Schneider’s First Dick
Synopsis: Joshua Schneider – a convicted murderer and drug lord sentenced to life behind bars – has escaped from prison. Disguised as a woman named Joanna Webb, Schneider plans to seduce, marry, and murder the man who ratted him out to the cops, both for revenge and to inherit the $1 million reward the man got for turning him in. In order to do this, the crossdressing criminal will have to get over his worst fear: having to suck another man’s dick.
When the doorbell rang, Joshua Schneider’s blood ran cold. He was here. He had arrived.
Schneider reluctantly pushed himself up off the couch. He straightened his blonde wig as he made his way over to the door. Before he opened it, he checked himself out in the mirror. He’d given himself the flimsiest makeup job he ever had. The only thing that lay between his disguise and his true identity was a thin layer of hurriedly slapped on makeup, some eyeshadow, and some lipstick. He barely looked like his Joanna Webb; he looked like some random broad who only just woke up. He wouldn’t even dare go outside with such a bodgy makeup job, but it would do for tonight. He couldn’t be fucked putting in any more effort. Not for this.
He quickly glanced downward to check that the two lumps under his grey women’s shirt were in their proper places. Then, he did up the fly on his black men’s jeans when he realized that it was undone, and opened the door.
A tall, heavily muscled man in a white singlet and black jeans stood on the other side. He was smiling. Schneider was not.
The crossdressing criminal grunted as a greeting and then invited the guy inside. The visitor looked confused but friendly as he came in.
When the door was closed, the two stood there awkwardly for a few moments, before finally, Schneider spoke.
“I’m a bloke,” Schneider told the guy in his male voice.
The visitor’s head tilted slightly in confusion. “I know. You told me on the phone.”
“Yeah well I just wanted to remind you.” Schneider had to look up at the man when addressing him. He was over six foot whereas Schneider was barely six foot eleven.
“Noted,” the man said. He indicated the room in which they stood with his hands – a dimly lit hotel room with a city view through the window. “So what can I do for you?”
Schneider’s neutral expression transformed into a hideous scowl. “I need to learn how to suck a cock.”
A few minutes later, Schneider was sitting beside the male prostitute he’d hired, on the bed. They both had glasses in their hands. Schneider’s was filled to the brim with vodka, and he was gulping it down so quickly that the taste was making him wretch.
Eventually, the world was swimming before Schneider’s evil eyes. Finally, he was drunk enough to do what he was about to do.
“Alright,” Schneider slurred, pulling his blonde wig down to straighten it yet again. It took him a moment to say his next words. “Get it out for me.”
In horror, Schneider watched the man unzip his fly. In even more horror, he then witnessed the guy shove his hand down into his black briefs and then whip out a massive, wrinkled 8-inch schlong.
Schneider’s breathing began to quicken as he looked at the dick. The idea of even touching the long, thick, uncut, throbbing tube of meat was way too much to handle, even drunk. He’d need to take his time with this.
Ever since Schneider became confident that his plan with Volkov was working, the vengeful ex-drug lord knew things would come to this. Merely kissing Volkov – even though that in itself was taking things way, way to far in Schneider’s mind – would not be enough going forward. His victim was going to start asking for more from Joanna soon, and refusing to do anything but pash the guy was going to look suspicious eventually. He couldn’t have sex with the guy – for obvious reasons – so he had to find an alternative way to appease the pig sexually. He knew what the only alternative was. He was going to have to give the guy a blowjob. Joshua Schneider was going to have to suck the dick of another man.
Unfortunately, the idea of doing that was nothing like having to actually do it. To actually take a man’s dick in his hand. To jerk it. To pleasure it. To take it between his lips. To taste his precum on his tongue. To run the tip of his tongue over a long, thick shaft and to suck a man’s balls. It was too much. Looking at that throbbing hunk of meat jutting out of the man’s crotch – it was too much. He couldn’t do it. He needed to back out.
“I can’t do this…” he said quietly, wriggling away from the much larger man next to him. “I can’t do it.”
The (gay) male prostitute – who knew everything about the situation except why a straight man needed to learn how to be okay with sucking a dick – knew that it was his job to make the guy comfortable. He had $1200 riding on this gig, after all. If Schneider didn’t suck, he didn’t get paid. “You can,” he told him quietly. The gentle words sounded ridiculous coming out of someone so large and beefy. “You can do it. It’s not hard. All you have to do is put something in your mouth. Just think of it that way. It’s just like putting something in your mouth.”
If anything, Schneider looked even more horrified by that way of looking at things. His breathing quickened even further, and was getting louder and louder. He couldn’t see any alternative to doing this. If he wanted to destroy Volkov’s marriage, he was going to need to show that he was better than his current wife. Half the reason that a woman could be better than another was how willing she was to put out sexually. If he was going to ruin Volkov’s life the way he so desperately wanted to – if he wanted to destroy his marriage, wreck his relationships with his family, become the sole beneficiary on his will, and then kill him to inherit the money – he was going to need to do this. He was going to need to suck dick. He had an opportunity now to practice in a low-pressure situation, instead of doing it for the first time in front of his victim. He needed to pass as a seasoned cocksucker when ‘Joanna’ got on her knees before him for the first time. He needed to do this.
“I’m gonna start by just touching it for a bit,” Schneider said. He didn’t bother to put on a female voice. He couldn’t give a fuck about that right now. His eyes were glassy and he spoke slowly. He was drunk, but clearly no amount of drunkenness could ever make a straight man okay with something like this.
Schneider splayed the thin fingers of his right hand, so that they were all fanned out. Then, after a few minutes of him just looking at his fingers and trying not to hyperventilate, he slowly began moving his hand toward the flaccid cock belonging to the man next to him.
Schneider sniffled when his hand moved close – only inches away – from the other man’s dick. The fact that life had brought him here, to this place, and had forced him to do this, was too much to bear. Anger couldn’t help him here; he had no other choice but to feel sad. Tears gathered in his eyes, but he wiped them away quickly with his free hand. He wiped them away just before he finally managed to work up the gumption to close his hand, and wrap his fingers around another man’s cock.
The criminal produced a mournful, saddened groan as he felt the shaft’s girth. As he felt the other man’s thickness. The coolness of his foreskin. The veins beneath the skin. He hated the feeling of it all so much. But, he used every ounce of willpower he had to keep his hand there. He figured that, if he kept it there long enough, he would eventually get used to it.
He didn’t. Three minutes later, it still felt awful. It felt sick. He would rather have drank raw sewerage than keep that now-warm cock in the palm of his hand. He had to withdraw, so he did.
“How was that?” the male prostitute – who had been patiently waiting in silence for his client to deal with his situation – asked.
Schneider scrunched up his face as he looked at his contaminated hand. Washing it wouldn’t be enough to make him stop thinking about the fact that he’d touched another man’s penis with it. He wanted to cut it off. It was a biohazard. He want that hand to be a part of his body any longer. The man took another huge sip of alcohol, before answering: “It was awful,” he admitted.
The male prostitute merely nodded, deciding to not take the straight man’s disgust for his body personally. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Take your time. We’ll try again in a few minutes.”
Schneider nodded and decided to take advantage of the fact that he could take his time. He sat there for a minute, feeling the effects of the alcohol, and panting with breathlessness, until he was finally ready to go again.
This time was slightly easier. Schneider just bit the bullet and wrapped his hand around the man’s thick shaft again. Then, after telling himself to stop being a sissy, he began to pull the man’s foreskin down and up, gently at first, then quicker.
When the male prostitute moaned, Schneider’s stifled a vomit. He hated the fact that his hand was pleasuring another man.
This went on for one hour, with a drunk Schneider slowly jerking off another man. He decided to spend a long time just touching the penis: getting used to touching one, feeling one, that wasn’t his. He needed to get himself to the point where he was no longer obviously revolted by the sight of another man’s cock. Volkov would have many questions for Joanna if the first thing she did upon seeing the monster in his pants was to gag and vomit all over the carpet. He couldn’t let that happen. He needed to pretend that he was at the same point as a 25-year-old woman would be: a master of dick – an expert with years of experience pleasuring men’s cocks.
Eventually, however, Schneider knew that he would have to kick things up a notch. It wasn’t enough for him to merely learn how to be okay with giving a man a handjob; he was going to need to learn how to deal with doing more.
“Are you ready to move on?” the male prostitute asked after a time, knowing that the handjob was only a small part of what would happen tonight.
Yet more tears gathered in Schneider’s eyes. He sniffled and wiped them away once again, and then nodded.
A minute later, Schneider found himself in one of – if not the – worst positions he could possibly imagine. He was on his knees, with his head between a man’s spread, hairy legs. The enormous cock that he had been working on all evening was there in all its horrific glory; hard as a rock, jutting out toward him. Even there, a foot away from Schneider’s mouth, the criminal could barely deal with it being so close. He had no idea at all how he was going to be okay with putting that in his mouth. It was sick. It was perverted. It was unholy. There wasn’t a thing he could possibly imagine that would be more disgusting than what he was about to do. And yet, his life had brought him here. His life had brought him to his knees, so that he was kneeling before a man and his cock.
Schneider spent twenty minutes in that position, just staring down the big dick that was pointing at him, waiting to be pleasured. He’d decided multiple times during that twenty minutes to just suck it up and go down on the guy, but he just couldn’t do it. Even when his mind was, for a split second, willing, his body just was not.
Finally, he worked up the courage to move a little closer.
Schneider walked on his knees slightly, and eventually managed to get himself a bit nearer to the other man’s dick. The criminal’s own dick was in his pants, softer than it had ever been before.
When Schneider realized just how close his mouth now was to another man’s penis, he couldn’t help but whimper. Weak but hysterical sounds forced their way out of his throat, as the horror of what he was about to do gripped him.
He wasted even more time, trying to stifle back screams as he kneeled there with his lips inches away from a hardened, waiting cock. Eventually, his impatience started to get the better of him, and he did what he knew he was inevitably going to do.
Schneider took a deep breath in an anticipation, and almost gagged when he did so. The smell wafting off that man’s cock was off-the-charts kind of bad. He’d never smelled anything like it. But, he still needed to push through.
And push through, he did. Instead of taking the whole cock in his mouth, Schneider decided to experiment a little first. As such, he parted his lips slightly, pushed his tongue out from between his teeth, and then placed the tip of his tongue on the head of the man’s giant cock.
The moment the tip of Schneider’s tongue wriggled its way inside the opening in the man’s foreskin, and touched the slimy meat inside, the criminal felt the bile rise from his stomach.
It came up too quickly for him to do anything.
He covered his mouth, but it was too late.
With a horrible, ripping gagging sound, a torrent of vomit exited the guy’s mouth. It splattered on the floor next to the horrified male prostitute’s feet, just before the person who put it there got up and ran at full speed to the bathroom.
He switched the light on and threw himself to the floor next to the bowl.
Schneider then put both his arms on the toilet seat, and began to projectile vomit again and again, so loud that it made a dog somewhere outside start barking.
The man wretched so much and so hard that it made him start to feel sick in the stomach. He felt lightheaded as he still continued to vomit over and over even though there was nothing left to come out.
Minutes passed after he’d finished. He leaned on the bowl, with his head over the toilet, panting and crying. All the while, Schneider began to think dark thoughts. He knew that something inside him had broken. His mind had been shattered. He couldn’t think clearly, if at all. His eyes became glassy, and his blood ran cold. Sweat poured off his forehead and he started shivering with fever.
After a few minutes, there was no life in his eyes. Whatever was left of his horrible little soul had exited his body. He was an empty vessel; a useless husk. The trauma was simply too much.
When the dark thoughts returned, he had to get a grip on himself. Otherwise, he was going to do something very bad. Not to someone else, but to himself. He hated himself. He hated what he had become. He hated what he had just done. He wanted to start taking tablets. He wanted to overdose. He had never been so depressed in his life. He wanted to end it all.
Just as he contemplated doing this, however, a clear thought broke through the fog of his mind. At that moment, he knew that he could not let this be the end.
He did this to me, Schneider thought. He did this to me.
As this thought ran through the escaped convict’s mind, his body surged with an anger that replaced his sadness completely.
In an instant, Schneider wasn’t depressed anymore.
He grabbed onto his anger and hate and pushed his thoughts of self-harm away.
He would suck a dick tonight if it was the last thing he would ever do.
He would destroy Volkov’s life, take away everything he loves, steal all his money, and then finally take away his life.
He would get his revenge.
With that, Schneider picked himself off the cold, bathroom floor, and made his way back out into the bedroom, where he would force himself to suck.