a sequel, about Bollocking Pedos, a cautionary tale
A sequel to part 2 Hanging Pedos from a Lamp Post by their Bollocks and part 1 Hanging Pedos by their Bollocks from a Lamp Post, part 4 will be Pedos Hangig from a Lamp Post by their Bollocks.
It's about (De) Bollocking Pedos basically, If you don't like the F word dont F'ing read it.
Any similarity to persons living or dead is unintentional but with such lifelike characters you probably know someone just like them.
I was lying in bed in Dusseldorf, after meeting with Dr Blick, Yes Me John Althwaite, the BNP local councillor from up north out in Germany in Dusseldorf, I had to pinch me self to make sure I wasn't dreaming, Me talking to Dr Blick about licensing them to use my name for reinforced Lamp posts what you can safely hang pedos from without them busting and hurting innocent passers by and it was about three in the morning when I had this thought, it just hit me, you know, like what if a Pedo wanted to be cured, why not roll his cock up around a spindle like the key on a spam can, and strap it to his belly with a tight belt? Maybe stick a tube through it first so he could take a piss.
Well it sounded good to me.
"Hey Dushka," I said excitedly, you see Dr Blick Germany's leading expert on curing Pedos with high voltage electric shocks had let us stay at his house, and lent me Dushka for the night,
slim dark haired Lithuanian, Dushka who didn't hardly speak a word of English but fucked like
a bunny rabbit
"Yes," she said in the darkness, "You want cock me again?"
"Right," I agreed and I forgot all about Pedos so it wasn't until a couple of days later when we was going through London and I saw all these queers wandering about that I remembered.
PC Tony Mulholland and Sgt Fforbes was with me, they was supposed to be escorting me but they was so shagged out after a night with one of Dushka's mates that I had to drag them on the IEE or whatever the kraut for Eurostar is and made sure they got back to England.
"Hey," I said, "Pedos right, why not wind their cocks up round a spindle, like the key on a spam can, like what if a Pedo wanted to be cured, why not roll his cock up around a spindle and strap it to his belly with a tight belt? Maybe stick a tube through it first so he could take a piss." I said.
"Hey slow down," Sgt Fforbes said.
"Good idea," said the white haired old lady sitting across from us, "Chop it off if that doesn't work."
"Wind their cocks up," I said.
"Look Johnno, you better think this through," Tony said, "You might have an idea there." he said, "Like a key with a slot, pull the cock through and wind it round, like the key on a spam can."
Bloody hell he was nicking my idea and improving it.
"Shit," I said, "That's it!"
"What are you on about?" Fforbes asked so we shut up and had an argument about Football instead.
I went round Al's place as soon as I got back, "Hey I had this idea." I said.
"That's all we fucking need," Al said, "Sandra thinks she needs an Iveco because she can't get up the duff."
"Don't you mean IVF?" I asked.
"Yeah whatever." he agreed, "You seen the telly."
"No," I said.
"You better fucking come in then," he says, "I saved it on video."
I went in, Sandra was sort of upside down against a wall resting on her shoulders, "She thinks it will help me spunk soak in," he says, "Dopy cow."
"You want a go Johnno," Sandra asked all sweet like.
"No, your all right," I replied.
"Here it is look, when you were in Germany."
The clip started, that news reader kicks off, "Bong, Outrage among Pedophiles," he said, "Government to investigate!" and there were these two middle aged pervert blokes hanging from lamp posts with their trousers off and meat hooks up their ass screaming their heads off, yelling "Get me down!".
"Bloody hell!" I said.
"Mr Oliver Moody senior engineer with Wetherfield Borough Council is concerned about health and safety," said the news reader.
"Aye, one of these perverts could fall and injure an innocent bystander," he said, "We could of course buy Allthwaite reinforced lamp posts but there are budgetry considerations." he added.
"Meanwhile on British rail," the newsreader continued, "There are reports of perverts being beaten up on the 11.26 Manchester to Brighton through service," and they show all these pervert types queueing up to get on a train, the shot changed to some crabby old bloke in an old black uniform that might have been Waffen SS but was probably Bitish Rail.
"Mr Hargreaves, what has the train company done to alleviate the vicious attacks on this service," the reporter asked.
"Put a class 25 on with a set of mark one cattle trucks I mean coaches instead of a voyager and took the fucking seats out so thy don't get blood on them" he explained, "If the perverts wants to sit they can get a broom handle from Tesco and shove it up their ass."
"Thank you Mr Hargreaves," The newsreader said, "We tried to get a comment from Tesco stores but they declined to comment," he explained.
"And we're giving free tickets to BNP members so they can check that only Pedos get beat up not decent folk." Hargreaves chipped in.
"Fucking hell Al, this is big!" I exclaimed.
"We started something mate," he said, "I flogged a thousand meat hooks on ebay when you was in Germany," he added.
"How much did you make?" I asked.
"Fucking lost more like when fucking Pay Pal had their cut." he said, "Bastards at Tesco got wise to me scrounging cardboard boxes to send them in and Sandra wants paying for boxing them up."
"Shit, should have left the business side to me," I insisted.
"Johnno, I need a fuck," Sandra pleaded, I nearly gave in but the thought that Al was there half an hour ago put me off.
"No your all right Sand," I said, "I got me a girlfriend."
"You sly bastard!" she said, "Bollocks!" which was a bit rich since she dumped me.
"You all right for Council tomorrow," Al asked.
"Far's I know," I agreed, "Why,"
"They're out to get you," he said, "This Pedo thing, seems the Homos are getting jittery they think they're next."
"Who the fuck told them?" I asked.
"They reckon you're Homophobic," he said.
"Me, fucking Homophobic, I ain't fucking Homophobic, I ain't afraid of a bunch of queers," I said, "What they going to do? Handbag me?"
"Just watch yourself, OK?" he said.
Council was a shambles, there must have been half the perverts in England hanging about outside the building, Police dogs, Police horses trampling people and shitting everywhere, what a shambles, but I wore me overalls and sneaked in round the back and they never recognised me.
The Council was boring, I slipped away to the bogs when they elected chairman and the Tory bloke got it.
"Why did you abstein?" an ageing blonde reporter asked me.
"Got offered ten grand didn't I?" I explained.
"Oh!" she gasped, "Why?"
"Well," I said, "Let me shag you and I'll tell you!"
"Ok, cloak room's best," she said, and she grabbed my hand and dragged me down corridor.
Turned out she had bad PMT and wanted a fuck, she never even asked about the ten grand, I suppose I should have used a rubber really but well, it's easy to be wise afterwards.
"What are your plans now, John?" she asked afterwards as she wiped her cunt with a rag I lent her.
"Johnno, I ent gone all poncy because I got me self elected." I said, "But I designed a Pedo Cure." I said, "See you shove a brass tube up their cock to piss through and then wind their cock up with a key like the one on a spam can."
"Oh," she said, "But what if the tube kinks? why not dig a hole in their crotch and poke the brass tube through that so they piss sitting down?"
"Right?" I said, "I never thought of that."
"It needs a woman's perspective," she said, "If they don't need to piss through it you could leave it rolled up till it rots off."
"That was the plan anyway!" I agreed.
"Good!" she said, "You hard again?" she asked.
"Uh, yes," I agreed.
"Good!" she agreed and next thing she was led against a pile of coats and she had grabbed my cock and pushed it in her.
We got spunk on the Chief Executives coat, he nearly went ballistic, but he calmed down when "Susan," the reporter kneed him in the bollocks and reminded him about "Blackpool."
I went down the internet cafe when I finished up with Susan, fucking emails coming out the fucking seams there were, half of them from Pedos threatening to do things to me, the rest wishing me luck.
One guy from Florida suggested using Pedos for live bait for Gator fishing and one guy from Cornwall explained how they planned to use Pedos for live bait for shark fishing and how they thought they would rip their bollocks off first to get some blood into the water.
Tenty seven people suggested using pedos instead of foxes for fox hunting and twenty six of them suggested ripping their bollocks off first.
One guy suggested Pedophillia could not be defined as Muslims sometimes married at 12 years, moron.
I filed the info away for later.
I had a letter from the Party leader when I got in. "Allthwaite you wanker, rot in hell Ok," it said, "No fucker wants to hear what I have to say its all about you and fucking Pedos."
"Get over it!" I replied, "Start figuring out what we do when we run out of Pedos because at this rate there won't be any left soon."
Sgt Fforbes came round Friday morning, "Well according to our records there's no Pedo's left in Lancashire." he said, "Not one!"
"Right," I said, "That's fucked my idea for a cure."
"Plenty more about down south," he said.
"Right," I agreed.
"City's playing Brighton and Hove Albion Saturday, away, they're running a special train or two,you should get a few lads down there sort that lot out."
"Right," I agreed and I forgot about it straight away.
Sgt Fforbes came round Sunday, he waited till after dinner, he knew all about me mother's cooking.
"Who's been a naughty boy then?" he asked.
"What?" I said, "I ain't done fuck all."
"You want to read the paper," he said and shoved a copy of the Sunday paper across the table.
"Outrage!" said the headline with a picture of three Pedos hanging from three lamp posts on the West Pier at Brighton, "Council workers refuse to remove dead Pedos without having preventative anti Pedophillia injections first."
"Let the fucking Gulls eat them," says prospective Brighton BNP candidate "Nutter" Henderson it added as a secondary story.
"Bloody hell!" I said.
"Right," he agreed.
"You ought to try that Pedocure you been boasting about." he said, "Don't forget my cut, oh and heres the name of a guy who can make your windup thing for a good price"
As soon as he was gone I went round to see Sandra.
"Ooooh Johnno!" she cooed, when I told her what Fforbes said, "Thats wonderful shall we move in together?"
"You're having Al's fucking kid!" I explained.
"I can get rid if you want?" she said, "Please Johnno you know I always loved you best."
"Sandra you're the sort of manipulating tart that gets tarts a bad name," I said as I felt her swelling belly, "But under the circumstances if you're offering yes I will have a free fuck."
"Half price?" she offered.
"Free till the kid comes?" I suggested.
"You always were a smooth talking bastard," she said and dropped her knickers there and then.
"Sandra!" her mum protested.
"It's only till kid comes!" she insisted.
"No you filthy girl, you can't fuck customers while I'm watching Oprah on TV." she snapped.
"Can you wait till Countdown comes on, she always falls asleep half way through." Sandra suggested.
We did it in kitchen instead in the end, but it wasn't the same, Dushka was far better at milking cock, and I realised I couldn't get her out of my mind.
We watched Telly after, "Nutter" Henderson was being interviewed, "What do you say to those who say you were responsible for all those Pedos moving away from Brighton?" he was asked.
"Well I some help, and I reckon most of em went to France," he said, "We're off down St Tropez on Eurostar Friday, sort them out a bit."
"What are your policies Johnno?" Sandra's mum asked, "Now all the Pedos are emigrating," she said and I didn't have any.
"I never thought beyond getting rid of Pedos," I admitted, "I just fancied nine grand a year for doing fuck all."
"You want to try for the European Parliament," Sandra's mum said, "It's more like ninety thousand pounds for doing fuck all."
"Ooohhh Johnno!" Sandra cooed, "We could rent a flat!"
"Look you're having Als kid," I reminded her, "Not mine."
"Shit!" she said, and she saw it mattered to me, "Maybe the next one could be yours?"
Tony Mulholland came round to see me, "Sgt Fforbes wants you down the psycho clinic at the Duchess of Cornwall Infirmary," he said referring to the brand new hospital up by the footie ground, "They got a couple or Pedos."
"Right," I agreed, "When."
"Now?" he said so we went round there, "Nice Motor," I said when I saw he had the Police Subaru Imprezza WRC outside.
"Man's car," he said, "Does one fifty on half throttle," he said as we set off down Wordsworth Avenue, "See?" he says and floors the throttle, "Look at that, ton already he says as he reached for the siren and blue light switch.
"It's a fucking twenty zone mate, watch that," I said and the breath was slammed out of me, "Speed bump."
He slowed down a bit and eventually after half an hour including some tyre smoking do-nuts and spins in the private clinic car park we arrived.
"Mr Allthwaite!" an elderly chap in a white smock greeted me, "Delighted to meet you, Dr Blick told me how impressed he was by you."
"Right, he uses my name on his reinforced lamp posts," I agreed.
"No the use of an ass hook, and your simple and elegant proposal for a cure." he beamed., "But come through."
He studied his chart, "This is Mr Scheist," he said as he introduced me to a bloke what looked like a scout master, "I always call patients Mr Scheist, German for shit you know," he added, "Serial offender," he added, "He volunteered to try your cure."
"You sure he's a Pedo?" I asked.
"Oh yes, show him a picture of an under 13 football team and he's like a rock in seconds." he added, "Ah Miss Hastings," he said and this blonde bombshell appeared, she must have been a DD chest wise, you know 44/24/34 fucking wow, "Do you have the tube?" he asked, "And photograph?"
"Yes!" she agreed, "Here," and she showed me a brass tube.
"Drop you pants Scheist," the doctor ordered, he did as ordered and even when Miss Hastings cupped his balls his tool still stopped curled up, "Show him the picture, it's the Manchester United under 13 squad," he added.
The guys tool swelled like a balloon being blown up, "See definately a Pedo, will you do the honours Miss Hastings?" he added.
I nwatched as she threaded the thin tube down the eye of his cock, his eyes watered but then she showed him the picture again and he managed to spunk off through the narrow tube, even I was impressed, it must have shot out about eight feet, (2.4 Metres)
"Comfortable?" the doctor asked.
"No!" says Scheist."
"Good says the doc and he fishes out a giant spam can key like I described with a cock size hole in the end. Miss Hastings quickly slipped it over his cock an started twisting, he screamed, real lovely like the guy what sings in the Insurance adverts.
"Nice and tight!" the doctor added, and the Pedo fainted.
He looked so funny with his cock rolled up, "Will he be all right?" I asked.
"Depends on whether the brass tube kinked, we'll see when he tries urination." he explained, I must have looked blank, "Tries to take a piss." he added.
"Right!" I agreed, "With you."
"Ten pints of John Smiths please Miss Hastings," the Doctor ordered.
"Steady on mate!" I says.
"For the Pedos Piss test," he added.
"Right!" I agreed, "Fucking waste of good beer."
"No it went out of date a month ago," he reassured me, "But come see our other patients," he said and we went out and he showed me round, "This is Evadne, she is waiting for her final operation," he explained.
The woman looked a bit odd, sillicon tits obviously, but wrong somehow, "He is due for castration, a complete penectomy," the doc said.
"Hey, we could do that to Pedos." I suggested.
"Castrate them under surgical conditions?" the doctor asked.
"No cut a slot and shove fake tits up their chests." I suggested, "So they look like this twat."
"It would improve the survival rate," he agreed.
"Bugger, just cut the slot then." I suggested, "See with fake tits and no cock they bwould stick out like a sore thumb."
"Doctor," the woman said, "I've changed my mind."
"What?" the doctor protested, "You can't have, you've been living as a woman for two years!"
"No, they'll think I'm a Pedophile!" he protested, "Maybe I could try being straight again?"
"Yeah get them fake tits took out, you look a right prat," I suggested, "Your hands are too big and your too ugly for a woman, you look like a freak!" I said kindly. Fuck knows why he started crying.
"Mr Allthwaite!" the doc said as he hustled me out of the room, "That poor man has been wrestling with his sexuality since he was fourteen."
"Fucked up the ass by a Pedo?" I asked.
"Why, yes actually," the doc admitted.
"That's the problem," I said, "He needs a few pints of ale and a season ticket to Trafford Park not fucking Psychiatric fucking bollocks, I'll send Sandra round when he's ready for a screw if you want."
"Mr Allthwaite, you don't understand!" he said, but I understood just fine, it was him had the problem.
"What's the problem?" I asked, "He paid up front, you don't lose out and you can charge extra for taking the tit implants out."
"Oh, well if you look at it in purely commercial terms," he said like there was any other way to treat perverts, "You have a point!"
He took me to another room, there was this butch lesbian sat up in bed, "This is Freda, now she is having gender reassignment from female to male."
"Don't blame you love," I said, "Christ are you fucking ugly."
"Shut your gob wanker!" she replied in a deep growling rasping voice.
"Yeah, I see what you mean," I agreed.
"So you approve Mr Allthwaite?" the doctor asked.
"Oh yes, sure," I agreed, so he showed me round the place, the swimming pool was fantastic, the whole length of the basement nearly, "Christ, that's a bit over the top!" I suggested.
"But I like a swim!" he laughed, "Look after number one Mr Allthwaite, that is my motto."
"And mine," I agreed.
"Then you will endorse my treatments?" he asked.
"Depends if that poor sod can take a piss." I pointed out.
"So, shall we have a Coffee, there are wonderful views of the Station from the staff room," the doctor suggested.
He was right, there was a bloody good view of the station, and we watched the trains and drank coffee for a bit until the doctor's phone went. "Seems like the brass tube kinked." he said.
The pedo was screaming, he was naked from the waist down with his belly all bloated with stale John Smiths, as he tried to straighten his cock out so he could take a leak but every time he tried he couldn't stick the pain, and screamed.
"Ahhhggghhh!" he wailed.
"Ah, now be still Mr Scheist," the doctor said quietly, "I shall relieve the pain, Nurse!" he shouted "Miss Hastings, the operating chamber please."
She helped the Pedo through the door to the room next door, I wondered about scrubbing up but the doctor said it didn't matter with Pedos, ad Miss Hastings let Scheist to a sort of womens birthing chair.
Scheist sat down and Miss Hastings strapped him in, "Right!" the doctor said as he wrenched the pedos feet apart and clicked a lever to sprag the ratchet, "A small incision," he said taking a Stanley knife that was lying on a bench and cutting the bloke's ball sac open, blood and stuff oozed out and then he cut summat and a great spurt of piss gushed out.
"That's better." the doctor exclaimed, "Is it not?" but the pedo had fainted. It didn't seem to take a minute for the doctor to drag the end of the pedo's piss tube through a hole behind his ball sac.
"Might as well chop his bollocks at same time," I suggested.
"Indeed, Miss Hastings," the doctor called as he nicked off the pedo's bollocks and chucked them in a saucer, "Finish up would you please?" and he put down the knife and said, "Have you seen enough Mr Allthwaite, will you recommend us?"
"Oh yes, specially the last treatment, bollock em and roll the cock up until it rots off, ideal." I agreed.
"What about the titty implants?" Miss Hastings asked.
"Right, yeah why not." I added, "And make sure you give them the separate piss hole so they piss sat down."
"Exactly," he said, "What I have in mind is for bollocking as you call it and breast implants to be considered as a suitable punishment for pedophiles, an alternative to prison."
"Cheaper," I agreed, "But what about me reinforced lamp post business?"
"But they can still be hung from a hook up their anus." I must have looked blank because he added "Ass hole, they could still swing from a hook up their ass hole."
"Right!" I agreed, "And wear striped Pyjamas like in concentration camps."
"Perhaps, I am a Doctor not a politician." he said.
"I'll get onto fatso straight away," I said, and when he looked confused I said, "Our leader the fat bastard."
"Oh yes," he beamed.
"When I've had a shag." I added.
To be continied as Pedos Hanging by their bollocks from a lamp post.