My Homophobic Christian Roommate

Hello! This is the next part (Part 3) in the "My Homophobic Christian Roommate" series.

This story includes manipulation, coercion, and a whole lotta blasphemy.

If you haven't read parts 1 and 2, you can find them on my account, but here's the story so far:

Our narrator caught Luke smelling his jockstrap and had him suck his cock in exchange for going to church the following week. Then, at church, our narrator blew Luke in the storage room while he was on the phone with his pastor.

This installment involves humiliation, exhibitionism, latex, public play, and more.

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The next week, Luke walked around me as if on eggshells. Many times, he would open his mouth to speak before pursing his lips and turning away. It was almost as if he had something to say, and wanted me to ask him what it was.

I, for my part, did not care.

And so another peaceful week of shallow pleasantries and surface level conversation continued.

Until Thursday.

"Do you have anything to do tonight?" Luke asked.

I mulled over my potential answers. "It depends what you're about to invite me to," I said.

That statement wasn't exactly true. I did have a definite night plans going out with a friend, but thirsty Thursdays came once a week, and I was starting to get withdrawals from tormenting Luke.

"I think I'm going to a book club meeting," Luke said, "and I wanted to see if you'd go with me..."

Oh God. He was inviting me to Bible study. "And what book would your club be discussing exactly?" I sighed.

Luke avoided my gaze. "Well," he said, "we would be reading a part of the book of Psalms, but it's a lot more interesting than it sounds! In fact--"

"Luke," I said, making sure that he met my eyes. I mustered every bit of sincerity I could. "Fuck. No."

"But if you just worship on Sundays," Luke said, "then where is the Lord in your heart the rest of the week?"

"You know that I'm not going to church because of

church

," I said, "Right?"

Luke turned red at the slightest allusion to what we had done. He paused before speaking. "I mean," he said, "is there anyway I could convince you?"

"Convince me?"

"Yeah," he said. "Like... Like before."

Oh God. He wasn't inviting me to Bible study... He was inviting me specifically so I would ask him to suck my dick or something in exchange. I wasn't the only one with withdrawals. He wanted me to push him even farther.

I thought about this for a moment. "I don't think there's anything I want from you right now," I said nonchalantly.

His face fell, and I could feel the disappointment radiating from him. He had gotten so used to me pushing the envelope that he was expecting it now. Even more, he was hoping for it.

"But," I said, "if you wanna join me and go to Pixie after, then I'll go with you to Bible study."

His disappointment turned momentarily to disgust, then to turmoil. Pixie was the name of a local gay club. Only 15 minutes from our front door by rideshare, and I could grind and dance on any otter, bear, or twunk I wanted to. If Luke went with me, he would be completely surrounded with homosexuality, the sure target of prying eyes. He would exist in a den full of sin.

"That's the deal," I said before he could answer. "I'll join you at your book club, and you'll join me at my gay club."

"I don't know," Luke said.

I could see doubt flashing across his face, but after spending weeks with this motherfucker, I knew how his brain worked. "Jesus didn't care who needed saving," I said. "As long as people needed saving, he was there for them."

To be honest, I was fairly certain that I had read this about Superman, not Jesus, but it sounded great.

Luke tilted his head back-and-forth, quite literally weighing the options. "And that's it?" He asked. "We just have to go there?"

He was testing the waters, seeing what kind of barriers I was going to try to break down tonight. I'm sure that images flashed across his mind. Would I try to suck his dick again? Would I make him take mine? Would I make him give up his virginity?

I kept my expression neutral, not giving anything away. All I said was "that's it."

And so, hours later, that was how we found ourselves, heading to Bible study together. I drove, and in the corner of my eye, I could see him fidgeting in the passenger seat, already half-regretting his decision. I had grabbed my backpack and tossed it in the back and put a tote bag of mine in the trunk, but besides that all we took were two of Luke's plethora of Bibles.

The house we pulled up to was a suburban cookie-cutter bungalow, shingled with millennial gray, and decorated with freshly painted white trim.

As soon as the car stopped, Luke unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, stepping out with a smooth motion. Once again, he was trying to take on the strategy of avoiding Any empty moments with me.

Luckily, for me, I knew that I didn't have to make a single move tonight. Not at his Bible study, anyway.

We got inside, and after a half dozen other college-aged members of the God squad gave Luke hugs and asked him how his heart was, I was introduced to the crew. It was a mix of clean-cut "good boy" types and alternative skaters with hyper-detailed angel tattoos. They shook my hand, dapped me up, and introduced themselves with big smiles. I smiled back, turning up the charm as high as I could. I could even feel Luke's eyes on me, surprised at how well I was getting along With this group.

I'll be gracious and skip the boring part. We read passages out of a newer translation with plain language. It was supposed to make the verses feel accessible, but instead it just felt like we were reading a Twitter summary of an actual Bible passage.

After we finished the text, the group had a too-long discussion and prayed.

I kept up appearances as best I could, and I smiled and nodded along as this group of near strangers as they spilled their guts. This was the closest that a lot of them would ever get to therapy, so I tried to be as understanding as I could.

It wasn't long until we were headed out the door, and Luke tried to hang back as long as he could. Now that the die had been cast, he was reconsidering his side of the promise.

"Luke," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. He shivered at my touch.

He looked at me, barely meeting my eyes and nodding.

We left with waves and smiles, and we got back into the car.

"Let's go to Pixie," Luke said quietly.

"Well, you're going to have to change first," I said.

Luke looked at me, raising his eyebrow slightly. "What I'm wearing is fine," he said.

I just shook my head. "You said you'd go with me, and I'm not walking into Pixie with you dressed like you're about to hand out Bibles."

Luke paused and then nodded. "Fine. Let's go home so I can grab something," he said.

"Don't worry about that," I said. "I already picked something for you."

I reached behind Luke's seat and grabbed the backpack I'd thrown in when we left. I handed it to him as he stared at me. Already I could see the nervousness in his big, innocent eyes.

With trepidation, Luke unzipped the backpack. I could hear each metal tooth as it rolled off the last until finally the backpacks was open.

A pair of jean shorts sat on top of a bundle of mesh and cotton.

The shorts, made of stretch denim, were designed to wedge themselves as far up the wearer's ass as possible. I had gotten them when I graduated in expectation of pride events and gay clubs galore. It turned out, as soon as I had them in hand, I realized that that wasn't the kind of gay I was. I was a staunch advocate of T-shirts and jeans, and even at my most revealing, the Daisy Duke shorts did not appeal to me.

However, I knew that they would look amazing on Luke.

Based on the amount of blood that drained from his face, he disagreed.

I kept the car in park and gesture to the bag. "We don't have all day," I said. "Put it all on."

Luke turned his head back to the house and then to me. We were still parked where we had been, in front of where we had just had Bible study. "I don't want to wear this," he said, "and I'm definitely not putting it on

here

."

I rolled my eyes. "Luke," I said, putting on as casual a tone as I could, "if you walk in to Pixie wearing what you have on right now, you're going to stick out much much worse than if you just put this on. And clothes can't be gay in and of themselves. It's just cotton and polyester."

Luke looked down at what he had on currently. It was a baggy yellow short sleeve button down, tucked into skinny khakis. He had a great slim figure, but he dressed as if he had been blindfolded and shoved into a thrift store.

"Don't worry," I said, "I threw a face mask in the car too. Nobody's going to recognize you."

"Fine..." Luke said, his cheeks turning pink as he squirmed. "But why do I have to change here?"

"It's just that if we don't get there soon there will be a cover charge," I said, smiling at him, "I didn't think we'd have the time."

That wasn't true, but "because I love the exhibitionist rush of making you change where anyone could see you" doesn't have the same ring.

Luke looked at the house again. The curtains were drawn, but the idea of stripping in a car outside of his Bible study's meeting place had him on edge.

"Are you going to change?" He asked.

"Of course," I said. "I'll keep watch for you and then change after you're done."

He paused a long time, and he kept looking up, as if God himself was peering down and watching him.

"Start with the pants," I said, trying to soothe him. "Nobody can see below your waist from outside the car."

Luke nodded. He looked up down the road as he kicked his shoes off. They were fake leather with too many panels and an atrocious amount of stitching. I may have been turning Luke gay, but those were the shoes of a straight man.

After making sure that nobody was coming our way, Luke undid his belt and fly, peeling his chinos from his legs. He pushed his knees together as he started to reach into the bag, but as he did, I shook my head.

"Those underwear aren't going to work with those shorts. They'll hang out, and you'll get more stares than if you wore nothing. I put in a pair for you."

Luke looked even more embarrassed as his cheeks reddened further. Still, he didn't argue. He was wearing a pair of cotton boxer briefs, and he tried to take them off as quickly as he could. He made the fatal mistake of forgetting to find the new pair of underwear first though. as soon as he had his underwear around his ankles, he reached into the bag and started to rifle, panic rising over him. His soft and small cock bounced as he moved.

Goddamn

, I was glad I made sure to hide the underwear at the bottom.

After what must have seemed to him like hours, Luke found what he was looking for. I gone to work out today and yesterday, and during that time, I had suspected that Luke and I would be sharing some kind of tryst within the next week. As such, I had worn the same jockstrap two days in a row, and when he pulled it out, the smell of sweat and pheromones filled the car. The jockstrap was white, and after two intense sessions at the gym, I could see that they were still a little dark from moisture.

Luke's eyes glazed over. When I had first walked in on him milking his cock, he had been holding a pair of my underwear very similar to these over his face, huffing my smell. Now, as he held the underwear in one hand, I could see his arm, muscles tense, almost as if he was fighting against the urge to bring them up to his face. The instinct was so strong, that for a moment, he forgot where he was. He slowed down, and he just stared at the sweat-soaked jockstrap. My scent had hit him full on, and his dick began to swell and grow under its influence. He could try to pray these feelings away, but he was hopelessly addicted to cock.

I reached up, and with a gentle push, I brought the jockstrap to his nose.

His eyes fluttered, and his breathing deepened. He was drinking in my smell, letting my pheromones twist and warp his brain. His own cock stood fully erect at four inches.

I moved my hand to his crotch, holding the head of his dick in my palm, kneading and massaging it in a circular motion designed to overstimulate. He squirmed but continued to huff. He was lost, high on me.

Then a car drove past, and Luke jumped. In a moment, he went from his cock drunk state to being quickly sobered up, and he scrambled to pull the backpack over his bare dick. His cheeks were red.

He made quick work of the rest of the clothing. He pulled the slightly damp jockstrap up, securing his small cock in its overgenerous pouch. Afterwards, he put on the Daisy Dukes, and even as he sat, I could see how much his feminine hips filled out the seat. Then, sinking down as to not be seen by his friends, he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it over his head, immediately pulling the mesh hoodie I had dropped in out and slipping it over his head. I could see flashes of his skin as the evening light fell through the car window. He even switched out his shoes to a pair of high top leather sneakers I had.

Even still, he kept one item on: his cross necklace.

"And you have a mask?" Luke said, trying to look in every other corner of the backpack.

I knew that he wanted to put it on as soon as possible, so that people wouldn't see him, but I wanted to prolong this as much as I could. "It's in the trunk," I said innocently, "but you can get out and grab it if you want to."

"Where's your outfit?" He asked.

"Right," I said. I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off. Underneath I wore a white ribbed tank top and a chain. "Done."

Luke's face contorted, and he pushed his lips together and looked as if he was going to say something. I was bending Luke really far, and frankly, I was very surprised that he hadn't snapped yet. He had to have a point that he would outright refuse, but no matter how much I manipulated him, he submitted. Finally, he spoke. "J--just drive."

By that point in the late summer, the sun would be completely set by 7:30 p.m. With Bible study and the drive to Pixie, the world was washed in a post-Sunset glow when we arrived. Luke's head was kept low, but on a swivel the whole drive as he simultaneously tried to make sure that he wouldn't be seen and kept an eye out for anyone he who might recognize him. his full lips shone in the street lamps as we passed them

We got to Pixie early enough that there was no line when we arrived.

From the outside, the club was kind of a hole in the wall. They specifically blacked out the windows to keep the club feeling all day long, and with posters promoting weekend male dancers and upcoming drag shows, most of the actual façade was covered. Still, I knew how rich the history here was. It had been a destination for decades for young queer men coming into their own. I hoped that I would be able to add one more to their number by the end of everything.

I parked in a spot far away from the entrance, and Luke looked at me with an annoyance. "I know you said I would blend in once we got in there," he said, "but I prefer not to have to walk too far before that."

"Too bad," I said, turning off my car and pulling out the keys. I opened my door and stepped out.

"Wait!" Luke yelled, opening his own door. "Can you at least grab me the mask from the trunk?"

I smiled before I even turned around to him. "Oh," I said, "yeah."

I circled to the trunk and popped it open. In all of my time avoiding Luke through the first weeks of school, I had found a couple of cool spots around town.

One of these was a latex and leather store. As the trunk fully opened, I pulled out the tote bag I had stashed earlier, and I pulled out a partial latex hood. It left the chin and mouth open, and it had two holes for the wearer's eyes, but besides that, it fully encased the subject's head in the shiny, ink-like material.

I closed the trunk and brought the hood around to Luke, not able to hold back a smile.

His face turned bright red once he saw it. After the amount of gay porn he had "researched," he knew exactly what this was.

"I--I thought you meant an N-95 or something," he stammered.

I just shook my head and held out the hood. "Well this is what I got," I said.

Luke looked around. I could see the turmoil on his face. He was a straight-identifying Christian boy who went to bible study and church every week. He believed with his whole heart. Now, something else had risen inside of him, and he couldn't resist it. No matter how much the thought horrified him, he

wanted

to see inside Pixie. He wanted to feel the heat of other men's bodies. He wanted more. He couldn't get it without hiding his face.

He took the hood from my hand with shaky fingers, and he started to put it over his head.

I knew we wore the same hat size, so I shouldn't have been surprised, but watching the hood fit him like it was tailored was still so satisfying. There was a zipper to close it on the back, and watching the plasticky black develop his head Center chill down my spine.

After adjusting the hood and making sure that he could see through it just fine, Luke stepped out of the car. His legs quiver with each step, and I could practically see his knees knocking.

It was warm, but he shivered.

I started for the door of Pixie without waiting for him, and he quickened his pace to try to catch up. It was easy to give away to the bouncer and flash IDs, and once we were in,

Luke gawked all around us.

Among the emotions traveling through his head, I knew that Luke would be angry with me. I told him that this outfit would make sure that he blended in, which was an outright lie. The fact that he thought that a latex hood, mesh hoodie, and nearly nonexistent denim shorts would be regular wear for the guests of Pixie showed exactly how naïve he was.

As soon as he stepped in, eyes from all over the still-sparse bar and dance floor turned to him. I watched gay men of all ages and builds move their eyes all over Luke, devouring him in their minds.

He hissed to me. "

This

will help me blend in?"

"Relax," I said, "this is the early crowd. You'll see. By the end of this, you'll feel like you belong here."

The thought of fitting in was even scarier than sticking out to Luke.

I grabbed his hand and brought us into the club.

We passed the dance floor with cages next to the stage, and Luke tried not to stare at damn near everything. It was his first time walking into a place like this, and he was immediately baptized with flashing lights, various colognes, and leering men.

He reached up and adjusted his latex mask, making sure it was secure.

I brought us to a back corner booth. At the table next to us, two willowy twinks were cuddling, one trailing his fingers up and down the other's slim chest, dipping his fingers between the buttons to touch bare skin.

We sat down, and even over the noise of the room, we could hear the couple as they began to kiss and giggle.

From where we were, we could see the whole bar. As more and more people walked in, we did see a couple more slutty outfits. In particular, there was a group of older muscle daddies who walked in with see-through tank tops and short shorts, with one of them wearing a chest harness. Luke stared at them long and hard when they entered.

Noted.

Luke and I sat in silence, and I listened to the music as it rattled through the building.

Finally, someone got enough courage to walk up to us.

"Hi," a college-aged student in a flannel and glasses said. "Are you two together?" He was handsome, with stubble and a dad bod.

Luke's mouth opened, and he was wholly unable to form words.

"Just fuck buddies," I said.

The latex whined as Luke whipped his head around.