Even at this early hour of the morning, the Great Bazaar of Cluckstantinople was abuzz with life, brimming with sights, sounds, and smells…

Wait.

Trenderhoof levitated his notebook out to jot that line down. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Anyway.

The most interesting sight wasn’t the brilliantly colored carpets, the magnificent plumage of the shoppers, or the morning sunlight filtering through that stone arches above. It was the large white unicorn in a keffiyeh he kept catching sight of. Could Blueblood really be slumming it in a place like this? Unlikely, but that compass rose cutie mark was unmistakable. Trenderhoof narrowed his eyes, and sipped his tiny cup of coffee. It couldn’t be him. It simply couldn’t be.

As a close friend of Rarity’s, Trenderhoof’s feelings about Blueblood were far from unalloyed. He had direct eyewitness testimony that the prince was every bit as much of a flare-end as people said he was. But Blueblood was also one of the handsomest stallions in the world. And Trenderhoof did mean the entire world, he’d been all over it and done detailed research. There were few bodies so muscular, few coats so well kept, few cocks so… well, he’d never gotten a good, closeup look at Blueblood’s cock, and Rarity was too proper to go into details like that, but he’d heard stories from other sources that it a sight to behold.

Anyway, meeting an Equestrian prince in a Turkish Bazaar? That was something to write about. And he did have a word count to make and a deadline to meet.

Trenderhoof finished off the drinkable part of his coffee, handed the cup of sludge back to the vendor, and slipped into the crowd of giant birds. The Turkish were tall, most of their heads over his, and he could only see glimpses of a white coat through all the tail fans and long, fleshy necks.

Bloodblood — if it was Blueblood — stopped for a long time at a carpet stall, but by the time Trenderhoof had wriggled and shoved his way over there, he was gone.

“Excuse me,” he said to the vendor. “That unicorn you were just talking to. Did you see which way he went?”

“He offered me thirteen lira for this carpet,” said the vendor, slapping a breathtakingly detailed red and gold carpet, his snood and wattled aquiver with rage. “Thirteen! What does he think I am, a charity?”

Definitely Blueblood.

“But did you see which way he went?” said Trenderhoof.

“He said he was going to Gobblebriel’s Café, and that if you came by you should either stop stalking him or come talk to him. Your choice.” The turkey narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so interested in him, anyway?”

“No reason,” said Trenderhoof anxiously, and vanished into the crowd. Homosexuality was not as widely accepted in Turkey as it was in Equestria.

The café was up several flights of stairs, on a balcony that overlooked a good portion of the bazaar. Blueblood was sitting at the table with two still-steaming cups of Turkish coffee. He raised an eyebrow as Trenderhoof came up the stairs. He gave him a coy smile and flicked his mane out of his eyes. Trenderhoof’s heart stopped beating. Blueblood was every bit as handsome as they said. Drawn as if by a magnet, Trenderhoof walked over, pulled out a stool, and sat. He looked up at the larger stallion’s big, light blue eyes, hypnotized.

“You’re following me. Why?” said Blueblood.

“I’m… I’m Trenderhoof.” Trender felt that this should be self explanatory, but Blueblood just gave him a blank look.

“Who?”

“The travel writer?”

Blueblood wrinkled up his nose. “Never heard of you. I never read anything by a writer who is still alive. Reading inferior books is a waste of my time, and the passage of years to weed out the trash, I find. I do not like having my time wasted.”

“It’s just… I…” He found himself dumbstruck by the prince’s presence. And by his rudeness. Words were Trenderhoof’s forte, to be certain, but words on paper. Words on paper could be controlled and refined. One had a certain leisure in picking them. Words out loud were a struggle sometimes. “I was curious. What you were doing here?”

“I’m doing Auntie Tia’s dirty work, and if I learn you have written about seeing or meeting me in any capacity, then I may have occasion to read your work.” Blueblood took a sip of his coffee.

Trenderhoof gulped. “Did you just threaten to kill me?”

“Yes,” said Blueblood.

Trenderhoof felt his cock begin to stiffen. He did not understand why. He scooted forward, pressing his belly against the table to hide his arousal from the prince.

“You’re still here,” said Blueblood.

“I am,” said Trenderhoof. Terror and lust warred in him, but both made it impossible for him to move. Golly Blueblood was big. His chest and foreleg muscles rippled with power, even in the simple act of raising a coffee cup. In all the stories about what a sissy he was, the reality of how big and strong he was somehow got lost.

Blueblood narrowed his eyes. “Wait. I’ve seen you. You’re one of that gold-digging whore Rarity’s friends, aren’t you?”

A new emotion rose in Trenderhoof’s chest. Rage. Rarity, the clever, the gentle, the brave. Rarity the beautiful, generous with the gifts of her bed. Rarity, who had introduced him to her. Rarity, a rare, true friend in a world full of traitorous vipers. Without thinking, Trenderhoof’s hoof shot out, and he slapped Blueblood across the face. “Don’t talk about her that way!”

The Blueblood of popular rumor would have squealed at the blow, and at the small trickle of blood flowing from his left nostril. Maybe cried. But popular rumor was, in this case, wrong. Blueblood levitated up a napkin, wiped his nose, looked at the blood, and then grabbed Trenderhoof’s neck in a collar of magic and jerked him across the table, upsetting both cups of coffee. Trenderhoof plucked at the collar with his own magic, but Blueblood, Celestia’s closest living blood relative and fifth in line for her throne — or was it sixth now? — was much more powerful than him.

“What,” he snarled, “do you think gives you the right to muss my royal fur with your filthy’s commoner’s hooves?”

“Can’t… can’t breathe…” gasped Trenderhoof.

Blueblood’s nostrils flared. “Well. It smells like you don’t only like cunts.” He glanced down at Trender’s long, thin, no longer hidden cock. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“A little,” admitted Trenderhoof, forehooves tugging at the magical force around his neck.

Blue blood tore away Trenderhoof’s sweater with his magic, leaving his lean, rangy body bare. He felt the other customers’ eyes on his nakedness, and twisted against his magical bonds.

“You don’t look half bad.” He dropped Trenderhoof to the tabletop with a thump. “Truth be told, poultry isn’t to my taste. Tia tells me that my subjects are not my toys, and that I have to ask permission, first. I find this demeaning to my royal person. So. If you don’t run away right now, I will interpret that as consent. Do you understand?”

Trenderhoof lay on the table, gasping. He made no move to leave.

Blueblood grinned. “Good. Get under the table and suck my cock.”

“Sodomy…” gasped Trenderhoof, “Sodomy’s illegal, here.”

“I don’t care,” said Blueblood, lifting the napkin back to his bloody nose. “I have diplomatic immunity. I could murder you right here and walk away. Which I’m considering. So do a good job down there.”

Trenderhoof slid off the table and looked around. They were alone. The staff and the customers had fled. Likely getting the guards. He looked back at the stairs up and the open doors of the cafe. Blueblood slammed them, closed and sealed them with his magic. Trenderhoof decided it was best if he crawled under the table and had a look.

Blueblood’s hind legs were spread. His cock was out of its sheath, but not erect, a pink and white hose thicker than Trender’s foreleg, resting over his immense pink balls and dangling over the edge of the stool. It hung nearly to the floor. Oh holy Zacherle, this was going to be a challenge.

Trenderhoof crawled across the dirty floor, through spilled coffee, and lifted the massive member in his hooves. It was smooth as silk, clean, and slightly glossy. He inhaled its scent — a mix of musky stallion sweat, lavender soap, and Blueblood’s sharp-smelling cologne. Trenderhoof hazarded lick, running his tongue along the top of it behind the flare, and the cock pulsed to life in his hooves, hardening and thickening.

“Don’t tease me, you little commoner slut,” hissed Blueblood. “You need to finish before the guards get here, or I’m throwing you to them.”

Trenderhoof’s heart rate spiked. He tried to wrap his lips around Blueblood’s flare. He opened his jaw wide as he could, and twisted and wriggled his head until the flare popped through his lips. The shaft was a little more manageable, but it was at the absolute limit of what he could handle. It stretched his lips into a thin O shape around the shaft. He bobbed his head forward — luckily he didn’t have much of a gag response, and was able to suppress what he did have, because the flare hit the top of his throat right away. He wrapped his hooves around the shaft, stroking it, and began to bob his head, suckling on the seven inches or so that he could fit.

“Oh, mother of whores, you have a sweet little mouth,” said Blueblood, powerful thighs trembling with pleasure. “Deeper, commoner slut. More.”

Trenderhoof did his best. His jaw was already pulled as wide as it would go by the sheer girth of Blueblood’s cock, so it wasn’t a tough trick to open his throat. The cock bumped against the top of his throat again and again, but try as he might he couldn’t get it in. Oh no. Blueblood might not be able to finish like this. Trenderhoof began to panic just the tiniest bit.

“I said deeper, you ignorant whore,” growled Blueblood, and grabbed Trender’s neck with his magic again. He tugged forward, and Blueblood’s cock popped painfully into Trender’s throat. Past the initial tightness, progress was easy, and inch after inch of perfect royal dick vanished into Trenderhoof’s mouth until he was drooling and gurgling against Blueblood’s massive balls.

Trenderhoof didn’t mind being roughly used. This was probably the biggest cock he’d ever encountered — he felt like it had been stuffed all the way down his throat and deep into his chest! But he’d sucked many cocks, and he knew his way around them. The treatment hurt, but not too badly. He’d be fine. The problem was that he couldn’t breath! He kept trying to inhale through his nostrils and it kept not working. He pawed at Blueblood’s thighs with his hooves, panicked, placating.

Blueblood didn’t care. He yanked on Trenderhoof’s mane with his magic, tugging him back, and then slammed him forward again, mashing his nose against curly white pubic fluff. He jerked him back and forth, rough and quick, using Trenderhoof’s face as a sex toy. That shaft surged into him, plowing his raw throat mercilessly. He was starting to feel dizzy.

“Yes!” said Blueblood, slapping the table, “Yes! Oh, you have such a tight little face-cunt, commoner! Oh, you almost deserve to be bathed in royal spunk!”

Trenderhoof’s lungs burned from lack of air. The world around him was starting to get dim. Blueblood was banging the table very loudly. Then Trender realized that that banging was coming from the door. The guards were here!

“Our audience has arrived, commoner slut,” hissed Blueblood. Trenderhoof could feel the other stallion’s body tensing, trembling. “Oh. Oh yes. Almost there…”

Trenderhoof’s eyes rolled up into his head as Blueblood shook him back and forth like a violently. His mother had always warned him it would end like this if he didn’t change his ways. Then suddenly Blueblood bellowed, and yanked him off his cock. Trenderhoof gasped, pulling in a sweet, wonderful lungful of air, only to be hit in the face with a flood of musky, salty cum. It filled his open mouth, matted his snout fur, and plastered his glasses, blinding him.

“Oh. That hit the spot. Thank you, commoner slut,” purred Blueblood, dragging Trenderhoof out from under the table, and lifting him up into the air by the scruff of his neck. “Let’s let the guards have a good look at you, before we go.”

Trenderhoof’s glasses slipped askew, allowing him to watch as Blueblood’s magic left the doors, and they slammed open. A half dozen angry armed turkeys, three of them holding a battering ram, tumbled into the café, looking shocked. Their eyes widened when they saw Trender hanging in midair, naked, face plastered white, next to a smirking Blueblood. Then were was a flash of magical light, and the two of them were in a cheap hotel room.

“I hope you didn’t swallow, yet,” said Blueblood, setting Trenderhoof down on all fours, removing his keffiyeh and climbing up to recline on the bed with his head and long golden mane hanging over the edge.

“Mgh-ngh,” said Trenderhoof.

“Share it with me, then. I savor the taste of my own spunk.”

Trenderhoof nodded, and walked over to Blueblood on shaking legs. He leaned over the prince’s face, and opened his mouth, drooling his mouthful of cum into his open mouth. Blueblood wasn’t lying about loving his own flavor. When Trender’s mouth was empty, Blueblood swished the load around with his tongue, closed his mouth, swallowed, and sighed happily. “Delightful. Your glasses, please?”

Trenderhoof levitated his cum-caked glasses off and held them out to the prince, who lapped them clean and popped them back on Trender’s snout. Blueblood’s tongue had smeared them terribly, but he could sort of see, now.

Blueblood clapped his hooves. “Excellent. Please allow the rest of the cum to dry in your fur, so that you look like a proper commoner slut. Now. Mount my face.”

“What?” coughed Trenderhoof, his voice raspy from being throat fucked.

“You’re ragingly hard, and drooling like a leaky faucet, which means you enjoyed what I just did to you.” Blueblood giggled. “You took brutal abuse like a good little soldier, and I, in my royal largess, wish to reward you. I can take it, as well as dish it out. Come on! Mount up.”

“The guards,” said Trenderhoof, trembling with fear. “You might be safe from them, but they’re going to arrest me the second we’re apart.”

“Oh, like they’ll recognize you like that. Just wash up before you go out and you’ll be fine. I even saved what’s left of your filthy commoner rags.”

Trenderhoof glanced over his torn sweater and hi satchel, laid out on the vanity. He was glad Blueblood had saved it; his notebook was in the breast pocket, along with his passport.

“Ahhhhh,” said Blueblood, opening his mouth wide.

Trenderhoof gulped, his hips shaking with desire as that handsome face opened up for him. He stepped up, front half on the bed, back half off. He closed his eyes in pleasure as Blueblood’s lips closed around his flare. Trenderhoof’s cock was much smaller and slimmer than the prince’s, and he had no trouble sucking it. The prince’s tongue danced around the edge of the flare, sending fiery tingles up the shaft. Trenderhoof began to buck his hips, and Blueblood’s hooves rose to his slight little ass, pushing on it, Encouraging him to thrust harder.

He looked down under his body. He could see his cock vanishing into Blueblood’s face, balls swaying as he thrust. Oh, Faust, there was the bulge of his flare, pushing down into Blueblood’s throat. If Trenderhoof’s modest cock could do that what must Blueblood’s have looked like inside his own?

Trenderhoof felt something slimy bump his forehead. He looked up, and saw Blueblood’s dick bobbing in front of his face, still wet with Trender’s spit and sticky with cum, but hard again. He groaned, held it still with his magic, and started to lick it. It tasted like Blueblood’s jizz, and Trenderhoof loved it. He thrust and thrust until his balls were bumping Blueblood’s nose. The prince’s flare was in his muzzle again, filling his whole mouth. His shaft sang with pleasure as the royal throat swallowed around it, milking it and squeezing it.

Trenderhoof’s balls began to tighten, and fire began to build deep in his groin. A burning wave of pleasure rolled through him, and he jammed himself into Blueblood’s face, his cock pulsing as he came, shooting squirt after squirt into the handsome prince’s belly.

“Cuuuummmm,’ purred Blueblood, as Trenderhoof’s limp cock slid out of his mouth with a soft pop.

“Delicious, delicious cum,” agreed Trenderhoof.

“Mmmm, I’m definitely glad I didn’t murder you. Do you like it up the ass, filthy commoner?”

Trender looked at the fat, drooling shaft bobbing in front of his nose. “Please tell me you’re going to use lube.”

Author's Note

Next time: More adventures in Turkey! Trender takes it up the ass! Trender gets in trouble! Blueblood is psychotic! Probably lots more sex!

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