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A sequel to Pedo Cure It's about (De) Bollocking Pedos basically, If you don't like the F word don't F'ing read it. This is a work of fiction so any actions by any character are fictitious though perhaps regretable that such actions have not taken place and any similarity to persons living or dead is unintentional but with such life-like characters you probably know someone just like them. =================================================== 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 smoke." 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 Whetherfield 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 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 these pervert types in a queue 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 forty year old class 25 diesel on with a set of fifty year old mark one 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 speak to a representative 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 got advance orders for a thousand meat hooks on ebay when you was in smoke," he added, "Lads at prison workshop is knocking them out as quick as but as its sort of on the side its a slow old job.".

"How much will you make?" I asked. "Fucking lose 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.

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"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.

Sgt Fforbes came round Friday morning, "Well according to our records there's no Pedo's left in Whetherfield." he said, "Not one." "How do you know?" I asked. "Social Media!" Fforbes said, it turned out he had this online troll sort of bloke who was on these pedo pervert forums, "Right," I said, "That's fucked my idea for a cure." "Plenty more about down south," Fforbes said meaningfully.

"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, "That's wonderful will you be on Telly again? 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.

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We did it in kitchen instead in the end, but it wasn't the same, Hayley 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 next day, "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, my colleague Dr Blick told me how impressed he was by you ideas and suggested we should meet." "Right, what, doing fuck all for nine thousand quid a year," I asked. "No the spam can key 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.

It was, the whole squad in their home colours, just an ordinary photo from the local paper, nothing even remotely kinky. The guys tool swelled like a balloon being blown up, "See definately a Pedo, will you do the honours Miss Hastings?" he added.

I watched 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.

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"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 would 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.

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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.

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"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.

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"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.

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"Indeed," he agreed "First things first." "Your secretary up for it?" I asked. "No, but I do have a few contacts," he admitted, "Have you tried Lola?" "That's me bird!" I insisted but it was some other bitch when I rang and anyway she was only around the corner so it was all right, I don't reckon we was at it more than ten minutes so she only charged me twenty quid as long as I signed her visitor's book.

I hadn't been home more than a couple of hours when the phone rang, "Is that Allthwaite?" this posh git asks.

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"John Althwaite Councillor and Pedo Slayer at your service squire," I says, "What can I do you for?" "Touch awkward this Allthwaite, strictest confidence do you see?" he says.

"So who are you?" I asks. "Ah, need to know old boy, strictest confidence don't you know." he says, "Thing is cost." he says, "Shouldn't be an issue do you see but it costs an absolute fortune." "What does?" I asks "Why locking up Pedophiles of course," he said, "We locked up seven last week." "Right the Bunglas," I says.

"What?" he says. "Deshies," I adds. "I have no idea what you are blathering on about," he says. "Whoof whoofs," I says "Bungler Dessies and Afgans." "Right," he says, "Yes I see, you see," he said, "We cannot afford it Mr Althwaite." "No," I said, "When a twenty quid ass hook gets the job done once and for all." "Exactly!" he says "Can I leave it in your capable hands?" he said. "Well, I need some expenses," I said, "And an alibi?" "No need to worry about that Allthwaite, ammendment to the criminal justice bill comes up on Thursday." "Right," I says, "I'll wait until Thursday." "No, look ideally we would like you to sit in on the Central Lancashire Criminal court and identify the perpetrators," he says like he thought I was going to do what he said, "Then when they are found inexplicably 'Not Guilty,' you will know who they are and indeed their home addresses.

I went round the courts next morning, Al came as well because he wanted to help out and we sat in the public gallery with some of the Pedo's family. "He is good men," this bint with what looked like a bin liner in her head with a grille in it said, "He keeps all his wives well." "So why's he go out pedoing?" I asked.

She shrugged hopelessly. "You got sexy eyes," I said, "I bet you bang like a good un!" "He is my sister!" she said getting it slightly wrong. "What do you reckon," I says trying to be friendly, "Couple of pints, curry back to yours?" "But you are the Allthwaite, the famous racist!" she protested. "I am not stupid enough to let that stop me getting a leg over!" I insists.

"Ok but we get a hotel room," she tried calling my bluff. "You're on, how's about diner time?" I asked.

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"No I have prayers," she said. "Do it doggy while you pray?" I suggested. "You are a filthy pervert!" she exclaimed, "I never try this before!" "Is that a no?" I asks. "No," she says, and whispers, "That is a yes!" "See you later!" I says and I slipped across to the other side of the court.

Al was sat there looking all pissed off, "Here Johnno," he says, "I don't fancy this ass hook." "Well I ain't expecting you to take it up your jacksy." I says "No, but, you know," he says, "Bumming the pedo with an arse dildo, it ain't right." "No worse than lasooing his cock?" I says.

"Don't fancy it." he says but by then the Bunglas was on their way in, what a bunch of cretins, smarmy gits one and all, looked like butter wouldn't melt. I got me phone out and recorded when the usher bloke read their names and addesses and I got pictures as well then I listened while the prosecution outlined the case, except when I had to go out because I felt sick, I wanted to get a machine gun and mow the lot of them down. I was listening to them on about blow jobs when it hit me, if an expanding cock could ram spikes up their ass why not their gob?

"Oi Al," I says "How about shoving the ass spike in their gob instead?" He turned to me, smiles and starts a high five, "Need to be bigger, their head might come off." "Fucking bonus!" I said, "Shift the body and leave the skull hanging from the Lamp post." "You better get the order changed quick sharp," Al says, "I reckon you cracked it!"

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