The Trial by abroadsword
Dive into 'The Trial' by abroadsword, an enticing erotic sex story that explores desire, passion, and thrilling encounters. Uncover the intricacies of lust and power dynamics in this captivating narrative that will ignite your imagination. Perfect for readers seeking steamy romance and bold adventures!<br/>
Johnny is unjustly accused and screws the prosecution , The Trial
An excerpt from the legend of Johnno Allthwaite.
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“Order in court!” the Clerk to the Court ordered, “This is a serious matter.”
“Bloody farce mate,” I said, “If you ask me.”
“No one asked you Mr Allthwaite,” the Clerk continued.
“That’s Councillor Allthwaite to you mate,” I says, “I been elected proper, not like you lot what just happened to go to the right school and that.”
The Clerk started looking a bit nervous as one of the skinheads in the front row started handing out tinnies of Stella to help the mood along.
“I say,” said the Judge, “We really cannot have people drinking Alcohol in court.”
“Why you want one?” I asked, “Or will you stick to the Gin in your water glass.”
“Gin thank you!” he replied with the faintest of a smile, “If you could settle down Ladies and Gentlemen.”
“Get on with it!” Big Norman the six foot seven, twenty stone bouncer from the ‘Flying Horse,’ shouted.
I looked down from the witness box and grinned.
“Why are we waiting!” old Esmond the welsh git from Mafeking Street started singing to the tune of “Oh come all ye Faithful,” and the skinheads joined in “Why are we fuck-ing wait-ing,”
“Clear the Court!” the Clerk shouted, “Security!”
“They fucked off ages ago,” I told him but Harry and Dave what usually checked the punters for knives and that was in their civvies at the back with the rest of the lads.
“Call the Police!” the Clerk pleaded.
“They couldn’t spare no one,” I said and I winked at PC Tony Mulholland who was sat in the forth row sharing a joke with a blonde skinhead bloke with Manchester Untied tattooed on his arm.
“Settle down Mr Clerk,” the Judge pleaded, “It is manifestly clear that if you try to have the Court cleared you will be first to leave and in all probability through the window, which I remind you is a third floor window.”
“Yes your honour,” he agreed.
“Now Mr Weasley, do you have any sensible questions for the defendant?” the Judge asked the prosecutor who was sweating furiously now.
The Jury was looking a bit sheepish by this time, the old biddy in the grey suit clearly fancied me while the school teachery one with the DD tits all constricted in a sports bra was struggling with her conscience, probably a Lesbo.
“And whose idea was it to shove a red hot curved iron spike up the victim’s anus and out of his penis,” he asked.
“Can’t remember squire,” I said, “We was down the Flying Horse trying to figure what to do about all these pedos when someone had a brain wave.”
“Can’t remember, how convenient!” he sneered.
“You try fucking remembering after twelve pints of Stella (Artois)” I replied, “Anyway it weren’t as if we patented it!”
“And are we to believe you took no pleasure from this?” he asked.
“Yeah, course I fucking did,” I told him, “The warm glow of satisfaction from a job well done!” That got a laugh.
“Mr Weasley?” the Judge interjected, “Am I to understand that you claim an Iron bar was inserted in the victim’s anus and out of his penis, only the photographs clearly show a rope.”
“Ah, both your honour.” the prosecutor suggested.
“Very odd,” the Judge admitted, “Please continue.”
The prosecutor cleared his throat, “And you cannot remember who had this, and I quote, ‘wonderful,’ idea.”
“Nope,” I admitted, “It was supposed to be a red hot Iron bar but it takes a fucking long time to heat up with a gas blow lamp.”
“And you don’t deny you forced a sharpened curved red hot iron bar up the victim’s anus?” he asked.
“No, well it wasn’t red hot, not properly,” I admitted.
“Then the case is proved!” Mr Weasley insisted.
“Mr Weasley, the charge is that Mr Allthwaite,” the Judge paused, “I am sorry, Councillor Allthwaite, inserted a rope in the victims anus without his consent,” he paused again, “Did you believe Mr Allthwaite that you had the victims consent?”
“Well,” I said, “When I said do you want the Allthwaite pedocure or your head kicked in he chose the pedocure.”
“Then Mr Weasley, would you please direct your questions to the matter of consent,” the Judge requested.
“Consent to having a red hot iron up his anus, my Lord.?” the prosecutor asked.
“Indeed Mr Weasley,” the Judge agreed, “Some gentlemen do freely consent to being anally penetrated you know.”
“But not with an iron bar my Lord!” Weasley suggested.
“Get on with it!” Big Norman insisted.
“Indeed Mr Weasley, get on with it.” the Judge insisted.
“Ah,” the prosecutor replied, “The Allthwaite Pedo-cure.”
“A rope in their ass and out their cock,” I said, “That’s the bit I want patented to stop some cunt nicking my idea.”
“I was going to ask that,” the prosecutor suggested, “If you would let me finish!”
“Look,” I said, “You shoves a curved Iron rod up and round see and when it looks like it’s gone down their cock skin,”
There was this crumping sound and the prosecutor’s assistant keeled over.
“Order in court!” the Clerk insisted.
“Get up!” Weasley hissed.
“Mr Chambers,” Weasley’s other assistant a Miss Daventry said urgently, “Mr Chambers!”
“Order!” the Clerk said again but Big Norman was on his way across.
“Wakey wakey!” he said as he smashed his size thirteen steel toe cap boot into Chambers’ nose.
“Whup?” Chambers protested, as he woke with a start and wiped the blood from his freshly broken nose “Who buzzed my node!”
“So stay a fucking wake,” Norman says, and he turns to the judge, “You can carry on now squire.”
“Yes, thank you,” the Judge says all polite like, as Norman goes back to his seat, “Mr Weasley?”
“Ah,”Weasley asked, “Is their a first aider, for my assistant?”
“Fucking get on with it,” Norman insists.
“Yes Mr Weasley, if your assistant needs medical attention I suggest he goes to Casualty,” the Judge suggested.
“Yes, of course, now Mr Allthwaite.” Weasley says.
“Fucking Councillor how many fucking more times,” I replied.
“The matter of consent,” Weasley continued, “Do you really expect the court to believe any rational human being would consent to having a piece of red hot iron inserted into their Anus?”
“No but he’s a fucking pedo,” I pointed out, “What’s fucking rational about that.”
“You fucking tell them Johnno!” someone shouted from the packed public seats.
“That the victim is an alleged Pedophile is irrelevant,” Weasley whined.
“No it fucking ent!” I said, “I was fucking elected on a promise to hang fucking pedos from lamp posts by their fucking bollocks,” I said, “Fucking elected democratically and that’s what I’m fucking doing!”
The whole chamber erupted in cheering, you could see the Clerks gob opening and shutting but no sound was coming out that I could hear.
“But it must be agony!” Weasley suggested.
“Same as homos but they still does it,” I explained reasonably.
“The generic question is irrelevant Mr Weasley,” the Judge interjected, “Keep to the specifics of you don’t mind.”
“Yes your honour,” Weasley says.
“You can call the victim later,” the Judge reminded him.
“Look,” I says, “If you got a good sharp point on and the point is good and hot and you knows what your doing it’s no big deal,” and Chambers faints again.