120 Days of Blueblood

“The only real laughter comes from despair.”
― Groucho Marx

"The secret to happiness lies in deriving pleasure out of the most menial of tasks," Blueblood said, reading aloud from his journal. He had just finished relating his account of the dressmaker's family and Celestia's heretical student.

Prince Blueblood sat in his chambers with two other white unicorns. One of them was a large stallion with a blue mane and a mustache. He also wore a monocle over his left eye. He was a noblecolt who wielded considerable power throughout the kingdom and shared the prince's love of lewd desires. The mustachioed stallion was known to all as Fancy Pants. His mistress, the pink-maned Fleur-di-lis, had her head buried in the stallion's lap and was eagerly fellating him. The prince was entertaining his guests by reading to them entries of his former conquests and brutal acts of depravity.

"I say," Fancy Pants said to the mare, "the prince's lurid exploits have done more to stiffen my rod than even your skilled tongue, my dear." Fleur responded to this veiled insult by deepthroating his cock in an effort to please her master; gagging as she did so.

"Mmm, there's a good filly," Fancy Pants said, patronizingly, as his hoof played with her flowing mane.

When the Prince read his journal entries, he was able to relive every moment of the act. Blueblood could smell the cold sweat as it ran down their backs and hear their anguished cries. The prince ascribed to the belief that if you enjoy an experience, write it down to show how much you treasure it. This practice will increase the likelihood of it happening again.

Recounting his tales of cruelty had succeed in stiffening not only Fancy Pants' stallionhood, but Blueblood's member as well. Wishing to be seen as a true gentlecolt by his friends, the prince approached Fancy Pants and asked permission to ravage Fleur's marehood. Fancy Pants graciously gave his consent.

Fleur was skinny and narrow. When Blueblood mounted her, she barely had the strength to support his weight. She groaned as she kept her nose pressed against the base of Fancy Pants' cock. The mustachioed stallion groaned with delight.

The mare fared no better at standing once the prince started to slowly insert his thick girth into her narrow passage. Her folds parted, allowing him greater access to her moist treasures. When she was completely filled, Fleur let out a lustful moan that was muffled by Fancy Pants' suffocating shaft.

Working her over with long, forceful thrusts, Blueblood pressed Fleur forward until the stallionhood in her mouth was pushed so far down her throat, the mare was incapable of drawing a breath.

In an act of mercy, Fancy Pants slid back, removing his member from her quivering gullet. Fleur choked and gasped for breath as soon as her windpipe was clear. The mare panted as she tried desperately to breathe. Fancy Pants ordered her to hold her head high, that her face might take his noble seed.

Fancy Pants stroked his stallionhood and ejaculated thick strands of gooey semen across his mistress' face. The first glob landed under her left eye, with the subsequent shots landing in her mane and on her nose. She raised a hoof and attempted to wipe away the semen near her eye.

"Stop," Fancy Pants said in a quiet, yet commanding voice, "Lower your hoof. I want admire your cum-dabbled face a little while longer." Fleur obeyed her master and stared up into Fancy Pants' eyes.

Prince Blueblood sensed that his orgasm was imminent. Wanting to enjoy a similar sport to Fancy Pants, the prince pulled out and walked around to use Fleur's pretty face as a cum rag. Traces of the noblecolt's jizz were streaking down the mare's face. Fleur was still panting, breathlessly.

"I heard you choking earlier my dear," Blueblood said, in a mock tone of concern, "The best remedy for shortness of breathe is to make sure the nasal path is clear. Fortunately for you, I have some nose drops!"

Placing a hoof on either side of her head, Blueblood pulled forward and pressed the tip of his cock up against Fleur's right nostril. She could smell the prince's musk, mingled with the feminine odors of her pussy. Those smells were quickly drowned out with the strong stench of ammonia as Blueblood ejaculated, filling her nostril with semen. She instinctively snorted her nose, spraying the stallion's seed back onto his cock. Blueblood hit her in the side of her head as he quickly moved his cock to her left nostril for his second load.

"Ungrateful whore!" Blueblood shouted, "How dare you reject my gift! See you keep this in, lest I take a hot poker and solder all your holes shut!" Blueblood filled her left nostril with cum. Rejecting her body's natural impulses, the mare actively inhaled, in order to keep as much of the semen in as possible.

Acting fast, the prince managed to fill her right nostril back up with his final spurts. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, semen leaked slowly out of both her nostrils, running down to her lips. Fleur sat there obediently snorting back semen, looking thoroughly miserable.

"I must say," Fancy Pants said, smirking, "I've never seen those holes get filled before." Fancy Pants dismissed Fleur to go make herself look presentable before they departed.

"Yes master," she said, pathetically. She hadn't cum. They never cared if she came.

When they were alone, Fancy Pants approached the prince with news from the kingdom.

"Are you aware of that gypsy in the Canterlot market gardens?" Fancy Pants asked the prince.

"Her run down wagon has been a blight on the square for nearly a year," Blueblood replied, "She cons fools of their money and sells harmless trinkets. What about her?"

"Rumors are flying around that she may be a witch," Fancy Pants said, "They say she has a sixth sense that can predict the future." Blueblood's face broke out in a sinister smile.

"I suppose, as prince, I owe it to my fellow Equestrians to interrogate the mare and discern the validity of the accusations leveled against her." Blueblood said, solemnly. Fancy Pants and Blueblood exchanged evil smiles.

Once Fleur had refreshed herself, Blueblood walked his guests to the door. After seeing them out, he turned to one of his guards and demanded that the gypsy be brought in on charges of witchcraft.

In short order, the pink pony was dragged down to the dungeon. When Blueblood arrived to interrogate the prisoner, the guards had followed his instructions and placed her in the stocks. Her head and fore-hooves were immobilized as she stood there crying. After a brief bit of futile struggling, the mare realized that the only way out of her bonds was to convince the prince to release her.

"Please let me go!" the gypsy wailed, "I'm not a witch! I'm not a witch!" The prince slowly approached her, an air of menace in his movements.

"Then how do you explain your powers of divination?" the prince asked, "You have knowledge of things nopony was meant to have." The mare dared not look the prince in the eye. She seemed to not know how to answer the question herself.

"I can't explain how it does what it does," the gypsy said, "It just does." Blueblood was not to be swayed by the witch's double speak. The mare, meanwhile, hoped to appeal to his compassionate side.

"Please release me, your majesty," she said, "for I am with foal and will deliver soon." Blueblood glanced down between her legs. The mare's belly had distended to accommodate the unborn foal growing inside her. The fact that she was pregnant while trapped in the stocks amused Blueblood, because it meant that the mare had a pudge and she couldn't budge.

"A witch's foal," Blueblood said, as he circled the mare like a shark, "No doubt the spawn of Discord grows within your wretched womb. I take it you have known your dark master in the flesh then?"

"Lies!" the mare sobbed. Calling the prince a liar was a crime punishable by death. Had the mare not been so distraught, she would've chosen her words more carefully. However, Blueblood was not about to kill her for speaking ill of him. The prince wanted to make sure she lived to endure the punishments reserved for witches, as they were much more entertaining to watch.

"I was raped!" she cried, "In truth it was a licentious Royal Guard who did the evil deed. He had been demanding protection money from me or else he said I would be set ablaze with all my possessions. When I ran out of funds to pay him, he said my virginity would be his payment! Then without another word, he raped me in my vardo!" Blueblood had never heard a marehood called that before. What the prince didn't realize was that 'vardo' was the proper name for a gypsy's wagon.

"He raped me for hours and unleashed his seed inside me," the gypsy sobbed, hanging her head in shame, "now I carry his foal... He never even told me his name..." Blueblood listened to her story with rapt attention and a growing erection.

In spite of being raped, the gypsy had hesitated to leave the city. There were so many ponies in Canterlot that her business had never been better. There was always some pony who wanted their hoof read or to see their fate with the Tarot cards. As the gypsy stood pitiably in the stocks, the mare felt she would have done better to leave Canterlot and try somewhere else. Even the warlike griffins seemed more inviting towards her at this point.

"Maybe she's not clairvoyant after all," Blueblood thought, "If she could see the future, surely a knowledge of her impending rape would not have eluded her." Ignoring these logical impressions, Blueblood pushed for a confession witchcraft. When she finished her tragic tale, the prince presented his rebuttal.

"Raped?" Blueblood said, "I think not. No, you used your gypsy magic to seduce one of my guards to claim his pious chastity. Does your depravity know no bounds?" The mare tried to speak, but she was too shocked to form the words.

Since the pink pony was immobilized, Blueblood wished to partake in his own brand of interrogation. The prince spat on his firm cock head and spread the mare's pink ass cheeks. She let out a scared yelp.

"My prince!" she cried, "I pray you; do not this wickedness! Such things are unnatural!" Blueblood let out a hollow laugh and pressed his cock against her little hole. The stallion smiled that a witch would attempt to scold him on unnatural wickedness.

"The body of this witch, yea even her womb, is infested with all manner of demons!" Blueblood shouted to the heavens, "With my blessed rod I shall attempt to purge her body of unclean spirits!" The gypsy was horror-struck by the prospect and pissed herself in fear. Blueblood took advantage of the shower and lowered his stallionhood to coat it in urine.

"You must really desire to be buggered if you provide me with such fine lube!" Blueblood said, "Now make way for your prince!" Blueblood's bulbous head slipped past her tight sphincter. Even though his cock had been made slick, her ass itself was bone dry. Blueblood leaned on her back and humped her gypsy ass, driving himself a little deeper with each thrust. The mare was a blubbering mess as the pain in her bleeding ass prevented her from thinking straight. Her pregnant belly shook forcefully as the prince mercilessly rammed her rectum. Her large hoop earrings bounced wildly against the stocks as she grit her teeth in pain. Her rectal blood leaked onto the floor as the prince continued to sodomize the anal virgin.

"Take it out, please!" she sobbed, "I cannot bear the pain! I beg you to release me; I've done nothing wrong!" Blueblood slowed his thrusting until he came to a stop. The prince put his weight on her back with his member still buried deep inside her. Ceasing his thrusts was not done out of mercy or compassion; her tight bottom threatened to make him climax before he was ready, and Blueblood didn't want to cum too soon.

The prince leaned in close to smell her mane. It smelled sugary sweet, like fresh confections. Inhaling deeply, the prince then moved down from her hair and began to lick the back of her neck. The gypsy's unwilling ass continued to massage and caress his shaft, preventing him from going completely soft. Since he was resting for a moment, the prince wished to converse with the mare.

"Tell me my future, witch," Blueblood said, mocking her, "What do the sands of time hold for your benevolent prince?" The gypsy remained silent. She would not confess to the false accusation of witchcraft. Blueblood grew irate from her obstinance.

"Speak, you whorish dam!" the prince snapped, "When your sovereign gives a command, it is to be obeyed." The gypsy gave a defeated sigh.

"I'm not a witch, my prince," she said sadly, "I mean no ill will to anypony; I only want to bring joy."

"Your glorious asshole has certainly brought me joy. It's much tighter than any vardo," Blueblood said. He enjoyed this new filthy word being added to his lexicon. Considering how spacious her vardo was, the gypsy hardly found the prince's statement to be a compliment.

"If your prediction impresses me," Blueblood said, temptingly, "I will release you and allow you to return home to raise your bastard foal." The searing pain in her ass distracted her ability to notice any signs predicting future events; but, desperate to be released, the gypsy decided to make something up for Blueblood.

"Oh, my prince," she said, trying to sound as mystical as possible, "I see many joyful days during your long life." The gypsy tried to put on a happy face; but inwardly, she was wracked with grief and pain. She prayed that her lie might pacify the prince enough to willingly release her and her foal.

"What about those who oppose me?" Blueblood asked, enjoying the little game, "Do I risk an assassination attempt in my future?" The gypsy thought pleasantly for a moment about the different manners in which the prince could be murdered. She then continued her charade.

"Your enemies shall be crushed beneath your hooves!" she said, "All who fight against you shall meet a fate worse than death!"

"Witchcraft is not needed to see that. I know all my enemies shall fall," Blueblood said, "but what about the mares? How many mares will I rape and subjugate to my will?" Being a rape victim herself, the gypsy was disgusted by the thought; but desiring to be freed herself, she indulged the prince in his fantasy.

"Your massive stallionhood shall become legendary for the sheer number of deflowered virgins it leaves in its wake!" she said, trying not to cry, "Your virility shames other stallions and makes grown mares weep with joy!" The gypsy felt as though she were going to be ill.

"Tell me witch, what think you of my sexual prowess?" Blueblood asked, "Who is the better lover? The guard who deflowered your vardo, or the prince who speared your gypsy shit hole?" Asking the mare to chose between rapists was almost more than she could bear. At that moment, she wanted the world to come crashing down around her. Resisting the urge to sink into despair, the mare knew that in order to live, she had to stroke the prince's ego, among other things.

"No contest! It is you, my prince," the mare said, lying through her teeth, "Your god-like stallionhood is a key that unlocked a room of forbidden pleasures within my body." Blueblood gave a lustful groan as he sniffed her sweet-scented hair again. He thanked her for the vision.

"Now I shall purify you with my holy water," Blueblood said, eagerly. Even though the prince's cock was semi-erect, it was still flaccid enough to perform its main bodily function. A shudder coursed through Blueblood's body as he released his bladder inside her ass and filled her colon with warm piss.

"My princely water makes her anal passage feel as slick as any vardo!" the stallion thought pleasantly, as he enjoyed the warm, wet sensation. Blueblood pulled everything except out, except for his tip. The prince then slammed forward with terrific force. As her ass was impaled, Blueblood's cock displaced most of the piss inside her. Urine sprayed out of her tight ring as Blueblood's balls slapped against her marehood.

The gypsy regretted praising the sodomy earlier, as the increased speeds of his thrusts hurt like no pain she'd ever endured before. The added humiliation of being used as a toilet made her want to vomit.

"I've done what you asked," she sobbed, "I told you your future! Please let me go!" The mare could feel her foal being jostled around inside her belly and prayed this waking nightmare would not harm her child.

"I shall release you," the prince said, pumping himself faster, "once you confess to being a witch."

"If I confess, will you Pinkie promise to return me safely to my home?" the gypsy asked. Blueblood was above making deals with Roma scum like her, but he did need to hear her confess. Begrudgingly, he agreed to her terms, having every intention of keeping his word. Feeling certain this would end her misery, the mare confessed.

"I'm a witch!" the gypsy screamed, "I'm an evil enchantress! I confess!" Those were the words Blueblood had been longing to hear. Taking a fore-hoof, Blueblood reached underneath and punched the mare in the kidneys. The sudden pain caused the mare's buttocks and rectal passage to tighten, bringing the prince on the verge of climax.

"Please don't hurt my foal!" she cried, wincing from the pain. Without a word, Blueblood brought a fore-hoof down on the back of the mare's head, rendering her unconscious.

"I'm an honorable stallion," the prince said to himself, as he came in her ass, "Now that you've given me release, I'll return you safely to your broken down hovel."

Blueblood was good to his word. Two guards carried the pregnant mare back to her wagon and set her inside. The gypsy's unconscious frame slept soundly through the night.

When the mare awoke the next morning, her head was quite sore. Her ass was also in considerable pain as she moved a hoof over where the prince had so mercilessly violated her the night before. She looked around and realized that she was home in her bed. The gypsy couldn't believe that she had survived the nightmare. Sitting up slowly in bed, she rubbed her pregnant belly tenderly. Even though he was conceived in a violent rape, the mother could not bear any hate towards her foal. The child would not pay for the sins of the father. She had resolved to raise her foal with all the love she had to give.

Throwing caution to the wind, she knew she couldn't stay in this city another day. She didn't know where she would go or how she would provide for her foal; all she knew that she had narrowly avoided death and would not chance it again,

Jumping off of her bed, she landed with a splash on the floor of her wagon. There were a couple inches of water around her ankles. Curious to what was going on, she tried to open a window. It wouldn't open. All of the shutters and doors of her vardo had been bordered up last night as she slept soundly. The mare pressed an ear up against a crack in the window to hear what was going on. She heard the rushing of waters outside and... voices?

It was dawn. Blueblood stood on a stage overlooking a small crowd to witness the public execution of a confessed witch. Her vardo had been moved during the night next to a wooden crane that was used to unload cargo from ships. The vardo was attached to the crane and was suspended on the surface of the Canterlot River.

"Inside this sinister-looking vessel I have trapped a witch," Blueblood said, "She confessed to having premonitions and visions sent by her dark master." The pregnant mare sobbed as she pounded on the window.

"Please!" she cried, "You said you'd allow me to go home and raise my foal! You Pinkie promised!" Blueblood walked to the edge of the platform overlooking the river. He talked loud enough so the mare could hear him, but quiet enough that his voice was drowned out by the rush of the river through the wagon wheels.

"I kept my promise," Blueblood said, "I let you return to your home in peace. I'll even allow you to raise the little bastard. The first thing you'll need to teach your foal is how to breathe underwater." The mare felt as though she were dead, in spite of her rapid heartbeat. She leaned her cheek against the shutters and slipped into despair.

"For your safety we have locked the witch in her mobile coven," Blueblood said, "If you were to look deep in her eyes, she would put you in trances."

"Don't do this!" she screamed in desperation, pounding on the window, "I'm not a witch! Please, I beg you! Spare the life of my unborn foal!" The crowd murmured amongst themselves. The fact that the accused was pregnant was new information. Some in the audience gave sympathetic looks. Blueblood attempted to quell any misgivings about the punishment by clever stratagem.

"A cunning gypsy trick," Blueblood said, "Be not deceived by the witch's silver tongue. She carries within her womb an unholy demon. We shall cleanse our city of these two evils with one swift act of justice!" Blueblood positioned himself to release the lever and send the wagon into the icy waters below.

"Wait!" the gypsy mare screamed. From within her vardo, she shook as though she were having a fit. While the horror of this situation would be enough to unnerve anypony, that's not what was happening here. She was receiving a genuine premonition.

"I'm getting a vision!" the gypsy said, "A doozy of a vision about Prince Blueblood!" All the audience became quiet to hear her prediction. Even Blueblood was silenced out of curiosity.

"I see... I see... " the mare said, "A party! The whole kingdom gathers around to celebrate your birthday, my prince! The day of your birth is made a public holiday and your subjects present you with a huge gift!" The prince was not impressed. He considered last night's prediction to be much more creative.

"We shall see if the fish find your evil pranks amusing," Blueblood said as he released the mechanism, Begone foul creature! You have no right to breathe the free air." The gypsy's possessions were jostled around and smashed onto the floor as the vardo was tossed by the waves. The metal axles underneath were enough to submerge the wagon. The current attempted to pull the wagon down stream, but the rope kept it from drifting far from the crowd, or the prince.

Inside her vardo, the mare was hyperventilating. She looked frantically around, desperate for an exit, bit there were none to be found. Water poured in from every leak and crack. The mare hopped up on her bed and sobbed.

As the vardo sank lower into the river, it became pitch black inside the wagon. The mare shivered as the icy water chilled her home. If she had been able to see anything at all, she would have seen her breath.

She sat in the dark on her floating bed as the icy waters rose around her. In an effort to create a final pleasant moment, the mare stroked her belly and tried not to cry as she sang her child a song.

"When I was a little filly and the sun was going down, the darkness and the shadows they would always make me frown..."

Blueblood stared at the taut rope. He assumed that the wagon must be nearly filled by this point. The witch did not have long for this world. He mused as he thought about the seapony tales told by sailors in the royal navy. Blueblood wondered if such creatures did exist, or if they were mere fairy tales. As much as he wanted to see his will carried out on the mare, part of him would have enjoyed seeing her saved by seaponies, if only to confirm their existence.

The waters were rising fast now and the gypsy was treading water. Her head was touching the top of her wagon as she rushed through the end of her song to try and finish it before she ran out of air.

"...and if he thinks he can scare you then he's got another thing coming and the very idea of such a thing just makes you wanna... (gasp)," The mare took a deep breath of the last remaining air before her body was completely surrounded by water.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," she thought to her foal as she held her breath, "I even made a Pinkie promise." The icy water stung her entire body until she could no longer feel any sensation in her extremities. She knew she was going to die in the dark here.

The mare's air was running out and she became increasingly scared. She futilely banged on the ceiling, but this only depleted her oxygen faster. No longer able to fight her body's natural impulse to breathe, the mare involuntarily opened her mouth and inhaled, sucking in water.

The icy liquid flowed down her windpipe, causing her to cough and swallow even more water. As the river rushed down her throat, the mare's vocal chords constricted, preventing water from entering her lungs. Without this diverging path open, all water she swallowed went into her stomach.

Unable to breathe, she began to panic. All her rational thoughts were gone as she tried desperately to save herself and the life of her foal. The gypsy clawed maddeningly with her hooves against the ceiling of her vardo, but it was no use. Her fate was sealed. She felt herself growing weak as her life started to leave her. The mare's last thoughts were about the foal she would never get to see. Just before her oxygen levels became too low to sustain brain cells, she made her last thought.

"It's just as well," she thought, "The world is too evil for souls as happy as ours." The gypsy's body slowly drifted to the floor of her wagon, never to rise again.

Prince Blueblood cut the rope, allowing the witch and her child to rot in their watery graves. When he returned to his chambers, he pulled a lock of a curly pink mane out of his pocket. The prince took a sniff and inhaled the gypsy's sweet scent. Blueblood felt himself growing erect as he placed his latest trophy beside the purple horn and the dress. Blueblood sat down at his desk and eagerly began to write his latest journal entry.