The Abbey
By Bald Hairy Man
This is an adult gay story for adult gay men. I this offends you, DON'T read it. This is a fantasy, not a sex manual. Play safely.
I am Brother Jules of the Abbey of St. Nicholas. The Abbey of St. Nicholas had almost gone out of existence when my friend, Brother John, became Abbot on the death of Abbott Frederick. He discovered the Abbey was both astoundingly wealthy and one of the largest slum lords in Richmond. Abbot John immediately went about solving the slum problem by undertaking a massive campaign of renovation and building. I became his assistant.
This was very expensive, but we were wealthy and our wealth was best used bringing prosperity to the community. All of our efforts to spend the money on good works failed. While we spent it, our program of building and repair did nothing but inspire additional donations.
Out of the blue one day the Bishop called as asked the Abbot to see him. I went with the Abbot on the visit. I knew the Bishop didn't approve of hoarding wealth. He was a frugal and conservative man. He felt wealth was sinful unless used for God's purposes. I also knew he had a bad relationship with the late Abbot Frederick. I dreaded meeting with him. We were an independent order, not directly under his control, so there was little he could do, but be unpleasant. A bishop is a bishop and an unhappy bishop is to be dreaded.
Bishop greeted us cordially. I had never met him in person before and was surprised at the warmth. He discussed our building program. Somehow he knew all about it and seemed pleased. "You have done so well with the Abbey, I was hoping you could help us with another difficult property," the Bishop said. "Are you familiar with the old St. Sergius and Bacchus property?"
"I've heard of it, but I've never been there," Abbot John replied.
"It is a former Orthodox monastery that went belly up in the 1930's and was given to the Sisters of Silent Prayer. The last sister died a decade ago and the property had reverted to the diocese. It must be used for a charitable purpose and it has been a problem for years."
"I'm afraid we have no need for another Abbey," I said.
"I wasn't thinking about another Abbey," the Bishop replied. "We have a need for housing for the elderly. Your order has a provision for lay brothers. I know you've been housing several men at the abbey who aren't strictly speaking religious men." I didn't know what the Abbot would say. I was afraid the Bishop had discovered the Abbey had become a refuge for gay men and was going to shut us down. He saw my confusion.
"I'm not complaining about that, mind you," the Bishop quickly said. "I think it's admirable in many ways. God has many children. I find it hard to believe he has rejected any of them."
"The church seems to be uneasy about some of them," the Abbot commented.
"Don't tell anyone, but I am not always sure the Church's policies and Divine will are identical," the Bishop said under his breath. "We can try to reflect his will, but you can never be sure."
"Your secret is safe with us," I said.
"If you were to take over the administration of St. Sergius and Bacchus, you could make it a home for single men," the Bishop said. "It could become a haven for lonely and rejected men." I understood the Bishop. We agreed to work on the abandoned monastery. I had been puzzled as to why I accompanied the Abbot on the visit. I realized they already had decided I would take care of the St. Sergius and Bacchus project.
We took a trip to the place the next day. It was twenty miles to the west of Richmond. Suburban growth was moving in the direction, but the monastery had more than 1000 acres of property and was quite isolated. We drove through massive gates and continued down a winding road. It had been paved, but the road was in bad condition and the shoulders were very overgrown.
The monastery itself was remarkable. The grounds were overgrown, but the building appeared to be in good shape. John said the original donor had endowed the buildings and there was enough cash to keep the structure in good repair. It was a traditional monastery designed around a cloister courtyard. The church was domed and looked Italian or Venetian. The rest of the buildings were two story brick structures, slightly Italian in character in brown brick with a terra cotta tile roof.
A big, bearded man came up to us as we arrived. He wore the habit of an Orthodox monk. "Are you the Abbot?" he asked. "I'm Ivan, the caretaker." Abbot John greeted him and introduced me as his assistant.
"I had no idea there were any monks left here," I said.
He let out a belly laugh. "I just wear the clothes," he said. "It discourages questions from trespassers. Lots of people want to get this place. If they think it's still a monastery, it keeps them from getting ideas." Another man came out form the building. He was dressed the same way, but was as diminutive as Ivan was big. "This is my sidekick, Franz," Ivan said. I shook hands with Franz. Franz was not a leader of men. His handshake was weak.
"Do we have to leave?" Franz asked in a high voice. He sounded worried. "We love it here." I realized Ivan and Franz were a couple. Franz was afraid they were going to be evicted.
"It's a beautiful place," I said. "Can we go inside?" I didn't want to make any commitments to the two men until I saw what the place was like. The grounds were badly over grown and I was afraid the interior was in similar condition.
"We didn't have time to clean it up for your visit," Ivan said.
"It can be really pretty when its spic and span," Franz said. "Forgive the way it looks. It's a big building to clean." He looked almost frightened. We went through the main door into the Cloister. The cloister courtyard could only be described as magnificent. It was beautifully planted with flowers and trees. Each plant appeared to be almost manicured.
"It's beautiful," I said.
"Franz likes things nice," Ivan said. The cloister was glassed in on two sides and open on the others. The windows were open and there was no smell of must or mildew. The main rooms were all fully furnished in 1920s type mediaeval style furniture. Everything was in good condition. We toured the main floor and the place was perfectly in order, almost like a time capsule for the 1920s. It had a theatrical air and I almost expected to find Gloria Swanson or Raymond Navarro to appear.
I complimented them on the condition of the place. "I do the heavy lifting," Ivan said. "Franz does all the little repairs."
"The Sisters of Silent Prayer weren't that good about any repair," Franz said, "All the needle work upholstery was in bad shape. I've been working on it for four years and it's almost restored." We went into the church. The church was smaller than it looked, but the interior was a jewel box of mosaics and frescoes. Like the adjacent buildings, it was in superb condition. We returned to the residential part of the building.
"I've fixed the roof and the furnace is in good condition," Ivan said. "Of course there's no air conditioning, but the place is cool most of the summer. I've redone the wiring to most of the rooms. I was a licenced electrician before I came here."
"What's the plumbing like?" I asked.
"Most of it's gone. The nuns didn't fix anything," Ivan replied. "They added little baths here and there, but most of it was jack legged. I took all of it out. Franz and I use the old lavatory. It's a medieval style room, I guess, but it meets our needs. The monks had a common bath serving the entire complex."
"Let's look at it," I said. We went out a side door into a narrow corridor. The lavatory was a windowless octagonal pavilion with a cupola providing light from above. There was a raised pool in the middle of the room, with basins in a ring around it. A door to the side went to the toilets. The interior was all marble.
"It looks like a medieval Italian Baptistry," I said. "What a strange room."
"The nuns didn't use it at all, except for storage," Franz said. "There are brass clips in the floor that held stands to hold up curtains for privacy around the pool. We found one of those, but the rest are gone. There are only two of us here. We don't need privacy."
"There's a steam room too," Ivan said. "Most of the monks were Russian, it was what they expected I guess."
We continued the tour. Abbott John had to return to Richmond, but I wanted to visit the entire property. The Abbott was going to send a car to get me in the afternoon, but Ivan pointed out they had 36 bedrooms. "We've got the room. You might as well try the place out." That made sense to me.
The Abbot left. It was a hot day and I was wearing a black habit. Fortunately I had shorts underneath. I went exploring on my own. I wanted to look at anything I wanted without Ivan and Franz guiding me. I'm not a suspicious person, but I like to be careful. I got back to the monastery at 4:00. All was well. The huge place was as well maintained as it could have been with only two men working on it. I was impressed.
I found Franz working on repairing a chair in the former Abbot's quarters. "You're good at needlework," I said.
"I never did it before I got here. It just seemed a shame to have all this beautiful stuff going to ruin," Franz said. "I'd never done it, but I had an aunt who did. She showed me how to do it. It's not my favorite thing to do, but someone has to do it." He told me Ivan was in the orchard. I went out to look for him.
I followed a path into a wooded area and came to a cleared area. There were forty of fifty trees in various states of decay. Ivan was in one of the trees on a ladder. When he saw me, he got down. "I have a friend who knows fruit trees," Ivan said. "He told me which ones could be saved."
"That's a lot of work," I said.
"Our biggest problem here is lack of equipment," Ivan said. "We do everything by hand. There's enough money to hire us, but not to buy equipment or even pay for gasoline to run it. We can barely heat the place in the winter." We walked back to the monastery. The day had become very hot and sultry. We were both sweating like pigs.
"I think it's time to try out the lavatory," I said. "I'm afraid I'd leave a ring in the tub."
"Don't worry about that. You're supposed to steam, then get in the tub after you've hosed off," Ivan explained. Walking into the building Ivan told Franz to get the steam going. We went to the lavatory. Ivan cranked the cupola windows open, the room had been stuffy, but the open window immediately freshened up the room.
A man walked in. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know you had company, Ivan." The man was quite handsome, but covered in dust from head to toe.
"Jules, this is Randall," Ivan said in introduction. "He's the friend who's been giving me the advice on the orchard."
"Do you really think those trees can be saved?" I asked. "They look too old to me."
"Well, there's a chance," he said. "Several are antique and rare varieties. I was hoping we could get some cuttings and root them before the old trees die."
Randall had been unbuttoning his shirt as he walked in the room. I suspected he used the facilities. It was clear to me that Ivan and Franz were a couple. I wondered if Randall made then a threesome. "Ivan and I were going to try out the steam room," I said. "It looks to me you need it more than we do."
"Come join us," Ivan said. Randall led us into a dressing room. He had been here before. There was a series of pegs on the wall to hang up our clothes, then a small shower room to rinse off. The steam room itself was spectacular. It was done in glazed tiles in brilliantly colored Russian folk designs. Ivan and I sat on a marble bench. Randall stayed under the shower longer than we did.
Ivan was massively muscular, and covered in an even coat of black hair. He must have been shaved recently for the hair to be that even. A few minutes later Randall came into the steam room. He was slim and almost elegant and was entirely shaved except for his pubes. Franz entered a few minutes later. He was wiry rather than scrawny and very hairy.
He sat next to Randall on a marble bench facing us. We chatted about trees and the repair of the place. As we talked, Franz's cock began to harden. His cock looked as if it had been grafted on him from a horse. It looked huge compared to his body. The naked men in the room must have inspired him.
"Franz gets excited easily," Ivan whispered in my ear.
"Is it Randall?" I whispered back.
"It just takes another naked man," Ivan replied. My cock was beginning to firm up. Ivan noticed. "We don't have a television here, so I guess you could say we entertain ourselves."
"I get your meaning," I said. I glanced at Ivan's cock, he was uncut and his bulbous cock head was beginning to emerge from the sheath. It was an almost iridescent blueish-purple. I reached over and peeled the skin back, exposing the entire gland. "I've entertained myself the same way."
"I guess you can tell were gay?" Ivan asked.
"I picked up on that," I replied. "I'm gay too."
"And we aren't exactly celibate," Ivan added. I laughed.
"This is your lucky day," I said. "I'm not at all celibate." By this time we were all hard.
"Franz had a big cock, but his hole it tight," Ivan said. "Franz, come over here and make our guest feel welcome. I'll take care of Randall." Franz came over and attached himself to my cock.
"Do you like to top?" Randall asked. "Franz is the best bottom I've ever met. He's got a great ass." Randall came over, lifted Franz but his hips and shoved his cock deep into Franz's quivering ass. I felt the small man shiver and twitch.
"Shouldn't you use some lube?" I asked, shocked.
"Franz is always lubricated. Ivan likes him that way," Randall said.
"To tell you the truth, I don't mind using cum as a lubricant," Ivan said. "Randall shoots a huge load." Randall picked up the pace of his thrusts. He went rigid as he rear loaded Franz. Randall pulled out. Sperm dribbled from his slit.
Franz stood up, turned his back to me and sat back on my cock. He was a small man and I'm thick, but his cock enveloped my cock effortlessly. It was as if he melted on my meat. His ass was tight, and hot, but slippery. Franz squeezed his ass. I moaned it felt so good. I just sat there and Franz wiggled and bucked. His ass actually massaged my ass.
"He's good, isn't he?" Ivan asked. "Fill him up again. I like him when he's full." I didn't intend to do that, but I wasn't up to me. Franz continued to contract his ass and I shot off. It was a complete and total release. I felt drained. Franz stood and immediately got on his knees. Ivan was in his ass in a second.
"I love it when it's still warm!" Ivan exclaimed, as he pounded Franz. I was worried we might have hurt Franz, but when I glanced at his face I saw only a look of contentment and bliss. Oddly his face reminded me of the look in paintings of saints being carried off to heaven. I had never felt that myself, but I sure was willing.
Ivan bellowed as he shot off. We all went to the lavatory and got in the central pool. After my orgasm I assumed I was done for the day. My cock had other plans. After bathing, Franz and Randall went off to make dinner, leaving me alone with Ivan.
"I take it your order does not include chastity in its vows," Ivan said.
"We take vows of poverty, obedience and chastity," I said, "but as the Abbot has noted, perfections is not possible in this world."
Ivan laughed. "That a good one," he remarked.
"Personally, I don't think loving your fellow man means you can't love God too," I said. "I do hope Franz liked what just happened?"
"Don't worry about that," Ivan said. "Franz enjoyed every second someone was in his ass. As far as I can tell, he enjoys it as much as his partner." He looked at me for a few seconds. "There is one thing. Franz is mostly a bottom but he likes to top sometimes. He's too big for me and Randall," Ivan said. Then he lowered his voice. "I don't know if you're into it, but if you like them big, he's a catch. If you bottom, that is."
I didn't answer him right away. "I'll think about it," I said. Ivan smiled. He correctly took my reply as a yes. We got dressed and went to dinner. I told them about our thoughts for the monastery.
"Shit, if you're looking for guys down on their luck, that's most of my friends," Randall said. "Somehow a lot of guys seem to fall through the cracks."
After dinner, we sat in the cloister garden and talked. I felt good about the project. If Ivan and Franz stayed, a good part of my staffing problems were solved. The building was in such good shape were could get going much more quickly than I had thought.