Zebrican Life

Chapter 7

Zecora hummed happily to herself whilst brewing on her cauldron. On a table to the side rested several bottles of different kinds of potion never before seen before she began producing them. They would be taken to the markets and sold for a great profit. Some would go to her family, some to the royal coffers, and the rest would go into her foundation to help spread her knowledge and tutor wiser, stronger, better Shamans for Zebrica.

Potions of all kinds, remedies, ointments, medical mixes and much, much more. It was the tradition that no Princess could pursue profit or anything besides their royal duties. But for Zecora that tradition had been broken at Zhamir’s insistence and because no one wanted to miss out on the chance to exploit her powers and pass them on.

Not that the King, Zhulka, would ever say no to his newest daughter-in-law.

“Another batch is ready for storage. Everyone, secure the vials and ready your courage,” Zecora called as she pulled the ladle out of the cauldron and began to pour its contents down a wooden aqueduct of her making.

“Yes, Princess Zainabu,” her assistants said in unison, ready to fill the vials of the precious potion their Princess had finished making.

Zecora smiled widely, watching the blue liquid gently pour out of her cauldron and flow like a river would on a stream. That was another thing that had changed after marrying Zhamir and becoming a Princess. By tradition, she had to renounce her old name and choose a new one. She had picked Zainabu, the name of one of the greatest Shamans in the history of Zebrica and her personal hero after learning of her through her studies.

She, of course, still used her old name as did Zhamir, though in private. But outside of Zebrica, she was still Zecora, more so to her friends in Ponyville. Her smile turned nostalgic at the memories. Six months had passed since her marriage and everything was going perfectly in her life. She had been prepared for anything, political rival doing underhanded moves, jealousy within the family, backstabbing, and many more horrible scenarios.

But surprisingly and to her great delight, that was not the case. The jealousy she was expecting from the wives of the other Princes for ‘overshadowing them’ never came. In fact, they openly accepted her. The Royal Family welcomed her as truly one of their own. The greedy nobles came, yes, but not with threats or petty plans to dispose of her, but with gold and gems for her to use; an investment in her art, skills, and prowess as the most powerful Shaman to have ever graced Zebrica.

True, she was regarded as odd and strange because of her lack of proper manners or respect to the traditions so deeply ingrained in zebra culture, more so as she was being groomed to be the next Queen once Zhulka stepped down or died, giving Zhamir the throne. Nevertheless, her power and standing afforded her the benefit of having those tiny defects overlooked.

More than that, the populace at large supported and loved her after her marriage to Zhamir became public knowledge with the choosing of her new name. Of course, since she was a true Princess and the Princess of the Realm, no less, she had to wear her jewelry everywhere, not that she ever took Zhamir’s mementos off before, though they were different, the fact that they represented their union made them equally special to her.

The cauldron laid empty after a few more moments and every drop of the potion safely stored in numerous vials for safekeeping and sale.

“Princess Zainabu, with this batch completed, your duties for the day have concluded. What do you wish to do now?” Her personal aide announced.

“To know where my husband is currently at is my desire. Tell me, do you know where I can find my fire?” She asked.

“Prince Zhamir is currently occupied with a meeting tending to several chiefs. He won’t be available for a few hours, my Princess,” the aide replied.

Zecora nodded. Saddened by the news but unwilling to show it, she turned her attention to her rear.

She admired her gaping holes, her shaved tail, and the stinky cum still leaking from within her pussy and asshole, proof of her husband’s virility and love. She felt her heart soar for a moment as she remembered the wonderful times she had spent at Zhamir’s side during their months together now as husband and wife. Mostly with him filling her holes at every chance they had.

Of course, not all was good. Her sensitive nose had taken a true beating as the potent, stinky, smelly aroma of his virile cum mixed with the oils and living next to other mares that stank just as much as she did had nearly caused her to fall unconscious on many occasions. But it seemed the Gods and the Spirits took pity on her or showed their favor because, one morning not two weeks ago, she woke up without her nose hurting. In fact, she had nearly lost her sense of smell completely. Even the most potent of stinky smells were nothing more than perfume to her weak sense.

She at first feared how that would impact her skills as a Shaman but, to her delight (and confusion) her smelling sense remained intact when it came to brewing her potions, formulas, solutions, and more. Not wishing to seek an explanation as to why it had happened, she merely accepted it and gave abundant offerings to the Gods and the Spirits for their gift.

She wasn’t ignorant to the fact that almost every mare had their sense of smell greatly diminished or even outright lost it after years of being submerged in an ambient where dozens if not hundreds of pungent, incredibly stinky, and nose-piercing stenches coalesced into a miasma of smells that assaulted them at all times. But now, she could not only survive but thoroughly enjoy and embrace the stinky stench of her bottom as it was proof of their love.

Even now, even though it was faint, she could still smell the musky scent of her beloved husband on her. Not only had she started to use oils and perfumes with extracts of his scent; cum and sweat for the most part, but, by Royal Tradition, he had to mark his scent on her from time to time. And the best way for it to happen was to simply rub his sweaty anus against her face, head, and flanks, which had turned into a smell she prized above everything else now that her nose didn’t hurt.

It was an ever-present reminder that she belonged to him, that she was his wife, and they would be together forever, Spirits willing.

But then she remembered her husband would be occupied for hours to come and that her duties for the day had been concluded. Suddenly, the doors opened to reveal the husband of one of her sisters-in-law walking in.

“Honey, you’re early!” She called, practically jumping on her hooves from excitement. The two kissed before he took a step back.

“Ass up,” he ordered. Instantly, her wife nodded and happily turned around, showing her gaping holes to him. He began sniffing and licking her bottom, his cock slapping against his belly as he did so. Then, he pulled out the translucid anal plug she was carrying and quickly mounted her.

Zecora and the rest of her companions went on about their duties, giving little mind to the moaning couple as he fucked her right in the middle of her laboratory. When he was done, he filled her rear with his cum and then pulled out, several stains dropping to the floor after exiting his wife’s anus. Then, he plugged her anus with her toy once more, sealing the cum inside to properly stink her bum from within.

Before leaving, they shared another kiss and he kissed her bloated stomach, big and gravid with a foal.

Tradition demanded that a wife had to be submissive and loyal to her husband. But that was even more so expected and enforced in the nobility and, of course, the Royal Family. And for a Prince that came even more pronounced. His power, position, and authority, even if he was regarded as an odd one and far more unorthodox than most others, he had rules and traditions to follow. As such, she couldn’t be out of turn least her actions stain his reputation, no matter her own great and prestigious status.

And she wouldn’t dream of doing that to her Zhamir. She was obedient, submissive, loyal, and behaved in accordance to what the traditions dictated. It was hard from uncommon, in fact, it was more than expected for the Prince to mate her whenever, wherever he pleased. Not that she would ever oppose him in the first place since it not only gave them the perfect chance to express their love without boundaries but also made it evident how strong their union was to everyone in addition to make her rear stinky all the time.

A necessity more than anything else for the vast majority of nobility as a wife with stinky rears and heads was also seen as a status symbol. Even the Queen was no exception as she too had to be submissive and subservient to her husband, the King. But to her, it didn’t matter much. They could show how much they loved each other and no matter how much Zhamir filled her holes, whatever leaked outside and fell onto the ground; a no-issue for them as the servants would clean it up anyways.

Zecora was about to decide on what to do next when another stallion walked into the room. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it was her husband. His head was bald on the top, leaving only the sides of his head and the back of his neck, with a little bit of his mane still attached to it. The reason for his new appearance came to mind instantly:

It had been a long, arduous day of preparations, dealings, and making sure everything was perfect. Now, she stood next to her husband, Zhamir, alongside the rest of the Royal Family, including Zhulka and Velia, their sons and daughters, extended family, many influential nobles, and other figures of importance and influence. All of them were in the central plaza, cleared for that day’s event.

In front of them was an elder, the same one that oversaw their union, leading a speech. “A decade has passed since this holiest of events, the Sanctimonium of Union and Love graced our lands. Now, the time has come once more for our people to experience it once more. Some are veterans, blessed to have lived through many such events, for others, it will be the first time. However, all married couples are blessed during this day,” clearing his throat, several servants came forth carrying a potion on their backs.

The elder continued. “Wives, take your potions so the ritual may begin. A stallion’s mane is a beacon of pride and strength. Nevertheless, to strengthen your union, for a full month his top will go bald, just as you are. Wives, pour the balding potion onto their heads!” He commanded with boisterous vigor.

The mares did so, pouring the potion over their husbands’ heads. The potion worked on contact, instantly removing most of their manes and leaving their tops bald. The bystanders that had never seen the event before gasped in surprise.

Zhamir rubbed the bald part of his head and played with his little tuff of mane at the back for a few seconds after the potion had made its work and smirked. “I think it suits me, don’t you think so, my love?”

“No matter if you have a mane or not, my love for you will not diminish. You are the fire in my heart, from start to finish.”

They then nuzzled and kissed before he wordlessly moved to sniff and lick her bottom, making her moan in delight. Then, he focused entirely on her rear by pushing his muzzle into her wide-open asshole; deeply sniffing and licking her interior.

“Aaahhhh! Ahhhhh! Z-Zhamir!” She moaned, uncaring that she broke her Shaman speech just to express how much she loved it. It wasn’t like anyone would even care, as the entire square was filled with such moans as every other wife present was given similar treatments as her. It didn’t take long for a mare to reach climax, quickly followed by another and then another until she reached her climax; her love juices spilling onto the floor without a trace of regret or shame.

Then, Zhamir pulled back and mounted her. Whatever was happening around her didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that her stallion desires to rut her and she, being his submissive, beautiful wife, would welcome the chance to get fucked again by him. With a single thrust, his length reached all the way inside her rectum until his hips collided with her rump. Then he began to thrust quickly and wantonly.

Heavy moaning was heard throughout the entire plaza as dozens of mares were publically fucked by their husbands. It continued until each stallion filled the rear and pussy of his wife once. Zecora was no exception and by the time Zhamir dismounted her, her holes had been left leaking, stinky, trembling, and gaping.

“Now, husbands, drink the second potion, as to ensure your manes will not grow a single hair until the end of the month!” The elder declared and the stallions obeyed. After drinking the potion, the stallion nuzzled with their wives for a moment before the mares presented their cum-leaking, stinky, smelly, gaping rears to them and they sniffed at them. “May the Santimonium commence!”

Zecora felt giddy at the memory before she rushed to meet her husband. They nuzzled and shared a deep, passionate kiss. She felt like she could fly every time they could share their love and feel loved by her husband. Never before in her life could she have imagined such happiness was possible, and now she truly understood why her parents spent every possible second they could together. A few moments after, they pulled apart and Zhamir looked her in the eye reflecting all the love and adoration he had for her.

“Hey, honey, I finished early. I see that you are also done with your duties. Is everything going according to your desires?” He asked.

Zecora nodded. “Many things have occurred but none of them are bad. Indeed! Progress has been swift and without delay, I cannot be at all mad!”

“The foundation, the teaching programs, the vaaaaast income through your potions, the new books, the new fields of study for Shamans… I do not deserve you at my side. What have I accomplished that compares to the brilliance of your deeds?” He chuckled. “I’m so proud of you, my Zainabu. My Zecora,” they kissed again before he whispered next to her ear. “Have you done what I ordered you to do?”

“Yes,” she replied, her shaven tail wiggling in excitement.

“Good. You’re such a good wife, Zecora,” pulling back, he cleared his throat. “I think it is time for us to take a walk. You need to put on the rest of your royal regalia first, Zainabu.”

“Of course, my husband, I’ll put it at once. I shall not be found lacking, not even in romance,” she replied, obeying without question or hesitation. After all, her husband had commanded so and it would be scandalous for her to go out without her regalia regardless. A few moments later, she was ready and the two left the room side by side, nuzzling quietly while Zhamir sniffed her stinky bald head; more than enjoying the chance to be next to his wife.

Chapter 7 End.

Author's Note

Special thanks to anyone that read this!