your intent was. And I must say, nephew, I'm very disappointed.”
Blueblood hung his head down on his shoulders. He always hated being chastised, especially by his aunt. It made him feel lower than the dirt itself.
“What in the world were you thinking?” Celestia asked. “Barging in here in the middle of the night and doing something like this?”
“That I wouldn't get caught?” Blueblood said, smiling sheepishly.
“Of course,” Celestia replied, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, nephew, I've heard of your antics, but this? This is a bit much, don't you think?”
“Oh...you've heard about those?”
“'Who hasn't?' is a better question,” the Princess remarked. “But really now, did you honestly think I wouldn't find out, sooner or later?”
“I really didn't think about,” Blueblood admitted, shrugging.
Celestia sighed.
“You are a naughty boy, Blueblood – I knew that ever since I first caught you playing doctor with the servant's daughters in the nursery when you were younger. And over the years, I've seen you become more and more wanton. I don't deny my own fault in it. I'm partly to blame. I stood by and tolerated these childish acts, thinking that you would eventually shape up and become a mature and responsible adult. Well...I was wrong.
“Now I find you sneaking into my royal bed-chamber during the dead of night, rummaging through my dresser, and then attempting to steal a pair of my undergarments off me as I slept. It's just too much! You've gone too far this time. You'll have to be punished.”
Celestia stretched as she turned around and sat on her bed.
“Come,” she commanded.
“Aunty, please, decency...” Blueblood pleaded.
“You're one to talk of decency, nephew," she scoffed. "Running around the city, sleeping with nobleman's wives and daughters like a common rake, and now you object on the grounds of decency?”
“Aunty, I beg you, this is wrong...”
Celestia laughed.
“Lucky for you, I am not so depraved as yourself, nephew. No, I have something else in mind.”
Blueblood sighed in momentary relief as the Princess looked him over, pondering about what his fate should be.
At last, the Princess arose from her bed and made her way to her desk, which lay next to the fireplace on the other side of the room. She sat down at the wooden chair and produced a piece of paper from the drawer.
“I'm going to send you away, nephew,” she said, dipping her quill in the ink fountain.
“What?” Blueblood asked, with a look of disbelief. “You mean, banishment?”
“Not banishment,” Celestia said, scribbling on the paper. “Think of it more as a holiday.”
“Well, a holiday sounds nice,” Blueblood replied.
“Only, you're not allowed to come back,” Celestia continued, not missing a beat.
“What's the meaning of this, then? Sending me away and not allowing me to come back? Sounds like banishment to me!”
“Well, it's not, nephew, and hopefully you'll be a better person because of it,” she said, sprinkling the fresh ink with sand.
“So where are you sending me then, eh? Out in the middle of a desert? A little island out in the sea? The moon, perhaps?”
“Ponyville,” she replied, lighting a wax candle.
“Never heard of it,” Blueblood replied.
“I have a student who lives there,” Celestia said, applying her seal to the letter. “She studies magic. I get her to write reports for me every so often on what she's learned. I'm assigning her the task of reforming you.”
“And if I refuse to be reformed?”
“Then I cut off your allowance,” Celestia replied coldly.
Blueblood pursed his lips.
“You drive a hard bargain, Aunty. So where is this Ponyville? And who is this student of yours?”
Celestia made her way to a map that lay on the wall a little distance away. In the center, an elaborately drawn picture of the city lay with it's name: CANTERLOT, written underneath.
“It's here,” Celestia said, pointing to a remote dot of the map, a little ways away from the capital.
“Seems like a quaint little village. And who will I being staying with during my exile?” Blueblood asked.
“Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia replied, snapping her fingers, causing the letter to be consumed in fire and sent to its recipient. “She's the student I mentioned. She runs the library there. She will teach you how to be a proper gentleman.”
“A librarian, huh? Maybe I could teach her a few things I know, too...”
“Don't even think about it!” Celestia snapped. “I've given her strict instructions about how she is to deal with you. One move out of line and she's authorized to send you back here for punishment – which I promise you, will be quite severe. Do you understand, nephew?”
“Perfectly, Aunty,” he replied.
“Good, then I expect you to follow her instructions to the letter, and maybe, just maybe, you'll come out as an upstanding Prince, instead of the mischievous reprobate you are now.”
“No promises,” Blueblood said, smiling slyly.
Celestia sighed.
“Do try, at least, nephew. Remember, I'm doing this out of love, and because I believe everyone should be given a second chance.”
Blueblood straightened himself. “I'll try, Aunty.”
“That's all I ask. Now...” she said, her voice softening as she opened her arms, “Give us a hug before you go on your way.”
Blueblood hugged his aunt, reveling in her embrace as he felt her warm breasts rub against his cheeks.
“When do I leave, then?” Blueblood asked, still holding her.
“In three days,” Celestia replied, petting his head. “That should enough time for you to pack your belongings and be on your way.”
“Very well, then,” Blueblood said, pulling away. “Three days it is. Though I don't look forward to it.”
“Have a good trip, then, at least,” Celestia said.
“I'll try,” Blueblood replied, making his way to the door.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Celestia said.
“Yes, Aunty?” he asked, turning around.
“If the previously mentioned incentives are not enough to convince you to change, then how about this – if you manage to demonstrate, really and truly that you've changed...” Celestia spread her legs, revealing the panties the Prince had just earlier taken off, “I'll give you these as a reward.”
Blueblood smirked. “You really do know me better than I do myself, don't you, Aunty?”
“To a letter,” she replied, smiling.
“I shall keep that in mind, then,” Blueblood said. “But now, I must kindly bid you adieu. It seems I have a lot of packing to do now...”
“Farewell, nephew,” Celestia called as he exited the room, shutting the door behind him.“Hopefully my efforts won't be in vain...”
~
In front of the Royal Quarters, Giovanni sat idling by the willow tree. He leaned on one of its ancient branches as he tapped his foot anxiously in the sod. “Come on,” he whispered, “Where could he be?”
A good twenty minutes, he was sure, had passed since he master had entered the castle – yet he was nowhere to be seen.
“He must have gotten himself into some trouble...again.”
Giovanni groaned.
“I don't know why I put up with this,” he said, kicking a rock into the pond. “All I ever do is keep his house, cook his food, make his bed, and now, keep guard, while he has his way with the ladies. Well, you know what? One day I will be the master!” he said, protruding his chest. “Yeah, that will show him.”
He went over and picked up a branch from off the pond's base, swishing it around like a sword. “My prowess is just as good as his. I bet I could even best him.”
Giovanni placed the stick over his face, as if initiating a duel and proceeded to battle his imaginary foes, slaying all of them in the most dramatic way possible, trying to keep himself entertained as the evening wore on.
It was the cracking of a stone, however, and a soft whisper that brought him out of his trance.
“Fernando?” the gruff voice called softly. “Is that you?”
Giovanni froze where he stood and looked around, unsure of where the voice was coming from.
“Fernando?” he heard the voice call again from the shadows.
“Who's there?” Giovanni whispered back.
“It's me, Juan. Come over here.”
On the far end, by the side of the fountain, he saw a guard motion to him, his face obscured by the darkness.
For a moment, Giovanni didn't make a single move, unsure if he should run and make a break for it, or approach him, and potentially blow his cover.
Then the voice called again.
“Are you coming?”
Giovanni hesitantly moved his way over to the fountain, unsure of what was about to happen.
When he reached the shadows, however, he felt two pair of strong arms grab him and force him against the wall in an embrace.
“Oh, mi amigo, I missed you so much,” the voice whispered in his ear. “Did you miss me?”
“Si?” Giovanni replied, trying to cover up his Italian accent.
“What's wrong?” the voice asked apprehensively, “You sound strange.”
“Sorry,” Giovanni said, coughing. “I've got an inflammation.”
He coughed some more, hoping to convince the guard, whose form he could barely make out through the darkness.
“Oh no,” the voice said. “I hope you're not getting sick.”
“No,” Giovanni replied, “Just hoarse is all.”
“Good, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to do this.”
Giovanni felt carried away as the guard's lifted him into the air and forced his lips against his. Taken by surprise, the stunned servant writhed a bit as the guard forced his tongue into his mouth, kissing him passionately while Giovanni tried to push him away.
“Eh, what's wrong with you?” the voice asked. “Do you not want to be kissed?”
Giovanni's cheeks burned furiously as he started to move away from the guard.
“No,” he said, searching for breath. “No, I can't do this!”
“What?” the voice asked, apprehensively,“Do you not love me anymore?”
“No, it's not that” Giovanni said. “I just can't...”
The guard grabbed his shoulders.
“There's somebody else, isn't there? Tell me the truth!”
“No, there's no one else, I swear!”
“Then why are you acting this way?”
“Because I'm not who you think I am!” Giovanni sputtered.
“So, has our love been a lie then? Is that what you are telling me?”
“No,” Giovanni said, “that's not what I'm saying at all.”
“Then what then?” the voice asked resentfully. “What about everything we've been through? Does that mean nothing?”
“No,” Giovanni said. “I just can't be with you.”
The guard bowed his head and slumped against the wall as he removed his helmet, revealing his bright blonde hair through the darkness and the tears forming in his eyes.
“Hey,” Giovanni said, kneeling down. “Come on now...”
“No,” the guard said, batting him away. “I don't want to speak to you now.”
“Look,” Giovanni continued, “Just because I'm not the one, doesn't mean there isn't someone else out there.”
The guard didn't reply. He merely sat there as more tears rolled down his cheeks.
“You're a great guy and I'm sure you can find another.”
“No!” the guard yelled, shaking his hands. “You're the only one! You're my entire world and you're doing this to me now! After all we've been through!”
“I'm sorry,” Giovanni said, shaking his head. “But I can't...”
“Fine, be that way,” the guard said, wiping his eyes. “But don't come crawling back to me when...when...” his voice started to falter. “Oh por dios!” he cried, and ran into the night.
Giovanni shook his head as he moved back to the fountain, uncertain of what he had just witnessed. It was at that moment, though, that Prince Blueblood emerged from the entrance of the palace.
“Master? Is that you? Oh thank goodness! I'm so happy to see you!” Giovanni exclaimed. “Where have you been? Did you get the panties?”
Blueblood shook his head.
“Let us just say some unfortunate complications arose that required a reevaluation of the condition of the situation.”
Giovanni squinted his eyes.
“What?”
“I got caught,” Blueblood admitted offhandedly.
“Bravo!” Giovanni said. “So what now? Are you going to be punished?”
“You could say that,” Blueblood replied. “It seems we're going to be going away for awhile.”
“Away?” Giovanni asked. “Where?”
“A little city out in the country. Aunty has assigned one of her students to 'reform' me.”
“Perfect, and how long do we have to stay there?”
“A few months, I'm sure.”
Giovanni sighed.
“A momentary set-back, for sure,” Blueblood continued. “But nothing substantial.”
“So, are you telling me we did all this for nothing?”
“Not nothing,” Blueblood replied, “Aunty promised to give me the panties if I was a good boy.”
“Great, just great,” Giovanni bellowed, throwing up his hands.
“I don't see what you're complaining about,” Blueblood remarked. “You're not the one being sent away.”
“No, but I just broke a poor man's heart, and have nothing to show for it!”
“You broke...a man's heart?” Blueblood asked, raising his eyebrow.
“It's a long story, but he mistook me for someone else, and now he's run off distressed.”
“Strange...” Blueblood said, “But tis' the fickle nature of love – here one minute, gone the next.”
“I guess,” Giovanni said. “So, when do we move to this village?”
“Three days,” Blueblood replied.
Giovanni groaned.
“Cheer up, though,” Blueblood said, “I mean, how bad could it possibly be?”
