The Municipal Pedo Farm

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The Municipal Pedo Farm

“Tha mus be Councillor Allthwaite,” the man in the flat cap greeted us as we arrived at the Weatherfield Workhouse, “Come on in Councillor, warm thee sen by t’fire.”

“You always talk like some fucking left over from eighteen sixty?” I asked as I went in.

“Not always,” he said, “I like to keep in character,” he explauned, “So you’re Councillors Allthwaite and Armitage, you sound like a dodgy comedy duo,” he joked, or tried to, “You want to check the Pedo unit?”

“Yeah, whats this about healthy eating?” I asked, “Council minutes page 236 of 2015, McDonalds Chicken McNuggets” and I flashed the page under his snout.

“Misprint,” he said, “Mike Donalds, Chicken Muck Nuggets, look I’ll get the file.”

“Isn’t all this on computer?” Al asked.

“Oh no, hard copy only here at Weatherfield Workhouse,” he said, “It’s the real Victorian experience,” he paused, “I’m Mike McDonald by the way.”

“Right,” I agreed, “Well I heard the Pedos just sit around all day.”

“Absolutely,” he said, “We do a quick induction and leave them to it.”

“But the audit report says you only got twenty two left out of the hundred and fifty that was sent here,” Al reminded him.”

“They escaped, look I’ll show you round,” he said, “You’ll need to sign in and it’ll take about twenty minutes, we’ve just had a delivery, a grade B pedo and a woman pedo surprisingly.”

“Right,” I says, “They ought to send them round schools for biology lessons and make them show the boys their cunts and shove dildos up them and rampant rabbits and make them cum in front of the while class,” I said.

“Yes,” he agreed, “That’s what council agreed.”

“Didn’t you realise Johnno?” Al asked, “It was unanimous.”

“Bit of a blur really,” I admitted, “Last few meetings.”

“Anyway the Pedo is a class 2B, for Boy, and he’s in reception.” Mike says, “Shall we?”

“You a trained syco?” Al asks, “Dealing with these nutters.”

“No, I worked at the steel works,” Mike said, “Mechanical engineer BSC thats British steel company, so come and see my babies!” he led us through the brand new brick built Victorian design building, and he led us down a flight of stairs, “What do you think of that?” he asked as he opened the door to the boiler room.

“It’s a boiler?” Al said.

“It’s a Babcock and Wilcox number twelve built in eighteen ninety six converted to gas or wood chip firing!” he said his eyes gleaming.

“Right,” I agreed.

“It provides steam to the machine shop on the top floor.” he added.

“Right, whats wrong with electric?” I asked.

“Too easy!” he said, “And quick!”

Mike wandered off to adjust something, “Christ Johnno, we got a right nutter here!” Al whispered.

“I’ve set it for the machine shop, so the central heating works off waste steam instead of the main feed.” Mike said as if it meant something.

“Right,” I said, “These missing pedos?”

“Yes,” Mike agreed and he took us upstairs, a bored looking fucker aged about a hundred and two was watching a smartly dressed middle aged pedo and a frumpy looking woman as they waited patiently.

“Christ Johnno,” Al said, “Look!”

I looked, I never seen a pedo with PEDO written in black paint across his forehead before, or the crotch of his trousers ripped out so you could see he had a cock clamp on.

“Fuck!” I said.

“Yeah, you know when we got pissed up and sent that letter to old Milly Bug the Prime Minister?” Al says, “Looks like it’s law now.”

The pedo had a six inch hole in his trousers showing his nice shiny new cock clamp, a u bolt around the base of his shaft, a second round his balls and two parallel rods with a guide which held the centre rod which went right down inside his cock so he couldn’t even piss without a written request.

“Have you signed in?” Mike asked, they nodded, “Aids test?”

“Negative Mr McDonald,” the old codger groaned, “We had them tested for everything we could think of.”

“Right, Edirne Escort get some Aids virus and get him infected, and you Mrs Slaithwaite?” Mike asked.

“It’s Susan” she said. “I was such a fool,”

“It’s all right love,” Mike said, “Just drop your knickers and hop up on the bench.”

“I say!” the Pedo said and then screamed as he moved and the cock clamp nearly ripped his cock off.

“No!” the woman protested. She was about twenty six, big tits, bit ugly really you don’t look atb the face with tits like that, you know, the sort of bint that looks ok after twelve pints of Stella Artois.

“I don’t have much experience of this,” Mike said apologetically as he looked round, “Where’s the box of restraints Mr Rawtenstall?” he asked.

“Under the bench Mr McDonald,” the old codger announced and he pointed a crooked finger in vaguely the right direction.

Mike dragged a cardboard box out, “Look sorry about this,” he said as he found a well used dog collar and leash and some duct tape.

“Behave like a bitch get treated like a bitch,” Mike advised as he advanced on Mrs Slaithwaite, “Now hold still,” he said and he slipped the dog collar around her neck and then made her bend forward so he could tape her hands behind her back.

“Stand up,” he ordered and when she did he ripped her skirt and her knickers down, “When I say show your cunt show your cunt. all right?” he said and spoiled it by asking us, “Was that all right?”

“Good,” Al agreed, “Better let her get used to folk seeing her cunt like.”

“Yes, yes,” Mike agreed, and asked “Where’s the lube?”

“With rubbers,” the old codger reminded him.

“Ah,” Mike agreed and he fished out a smaller box and chucked me and Al a three pack of Durex each “Just in case,” and stuffed a bottle of lube and a load of condoms in his back pocket.

“Right, lead on pedo,” Mike said.

“My name is Aggghhhh!” the pedo squealed as Mike kicked him in the balls.

“It’s Pedo, Mr Fucking Pedo!” Mike corrected him, “Now lead on!”

Mike had to kick Susan’s panties off her shoe for her before she could walk and she looked half shaggable in her dark hold up stockings and freshly shaved cunt as we troped up three flights of stairs.

“Right this is the machine shop,” Mike said, “Boulton and Watt patent steam hammer,” he said proudly, “See, watch!” he said as he placed an egg from a box beside the hammer frame under the hammerhead, the crnkshaft revolved and the hammer head lifted and came down oh so slowly until the egg shell just fractured slightly, “So controllable, feel it.”

“No ta.” Al said, I shook me head.

“Susan, put your hand under,” Mike ordered.

“No!” she wailed.

“It’s behind her back,” I pointed out.

“Pedo, you do it,” Mike ordered and he eased the hammer back a tiny fraction.

“No!” The Pedo refused then screamed as Mike kicked his ball clamp again, “Ok!” he said an he placed his hand under the hammer head.

Mike tweaked the controls and the hammer head lifted about a foot and dropped, clang! suddenly the pedos hand was s floppy mass of blood and bone about the size of a regular pizza, the Pedo passed out so Mike stuck the pedo’s other hand under and smashed that before he smashed both the Pedo’s wrists.

“Oh it all makes work for the working man to do,” Mike sang happily, “If you would give me a hand gentlemen, get him on the hospital trolley.”

“He can fucking die!” I said, “I ain’t taking him to no hospital!” I said.

“No, it’s so we can get his feet under the hammer,” Mike replied as if it was obvious.

It didn’t take a minute, in fact Mike just let the machine run, clang clang clang, as he pulverised the Pedos feet toes and ankles one by one, he almost seemed sorry to run out of joints to smash.

“Right, lets push the trolley round to next door,” Mike suggested.

Next door was a fully equipped Victorian Dentists room, with a tiny steam egine and belt driven miniature drills,

“Sit him Edirne Escort Bayan down,” Mike said and me and Al maneuvered him into place as he flopped around unconscious like.

The chair had a headrest with side clamps to hold the head tight so Mike tightened the clamps good and tight, the Pedo stirred as Mike shoved a metal clamp in his gob and winched his gob open, he peered in.

“Some decay, Mr Pedophile, it comes from leering at kiddies,” Mike suggested, “But I’ll soon sort that.”

“Oo hud hentist?” the pedo asked.

“Lord no!” Mike replied and he fetched a heavy iron cylinder which he attached to the dentists chair before adjusting it so the extension rod just brushed against one of the pedo’s front teeth.

“I’ll just fit the guide and then we can sort the decay out!” Mike said as he fitted a cast iron shoe against the pedo’s top front teeth, “All set,” he asked.

We all looked round confused so Mike opened the steam valve, “It needs new piston rings I’m afraid,” he said as despite a bad steam leak ping, ping, ping the pedos teeth started breaking.

I felt sick.

“All done!” Mike said as the shoe suddenly slipped and jammed itself in the back of the pedo’s throat, me I would have let him choke to death but I’m soft compared to Mike.

“And the bottom.” he said resetting the shoe.

“Is that how the Victorians did it?” Al asked.

“No, East German secret police,” he laughed, “It’s my own design, like it?”

“Crikey,” I said.

“Just leaves two each side at the back to drill out,” he said as he applied steam and the lower teeth started pinging and snapping.

The Pedo was completely comatose and ever even woke as Mike drilled out the remaining back teeth with a 1/4 inch drill in a worn out 1906 shaft and belt drive Myford steam drill, the grinding and screeching out my teeth on edge and Susan looked horrified.

“Right,” Mike said, “Next!”

“No Susan wailed but we chucked the Pedo on the floor and manhandled Susan into the chair, slippeing her hands down behind the backrest.

This time instead of the steam tools Mike slewed the chair around a quarter turn and so it lined up with foot stirrups like pregnant women have for check ups and she couldn’t stop Mike strapping her in and winding her knees wide apart with a steam operated screw arrangement.

He peered at her cunt, “Too dry,” he said and he shoved most of a bottle of lube up her before he dropped his pants and dragged on a Durex, “Excuse me a moment.” he said and he rammed his cock up her and humped her about three times before he pulled out, tossed the durex in a bin wiped his tool and zippered up.

I stared.

“You can’t leave me like this!” Susan wailed so Mike undid her blouse and popped her tits out of her bra.

“Better?” he asked.

“Oh please!” she said.

I looked at Al, “No you’re all right,” I said, so Al rubbered up and climbed aboard and started humping like a demented rabbit..

“Give me a hand would you,” Mike said as he dragged out his penis again so he could piss over the pedos head to wake him up, “Wakey wakey!

The Pedo stirred, “Time to play, nearly,” Mike said as he picked up a pair of steam powered scissors and to the pedos horror started to cut his clothes off until just the cock clamp was left.

“I always fit a hollow brass piss tube,” Mike explained as he pulled the centre rod releasing a solid rod of yellow piss and cum, “Then I can forget about the cunts,” he said as he shoved the hollow brass tube down the eye of the pedo’s cock.

“Just the safety stuff now,” Mike said and he found some rusty chain which went round the pedo’s neck in a loop and down his back, next Mike wrenched the pedo’s cock clamp back through his legs and attached it to a screwed adjuster on the chain and then tightened it until the pedo’s caged cock was jammed firmly up against his ass hole.

“Nearly done,” he said as he took the blow lamp and heated the P-E-D-O brand before placing it slightly Escort Edirne off centre and twisted on the pedo’s forehead with a satisfying sizzling like bacon frying and quite a similar smell to bacon burning left the pedo branded for the remaining few days of his life.

Finally he played the blow lamp over the pedo’s balls and crotch to burn off his pubic hair and then burned off his head hair as well, at least most of it.

“Right, job well done.” Mike said.

“What about the feet and hands?” Al asked as he returned from screwing Susan.

“Damn!” Mike said,”I forgot,” and he found some bags for them, scrunched up the bones and that into a fist shape and slapped some fibreglass matting over before he taped them up with gaffer tape, he did the same with the feet.

“Sod it thirty two minutes, I usually manage two an hour.” Mike said.

“Talking,” I said.

“Probably, will you help me push him down the trash chute to the exercise yard please?” Mike asked.

There was this half height door and a chute that went down a bit and an eight foot drop to this exercise yard where about twenty pedos lay in the mud dying.

“Jees!” I said as the pedo plummeted the last bit, “How the fuck do they escape?”

“Pine box,” Mike said, “They play dead and get sent home.”

“So they escape?” Al asked.

“Oh yes.” Mike said.

“Alive?” I asked.

“Oh Lord no!” Mike said, “We keep their heads as evidence, would you like to see?”

I nearly threw up, but Al pipes up, “Yeah, why not!”

“No!” I said, “So there the exercise yard, fifty yards square?”

“Yes,” Mike agreed.

“And?” I asked.

“A television in one corner and a shower and toilet facilities for each Pedo.” he said/

“Shower?” I asked.

“Portable, a member of staff will piss on them, and they can shit where ever they want.” he said.

“What about cells?” Al asked, “Where do they sleep?”

“Oh we don’t lock them up,” Mike laughed, “The exercise facility is available twenty four seven.”

“And when it rains,” I asked, “Or snows?”

“They get wet or freeze to death I suppose, most die of starvation, they can’t chew the batter off the chicken muck nuggets with smashed hands and no teeth and their water supply comes from the urinal in the council offices so usually after a fortnight to a month they die of starvation, but of course some get gangrene inn their smashed hands, and the whole yard is rancid with their shit and piss, ” Mike said, “Is there anything else you would like to see?”

“Yeah, one of these in every town in England!” Al said wistfully.

“So these Nuggets?” I said.

“Fried chicken shit in batter,” he said, “I had this idea when I was checking out a menu Chicken McNuggets it said, get it?”

“Your fucking sense of humour is worse than Al’s” I told him, “But it does explain why Auditors couldn’t figure why they were so cheap.”

“Right,” Mike said.

“I reckon we should make a move,” I said.

“But you haven’t fucked Susan yet?” Mike says.

“Sorry,” I said, “Not my type.”

“Not gay are you?” Mike queried, “Only anything with a cunt and a pulse is my type.”

“Come to think of it,” I said, “I got a bit of a horn coming on.”

“Her’s not a bad fuck really,” Al said approvingly.

“Look, are you sure the government said I have to have sex with you?” she asked.

“Oh no!” Mike said, “You can give the mens facility a go if you want, we call it the Pedo Farm.”

“I never thought of woman Pedos,” I said as I unzipped and pulled me rubber on, “I wouldn’t have wanted to hang you from a lamp post.”

“She ain’t got no balls to hang her from!” Al laughed as she waddled across and I slipped her a length as she leaned against the wall.

“So,” Al says, “If you don’t use the cells for pedos.”

“We let them out for storage,” Mike said, “And we do guided tours.”

“Do you?” Al asked.

“No actually,” Mike admitted, “Would you risk being shown round a high risk jail by a half wit in a flat cap we a Lanky accent?” he asked going into his lanky accent himself.

“What do you think Johnno?” Al asked.

“I reckon she fucks like a dream,” I said, “Ohhhh fuck!”

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