From Homophobe to Homo

Fags are disgusting and Connor hates them all! There is no doubt in his mind. But when this raging homophobe finds himself forced to move in with another hunky mechanic, he has no idea that he is about to slowly, but surely, become what he despises the most!

This is a pure work of fiction.

This story does not reflect the views of its author. I do not endorse the actions depicted in this story in real life. All characters featured are above 18. Enjoy!

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FROM HOMOPHOBE TO HOMO

Chapter 4: The art of directing a movie

Neither Robbie nor I mentioned what had happened in the toilets at the bar the other night.

I was fucking pissed on the moment, - who would not be? -, but the next morning, as I was making breakfast for the both of us, I just wanted to pretend like this had never happened.

The thought that I had recorded my roommate (and now, "boss") pissing was too much to process alone, and I did not even want to think about the rest.

In the end, I was glad that Robbie did not make any comment. He barely acknowledged the night of (crazy intense) sex he had with Melanie.

Besides, I had made 150 dollars and I definitely needed the money. I could finally buy myself some clothes!

That being said, I still needed to shove my dick into a wet pussy. Jerking off a couple of times a week while listening to Robbie fucking a girl and talking nasty was not sufficient to fulfil my cravings for hot cunts.

At the garage, I asked Oliver if he did not know any good babe, not too complicated, and preferably living by herself so I could spend the night. My tiny single bed was not ideal for the long hours of rough sex I intended to have. Somehow, Robbie had inspired me to be even nastier with the next girl I would bang.

"Coming to me for girls? That's a first!" Oliver teased me.

"Shut up, man. I did not have time to do my thing lately but I need to go back in the business, if you know what I mean."

I grabbed my crotch as if my intentions were not clear enough. My dick was almost constantly in a state of half-mast, if not fully stiffed, lately.

"I'm not sure if I can be your wingman anymore, mate. Things are getting a little serious with Melissa, I don't want you to mess with one of her friends."

Oliver said.

"Melissa? The black girl you've been dating? Not you, man! I thought we were on the same wave length when it came to not committing until we're at least 30!"

"I know, I know! But I like her. She's a good hen."

"Well, I prefer naughty ones!"

"Better to have a nice one than none at all!" Oliver snapped back at me with a smirk.

Stupid British asshole! Clearly, I did not need his help that bad, I already had dozens of girls I could hit up on my Insta.

"Forget it, loser. I will find a good chick for myself."

"Not tonight though." Robbie said as Oliver left to welcome a client.

The three of us had been working on the same car for hours.

"What do you mean?"

"I am gonna need your help to film some content this evening."

"Really?"

"Dude, why are you always acting so surprised when I ask you to do anything? You work for me, remember?"

This was exactly the reason why I was hesitant to accept to be Robbie's "assistant" in the first place. I am nobody's bitch!

"I know, but I thought we were mates first. Like, I'm not your employee. Not really."

"We are mates. Yes. But you have also agreed to be my assistant and I think I've been honouring my side of a deal with the money and the apartment. I thought you were a man of your word too!"

"Of course, I am a man of my word and don't you dare say otherwise!"

I would push back at anyone trying to undermine me as a Man. Fuck. My father has taught me right to always act with pride and honour.

"Listen, I've got a series of content to film and I thought we could do it all in one night. Get it over with. If I do this alone, just setting up the cameras takes ages and there are things that I simply cannot do. This is why I freaking need an assistant!"

"What kind of content though? I don't want to film you, like, doing sexual stuff."

Robbie bursted out laughing.

"Why not, mate? Are you terrified of my big juicy dick?"

I looked around. Eric turned his face towards us, clearly, he had heard Robbie. Hopefully, he would not get any wrong idea...

"Shut up, Robbie. It's just that, you know, I'm not gay!"

"Who says you were? You're really weird about that, Connor. But don't worry, it's mostly feet stuff anyway, nothing too hardcore. I'll admit that my feet are pretty disgusting, especially right now..."

He put his trainers right next to my face as I was going below the car.

"See, I've been wearing these sneakers all day, to make them sweaty as fuck. But who cares? It's just feet."

The whole thing was very cringy. Just another proof that the homos are all weirdos if you want my opinion!

"Those faggots are real psychos getting turned on watching your dirty feet." I commented. "That's sick."

"You would prefer to film my cock then?"

I showed Robbie the middle finger. Frankly, I was not sure which was worse between the two.

"If recording me, simply taking my shoes off is a problem for you, I'm sorry but that will just not work. This is nothing compared to what I would ask another assistant. I really offered you this job as a friend. If you cannot do it because you're all weird and insecure about your body and sexuality, then, I'll have to offer it to someone else. Guys would literally pay to film me! But then, I would need to get back the room you're staying in."

I sighed.

"That's fine. I don't care about filming your stupid feet. Just don't push things too far..."

"I never do!" He said with a smile.

What other choice did I have? I needed both the place to stay and the money. Besides, in a way, he was right. I could not keep on refusing to do the job I had committed myself to do.

A few hours later, we were back at the apartment.

"I'll do some more exercise now, get myself a good sweat. They'll love that." Robbie said walking to my room where the gym equipment, mainly a chest press machine and a stationary bike, were stored.

"Ok... You'll tell me when you're ready. I'll take a shower in the meantime."

"Wait Connor! I've just had an idea! It would be cool if you were filming me working out. Seeing my muscle stretched and in action, I know some of my clients will drain their bank accounts just to see that."

It would not be the first time that I would film a bro exercising, even though I was usually on the other side of the spectrum, asking other dudes to record me while I was pumping my big muscles at the gym.

Always a good Insta story to post to get the girls sliding in my dms... and to get me sliding in their pussies later on!

But filming a dude to get fags horned-up, that was a whole other story and a way less exciting prospect.

Still, I tried to show some more dedication to my "assistant" job:

"Yeah, sure." I said casually.

Robbie took his pants off, his white briefs were already wet on some spots, especially in the ass-crack, and he was smelling like he had gone for a jog. To be fair, I had sweated at work too (hence, the shower I wanted to take), but I am pretty sure that I was not smelling that bad!

Robbie quickly put a tiny pair of grey nylon shorts over his briefs. He had kept his grey tank-top and sneakers on.

"Bring me a bottle of water and let's go." He spoke.

Could not he bring his freaking bottle himself? I thought. I still went to get it and joined him in my room. We had barely any place to move around between the press machine and my bed.

That too was pissing me off! Although Robbie's room was twice the size of mine, all the gym equipment were still piled up beside my bed. Several times, Robbie had woken me up, barging into my room at 9 am to exercise in just his boxer briefs, only a foot away from me.

Once, he even teased me about my morning wood, claiming that he was responsible for it!

"What's that about, my big pecs are turning you on, Connor?"

As if! I am just always super hard when I wake up and yes, it is difficult to hide a thick nine-inches dick!

Robbie could be such a prick when he wanted to.

Again, I was not paying rent and was virtually homeless without him, but still!

Robbie gave me his phone, he had just bought a new-one, and told me to start recording while he sat on the press bench. I did not have much place so I sat on the edge of my bed, this way, I was at the level of his chest.

I must admit, the dude had been hitting the gym hard and following my advice. He was more and more defined and as he was contracting his veiny biceps, I even wondered if he was not getting bigger than I was. Surely no, I still had the best body in the entire garage but Robbie was now a close second.

"How do you like that? Seeing daddy pumping his big muscles?" He said to me, panting a little as he was pulling on the weights.

"What the fuck?" I replied in a chuckle, shaking the phone.

"Dude! Focus! I'm not talking to you! I'm talking to the client, to the camera. Fuck. We have to do the scene again. This is work, this is not for your own entertainment, man."

"My own entertainment?"

I was super annoyed he would suggest that I would actually be entertained by what he was doing, but I shut up when I saw his face. Robbie was clearly not in the mood to joke or argue. This was work time. I took it upon myself not to get upset.

Frankly, I wanted to be over with this as soon as possible. I kept the camera rolling.

"Look at daddy's big arms. You wish you could touch them, right? Lick them, I bet! You fucking fag, you can wish all you want! You will never get a piece of that juicy meat."

He stopped pushing himself on the machine and flexed his biceps. He gave me a discreet sign to film a close-up. I did, getting closer to him and awkwardly standing-up from my bed. My roommate then lifted up his arms to flaunt his armpits.

"I'm sweaty." He stated, putting his two arms behind his head.

I was not too sure whether he was talking to me or to the camera but I refrained from any comment. I kept on recording everything. Pearls of sweat were falling from his armpit's hair, or should I say, thick bush.

At some point, he grabbed my wrist to guide the phone closer towards his other arm that he flexed as well. He then resumed working-out.

I have to admit, a part of me was impressed by his body, but most of all, by his confidence. I was even intimidated at times. I had discovered a new Robbie since I was living with him, but this was up to a whole new level. The dude looked and acted like a beast. A freaking Muscle God.

When he took his tank-top off, which was practically glued to his skin before, he revealed a glistening pumped-up chest that I was almost jealous of. How exactly did he get this V-line?

"You like what you see, slut?"

I almost said: I do.

"You wish you had that fit and strong body?"

Again, I almost said: yes.

"Now, come and lick all the sweat from my nipples", he pinched them, "my rock-hard abs", he caressed them, "my big pecs", he bounced them.

Every time he mentioned a part of his body, I moved the camera towards it. His clients would get quite the show, I was capturing every detail of his impressive physique.

This lasted for another good fifteen minutes until he asked me to kneel down.

"Dude, I think we have enough footage already." I spoke.

Those were the first words I was managing to get out since we had started the session, my mouth was dried.

Robbie threw some of the water on his face and chest to cool down.

"The whole point is for you to film angles which I could not do myself. Come on, you can get there, between your bed and the bike, on your knees, I would look like a giant to the camera."

To be honest, I was getting really uncomfortable with the whole thing. I did not want to whine but recording and listening to one of my bros praising his own body and practically caressing himself, that was just fucking weird.

"Ok, but then, we're done?" I asked.

"Yes, after that, we're done with the exercising portion. I'm exhausted anyway. In case you have not noticed, I'm doing all the work here!" He said with another classic smirk of his.

"Let's just do it." I replied, getting on my knees and pressing play.

"That's the spirit, Spielberg!" He winked at me.

Or maybe the wink was intended at his clients? That was hard to tell.

I wonder if Steven Spielberg ever got to his knees to film one of his shirtless actors sweating and grunting over him. He probably would have if it were in the interest of the movie, right?

At least, I was behind the camera. I was not the one showing off for faggots. That would be really humiliating for Robbie if those videos happened to be leaked...

"Come on, come worship my body. Don't be scared. You know you want it. Every inch of it. Look at those hairy thighs..."

He sprayed his legs.

"...Just feel how bad you want to bury your face between them..."

He sprayed even wider, exposing his crotch.

"...You know you want to be a dirty little slut for your boss, stop resisting, you want me to pound your fucking brains out..."

The most disturbing thing happened at that point, I was getting hard!

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I hoped to God that Robbie would not notice or I would never hear the end of it. What the fuck was happening to me? I mean, the slightest breeze could make me have an erection and I would sport random ones at times, like I would get hard in the garage or at the gym without any explanation, but there, in this position, that was beyond embarrassing!

Somehow, my mind must have associated Robbie's dirty talking to actual thoughts about sex (with girls of course!), and I so wanted to have a bad bitch for myself that my cock was having a reaction. It was only natural...

To stop myself from getting too horny, I tried to ignore all the filthy talk that he did afterwards.

"You're just daddy's personal little cunt, aren't you? You should beg to lick those muscular legs. You should pay just to have the right to look at them. But don't worry boy, I will reward you. If you're good to me, I'll be good to you. I'll let you taste each of my fluids. What do you want, cunt? My sweat?"

He raised his arm up again to showcase his sweaty armpits, it looked like a literal rain forest down there, or rather up there from my point of view.

"Or maybe you want my spit?"

He spat on his pecs, the droplets of thick white saliva dripping towards his abs.

"My piss?"

Fuck, he was so fucking dirty! I had already tasted it.

"My cum?"

He grabbed his crotch outrageously. I could not believe such a pervert had been hiding under Robbie's innocent attitudes at work this whole time!

"Oh yes, I can see it in the way you smile, this is what you want! I hit the jackpot with that one. You dream of my fucking spunk! You're nasty. Tell me what you are! Tell me you are my filthy cum dumpster!"

I was stunned, barely able to hold on to the phone and suddenly, everything stopped.

"Ok, I guess that will be enough." Robbie said very casually. "Thanks for smiling at the end, as if you really wanted it. It helped me to get into character, seeing you like this. On your knees. Like a bitch."

I gave him back his phone, trying not to shake and I stood back-up. Did I actually smile? I had not realized. Jeez, this was getting really messed-up.

"Let's move on to the feet part. Maybe we can do that in the living room."

Shit, the feet part! I had almost forgotten about that.

"What do you want me to do? Record you like this." I looked down at his sneakers.

He chuckled.

"I guess you're not Tarantino yet. Have not you figured out that most of my clients would not like to be standing above me?"

"I'm not dumb, I know those sissies want to be owned by Alpha guys, they want to be under you."

"Exactly."

"So, I kneel back down?"

He smiled, satisfied.

"Let's go to the living room, I'll sit on the couch. But kneeling down might not be enough, it's good when you film the crotch or upper body but for the feet, you should be crawling down so you're low enough."

"Really?"

"Of course, really. Trust me, I know how to direct a good movie."

I followed him, jaded. He gave me a tap on the shoulder.

"Relax, man, looks like you're walking to your death. I'm just going to take my sneakers and socks off, and we're gonna make a shit load of money together."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's fine!"

"I apologize in advance for the smell though. My feet stink."

"I have noticed..." I teased him.

"I bet you have."

He took place on the couch, still heavily sweating, only wearing his tiny shorts with his white boxer briefs underneath, his socks and his sneakers. I took my own position, getting on all fours and then almost crawling on the floor, holding up the phone.

The fags would indeed love that shot, Robbie looked like a muscle giant from this angle.

"Action." I said, taking my director's role more seriously.

"Hey babe, I've spent my day working at the garage and then sweating at the gym." Robbie rubbed his right sneaker against his left calf. "I'm literally soaked." He said to the camera, flaunting his body drenched with sweat, even going as far as smelling his armpits. "Stinks like real man up in here!"

I knew what to do, I got the camera closer to the action.

"I bet it smells strong in there too." Robbie added, sliding his right hand down to his shorts.

I swallowed my saliva. This was not in the script.

"But I know what you have come here to see, where you want to shove your nose, you little fucker." I directed the camera back to Robbie's sneakers. "Take them off, slut!"

I was still filming like an idiot, not getting what was expected of me.

"Cut." Robbie said.

"What's happening? Dude, I was having perfect shots of everything!" I complained.

"I've just told you to take my sneakers off! What's you're waiting for?"

"What? Robbie, I... No. I... I'm not your fucking client."

Not to say faggot...

"We're trying to bring them the ultimate experience, make them feel as if they were here, participating in the action. You are their eyes."

"Their eyes, not their hands! That's messed-up dude. We said I would not appear in any of this shit. You do whatever you want for these degenerates but me, no, I'm not interested."

"Eh! We have already talked about that! Around here, you respect my clients! And when will you stop fucking whining, Connor? Man-up!"

It was so frustrating having an argument while I was on the floor and he was sitting above me, dominating me.

"Fine, respect the kinks of your clients. I don't give a fuck. But look, Rob, I don't mind filming, see, I'm doing my part of the deal. But we did say that I would not be featured in the video."

"Yeah. That's right. And you're not. For fuck's sake, Connor, who's going to recognize your hands? That's just crazy talk! We're losing precious time."

Well, I did not know what to respond to that. Once again, I surrendered.

"Ok, but like, you owe me one!"

He sighed:

"That's the whole deal. We help each other out! That's what bros do! You stay in my place, you make money, you help me make some more. Are we really going to go through all that again every time I ask you to do something?"

"No, no. Ok, chill. Let's just do it! Let's get this over with."

He smiled at me.

"Good boy!"

"Really?"

"Come on, I'm just teasing you. Damn, you're such a drama queen."

I rolled my eyes but said:

"Action."

Robbie's character changed right away. He was back to being this confident dominant Alpha male.

"Look at my feet, boy, look at them, trapped in those sneakers. How bad do you want to take them out? To free them? To touch them? To worship them? Answer me, slut! How bad do you want this?"