Meanwhile in Lindisfarne

Portrait of Brother Peter, a Crusader initiate.

These are the accounts of Brother Peter, a Crusader initiate who was one of the first to be captured by the Norther raiders.

Admittedly, the first day was hardest.

They stripped us of everything once they bound us in ropes and collars. I still remember the shame that coursed through me; a sort of adrenaline I wasn't used to. It wasn't the nudity that shamed me for I've been naked in front of my brothers before. Instead the shame stemmed from the Northlanders and the way they stared at me as though I was some cattle ready to be butchered and sold. I was helpless as they appraised me in the open, laying their filthy, blood drenched hands on me. I spat at them, cursed them in the name of God but the groping never stopped. I never felt so violated.

It became obvious amidst the ordeal that they were assigning some value to each of us. Some of us were dragged to the northern pastures, others accompanied by guards, led outside through the southern gates. Eventually, the numbers dwindled 'till it was only novice Dain and I who were left by the blazing bonfire. The heat of the flames licking at our naked bodies, the shame only expounded by the fact that we were now just two. So there we stood out in the open with the ever growing horde around us. I sought refuge by covering my intimates but my hands were immediately slapped away.

I don't know why it happened, but my cock became erect and it remained so between my closed legs as I was paraded once more for all to see. Brother Dain was next but he remained flaccid and unnervingly calm. When he sat back down next to me, he looked sympathetic towards my plight and assured me everything was alright. This boiled a twisted emotion of humiliation and rage which only made my erection twitch harder. With my head faced down, I glared in frustration as a small tear dripped from the tip of my cock and down my hardened shaft.

I've always prided myself as a quick learner with a sharp wit. But despite all my learning at the monastery and all my training with the Crusade, I could not foresee what would happen next.

With a sharp tug, the man who held my leash grabbed my shaft and gave it a strong tug. I was **** by him. Hands fell upon me, restraining me to the ground as another pried my rear open. As he rubbed his fingers inside me with a sticky substance, my shock quickly turned to abject horror. But I was already restrained, **** on to the ground by two men twice my size. Behind me I could hear the untying of straps and loins as they fell to the ground with soft thuds.

I screamed.

Initially, the pain was agonizing as though I was being split in two. But eventually, the pain turned numb, until all I could feel were the hard press of his chest behind my back and his warm breath besides my ear. One by one with each thrust, I prayed it'd be over quickly.

"Kill me," I whispered as he lifted me from the dirt.

But my pitiful request was drowned out by their drunken merriment. He held my chest and squeezed them like a women's as he trusted deeper inside me. It was only until a sort of sickly warmth filled inside me that I knew it was finally over. I was **** and spoiled by another man who played part in killing my brothers. It was in that moment my faith in God wavered.