OVER THE FENCE

BY DEMI HAMLIN

Part 1

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Frankie muttered as he hopped
the wooden fence to Mr. Priester's yard. He gave one more
fleeting glance to his friends, but their glares told him loud
and clear to get his ass over that fence and get their ball back.

Frankie hadn't meant to hit it into Mr. Priester's yard. And he
really didn't mean to send it through the second-storey window.
He'd even told them how much he sucked at baseball, hockey, and
pretty much anything that used a stick. But they'd begged him to
play, and now their ball was in the token creepy old guy's place.

After cutting the inside of his thigh on the top of the fence,
Frankie landed on his hands and knees in Mr. Priester's perfectly
manicured lawn. He could hear his friends shouting for him to
hurry up before they had to go inside.

Frankie had never seen Mr. Priester. None of his friends had
either. In fact, he didn't know anyone other than his folks who
had actually talked to the guy. But all the kids figured he had
to be old and creepy, and probably some kind of psycho since they
never saw him come out of his house.

Priester's house was made of dark bricks traced of black stones
around the windows and door frames. The door looked like it had
been painted a bunch of times. It was old enough to have a real
doorknocker. Frankie scratched his head trying to figure out what
the hell it was.

He heard his friends shouting for him to hurry up again, so he
took a chance and went for the knocker. But when he touched the
knocker, the door creaked open. Frankie almost choked on his
heart. Already he could feel his dick rubbing against his
underwear. Whenever the ten year old got nervous, his dick would
get harder than a brick. At the moment, he could have pushed the
door open with it.

Shaking, he pushed open the door, waiting for the creaking to
stop before slipping in. The house looked fairly new, like one of
those makeover shows on TV. He almost whistled when he saw all
the brand-new flat-screen TV Priester had in his front room. Down
to Frankie's right was a long hallway lit by the sun from one of
the high windows at the back. He walked down the hallway, seeing
a staircase just to his left.

On his right were a set of windows. From the outside, they always
looked dark, even when Priester had the light on. But from the
inside, Frankie could see a screen-like shade over them. He could
clearly see the fence outside.

Frankie started to go towards the end of the hallway when he
heard a noise. It sounded like it came from upstairs. He didn't
think his dick could ever get any harder, but it managed to. It
was practically bursting from his pants. He almost unzipped them
to let it hang out because it was beginning to hurt, but he
decided not to.

Figuring he'd already came into the Mr. Priester's house without
even knocking, Frankie thought, Just call the bastard, get the
ball, and get the hell outta here. He started thinking about how
all the kids would think he was so cool for going inside Mr.
Priester's house when his pussy friends just stood outside the
gate. So he headed up the stairs.

On the second floor there were tons of weird pictures on the
wall. They all looked really old, like things he'd see on the
History Channel. Every one of thing was a picture of someone
fucking someone else. At first Frankie felt really ashamed to be
looking, but he couldn't help it. As he walked down the hallway
his hand traveled to the rock hard bulge in his pants, and he
rubbed the tip gently.

Then he spotted an open door. He leaned in, pushing the door open
wider. Straight ahead was a pool of glass scattered all over a
desk with a gigantic computer monitor on it. The room was set up
as an office with tons of oddly named books all around, but
Frankie ignored them and went for the computer. When he pushed
the chair away, he saw that the ball had gone clean through the
glass. He didn't know he could hit that hard. He started to reach
in for the ball, but remembered seeing some guy get the shit
shocked out of him in a videogame that way, so he checked for the
cord and unplugged it first.

But when he went for the ball, he couldn't find it. It wasn't in
the monitor, or on the desk or floor, or anywhere in the room. On
the off chance it rolled out of the room, Frankie headed back to
the hallway and started looking around. He saw another door kind
of cracked next to the bathroom. His dick still harder than he'd
ever been before, Frankie made his way to the room.

Nervously, he poked his head in, and then stepped in completely.
He'd never seen any of the things in the room before. Some of it
looked like giant rubber versions of his dick, but others, like
the weird ball with the straps on it, the strips of leather
hanging from a long stick, the weird-looking handcuffs, and the
things that looked like his dad's jumper cables, had his mind
guessing what the hell Mr. Priester was up to.

"Looking for something?" a deep voice asked.

Frankie froze. His dick pressed so hard against his jeans that
the zipper moved down a bit. He turned his head slowly and looked
over his shoulder. There was Mr. Priester. Not some old creepy
man, but a rough-looking guy like those men in the black and
white movies Frankie's dad watched. Sporting only a bathrobe, Mr.
Priester sat down in one of the chairs next to the door.

"I guess you're looking for this," he said, pulling the ball out
of his pocket. "Nice hit. Put a hole through my window and my
monitor."

"Sorry," Frankie blurted out. He was so nervous that it took him
moment to notice Mr. Priester's eyes were on his crotch. At first
Frankie wanted to cover himself, but whenever he touched it, it
always stayed hard. So he just pretended like he didn't know that
Mr. Priester was looking. But Mr. Priester grinned cruelly, and
Frankie was glad he was too dark-skinned to be able to blush.

"C-can I have my ball back?" Frankie asked. Mr. Priester smiled
even wider, and suddenly a look came over his face that scared
Frankie to his bones.

"Sure," Mr. Priester said. He spread his legs, revealing a
monstrous set of balls and dick that curled around them, and
dropped the ball squared between his legs. With a flick of his
leg, Mr. Priester's dick fell onto the ball like a dick mohawk.
"Come and get it," he said.

But Frankie couldn't budge. He'd never seen a dick that huge in
his life. It looked almost as long as his arm, and almost as
thick, too. He didn't want to look, but he couldn't take his eyes
off it. He wanted the ball, but not if he had to touch that dick.
Already he could feel fear building up inside of it.

"Come and take it" Mr. Priester said, this time more sternly.
Frankie still didn't budge. "You want me to call your parents?"
Frankie could imagine the beating his dad would give him for
breaking the window and for going into someone's house without
permission and wandering around like a thief. Frankie shook his
head. "Then get over here and take this ball," Mr. Priester
ordered.

But Frankie still hesitated. Suddenly, Mr. Priester's face
contorted and his eyes looked like they sank to the back of his
head. Frankie could feel his bladder itching to let it all go.

"Get over here now!" Mr. Priester said. His voice sounded
completely different, like he'd been faking the other one, hiding
the darker, angrier voice until the right time.

Frankie was too scared to know what to do, so he went over and
reached for the ball. He almost had it in his hand when Mr.
Priester grabbed him by the arm and squeezed tightly.

"T-that hurts!" Frankie whimpered. But Mr. Priester ignored him
and stood up, pulling Frankie out of the room. The ball rolled
into the floor as Mr. Priester dragged Frankie, whimpering, into
his bedroom.

******

Mr. Priester's bedroom had no windows. Everything looked dark
blue or gray, and the only thing in there that made it look like
a bedroom was the bed. But the bed looked strange, too. It had
long poles at each corner, and there were holes at the top. All
around the room were more of the weird objects Frankie had seen
in the other room. But these were made of metal and looked like
they'd hurt like hell to have them on. Frankie couldn't help
himself, he started to cry.

Mr. Priester pushed Frankie to the floor and towered over him as
the boy scooted all the way against the bed.

"Stand up," Priester said. Frankie did it out of fear. Priester
glared down at him, but Frankie couldn't make out his eyes.
"What's that in your pants?" Frankie instinctively covered his
little tent, but Priester brushed Frankie's hands away with his
foot. "Take them off," he said.

Frankie looked up at Mr. Priester with tears streaming down his
face. "M-my dad said I'm not su—" Priester slapped Frankie hard
across the mouth.

"I don't give a shit what your dad said. I said take off your
pants."

"Bu—" Another slap belted Frankie in the mouth hard enough to
knock him down. He could taste blood on his tongue.

He took one more glance at Mr. Priester, and sobbing, undid his
pants and pulled him down.

"I said off, not down," Priester grunted. Frankie pushed his
shoes off and stepped out of his pants. He didn't wait for
Priester to hit him again. He slid off his boxers. His dick was
fully hard. The shiny brown head throbbed with each of Frankie's
sobs.

"Well, well. Did you use that to fuck up my window? Huh?"

"No," Frankie whimpered. Priester slapped him again. Frankie knew
what that one was for. His dad did it all the time. "No, sir."

Priester leaned over Frankie, and the boy shut his eyes waiting
for another blow. But they didn't stay shut long. Priester's
fingers wrapped around Frankie's dick. It tickled, especially
when Priester played with Frankie's sac. He squeezed the little
marbles gently, slipping his fingers around them so that he could
massage them with his knuckles.

Suddenly, Priester jerked down hard. Frankie yelped and tried to
push Priester's hands away, but the man's grip was too tight.
With another jerk, this time up, Priester had Frankie standing on
his toes. And all the while, Frankie's dick stayed hard.

Priester gave the boy's nuts a good twist, almost to so that they
were on the other side. Frankie screamed as loud as he could,
begging for Priester to stop. "I'm sorry!" Frankie sobbed. "It
ain't gonna happen again, I swear!"

But Priester didn't even flinch. His face scrunched into a
grimace and he hoisted Frankie up by his nuts onto the bed. When
he let go, Frankie's hands went for his sore balls. But Priester
had other plans.

"Take off your shirt," he ordered. Frankie pulled his shirt off
as fast as he could, but not fast enough. Just as Frankie got it
past his head, Priester grabbed his arms, and belted Frankie in
the chest. The boy went limp for a moment as Priester ripped his
shirt off.

Frankie lay on the bed buck naked, crying as hard as he could.
His balls still felt like they were in Priester's vice of a hand.
The man pulled a set of leather straps from the table of objects
and ordered Frankie to lie on his stomach. The boy rolled over,
and squealed as Priester tightened the strap around Frankie's
left arm, and then to the frame of the bed. He did the same to
Frankie's other arm and then his legs until the boy was
spread-eagle on the bed.

"You owe me for the window," Priester said. He pushed a red-ball
gag into Frankie's mouth. It was a tight fit, stretching
Frankie's mouth to its limit. The boy tried to beg, but it all
came out as muffles. A sudden sharp pain rose across his naked
ass. He screamed, only to receive another blow from the belt.
Just over his shoulder, Frankie could make out Priester and the
thick paddle-like belt in his hands before it struck his ass
again. It was one of the shaving belts he'd seen in the
barbershop.

"I've been watching you," Priester said, pelting Frankie again.
He had great aim, and had hit the same spot each time. Already
Frankie's brown ass was turning a nice, rosy red. Priester laid
it into Frankie, emphasizing each word with another blow. "You're
the hardheaded one. Always peeking into my yard. Always looking
for trouble. You hit that ball in here on purpose, didn't you?
Didn't you?"

Frankie was completely hysterical. No matter how hard he tried to
pull loose, he just couldn't get free. And every time he jerked,
Priester hit him harder. After another barrage of blows and more
"didn't you"s, Frankie finally shook his head yes.

"Thought so," Priester said. He brought his arm far up into the
air and planted as hard as he could right across Frankie's back.
The boy screamed and arched his back as much as he could. He was
sobbing so hard that he was beginning to drool.

"Well," Priester said as he looked at the line of dildos on the
table behind the bed. "Since you like breaking things, how about
I break that little cherry you got there?"

Frankie didn't have the slightest idea what Priester was talking
about. All he wanted was to get loose and go home. He closed his
eyes and tried to picture his friends still waiting outside for
him and their ball. But before he could think any further, he
felt Priester's hand on his dick again. This time, Priester
pulled what little foreskin Frankie had left over the head of his
dick, and clamp the foreskin closed. The metal teeth bit into
Frankie's skin, and he instinctively tried to push it off like he
was getting the last of his piss out. But that just made the
teeth dig in more.

Try as he might, no amount of rubbing his dick on the bed would
get the clamp off. And with his boner, it made it hurt more since
it wouldn't go away.

Then Priester lifted Frankie's right side and squeezed his nipple
brutally. He gave it a harsh twist, and before Frankie could
relax, Priester put clamp on it. He did the same to the other
side, and then patted Frankie's head. "We haven't even got
started," Priester said. "I'm going to pop that cherry of yours
with this." He held up a black dildo in front of Frankie. The
boy's eyes widen.

None of Frankie's murmurs and squeals could stop Priester. He
lubed the boy's ass up with vaseline, and with no hesitation
began to shove the dildo into Frankie's virgin ass.

Frankie felt like someone was pouring hot grease over his ass. He
yelled as loud as he could, begging and pleading, but it all came
out as murmurs. The pain crept all the way down to his toes, and
all he could do was bang his head into the pillow.

"I haven't even got the tip in," Priester said. He reveled in
Frankie's panicked screams. The boy was flailing around as much
as the straps would let him, but Priester continued to inch the
dildo in until it was half-way in. Then he stopped.

Frankie went limp except for the occasional shaking from his
sobs. Priester took a peek at the boy's face which was stained in
tears, and contorted into one of the cutest faces in pain he'd
ever seen.

Then he shoved the rest of the dildo in.

Frankie's head bolted up. He buried it in the pillow as Priester
slowly pulled the dildo out. He stopped just before the tip was
out, and shoved it all the way in. With each pass, he twisted it
just a little.

Frankie's sobs came as hiccups through the gag, and he was
completely out of tears. He begged as best he could, but Priester
was a pro, and worked is ass over with the dildo until Frankie's
sobs fell into soft grunts.

Then Priester pulled the dildo all the way out. For a moment,
Frankie thought he'd shove it back in, but that didn't happen. He
didn't feel the cool rubber, but instead Priester's rock hard
9-inch dick. The dildo, only an inch smaller, had paved the way
for it. Priester's dick was thicker than the dildo, so again pain
rode up Frankie's ass.

Priester didn't bother taking off his robe. He leaned over
Frankie with his arms by the boy's head, and got his knees right
under Frankie's legs, pulling them even tighter against the
straps.

"Now you're going to get it for my monitor. Damn, you're still
tight after all of that!" he said as he pushed all 9-inches in.
He started off slow, driving his dick all the way in until
Frankie's ass was on his hips, and then pulling all the way out
and forcing it back in. But once he got his rhythm, Priester tore
Frankie's ass to shreds. The boy moaned loudly, his dicker
getting harder and harder as Priester fucked him raw. The clamp
pulled at his Frankie's foreskin, but he could barely feel that
pain compared to the pounding his ass was taking.

Priester grabbed hold of Frankie's hair and tugged his hair back
like he was ride a horse. His grunts rose over Frankie's moans
until finally he shouted, digging his dick further into Frankie's
ass. The hot cum oozed out of Frankie's ass even as Priester
pulled his dick free.

Frankie sobbed quietly as cum leaked out of his raped hole.
Priester wiped his dick off on Frankie's leg. He head for the
door, but turned when he heard a sigh of relief from Frankie.

"Oh, we're not done," Priester said. "I've just got to get a few
things from the other room."