There's something undeniably sexy about big brutal men marauding and pillaging and having their way with anyone that takes their fancy.
If you’re looking for some gay erotic fiction then check out Viking Tales — my collection of short stories about marauding Vikings and the men that they encounter.
Here’s some samples:
Pulling off his shirt and stepping out of his trousers, the coolness of the water against his skin as he entered the stream made Onund shiver — he plunged his body beneath the water and soon quickly emerged, gasping for air at the shock of the cold water. As he emerged from the stream he realised that he was being observed by a stranger who had perched himself on a nearby rock while he watched Onund bathe.
“Still some fight left you is there, boy?” snarled Ansgar, spitting in the boy’s face. Ansgar was annoyed with himself, he should have been more on his guard — if the boy had been a more experienced warrior his surprise attack against Ansgar might have been successful.
“Meko!” shouted Ansgar, spying one of his warriors in the distance. “Bring me some rope! This one needs to be secured.” As he waited for Meko to bring the rope, Ansgar held the young boy firmly. There was something slightly different about this boy from the others that they had captured from the village — he seemed stronger, more determined. There was a fiery heat within him that somehow set him apart from the other villagers.
They didn’t see or hear the other hunting party approaching the swimming hole. Suddenly Onund felt Ansgar’s body tense, every muscle alert. Onund looked around and there were three men standing there. Onund didn’t recognise them but they were clearly hunters.
“A fine fish you have caught in that stream, Lord Ansgar!” shouted one of the hunters in greeting. “Would you care to share it so that we can all feast on your good fortune?”
“This is no fish…” smiled Ansgar, throwing Onund over his shoulder. “This is my thrall. We are just washing the dust off after a long day of hunting.”
“Your thrall…” acknowledged the hunter. “Then you must surely have no objection to sharing your thrall with us? We have also had a long day — taking some pleasure with your thrall is just what we need!”
The shock of the collision and the suddenness of being thrown into the water was soon replaced by confusion as Cuyler felt himself being dragged through the water. He had become entangled in his own fishing nets, and the vikings were dragging him up, dragging him aboard their vessel. Thrown unceremoniously onto the deck, Cuyler was coughing and spluttering as he tried to fill his lungs with air, slowly becoming aware that he was surrounded by angry-looking vikings.