He was a gypsy boy, small, lithe, dark, sultry, with silky long black hair that Karl ran his fingers through as the boy knelt to him in the foliage behind the storage shed beside the Munich, Germany, skateboard park. The man held the boy to his crotch by cupping his head and the boy sucked his cock. He didn’t let the boy finish him, though, before pushing the head away and turning the boy, putting him on all fours. The boy was easily manipulated into position. He was being paid well and, although he did enjoy skateboarding, he came here every Sunday to hustle and make money off his young, supple body.

The man pulled the boy’s T-shirt over his head as he moved him into place and then jerked down on the waistband of the boy’s shorts from behind and pulled his shorts and brief down to his ankles. He ran a finger down into the boy’s crack and then penetrated him. The boy shuddered, but he held. He knew that something larger than that finger would soon be penetrating him.

The man pulled a nasty-looking ultrathick dildo out of his pocket. He called it The Karl. It was black, veiny, curved up a bit. It wasn’t long, only six inches of business, but it became very thick as it went it. The circumference was six-and-a-quarter inches at the rim of the bulb, eight inches at midpoint, and nine-and-a-half inches at the root. Its most distinctive aspect was that it had a thick metal ring pierced in the head. It was custom made.

Spitting on it and running an arm under the gypsy boy’s belly and lifting his body so that the boy’ knees came off the dirt and he had to scrabble with his toes to remain steady, Karl started working the boy’s hole with the dildo, slowly screwing it in, opening up the boy’s passage. As the boy started to pant hard and threatened to cry out, Karl’s arm came out from under the boy’s belly and went to his mouth and nose, controlling the lad’s breathing so he had more to think about than objecting to the thick dildo opening his ass up.

The boy was trembling, but he held. He was a bit unsure. Most of the time it was a quick in and quick out. This man was taking his time, and the dildo was thicker than the lad was used to taking. That said, although just fourteen, the gypsy boy was no virgin.

Eventually, the shaft was in to the root and Karl was moving it around. The passage had slowly spread open to accommodate it and, although still trembling and panting, the gypsy boy had settled down and even was rocking his ass back against the probing of the shaft. He thought of the wad of money in the pocket of his shorts. This was more than he’d ever been paid for sex before.

The dildo came out with a slurp. Karl pulled his belt out of the loops of his trousers, made a noose of one end and slipped it over the boy’s head, tightening it around the gypsy skateboarder’s throat. The boy gagged and scrabbled at the collar with his hands, but Karl kept up just enough pressure on the tightness to worry the boy and distract from unzipping himself and pulling out his cock. Karl’s erection was only six inches in length, but the shaft was veiny and curved up a bit. The mushroom cap was massive. The dick was thick, six-and-a-quarter inches at the rim of the bulb, over eight inches midway up, and nine-and-a-half inches at the root. The root was enhanced in girth beyond this because it was sheathed by a leather band with silver studs on it. When the cock was buried to the root—and it would be buried to the root—there would be some eleven inches of studded girth rubbing against the rim of the boy’s entrance. The most distinctive aspect of Karl’s cock was that he had a thick metal ring pierced in the head. The man hovered over the boy as he rolled on and smoothed out a condom.

The man’s right leg went over the boy’s hips and he was saddled high on the boy’s ass. He gripped the back of the boy’s neck, pressing his cheek into the dirt behind the shed and took his time screwing his cock inside the boy’s passage. The dildo had already done the most painful work of stretching the passage, which was well used, so the boy did no more than pant, whimper, and moan as Karl bottomed in him, pulled back, thrust forward, and then set up the rhythm of the doggy fuck. There was some deep groaning when the cock bottomed and the silver studs came into play. When the position was established, Karl straightened up and used the pull on the tail of the belt lassoed around the boy’s throat to play rodeo king, increasing the vigor of his thrusts.

Just before coming, Karl pulled out; slipped off the spent condom, dropping it among a collection of other used rubbers at the base of the shed’s back wall; and creamed the boy’s inner thighs with cum.

He pulled the boy up to resting on his knees in front of him, cupped the back of the boy’s head, and guided him to take his shaft in his mouth and clean it off. Then he pushed the boy back on his haunches and pulled another wad of money out of a pocket. The boy had been paid for giving head and taking cock before they’d done it.

“That boy you skate with a lot here, the blond guy ... small, like you. Is he fourteen too?”

“Deter? Yes, but what do you want him for?” the gypsy boy asked. “You can do me again whenever you want. Deter, he and me, we’ve been watching you sitting on the bench by the skate park and watching us. We knew what you wanted. You can do me whenever you want. That’s some cock you got on you. And the ring—”

“The other boy, the small blond. He’s fourteen too?” Karl persisted.

“Yes, he is.”

“He takes cock too, doesn’t he? I’ve seen him. I’ve seen him come behind this shed with men.”

“Yeah, he does. We don’t come down here just to skate. We make good money down here.”

Karl fanned out the wad of bills. “The next time you two are here and I’m sitting on the bench—next Sunday afternoon—you tell him what I want and what I’ll pay. You get him to come over to me and you’ll get more of this.”

“As I said, I’m happy to—”

“You tell him that. You get him to come over to the bench and there’s more of this for you. You don’t even have to give up your hole to earn it.”

The hard look Karl gave the boy obviated any more discussion. “Yes, sir, I’ll get him for you,” the gypsy boy said, holding out his hand to take the money.

Sunday afternoon, at the skateboard park in Munich, Germany, big, beefy, forties, robust, nearly bald Karl sat on a bench. He watched the two boys, one dark, sultry and the other blond, angelic, both small of stature, perfect of form, lithe of movement, laughing and smiling as they did skateboard tricks. He saw them stop and the dark one talk to the blond and point across the park to where Karl was sitting on the bench. When they stopped talking, the gypsy boy went back to doing skating tricks and, carrying his board, the small blond walked over to Karl’s bench, a smile on his face.

“Hi,” the boy said as he reached the bench. “Ramone tells me—”

“Is it true? Are you fourteen?”

“Yes.” It was an important question to ask in Germany.

“Sit with me, please.” The boy sat on the bench, putting his skateboard down beside him. It was a hot day. He’d taken his T-shirt off and the tail of it was stuffed into the waistband of his shorts. He was wearing sneakers without socks. He was, needless to say, a beautiful, perfectly formed small boy. He also was less than half the size of the beefy Karl.

“I’m Deter,” the boy volunteered. Karl didn’t reciprocate with a name.

“Will you do it for this?” Karl asked, pulling a wad of money out of his pocket.

“Where? There’s a shed over there. Behind that?”

“No, not here. In that building over there. I have the keys.” Karl gestured to a four-story brick building on a street facing the park. It was wedged between two other four-story buildings, all of them with retail space on the first floor and workrooms above. Some had apartments at the top.

“I don’t normally leave the park for it, unless it’s something special.”

“It’s something special,” Karl said. He unbuttoned his shirt to show that his hirsute chest was encased by a black leather harness with silver studs on it. He took another wad of money out of his pocket, this one thicker than the first one. “It would be special and it would be multiple times and you’d be in there all night.”

“I don’t know.”

Yet another wad of money appeared. The boy wavered and then smiled and took the money, stuffing it in his shorts. Karl looked around the park. The only one in sight was Ramone, the gypsy boy, still doing tricks but checking out the bench now and then too. He reached over Deter, picked up the boy’s skateboard, and straddled it across the boy’s lap.

Deter, surprised, said, “What—?” But Karl ignored him, cupped the back of the boy’s head and brought their faces together for a deep kiss. As they were kissing, Karl snaked his right hand under the skateboard, unzipped the boy’s shorts, and inserted his hand in the open fly. The boy gasped and gave a muffled response while Karl was firmly holding him in the kiss. Karl spent a few seconds fondling the boy’s genitals while Deter squirmed, his legs going to jelly. Karl’s fingers pushed under the boy’s balls and then up, into his crack.

Karl pulled away from the kiss, and demanded, “spread your legs, scoot down in the bench, roll your hips up. I want to get my fingers in there.”

The boy whimpered but he did do as commanded. Karl penetrated him with his middle finger and then moved deeper, spreading and stretching the passage. The boy started to pant and to move as if away from the exploring finger. He swiveled his head in panic, either worrying someone would see them, or looking for help. But Karl held him tightly and continued to probe, adding a finger. The boy’s limbs went further to rubber and he relaxed into it, his hips involuntarily rocking on the fingers. This was new and different. This was sexy. This was getting him hard.

At length Karl extracted the fingers, encased the boy’s cock with his hand, and, still holding Deter close and devouring his mouth with kisses, stroked the boy to a release.

He pulled his hand out, zipped the boy up.

“Is that it then?” the boy asked, the surprise showing in his voice.

“No, that damn well isn’t it,” Karl declared. “Come with me. Over to that building.”

Fully docile now, Deter stood and walked across the park beside Karl. The man guided the boy with a hand on his buttocks. Ramone, the gypsy boy, watched them go, wishing that it was him—not just for the money but because the man was commanding and big and maybe just a little bit crazy. In any case, the man didn’t make it all about him. He gave something, something sexy, to the other guy.

As they approached the building, Deter said, “Do you work here?” He was beginning to focus on the storefront on the building’s first floor and realizing what kind of shop it was.

“I own the place. It’s my business. I have an apartment at the top. The other floors are where we make the stuff.”

“What stuff?” Deter asked in a small voice, but now getting a good look at the first-floor shop, he thought he knew what stuff.

“Sex toys and clothes,” Karl answered. “This leather harness, these leather pants with the drop crotch. Dildos and such. Didn’t the dark boy tell you about the dildo?”

“Yes, Ramone told me,” Deter said in a small voice.

Karl pulled the dildo he’d used on Ramone out of his pocket and forced Deter to take it, to hold it, to feel its girth and the curve and veining ... and the ring in the bulb. “And still you are coming with me.”

“It’s a lot of money,” Deter said, but he knew it wasn’t just the money. “Ramone told me that your cock ... the dildo...”