“You’re late. I thought you weren’t coming,” Mr. Kleinschmidt barked in a thin, raspy voice with just a hint of an accent. He looked down at the boy.
Danny handed the big man the newspaper. Otto Kleinschmidt tossed it onto a wooden hall bench already bedecked with other papers, all unopened and unread.
“Get your worthless ass in here,” the man barked to the small-boned twelve-year-old boy.
Danny was a beautiful child, small yes, but that only added to his delicate, ethereal grace. He was slender and angelic, reminding Otto of one of those little cunts from the Vienna Boys Choir. Indeed, Danny had dirty blond hair that hung over his forehead, large blue eyes, a darling, delicate nose with tiny nostrils, beautiful full lips and a face shaped somewhat like a valentine heart. He was dressed in an old tee shirt, baggy jeans, and tennis shoes. Danny was not given a large clothing allowance. Danny was given no allowance. Danny was required to earn money for his stepfather. If he did not produce the expected amount each day, he was beaten senseless.
Otto placed one beefy hand on the rear of Danny's neck and the other under the boy's delicate chin. He lifted the kid's face.
“Why the fuck was you late? I thought you weren’t coming. I almost called your father.”
At the mention of his stepfather, little Danny began to tremble.
“It wasn't my fault, Mr. Kleinschmidt, Mr. Wasserman took a long time to cum today.”
“Fucking old Jew. He's too old to be fucking ass. You should have fucked better to bring him off more quickly.”
Danny thought briefly of the eighty-eight-year-old Jewish man who was one of his regular customers. Wasserman and Kleinschmidt were the worst. That's why he saved them for the end of his route. Wasserman drooled all over the boy, and it was so damn difficult to suck his withered old dick to erection. And it smelled so bad, like dead meat. And, of course, Wasserman loved to have his old fetid balls sucked endlessly.
Kleinschmidt reached down and grabbed the bottom of the little boy's tee shirt and peeled it upward, revealing the thin little boy stomach and chest of the kid. His nipples were still childlike and unformed, and his armpits sported not a single hair.
“Fucking old kyke, he probably actually reads the fucking newspaper you deliver.”
Kleinschmidt ran his thick-skinned hands over the boy's soft skin, feeling the moist underarms and brushing the little boy titties. His fat drooling German dick poked obscenely out from behind his robe.
“You see, you see how badly my schwantz wants you? You want it too, don't you?”
Danny hated this part as much as the actual fucking. Whereas the fucking sometimes damaged his little ass, the role-playing and dirty talk damaged his emotions and his mind. He was becoming a fucked up little boy.
“Yes, sir,” he mumbled.
“Tell me, tell me how much you think about it and want it,” Otto drooled, letting his spit drip down onto the kid's face.
“Oh, I want your dick so bad, sir, that all day in school today all I did was dream about sucking on your big dick.”
“My big German dick.”
Stubby fingers opened the boy's pants.
“Yes, sir, your big German dick, and all day I thought about you fucking my pussy.”
Surely, no way for a cute, healthy twelve-year-old boy to be talking, but Danny had learned well. Danny's stepfather had taught him how to please a wide variety of perverts.
Otto Kleinschmidt slid one hand inside the boy’s cheap white underpants to cup the beautiful tiny ass. He slid one finger into the boy's ass crack to rub the puckered asshole.
“Was your little pussy wet for me all day in school, my little liebschen?”
The beautiful boy shook his hair from his eyes. A couple more hours and he could go home and do his homework unless his stepfather was there, then he'd have to suck him off or get dicked first.
“Oh yes, sir, all day in school, during all my classes, my pussy leaked cunt slop while I thought about your big fat German sausage. My underpants and jeans got wet with my clitty sauce thinking about your cock.”
Otto slid one blunt fingertip into the twelve-year-old boy's well-stretched asshole.
“How many men fucked you today?”
Danny chewed his lip for a moment as he not sure. He was fucked so often he lost count.
“Seven, seven men fucked me after school today, and my stepfather fucked me this morning before school so eight in all.”
Otto grunted and laughed.
“Such a busy little heine you have. Such a popular little boy cunt.”
His little ass was popular, his stepfather saw to that. The poor kid was so busy earning money for his stepfather that he had no time for hobbies like other boys. If his grades fell, the old man beat him. If he talked to friends or watched TV, the old man beat him. Face it; the sadistic asshole just loved any excuse to thump the little boy black and blue. He had to be careful though; lots of the customers didn't want the boy bruised too much. The belt marks on his little ass turned off some of the clients, although others were inspired to add their own whip marks to the large red welts.
Danny's underpants were down around his ankles now, revealing his beautiful, pale pink, five-inch dick with two plump, hairless balls beneath. Danny was reaching puberty.
“Ach, I would love to torture your balls, burn them and put them in a vice, but your stubborn father won't let me damage the goods. Your balls just beg to be squashed to a pulp. But I can still slap them, can't I?”
Danny slipped off his shoes, stepped out of his pants and underpants, and spread his legs wide as he knew he must. He hated this part. Hated the pain.
Otto rested the boy nuts on the palm of his wide hand then he pulled back and slapped the nuts as hard as he could. Danny emitted a sound, not unlike the squawk of a wounded bird, and crumpled onto the dirty carpet. Otto Kleinschmidt roared with laughter at the little boy's pain and stroked his big prick. The kid's body trembled. He loved to see young boys in pain.
“Come. Again,” he barked before the last waves of nausea had even left the boy's body.
“Please...please…not again…it hurts so bad,” the boy whispered with tears running down his pale, smooth cheeks.
“Yeah, that's what I like. You beg me. Come again...schnell.”
Danny, his legs weak and shaking, struggled to his feet.
“Legs wider. Yeah, now I can get at those goddamned little boy balls.”
He smacked the kid's scrotum again, sending the boy into convulsions of pain, writhing on the carpet.
“Yeah, that is good. Very good.”
Otto pumped his drooling pisser.
The poor twelve-year-old was gagging and gulping air. Looking like a yearling learning to walk, he had trouble climbing onto his big boy feet.
“Spread your legs! Hurry up, or I call your father.”
Danny spread his thin legs while Otto retrieved a rolled up newspaper from the hall bench. Using that, he swatted the kid's nut sack as hard as he could and bellowed with laughter as the little boy was lifted off the ground by the blow.
Danny blacked out. Otto stood right there in his dirty, cluttered living room and started to piss on the boy's face. No wonder the house had such an unusual combination of odors. As the boy came round, Otto was on his knees boy the kid's face, feeding the boy dick. He shoved his fat sweaty fuck slab into the boy's soft young mouth. Danny began to suck and tongue at once. He had been taught well. You don't keep a client waiting. Ever. His head still spun, and pain coursed its way through his tiny body, but he concentrated on the cock in his mouth. He had to make it feel good. The poor boy sucked so much dick that his mouth tasted of dirty cock all the time. In his mind, while the big piss tool was shoved down his throat, Danny tried to calculate if he had enough money to go home. It depended on how big a tip Mr. Kleinschmidt gave him. If he didn't make enough from the regular customers, he would still have to hustle his little ass down on Water Street for a few hours. Part of his stepfather's sadism was to charge clients so little that Danny had to get fucked continually to meet the daily goal. Some days Danny's stepfather would just raise the required amount too.
“I need some new shoes, bring in an extra hundred tonight,” the asshole would say.
Dick slime ran out of the boy's mouth and coated his smooth young face. Otto fucked in and out of the boy’s mouth, his huge hairy balls slapping the boy's chin and neck.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah....” the kraut wheezed.
Otto turned his body slightly and lifted the kid's head so he could get more dick down the boy's throat. Danny was like a rag doll or like a butterfly pinned to a board. He was pinned by the big drooling German dick. Kleinschmidt was worse than Wasserman. And although the black dude, Mr. Towne had the biggest dick, at least he was gentle. Although Towne's sixteen-year-old son was one rough son of a bitch. Danny hated getting fucked by him and his friends.
Otto pulled out of the boy's mouth before he came and watched his pre-cum drool and slop all over the pretty, little boy’s face.
“Yeah, that is so good, isn’t it? You love the taste of my prick sauce. If you eat it every day, it will make you big and strong. But your other hole—your little pussy—wants some of that fine sauce too, so up on your hands and knees my little liebschen while I fuck your tender little cunt.”
Danny crawled to his hands and knees. God, he was tired, and he still had a history test to study for. He wished Wasserman hadn't insisted on giving him an enema as that always tired the boy out. Of course, Mr. Hiller, making Danny dance naked on the dining room table for fifteen minutes hadn't helped either.
Danny sometimes wondered what other kids—normal kids—did after school. He longed to be a normal kid with an ordinary family. He thought about that as Otto Kleinschmidt rammed his thick long prick up his little boy asshole. It was a big dick, but it didn't hurt much. After all, Danny's kindly stepfather was starting to train the kid to take a fist up his asscunt. Not that Danny's twelve-year-old pussy was all reamed out and a loose sloppy cunt. No, no, Danny did cunt muscle exercises each night to keep that hole as tight as a virgin's twat on her wedding night. Danny exercised his pussy constantly because even one single complaint would bring on a world of pain and anguish the boy dreaded. Danny's mind wandered as Otto Kleinschmidt fucked his little boy asshole, but only enough to escape from the fucking routine.
He still moaned like a whore in heat and whispered,” Oh, yeah, fuck me harder, fuck me harder with your big prick.”
Sometimes Mr. Kleinschmidt made Danny dress up like a little German girl. Danny hated that. He had even taught the boy a song to sing in German. A song translated as, “I am a little German girl and here's my little puss.”
Danny had to do whatever they wanted for now. But he dreamed of the day when he would be old enough to run away in just a year or two, just until he was old enough to make it on his own. He could still sell his ass and then keep the money for himself until he had enough to get out of the sex business and into something else. Poor Danny didn't know that his stepfather was planning on selling the boy before his thirteenth birthday to a sadistic Arab.
The time went by quickly, and soon Otto shot a huge sloppy load of fuck up the little boy's asscunt. Danny didn't even clean up, he just pulled up his pants and headed for the door.
“You know, I don't think you put as much into the fuck today as usual. You were kind of lackluster, so I only give you ten dollars.”
“Damn,” Danny thought.
That meant he would have to pick up at least three Johns at the bus station before he could go home and study. It was going to be a very long night.