Important note
This a story of gay fiction for a mature audience. It contains consenting sex between men. If this offends you, leave or is illegal where you live, leave now. If you enjoy the stories on the site, donate to Nifty to keep the site going. Becoming a monk is not an easy journey and being faithful to the Rule and living a pure life can be a challenge.
Monastery bells
I was told that a monk is one called to seek God. The monastery where I lived followed the Rule of St Benedict. He described the life of a monk as both a journey and a labour of obedience. We are led by the abbot who "holds the place of Christ" in our community.
In Benedictine monasteries, we make a vow of "stability in this community, fidelity to the monastic way of life and obedience", according to the Rule of St Benedict. We embrace obedience as it liberates us in our efforts to imitate Christ.
The Rule of St Benedict contains directions for almost every aspect of monastic life, including how we pray, dress, eat, sleep, and work. The Rule also explains the role of the abbot, who is elected to an indefinite term by us and explains how he is to keep discipline.
Chastity and poverty are integral observances of monastic life. Our order says they are so necessary they are assumed and not vowed. Benedict also saw private possession as a vice, and prescribed communal ownership of goods.
Being accepted into this community was no easy task and required the approval of the entire community and the abbot and several letters of recommendation. I joined after completing a master's degree. I had been in a relationship with Stefan and broke it off to join the monastery.
I became a postulant and completed a probationary period which lasted six months. I studied the Rule of St Benedict, Scripture, and monastic history, and I worked around the monastery. I was discerning whether you should proceed to the novitiate. I missed Stefan and our life together. I missed the sex and still fantasized. My dreams were filled with moments of our life together.
Postulancy was a time of getting used to the monastic way of life by living it. After a year of being a postulant, I asked the community to enter the novitiate, even though I still struggled with my inner turmoil.
I then joined the novitiate which involved a year of intense training for monastic life. After that year, I made my temporary profession, which is also called initial vows, which last a minimum of three years, before I would make solemn and perpetual vows.
When I made my vows the abbot gave me a new name, Brother Luke. I was given a permanent work assignment and greater responsibility in the community.
If I completed these three years and the community approves, I would be able to make solemn vows, which is a lifetime commitment, which our order sees as the total gift of self in consecration to God.
So now you know where I am and where I am heading. It all seemed so straightforward, and it can be. But human beings are complex, and even though St Benedict had great insight into the human condition, his rule didn't have answers for everything. I had a desire to serve God as well as other desires that had developed as a child, and a longing to be intimate with other men.
I had hoped that these desires would be overshadowed by a monastic life, but this was not the case. I had left my friendship circle behind and found myself behind the high monastic walls. The rhythms of the monastery helped me to take my mind off Stefan and the carnal pleasures we experienced together.
The monastery garden was my favourite place, it is a serene and contemplative space and is designed with careful thought fostering tranquillity, meditation, and spiritual reflection. Our gardens were enclosed within the monastery walls and provided a secluded retreat for us.
I liked the balanced and harmonious layout and the symmetrical patterns. The herb garden and labyrinth were special places for walking meditation, prayer and for me to get my mind focused. The fragrant lavender, rosemary, and sage filled the air with their calming scents. The sound of trickling water is a constant presence, and the serene fountain at its centre offered a gentle, rhythmic flow that promoted the atmosphere of tranquillity.
The Benedictine Rule outlined our daily schedule of prayer and work. The schedule is the heartbeat of the monastic community. It is the structure in which the monastery functions as an institution and the specific times of prayer and praise. The schedule and bells were the rhythm of our daily life that gradually formed us.
It was through our common life together of prayer, work, and community that we found meaning. I always hoped this would sublimate my desires. At the end of my third year in the monastery, two new postulants joined. Roy and Anthony had joined us straight from school, and they were gorgeous. Anthony had blond hair and was over six feet tall, his eyes were blue, and he had a very deep voice. He mostly wore his habit, but on Sundays, I saw him shorts and a T-shirt. Roy had red curly hair and blue eyes. He was shorter than Anthony and very attractive. I also saw him in his shorts and T-shirt on Sundays.
These guys became the new focus of my daily masturbation. I would visualise their faces and parts of their bodies. I would imagine Roy's red pubic hair and long cock, and me taking it into my mouth. I had a deep desire to be close to these young men, but I was sure that any move I made would scare them off.
I walked the stone pathways that wound through the garden, sat on the wooden benches nestled among the greenery, and prayed the rosary asking God to keep me pure. Most of the monks were older than me, and to be honest not that attractive. These two postulants consumed a lot of my thoughts and made it harder for me to focus on monastic life. I didn't want to become the debauched monk of Chaucer's tale, nor any of the monks in Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose and prayed hard.
We kept vows of silence, and it was only on Sunday afternoons that we were allowed to speak. The prayers and chants helped me focus, and so did the holy masses. But I must confess that the silence was often too silent for me. I longed for long conversations and debate. I felt sorry for Roy and Anthony joining our community at such a young age. They had seen so little of life; I was dying to hear they were finding monastic life.
On one Sunday Anthony and I took a long walk outside the monastery and spoke. He was a surprisingly mature young person, who had grown up in a conservative Catholic home. He had a girlfriend at school and not had sex with her. I told him about Stefan and that I had been in a gay relationship. Reflecting on that conversation now I cannot believe how open I was, and hope that Anthony didn't think that I was coming onto him. He was remarkably receptive and engaged for a person who had grown up in his world.
We walked in the hills surrounding our monastery. It was a sweltering day and we had to find a tree to rest under. Anthony was very open with me and told me how he struggled with his sexual urges, he too was masturbating nearly every day. I think that he was relieved to find out that monks were human.
The next day the abbot came to find me, I was working in the vegetable garden. Stefan had called to tell me that his mother had passed away. I asked for permission to leave to attend the funeral.
It was the first time that I had left the monastery since I joined, and it was fantastic. I wore ordinary clothes and caught a bus back to the city four hours away. Stefan met me at the bus station and embraced me. I told him how sorry I was for his loss and that I too had loved his mother. He kissed me a little more deeply. It was wonderful to be with my old friend again and to be so close to him.
Stefan took me for a pizza, my favourite meal. I hadn't eaten a pizza since entering the monastery, nor had I drunk a glass of Coke. Everything tasted so much better than before. We sat at a window, and I enjoyed watching the people passing by and the hustle and bustle of the city. Later we returned to the home where Stefan grew up, I agreed to stay with him until after the funeral. His two sisters were scheduled to arrive the next day, the day of the funeral.
It was as if we had never been apart, and we connected so easily. There was a lot to catch up on. Stefan worked as a meteorologist, and he wasn't in a relationship. He had moved back home to be with his mother in her last months. My desire to be with Stefan welled up inside me, and the obligation to be chaste also tugged inside me.
I was no longer a monk that night and shared the double bed with Stefan. We kissed and hugged, and I held him close to me. He kissed every part of me and kept telling me how much he had missed me. I told him that I had missed him too and that I thought of him most nights when I wanked in the monastery.
We were both hard feeling each other's cocks and wanking each other. There were moments, and only moments during the night, when I thought about my life in the monastery. I explored Stefan's hole and used lube to get my fingers in and he squirmed the deeper I went. He grabbed hold of my cock and lubed my shaft. It felt good as I pushed into his arse and fucked him and we both came at the same time. He shot his load onto my stomach.
I was up early the next morning reading the Rule:
When brethren return from a journey,
at the end of each canonical Hour of the Work of God
on the day they return,
let them lie prostrate on the floor of the oratory
and beg the prayers of all
on account of any faults
that may have surprised them on the road,
through the seeing or hearing of something evil,
or through idle talk.
And let no one presume to tell another
whatever he may have seen or heard outside of the monastery,
because this causes very great harm.
But if anyone presumes to do so,
let him undergo the punishment of the Rule.
And let him be punished likewise who would presume
to leave the enclosure of the monastery
and go anywhere or do anything, however small,
without an order from the Abbot.
Stefan came and found me in the lounge, he was naked and his penis swung freely as he walked. It was a treat seeing a naked male body again. We showered together and soaped each other up and explored each other's bodies.
"It's been good to be with you again John, I'm going to miss you when you return to the monastery," Stefan said.
I borrowed one of Stefan's suits to wear at the funeral. The funeral was simple and dignified. Stefan's mother wasn't religious and wanted to keep things low-key. His mother's sister spoke about the importance of being true to yourself and being honest. I felt that she was speaking directly to me, even though I didn't know her. It was good to see Stefan's sisters again and to connect with old friends. We gathered at a small restaurant for a meal afterward.
I never returned to the monastery.
I set out on a new journey with Stefan, and hopefully, this journey will be easier than the last, and I'll be happier living a life filled with less silence.