Legend of Garter Stitch and the Golden Socks of Gayness

A big storm had some out of the Everfree Forest, tearing up the countryside, including Garter Stitch's little cottage and pastures. While it raged outside the little green stallion hid in bed under his thick blankets, worrying about his sheep. The wind howled. He hugged a half-knitted stuffed pony he was working on. It didn't make him any less masculine, he told himself. Anypony would need a friend in a storm like this!

 

Sure enough, when the clouds broke and the sun returned, Garter peeked outside to find that his fences were destroyed and his little flock was nowhere to be seen. What if they went into the forest? He knew he should get help, but every second he waited was another second they would be in danger! He decided to take the risk and go into the forest himself. Maybe just a little ways...

 

Gerter felt very small under the dark, dripping canopy high above him. "Hello? Sheepies? It's okay, I'm here! Here, sheepy sheepy sheepies..."

 

He heard a snort, and a cloven hoof stamping on stone. An enormous golden ram, big as a heavy draft stallion, looked down on Garter imperiously from a promontory. He was broad-shouldered, with luxuriously long curled horns, an incredible male specimen. And his gaze seemed to penetrate the young stallion right to his heart.

 

"You're not my sheepy..." Garter blushed.

 

The ram climbed sure-footedly down the cliff face toward Garter, and Garter dared not run away. He stuttered to explain himself. "I, er, I know I said I was looking for sheep, but, well, y'see, I was looking for *my* sheep. They got lost in the storm."

 

The ram sniffed at Garter and seemed to be judging him with his eyes. Garter squeaked in fear. "I don't mean to do anything bad to them! They live in my pastures, and I feed them and give them treats, and every Spring I shear them and make nice things out of their wool. They're my special little ones..."

 

The ram rubbed its woolly flank against Garter as though marking his territory. Despite the creature's toned muscles and serious demeanor, his fleece was absurdly soft and pillowy. It made a tingle run up Garter's spine, made him think things he'd always been ashamed to think before. The ram nipped lightly at Garter's ear.

 

Garter blushed bright pink under his green fur. "So, uh, is that all right? Can we be friends?"

 

The ram nodded, then gestured with his head toward a game-trail in the forest. before walking that way. He expected Garter to follow, and Garter obeyed.

 

"So, uh, did my sheep go this way? Have you seen them? Is that why we're going this way..." Garter trailed off when he noticed that the ram in front of him was becoming aroused.

 

The ram showed the way to a patch of soft ferns, then circled back to walk alongside Garter. Garter knew what the ram wanted now. And to Garter's own surprise, he wanted to give it to him.

 

Garter nuzzled back against the ram's shoulder. He just couldn't get enough of the feeling of that soft fleece with rippling muscle underneath. "I, er, c-can you try not to be too rough? I haven't really exactly done this kid of thing before..."

 

As a reply, the ram gave Garter a nip on the neck that turned into a kiss. He would be firm yet gentle.

 

The ram was true to his unspoken promise. He mounted the smaller stallion carefully, never putting too much weight on him at once. He started slow, to make sure Garter had given in completely and was not going to raise any objections. And once their bodies were in sync, they made rough, passionate love in the bed of ferns where the sun peeked through the forest ceiling.

 

Afterward, Garter curled up in the ferns to give his sore hindquarters a rest while the ram grazed nearby. "Wow... That was amazing, but I, uh, I still have a problem. My sheep don't seem to be anywhere around here, and now's about the time I'm supposed to shear them and start spinning this year's yarn. I won't just lose them, but I'll have nothing to sell!"

 

The ram listened with disinterest, but he still listened.

 

Garter blushed again as he got an idea. "Hey... if you don't mind, sir, could I... would you mind if I... well... invited you back to my place? I could shear you. The days are getting warmer. It'd feel good to have a shorter coat, right?"

 

None of the ram's many previous lovers had ever presumed to make such a request. It seemed to amused him. He smiled dryly and nodded.

 

Garter led the way back to his little ranch. The ram listened with amusement as Garter showed him around and explained what everything was for. "That's my house. Right next to it is the barn. The sheepies stay in there on cold night sometimes, and that's where I keep all my supplies..." To demonstrate, he took a pair of shears in his mouth and flexed them a little. "It duvven't huwt, I pwomiff..."

Shearing the great ram was almost as erotic as being mounted by him. For the whole process, Garter's muzzle was right up in the ram's wool, feeling his body, swimming in his masculine scent. It gave Garter that funny feeling again, the feeling of wanting something no mare could give him. However, Garter was so sore that he wasn't sure if he could handle a second round, so he behaved himself and kept to his work. "Um, sir? Could you please lower your head just a little? I can't reach..."

 

The ram sat on the ground rather than lower his proud head, but still it was enough for Garter to clip off the last little tuft of long wool from between the ram's horns. The ram stood and shook himself. His new short coat flattered all of his toned curves, but Garter thought he liked the ram better when he was fluffy. "Well, that's it! Thanks so much for helping me out. I'll make sure to use this for something nice."

 

The ram started turning back toward the forest. Garter called out to him again. "Hey, wait!" When the ram looked back at him, though, Garter had trouble getting the words out. "You know, uh... you can come back and visit some time, if you want. But, uh, only if you want. We could just talk, or cuddle or something..."

 

The ram winked, then galloped back toward the treeline.

 

Garter Stitch spent a quiet evening at home, alternating between knitting the golden yarn and bottle-feeding a lamb who'd fallen ill. He'd only managed to knit a little square, but soon he'd have to decide what sort of thing he'd make with it.

Garter Stitch found out later that day where his sheep went: they'd run in the other direction, toward town. After he was done repairing all the fences and giving his sheepies a long-expected shearing, he was left with a big pile of wool and the question of what to do with it. While he spent his working days combing the wool, washing it, and spinning it into yarn, different projects came to mind: more cozy winter garments, blankets, stuffed toys and other novelties. Those would do for the normal wool he'd collected this year, but somehow none of it seemed good enough for he special golden wool he'd been given. He found himself thinking very often about that ram and their brief but passionate encounter. He would touch himself at night while thinking about being mounted again, and he'd wonder if the ram would ever come back. Sometimes he'd find himself sitting on his back porch and looking out toward the forest, just waiting for him. Every now and then he'd sniff at the golden yarn he made in the hope of catching a hint of the ram's natural scent. The modest collection of mare porn under his bed went unused that Summer.

 

But one day, as Garter was going into town for groceries, he decided that all this wistful brooding wasn't good for him. Maybe that ram wasn't ever coming back. He could probably have his pick of all the various forest creatures, after all, so what would he see in a simple earth pony? There were other fish in the sea. Like that handsome stallion standing ahead of him in line at a fruit stand! Maybe he'd try striking up a conversation.

 

He tried, but he was too shy to make an audible noise before the stallion made his purchase and trotted away. Maybe there was some other way to attract ponies, though. Maybe he could prove how great he was through his work. That's when he decided not to keep the golden yarn to himself. He'd make it into something wonderful, something that would make somepony else feel really good...

 

"Something... I dunno... cozy!" He spoke aloud to the lamb. He didn't get much company, so having someone to talk to helped him think, even if they couldn't quite understand him. "Something somepony would really want a lot. What would I want? That's a good question! I'm glad I talked to you about this."

 

"Mehhh!" said the lamb.

 

He paced across the floor back to his knitting table. "You know, these wooden floors get kind of cold at night, even in Summer! A rug wouldn't be nice enough, though. I want it to be something that feels like a hug..." He got to work on knitting a pair of socks. The idea made him all excited with anticipation. This wool was so soft... not itchy at all. It would be perfect! Touching it felt so good, it went to his head. He'd start to feel his arousal growing as he touched the work in progress, even though he hadn't been consciously thinking of the ram, or anything else for that matter. Once or twice he had to excuse himself to go and quickly masturbate. Once when he'd gotten into the comfortable repetition of knitting, the wool seemed to put him in a light trance, so that by the time Garter came to, he realized he'd made the first sock a lot longer than he'd intended! He'd meant for them to end just above the ankles, but now they would reach a fair distance up a pony's leg. He figured that wouldn't be so bad. There was still plenty of golden yarn left, and longer socks would just feel even more like a hug...

 

After making four long socks with the golden yarn, he left the rest rolled up in a ball in his room. He wouldn't have to give away ALL of the ram's gift to him; he could keep a little of it to remind him of his first time. That made it easier.

 

Now was the time to find somepony to give it to. Should he try to sell the socks in his little market stall? Or maybe he should give them as a gift, to make it more clear that he's looking for a special somepony. Garter wondered who would end up with them. Would he be big and strong? Would he be a good cuddler? Or would he turn out to be not a good match? Who's to say he'll even be interested at all? Most stallions don't go in for that kind of thing, Garter knew.

 

Garter didn't like thinking about his fear of rejection, so he tried the socks on to cheer himself up. They felt lovely. He immediately wanted to spend a whole lazy day in the house with them. But then that funny feeling came back, and he started thinking about something else: being mounted again. He needed to be mounted, by a ram, a stallion, anything! moaning like a mare in heat, he went to his room. After turning his stuffed pony to face the wall so it wouldn't see, he desperately experimented with humping pillows, stroking himself, rubbing under his own tail. After he finally managed to bring himself to a blushing, screaming orgasm, he took off the socks, and he felt a little better. He tidied up his room again, feeling a little ashamed for being such a slut with hardly any self-control. He had no idea that the socks themselves might be influencing him...

 

The next day, Garter decided to take some of the goods he'd knitted to market, including the special socks. The weather was still warm, so business was slow, but he sold a few normal socks and blankets, and spools of yarn to the young fillies who did their own knitting. He also sold the little stuffed pony who'd had to hear his shameful display the other night, letting her go with a whispered apology. "I'm sorry. Go be with somepony who doesn't have to worry about that stuff for a long time."

 

He heard a voice. "This is fine work. You put a lot of care into these." It was a stallion's voice! Usually it was only mares who had the interest or the knowledge to talk to him in detail about knitting. Garter turned to see a tall stallion with a light brown coat and a jaunty newsboy cap. This could be a chance to make a new friend, maybe more...

 

Garter grinned and nodded, instinctively lifting his tail. "Thank you, sir! I do my best to make things ponies will enjoy. I think my best work so far is these..." He passed forward the special socks. "M-my name's Garter Stitch, by the way. It's nice to meet you..."

 

The stallion nodded and inspected the golden socks. "Really soft! I've never felt something like this. Tell you what, I'll take it!"

 

Garter's eyes lit up. as he took the handsome stranger's money. "Wow, really! I'm so glad! They'll look great on you, if I may say so. Really bring out the warm tones in your coat."

 

The stranger laughed. "Who, me? No, silly, these are for my fillyfriend."

 

Garter couldn't remember ever feeling more ashamed. He'd just flirted with another stallion pretty openly, only to find out he wasn't interested! He tried to save face. "Oh,right, of course. She'll love them! So, uh, are you new in town? I don't think I've seen you around before."

 

The stranger tipped his hat. "Yeah, we just moved here. Nice big house. She's always complaining about the cold floors, though."

 

Garter nodded in understanding. "It's a common problem! Anyway, er, welcome. What's your name?"

 

"My name's Tough Nails. I do some woodworking around here. Well, guess I'll see you around!"

 

"Uh, y-yeah, you too..."

 

Garter Stitch immediately hated himself for selling the socks to a pony who would even appreciate them. He would have objected, but he was too shy to say anything about it. Maybe his plan to attract a special somepony was kind of half-baked to begin with. Maybe he needed some other way to meet stallions...

 

He tried asking advice from an old friend, someone who'd helped him learn to take care of animals back when they were very young. He showed up at the Apple farm to find a huge red stallion pulling a plow.

 

Garter stuttered a little. "Um... hi. Is Applejack home?"

 

"Nope."

 

"You're her brother, huh?"

 

"Yup."

 

"Wow... you got big..."

 

"Yup."

"You, uh, you need any help with that?" Garter started imagining Big Mac treated him like that ram did in the woods, acting all possessive, mounting him... It made him all weak in the knees!

 

Big Mac looked down at the ground he was working and thought it over for a moment. "Nope."

 

Garter squeaked and struggled to find something else to say. "Wait! I mean, uh, I didn't mean to suggest that you didn't have things under control. Clearly you're a really big strong stallion, with those huge shoulders, and I bet you smell really nice..."

 

Big Mac raised an eyebrow. "Um..."

 

Garter blurted it out, "Okay, lemme just admit while I'm here. I was hoping Applejack could give me some advice on meeting ponies, 'cause she seems to have a lot of friends, but what I really want is a stallion! I know, Apple and I kind of dated that one time, but I've kind of figured myself out a little better, since this one thing happened in the woods, and I've decided I'm pretty much gay an' stuff. But now I'm kind of hating myself for being such a shut-in and spending all my time alone with my sheepies and my knitting, 'cause now I have no idea where to start! Do you guys ever have a problem like that! Like, uh, balancing work and life, or something like that?"

 

Big Mac had plowed two new furrows while Garter had been talking. He wasn't really paying attention. "Huh?"

 

Garter tried keeping it simple. "Do you like other stallions, Big Mac?"

 

"Eeyup."

 

"Would you consider, er, g-going out with me?"

 

"Nope."

 

Garter gasped in exasperation. "WHY NOT?!"

 

Mac chewed on a piece of straw. "Seein' somepony else."

 

Mac wasn't completely unhelpful, though. In the days to come, he invited Garter Stitch to a few stag nights, though Garter was surprised to find there were no stags involved, just stallions playing cards and drinking Cold Ones. Everypony seemed to be totally accepting of Garter, but none of them seemed to be available. Often Garter would go home afterward and rub one out while thinking about one of them and nuzzling his ball of gold yarn. Maybe thinking about more than one of them. Or all of them at once, or taking turns on him. Mmm...

 

One evening, Garter ran into Tough Nails again on the way to see his new friends. That certainly surprised him! He'd never expected to see the tall stallion again; he'd even half-forgotten about him. But here he was, greeting Garter with a very friendly bump on the side. "Hey there, Garter! Long time no see."

 

"Yeah! I, er, I was just, uh, going that way. How did your fillyfriend like my socks?"

 

"Oh, her. She didn't see what the big deal was with them. That was kind of the beginning of the end for us, I guess. I mean, if she won't admit that these are obviously the best socks money can buy, she must have just been trying to put me down. So we're kind of on a break now."

 

"Oh... W-well, I don't know if they're the best socks money can buy, but I certainly think they're special. I'm glad you think so, too."

 

"So now I guess I'm between fillyfriends again, so I've got more free time. Gotta look on the bright side. What are you up to, sport?"

 

"Erm... I was just gonna go play cards with some friends. You want to come along?"

 

"Sure! Let's go!" Tough Nails slapped him lightly on the flank to signal that they should get going.