From Behind Crimson Curtains

A/N: This is a MATURE fiction, and it also does contain the issue of rape. If this isn't your cup of tea, go back to whatever it is you were doing and spare yourself the scarring. Otherwise, read on.

Linen Spool awoke from his bed with a frightful shout. He clutched his chest, huffing to catch his breath, and suddenly aware of the ludicrous amount of sweat that poured from his body. Running a shaky hoof through his mane, he got out of bed and steadied himself, looking into his own reflection in his dresser's mirror.

What he was staring at was a sleep-deprived mess of a unicorn stallion... if he could even be considered one at his age. His wavy short mane just barely covered his eyes, giving the impression that he was unkempt almost all the time, even though it was his natural hair style. He huffed upwards and cleared the eyesight for his right eye, glad to see that he was only bad, but not worse.

It was still early in the morning. Glancing at the clock, he'd noticed that he had only gotten less than a few hours of sleep, and he was too awake now from his dreams to bother going back. It didn't matter, anyway; it would only result in more nightmares. His bed seemed to be the last place for him to get a good night's sleep these days.

He walked downstairs and into his work room, the table still lined with his scissors, needles, and spools from the day before. Using his magic, he quickly sorted them all out into a neat and arranged pile, categorized according to use. A tired smile stretched across his lips as he took his seat at the table, putting his head down to rest. His workstation always put him at calm and peace, and it wasn't long until he had drifted off to the joyful lift of slumber.

It had been over four months ago when Linen had arrived in Ponyville. The day was bright and clear, and Linen himself had already suffered enough social anxiety just trying to arrive here from Canterlot. It didn't help that his parents were constantly on his case, trying to push him out of his own home to meet other ponies... and mares.

Linen suffered from social anxiety, and the worst kind at that: talking to anypony would immediately put him on edge, and if left unattended, he eventually suffered a nervous breakdown. That had happened more times than Linen would have liked to admit... if there was even anypony he could admit it to. His contact list wasn't exactly brimming with entries.

He'd only just settled into his own home in the early morn when he decided to locate his venue of employment: Quills and Sofas, under the ownership of one Davenport. He'd met the stallion several times before, and though Linen's anxiety had still held its effect then, he managed to bear through their conversations enough for him to offer him a job at his shop, as an upholstery mender. Apparently, Ponyville seemed to have a lot of torn upholstery, what with the town's normal antics, so he figured his talents would be worthwhile there.

So it was agreed upon that Linen would start working one week after he began to move in, but for the sake of expediency - and to rid himself of the annoying social airs that permeated Canterlot like a plague - he decided to go early, and perhaps become acquainted with the town to better his adaptation from city life to town life.

Unfortunately, he picked the worst time to move: it was mating season in Ponyville.

He didn't realize it at the time, but Davenport, along with every single stallion in Ponyville, had skipped town to avoid the rush of hormone-induced fervor that gripped the town around this time of year. To say that mares went wild would be putting it lightly, and with no stallion in town, they went mad trying to pleasure themselves... a process that took a week at best without the intervention of the opposite sex.

Except there was a stallion in town, and the minute they all heard about it, they bore down upon him like a thousand arrows blot out the sun.

Poor Linen Spool had been examining the local architecture, namely the stores, when he happened upon the first mare. She was a unicorn, much like himself, and had blue fur with a two-toned white-and-blue mane. Linen immediately grew nervous upon seeing her, and even more nervous when she approached him.

"Hey, there..." she said huskily. "I'm Colgate... what's your name?"

"I... uh, I'm... Linen... Spool..." he said. It would be better to say that it barely came out as a squeak, and he slowly began to back away. Colgate wouldn't have it, however, and advanced towards him, canceling out his retreat. His body locked up and his mind flipped into a state of panic, unsure of what to do in this situation.

"Aw... you're a shy one, aren't you?" she said, walking around him. He felt her tail suggestively swish at his flank, and it was with that revelation that Linen realized that he had arrived in Ponyville at the worst time possible. She leaned in next to his head, as he felt a cold bead of sweat go down the side of his face. "It's okay... I think shy ones are just... absolutely... adorable."

He began to feel his legs quaver as she gently nuzzled him up and down his neck, her mouth revealing sweet gasps as she basked in the touch. "Uh... m-miss, I d-don't t-think you should be d-doing that..." Linen said.

"Oh, why not?" she said lustily. "You know, if you have such a problem with it... you can just punish me for being such a bad, bad filly... in any - way - you - want," she continued, kissing him slowly up his neck as she closed her sentence.

His brain reached critical levels as he immediately shifted towards his first and immediate reaction towards any situation that sent him over the edge. It was a sure-fire, one-hundred percent proven method to always work in any case where he needed an immediate exit from crippling social anxiety and the unwanted consequences surrounding them.

He ran. He ran like there was going to be no tomorrow.

Colgate gave a shout of disapproval as it became plainly obvious to him that there were no stallions in town. He was on his own, so this was going to be quite the bind to get out of. As he rounded around each street corner, the number of mares chasing after him grew. It wouldn't be long until he became exhausted despite his adrenaline, and he would be at the mercy of dozens of horny mares.

"Come back here, you cute stud! We want to rut you!" he heard one of them shout. His mind was frazzled: he was sure that any other stallion would have taken that as a compliment, but simply being forced to deal with other ponies in conversation, even if it contained nothing but praise, registered but one thing in his mind: BAD. It was a wonder that his legs even still worked with the quaking that his body was going through.

As he ran down the street, he noticed a park with an adjoining bathroom nearby. So there was another option... he clenched his eyes shut as he focused his magic, hoping dearly that it would work. A magical field instantly appeared around him, and then he disappeared with a flash, leaving a group of disappointed mares to whine and search for him.

Linen opened his eyes, taking a huge gasp of breath. It had taken him ages to perfect that teleport spell, and this was the first time he'd ever used it. He was glad that it worked when it did. Looking around to make sure there weren't any other ponies - well, this was the stallion's room in the bathroom, so there were none - he turned on the sink and washed his face off, barely able to decently grasp the handle.

"Th--that..." he gasped. "...was... was absolutely... terrifying..."

"Heehee, yeah, I know, right?! Who knows what would have happened if they caught you!" His eyes widened in horror as he turned around to find a pink mare aiming a cannon at him.

It was the last thing he remembered before he went unconscious.

Linen opened his eyes, his heart beating in his ears. He shook his head, trying to clear himself of the dream-induced nausea, attempting to recall the location of the clock in his work room to orient him. It was nearly morning now... and that meant that he'd gotten at least an hour of sleep. It would have to do for today.

He strolled into the kitchen, pulling out a sandwich he'd made less than eight hours ago, taking in sustenance for his weary body. Lunch would have to be skipped today: he'd probably ask Davenport to pick something up for him when he came to take the register, and he would have time alone in the back room working on repairs.

With a lift of his magic, he quickly pulled all his work materials into his saddlebag, ready to work for the day. His tasks were the only reprieve he had from the chaos of the world around him: he could focus intensely on nothing but the needle and the cloth before him, weaving in and out between the fabric and deftly closing it with a number of quick threads. Even when he was tired, working relaxed him.

The newspaper on his doorstep was unceremoniously kicked inside his home as he closed and locked the door. The morning held a sky of a most majestic orange-blue hue, a beautiful sight that greeted his way to work every morning. He'd taken a slice of toast for today's breakfast, a meager fare that would serve as his only nourishment until the mid-morning.

A swift breeze trailed through his unkempt mane, a reminder to him that perhaps sleepless nights were beginning to take its toll on him. He had forgotten to shower the night before... and he considered seeing a therapist, but even the mere thought of interaction already made him queasy. It was a barrier, a very large one, and one that he was loathe to overcome.

And then there was the dream... it kept replaying in his mind night after night, an endless torment that never ceased its picking apart of his own psyche. At times, it would just be parts, but other times, the whole event would play out, leaving him a mess when he woke up. He didn't know how to rid himself of it, and had been having sleepless nights since then.

Linen walked up to the door of Quills and Sofas, bringing out a small key to unlock the front door. The sign within was switched from 'Closed' to 'Open', and he took up his place behind the front register, ready to attend to the beginning day's needs. He double-checked the register as per store protocol to ensure all contents within were intact, and then brought out his needle and spool.

He never inquired as to how the item had been damaged, only giving a glance at it and then estimating the total time it would take to restore it to a pristine state. Some of them had been returned even newer-than-new, as Linen had a knack for creating his own style of fabrics that were similar to the common-used ones, but held a quality far higher than one would find on the market. Sales of those fabrics had made him a tidy sum back in Canterlot, and were what allowed him to move to Ponyville despite having no job.

Levitating the small office chair to him, he quickly analyzed the damage and began to work. The cloth on the rims had been stretched horrifically, indicating that some water damage must have been present. Minor scorch marks present on the sides indicated that it must have been dried with amateur means... but nonetheless, it was an easy repair to make.

Using measuring tape, he recorded the specifications of the chair's cloth cover components, and set to work on making a replacement for it. He levitated a roll of cloth out from the shelf behind him, one of dozens, but this one conforming best to the color and texture of the chair's seat. A length was stretched and cleanly cut with a run through the scissors, and then he was sketching out the parts to put together.

The process had taken but a moment, Linen's expertise in cloth-making unmatched by anypony - though, that was really ironic considering that he had nopony else to compare himself against. He cut out the pieces, stitching in the buttons and extra flair that matched the rather posh chair. When all was in place, he began his final run: the construction of the cover itself.

He removed the old chair cover with a sharp cut from his knife and tossed it into the trash. This particular item had a cover that was sewn over the original seat instead of acting as a detachable cover that could be more easily replaced. Linen paid it no mind; he preferred it this way since he could simply wrap and mend the whole piece together. His magic flared to life and the needle weaved through the cloth at lightning speeds; to a passerby, they would see Linen putting together a masterpiece from scratch and then putting it all together in a span of less than half a minute.

Carefully setting down the item, he placed it aside. Davenport had arranged for pickup this afternoon, and Linen hoped that the customer would be satisfied with his work.

"Wow, that was amazing work!" Linen gasped and looked up to see a mare leaning over the counter, looking at the office chair. "Are you new here, you--" She stopped and her face darkened. "Oh... I... I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was... I'll... I'll just be going now, sorry for bothering you." Her gaze drifted to the floor and she quickly left the store.

Linen sat back, his mind reeling from the instant surge of nausea in his body. He was thankful that the conversation had only lasted as long as it did, but the mare did seem familiar... he hadn't even noticed her walking in through the door, and it was equipped with a bell that rang every time somepony opened the door.

And then he remembered who the mare was.

She was Colgate.

"Out of my way, everypony! I saw him first, so I get first dibs!" Colgate said, laughing hysterically. "Oh, you and me, we're going to have so - much - fun."

"Mmm! Mmph mmrrrmm mmmmrr?!" Linen murmured from behind his cloth mouthwrap. His eyes shot around the room, noting all the mares who stood around him, staring at him with hungry eyes. He looked up and noticed the wide-arched ceiling and multi-tiered floors of the building he was in. Judging by the height, it was none other than the Ponyville Town Hall.

"Oh, you're right... don't worry, I won't take too long. You have to pleasure all the other mares here, too, after all..."

"MMMRRMMM?!" He fervently shook his head, pulling at his restraints, until Colgate stepped forward and scared him into stopping.

"It's alright, sugarcube..." an orange earth pony from his left said. "We just gotta get our kicks off, and then you'll be free to go, okay? We - er, I promise... not sure about the other mares here."

"MMRM?!" He shook his head again. Not like this! He didn't want it to be like this! He was going to get all these mares pregnant against his own will?! "MMMRM! MMMMMMMMRM! MREH MMRE MRUHHH!" Failure was ostensibly clear, but he endeavored to try to appeal to their senses anyway... for what good it would do for him.

Colgate levitated him and lay him on the floor on his back, straddling him and nuzzling his neck. "It's okay, I'll take really good care of you. I just love the shy types."

Another mare, which Linen couldn't see, stepped forth with the sound of her hooves clopping.

"Ready, Colgate?" she asked.

"Just do it already, damnit!"

He felt a warm sensation in his lower regions, and then - oh, Celestia, no! A gasp of shock reverberated through his wrapped lips as the mare slowly began to take his stallionhood into her mouth. The feeling cascaded up and down his length, bringing it to attention as Colgate kissed his neck, giving soft and arousing sighs so close to his ears. As much as he fought against it, he couldn't deter his body's urges from taking over.

"Mmrm! Mrrm!" he repeated, shaking his head madly, tears streaming out of his eyes. His member was being pleasured while his body simultaneously exploding into panic, shaking with a violent force. He looked into Colgate's eyes, pleading to her for salvation with a quiet whimper.

"It's okay..." she whispered. "Don't fight back... just... enjoy it..." With that, the mare below quickly stepped back, and Colgate lowered herself onto his spear. "Ah... AHH!"

Linen had closed his eyes, his breathing erratic and strained, as Colgate straddled him. He fought to control himself and his body, but it was an exercise in futility as he could only delay the inevitable.

"Wow..." Colgate said, staring down at him with her sapphire eyes. "You're... not half-bad... you know? AHH!" She threw her head back, moaning with such lust-driven force. Many of the mares around them had taken to pleasuring themselves - and each other, depending on the couple - as they watched the scene unfold before them.

"Ah... ah... AH!" Colgate's thrusts into him quickened as she came closer to climax. Linen's body responded in kind, his erect member sending jolts of pleasure and ecstasy through his head. He felt himself coming to a peak, and tightened himself as Colgate synchronized with him, shooting his seed into her with powerful spurts.

She lay on his shoulder, taking slow controlled breaths, and sliding off of his spear with a sloppy wet noise. Her smile indicated that she'd been satisfied... for the time being, at least.

Linen, however, did not share her contentedness. He took in air through his nose, body still reeling in shock from his anxiety and aftermath of the intercourse. He had just impregnated a mare... there was no way he would ever be able to live this down. He felt ashamed and terrified of himself, wanting desperately to be somewhere else, anywhere other than where he was right now.

There was the teleport spell, but he couldn't use it. It required a line of sight to a location and at least a respectable knowledge of where one would end up. The only thing his vision entailed was the ceiling of the Town Hall and a circle of mares around him. He had nowhere to go.

"Ooooh! Me, me! I'm next!" The same pink mare that had captured him stepped forth and hopped over him, staring down into his eyes. "Hey, there! Sorry I'm so hyper, but it's mating season, and mares are always funny like that, and I took the liberty of giving all the mares contraceptives so we won't end up getting preggers with foals, since that's really, really bad, and nopony wants to end up having a bad time, so I decided to bake them into my cupcakes and gave them to all the mares--"

"Pinkie! Just get on with it!" another mare shouted. "We all want to buck him, you know!"

"Okey dokie lokie! Oh, I almost forgot!" She quickly undid Linen's mouthwrap as he gasped for air.

"N-no, w-wait, p-puh-please stop! I-I don't want to--!" he managed until Pinkie stuck a cupcake into his mouth.

"Chew, chew, and swallow! Okay!" She re-tied the mouthwrap in the blink of an eye. "We're going to have so - much - fun - together!" she said, her face inching closer and closer to him, her eyes filled with the flames of lust. "That cupcake is loaded with all the stuff that can keep a stallion going all night long!"

So this was it. His introduction to Ponyville's denizens was to buck every single mare in town. Just how many stallions were living here? Just how many would visit his grave when this was all over? Pinkie began to slide her marehood against his half-flaccid penis, bringing it back to attention as she began to take her turn with him...

Linen finished the final stitch on the red-colored office couch's velvety cloth. It had been torn in several places and he had to restitch over the damage, though he believed he did a rather good job in making the tears more transparent when he repaired it.

He looked at the clock: it was nearing ten in the morning. That meant that Davenport would be arriving soon, and he could retire to the back room to work in peace. It was fortunate that not many customers ever came in during the morning; at the beginning, he'd merely assumed that the mares knew where he worked, but he quickly discarded the idea when he realized that almost nopony woke as early as he did. Perhaps they never had much reason to visit the store until they had free time later in the day.

Colgate's visit had merely been coincidence, then... after the 'event' months ago, nopony dared mentioned it at all. When he looked out the windows, the strangely mare-dominant town seemed to go about their daily business as if nothing ever happened... perhaps they merely thought he was passing through town? Maybe it was better that way: thinking about it made him nervous, and he'd realized a month or so in that he had subconsciously become terrified of mares... and cupcakes.

The sound of bells ringing greeted his ears, and Davenport appeared before him. The owner of Quills and Sofas dropped his bag behind the counter, readying himself for the day.

"Good morning, Linen. How have you been?" He pulled out several files and put them on the desk. Most certainly manifests for new quill shipments that would arrive later this week.

"I... uh, I've been well... sir..." Linen meekly responded.

"That's good to hear. You can head on back now." He took a look at the office chair that Linen had fixed earlier that morning. "Excellent work! I... uh, what was the damage on this one again?"

"Water and fire damage, sir."

"Very impressive. You managed to make a new cover for it, and you replicated the entire intricate design from scratch! And in the span of a morning, no less! You should be proud of yourself, Linen."

"Uh... t-thank you, sir..."

"Don't be so modest, you deserve every bit of praise you get. Anyway, I know you still have... problems... speaking to other ponies, so perhaps you could work the front desk for a while longer and maybe tend to some of the regulars? I have to head into the back office for a moment and check on the special commissions I've gotten."

"Oh, uh... of course, sir, no problem."

"Thanks." Davenport disappeared as Linen sat alone. He had nothing much to do until he relocated to the back room since that's where most of his repairs took place, as well as acting as a storage location for the rest of the repair orders. Since he was always in the back room, he'd never met any of Davenport's regulars before; he just hoped that they weren't inclined to visit today, or at least when he was still working the desk.

Unfortunately, it was not to be. Another ring of the bell told Linen that a customer had entered. The top of the pony's head could be seen as it walked down the line of shelves leading to the main showroom where the sofas stayed. There was a horn on top of the pony's head... unsurprisingly, it seemed that unicorns frequented this store often.

The pony, now revealed to be a lavender-colored mare, bounded around the corner. "Hello, Davenport, do you--" She stopped when she saw Linen staffing the front desk. "Oh... uh... hello... I - I didn't know you worked here," she laughed, looking away awkwardly, having been part of the group of mares who had their way with him. "Is... is Davenport here?"

Linen made no attempt at eye contact, staring down at the polished wood of the counter. "He... h-he's in his office right... now... he'll... uh, he'll be back in a moment," he whispered.

An ensuing game of blundering silence carried on for several minutes.

"So... uh... when did you start working here?" she asked.

"Uh... just... just a few months ago... when I first... moved... here..."

"Oh..." she giggled shakily. "Th - that's... great. Do you just... work the desk...?"

"No... I work as an upholstery mender..."

"Oh! So you were the one who fixed my floor cushions last week! You did a fantastic job with those."

Linen felt himself blush. "Th--thank you..."

"Okay, now I have that sorted out," Davenport said, exiting his office. "Okay, Linen, I'll take over from here and - oh! Miss Sparkle! Yes, yes, your special quill, made to order straight from Canterlot." He turned around and looked at the shelf. "Now where did I leave that confounded box...? Ah! Here it is!" He pulled out a small rectangular box, and placed it on the counter. "Here you go, Miss Sparkle, right on time."

"Thank you, Davenport," she said, smiling as she used her magic to levitate the box into her saddlebags. "I'll be sure to keep you in mind if I need any more quills... or sofas! Have a nice day!" She gave a kind nod and hurried out the door.

"Well... she certainly seems busy today..." Davenport noted. "It's alright now, Linen, I'll take over from here. I trust the conversation with her wasn't too awkward?"

"It... it was... okay..."

"Alright, then. There's not a lot of repair orders to be done today, so feel free to leave whenever you finish." He turned his attention back to the files on his desk, the sound of a quill scratching against parchment fading through the air as Linen retired to his workplace sanctum.

He had never told Davenport of the events that transpired when he first moved to Ponyville. All Davenport knew was that Linen had settled in and showed up to work on time for his first shift that day. He noticed several other stallions around town, though they were never in numbers comparable to mares. They returned around the same time Davenport did; apparently, they were all working together to avoid capture. He couldn't fault Davenport for not knowing when he'd actually move in.

He gave a quick huff as he blew the dust off his workstation. There was a number of furniture to be repaired, as well as new curtain orders that needed to be answered, so he began his day's work in earnest. He pulled out half a dozen rolls of cloth and several spools, drawing out shapes and snipping out lengths with his scissors, the sun reflecting off the floor through the window just to his right.

The early evening when Linen finished his work. A good chunk of Quills and Sofas' income came from Linen's exceptional ability to mend almost anything with cloth, and Davenport was hugely thankful for that. This batch of orders would hold them through another week, or at least until more repair orders came in.

He walked out of the back room, saddlebags loaded with his work materials. "Uh... Davenport, I'm... finished."

Davenport wheeled around in the front chair. "Oh? Fantastic. I'll notify all of the recipients to come in tomorrow and pick them up. You can head on home now. Ah, and for today's work..." Davenport tossed him a hefty bag of bits, which LInen caught and tenderly stored in his bags. "...you do great work. I can't believe nopony in Canterlot knew who you were; you're criminally under-appreciated."

"Uh... thank you, sir," Linen said, always the embarrassed one when he received compliments.

"You're a good kid, Linen..." Davenport said, before giving a sigh. "Listen... you look like a mess right now. Take the rest of the week off."

"Huh? B-but, sir, I can--"

"No arguments," Davenport interrupted, holding up a hoof. "You look like a complete mess, and I think your anxiety is starting to disorganize you again. Take the rest of the week off and rest up. You can come back at the beginning of next week. Okay?"

"I..." Linen found no argument, and lowered his head. The sudden awareness of fatigue produced a dull and dead feeling in his chest. "Yes, sir."

"Don't beat yourself up over this, Linen. You're a good kid, and I'm glad to have you here. But I want to look out for you, too, as both your boss and your friend. Did something happen recently?"

"W-well... not... recently... but I've been having nightmares... and I don't get much sleep anymore."

"Hmm... well..." Davenport said, fiddling around in his chair and thinking. "...have you considered speaking to a therapist? I'm just hazarding a guess, of course, not really saying that you have to do it... You might get some results, but I'm worried that since you already have enough trouble just trying to talk to ponies, it's going to be even worse if you're trying to talk to them about something important and personal."

"I think I can do without, sir... I'll just try to get some sleep."

"Okay, then, just throwing that idea out there. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will, sir. Good evening," Linen concluded, exiting the store as his eyes were greeted with the orange-red rays of the lowering sun. There was a light breeze on the wind, cool but with a comforting warmth unlike the morning. It was probably the first time he'd been able to leave the store early after finishing his work.

That, however, meant that ponies were still out and about, either retiring to their homes or visiting places for a night out on the town. And, unfortunately, a good majority of them happened to be mares.

He passed by several groups, pairs, and lone mares, all happily oblivious to his existence and too busy enjoying their own time to pay attention to the shy stallion. Slightly lowering his head as he walked and keeping his gaze transfixed to the ground in front of him was a minor relief in trying to avoid eye contact, but there were the obvious red flags: whispering, close proximity, laughing, and a variety of other things in a social situation made him hold his breath and induced either paralysis or instability in his legs.

It felt like an eternity before he was able to reach home. He was sure that during his journey back to the safety of his front door, he must have been seen by at least several dozen ponies, if not more. Next time would be different: he would just stay at work until nighttime and then retire home under the cover of darkness like normal.

As he fished through his bags for his house key, he noticed something odd that gave him pause. On his doorstep sat a single pink-wrapped box with a note attached to it... one of many that he had been receiving since he moved into Ponyville. Who was sending this to him? Why were they even doing it? He'd never properly introduced himself to anypony in town save for Davenport, so who could be leaving these boxes on the step with him? Did they want to... talk with him?

The thought immediately tightened his chest. No, he would not touch the box, nor the note. He would leave it at his doorstep like so many times before, and it would be gone by next morning, like so many times before. The contents of the note would be better left unknown to his precious psyche; he dared not find out what sort of comments would be waiting for him within, whether it be praise or... worse.

Home was a reprieve from the world outside to Linen, his safe haven, where none could do him harm. In here, he could work to his heart's content and never have to worry about ending up somewhere he didn't want to be, where he had no choice but to face the music and succumb to his fears of being surrounded by ponies. It was quiet, it was isolated, it was... home, and he felt so weary, but glad, that there still existed a place in this world where he could be himself.

Normally, he would have gone straight to business in his work room, but today had involved interaction, and that left him physically and mentally drained. Tossing his bag by the door and setting the lock with a mindless wave of his hoof, he stumbled his way upstairs and collapsed on his bed. His eyelids began to close as the sun from the window flushed in through the window, painting his bedroom floor with such a soothing orange glow. He smiled to himself before he slept, thinking of how perfect the match was with his velvet curtains.