Chapters Zebrican Life
Chapter 1
The sun shining brightly in the sky, the warm winds blowing everywhere making the grasslands dance in its wake, the dusty aroma of a land that was home to strange peoples with strange customs and even stranger affiliations. A land that once, long ago, ensured that only the brutal, the cunning, and the deceitful could survive but that had been tamed into a new prosperous, albeit isolated nation.
Zebrica.
For many, Zebrica was a dry, scorching land that, while fertile, was not worth bothering with. For others, it was a beautiful landscape filled with life, danger, and adventure.
For Zecora, it was the home she had left many years ago to pursue her dreams. But now that she had accomplished that goal, it was time to go back home, if only for a little while. As she approached the outskirts of her tribe, she could see the farmlands being tended and the animals being tended for their produce. Removing her cloak, she instantly got a few curious glances and her share fair of stares as she advanced, but they weren’t malicious or petty.
Arriving at the gates of her tribe, the guards instantly moved to intercept her.
“Halt, who goes there?” One of the guards asked.
“A weary traveler that has come from a faraway land. One that seeks shelter, food, and a place to rest, not stand,” Zecora replied, smiling at the guards.
“P-Pardon us, Shaman!” The guards instantly backed down and bowed to her in utmost respect. “We were unaware we would be receiving the visit of a Shaman this day. Are you perhaps here to visit Shaman Zhilia?” As he asked that question, the gates were opened.
She nodded. “Indeed I have, for a long time has passed without seeing her face. And, if I’m lucky, I can meet my father without giving chase,” she said.
“Holy Spirits… Zecora?” Another guard said, making the others murmur. “Is it really you, Zecora?”
“A long time has passed and my name still rings in your tongue? How fortunate I am to have a friend standing here from the time I was young,” she giggled. “Hello, Fior, how are you doing in your life? I hope it has been good and that you’ve found a wife.”
“O-Oh! Yes, yes! You honor me, Shaman! I mean, Zecora! I mean… errr, yes, thank you I have a wife and three wonderful offspring!” Fior exclaimed, elated beyond belief. “I can’t believe that you would remember my name after all this time, Zecora. Sir, may I escort the Shaman to her household?”
“You may. It is good to see you again, Zecora. And now, you’re a Shaman through and through. I can feel the power you carry,” the first guard said, bowing his head again in respect.
Zecora nodded, offering the guards a smile while Fior signaled her to follow him. Taking his kind gesture of friendship, she stepped past the gates of her tribe, the Spirit Seekers Tribe, and her heart throbbed with an unfamiliar dread. For a moment she considered turning back and return to her home in the Everfree forest, but the momentary fear was extinguished almost as soon as it appeared.
With a steady pace, the duo walked through the ample streets where Zecora could see how much things have changed and how much things remained the same since her departure. There were stalls filled with the normal production of the tribe: masks, pots, ceramics, small statues representing several types of spirits, various decorations, some metalworks like jewelry and rings, and a limited variety of foods. What was new, however, were the cleary imported Equestrian goods that some stalls were selling.
“I see Zebrica has been opening its borders more since my departure long ago. Pray tell, my old friend, has this change come with any lingering woe?” She asked, curiously.
“Not at all. Prince Zhamir has pushed for further cooperation with Equestria for years now. I don’t know the full details, lowly tribe’s guard that I am, but it has been a tough fight for him, that much I can tell you, but his successful politicking show in those stalls all over Zebrica. They are quite popular, especially the anal-dock rings and the see-through plugs. My wife uses a ring and I couldn’t be happier!” Fior answer, his cock unsheathing itself at the thought of his lovely wife’s bottom.
Zecora didn’t pry any further and merely hummed in approval, knowing full well the ever-shifting fashion senses in Equestria, though she was happy to hear that her adoptive home did its research on what could appeal to her homeland the best.
As they continued to walk, she noticed mares, all of them bald with the exception of the young foals, and with their anuses and pussies spread wide and exposed thanks to ritualistic rings to keep them that way. Some stallions were courting mares, others were mounting their wives or beloveds right there and there in the middle of the street. The more they approached the household of her parents, the more familiar faces she came across, all of them greeting her and she did the same with polite nods and smiles, thanking their pleasantries in kind.
Zecora felt a sense of regret upon seeing many foals running and playing, couples showing their love, and her people working hard to build a better, brighter tomorrow. But that was replaced by joy upon seeing her old household, much, much bigger than she remembered it being.
“Well, Zecora, this is as far as I come. A gentle breeze may follow your path, blessed Shaman,” Fior said, bowing his head in respect. “It was good to see you again.”
Zecora nodded, offering her old foalhood friend a nod before he moved away, likely returning to his post. Taking the rest of the steps on her own, she stood in front of her home’s door. Like the vast majority of the houses, it was round and vast, having a nice area around it to allow a small private garden or a play zone for foals. Judging by the new size of the house she grew up in, it had expanded at least twice its original size and added a second floor on top of it; quite the rarity amongst her tribe but not unfeasible for those wealthy enough to afford it.
Knocking at the door, she heard the clamoring of many hooves before a sweet, young voice called.
“Who is it?”
“A visitor from a faraway land. Open now, before my hooves turn to sand,” she talked back and could hear a gasp followed by the door locks clanging open to then let the wooden barrier part and reveal a small, young filly. “Hello there, little one. Is this the house I seek for you to stand in stun?”
“MOOOOMMA! Moooomma! Big sister Zecora is here!” She cried out, tears forming in her eyes as she darted inside the house.
Zecora let herself into her old household and admired its beauty. Only then she realized it was virtually identical to her house in the Everfree. She smiled upon seeing the welcoming masks, especially the one representing familial unity and below it a cacophony of pictures of the family she left behind. Some faces she recognized but there were a lot more that she did not. Her attention was shifted elsewhere when she heard several hoofsteps running towards her. The first thing she saw was a small sea of foals of various ages running around an older but beautiful mare, her mother.
As they approached, she noticed that her sisters and mother were all bald, both their heads and tail lacking any hair unlike hers, but her two youngest sisters lacked the anal rings that kept them exposed, since they were still too young to attend their ritual. Her brothers were starting to show their power and growth, becoming handsome males. The only ones not present were her oldest brother and her father. As if invoking them, they appeared from the same path her mother and younger siblings had, both of them looking strong and dirty.
“Do mine eyes deceive me and are you a mirage? Zecora, my dear, is it really you that assaults my heart with such barrage?” Her mother asked.
“It is me, indeed, dearest mother. Although, if you wish, I can leave again if you were expecting another?” Zecora offered in a teasing tone, making her mother laugh and then close the distance between them so they could hug and nuzzle each other. It was then that Zecora got the first whiff of her mother’s stinky musk after several years of absence. It wasn’t a bad kind of stinky either, just potent and quite pungent. Her short fur was bright and shiny thanks to the solutions to keep her head that way and stinky, too.
As they stepped back, ending their hug after a minute or two, Zecora noticed her mother’s bald tail, also shiny and carefully kept just as much as her head. As it was tradition, she also lacked eyebrows. She didn’t need to see it but she knew full well her asshole and pussy were spread wide and the slight stench she got from them was proof enough.
“Mamma, mamma, why auntie Zecora no has gaping pussy or bum-bum?” A little bald filly, about eight years old, asked pointing at her behind. It was only then that Zecora noticed her three siblings she knew, all younger than her, had also arrived and her oldest sister stepped up.
“Because she was far, far away, honey. She was working hard to become the greatest Shaman in Zebrica and couldn’t prepare to be a wife like other mares,” she replied, stepping forth. “It’s good to see you, Zecora.”
“I say the same, dearest Kossal, such a long time it has been. I see you have been busy, with a foal that comes to glean!” Zecora chanted, picking the filly and kissing her cheek. Since she was already eight, classes on how to become a good wife in the future had started and that meant that her mane and tail had been shaven. Letting the filly down, she counted the number of foals and turned to her sister. “How many of these darling jewels are yours? Even I doubt that our parents can create so many behind closed doors.”
“Three are mine, two others belong to Manali, and a final one belongs to Shusheki. Some of our brothers also have foals, but their wives are at home. We were here for a friendly family visit!” Kossal replied before turning to the side, flickering her tail to properly reveal her gaping, stinky holes. “Do you remember Fior? He’s my husband now!”
“Treachery and deceit! He never told me you were his wife! I met him on my arrival and he escorted me so I met no strife!” Zecora replied. There was some laughter and then Zecora noticed her sister’s swaying belly. She didn’t need to say anything as Kossal felt her gaze on her.
“Yes, my husband can be quite playful and mischievous. As you can see, I’m already expecting another one of his foals,” she let out a heavenly sigh and rubbed her growing stomach. “I love getting pregnant and I love giving birth to my adorable foals. Being a mother is the best thing in my life.”
“Same here,” another sister said. “Being a housewife and a mother full-time is so fulfilling. And the busiest job there is! Honestly, mother, how can you take care of so many foals now?” Their mother merely giggled in response.
“And here!” The youngest of the adult and married sisters said. “I can’t wait to be a mother again~,” she said through a fierce blush.
“I’ll bring my little tykes tomorrow, Zecora! You’re gonna love your nephews and niece!” One of her brothers exclaimed.
“Ha, piss off! Big sis is going to see my kid first, don’t shun me just because I just got married last year and only have one foal!” Another one countered.
Zecora laughed and then moved to hug her family, one by one, from the smallest foal and ending with her older brother and father. As she hugged her beloved father and brother, she couldn’t help but find it amusing how different things on Zebrica were compared to Ponyville and Equestria at large. Some similarities were shared, as they didn’t show any harm on public sex nor did they mind mares showing off their bits, but it wasn’t a social norm or tradition to be exposed as mares did on Zebrica. In her mind, she preferred the lifestyle in Equestria, where mares were the dominant sex but everyone, male or female, had the same liberties, chances, and obligations, which were jarring to her at the start (even if ponies tended to be a bit sheltered and cowardly on occasion.
“Have you come looking for a suitor and give me grandfoals, or is your visit just that, a visit?” Her father asked, kissing her cheek in the process. “Gods above, look at you, Zecora. All grown up and a full-fledged Shaman. You make your father proud, my striped princess.”
“Many travels and many trials I have faced during my time in Equestria, father. My knowledge did not come free and my life was at stake, near making me fother. But now I’ve returned, armed and prepared to help my family, people, and home. I may stay or I may leave again-” she stopped for a moment, memories flashing before her eyes before she continued. “- but I will do my best so that Zebrica may rise as ocean foam.”
“Powerful you are, my lovely child, far more than I or any other Shaman before on the widespread of our nation. I can sense it, see it, and taste it, you should stay and serve under the King’s rule and secure your station. No other mare has had such strength or the air of a king to whisper truths and aid, your trip to Equestria has served you more than anything you could find here by trade,” her mother finally spoke up, praising her daughter as tears formed on her eyes. “Long ago you left us, a mere child, rebellious, thirsty of not tradition but of knowledge! Now you return, the fruits of toils present in your aura, this I acknowledge,” she finished by doing a respectful bow that caused everyone to gasp in surprise.
“Mother, please, do not bow before me! No mother should ever do so before a daughter!” Zecora said in a panic, forgetting to rhyme as she too felt like crying.
“Shush, all of you, impudent children!” Her mother said, not with anger but with mirth. “I see no daughter in front me, not now, not hidden. I only see a mare, a true Shaman; beautiful and powerful like the jaws of a caiman,” she said.
Zecora looked at her mother, the gorgeous adult mare in front of her. The same mare that had birthed her when she was only nineteen, that had already birthed her older brother, and that had now birthed all of her siblings. Four were them when she left and now eight they were on her return, she could tell; the smell of her mother marked on them. She wished to weep and cry, but her desire to learn and become the most powerful Shaman in the history of Zebrica was greater than the love she had for her country and tribe… greater still for the love of her life.
The roots had been taken when she was only eight and her lesson of the household and how to be a wife about to start. She had rejected them outright in favor of helping her mother in her work and learning from her to be a Shaman; the magic, the mystery, and the power beckoning to her. She had learned, fast and swift, and had left her home behind at a mere fourteen years of age for Equestria, to continue her studies in isolation in the land where magic and the Spirits were strongest in the world. Her parents never complained and aided her decision… even her beloved helped her, giving her a memento to remember him by; her golden ring necklace, a symbol of his love and of hers as well.
She rushed to hug her mother once more, glad to be back now that her mission was over, at least, for the time being. Then, suddenly, a desperate knock was heard and Zecora let go of her mother, silently going to answer the call. Upon opening the door, she found a tall, handsome stallion with piercing purple eyes. His breath was ragged and some sweat could be seen running down his handsome face. Behind him, a small patrol of Kingsguard stood at the ready, confused evident on their faces.
Then, they blinked as they stared into each other’s eyes.
“Zecora…”
“Zhamir…”
Chapter 1 End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone that read this!
Zebrican Life
Chapter 2
The Shaman and the Prince stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like eons. Aquamarine meeting vibrant purple as their very breaths were stolen from them. It wasn’t until the older Shaman spoke that they realized their position.
“It seems that our presence isn’t required now. Everyone, please, let’s move from here to avoid standing like a cow,” Zecora’s mother said, unable to contain the humor and joy in her voice. The rest didn’t protest and obeyed the order of the wise Shaman, leaving Zecora and Zhamir alone.
“May… may I come in?” Zhamir asked after a minute of silence.
Zecora nodded, a knot tied in her throat prevented her from speaking but she stepped aside, giving him access to her parent’s home. He quickly made his way inside and sat on one of the comfortable leather couches.
“So the rumors were true… you’re back, Zecora,” Zhamir said, not wishing to beat around the bush. “When I heard the gossip about a certain Shaman returning, one who wasn’t bald of head or tail nor exposed, I knew it had to be you.”
“Many moons have passed since our parting eleven years ago, Zha--My Prince. I am curious that you are here and not in the capital, where you’ve dwelled ever-since,” Zecora asked, sitting in front of him.
“Royal business, actually. Nothing more than a happy coincidence, I assure you,” he smiled widely, unwilling and unable to contain his merriment. “Or maybe a sign of the Spirits and Fate itself?”
“The work of the Spirits it is not, for I do not hear their song. Of Fate, the shrewd mistress, there’s no telling if it right or wrong. With things as there are and strife as it were, what brings you to this, my childhood home? I’m sure there are more important subjects requiring your attention unless you are now free to roam?”
“In a sense. I’m in no rush for the throne and I’d rather let any of my brothers take it from my hooves. But they all think I’m the best suited for it. I’d rather live comfortably and marry a beautiful mare whom I can fill with many beautiful foals,” he admitted.
“A charmer as always, I see. Do not joke or lie for my sake, my Prince, a handsome stud like yourself, unwed? I’d spill my tea!,” Zecora joked, despite ow much it hurt her heart to say those words, she had to face reality.
He grinned and blushed at the same time, trying to look imposing, strong, confident, but ended up looking cute, disheveled, and a bit shy. Clearing his throat, he stammered the first few words that came out of his mouth. “W-Well, f-funny you s-should mention that, yes. Ehem, Zecora… I’ve been waiting for you, just like I promised.”
“...Pardon?”
“I’ve been waiting for your return, my love,” he admitted. “It has been a rough and difficult wait, but finally, you’re here. You’ve returned to me, to us, to Zebrica,” his smile threatened to tear his face in half, but the sheer joy reflected on his eyes told the truth. “I see you still wear my memento,” he pointed at her neck-rings. “Pray tell, is that a sign that you have also waited for me, my love?”
“...You are foolish and childish, Zhamir, to have waited for me, not knowing if I would return? What can I offer you now that I’m past my years of abundant fertility have passed and I cannot provide the family you yearn?” Zecora asked, shocked, angry, surprised, happy, and flustered all at the same time.
“Perhaps. You wouldn’t believe how many mares have presented their stinky nethers to me. One time, the daughter of a high noble shaved her head right in front of me to express her love. It was a very touching moment and it broke my heart to reject it. But there is only one in my heart, and that one is you, Zecora,” leaning back, he relaxed. “But enough about me. Tell me, are you okay? Have you finished your training?”
Zecora, through a massive blush, nodded. She fought against her feelings for a few moments eventually managing to get a hold of herself. “Remember when we first met? We were young and full of energy, you were the first I knew that at your side I’d fear no fret. Little more than foals we were at the time, yet our parents never sought to pull us apart. A noble Prince and heir to the throne, the daughter of a renowned and respected Shaman whose fame was set in stone.”
Zhamir laughed. “I love your family and I deeply respect your mother, Zecora. She’s an extremely powerful Shaman and a close friend of my father,” he shook his head. “Those were the times without having to worry about the lives of our nation, the burdens of royalty, or so much politics! We were just foals and the best of friends,” he looked at her, intently. “You’d be a fantastic Head Shaman.”
Zecora shivered at the praise. Regardless of her actual role, the Queen had the honorary title of Head Shaman even if she wasn’t a Shaman herself. But it was part of the Queen’s duty to know all of their rituals to fulfill that job. The praise and unspoken implications of it did not elude her, though she doubted her beloved was trying to be subtle about it. “You were never one for subtly if my memory serves right. I’m glad that under that handsome exterior the same mischievous Zhamir remains bright.”
Reaching for two empty cups of tea, she smiled at Zhamir getting his attention. With a wave of her hoof, the cups were filled with hot, steaming tea. Zhamir nearly leaped from his seat at the demonstration.
“T-That shouldn’t be!” He stammered. “Spirits, Zecora, just how powerful have you become?” He asked, not in fear, but in awe.
Zecora closed her eyes, remembering all of her pleasant experiences in Equestria, all that she learned, and the friends she had made. “Extremely powerful the Spirits of Magic, Natura, Life, Death, and Harmony are in Equestria, my communion with them in that land was deep, ethereal. Many secrets I uncovered and many more are left to be seen, but my time in that land has come to a retreat, immaterial. What I have learned must be taught and passed in our land. Not to reject our past or knowledge, but further them with that which lies afar; to run, not stand.”
Zhamir jumped to his hooves, smiling widely. “I’m so happy to hear that! Zebrica is wonderful and I want the rest of the world to see its beauty and for Zebrica to see the wonderful beauty of the world as you have Zecora!”
She nodded. “I agree with your words, my charming Prince. I have heard rumors of your exploits, but what you want to achieve, your father, the King, you must convince.”
He sighed. “My father is wise and one of the greatest Kings Zebrica has had the joy to be ruled over by since Zhaka the Ambitious. But he is too hold up on traditions and fearful of the outside world. There are dangers to be sure, but the wonders are so much more beautiful!”
“Ah,” she began, knowing where he was heading. “I understand what your intentions are. You wish for me to come to him and show him my power, to share my knowledge and let him see me like a shining star?”
“My love, you should know by now that no star could ever shine brighter than you,” he said in a flirtatious tone, smiling sheepishly at her.
Zecora blushed so hard she nearly fainted but after drinking her tea, she calmed down enough to continue. “Let’s say I agree with your plan and I travel with you to the capital to see the King, your father. What could I, a Shaman that left her homeland and has rejected our traditions to slake her ambition, offer him to make our land prosper?”
“Just be yourself, my love. Then, after you convince him, maybe… maybe you’ll allow me to court you?” He asked, for the first time losing his suave tone and charming attitude.
Zecora looked at Zhamir, her old flame, for long seconds. Gone was the charming prince; replaced by the stubborn, humble, and easy-going colt she fell in love with, her friend, and the stallion that had assaulted her dreams on countless nights. “...Perhaps… I can allow such a thing if we are to succeed? The fact remains, I am a mare, and thus must make a great deed.”
Zhamir nodded. “Father may be traditionalist, but he’s quite open-minded,” Zhamir went silent for a moment as he sat down again and leaned back taking a sip out of his tea. “I wonder how awful Zebrica would be now without Zhaka the Ambitious and his rise to power. We’d be little better than animals,” he scoffed, angrily, before swaying his head slowly in a sorry way. “Hard to believe it happened almost a thousand years ago, right? The record-keeping of those time was pathetic, but from what I’ve been able to piece together, Zhaka did it because he truly wanted things to change, not just out of fear that Celestia, Sun Goddess made Flesh, would strike Zebrica down as she had done with Nightmare Moon like most historians claim.”
“Those were dark times for mares and stallions alike, it must be said. Life was much harder, periful, dangerous to ours today, a challenge a day just to be fed. I’m sure they viewed their actions as logical, how could they not without knowledge of what we know today to be ethnological?” Zecora offered, not excusing the past but seeing through their position.
“Perhaps… but treating mares, the very pillar of our society and the stability of every home as little more than property and slaves? Barbaric! Praise be to Shaka the Ambitious! For he denoted the changes and the movements Zebrica needed to shine bright and stand proudly today!”
Zecora nodded in understanding. Thanks to her mother being a fairly powerful Shaman and also happened to be a friend of the Queen meant she was well known and respected in the court and, of course, often employed by the Royal Family for rituals of all sorts. She remembered bitterly for a moment when Zhamir had to leave for his pilgrimage, a rite of passage for all males to take; it was one of the motives why she found the strength to leave her home behind and go fulfill her dream of furthering the knowledge of being a Shaman. If he had not… maybe she would’ve stayed and, despite opposing the traditions, she would’ve gone through with them just for him, her love.
Shaking her head at the route her thoughts had diverged, she focused again on what he had said. And, again, thanks to her mother’s position within the Court, she was able to study many things, including history. She was appalled at how males used to treat mares almost a thousand years ago. Things to breed warriors, obey the males, and serve them as they saw fit. The very concept of marriage was alien to them as at any time a male could simply take any female he wished, impregnate her, and be done with it.
It was the great Zhaka the Ambitious, the ancestor of her beloved Zhamir, that had put an end to that after uniting all the tribes under a single banner and under his rule and created the nation of Zebrica. Or rather, the dream of the nation that one day would become Zebrica. He was remembered for many things, but his greatest achievement was when he outright made it illegal to treat mares and females badly.
And not only that, he implemented sweeping changes to the societal structure of tribes in one fell swoop. Now united and having to deal with minimal in-fighting, he gave out his reason and it was so simple but true no one could deny it. ‘Mares are the ones keeping the house standing, every stallion must give them the respect they deserve’. And thus, everything changed. Of course, there was opposition at first, but most supported their First King.
Slowly but surely things began to change over the years, decades, and centuries. Mares went from being slaves, to domestic caretakers, to household guardians, and finally to the pillars of society. ‘A happy home has a happy mare’ became the norm. Mares gained the freedom to wear what they wanted and in time even own and buy things that they wanted. Then came branching their occupation options outside mere housekeeping and gathering.
Some began to join the hunters as spotters, others took tanning, smelting, crafting, until, eventually, they could practically do any job they wanted in the current day. There were mares that served as soldiers and held official rankings, some tribes were ruled by mares, and other more stallion-dominated jobs. But the vast majority preferred roles that kept them close to their household, like helping their husband with whatever was their job by taking the menial tasks such as accounting, cleaning, balancing, secretary, and such. Other jobs became almost the sole domain of mares, such as nursing, education, and simple crafting.
Compared to the sheer levels of ignorance and limited existence mares had endured before Zhaka, it was a blessing they couldn’t be grateful enough for. But even so, nearly every mare, no matter their job (if they had one) almost universally leaned towards a more simple lifestyle of being a housewife, devoting themselves to help their husbands, get fucked, get pregnant, raise children, and contribute that way to society.
And unlike those horrid times, they weren’t forced to do it, as they simply enjoyed it. Perhaps it was due to the fact that marriage became a common practice, stallions stopped seeing mares universally as playthings and instead saw them as equals and lusted only after their chosen mate. But there was one role that not even before the times of Zhaka had changed, and that was being a Shaman. Once the only way for any apt enough mare to gain power and recognition was now a source of pride in which mares had a complete monopoly over, and not because there weren’t stallions that had tried to become Shamans, but it simply never worked, the Spirits never conveyed to them their secrets and communing was next to impossible for some unexplained reason.
But it didn’t matter as their once barbaric society had found itself in a near-perfect balance after almost a millennia since The Great Unification. Males occupied themselves with the heavier and most difficult aspects of society at all levels, occupying positions of leadership, manual labor, economy, and engineering. Females tended to the household, helped their husbands, took most positions of assistance, diplomacy, schooling, and, of course, spirituality.
“If it must be done, then I shall go with you to visit the King. But not now and not for some time; long my journey has been and I wish to spend time with my kin; give me some days to enjoy their company and I shall aid you in your quest and all the changes it may bring,” she replied.
“And after that… if we are successful, may I have permission to court you, my love?” Zhamir asked with a smile.
Zecora sighed and looked away, blushing fiercely. “I promise not what the future may be between us. All I can say is that… I do not oppose that that prospect can be a plus.”
Chapter 2 End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone that read this!
Zebrican Life
Chapter 4
Zecora and Zhamir entered the castle after their stroll through the plazas of Zhakalior. It amazed her how the easy-going attitude of her beloved changed so abruptly to a serious, mature, focused one. Despite everything that had happened, for a moment she had forgotten that Zhamir was a Prince and was beloved by the people and sought after by almost every noble.
“My Prince, you have arrived,” the Commander of the guards said, bowing down before the pair. “Please, enter, your father is most eagerly awaiting your arrival and that of Shaman Zecora.”
“Then let us not delay any further,” Zhamir replied, nodding at the Commander who then signaled the guards in charge of the doors to open them. As they entered the throne room, the heavy scent of incense, oils, and the stinky scent of mares and other various herbs hit Zecora with full force, nearly causing her to lose her balance for a moment. But as soon as it happened, she regained full control of her senses just in time to see the King sitting on his throne, flanked by two guards, a server, and, of course, the Queen wearing a traditional tribal set.
She also noticed two of Zhamir’s younger brothers and his five sisters sitting at the other side of the room with other attendees to the Head Shaman. There were also several other figures scattered around the place, no doubt noble petitioners set aside for the moment while the King talked with his son and Zecora. Still, that didn’t prevent the few whispers and murmurs directed at her from surfacing.
“Ah, my son, I hope your visit to the Vahulu Tribe has been met with success?” The King, an older version of Zhamir but still strong, handsome, and imposing, said as he stood up and went to hug him. Father and son shared a tight embrace before then turning to face her. “My, my, Zecora, it has been such a long time since the last time I saw you. You were, what, ten, eleven? Then you left for Equestria and we knew nothing but sparse rumors about an ‘Evil Enchantress’ living in the Everfree Forest. It even had a song, I believe!”
Zecora wanted to facehoof at that. Of course, she’d forgotten that beneath all the stern exterior and seriousness of the King, there lied both a father and prankster that would not miss the chance to embarrass someone with a harmless comment.
“A most unfortunate title that I had to bear, for I was a stranger come from stranger ways. But my worth was proven and my usefulness seen, not a stranger anymore and worth of their praise,” she replied instantly, doing a customary bow.
“I don’t care much about the outside world, but I still make it my business to hear rumors here and there, my dear child. I also heard about a zebra that befriended a certain Princess Twilight Sparkle?” He asked, less playfully and more proudly.
“Indeed so and indeed it is, oh powerful King of Zebrica. I am lucky to count Twilight Sparkle as my friend, and that’s not cynical,” Zecora replied. “But while idle chat is fine and poking fun is good, this is not the reason I have come or why I left over a decade ago. I wish to show you my power, share my knowledge, and make you, my King, see the benefits of opening to the world and seek more than a weak glow.”
“Is that so?” The King chuckled, shaking his head. “You are certainly free to try and impress me, my dear. But what could you possibly have gained in a land not your own? Zebrica is the most beautiful land in the world and the Spirits have blessed us all! Stallions with might, power, and intelligence while mares harbor beauty, care, and wisdom? What could any other land and its people possibly offer us?”
“My King, must you look outside in such disdain? For my powers-” she said as she began to disappear, her body turning to mist and then, she was gone. “-may put your mind on a strain.”
Everyone, including Zhamir, was astonished and the whole room went silent. “What sort of magic is this!?” The King asked, both amazed and frightened.
“A magic granted to me by foreign Spirits, on a land with a deeper connection than our own. Long I trained and deep I sought until my knowledge far surpassed that which is known,” Zecora said, her voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
“H-how can this be? This level of power and control, of magic and might was never seen! To become invisible to the naked eye, it is something I have never come to glean!” The Queen chanted, amazed beyond measure.
“To become invisible is something for beginners, for I not only become unseen. I meld and walk in the realms that lie in between.” Right at that moment, Zecora emerged from behind the throne. The guards jumped back, too shocked to raise their weapons at her. She walked down to meet the King and stopped a few steps in front of him. Then, from thin air, she pulled out a staff. Everyone gasped at the display but she wasn’t done yet. With a twirl and a jump, she balanced herself at the top of her staff while upside down. A moment later, her whole body shone with mystical green marking across her fur before they exploded out, flying all over the throne room.
Then, they all exploded, showering everyone with several runes, sigils, and markings. The Queen, the five Princesses, and her Shaman Apprentices recognized a few of them but the vast majority were new and entirely unknown. As if that wasn’t enough, Zecora jumped and with the grace of a pegasus, she slowly descended until she was once more standing in front of the King. Not content with that, she abruptly turned to Zhamir, pointing at him with her staff. Nothing happened for a moment, but then Zhamir froze and Zecora began to lift him from the ground for a few moments before putting him back down. Then, to finish it if, she took her staff and grabbed each end with a hoof only to quickly bring them close, vanishing the staff completely.
The winds blew inside the throne room and everyone could hear silent, whispering voices of Spirits chanting in unknown, mystic languages.
A moment later, all eyes landed on Zecora and she smiled at the King. “To follow traditions is a sign of strength. To see them blindly is to limit your knowledge and its length. It is true that I left our land and spat on our traditions, turning my back on the role of a mare to embrace knowledge beyond what our books could teach. But my cause is worthy and my reasoning unmatched, for now, I stand before you, my King, as the Shaman who has gone to great lengths to ensure her reach.”
“I… I have no words, Zecora…” the King said, smiling a toothy smile. Turning to his son, he nodded. “You have given me much to think about, my dear. I, King Zhulka, shall take your words and imposing acts into consideration,” he bowed ever so slightly and briefly before turning to his wife. “My beloved, would you and our daughters please keep Zecora company until tonight’s diner?”
“Of course,” the Queen replied, walking over to Zecora with her daughters in tow. “Come, Zecora, we have much to speak about.”
Zecora glanced at Zhamir, only for him to nod at her, give her a wink and a bow before turning to follow his father for what would no doubt be lengthy talks. When she turned around, she found herself surrounded by the Queen and the five Princesses. They, like every other mare she’d seen that wasn’t dangling on a mirror, were bald on their heads, tails, and eyebrows. Now that they were so close she could smell their stinky heads and even catch a whiff of their equally stinky nethers.
Giving each of them a quick glance, she found three of the Princesses were in different stages of pregnancy, another had enlarged teats signaling she was nursing, and the last was either not pregnant or trying to produce another foal. The youngest Princess, already pregnant and showing proudly a belly that indicated six or seven months in, couldn’t be older than sixteen. Again, that didn’t surprise her much since it was hard from uncommon for a mare to marry and start having foals to form a family.
“I see the Spirits of Fertility have blessed you all,” Zecora said, turning her gaze to the youngest Princess. “You were but a small foal, barely able to speak when I left; such a beautiful mare has come from someone so small.”
“Thanks~,” the Princess sang, flushed by the flattery received.
“My Queen, it is good and joyful to see your face once more. I hope that my performance was not a bore?” Zecora asked, blushing lightly.
“Nonsense, my child!” The Queen exclaimed before hugging the mare in front of her and rubbing her head against hers for a few seconds. “Your display of knowledge and power, your level of communion and understanding of the Spirits and Magic and beyond… I cannot fathom what kind of power you truly hold.”
Touched by the accepting and loving gesture of the Queen, her own fur marked with her stinky, smelly, pungent scent to provide her protection, acceptance, and personal support, Zecora bowed deeply after the Queen pulled back, but was surprised again when she bowed before her, shortly thereafter followed by the Princesses.
“I may carry the title of Head Shaman, yet I hold little love for the path of the Shaman despite it having my utmost respect. My limited knowledge pales in comparison to yours, Zecora, so I bow before you,” then, she pulled up and grinned widely. “Come, come. Please, share with us more of your secrets before we dine tonight in your honor.”
Zecora obeyed, humbled by the cheerfulness of the mare she once had come to see as a second mother before following her to the ritualistic chambers of the Head Shaman. There, she brewed a few simple potions with the ingredients available, held idle chats with the Princesses and the Queen, and got to know everything that had happened to them during the years of her absence. She learned that the Queen, Velia, had fallen ill a few years ago and couldn’t get pregnant again, much to her dismay, but she had given Zhulka eleven beautiful children, five mares and seven stallions and all, with the exception of Zhamir, were now married with their own families budding families.
After a few hours of enjoyable company, they were informed that dinner would be served soon and that the King along with the Princes that were present would be there, too. They were escorted through the castle’s hallways until they reached the dining room, already tended and served with several traditional dishes that opened all their appetites. The Princesses ran to meet their husbands, various nobles, and other zebras of influence that had either won their hooves through deeds or political reasons. Whatever the case was, they all shared loving kisses, nuzzles, and their husbands moved to sniff at their stinky bottoms.
Velia did the same as she ran to meet up with Zhulka, the two of them sharing a long, passionate kiss before the King moved back to kiss her stinky nethers, sniff her loudly, and suck on her shaven, tiny tail for a few seconds before kissing her lips once more. The Princes followed suit by doing the same with their wives. Only Zhamir and Zecora were left in an awkward situation in which they did not know what to do other than stare.
Shortly thereafter, everyone took their respective seats; divided into three large tables positioned in the shape of a triangle, the symbol of Zebrica. Once they were all seated, Zhulka raised a cup and with his other hoof, he pointed at Zecora who was sitting at his left, right after Zhamir while on his right his wife sat comfortably. “Today I have seen things that have not been recorded since the times of Zhaka himself. A Shaman so powerful as to make a mockery of even my skill with the spear, the quill, and the hammer. I dedicate this feast in her honor and humbly ask her to share with us some of her experiences living in a foreign land.”
“You honor me with your words, my King, and I shall answer your request. My life was never easy nor was it hard, it was a rough start but nothing was too much in the name of completing my quest. A home I found in the Everfree Forest, a place of untamed magic and powerful Spirits. They talked, I listened; they sang, I asked for guidance; they taught me their secrets and I found a comfortable life within my hut with my own merits,” taking a moment to ponder on her next words, she turned to Zhamir. “Many things I regretted leaving behind but many more awaited me, of wonder and mystery! For what I discovered and what I acquired put to shame even the greatest Shamans of our history. Creatures of many breeds and sizes, dangers of both living and undead origin. Concoctions, formulas, and potions I learned to craft through trial and error that made the Elixir of Regrowth nothing more than cheap mockery in comparison.”
Murmurs were heard, some in outrage but most in awe. “Please, do not confuse my words with mockery or disdain. For I have nothing but respect for my land, yet I will not lie just to avoid a stain. Our knowledge is inferior and the power of Zebrica when it comes to the magic arts, diminished. Our traditions are beautiful, though I’m not an example of them, for I left to pursue my own path, risking not to let it go unfinished. But they are also our weakness, for we do not see the outside world with all its wonders. I brought back but a small fraction of what can be found in just a single land, a majesty only comparable to that of our founders.”
Slowly turning to face everyone, she continued. “My return brings many things, and it is my hope that it opens a new path of friendship and harmony, two things I learned whilst living in Equestria and have seen the power they hold. Two things that could be seen as simple but are in reality something much more; silver and jade, copper and bronze, they pale in comparison to them and have more value than even gold,” finally, she looked at Zhulka and with begging eyes, she ended with her last plea, not a rhyme, just her voice as common zebra citizen. “I implore you, my King, see the value that lies beyond our borders. I have made great friends and we could learn much from them, their lands, and their cultures as they could enjoy the beauty and strength Zebrica has.”
She was expecting many things… to hear the King’s laughter was not one of them. “My dear Zecora, what do you think we were discussing until but a few moments ago? It is true that I am a traditionalist stallion and I would prefer to keep our way of life to ourselves… but I am also not blind to see where the wind is blowing. Celestia and Luna are stepping down, granting Princess Twilight Sparkle the Throne with a dragon, of all creatures, as her personal aide! The Dragon Lands have become unified, the griffons are regaining hope, the changelings have found a new standing and the promise of a bright future. It would be foolish of me to deny these changes or to oppose them further,” turning to Zhamir, he carried on.
“My proud son, Zhamir, has been the vanguard of the movement to open Zebrica’s borders to the world if they offer the same kindness. What you have shown me, Zecora, your potential, your growth, your power, and your wisdom, leaves no doubt in my mind that the time is right and that change must come. It was Zhaka who brought the change to our glorious nation and it shall be in his name that it will remain so. Open the borders! Let strangers in! Let those that seek adventure out! Let us all flourish! Zhul’uhh Hajiikoma!”
“HAJIIKOMA!” Everyone but Zecora cheered in unison before devolving into laughter and cheering.
After that, everyone proceeded to feast, eating and drinking until they couldn’t anymore. Zecora watched every couple present being in love and sharing their time together; kissing, licking, nuzzling, and sniffing each other with the stallions smelling the stinky heads and nethers of their wives. All of them presented clear and hard erections; a sign of their need and want for their significant other. For as a mare is loyal to her husband so is the husband loyal to his wife forevermore.
Content with what had been achieved and thankful that it had ended so smoothly, she proceeded to enjoy the rest of the feast to its fullest until it was over and everyone started to leave for their chambers.
“Zecora… would you like to walk with me through the gardens?” Zhamir asked, bashfully.
Zecora noticed the looks his sisters were giving him and she could hear the chuckles of his brothers and in-laws at his display. “I would love to, my Prince, without any peers,” she replied, taking a step forward. “Let us part away from any prying ears.”
Chapter 4 End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone that read this!
Zebrican Life
Chapter 5
Zecora and Zhamir walked slowly and in a comfortable, amicable silence through the splendid gardens of the castle. She knew every flower and every plant by name, function, and properties. Some were medicinal, others decorative, and many more used for the oils and treatments found at large throughout Zebrica for mares to use in various rituals and oils. Namely speaking, those used to make their bottoms, tails, and head be stinky and alluring for their stallions.
Pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, she cleared her throat. “I remember when we used to play in these gardens. So many adventures we pretended to play and our escapades always brought the ire of the maidens! Rascals we were in all but name, uncontrollable and reckless yet without harm or ill desire. Playing and mischievous actions were all but the same, as we were unable to distinguish what was fun from something dire.”
“We got in so much trouble several times! Mother was furious with me after that time we built a fortress made out of gardening tools, remember?” Zhamir laughed fondly at the memory. “Or when you somehow decided it was a good idea to taste several plants and roots to see what effects they had?”
Zecora blushed at the playful prodding. “I was young and dumb, a mere filly pretending to know better! And I’ll have you know that my belly ached as if it was going through a fetter.”
“True… ah, how I cherish those simpler times. But, if I do recall correctly, having you watch as our mothers worked on making a potion to alleviate your pain was the catalyst that got you interested in the path of the Shaman, was it not?”
“Indeed it was; my belly calmed but the smell only began when it ended, the stinky, pungent smell that mares enjoy to have on their scalps and behind. I suffered so much, my sensitive nose couldn’t take such an agonizing punishment back in the day; I couldn’t control it at all, and I suffered it all, from stench to uncontrolled farts, I felt resigned.”
“Wait, you have a sensitive nose? Is that why you always admonished the use of oils, perfumes, and rejected the traditional rituals… is that why you left to Equestria?” Zhamir asked, perplexed.
“I did it not out of malice and I thought there was something wrong with me for wanting to push away my heritage, my culture. It was only after years of study that I discovered the root cause of my discomfort, my sense of smell that is keen’s as that of a vulture. I did all I could to remedy my discomfort and to an extent I was successful. The path was arduous and filled with peril; fights with cockatrices, manticores, and other such horrors, it was all so stressful. Yet I managed to grow in comfort and control my gift, for with my sense of smell I discovered several plants and methods to create potions unlike any previously witnessed. To secure their creation and bring them back here, to my home, that I made it my business.”
“Zecora… I didn’t know… It must have been so painful to endure the heavy musks and the smells of so many oils, perfumes, fragrances… all rubbed on mares not to mention their own natural scents and the markings of their husbands…” Zhamir said, trying to imagine how having such a sensitive to perceive the smells that, at least to him and to a majority of his people would be pleasant and arousing, but to her were painful, horrible, and putrid.
She shook her head and reassured him. “Worry not and fret nothing of it, Zhamir, for it dwells in the past. I still cannot withstand most of the potent smells, but I can manage myself quite well, unless, of course, I encounter something that leaves me aghast.”
“That’s good to hear, Zecora,” he looked around and smirked. “You know… I think it was riiiiight there-” he pointed at a nearby decoration marked with a warding rune. “-when we first kissed, is it not?”
“I believe you are right,” Zecora replied, smiling and blushing simultaneously. “A memory I hold most dear as it shines within me showing nothing but light.”
The couple stared into each other’s eyes for several moments in complete silence, simply enjoying the company of the other before the prince spoke. “I love you, Zecora,” he took a step forward, nearly pressing his snout against hers. “I have loved you since we were but foals, before I even understood what love was. My love, you and you alone are the one mare I wish to take as my wife. Please, Zecora, allow me the infinite blessing of courting you properly, traditions be damned if you so wish! Don’t remove your tail or mane, leave your eyebrows be, don’t carry any scent. If you wish not for them, then it shall be so. I simply want you at my side and for me to be at yours.”
Zecora couldn’t stop her happy tears from escaping and she smiled broadly. “I have thought of you every day since I left Zebrica and arrived at Equestria. My stay was enjoyable and I focused all of my strength on my pursuit of knowledge and connection with the Spirits. Yes, you were with me in my dreams, cheering me on, while I wished with every fiber of my being to see you again one day and be with you,” she stopped in order to nuzzle him lovingly for a moment. “I love you too, Zhamir. With all my heart.”
“What, no rhyming?” He chuckled while his heart threatened to burst at any moment from sheer happiness.
“I say this as a mare, not a Shaman,” she said before their lips met for the first time in over a decade. Their flesh buds collided and mashed against each other in a sweet, slow dance that depicted their lack of experience and amateurish attempts at making it romantic. It was sloppy, they hit their teeth a few times, didn’t know how to breathe properly, but it didn’t matter. To them, their kiss was nothing short of perfection. When it ended, she pulled back in order to catch her breath before speaking once more. “If I’m to stay at your side and allow this courtship to start, then there’s a ritual I’ll have to take.”
Zhamir’s eyes went wide. “A-Are you sure? Zecora, please, I wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable by doing so.”
Zecora shook her head. “I may not like it, that is true, and were you not a Prince then I would remain as I am after your heartfelt offer. But if I am to stand at your side, then I must look the part. For you,” she kissed his lips again. “Being bald and stinky is a sacrifice I am more than willing to make now.”
“If you are certain, then we shall do it however you feel more comfortable doing, my love,” kissing again, they enjoyed their union once more; a promise of more to come and years spent apart finalized.
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The following day at the ritual chamber of the Head Shaman, Zhamir and Zecora waited for everything to commence. The ritual was rather simple and required no special chantings but it did require the presence of a Shaman to validate it. With Velia doing this for her son that was more than covered. Zecora has also invited her to-be sisters-in-law to watch as she got shaved by her beloved Zhamir.
They assisted their mother in bringing all the equipment she would need to perform the ritual. A sharp razor blade, several types of ointments and specially concocted oils, and, of course, a wide selection of perfumes. All of it performed under the gentle warmth of candlelights and the aromatic scent of incense.
“To symbolize your union, Zhamir, you must shave the head, tail, and eyebrows of your beloved of candor. May the sharpness and smoothness of the blade cut away the ties of doubt so that love may bloom even grander,” Velia said as she presented the razor blade to her son.
“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this, Zecora? Just say the word and this will stop. I don’t care if you’re bald or not, you are the most beautiful mare in my eyes regardless of your choice,” he said, exalting his love for her.
“I wouldn’t be here otherwise, my love. You are royalty and a stallion of skill and cunning, you’ll need a partner that represents the traditions of Zebrica to stand proud and above,” she replied with a gentle smile. “Fret not, Zhamir, for you have my trust. And despite how much you would like it to be otherwise, I speak the truth of the matter even if it may feel unjust.”
“I know,” he sighed. “Very well then, only for you, my love. And thank you.”
He said before taking the handle with his mouth, the blade enchanted with runes to prevent it from accidentally cutting her too deeply. Velia applied some soap all over Zecora head, tail, and eyebrows and, after a few seconds, Zhamir moved in to slowly and delicately begin to shave her. For a full minute, Zecora watched as her mane, bountiful and tall, fell to the ground alongside her eyebrows and her long, bushy tail.
When it was done, Velia signaled her to stand up and she obeyed. Instantly after, she noticed that her balance was off and that she felt much lighter. It took her a few seconds to adapt to an acceptable degree for her to be able to stand still. Just in time, too, for Velia to give Zhamir a cream she knew far too well.
“By applying the Cream of Ungrowth, the mare shall never be able to recover that which was lost today. Rejoice, for it is a sign of belonging; the start of a promise that nothing else shall hold sway,” she said.
Zhamir applied the cream over her freshly shaven parts and she felt a slight sting and a burning sensation for mere seconds before it came to an end. After that, she felt the cream move by itself and merge with her fur and skin, permanently leaving her bald from head, tail, and eyebrows.
The Princesses brought a mirror so that Zecora could see her new self. At first, she didn’t know what to think, but the more she inspected her new appearance; her bad, maneless, short fur and smooth head, her lack of eyebrows, and her short, smooth tail, her heart went aflutter. As much as it shocked her to admit it, she loved her new look and how beautiful it made her seem. A quick glance at Zhamir told her he thought the same, as his erection loudly slapped against his belly and the massive blush on his face made her smile even wider.
“Now, Zhamir, pick a perfume or oil treatment to mark Zecora with a particular scent. Choose whichever strikes your senses the most for this event,” Velia said before presenting a vast assortment of perfumes, scented waters, oils, and ointments to choose from.
Zecora looked at the Princesses and knew that they, much like Velia, were wearing their own brand of musk or perfume for the day. She knew what that meant and what that implied. Every mare, even those sharing the same perfume, smelled different because of the combination of oils and perfumes. The perfumes themselves were strong and impactful, produced with great care to be enjoyable without being too pronounced even if the choice of scents were unique.
Fermented and processed animal feces was one of the key ingredients of every perfume and depending on the quantity, quality, and type of animal the result always varied. It was rather exotic from an outsider’s point of view but to a zebra mare, it was as common as breathing. Not only that, but many oils were prepared via similar methods but had other purposes. Instead of merely smelling as a particular mix of poop, fruits, vegetables, plants, bark, or flowers, they mixed in with the sweat glands to make them produce more of the mare’s natural musk and make it stinkier, not to mention adding a slight aroma to it.
She dreaded having to use the stronger types from then on out, but Zhamir was as cunning as he was handsome, and instead of choosing an oil or perfume, he touched her now bald head and ran his hoof across it.
“Why would I choose something over what is already perfect?” He said in a rhetorical manner that pleased his mother, apparently having known about Zecora’s condition already. “Her natural scent is more than enough for me.”
Zecora felt her heart melt upon hearing those words but even so, she wasn’t prepared when Zhamir began sniffing and licking her bottom, taking in her musk and humming to himself as he enjoyed everything she had to give. He licked her haunches, savoring the taste of her sweat under her fur, then her thighs, flanks, and shaven tail. She lifted her tail to expose herself to her beloved, but even though the action was appreciated, it didn’t matter since it now her pussy and anus would be always exposed; whatever modesty her tail provided now truly gone.
“Mmmmmm~” she shivered as she moaned in delight, finding the actions of Zhamir so incredibly debaucherous but also exciting. She moaned louder when he began to sniff her pussy and anus shortly before he began to lick her skin.
“Zecora…,” he moaned her name as he continued to lick, focusing on lapping her asshole and sucking on her clit.
It didn’t take much after for Zecora to get riled up thanks to his actions and, soon enough, after years of pent up frustrations and unfulfilled desires got the better of her, she came quickly; her abundant nectar overflowing against his open mouth as he lapped it to enjoy more of her taste.
With her legs feeling wobbly, he moved back to support her with his body. They shared a messy, sloppy kiss for the better part of a minute until they parted, both of them smiling widely and happily.
“With the spilling of nectar a pact has been made, may your love be true and shine bright as fire and be as intense! Together: a stallion and a mare, a new family soon to be born if the Gods and Spirits will do so so that, in the future, your belly swells with foal and may his mark claim you as his mare, let the courting commence!” Velia chanted.
“Now it’s official, my love, we are courting. I promise I’ll make you happy, Zecora,” Zhamir said.
Zecora didn’t reply with words but rather closed the distance between once again in order to nuzzle with him. He nuzzled her back immediately and spent who knows how long lovingly nuzzling each other, relishing the company of the other since her arrival.
Chapter 5 End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone that read this.
Zebrican Life
Chapter 6
Velia convinced them to enjoy the rest of the day secluded and away from prying eyes before announcing their relationship to her husband, the King. Taking her advice, they did just that and spent the day talking about their future, what they wished to accomplish if it was possible for Zecora to bear still bear plenty of foals given her age and Zhamir wanting the biggest family she could give him, how she planned to still further her research and knowledge as a Shaman until an otherworldly exhaustion struck them and fell asleep embracing each other.
In his sleep, Zhamir would lick, sniff, and kiss the now bald head of his beloved Zecora while she pressed her bottom against his stiffened penis.
The following morning they were tended and groomed before presenting themselves to the King during breakfast. Upon seeing Zecora’s new look, the King nearly choked on his food at the surprise but after chugging a cup of wine, he rose to his hooves and walked over to the newly-formed couple.
“When did this happen!?” He demanded to know with a smile spreading across his lips.
“It happened yesterday, Father. Zecora has officially given me permission to court her,” he explained before kissing her bald head, making her blush and smile shyly.
The whole room exploded into boisterous cheering for Zhamir and Zecora’s new relationship from every royal present. After Zhamir’s siblings congratulated him, Velia stood up.
“My dear, your daughters and I conducted the ceremony and have given my blessings. But I will do so again in front of everyone. As Queen and Head Shaman, I give you my blessings, and may your courting be filled with happiness and joy so you may soon learn the wonders and joy of motherhood, Zecora.”
“Then, my son, my dear Zecora, you shall also have my blessing as both a father and King of Zebrica. May your courtship be brief so the bonds of marriage bloom soon after!” Zhulka chanted before, once more, the whole room erupted with further cheering and celebrations.
Zhamir and Zecora nuzzled each other, thanking and accepting everyone’s blessings.
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Of course, they were expecting difficulties but much to their surprise, they found no opposition to their courtship. Sure, many mares were disillusioned and some broke into crying fits as the Prince had now chosen his future wife, but other than that and some pesky rumors that died as quickly as they emerged, their relationship slowly developed without issue.
The one hurdle (or blessing according to Velia) that they faced came from between themselves. They were unwilling to spend long periods of time apart from each other, even by the standards of courtship. Alongside that, their libido was simply off the charts. While in courtship, any actual sexual intercourse was forbidden as chastity was seen as a point of strength. However, it was offset by the male sniffing and licking the mare’s bottom until she climaxed in an effort to show he was a worthy male that could please her.
As, technically speaking, the entire castle was his home, he was allowed and expected to do so whenever they wished. Which they did. In the gardens, in the hallways, their room, everywhere they could enter and not disturb Zhulka or Velia on their daily duties they took advantage of that position. Which left the servile mares of the castle to mop after every orgasm Zecora had. Which quickly amounted to several a day.
Of course, their duties prevented them from spending every waking moment possible next to each other. This saddened them both but tended to their jobs with diligence and newfound drive to finish them quicker and with increased efficiency only to be able to be together again.
Zhamir also finally fulfilled his dream of taking his beloved out on dates. They wanted to blend in like any other couple and not be treated differently due to who they were, a tough thing to achieve but they managed to do it. Also, as tradition demanded, they restrained themselves accordingly. Zhamir would not sniff nor lick her stinky bottom, as Zecora slowly found the amount and strength of the oils and concoctions she could withstand and he found enjoyable to sniff. They left that for when they were in the castle or in private even though they wished they could display their affection as a married couple could.
Another change that pleased Zhamir greatly and Zecora found to be enjoyable and helped her feel more confident about herself and look sexier was the use of rings to spread her anus and pussy open. To Zhamir’s surprise, she didn’t start with the smaller ones as he thought she would; instead swiftly taking some of the most common ones from the get-go and finding them a tight but manageable fit.
“A lonely mare in the Everfree still had needs. I practiced with dildos and fake cocks of many sizes to please my urges even with the use of anal beads,” she explained during one of their dates.
Days passed and turned into weeks and then, before they knew it, four months had gone by. As luck would have it, they were out on one of their dates after coming out of a cinema and were now enjoying a nice meal at one of the many restaurants available. Zhamir sighed happily and that caught Zecora’s curiosity.
“Why do you sigh so openly and dreamily? Are you perhaps wanting things to become steamily?” She asked.
“I have never been happier, Zecora. Nothing more, nothing less. We have been courting for only four months but, to me, they have felt like four days,” he collected his thoughts for a moment before continuing with a wide, reassuring smile. “The Spirits and Gods above have surely blessed our union since we were foals, Zecora and I wish not to spend my life apart from you ever again. Please, my love, you know that I speak nothing but the truth when I say that you are the one and only for me and I am the only stallion for you. I know this every time I stare into your beautiful eyes,” leaning forth until their faces were inches apart, he continued. “Let’s stop the courting and be engaged and be at our own helm, so you may be my mate, wife, and Princess of the realm.”
Zecora stared at him for long, silent seconds that seemed to stretch into eternity until tears began to pour down her eyes. Blinking and making her vision blurry, she smiled with all the love she could muster before replying. “Yes. Yes! I want to be your wife! I wish to bear your foals and have a family, Zhamir!” She cried out, happy and content in the knowledge that she’d be his wife forevermore.
*************************************************
After talking with his parents, Zhamir booked an appointment with the Elder Councillor, one of the few that had the authority to carry on the specific rituals when it came to making the marriage of a Royal official.
In just a matter of days, the entire castle was left in a state ready to celebrate their wedding. By their request, the ceremony itself would be very private instead of celebrated throughout the capital as was the regular tradition, but the King didn’t oppose it. After everything was set and ready for their union to take place, they moved into the Ritual Room to commence.
“It is my great fortune and honor that I witness the Wedding Ritual of our beloved Prince Zhamir. Great Shaman Zecora, who left her home in order to pursue knowledge shall be his wife and produce a stronger lineage than that of the past, for the glory and greatness of all zebras and of Zebrica! Gods, I am no Shaman, but I ask you at the behest of the Spirits of Love, Union, and Family to bless me once more in order to make this marriage a possibility,” suddenly, a gust of wind coming from nowhere hit the elder and his eyes shone for a brief second. “You may begin, my Prince, for the Gods have seen me as worthy of holding this honor and bless your union,” he said in a respectful, joyful tone.
“Zecora,” he began while staring into her eyes. “I vow to never betray the love and trust you freely have given me. I promise to always love you, cherish you, and take care of all your desires if they are within my power to convey. You will be my one and only wife until the day I die. If I were to leave your side first, I will wait for you for the heavens would be Tartarus without you, my love. Through fire and struggle I will stand by your side,” Zhamir finished with tears in his eyes.
“Zhamir,” she replied, her voice barely comprehensible as she struggled to not break into a crying fit of pure happiness. “I swear as a Shaman that I will never leave your side or think of any other stallion as anything more than a friend, for you are the one who has captured my heart and to whom I give it entirely. I accept to be your wife as you accept to be my husband for the rest of our lives and what is yet to come after we depart this realm, through the struggles and challenges of life we will go, together side by side, finally.”
“The Gods and Spirits are pleased, for in my many years I have never seen a couple that belonged together more than you,” ringing a bell, the lights dimmed and a stinky, smelly, but at the same time pleasing and dizzying scent filled the room. “Now, my Prince, you may mount your mate and finalize the ritual of bonding and union, marking her as yours as you mark yourself as hers,” another clang. “Breed for the first time in your lives and may the Gods and Spirits grant you their blessings of fertility and health so you may produce plenty of strong foals,” the elder rang the bell a third time.
Zhamir kissed his beloved and nuzzled her once before making his way behind her. There he found her tail was lifted all the way to give him complete access to her nethers as a sign of her submission to him. He began by sniffing her stinky bottom, a nice addition even though he only needed her natural scent, but Zecora wanted to follow the traditions as much as possible and so she began using some oils and perfumes that she knew he liked. All for his sake.
“Mmmmmm!” Zecora moaned in response to the heavy sniffing her beloved was doing on her poor defenseless rear. He sniffed her haunches, flanks, pussy and especially her anus. “Ahhhaaa! Z-Zhamir!” She moaned his name when he began to lick her pussy and asshole. After four months of doing it almost daily several times each day, he knew exactly where her weak spots were and how to exploit them.
It took only a matter of minutes for Zecora to achieve an orgasm. She tried her best to suppress it by biting on her lower lip. Her nectar was squirted all over the floor and it flowed through the drains placed below her quickly. Before she could get a breather and calm her senses a bit, Zhamir followed tradition to the letter and immediately mounted her. His cock found its mark and he shoved his entire stallionhood into her tight pussy until his rounded cockhead was kissing the entrance of her womb for what she hoped would be a regular affair between them.
“Gaaaahhh! Zhamir! Y-you’re so big, my love!” She cried and gasped before Zhamir snorted in response only for him to start thrusting into her with great abandon. “Zhamir!” She screamed his name, her legs feeling wobbly as each thrust made his balls impact against her winking clit, her cervix was assaulted by the flat tip of his stallionhood, and her pleasure skyrocketed to levels she never thought possible before.
“Zecora! My love! S-So tight!” He cried out, desperately ravaging his mate in an effort to fill her womb with his seed and finally claim her as his wife.
The thrusting continued for a few minutes, with both parties moaning each other’s names, saying how much they loved it, and screaming for more until Zhamir’s thrusts became disjointed. With a final thrust, he emptied the contents of his testes into the depths of his lover’s welcoming womb, taking all it could possibly store inside it.
“Ahhhhhh!”
“Mmfffffff!”
They cried out and for a moment Zhamir laid on top of Zecora’s back trying to catch his breath while she put all her efforts into not collapsing from all the pleasure she experienced. After a minute or two, Zhamir dismounted his mate; his cock dislodging from her insides causing his stinky, steamy, and goo-like cum to flow out of her now gaping cunt and onto the floor as it slowly drizzled to the drains.
“The deed is done, both of you. From now henceforth, you shall be husband and wife. Congratulations, my Prince, Great Shaman,” the elder congratulated with a wide smile on his face. “Now, my Prince, use the Purity Oils to signal to everyone she is now taken after you leave the room.”
Zhamir looked at Zecora with a doubtful, worried stare but the mare merely nodded and smiled, reassuring him she was ready for it. Making his way to the table near the elder, he picked the two bottles of oil that rested on it. He uncorked the first one and poured all over his wife’s bottom, making sure to cover most of her back, her haunched, flanks, ass, gaping pussy, and legs with it. He smelled the rich, stinky, mind-dizzying stench of the oi’s aroma and he could feel his nostril burn with pleasure.
For Zecora, while it was hard to withstand the smell thanks to her sensitive nose, she knew it had to happen and she was glad to have been practicing over the past four months with smelly and stinky shampoos, oils, perfumes, and other essences. Then he felt a cool slimy thing raining on her head and she realized Zhamir was now pouring the second bottle on top of her bald head. He began to rub her head, ears, face, neck, the rest of her back and what he could reach of her torso with the stinky ritualistic oil.
When he was done, she nearly fainted as all she could smell now was the strong essence of a stinky anus, the age-old smell of mares since even before the great Zhaka founded the Zebrica of today. Something primal in her brain awakened, something dormant, as even though the intensity of the stinky thing now permeating her body, she found she was liking it more and more by the second, her mind ignoring the pain it brought her.
A smell that felt oh so deliciously right to her. A stinky smell that she came to love in but a few seconds.
After the final touch was placed, the elder gave them his blessings and allowed them to leave the room. Shortly after leaving the Ritual Room, they made their way to the Throne Room where Zhulka and Velia were waiting for them.
“Zecora!” Zhulka yelled in merriment. “Since you have mated with my son, Zhamir, the Crown-Prince and heir to the throne, that makes you a fully-fledged Princess and the Princess of the Realm!” Hitting the floor twice with a foreleg, the servants standing close left quickly to grab a few pillows carrying a few objects of great value. “Approach.”
Zecora obeyed, glancing around she found several other members of the royal family crying happily, her now sisters-in-law, in particular, were unable to contain their joy and were bawling openly. Reaching the King, she bowed her head as a sign of respect. She wasn’t expecting him to nuzzle her though and that caught her off guard. “My King?”
“You have always been dear to me, Zecora. Ever since you were a foal and played alongside Zhamir, I always dreamt that this moment would come. I’m so happy to be alive and see it come true,” he said softly and sincerely before nuzzling her once more. “Now, I have a gift for you. But first, please, remove your jewelry.”
Zecora didn’t have to glance back to know Zhamir approved of it and thus, she did as instructed, handing over her necklace, leg rings, and earrings to a servant.
Zhulka then began to carefully put a necklace similar to her own but encrusted with several kinds of precious gems and diamonds, all of it on the design befitting a Royal. He also put leg rings on both her forelegs and finally smaller earrings all in the same style as her new necklace.
Taking a step back, Velia took his place and nuzzled her cheek, sharing and smelling their stinkiness. Velia pulled back to then put a small crown on top of her bald head; masterfully crafted with tear drop style designs and also encrusted with gems and diamonds. The same style of crown all of her daughters were wearing, truly marking her as not only a Princess but part of the Royal Family and marking her as Princess of the Realm, the next Queen and Head Shaman.
“Welcome, Zecora, my new daughter,” Zhulka said softly, barely able to hold back his tears of happiness.
Zecora bowed before the King and Queen before rushing back to Zhamir, the two newlyweds nuzzling each other lovingly.
Celebrations erupted throughout the castle for the rest of the day, everyone admiring them for marrying and many more praising Zecora’s stinky aroma. It was well after nightfall that the couple finally managed to escape the attention they garnered and found themselves in their room. Relaxing on the bed, they began to talk.
“I don’t want to go to sleep, for I fear that this may be a dream and when I wake up, you are still far away from my reach, my love,” Zhamir confessed.
“This is real, beloved of mine. I am never leaving your side again if I can help it, our wedding is more than just a sign,” snuggling closer to him, she allowed him to sniff her bald head and lick it, too. “It will take time for me to get used to this potent smell… but despite the pain, I like it, that much I can tell.”
“Will you stay with me forever and ever and beyond that?”
“I will.”
“Will you allow me the privilege of being at your side for that same amount of time?”
“I do.”
Looking into each other’s eyes, they saw eternity itself stretch before them, a future unknown but together. That was all they wanted and needed.
“I love you,” they said at the same time. They blinked a few times in surprise, giggled, and then kissed passionately.
Happy to be together at long last.
Chapter 6 End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone that read this!
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!
Zebrican Life
Chapter 8
Zecora walked alongside Zhamir through the hallways of the palace for what felt like seconds. It was curious how time spent apart seemed to stretch into almost maddening extremes but when they were together it sped up as to make hours last seconds or less? The answer was quite simple and she knew it. Love, after all, was a strange and powerful thing.
They walked through the gardens in silence, simply enjoying each other was more than enough for them. Other couples were also present, but all gave the couple the space they needed as a show of respect. As they walked, they watched some of the other couples, the husbands giving commands to their wives and they obeyed without hesitation.
It was something that nearly made her giggle in amusement. Before Zhamir, she would’ve never considered being submissive to any male. But Zhamir was her beloved and the only stallion she truly loved. For him, she would do anything and that included following the most important part of being a wife. Of course, he had protested at first, saying they didn’t need to follow that particular tradition too closely. But she, as a good wife, convinced him to act the part and promised she’d be the ideal wife, not just for him but due to his position he needed a proper wife at his side.
Now that she had some experience dealing with the life of a married mare, she found out she actually loved being submissive and obedient to him. In a regular zebra marriage, after all, while the stallion and the mare work together to create an ideal household, the stallion holds all the power and is controlling and mares must be obedient to their orders, as long as their union is not threatened. But that wasn’t a problem since almost universally every mare desired to be controlled by a strong stallion. The call to be submissive and fulfill the orders of their husbands was something every mare craved to fulfill on a fundamental and biological level.
Being obedient and submissive to a strong stallion made many mares happy and also eased their burdens because they now felt protected by their husbands. It also helps many to simply relax and make better decisions, leaving the harder choices for the stallions to solve. Of course, there were some mares that challenged that and preferred to not marry or pursue careers outside of what was expected of a mare.
But they were dwarfed by the mares that became wives and desired to be controlled by their husbands.
She included. And Zhamir, despite his initial doubts, fell into his role excellently and now controlled almost everything she could or not do; he had even given her a list of things that she could say or do when dealing with other nobles. She had to ask him for permission if she wanted to voice her opinion, she always had to be submissive, and he could stop her from speaking whenever he wanted to or if he saw it as necessary.
Zecora, however, loved it. She felt more at ease, more secure, and more confident in herself. They walked through the gardens and soon made their way out of the castle and into the city for the walk he had commanded her to get ready for. Whilst walking through the streets, almost every zebra that saw them greeted them with respect or simply bowed at their passing. Zecora felt incredibly giddy and lifted her tail a little extra, hoping it would expose her anus and pussy, still leaking cum of her beloved, making them stand out more.
They then noticed a mare and a young colt walking up to them. When she was close enough, she bowed deeply before Zhamir and then even deeper before Zecora. “My Lady Shaman, I cannot thank you enough for the potions and the knowledge of the Spirits you have brought to our lands. Thanks to you, my wonderful, beautiful son is able to get out of bed; his dreadful cold is gone now. He shall live and grow strong to make our nation proud!”
Zecora opened her mouth, moved by the words of the mare but in a flash she remembered her place. She looked at Zhamir, silently asking for his permission to speak.
Wearing a wide, proud smile, he nodded. “You may speak, Zainabu.”
Turning to face the grateful mother and her son, she replied. “To help those in need, to make their lives easier and purge the ailments that may seek to destroy one’s life is nothing more than my purpose to be a Shaman. Your gratitude is welcomed, your smile my reward, and to see your little colt is fine fills me with joy, can’t you see my smile as wide as that of a caiman?”
“Bless you, my Lady Shaman, a thousand times bless you! How can I ever repay you?” The mare asked.
“There is no need for that, for you are one of my subjects and you have bought the potion and I made the brew. Nothing else is left to be said aside from a gentle farewell and may the Gods smile upon our ado,” Zecora replied. Before they could continue on their way, the little colt stepped forward. Suddenly, he closed the distance and hugged one of her forelegs.
“T-Thank you, pwetty Wady Shaman. Now I can run again and not cough all day!” He said with beaming joy.
Zecora’s smile widened while Zhamir chuckled and the mother giggled. “No need to thank me, charming little colt. Now, obey your mother and be a good son, do not make her jolt!”
The mother and her son quickly gave their best wishes and thanked her endlessly until they were a good distance away and turned to continue with their day. Zhamir, on the hand, couldn’t be more proud of his wife even if he tried. They soon continued their own way through the city until they reached a peaceful secluded area reserved for nobles and royalty. They found it was empty at that time and took advantage by sitting on a bench. They sat in silence for ten full seconds before they moved to kiss. Kissing turned to a passionate exchange of spit and then culminated into a full-blown make-out session.
The kisses they shared were heated and passionate to denote how much they loved each other. But Zecora didn’t fight against her husband for dominance, she simply replied to his actions but he had all the control. How could she fight against the dominance of her beloved husband? Early after their marriage she found the joys of letting him take full control of their making-out times; he would command, she would follow, and they both enjoyed it immensely, often losing up to half an hour in displaying their affection that way.
Their tongues danced peacefully, if he sucked in her tongue, she would let him do so. If he wished to coil and press it against her, she would fight with his appendage in a mock battle while openly drooling saliva. He dictated the course of their fervid, heartfelt encounter and she loved every second of it; happy to be dominated by her strong husband.
After some time, Zhamir ended their exchange much to Zecora’s sadness. “Stand up, ass up and present yourself to me, Zainabu.”
Even though her breathing was still ragged after such heavy kissing, she obeyed instantly, not wanting to disappoint her husband nor be seen as a bad wife. She pressed her chest to the ground and, with legs spread wide, presented her rear to her husband. It wasn’t her place to talk nor he had given her permission to do so. Instead, she remained silent, waiting for any further orders.
Zhamir took a moment to admire the backside of his wife. Her holes were wide open, stretched out, tail raised up, all of it smelly and stinky, and all for himself to enjoy. “You’re so beautiful. So attentive and dutiful as my wife, Zainabu… I may not be that big on traditions, but I’m glad you convinced me to follow this particular set to the letter,” he confessed before beginning to sniff her stinky anus, still carrying some of his own musk thanks to cumming inside her an hour ago; his scent marking her and increasing her stench even more. “I love how you smell, Zecora~,” he chuckled before smelling her pussy, too. He spent a few minutes doing nothing else but smelling her backside while his erect cock slapped against his belly.
Having had enough of her smell (for now), he proceeded to lick her asshole and pussy. Throughout the previous smelling ordeal and now with his licking, Zecora continued to moan softly, only now increasing due to his direct attention. He licked her for several minutes, jumping in between her holes; focusing on her clit for a while before jumping to her exposed anus, then coming back to sniff and lick her exposed vaginal opening and so forth. Until, unable to contain herself any longer, Zecora climaxed and her mare juices flowed out in a steady stream that Zhamir was more than happy to get a taste of as the spilled to the ground.
Then, before she had finished cumming, he mounted her. He wrapped his forelegs against her barrels with all his might before thrusting his cock all the way inside her pussy until his tip met with her cervix.
“AAAAHHHHH! Z-Zhamir!”
“Mmmmhmmmm! You’re such a good wife to your husband, Zainabu! Now, take my seed!” Zhamir ordered as he began to pound away against her cunt.
“Y-Yes my-Ahhh! H-husband!” Zecora replied, smiling widely while the wet slaps of his heavy testicles meeting with her wet clit were heard across the small private square. She was elated to be able to give her husband such pleasure, felt loved as he desired her so much, and the pleasure was beyond her wildest dreams. It wasn’t the first time nor the last they would share their bodies, but it always felt better than the previous time.
Zhamir was too excited and only lasted a few minutes before he climaxed for the second time that day. He filled her womb completely and the excess of his seed spewed out of her pussy and onto the ground. “I’m not done yet!” He declared as he pulled out of her pussy followed by a steady stream of his white, creamy, stinky cum and positioned his cock on her tail hole. Without further warning, he shoved his cock into her asshole in a single stroke and began fucking his wife ruthlessly; relentlessly pounding away into her sphincter.
“Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Mmmmmm!” Zecora moaned with every thrust, showing her husband just how much she loved being dominated by him in every way possible. Her belly was hot and she could feel his seed sloshing inside her, which only made the experience better for her and she wished her belly would grow gravid and heavy with their first foal soon.
With his frantic thrusting and him being super sensitive after cumming inside her pussy, it took about the same time for him to cum inside her anus, filling her up yet again. After a few last weak thrusts, Zhamir pulled out from her asshole. Some of it splatters to the ground before Zecora, with a move of her hooves, made a thin wall of magical energy on her stretched-out holes, preventing the seed of her husband from spilling out; ensuring in the process that his scent would only augment and add to her already stinky rear.
Silently, the two laid on the grassy field behind their bench and stretched out, feeling content and relaxed after their round of fucking.
“I can’t be happier with my life even if I tried,” Zhamir confessed. “I love you with all my heart, Zecora. I’m so happy that you’re my perfect, obedient, submissive wife.”
“I love it, too, Zhamir. I never imagined the joys of being a good wife would be so wonderful. I love everything you order me to do and following your commands; almost as much as I love being bald on both ends and stinky for your delight, it is a life one would call colorful,” Zecora replied. “My friends do not understand the ways of our people, but they accept me nonetheless, warming my heart for being a Shaman is something I cannot give away. The potions to aid and help those in need; to push back against dark magics and bring the touch of the Spirits to all, it is like second nature; a second life, in a way.”
“And you are the greatest there is, my love. That little colt will grow strong, find a wife, and raise a numerous family thanks to your potions and your works. The years we spent apart are worth it just because of that. Your family must be so proud of you,” he blinked. “That reminds me, I didn’t ask you about your latest visit to your parents’ house. How was it?”
Zecora giggled. “There is no need to apologize to your wife, my beloved. Your work as a Prince is hard and exhausting, I do not blame you for letting that slip out of your glove,” she replied. “My family is quite in good health and my time with my mother helped me understand the ways to be a wife better. We got to do chores together, taught me how to behave, and what was expected of me; my sisters also helped since my fame did not make them bitter.”
“And you succeeded, my perfect wife,” he kissed her snout, praising her. “Ohhhhh! Now it makes sense! Two months ago we went to the Everfree Forest to visit Ponyville. No wonder you were so good with your household chores, you clever mare! Your mother is a wise wife, indeed!”
“Of course, Zhamir. I plan to be the wife that you deserve and we will be together for the rest of our lives and beyond, my love. I promised myself I would be the ideal wife, Shaman, and mate for you,” she said without rhyming, all to profess that her love for him was greater than her love for being a Shaman.
Zhamir snuggled her closer and the two enjoyed their time together a bit more before heading back to the castle. But that could wait, not it was the time for them to enjoy themselves.
Chapter 8 End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone that read this!
Zebrican Life
Chapter 9
Zhamir and Zecora had arrived at Zecora’s home tribe early in the morning and were now sitting in her parent’s living room. They hadn’t come for a family visit, at least not initially. But they had tended to their duties far quicker than expected and decided to pay a visit before leaving for the capital once more. Of course, her whole family had been ecstatic to see again and the Prince after a few months apart. Zecora’s father asked Zhamir if they could wait for a little while until they could get Balili, one of Zecora’s younger sisters and only fifteen years old, to deliver an important family announcement.
Their wait was rather short-lived as the mare in question entered the house with a young stallion, a local guard judging by his armor, at her side.
“Zecora!” Balili gasped and exclaimed in surprise before rushing to meet her sister. “I’m sorry! I meant to say, Zainabu! But you’re here for me!?” The younger mare nuzzled her older sister in greeting before turning to Zhamir, bowing her head. “Good to see you again, brother-in-law!”
“Ah, Balili, always so spirited,” Zhamir greeted before rubbing her head affectionately. “It seems you may be misinformed, dear. We didn’t come to visit the family but rather this is a happy coincidence. But it seems the secrecy of your parents is finally explained by your giddiness. Pray tell, Balili, why are you so happy about?”
“I’m proud to say that my darling daughter is getting married!” Said her father as the entire family gathered around the living room. Nudging at the young stallion, the guard stepped forward.
“Great Zainabu. My Prince Zhamir, I am pleased to meet you officially. My name is Xolote, and I may be a humble guard but I will do my best to support this family and my beloved Balili,” he said, approaching the royal pair to stand next to his wife.
“Low born or royal; guard, farmer, craftsman, or prince. It doesn’t matter our standing within our nation, we are all worthy of it and our roles are important,” Zhamir said to Xolote. “You may speak your mind, Zainabu.”
“Thank you, my beloved. Sister, when I left you were merely a little foal, barely able to talk. Yet to see you now standing ready to wed, so young and already knowing your place and desires is something that speaks of a conviction strong as bedrock,” Zecora said to her sister.
“How old are you, young stallion?” Zhamir asked.
“Sixteen, my Prince,” Xolote replied. “I know we’re young, but we want this more than anything!”
Zhamir nodded. “May your wedding and union be lasting and harmonious. When is the wedding taking place?”
“Tonight!” Balili answered, her tail wagging eagerly.
Zecora’s jaw dropped and Zhamir let out a mighty laugh. “The Gods have some strange sense of humor!”
Later that night (and after a few hours of enjoyable banter between family), Zecora and Zhamir decided to overstay their welcome in order to see the wedding ceremony of her sister. Every tribe had its own traditions regarding wedding ceremonies. Some were private, others were public, others had a certain age requirement or specific ritual to complete before or during the ceremony itself. Zecora’s tribe tradition was to hold weddings in the open and under the moonlight, for a deeper connection with the Spirits.
The elder of the tribe had prepared everything that would be needed for the ceremony. Most of it was the usual and fairly standard, but then he reached the important part of the ceremony.
“The union of a new couple is something to always be celebrated, for love knows no age nor boundaries. Balili and Xolote, you may be young but you are at the age to be allowed marriage now that your families have given their blessing onto you. It is not uncommon to see couples like you: eager, full of life, fertile, and driven by love to join your lives at such an early age. It happens regularly across most tribes and even some small towns. The Spirits and the Gods see nothing wrong with this, I assure you! Your union is blessed and you shall be wedded to start a new family, may it be numerous and prosperous!”
The rest of the ceremony passed without much issue until the couple said their vows.
“Balili, my love, I’m but a simple guard of our village. We’ve known each other since we were kids and you know I love you more than anything else in my life. I can’t promise you a life of luxury. I can’t promise you a life without strife. But I can promise you I will love you with every fiber of my being and make you happy to the best of my abilities,” the stallion promised.
“Xolote, I adore you with all my heart. We may be young and we’re going to make mistakes and be stupid once in a while,” which made everyone chuckle for a little while. “But being a wife… being your wife has been my dream since I was a filly. I’m ready to face our life together, my love. I don’t need riches. I just need you and many adorable foals to raise!” She replied before they kissed.
Zecora looked up to Zhamir when she heard him sniffling only to find him tearing up. Giving him an amused expression that he noticed, he snorted.
“I’m a helpless romantic, my love. You know this,” he excused himself before the newlywed couple began to copulate in front of the audience. They looked at them and heard their moans of pleasure and he sighed happily. “It brings back some nice memories, doesn’t it?”
“Indeed, my love,” Zecora replied.
There was a point in which Xolote, showing his dominance over Balili, bit against his wife’s neck all in an effort to breed her harder. The wet slaps of his balls hitting against her slit were heard across the field until he came. They cried out in pleasure before the stallion, not missing a beat, continued his mating by rutting the spread-out asshole of his wife. He continued to breed her asshole until he filled her tight pucker.
With the ceremony concluded, the entire family cheered for them, both Balili’s and Xolote’s, and they moved to Zecora’s parents' household, since it was larger and perfect to hold the following party. Once in the household, Zecora, Zhamir, the parents of the happy couple, and some of their older relatives moved to a series of tables where they could enjoy themselves while giving the couple the space they needed to dance and spend time with the rest of the family.
“Xolote is studying to become an officer?” Zhamir asked, impressed. “He didn’t strike me as the ambitious sort.”
“Oh, no, he isn’t. But if he manages to become an officer then he’ll be able to properly provide for Balili and their future foals,” Xolote’s father replied.
“Ah, commendable! I wish him the best. Officer training is rigorous. If his conviction is as strong as his words, he will succeed,” Zhamir commented.
“What about after the party is concluded? They are young, I hope my sister and her husband didn’t engage each other without a plan excluded?” Zecora asked, having received permission to speak freely earlier.
This time, it was her father who replied. “They already have that covered. They will move to the house he bought a few months back. Balili may be quite the free spirit but she shares your brilliant mind when it comes to organizing, Zainabu. They have a whole plan set up. First, they will move together and refrain from having foals for a year or two until they finish their studies. She’s going to become a great administrator and he’s going to become an officer. After that, they will start looking into forming a solid, happy, and big family,” he said with tangible pride.
“Of course, Balili will also take on her duties as a housewife,” Xolote’s mother said. “She is quite gifted for a mare her age! She loves to clean, do the chores, and make sure everything is up to order. She’ll make a fantastic wife for my son,” she praised. “It is hard to not find satisfaction in the life of a regular housewife.”
Zecora looked at Zhamir, who was smiling at her with a playful, knowing glean in his eyes. “I think I know what can serve as a last-minute gift from my part.”
**************************************************
His gift had been quite a generous one indeed. For Xolote, nothing more than his word was required to put him at the top of the candidates and receive special extra training. It ran him through three times the pain most other candidates could ever hope to receive but it also rewarded him with his position sooner and with a rank above the standard.
On the other hoof, Balili received a nice stipend to finish her studies and manage herself a vacant position in her tribe’s administrational department. Not a glamorous job but one where her skills could truly shine and find her stability and time to raise her family and help her husband.
With those gifts given the young pair were able to accelerate their plans to half the time and begin working on starting a family. It was only eight months later that Balili announced that she was pregnant, just a couple of months before turning sixteen. More time passed until it was time for her to give birth and Zecora was now looking at a photo of her newest nephew being cradled by her sister.
She sighed happily as she sat around the Queen, Velia, and her daughters for a little get-together while waiting for their respective husbands to come out from an important meeting.
“Is something wrong, Zainabu?” Velia asked in her typical motherly tone.
“Nothing is wrong as all is right. One of my sisters has given birth to her first foal, a small bundle of light,” Zecora replied.
“Ohhhhh! Is it Balili? I remember that she came up in several conversations between you and big brother Zhamir!” One of the Princesses asked, clapping her hooves happily. “She’s rather young isn’t she?”
“What of it? Most mares find husbands at around seventeen or eighteen. She found her strong husband at fifteen. Truly, we should be envious of her luck!” Another chittered in good humor.
Zecora giggled. “Bt the good news does not end there. In the letter my mother sent me, my big sister Kossal, announcing her newest pregnancy, another member of the family to bear!”
“That’s so good to hear, Zainabu! Kossal has, what, five foals already? Spirits willing, she will deliver her new foal safely and bring forth more foals into the world.”
“I know, right?” A Princess said, rubbing her swollen belly. “I can’t wait for my little one to come out. My teats are so big and heavy with milk, all of it just for my new precious foal.”
“I know, I know. The duty of every mare is to provide her husband with plenty of foals and a big family. The bigger, the better I say. But the only thing better than getting pregnant and raising a foal is breastfeeding it,” she shuddered in heavily as she said those last words. “I can’t get enough of having my large, milk-filled teats emptied by a little, hungry foal. To feel the connection with something that grew inside me, to feed it with my essence so that it may grow strong and adorable is the ultimate joy any mother can experience. Right, mother?”
Velia nodded, smiling widely and proud of her daughter’s words.
Zecora remained silent while her sisters-in-law and the Queen continued to talk about the joyous experience that was breastfeeding, pregnancy, birthing, and raising a foal. She looked down at her flat belly and small teats and couldn’t help but feel a small pang of regret. Of course, she and Zhamir had agreed to wait until he rose to the throne to have foals. With his position thoroughly secured and some of the weight lifted from his shoulders, he could focus on raising a family as it was the tradition for the crown-prince in line if he didn’t have a family already.
That line of thought also brought her to remember a charmful tradition held once a month on her home tribe. She had never participated since she wasn’t married and she had left for Equestria at a young age. But she had gotten to see her mother and some of her older sisters and brothers being selected to participate. It more or less was a simulacrum of the wedding ceremony, usually presented to colts and fillies so they may know what it will involve and grow accustomed to it.
Twenty mares picked at random from the populace, all married, would go to the central square and line themselves only for their husbands to sniff their stinky, smelly bottoms and lick them until they orgasmed. Then, they would mount them and start breeding their rear holes until they were filled with cum.
By sheer coincided during one of their visits a few months back had coincided with the day of the event and she, along two of her sisters, were picked out to participate. They took the chance to further contribute to their society as the tradition played a secondary role of expression of love, fidelity, and devotion that could only be found in a married couple.
“Behold, young foals, for this is the show of love in its purest form. For a mare to be a good wife she must be submissive and obedient. For a stallion to be a good husband he must be dominant and virile. Mares need sex once they reach maturity and the stallions must be ready to provide that need. For a mare to be submissive if to be happy as they all love being under the control and orders of their husbands. Fillies, you will come to love this. It is your destiny, decreed by the Gods and the Spirits, to be mothers and good wives. And sex is an integral part of that relationship and if you practice it constantly, stay faithful, and produce many foals, you will be happy. Both fillies and colts. Happy together in marriage. To be filled with seed, to wear his musk and possess a stinky scent, and to bear foals. What more joy can a wife ask for?”
That’s what the elder had said and always said while she , her sisters, and the other seventeen selected wives were fucked by their husbands in public. Those words came straight from old, sacred texts and he repeated them at each event. But it was true. She loved her now stinky bald head, her ever-smelly rear, and to reek her husband’s stench all the time. She loved it beyond words. But as the elder finished, so did the husbands, including Zhamir, and they filled their holes.
Cum had splattered to the ground, echoing around the square before a heavy session of nuzzling and a second rutting commenced.
Regret came back into her mind and in that moment the doors opened to reveal Zhamir, other stallions, and the King himself. All of them sniffed at the mixed stinky stench of so many mares gathered in one room and each mare greeted her husband. Zecora nuzzled with Zhamir for a few seconds before whispering. “There’s something I have to tell you, my love.”
Zhamir didn’t ask motives or reasons and simply followed his wife to the gardens where they could find some proper privacy. Finding a good position, she began.
“My beloved, it wounds my heart that I have been a stupid mare. I made an error… I was too busy but I have no excuse; lie I do not dare. It is not noticeable yet but it will be in a few months. My love… I am pregnant,” she revealed her secret with great shame in her voice. Instead of finding her husband angry, stupefied, or shocked, she found him smiling widely, his mane now regrowing steadily. Before she could react, he swooped her from her hooves and tossed her back onto the grass. A second later, he began licking, kissing, and cooing at her still flat belly.
“I’m going to be a papa! I’m going to be a father!” He muttered to himself, happy as can be and unable to contain his joy. “Oh, my beloved Zecora, who cares about our plans!? We never should’ve waited so long in the first place! I was selfish, but no more, if I can’t be King, then so be it! I’ll be a father instead and it will be just as good! Forgive me from depriving you from the greatest experience any mare can have: the joy of pregnancy and being a mother. After all, mares are at their best when they are raising foals and being impregnated by their husbands over and over again. To raise foals, to educate them, and to form a big, happy family.”
Looking up at her, he smiled through teary eyes. “I love you, Zainabu.”
“And I love you, my husband, owner of my heart and soul,” she leaned forth in order to nuzzle him. “I’m so proud and happy to carry our first foal!”
The future was uncertain, but by the Spirits they would make the best out of it.
Chapter 9 End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone that read this!
Zebrican Life
Chapter 10
The daily routine of life was something every zebra found great pleasure in. That was a truth that was impossible to deny. Granted, the mares were more predisposed to enjoy the drudgery of everyday life but stallions also found enjoyment in it. However, everyone was capable of finding themselves simply bored, be they peasants or kings, no creature was exempt from this one rule.
Zhulka found himself precisely in that position. He had to fight the urge to yawn as he heard the petty squabbles of two feuding tribes. He really could not care less about their problems but he was bound to serve his subjects. The discussion was getting heated as subtle insults began to thrown by both sides when a messenger rushed from the side to him, the guard letting him pass after a quick inspection.
“My king, Prince Zhamir and his wife, Zainabu, desire to speak to you and the Queen,” the messenger said.
“Tell them that I’m busy and that they must first schedule a royal audience,” he replied with all the enthusiasm of a warthog sunbathing.
“That’s… the issue, my King. It is not for royal business but rather a family matter,” the messenger continued.
“Hmmmm,” the King hummed, thinking deeply for a few seconds before standing up. “Cease your running mouths!” He ordered, having no idea what in the name of the Gods the two sides were even talking about anymore. But his command was heard and obeyed instantly. “The Royal Court is meant to be a place to solve issues that plague our beloved nation, not a place for petty squabbles. Before I allow you to run your mouths again, I must hear a petition that my son, Zhamir, has for me. Unlike your issues, I am sure it is of dire necessity… or news of such magnitude that will bring me joy this day.”
With a nod, the messenger ran out to inform Zhamir that he could enter. Moments later, the doors opened to reveal the Prince and his wife walking side by side with Zecora standing a step behind her husband, as it was only right and proper for any wife to show their submissiveness.
“Father,” Zhamir began, bowing his head to the King. “We’ve come bearing excellent news!”
“Welcome, my son! My daughter! Tell me, what news do you have to say?” Zhulka asked, eager to hear the answer.
“Zainabu, tell them all the good news!” Zhamir ordered, stepping back to give her the chance to speak directly at the King.
Zecora felt all eyes on her but this time she didn’t felt nervous. She felt happy, content, and ready. “My King, I am pleased to announce that my words are as true as my posterior is smelly. It is my pleasure to inform you and the rest of the royal family that there is a foal growing inside my belly.”
“WONDERFUL NEWS INDEED!” Zhulka jumped from his throne and landed a few steps in front of her. “My wonderful daughter-in-law, to know that a new grand foal is on the way fills me with joy! Go to my wife, she will instruct you further. Now, Zhamir, join me in solving this debacle between these two tribes.”
“Of course, father,” he replied and went along with him, pausing only briefly to see Zecora being surrounded by his sisters and mother, congratulating her for her pregnancy.
“Zainabu, I trust that you know how important the role of a mother is. There is no greater joy for a mare and no role more sacred than that of being a mother. Are you ready for such a responsibility?” Velia asked sternly.
“My role as a mother shall be the most important, even more than that of a Shaman. For a new life is now growing inside me and nothing can be more important, just as the sky is to a raven. I will be a good mother and raise my children as is expected. For a mare is destined to raise foals and have them protected.”
“Wise words indeed, Zainabu. You will be an excellent mother,” Velia praised.
**********************************************
Of course, the entirety of Zebrica knew in just a matter of days that the Prince heir-Apparent was going to be a father and that Zainabu, the great Shaman, was pregnant. Zecora told her parents and family the following day via letters and they there were all happy for her. Her parents, in particular, were proud of her latest achievement and overjoyed that they were becoming grandparents yet again.
She also told all of her friends back in Equestria and Spike went out of his way to personally hand her all of their letters and gifts, congratulating her for her pregnancy and wishing her the best.
Of course, there was one thing she didn’t like as the months progressed and that was that the servants assigned to her slowly but surely began to tend her for everything. She could barely do her work as a Shaman because of it but she did not abscond them. She knew it was their job and that Zhamir had placed them there to make sure she would be safe along with their unborn foal. But aside from that, everything else was progressing splendidly.
But something unexpected did happen during the first months of her pregnancy. As her belly grew in size, more and more other mares revered her. She was already highly looked upon because of her knowledge and power, but her pregnancy had sparked something within many mares across the kingdom. The reports flooded of several mares getting married earlier than expected at sixteen or even at fifteen years old. Many of them got pregnant during their first month and countless other married mares also got pregnant. It was as if her pregnancy had caused a tsunami of new marriages and future lives to come into Zebrica.
A short investigation revealed the cause. She was well-known as a mare that had rejected the old traditions for the sake of uncovering the secrets of the world, the Spirits, and the Gods. Her power was unmatched and her knowledge priceless. But now that she was married and her belly was growing gravid with foal, somehow by popular belief, her tale had been twisted around slightly to make her leaving Zebrica as a personal sacrifice to further the knowledge of all Shamans.
That’s why she had picked Zainabu as her new given name, to honor the highly revered Shaman of old. Furthermore, her turning around to embrace the traditions she once rejected in order to embrace her destiny, inspiring countless mares into following in her hoofsteps. Some even taking the road of the Shaman themselves.
It wasn’t exactly what Zecora wanted but it produced the same results she desired. In light of that, she embraced going to a relatively harmless reunion regularly. Royal mares had no obligation of attending since they were noble mares. But Zecora, in light of her unexpected success, decided to exploit it.
She attended regular religious ceremonies in which to-be mothers still early in their pregnancy would show off their growing bellies while a priest talked about the beauty of pregnancy.
“A mare’s worth can be found in the stench of her shaven head, tail, asshole, and vagina. But it glows when she is pregnant and carrying a foal. A mare reaches the ultimate form of beauty there can be, for the Gods blessed them with the ability to bring forth more foals to this world. Zebrica needs more foals and you are the ones providing it with those blessings. Be proud, mares, for this is your greatest achievement!” The Priest always said a variant of the same speech but never the same.
And it worked. Every mare, including her, felt better knowing that their pregnancies were blessings from the Gods and carried by the Spirits. At first, Zecora found herself out of place during those sessions since she was eight to nine years older than most of the mares attending the sermon. But after a few sessions, she grew accustomed to it, especially when all of the young mares praised her for joining them, giving them strength, and the priest treated her coming as a signal that the Spirits themselves guided his words.
Surprisingly, Zecora felt incredibly welcome and good during the sermons, not just with herself but with the other attending mares. They were younger, yes, but that just meant they had embraced their roles as mothers and housewives earlier; her presence causing them to take great pride in it. Commonly, most mares got pregnant during their late teens or early twenties, but it was common for younger mares, such as the ones in her group, to also get pregnant and raise a family soon. It was something that Zebrica highly encouraged and supported wholeheartedly, unlike Equestria that, while young marriages were also common, most mares waited until they were in their late twenties to bear foals, as being a mother and a housewife wasn’t as venerated there.
This time, however, the dynamic was a bit different. As always, the mares sat in a circle to expose their growing bellies so that everyone could admire them. But this time, their husbands were behind them and they were on the outside, facing a large group of young mares, little more than fillies in all due reality, while the priest rambled on about the privilege of motherhood and the beauty of carrying a foal. But then, suddenly, he turned to her.
“Princess Zainabu, please, expose your belly to the crowd if your husband permits it?” He asked not her, but Zhamir.
She looked at her husband and he nodded in approval. Standing on her back legs, her growing belly was exposed for all to see. Gasps and stomping hooves were heard instantly after.
“Our beloved Princess Zainabu has embraced the destiny of all mares: to be mothers and obedient housewives. Mares, embrace the role the Gods have given to you in your life, seek out your happiness if you can, but never forget that you were meant to be mothers!” The priest announced.
Zhamir nuzzled her lovingly, uncaring that his display of affection was seen by several dozens of fillies and young mares. He loved his wife and he was not going to reprieve himself from the joy of showing her affection. But most of all, he was proud that she had embraced her motherhood with open hooves, making her an even greater beacon for all the mares in Zebrica to look up to and for stallions to admire.
“My Princess?” A mare around thirty-something years old stepped forward along with her husband and another young couple of around sixteen years old. “May we rob you a few moments of your time?”
“Please, speak your mind, dutiful mother,” Zhamir replied, hinting that he gave his permission to his wife.
“Princess Zainabu, I thank you for inspiring my daughter-” she said as the younger mare took a step forth and bowed her head respectfully, a wild blush appearing on her cheeks. “-to follow the path of motherhood. I’ve been trying to install on her the beauty of being a mother. She’s my oldest yet refused to marry young and instead try to look into pursuing the path of a Shaman. Now, my daughter has seen and finally come to understand that a mare is meant to be a mother, get pregnant, raise foals, take care of the household, do chores, be submissive to one’s husband, and accept her fate and be happy with it!”
“My mother is correct, Princess Zainabu!” The daughter added. “Ever since the announcement of your wedding was public, I looked more into your history and I can’t help but admire you! I even tried to be a Shaman myself, to see if I had the skills. But I don’t have the cut of a Shaman,” she apologized somewhat embarrassingly. “But I can be a good mother! After all, that’s the only thing mares are good at and should be doing! But not all mares are the same. Just look at you! You were able to achieve great things because the Gods gifted you with your blessings! The rest of us will do what we were meant to you… and… and even you, a great Shaman, are now pregnant and ready to be a proud mother. How could I not follow your example, my Princess?”
“Your words are kind and filled with wisdom. Not all mares should find solace in motherhood, but all mares are meant to be mothers; you learned your lesson with the wit of a clandom,” she then smiled before kissing her husband’s cheek. “The fruit of our love is growing in my belly and is the one of your husband doing in your womb. Be happy, for I also discovered the joys of motherhood and I wish to be a proper wife; now go and let that new life bloom.”
The two couples thanked her for her time and moved away before Zhamir kissed her lips in full display of the audience. “You are absolutely beautiful, Zainabu.”
“And I love that you made me a mother, my husband,” she replied without rhyming.
***********************************************
The months crawled by slowly but Zecora could definitely feel the changes time made on her body as her pregnancy continued. Her belly grew more and more, walking became difficult though not impossible, her bottom became even stinkier, though that was normal in all mares as the gestation period advanced and their bodies reacted to said changes. Her teats also began to enlarge as she started to produce milk and oftentimes they would leak wherever she traveled to.
During a pregnancy, the husband is expected though not bound to assist his wife during those times by helping her walk around, do minor chores, and get things ready for when the foal’s eventual arrival. Sadly, his position and schedule prohibited him from playing his part as much as he wished to though he regularly bathed and tucked her in for the night. But there was nothing to worry as for the rest of the time the servants he assigned to her since the start of her pregnancy took care of most everything not related to her Shaman work.
Everywhere she went to, though, she was the talk of the party and all eyes landed on her. Some with envy but the vast majority of those gazing eyes were of admiration.
It was during one of her regular trips to the market to find the supplies she needed that she met a young couple of fifteen-year olds. The mare said she had almost married a year prior because of the inspiration she was to her, but refrained until she was fifteen to fulfill her destiny as a mother and live the housewife life. Zecora felt her heart touched when the mare showed her the gravid belly she was carrying and confined in her that if the foal born were to be a filly, she’d name her Zecora in her honor.
“I am happy that you have taken that route; humbled beyond measure that you would honor me by naming your daughter after me. To see that mares have taken inspiration from my actions, not only accepting the ways of the Shaman but that of motherhood, too, at an early age makes the Spirits rattle in delight; for the purpose of a mare is to bear children and commune with that which lies beyond the veil of the mind.”
That had been her answer. It surely confused the mare a little but she left more reassured than before of getting pregnant over and over again for the future of Zebrica.
Her family, especially her siblings and parents, were incredibly happy that her pregnancy was going along smoothly and all of them grateful that she finally took root and her proper role as a mare. A favorite pastime they all shared when she came by to visit them was that they enjoyed rubbing her stout stomach. Of course, there weren't the only ones happy. Zhamir was especially filled with mirth as her bottom became stinkier and smellier even with her regular baths; thus ended up spending entire afternoons smelling, licking, and kissing her posterior.
She giggled as that was what he was currently doing at the same time he rubbed her bloated belly carrying his first foal.
“You’re going to be the first of many foals. You’ll have many siblings to play with and look after soon enough, yes you will! Your mother is a proud mare and will be happy to fulfill her role eagerly,” he said and cooed as he kissed Zecora’s flanks and rubbed her belly. “Ah, my love, I can’t wait until our first foal is with us.”
“Eager and virile you are, my beloved husband,” she hummed and giggled as she watched him pamper her flank and belly. “Already thinking on the second of our progeny, can you not wait until--” she froze instantly as a lightning pain spread across her belly and up her spine. “Z-Zhamir! Zhamir! I think… I think I’m starting labor!”
Before the prince could utter a word, Zecora’s stinky bottom released a torrent of smelly sweat that even he found to be too powerful to fully enjoy. It was the telltale sign that the final stage of pregnancy had concluded and now the foal was ready to come out into the world.
“CALL THE MEDICS IMMEDIATELY!” He screamed his order. The guards and servants standing ready to serve them scampered to fetch the medics. “Breathe, my love, breathe.”
The following hours were excruciating for Zecora, the same it was for all first-time mothers. But the pain and the effort were all worth it when she finally got to hold her little foal, a colt, in her forelegs.
“I am a mother…” Zecora said tiredly, not hearing the congratulatory words of the medics and servants around her. “I’m truly a mother now…”
“The best one, my love.”
Looking at her foal sleeping peacefully, breathing quietly, she smiled and cried from the flooding joy threatening to burst her heart apart.
Chapter 10 End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone who read this!
Zebrican Life
Chapter 11
Zecora laid on her cushioned bed, her hindlegs slightly parted so that her swollen teats were accessible to her little foal. Her son was a beautiful colt and even though he was still a newborn he was the stripping image of his father. The thought alone made her shudder and smile widely with joy. To have the product of their love silently searching for his food and to be able to touch him was a kind of happiness she never thought could be reached.
Of course, she hadn’t been able to do anything other than tending for her foal ever since his birth a few weeks ago. Not that it matters , she thought as she caressed her foal’s head. A new mother was bound to take care of her foal and focus solely on it until it began to walk on its own.
Even then her role as a mother would only begin. Mares were expected to focus on raising foals, as tradition dictated that motherhood had to be taken seriously and was the greatest achievement any mare could ever hope to achieve. From peasants to royals the tradition was sacred and was followed to the letter.
She had always questioned such strict traditions, that was no wonder, but after coming back and living through them she had come to see the wisdom buried in those traditions. More importantly, the more she stared at her foal the more she felt like doing anything to protect him and prove herself as a good mother.
Looking around the room, the royal nursery, in fact, she spotted a few of her sisters-in-law, Princesses and sisters of Zhamir also tending to their foals. Some were newborns like her little colt and others were nearing the time to leave the nursery.
“Mmmmppphh!” She moaned, surprised. Looking back at her foal, she saw him desperately trying to suck more milk out of her now empty teat. “Now, now, little one, sunshine of my eyes, there is nothing more for you inside,” using a hoof she guided him to her other waiting teat: her little foal instantly suckling on the milk-dripping nipple with a ravenous hunger that caused her to moan again. “Drink and grow strong, my beautiful foal; know that you are my light and my pride.”
She then relaxed again while breastfeeding her foal. The sensation of fulfillment and near overwhelming happiness impossible to ignore. Her colt suckled on her teat, desperately so and she felt elated. “So this is what motherhood feels like,” she said with a sigh. “I started as a Shaman, then I became a Princess of the Realm, and now I’m a mother. Truly, I am blessed,” she said to herself.
“And I am blessed to have you as my wife and mother of my foal, my love,” Zhamir said, eyes drippy and smiling tiredly.
“Finally awake?” Zecora chuckled, nuzzling her beloved and letting him sniff her bald, stinky head and lick her too. “Slept well?”
“At the side of my two most precious treasures? Always,” Zhamir declared. “I’m so proud of you, Zecora. Not only have you made me a father but also embraced motherhood like a true and proper mare. You fill me with pride,” he nuzzled her again.
“I am happy, so, so happy,” she replied.
“Tell me, what does it feel to be a mother?”
“It is unlike anything I’ve ever felt,” she spoke, not bothering to rhyme at the moment. She was too tired, happy, and relaxed to put on the effort to do it except when talking to her foal. “I never would have imagined that being a mother would make me feel so complete and content with my life.”
Zhamir smiled and nuzzled her once more, his eyes focused on his little colt. He loved him like nothing else and now he could understand why his parents acted the way they did whenever a new foal was born into the family. His mother in particular was happy to see him become a father. Of course, just as proud to be a grandmother as she was she made keen work to ensure his wife would be a proper mother and be comfortable in her position.
On the other side of the family, his wife’s family were overjoyed that Zecora had finally become a mother. Everyone without exception had come to see the new baby and everyone loved him. Even the friends of Zecora in Equestria had come to see their son and had showered them with gifts and good wishes.
He couldn’t help but smile at the thought that his wife, the Shaman Princess of Zebrica, was so loved and appreciated that even the Princess of Friendship herself had come to pay her a visit. But the real victory in his eyes was how much Zecora had adapted to become a mother.
“You’ll be a most excellent mother, Zecora, my Zainabu,” he praised, staring intently at how Zecora gently licked their son’s head. “Better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
Pulling back from her son, she turned to lick Zhamir’s lips. “And I am happy to be married to you, my love. Even happier to be the mother of our handsome little Prince.”
“He will be a great Prince born into a new era. He will be greater than you and I combined. He will be as beloved as Zhaka and be more famous and remembered throughout time itself! Even the Gods and Spirits shall look down upon him with admiration and respect for the things he shall achieve!”
Zecora giggled. “My husband, is your vision so short? I hear the whispers of the Spirits and they tell me that our son shall be forged a new era himself, anything else would be a snort.”
Zhamir didn’t reply with words but he kissed his wife and then both watched over their foal, basking in the glory of their parenthood as the little colt continued to eat. The two proud parents enjoying each other’s company and the sight of their foal safe in the knowledge that the future for them looked brighter than ever.
************************************************-Eleven years later-
“Mom! Mom! What does the potion do?” A little filly, the image of Zecora when she was her age but with the vibrant eyes of her father asked as she and her younger sister stared into the bubbling cauldron.
From the other side of the metal container stood Zecora, using her magic to stir the pot and a foreleg to gently rock the sleepy baby filly nestled against her barrel with a saddlecloth. She looked at her daughter, Zhembe and Velia, in honor of her grandmother, while her youngest daughter, barely eight months old and still too young to start learning how to walk, Felicia, cuddled against her barrel for warmth and safety.
“It helps hair grow, my darlings. Ponies need them to fulfill their callings,” she replied.
“Pony mares are nice but weird. Why don’t they go bald like you, mama?” Velia asked.
“Because our cultures are different. There is no reason to judge them for not following our traditions, embrace them as friends and they do, for to not do so would just invite ignorance,” she replied, again, wisely.
The lesson continued in silence as her daughters watched the potions slowly brewing. She was happy when they began showing a genuine interest in the ways of the Shaman and they were curious, quick learners, and hungry to prove themselves. Well, they are their father’s daughters after all , she thought, smiling. Speaking of which, her two sons, Zhymur and Zerek, her oldest and second-born respectively, were out with their father.
Looking at the clock she noticed that they were bound to arrive at any moment. But that didn’t distract her from her work or from looking around her expanded treehouse in the Everfree Forest. Over the years she had made it a habit to travel to Ponyville to further expand her knowledge and teach her foals how to choose their own path.
She had chosen her own, after all, and it would be hypocritical of her to push them onto the traditions of their homeland or deprive them of the chance to follow them on their own accord.
But there was no denying that her life had become a never-ending source of joy and fulfillment ever since she embraced the lifestyle of motherhood in all aspects, tending to her work as a Shaman alongside it but never taking away time from her duty as a proud mother.
“Is it almost ready, mom? I see it turning to blue!” Zhembe asked, pointing at the cauldron.
“Yes! Yes! The potion is almost ready! See, I told you we’d do it right!” Velia said, excited at their success as she bumped her older sister’s rump with hers.
“Now that the stirring is done, all we have to do is let it rest for five minutes and the potion will be done. It is your first time preparing this potion and I must say, you have more talent than what I begun!” Zecora said, praising her daughters. “Now, while we wait, Zhembe, why don’t you tell us more about that colt you play with? I am yet to know him by name but I see that you are quite forthwith.”
Zhembe blushed. “Mooooooom!” She cried out, face beat red and looking away.
Zecora tilted her head while Velia giggled. “There is nothing wrong with young love, my dear. Your father and I were younger than you are when we met and fell in love, in fact.”
“T-Trample Sprout is just my friend, mom!” Turning her head away, she smiled coyly. “B-but thanks… for not being angry.”
Zecora shook her head. “I could never be angry about love, Zheme. But you are still young, still a filly, but you need to know that at your age things are uncertain. Don’t be afraid to follow your heart and remember, always treat him nicely and he will treat you nicely. Be truthful, be loyal, and show him that you care for him, okay? That’s how love is nurtured from an early age.”
“Thanks, mom,” Zheme replied, smiling at her mother; her face beaming.
“Now, why don’t you help your sister and me fill these flasks? It may not be much but it is a daunting task!”
The three mares were almost done filling the several dozens of crystal flasks when the door to the wooden hut opened revealing Zhamir, Zhymur, and Zerek. The two colts, despite old enough to stop being considered colts anymore, upon seeing their mother rushed to her. The scenario played in reverse as the two fillies put aside what they were doing to rush and greet their father.
Everyone nuzzled and Zecora got a firm, wet kiss from Zhamir the moment they were reunited. “Did everything work out?”
“To perfection, same as you, my love,” Zhamir replied. “Kids, why don’t you go outside and make sure the sigils are still in place. After that, you may play for the rest of the day.
“Yeeeaaaaaayyyyyyy!” The four siblings cried before rushing out of the hut.
Alone with only the now sleeping Felicia nestled against her mother’s barrel, the married couple nuzzled again. “Was everything alright while we were gone?”
“Better it could never go unless carefully planned. Your daughters show promise and a keen eye, their talent is indeed grand,” Zecora replied. “They made this potion all by themselves, I did not guide until it was time to call upon the favor of the Spirits and stir the pot correctly. Everything else they did by themselves, they shine so brightly.”
Zhamir’s heart and chest swelled his pride. “They are your daughters, are they not? Beautiful as their mother and perhaps more cunning?” He chuckled. “As for our part, nothing grand happened. We strolled through the town, met up with Princess Twilight, and came back with a signed migration treaty. It is finally happening, my love. After years of planning, Zebrica shall finally embrace the world and share what we have to offer.”
They nuzzled once more and Zhamir took the chance to kiss his sleeping daughter. “Our sons and daughters shall see a new world, my love, and I’m confident that they, along with the rest of our families, will guide Zebrica to a new and brighter tomorrow. In fact, I already saw the blooming love between Zhymur and a cute pony filly during our trip.”
Zecora giggled. “It seems love is in bloom and the tiny seeds have been planted. May they grow into grand trees, such as out love, Zhamir.”
“Our lives have changed so much it’s almost scary to think about it, but everything has changed for the best, my dearest love. My Zainabu, my Zecora. I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us.”
The married couple kissed passionately for several moments until they broke due to lack of air, abridge of spit still binding them together for a few extra seconds. Their unions transmitting every ounce of happiness they were feeling.
“Let’s go and play with our offspring, Zainabu,” he ordered.
Zecora obeyed and the two walked outside, the Shaman giddy and content with how her life had turned out to be and safe in the knowledge that things were as they were supposed to be.
The End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone that read this!
Zebrican Life
Chapter 3
“And here we are, the Capital of Zebrica, Zhakalior, re-named after the first King, Zhaka the Ambitious. Even after all these years living in it and knowing every part of it, I still feel goosebumps whenever I look at it from a distance. An example of zebra ingenuity, power, might, and nobility,” Zhamir said, his voice filled with insurmountable pride.
Zecora agreed with a hum, mindful to not interrupt her beloved’s ruminating. She found it incredibly funny and charming how he still acted the same and said the exact same thing when entering Zhakalior, it was yet another reminder of their past relationship, everything they left behind, and what they had accomplished because of it.
Nevertheless, she was thankful for Zhamir’s thoughtful and understanding heart. He could’ve easily ordered her to go to the capital immediately to see the King, but he had allowed her as much time as she needed to reunite with her family, spend some time with them, and get to know her little brothers and sisters that she didn’t know she had, a bunch of nephews and nieces, and, of course, catch up with the rest of her older siblings.
With an entire week able dedicated to nothing but enjoy her time with her family and know how they were, she went to Zhamir to tell him that she was ready to go. Butterflies formed in her stomach at the mere thought of it; the Prince had retreated to his private chambers at the other side of the village just to accommodate her and give her all the time she wanted without making her feel pressured by his presence. The contingent of guards moved forth first, the line of travelers waiting to enter the city was huge but stepped aside upon witnessing their Prince.
Everyone bowed showing their respect and allowing the Prince and Zecora access to the city unhindered. As they approached, they spotted another group of guards making their way to the gates from down the busy main road. Once they were close enough, they came to a halt and the Captain of the formation bowed.
“Ah, my Prince, I was told of your arrival--” the Captain stopped when he spotted Zecora. “--m-mere moments ago by our lookouts. It is good to see you again, but it seems you are not alone?” He asked as politely as he could manage.
Zhamir noticed the captain’s hesitation but decided to let it slide as it wasn’t an everyday occurrence to see a grown mare with a mane, eyebrows, and tail unshaven. “Indeed I’m not. I met with my old friend and flame during my stay in her village by complete chance. This is Zecora, a most powerful and revered Shaman.”
“My apologies!” The Captain and every guard and soldier that didn’t belong to the Prince’s contingent bowed in respect towards Zecora. “Had I known that you were a Shaman, my lady, I would never have acted nor thought so rudely towards you!”
“It is of no concern. My forgiveness is not something that you must earn,” Zecora replied, feeling a bit ashamed and self-conscious of the attention she was getting.
The Captain sighed in relief before getting a grip of his composure again. “My prince, please, follow me, the King wishes to speak to you as soon as possible.”
“Is it for an emergency?” Zhamir asked.
“No, my Prince. His majesty merely wishes to see you again and while I have yet to meet with the Queen this day, I am sure she too wishes to see you’ve returned,” the stallion replied.
“Then there is no urgency to return to the castle just yet. It has been years since my beloved last saw the capital, I am sure she would dearly enjoy a stroll through its streets?” Zhamir suggested, glancing only slightly at Zecora.
Zecora gave him a small nod. In all honesty, she really did want to see the city, but if the King had summoned him then that took precedence over their desires. Then again, Zhamir had always been somewhat rebellious and more than rambunctious when it came to obeying his father than any of his siblings. Not only that, but she felt like she owed him the chance to play along after gifting her the chance to spend a week with her family.
Who was she to stop him if he wanted to treat their little venture as an unofficial date? She would’ve laughed at the clearness of his intent or maybe he made it so clear because he knew there would be no point in trying to cover it up. In either case, it worked and she felt her heart jump with joy for a moment.
“B-But the King has requested--”
“There you have it, I have been requested. Hence, since it is not a direct order, I can arrive at any time I desire or not at all. I see my father regularly. I haven’t seen my beloved in over a decade. I believe my father will agree who takes priority here,” Zhamir ended with a chuckle. “You may go and inform him of my decision, Captain.”
“At once, my Prince,” the Captain sighed. “And please, revered Shaman, enjoy your stay.”
With that said, the Captain and his contingent returned to the great castle standing atop in the center of the city. It lacked the impossible architecture of Canterlot, preferring a smaller but still beautiful, elegant, and prestigious house of power design, Zecora reasoned.
As they made their way into the city, a few scenes were starting to become common now that they were past the gates. Mares of various ages walked around with bulging bellies and having at least one little foal close with them. Some didn’t, indicating their stance as first-time mothers and others yet didn’t show any signs at all, having come out of a recent pregnancy or still too soon in the process for it to be noticeable.
One curious thing that Zecora did notice was the increased number of see-through dildos and buttplugs mares, mostly younger ones, were wearing. They were large enough to spread their anuses and pussies wide, letting anyone see their insides with the added bonus of not being a hindrance to spread their aromatic stinkiness. Equally without fail, she saw that all of them that noticed Zhamir bowed to their Prince in respect.
“Now, hold still, dearie,” a mother zebra said as her daughter, a filly old enough to have gone through her ritual of fertility but still young enough to still have her mane, was pressing her head against the ground and spreading her legs wide. All the while, the mother pushed a buttplug into her butthole.
“I-I think it’s too big, mommy,” the filly winced. Then, a second later it popped in. “uhhhh, that feels nice~ How does it look, mommy?”
“It looks perfect, my little angel!” The mother said proudly.
“Yaaaay! No way Kolori isn’t going to pay attention to me at school now!”
Zecora giggled but was surprised when she heard Zhamir chuckle, too. “Ah, young love. So fragile, so pure. Of course, you never had to do anything more than being yourself to captivate my heart, my beloved.”
“Your words of flatter are noted. Honey, sugar, and sweets, with them they seem to be coated,” Zecora replied, smirking and blushing in equal fashion. As they continued to advance, she didn’t miss the sad and heartbroken looks many young and available mares were giving them; no doubt the rumors about the Prince’s infatuation reaching every corner of Zebrica by now, a mere week after her arrival. So now seeing physical evidence of seeing him traveling with a mare was all the proof they needed.
She also noticed the weird looks and heard the murmuring voices of some of the onlookers, all of them directed at her. Most were harmless though a few were quite nasty… and all because she wasn't bald like them, because she wasn’t that traditionalist even despite the fact that she was a Shaman.
Eventually, they reached the busiest part of the city: the town square. Although comparing it to the town squares of Ponyville, Canterlot, or any other city across Equestria didn’t do it justice. In actuality, it was less of a town square and more of a conglomeration of several plazas divided into specific services. Most were dedicated to shopping, markets, stalls, and other trading businesses. One of which was rather interesting, as it was designated as the ‘Mare Beauty Plaza’. She knew of it but had never visited in the past. As they strolled through the various markets, deviating from his real destination, Zecora watched several posters all across the Mare Beauty Plaza.
Many were generic talking about creams, treatments, and even available jobs and careers fit for most simple-minded or busy mares. But there were a few that caught her attention the most. One depicted that happy mares were loyal and obedient to their husbands. Another one depicted in a rather direct way a mare with a gaping anus and pussy as cum leaked out of them both ‘A stinky, musky behind is the proof of servitude and inner beauty’. Yet another depicted a mare doing house chores and smiling widely under the slogan ‘A happy home has a happy wife. A happy wife is a dutiful mare’. Yet another flaunting her stinky bum and equally stinky bald head while below her, a list of herbs, oils, and prices on how to make them even more stinky and alluring to the stallions. One more showed a very young mare, barely out of fillyhood but heavily pregnant and smiling from ear to ear.
‘A mare’s duty is to give birth to more beautiful foals, take care of the house, help her husband, and raise them all properly. For what is more beautiful than a proud, pregnant mare?’ It read below it, a source of great pride for every mare inside the plaza.
But there was one that spoke to her the most. It was of a mare with large teats filled with milk as she fed two little foals. Below it there was a legend that read: ‘Being a mother is a pleasure only a worthy female can experience. Breastfeeding is something only we can do and we are rewarded with pleasure and the satisfaction of purpose. Be proud, get pregnant, and bring more children into our great Nation. For the future of Zebrica.’
They soon passed it, though the image lingered in Zecora’s mind for quite a while until they arrived at the Prince’s destination: the Couples Plaza. It was a large area dedicated to, as the name suggested, couples of all ages to come and have a typical date.
“I wish to bring you here on another occasion, my love,” Zhamir said, staring longingly at various couples chatting, kissing, and frolicking in various ways.
Zecora did a double-take upon hearing those words. “I am surprised you didn’t bring me here to have a date. I was sure that was your plan, if not, what’s the point of making the King wait?” She asked, her voice filled with curiosity while watching a stallion smelling the stinky bottom of his chosen mate and getting a visible erection because of it. Then again, most stallions in that plaza were in that same predicament as the overwhelming musky, stinky scent of so many mares mixed with the natural smell of the city itself and the other plazas made them incredibly horny. She knew public sex in most tribes far away from the capital and other major cities was a common thing, but not anywhere else as it brought with it a lot of troubles, and it was seen as rude to share such a display of passion in front of so many eyes.
“To show you what I want for us. What I wish to experience at your side. I want us to be a normal couple, not two royals seeking to backstab each other or a droll, boring date with the daughter of a noble that speaks nothing but politics, fashion, or the proper ways to be a mare. I have my mother and sisters for that kind of talk, hahaha!”
Zecora smiled, shaking her head. “Then I’m afraid you will find my talks more boring than the usual lot, my Prince. All I know is my trade, my secrets, and life far away from this, our home; you may find my words lacking proper quince.”
“But that’s exactly why I look forward to our dates once you give me permission to start courting you, my love! I want to know all about you! I want to know everything you’ve done and experienced during your travels in Equestria! I want to know more about ponies, their culture, their lives, how you interacted with them, and so much more! I want to know you, Zecora, my beloved, mu’lakazh eve’huen shika~”
Zecora’s face turned into a new shade of red after hearing him speaking the ancient language of the Shamans just to basically say--
“I love you with all my heart and soul, ruler of my desires,” he spoke in the common tongue now, and her heart soared once more.
“L-Let’s go meet your father and delay no longer! My mind is ablaze, so much to ponder! If I am to present myself to him, I must be at ease, calm of spirit, steady of heart. So shut your mouth and remain silent, beloved of my heart, for I cannot afford my focus to fall apart,” Zecora replied.
Zhamir laughed.
Chapter 3 End.
Author's Note
Special thanks to anyone that read this!
