Thomas strolled through the orchard, tilting his face up to catch the early morning sun. It was his favorite time of day in the monastery, when everything was quiet and the day was new. As a new initiate to the order, he was responsible for many of the simple tasks around the abbey, and one of his favorite tasks was gathering breakfast.

He set his basket down under a massive apple tree. The fragrance of the sun-warmed fruit made the whole orchard smell like heaven. He could easily reach the apples on the lower boughs from where he stood, but Thomas knew that the sweetest fruits would be at the top of the tree. Glancing left and right to make sure that nobody saw him, the young monk hoisted himself up into the thick branches.

Monks were supposed to be dignified and solemn, and climbing trees did not fall under either of those categories. Why, just last week the abbot had scolded him for singing to himself as he cleaned the kitchens. He could imagine the trouble he would be in if they found him up a tree like an oversized squirrel. But Thomas was young, just a little over 18, and those apples looked very tempting.

He pulled himself up into the upper branches of the tree, peering out through the leaves. Thomas could see over the monastery walls from this height. The sunlight sparkled on the sea, and he could feel the salty breeze whipping through his shoulder-length blonde hair. It would eventually have to be cut when he took his vows, but for now, he liked to wear it long. The young monk settled down onto a branch, gazing dreamily off into the distance.

Their monastery was situated on a low cliff overlooking the ocean, and the natural beauty of the place made their austere life worthwhile. Thomas pulled an apple from a branch and bit into it, savoring the tart sweetness. As he chewed with noisy abandon, his eyes swept the small beach that ran below the cliff.

There’s a ship down there, he realized. But it wasn’t the small trading boat that brought them supplies in exchange for their beer and books. The apple fell from his fingers when, to his horror, he realized that the sails were striped red and white. Viking raiders! He had to warn the brothers!

Thomas swung down from the tree so fast that he nearly broke his neck. Leaving his basket behind, the young monk raced toward the main gates, his heart pounding. He had heard stories of Vikings pillaging other monasteries in the area for food and gold, and of the atrocities that the wild men committed. They were supposed to be filthy heathen savages, with unnatural lusts and strange ways. The thought made Thomas shiver.

“Father Abbot!” He rounded the corner of the main abbey, shouting as loud as he could. “A Viking ship, on the beach! They-”

Thomas’ words died in his throat when he saw what was in the courtyard.

The abbot was on his knees and surrounded by a ring of huge muscular men. They were dressed in furs and leather and held all manner of sinister looking weapons: battle axes, spears, and giant swords. They spoke some strange language that Thomas didn’t understand, but their tone was mocking and cruel.

Thomas silently backed away, hiding behind the side of the building. Somehow, they hadn’t seen him yet. He heard crashes and splintering wood coming from inside the abbey; apparently there were more men, and they were looting his home. God help us, they’ll kill us all.

He looked around wildly, trying to figure out the best way to escape. But then Thomas saw the largest of the men shove the abbot roughly to the ground. The Viking stood over the fallen abbot and raised his sword, calling something to the others that made them all laugh.

Thomas never knew where he got the courage, but he found himself racing across the courtyard. Slipping between two of the big men who surrounded them, he jumped between the Viking and the abbot. The larger man actually took a step back, his eyebrows raised. Thomas was sure he was about to feel the bite of the sword in his own back, but he had to try. The abbot had been like a father to him.

“Leave him alone, you great hairy brute!” Thomas yelled. Mercifully, his voice didn’t crack. But he felt like a sheep trying to threaten a wolf as he stared up at the taller man.

The Viking’s chest was bare, and his hugely muscled shoulders were draped in furs, making him look more beast than man. Thomas could see he was marked with barbaric tattoos, the dark ink standing out against his fair skin. Long dark hair fell to his shoulders, and his eyes were a deep arctic blue. Thomas was startled at how handsome the man was; in the illustrations he had seen, Vikings were portrayed as demonically ugly. The Viking noticed Thomas’ scrutiny and smirked down at the young monk.

“You holy men, so eager to die,” the Viking said, pacing back and forth like a stalking predator. Thomas was shocked that he spoke his language, albeit broken and heavily accented. “Don’t worry, little sheep. You next, after old man.”

“Leave us be,” yelled Thomas. “We’ve done you no harm.”

The Viking said something in his language to his men that set them all laughing again. He reached out to Thomas, and the monk flinched, expecting to be hit. But to his surprise, the Viking had taken hold of a strand of his blonde hair and was examining it in the sunlight.

“Pretty as woman,” the Viking pronounced, with a smug grin. Thomas flushed with anger and embarrassment. “Fetch a fine price at slave market, Ormarr thinks.”

“Then take me and go, but spare the rest of my brothers.”

Thomas didn’t know who was more surprised by his bold statement, him, or the Viking - Ormarr, it seemed. But the big man laughed loudly.

“Sheep man has balls! Nobody ever stands up to Ormarr’s crew.” Thomas cringed as the Viking slipped a huge hand under his jaw, forcing his chin up so that he stared into the warrior’s deep blue eyes. “Ormarr will find better use for you than killing, little sheep.” The Viking barked an order. His men gathered their plunder, throwing kegs of beer and sides of meat over their shoulders to bring back to the ship.

Suddenly, two men seized Thomas’ arms. “What the- hey!” He yelled in shock as the Vikings hoisted him into the air like a sack of flour. The young monk squirmed and struggled, but it was like fighting two mountains. The Vikings laughed at his efforts until he managed to catch one in the shin with a lucky kick. Snarling angrily, the man swung his huge hand at the back of Thomas’ head. There was a sharp pain, and then darkness.

––––––––

Thomas awoke to pain in his wrists. Disoriented, his eyes fluttered open, then immediately shut against the blinding sunlight. Where am I?

Sudden realization made his eyes snap open this time. He gasped, taking in his surroundings.

The monk was tied to the mast of a Viking longship. Men walked the deck all around him, yelling to another in their strange savage tongue. Further down the ship, rows of oarsmen pulled with powerful strokes to propel them through the water. There was no sign of land on either side of the ship; only the endless dark sea. He was their captive, and completely helpless.

Thomas squirmed in a feeble attempt to free his wrists, but the bonds held firm. One of the men noticed his efforts, and he broke into a wide grin. “Ormarr!” The man yelled something else, and the surrounding crew burst into rough laughter.

He’s calling for their leader, Thomas thought, with a stab of panic. What would they do to him? Make him row the ship, probably. Or worse. He tried not to think about all the tales he’d heard of Viking brutality, but his palms began to sweat.

Thomas suddenly found himself surrounded by a circle of Vikings. He cringed as the burly men closed in around him. And suddenly, Ormarr appeared. The men stepped aside respectfully to let their leader pass. He looked every inch the warrior, with his free-flowing long hair and his savage finery. Thomas had not known that it was possible for men to be so large.

“You like my ship, little sheep?” The big Viking grinned down at him.

“My name is Thomas,” he answered. “And it’s very... nice.”

“And my crew?”

The monk stared at the ring of faces that surrounded him. They were all leering at him, their eyes raking his body. Probably deciding how best to kill him. “They look very fierce, sir.”

One of the men said something, and Ormarr chuckled. “They all like you, sheep Thomas,” said the Viking. He crouched down so that they were eye to eye. “Golden hair, sign of great beauty for my people.”

Thomas felt his cheeks getting hot as Ormarr reached out and took hold of his jaw. The Viking ran the tip of his finger over Thomas’ lips, and he instinctively parted them, shivering at the touch of the Viking’s calloused hand. Ormarr arched an eyebrow. “Oh, so willing to please? Ormarr planned to sell you to slave market in next village, but maybe you earn your freedom.”

Earn my freedom? What does he mean? Thomas stared into the Viking’s cold blue eyes.

“First, though, you convince my crew to let you go.” Ormarr smirked and stood up, taking a step back so that he rejoined the circle. “Gier! Olav!” Thomas licked his lips nervously as two of the crew stepped forward, one tall and lanky, the other short and heavy. “I promise you reward for saving my son during the last raid, yes? Here it is.” Ormarr gestured to Thomas like a fisherman displaying his catch.

The two warriors broke into wide grins. They moved so that they stood on either side of Thomas, close enough that he could smell the leather of their clothing. And to his shock, they both tugged at the laces that held their pants closed. Olav was the first to open his, and his cock sprang free, hard and huge. Gier followed suit, and Thomas stared from one to the other, comprehension dawning on him. He flushed scarlet.

“If you please my crew, we free you at next port,” said Ormarr. “So work hard, little sheep. Show them what you learned with your brothers. A whole abbey of men, you must be good.”

Thomas’ whole body felt on fire with shame. He was still a virgin, but lately he had been feeling some... unnatural lusts. Sometimes at night he would stroke himself, thinking about handsome Brother Luke who worked in the kitchens, or Brother Paul, well-muscled from working in the stables. He had always wondered what it would be like to be with a man. But thoughts like that were a sin. Weren’t they?

Gier cut the rope that bound him to the mast, freeing Thomas’ hands. He gazed up at the two Vikings who stood over him, holding their cocks out expectantly. Although they were wild brutes, they were both handsome, powerful men. Thomas felt his own shaft begin to stiffen. Well, if he was going to be killed anyway, why not experience some pleasures of the flesh before he died?

Thomas reached up, taking the men’s thick lengths in either hand. The Viking crew roared their approval. There was no privacy aboard a ship, so it seemed he would have an audience for his humiliation. Somehow, the thought excited him even more. He could see a thick drop of pre-cum on the head of Gier’s cock, and impulsively he leaned forward and lapped it up. It was salty sweet on his tongue, and the skin of the Viking’s cock was surprisingly silky. The tall man sighed in pleasure, watching Thomas closely.

Emboldened, Thomas leaned forward, taking the head between his lips. Gier’s shaft twitched as he swirled his tongue over the sensitive flesh. With his other hand, he began to stroke up and down Olav’s cock, bringing a groan from the other man. Thomas felt warm all over, lust enveloping him as he took more of Gier’s cock into his mouth. His own arousal was tenting the front of his robes.

Ormarr laughed. “Thomas enjoys this more than you two. Let’s see how much.” Thomas jumped as the Viking placed the tip of his sword under the hem of his robe. The blade was wickedly sharp, and with one upward stroke, the cloth fell away like cobwebs, exposing him from throat to knee. Thomas blushed as his arousal became apparent to the crew; he had never been so hard.

Impatient, Olav tangled his fingers in Thomas’ blonde hair, pulling his head around. Thomas obligingly parted his lips, allowing the Viking to push his cock deep into his mouth. He jumped as the head hit the back of his throat, only to withdraw and push in again. Olav groaned, murmuring something in their strange language.

“He says your mouth sweeter than woman’s,” Ormarr told him. Thomas felt a perverse surge of pride at that, and parted his lips wider to accommodate more of Olav’s thick shaft. The Viking tightened his grip on Thomas’ hair and began to thrust into his mouth. Thomas moaned as Olav drove into his sensitive throat, struggling to breathe as the man fucked his face. His own cock was rock-hard and aching with need, but something told him he would get any respite today.

Without warning, Olav shot his load into Thomas’ mouth, his groan bringing another shout of approval from the crew. The monk was so surprised that he swallowed instinctively, taking as much of the thick salty liquid as he could. The Viking grinned and stepped backward, releasing his hold on Thomas’ hair.

He didn’t have time to rest, however: Gier wanted his turn. The taller man impatiently thrust his cock into Thomas’ mouth, forcing him to take the whole shaft at once. Thomas nearly choked, but managed to keep breathing as the Viking pushed his length violently into his soft throat.

To Thomas’ surprise, the taller man abruptly pulled out of his mouth, stroking his cock furiously. He understood why, however, when Gier’s cum exploded all over his face and chest. He gasped as spurt after spurt covered him. The feeling of being degraded like this was actually incredibly arousing. I’m committing sin after sin, he thought. But worse than that, I don’t want to stop...

Ormarr had been watching the proceedings with a smirk, but now he moved forward. Grabbing Thomas’ wrists with one hand, the Viking lifted him into the air. “Let’s see if rest of you sweeter than woman,” the Viking growled.

The Viking pushed him, catching Thomas off balance. He fell forward onto his hands and knees, the rough planks of the deck digging into his palms. Immediately Ormarr seized what was left of his robe, ripping it off. Thomas found himself naked and totally exposed to the crew, but the feeling was thrilling. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Ormarr had unlaced his trousers and was rubbing some kind of oil up and down his cock. The sight made Thomas rock-hard with anticipation.

Ormarr used his oiled hands to spread Thomas’ ass cheeks apart, one finger rubbing teasing circles against his virgin hole. Thomas cried out, the shame he felt at being touched in such a way battling with the desire to be taken.

I shouldn’t, he thought desperately. I’ve spoken my vows, and I must remain pure and untouched. But the sensation was driving him to distraction, and soon all thoughts of vows were gone. He arched his back, pushing back against Ormarr’s exploring fingers.

He was rewarded when he felt Ormarr slide a thick finger into his virgin ass, the sensation tearing a moan from his throat. “Oh, so tight,” Ormarr murmured approvingly. “Virgin, for sure. How did you do it, with ass this sweet?”

It felt so strange and shameful to be penetrated, but somehow, so right at the same time. The Viking was surprisingly gentle with him as he slowly slid in and out of Thomas’ tight hole, stretching and spreading him open. Once Thomas grew accustomed to the sensation, he found himself pressing back against Ormarr’s finger, his body craving more. But the Viking suddenly pulled out of him, making Thomas whimper.

The Viking laughed, approvingly. “Ah, ready now, I think. Ormarr loves to take virgins,” he said, grabbing Thomas’ hips roughly. “Sad for you, Thomas, but Ormarr will be the best fuck you ever have. You will think of Ormarr, always.”

Thomas gasped to feel the massive head of Ormarr’s cock pressing against his pucker. The Viking gripped his hips with brutally strong hands, holding him firmly in place. Ormarr’s cock felt enormous against him. How could it possibly fit? But then the Viking began to push inside him, and Thomas lost all rational thought.

Inch by inch, Ormarr relentlessly penetrated him, filling him up with his thick shaft. The Viking groaned as he sheathed himself inside Thomas, burying himself balls-deep in the young monk’s virgin ass. “Worth the entire Abbey for this,” the Viking said hoarsely.

And then Ormarr’s cock hit something deep inside Thomas that made him see stars. It was an intense pleasure, unlike anything the monk had ever felt. He cried out, pushing back against Ormarr, craving more. The Viking obliged, pulling almost all the way out before slamming into him again. Thomas was panting with need, his world reduced to the pleasures of the flesh.

Thomas was startled when he felt something warm and wet hit his back. He glanced over his shoulder to see another of the crew standing over him. The man had his head thrown back and was jerking himself off, his cum shooting in thick spurts all over Thomas bare skin. Others were following suit, he saw, and soon he was enclosed by a ring of well-muscled men stroking their cocks. The sight made him moan.

One of the bolder ones pulled Thomas’ head up, shoving his cock into Thomas’ willing mouth. Each thrust from Ormarr forced the other man’s shaft down Thomas’ throat, and he moaned in ecstasy. He felt shameful, sinful, and he loved every second of it. More cum spattered his back and ass, the brutal men laughing and jeering as they used him mercilessly.

With a groan, the man he was sucking off blew his load, and Thomas eagerly swallowed every last drop as the hot liquid flooded his mouth. Behind him, he could feel Ormarr increasing his pace, each thrust sending his heavy sack slapping against Thomas’ ass. He felt a tightness growing in his tummy, a feeling that something was building inside him. Ormarr was pounding into him now, his tight grip on Thomas’ hips the only thing keeping him from being pushed forward with every brutal thrust.

Suddenly, Ormarr gave a bestial snarl, and Thomas moaned to feel the Viking shooting his load deep inside his ass. It seemed to never end, filling him up with the thick hot liquid. The sensation was too much, and it triggered Thomas’ own orgasm. The shock wave of pleasure nearly made him collapse as it surged through him. His cum spurted over his own chest and down onto the deck as Ormarr brutally pounded into him, forcing him to take every last drop.

When he came back to himself, Thomas groggily raised his head. Ormarr had slipped out of him and was re-lacing his trousers. The Vikings were all talking and laughing amiably as they went back to their duties. One even ruffled his hair like he was a pet dog! Thomas knew he should get up or cover himself, but the events of the day suddenly weighed down on him. Right there on the deck, in the midst of the chaos of the Viking ship, Thomas fell asleep.

––––––––

“Thomas? Thomas!”

His eyes fluttered open. Someone was calling him. Thomas pushed himself up to a seated position. He was lying on a beach, with no memory of how he’d gotten there.

Two men were running toward him, wearing the simple brown robes of their order. He was back home! They must have dropped him back off while he slept. They hadn’t bothered to drop off his clothes, however. Thomas blushed and covered himself as best he could as the two monks reached him.

“We thought you were dead!” Brother Luke pulled him into a fierce hug.

“No, no, they let me go,” Thomas said groggily, his speech muffled by Luke’s shoulder. “How is the Abbot? Is he harmed?”

“None of us were harmed,” said Brother Samuel, smiling down at him. “You saved us all, Thomas. It’s a miracle.”

Luke held him at arm’s length, his handsome features clouded with concern. “Did they harm you, Thomas?”

Thomas tried, but couldn’t manage to hide his smile. “No, I convinced them to spare me. As the good book says, we are all brothers on the earth, after all. And we managed to come to some common ground. Why, they even taught me a thing or two.”

Luke’s gaze drifted down Thomas’ nude body, and now that he knew the signs, there was no mistaking the look in the other’ man’s eye. “Well, we are so glad to have you back, Thomas,” said Luke softly. “But what could those wild men have possibly taught you?”

Thomas smirked. “Why, brother Luke, if you stop by my room later tonight I’d be happy to give you a demonstration.”