The Sting

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A back room at Weatherfireld Police Station in the North west of England.

A buxom thirty something Woman Police Constable answers the telephone to an unsuspecting pervert.

"Hello is that Pedo Supplies," he said anxiously.

"Yes," said WPC Sharon Masters, "Can I help you sir?"

"Do you do pictures?" he asked, "And videos?"

"Yes sir, I'm Sharon, what sort would you like only I'm only fourteen and I'm not sure if I'm allowed to sell pictures of little girls," she said, "Usually I talk to gentlemen and tell them my pussy is all lonely without a big fat juicy cock in it."

"I'm afraid I'm into little boys really," the Pedo continued, "Pre pubescent really eight or nine, do you have any videos of little boys being fucked by animals."

"Oh yes sir, lots sir, little boys with big cocks in their asses and mouths and animals, dogs and horses sir, all fucking them really hard, I like being fucked up the ass by a big hairy Rotweiller sir, do you?"

"Burrrrrpppppp," went the phone as the Pedo rang off, "Did you get his number?" Inspector Richard Head of the Weatherfield and Salford Constabulary asked.

"Yes," PC Tony Mulholland answered, "It's a mobile."

"Bollocks," the Inspector said, "Don't be so full on Sharon, he's a Pedo, he won't like being fucked up the ass by a dog will he?"

"He might sir!" Sharon protested, "What am I supposed to say?"

"String him along, say you have a brother or something, ten years old," Inspector Head added.

"If I must sir," Sharon said petulantly and the phone rang again.

"Herro, rat Pedo Splies?" said this Chinese fellow.

"Yes," Sharon agreed, "I'm Sharon and I'm fourteen and I'm all horny and I have three fingers thrust deep in my soaking pussy,"

"You do deep pan Pedos?" the Chinese asked.

"No, this is a Pedophile chat line you slitty eyed moron!" Sharon explained politely.

"I have two, one Tomarro and one,"

"Burrrrrrppppp," went the phone as Sharon cut him off.

"Ohhhhh!" she squealed in frustration, and the phone rang again, the one on the right of her desk.

"Hello, I'm Sharon and I'm fourteen and I am really horny and I've taken all my clothes off and I'm lying in my bed dreaming of you and wanking myself with three fingers deep inside my sopping pussy."

"Is that Weatherfield Police?" the man asked.

"Sorry, no, Pedo Supplies, ah, Weatherfield Pedo supplies," Sharon explained, "Police is Nine Nine Nine not Oh Triple Seven," she said, "Fuck he's rung off."

"Wrong phone," Tony observed, "That was the Police emergency number."

"y hell!" Sharon snapped, "I didn't join the force to chat up Pedophiles," she insisted.

"Oh well never mind," I said as I watched the control room team, "I guess I'll wait down the Dog and Duck unless your 'sopping hole' needs attention eh Sharon?"

"I'd take you up on that if we didn't have and audience!" Sharon replied, "Oops," she says, duty calls, "Good Evening, Pedo Supplies, the North West's premier supplier of Pedophile supplies, how may I help you?"

"Oh, I wanted a twenty seven by one and a quarter inner tube," this guy asked, "Do I have the wrong number?"

"I'm afraid so sir, this is Pedophile supplies," Sharon explained.

"Oh," he said, "But doesn't Pedophile mean Pedalling?" he asked, "Don't you have pictures of Chris Hoy or Vicky Pendelton."

"No sir just little boys and girls being d," Sharon added in exasperation.

"Oh, sorry," he said and rang off.

"Wanker," Sharon snapped and the phone rang again, "Weatherfield Pedo supplies," she said "How may I help you?"

"You're fucking disgusting!" the voice boomed over the speaker phone, "You should be hung from a Lamp Post by your gonads!"

"I don't have gonads sir," Sandra continued, "But we do have a full range of Pedophile and Dog sex videos in VHS and Betamax formats, as well as CD's and downloads."

"Oh," says the bloke, "That's sick!" and puts the phone down.

"Get his number," I says, "Could be a handy bloke to have round."

"Sounds about eighty," Sandra explained, "Poor sod."

The phone rang again, "y hell Allthwaite," Inspector Head interjected, "Your advert on Cbay certainly hit the spot."

"y place is crawling with Pedos," I explained.

We could hear Sandra on the speaker, "Yes sir, I'm wearing my school uniform but I took my tie off and undid my bra because my big titties are so heavy sir, and my bra straps cut into my shoulders, I want your warm hands on my big titties holding them sir," Sandra explained.

"Uh, what colour knickers are you wearing," the pedo asked.

"Polka dot sir, but they were all sticky so I put them on the radiator to dry sir," she added.

"Oh," he said, "Do you have a little brother?"

"Oh yes sir, but he's shy," Sharon said, "But I have a video of him for twenty pounds sir."

"Doing what?" the Pedo asked.

"This is a fucking sting operation not a fucking pedo chat line," Inspector Head interjected.

"Fucking me with his little cock," Sandra replied.

"Oh," he said, "Oh, I like the little ones who can't get it up, sorry," he said and he put the phone down.

"Mobile," Tony confirmed.

"Someone take over I need the bathroom!" Sharon insisted looking flustered.

"Jenkins," Inspector Head shouted.

"Oh fuck it," Sharon insisted and she threw down the headset and rushed from the room.

"You all right," I asked.

"No!" she said as she rushed away.

Jenkins slid his fat belly into the chair Sandra just vacated as the phone rang again.

"Pedo Line, PC Ivor Jenkins speaking," he said as he picked the phone up.

"Brruuuuup," went the phone as the pedo rang off.

"You total moron!" Inspector Head screeched, "For gods sake man this is a pedo line sting!"

"Sorry sir," said Jenkins in his Welsh lisp, "I forgot, automatic it is see."

He had barely apologised when the phone rang again, "Hello, Jenkins year," he said, that's Welsh for 'Jenkins here.'

"Is that Pedo Supplies of Weatherfield," the chap said, "The cycling specialist?"

"Indeed it is sir, bikes, tarts, prostitutes you name it we got it," Jenkins said earnestly, "We got dog sex, die porn and my favourite sheep, there's nothing quite like a nice warm wooly."

"Burrrrrrp," went the phone as the punter rang off.

"Jesus Christ Jenkins!" Inspector Head snapped, "Forget the Sheep!"

"But was all the rage at Pontypridd," he said, "Never had any Pedos, sheep shagging that was the thing."

The phone rang again, "Pedo supplies." Jenkins announced sounding bored, "Yes sir we have a wide range of videos."

"Speaker man!" Inspector Head ordered and Jenkins switched the speaker on so we could all hear.

"Seven year olds." Jenkins agreed, "Oh yes indeed, would that be with old men or animals?"

"Put it on the speaker," Inspector Head repeated.

"Dogs, Rotweillers, Alsations, and Sheep is very popular." Jenkins added, "Danny and Sammy is very popular sir, "Danny is the little boy," he said, "Sammy's the sheep, That's fifty six pounds, will you pay credit card or cash on delivery."



"Eighty Two did you say?" he asked, "Right oh sir, within the hour!" he said and banged the phone down, "Got the bastard!"

"I should y well hope so," Inspector Head answered, "Turn the speaker on so we can all hear!"

There was a couple of minutes until the phone rang again, "Hello," Jenkins answered.

"Is that the Pedo Club," the man asked.

"Oh yes," Jenkins agreed, "How can we help?"

"Have you got actual boys and girls?" he asked.

"Oh yes indeed, got a room full, and sheep," Jenkins replied.

"Oh, I really wanted a little boy," the Pedo explained.

"How little?" Jenkins asked.

"Oh, little," the Pedo replied.

"Well see, there's little and little, now we talking balls dropped or not?" Jenkins asked.

"I don't know," the Pedo said, "It's all very exciting."

"Well it's not cheap," Jenkins said, "Thomas wants two thousand pounds a night."

"Oh lord, I usually give them a bag of sweeties," the Pedo replied.

"Well this is a professional operation, discretion guaranteed, we got a video of Thomas with Rex his Labrador, playing."

"Playing?" the Pedo queried.

"Playing," Jenkins said, "Castlemain,"

"What?" the Pedo queried.

"Four X not triple!" Jenkins said, "Have you pumping spunk like a fire engine it will, only fifty nine pounds ninety nine pee."

"Oh," said the Pedo

"Plus Vat," Jenkins said, "And a tenner for delivery."

"Well," said the Pedo.

"We got a buy one get one free on Fridays," Jenkins added helpfully.

"For christ's sake!" I protested, "That's not in the fucking script!"

"No only one, not buy four get two free," Jenkins said, "No you have to order twice," he added, "Right give us the credit card details and I'll send him round on his bike."

"Fucking hell," I said, "The pillock's giving his name and address.

"Remarkably stupid you average sexual pervert," Inspector Head suggested with a big grin, "I take back all I said about your crazy scheme Mr Allthwaite," he laughed, "Just imagine the look in his face when Jenkins turns up instead of a little boy!"

"Told you," I said, "Christ we'll need more cells!"

"Ooh," Sharon said as she returned from the bogs looking flushed, "Sorry sir, got carried away,"

"Oh right," Inspector Head, agreed, "Take over from Jenkins will you he's obsessed with sheep."

Sharon took the headset from Jenkins, "Weatherfield Pedo Supplies," she said, "Yes sir, everything for the discerning Pedophile," she paused, "Barbed wire sir, I don't know, I'll have to ask, did you say blue sir?"

"Put him on the y speaker phone!" Head insisted.

"I'm afraid we don't have blue sir, but we have a special offer on Handcuffs?" Sandra said eagerly, "I don't think we can deliver to Leeds sir," she added.

"Of course we fucking can!" Inspector Head insisted, "Jesus wept!"

"I'll have to ask Mr Head," Sandra asked and paused, "Perhaps tomorrow?"

"Turn the y speaker phone on," Inspector Head insisted.

"Hello, Weatherfield Pedo Supplies," Sandra answered as the phone rang again.

"You the pervert suppliers," this bloke asks.

"Yes sir," she replied.

"I want your fucking list of fucking customers," a familiar voice asked.

"I'm afraid I am not at liberty to divulge that information sir," Sharon insisted.

"Sounds like big Len from Toddy," I said, "Tell him to piss off."

"Would you like it as a straight email of attached as a pdf?" Sharon asked.

"Are you the plod?" Len asks.

"Yes," Sharon agrees, "Now piss off and let the professionals deal with it."

"Professionals," Len chortled, "Fucking amateurs, we string the cunts up by their bollocks and all you cunts do is get the cunts cofuckingmmunity service,"

"Good day sir," Sharon says and slams the phone down.

"Should have got his email," Inspector Head suggested.

"I got it somewhere," I said, "Fat Len at,"

"Don't bother," he said, "We are after Pedos remember."

"We got sheep videos," Jenkins' voice suddenly bellowed out through the speaker phone, "You want big cocks in little assholes volume two the shagging?" he queried, "Not about Sheep is it?"

We never heard the incoming, "Right," he said, "It's more money, being small boys, ninety quid they go for, but I'll knock a bit off for you vicar, being as your having three choirboy outfits in soft latex s well, sheepskin rugs are very popular," he said, "Access, that will do nicely!"

"Well, it's about time we raided a few of these perverts," Inspector Head suggested, "Where's young Mulholland?"

"Down the Dog and Duck?" I queried.

"Or the Red Lion," Sharon suggested, "It's strippers night but I couldn't swap me shift.

"Give Forbsie a buzz on the dog," I suggested, "Them two stick together like couple of moths with spunk on their wings," They looked at me like I was talking bollocks, "Dog," I says, "Dog and Bone, phone."

A smile of recognition and a quick radio message and Forbsie and Tony was on their way.

"Speed is of the essence," Inspector Head insisted.

"Best take the Subaru," I said.

"But they aren't qualified Police Drivers!" Head says.

"Tony did a track day at Oulton Park," I reminded them, forgetting to add he wrote off his Uncle's Triumph Acclaim in the process as he was totally pissed at the time.

"Better take the Subaru," he said and we got some tins of Four X and some pork pies in case we got peckish and piled in the Subaru, me and Head in the back, Tony driving.

Tony really booted the throttle and got us going nicely, ninety in a Subaru feels like eighty in an ordinary car over sleeping policeman humps in pedestrian areas and we put some lovely s marks on that light coloured stone by the tram tracks and then we on the M62 and heading for Leeds at a ton thirty, scaring the shit out of HGV drivers by overtaking on the hard shoulder.

"Where to?" he asked after ten minutes or so and we realised we didn't have a fucking clue where we was off to.

Of course it didn't have a Sat Nav to save weight, yeah, when Forbsie was the best part of tenty stone and Head not far behind and they worried about a sat nav."

"Turn Round." Inspector Head ordered.

Tony caned the brakes and the mad bastard did a U ie and headed back the way we come, West bound on the Eastbound carriageway the wrong way up the fucking hard shoulder of the M62 at a ton ten and there's no fucking hard shoulder under half the bridges.

"No!" Head cried but Tony had it sorted with another U'ie, up the off ramp across the roundabout and down tother side the wrong way again so he did a new U'ie and we was heading back where we come, fastest thing on the road except a black Suzuki what overtook and a bloke on a Ducati what was slipstreaming us.

The Pedo was an anticlimax, sad little sod what just dreamed of dies not your real hands on Pedo, sad cunt, "Oh have you brought my videos?" he asked, I ask you, Tony and Forbsie was in fucking plod uniform and he thinks they are fucking couriers! so we just cautioned him and smacked him up a bit to sort of remind him he mustn't be a bad boy when he looked in the mirror at his busted nose and the gaps where his teeth used to be.

"So how do you like your new job?" Inspector Head asked me.

"Fucking hard work," I said, "Being Police Commissioner, fucking difficult finding the time to spend all me money what with thirteen thousand for doing fuck all on the council and now ninety grand for sorting you cunts out."

"You said your priorities were Pedophiles and Prostitution," the Inspector said, "Have you any ideas what to do about prostitution?"

"One or two," I says, "Careers advice, see of a girls pug ugly it's no good her going on the game, yet if she's gorgeous what the fuck is the point in going to university and doing Law for seven ears as she can make more on an hour on her back than she ever will a lawyer?"

"I don't know about that Johnno," Tony said, "They see's you coming mate!"

"They comes running when I flash the cash," I said, "But I been out meeting the girls and listening."

"And fucking," Tony adds.

"Well, can't be rude," I says, and I looks out and fuck me if there wasn't a pair of queers holding hands.

I nearly chucked me teatime Vindaloo up, "Fuck!" I says.

"Not illegal Johnno," Tony says.

"Not fucking yet, come the revolution!" I says and they starts singing "The Red Flag," I ask you three uniformed cunts hammering through a thirty at sixty five in a scooby with the blues going and fucking singing.

I stuck in a bit of harmony like you do.

We stopped for a kebab and a piss on the way back to town, I sort of checked on a couple of local prossies and told them there was fuck all chance of putting patio heaters in bus shelters even if they did promise to vote for me, which pissed them right off.

Sandra was still on the phones when we got back, Jenkins had a list of fourteen suspects what was interested in sheep, which bugged me, like you fucking the bastards when you get a bit peckish and yet the cunts does their nut when you fucks them, I don't see a problem, you want to fuck ass I'd much rather you fucked a sheep that fucked my ass or my mates's ass if you get my drift, first thing the Welsh will do when they get home rule is make sheep shagging legal you mark my words.

We hadn't been back long before beat plod started bringing in our Pedos, stuffed into Transit vans they was a sorry looking bunch, "I really must protest." one says right out, "Do you know who I am?"

"Fucking Pin Okio," Sgt Grant who was on custody duty says, "Judging by your lies."

"I am chairman of the bench!" he said.

"Ought to be nailed to a bench by your cock!" I says.

"Oh very droll!" he sneers.

"You won't fucking think that when the fat bastard gets in number ten," I said, "Cheaper and safer than hanging you cunts from lampposts," I said firmly, "Saves having to clean up those shitty ass hooks as well."

Next thing they was having a pow wow, "Oh Adrian is my sisters boy," one said, "Such a wonderfully soft anus," he added.

"Johnno!" Tony warned, "Not in front of witnesses mate get the cunts in solitary first."

"Right, have they screwed hooks in the ceiling?" I asked.

"Oh yes," Tony agreed, "Yes nice and firm, twenty stone easy," he said, "Works well."

The Pedo line was getting quieter when we went back to the ops room, Sharon was on a break, Jenkins was extolling the virtues of sheep shagging to anyone who would listen and I saw it was nearly six and getting light.

I had a couple of tins of four X and went looking for a prossie only to find they all fucked off home, I was between birds shall we say, and so I sneaked in the back alley and into our house through the back.

Mom left me some cold chicken and some cider so I had a bite to eat an went down the outside privvy with a copy of the TV times, and somehow got spunk all over the page with Pippa Middleton on.

I wouldn't mind except I thought it was Vicky Pendleton.

Anyone got her number?

Maybe buy her a Porsche so she can pack the push biking in and concentrate in looking gorgeous.

No fuck it, what would she want with a simple bloke like me what hates Pedos and does the right thing by stringing them up by their bollocks.

No, keep it real that's what the fat bastard says, though, come party conference maybe it will me leading is to victory, probably call me the thin cunt.

Not that I care, I only does it for the money, and the satisfaction of a job well done.

This website is for sale. If you're interested, contact us. Email ID: [email protected]. Starting price: $2,000