The sad and sorry tale of Johnny Dickson

Dr. Svetlana Johansen & JP Murphy
The harrowing true story of Ireland’s first male sex slave.

No unauthorised reproduction

Copyright protected 1998 – 2006 US Library Protected / EU Law protected . Infringements will be prosecuted.

The novel is also available in pdf format at this external website

Foreword

I was for over twenty years a medical doctor working in Ireland , during the 1970`s and 1980`s. During that time I came across a patient who’s personal story was so extraordinary as to beggar belief. Treating this patient over a number of years , and developing a relationship of trust with this patient (whom I have referred to as patient “x”) I was eventually asked to assist this patient in putting his story to paper . Going against best practise in Medicine , and concerned about the Ethical situation regarding a Doctor revealing secrets learned within the confines of patient confidentiality , I was persuaded by my former patient that only I could help him tell his story properly.

I duly assisted in helping my former patient tell his story. Though a largely uneducated man, Patient “x” had a an oral way with words that I tried to capture as best I could when writing the story that I have published here. I hope that you will enjoy this extraordinary story. A percentage of the profits from this novel will go to charities for homeless men. I cannot thank the writer enough for the tireless efforts that he put into telling this story on behalf of “Johnny X”
Dr. Svetlana Johansen

CHAPTER 1

I was fast approaching my nineteenth year when it dawned on me that most of the conversations that I had with my oldman were little more than yanderings. That's the name they gave to talking nonsense where I come from. What other folk in the Emerald Isle referred to as talking shitte. Talking shitte was the art of droning on and on. About nothing in particular - and at the same time everything in general. My oulfellar was a great man for talking shitte. Yanders rolled off his tongue by the bucket full.
Yandering on and on he would be. Yandering from one end of the day to the other. Having said that, it was the cheapest form of entertainment where I came from. We lived in an inhospitable mountain region. A place where life was always hard, and more often than not near impossible. Though the oulfellar had been born and reared in that place he had barely a good word to say about it. So it was that he would regularly advise me on the subject of escaping from the hard and harsh Rock. The solid lump of a mountain that we called home technically fell short of official classification as a mountain by some seven feet according to the experts. We didn’t split hairs over such a technical detail around where I came from. It was near enough a mountain for us.

Mountain or no mountain, the suggestion was for ever in the air that the rock was a place best gotten away from. And the sooner the better was the advice we got from all and sundry as we were being weaned. London or New York were good choices to be getting away to by all accounts. I was getting on to be leaving school that year and it was high time that I mapped out future for myself. I was already behind my peers having been held back a few years. There was a few suggested around the homestead that I was none too bright. That wasn’t true said my mother. I was just a slow developer. I knew I was growing up and my schooling coming to an end when one thee oulfellar suggested that I should head away to the West for my future. He uttered immortal words that were scolded upon my soul "Go West young man" , says he to me. His words were spoken with a guttural sincerity that left a great impact on me. The advice to take a direction was a new trend. Before this I was usually only advised of a specific location.

The mother was from around those parts as well, and she was a fair woman herself for the Yandering. The mother’s favourite topic was about the need for a good education. That was her way of offering me a chance of a life as far away from the hard oul rock. Alternatively she'd warn us what a waste of time th`oul telly was. This lecture was usually delivered in the middle of some movie meself and the oulfellar would be stuck into. More often than not some brand of an American Western. The mother would suggest that we could have some time praying together as a family if we weren't more interested in watching telly. She would try all sorts of different tacks to get us to pray. The priest had her ruined. The most dramatic and persuasive excuse she used was to call us to prayer by stirring the patriotic streak in us-suggesting that not offering up your souls for salvation was tantamount to treason. She would remind us that the world was about to be overrun with dirty red commie bastards. Commie bastards that'd already closed the franchise for the one true God to whole parts of the world. Parts of the world that had already fallen to Satan’s Communist philosophy. She had particular affection for the place she called "D'Eeastern Europe. Cut off from the rest of Christendom. Swallowed by a curtain made of Iron she would tell us.
It kept me awake nights wondering how a curtain could keep the Communist whoremongers away from Gods special little Island. Only a curtain between us and the devil the mother would say. Even made of iron it was not likely to be of much use when the Russian troops rolled across the fields of Germany. On their way to take Paris and London. No doubt the communists also had their eyes on Dublin, thriving capital of God fearing Ireland that it was.

It was little enough we really worried about world affairs back on the rock. Life was hard. The days were long. All we were good for at the end of a day was a wee rest with our feet to the fire. The wee rest at the end of the day was however spoiled on regular occasionsby intense pressure from the mother to say a prayer or twenty. However, even with the pressure to pray the warmth of the open fire was a top option to wandering cold and wet in the dead of night across the barren land that was our farm.On occasions when were had to go up the hill of an evening for some job or emergency at some point on the walk up the mountain the oulfellar would stop in his tracks , pull at the peak of his cloth-cap and light up a woodbine cigarette. He would talk man to man with me at such moments. Generally he would advise me on escaping the life that he had ened up with.London or New York were often suggested as good choices. To be getting away to that was. One such late night journey up the mountain the oulfellar suggested that I should head away to the West. He spoke words that were for ever etched on my soul. Indeed it would be truer to say that they were scolded upon my soul. "Go West young man," says he to me. His words were spoken with a guttural sincerity that left a great impact on me. The advice to take a direction was a new trend. Before this I was usually only advice of a specific location to escape to.
I had to try and piece this new information into my limited knowledge of the world beyond the harsh rock. Were London or New York in the West? I guessed not. The father would surely have mentioned either of these places by name if that was the case. That only left the Village of Bally-Do-Natin. I knew that place to be to the West of our homestead. I also knew it to be a Godforsaken good for nothing spot. For months after I was convinced that my father didn't love me because he wanted to see me living among the hated enemies of the next village over. Bally-Do-Natin indeed. I was well put out. My oulfellar was advising his own flesh and blood to live in a place that drew little but negative reaction. And pass remarkable commentary. We were a superior lot. My people had done well in the time they had clung to the unyielding mountain. The rock had provided our clans with an existence of sorts for many generations. The same success could not be said of the people of Bally-do-Natin. They were a bunch of losers. Even in the ignorance of my early youth I knew that I could never be going to Bally-do-natin to make my way in the world. Surely my oul fellar must mean the next village over again? A livelier townland than Bally-Do-Natin. Went by the Name of Gan-daoine. From the Gaelic name meaning the "place without people". That it was a town without people was true to a point. There were four pubs and a population of near twenty souls during the day. But at night, when villagers returned from their jobs all over the county and the pubs were in full flow with customers the population temporarily swelled to many hundreds. Apart from that, the town was also noted for regular faction fights. All in all , there was little enough that would encourage a body to be moving there. Drunk and violent -that’s what they were!

All that town had achieved with its past was mostly a reputation for holding wakes. The proliferation of pubs in the village made it ideal for wakes after a funeral - as the funeral party could move from one pub to another (if they got too rowdy or violent in one ) another would surely be happy to have their business, no matter how disruptive they were.
Dying was big business in Ireland. Life may well have been miserable on the emerald isle, but death was something worth waiting for. Even the most miserable bastard put aside enough savings to ensure that all and sundry had a good night of it when they were counting down their last spiritual moments with the living. On the Gods Special little Island we called that a wake. A wake was a social event where friends, neighbours, creditors and enemies got to say goodbye or good riddance.Or both.Those owed money in particular got the opportunity to put pressure on the distressed widow to cough up a few bob. All this entertainment was paid for by the money the deceased worked hard for while alive. A good wake would get a body remembered for a generation or more.
Some notorious wakes were remembered centuries later. One was still being talked about a thousand years later. The deceased in question had been the high king of Tara and his castle burnt to the ground when waking festivities got out of hand. Events like that we called history in Ireland. The wake allowed a social re-balancing in death that never occurred in life. The biggest bastards were the ones with the best wakes. Surviving offspring of complete bastards were usually well aware that to manage the wrath of the community towards the surviving family a generous lashing out of good drink and fine food was a way to create a feeling of goodwill and bonhomie for elements that felt hard done by in life. While the dead slept the long sleep in the next room a lifetimes worth of enemies gathered for a last bitching session - knowing that the dead were in no position to retaliate. In the mentality of the Gael, getting a free drink from a fellow (dead or alive) was a successful ploy of one-up-man-ship. All the better if the fucker was dead. The wake was an event that required no invitation, and was a much-prized knees up at another's expense. The tradition of waking, the oulfellar used to say, captured the reality of a single life that had offended some and befriended others. He was a sage old dude when he wanted to be.
The wake was a chance for the family to make sure that the every whinger and begrudger had the chance to feel that they had gotten even with the deceased. We are a funny bunch where I come from. By the end of a wake those who felt put down and insulted in life by the bereaved would go away happy. Happy in the knowledge that they had gotten a few free drinks and a bite to eat off the dead bastard. This allowed them at least to forgive, if not forget .
But I digress dear reader. The main problem for me back then was still the central question of where I was to escape to. I would just have to hope that sooner or later it would all make sense to me. This was the state of affairs until Miss Maloney, my geography teacher accidentally put a name to the direction where I was sure that my future lay. One day Miss Maloney was trying to drill compass point directions in to our feeble minds. I discovered something that forced me to rethink my very existence up to that point in time. Gandaoine was according to Miss Malaney due East. Not due West as my father had suggested.I had been told that I was not the brightest flower in the in the field often enough. That was why I was some two year s older than all my peers in school having been held back not just one , but twice. However, even I could not understand how I had been so badly dupe dby my own family? I checked and re-checked my calculations according to Miss Maloneys information. I could come to no other conclusion. West was really East as I knew it. I had been led to see the world through the unscholarly mind of my simple peasant father. And me the scholar now knew better. At least I could confirm to myself that I was not as think as all and sundry had made me out to be. But for y own father to deceive me that I could not understand. Or forvive. The world as I knew it was backwards. If only I had been able to read maps earlier I would have saved myself a lot of trouble. The new way of looking at the world added a dimension of thinking to my plans. Neither Bally-do-natin or Gandaoine would be the place of my future emigration, of that I now was sure. I had to rethink my plans. To start all over again. I restudied the geography books late at night to find where exactly I was, if not where it was that I was to be going. It was important to know these things.
In the course of my further investigations into the mapping issues I finally figured out the answer. I discovered that the British military had drawn up the maps. They had mapped the country from one end to the other to keep the rebellious Irish downtrodden. Perhaps Miss Maloney had been wrong I suspected in the light of my new finding. And my father was right. The map was a deceit designed to make everything backwards to confuse the paddies I suspected.That renewed my faith in my father - though on the downside it meant that my destinations for emigration were again looking increasingly like Bally-do-natin or Gandaoin. There was no doubting in my mind that the Brits had altered the map, of this I was sure. The Brits had us well figured out indeed, for the ignorant and constantly downtrodden Gael would always be heading in the wrong direction with rebellion in his heart and a Pike upon his shoulder. Few back in those days knew much about the lie of the land beyond their own doorsteps and farmsteads. In the fundamental all knowingness of my teenage years I knew that I had the answer. The answer of the puzzle of where the West lay. The place of my destiny.
The more I worked on my conspiracy theory, the more appalled I was at what I found. I was of course anxious to both share and sound out my thesis. The older and apparently wiser generation around me were singularly incapable of understanding my theory . When I put out feelers to test my theory against their ancient well of knowledge, they looked at me like I was cracked altogether. They looked at me as if I was totally demented when I went a little further and warned them that we were defending our state with maps that were totally incorrect. Most just dismissed my theory as farcical and frivolous. Downright bloody stupid many held short of saying. Some even went as far as to suggest to my face that I was completely bloody mad. One or two gave me a boot on the arse when summarily ejecting me from their homes. I began to think that I would have to put this through the more enlightened intellects in the district as the old wans were clearly not up to the task.
I duly prepared my findings to put forward my theories to my class and Miss Maloney. Miss Maloney was considered a hive of intellectual ability in our district. She would surely be a better testing ground for my ideas than the bogsoaked crowd that I had tried to impress back around the homestead. I decided to deliver my findings the next day. I knew there would be tough cross-examination. I suspected that this thing would go all the way to the top, and that it was only a matter of time before the Minister for Defence was involved. No doubt the Prime Minister would quickly get to hear of what was going on too. The PM would need to alert the relatively Irish army about the deception that had been put into the map of Ireland by the British Army. They would need to reconsider our national defence in light of my discovery. I wondered how could the entire Republic have trotted along a good five odd decades since the foundation of the state using the wrong map? Perhaps I was smarter than I thought? Maybe I was some brand of a genius even.
In Geography class the day before the Christmas holidays Miss Maloney started to yander on as usual."Now boys, Drumlins" she began, letting the word hang in the air to create excitement at the prospect of what we were going to learn.
"Boys, open your books to page 23. You’ll a map of what appears to be a whole group of islands in the middle of a bay called Clew bay. These are Drumlins. The cluster of Drumlins are a feature associated with our extensively Glaciated landscape in Ireland. Now if you all will look at the map in the book" Miss Maloney began. I decided the moment had come to share my special knowledge with lesser mortals, raising my hand to attract their attention I prepared to make my case.
"Dickson, what is it?” asked Miss Maloney. There was no going back now.
"The map Miss."
"What about it?"
"Its wrong" I blurted out, proud as punch.
"What is wrong with it Dickson?" Says she with a distinct attitude.
"The directions Miss."
"What about the directions?”
" The map is all wrong. All the compass points are the wrong way around". I delivered my body blow to her fountain of knowledge. I sat back and waited for the reaction as her whole world of intellectual stability crumbled. I knew at this point that I had her attention and indeed the attention of the whole class. With the growing political and military tension in the North of Ireland it was no laughing matter. The Brits had obviously duped paddy yet again. But this time the next generation was on the case. We wouldn't make the mistakes of our forebears. I was so lost in self admiration that I didn't notice the whole of the class was waiting for me to continue dispensing my words of wisdom.
"It's the Brits Miss."
"What about the Brits Dickson ?"
"Well, they designed the map of Ireland miss "
"Its may surprise you to know that the British Army, for all the ill they visited on the world left many of their former colonies with a legacy of excellent mapping. This is a well-established fact. Why is it that you feel we you need to share such a well worn gem of information with us Dickson?"
"For the good of the country," I responded in a blast of patriotic fervour.
"Yesss Dickson ...I'm waiting.... explain yourself if you will," encouraged Miss Maloney. I knew the way she said those words that she thought I was going to deliver more nonsense in her eyes. Secretly I knew the smile would be on the other side of her face just as soon as I had delivered the results of my findings.
"Well Miss, the Brits designed the map the wrong way around to confuse the thick paddy."
"Holy mother of sweet Jaysus" she blasphemed. “How did you come up with that heap of Shiite for thinking Dickson?" She had some gob on her for the blaspheming. “Sweet mother of mercy, I have heard some rubbish in my time , but this one sounds like its going to be the capstone dumb commentary to crown all the other unadulterated rubbish I've heard in twenty odd years of Teaching.” Miss Maloney often spoke to us like that. She could be a right rude cow. I was still confident at this point that I had something worth saying and was all the more determined to prove what I had discovered.
"This had better be good, really good Dickson " she threatened , "Because if your taking the piss I guarantee you that you'll be in detention till your old enough to collect the pension, she warned obviously part interested to hear what I had to say. I was not going to be put out by oul big mouth herself. I suspected that she was just jealous because she didn't have the Smarts to figure out what was going on herself. I got down to the central point of my business and proceeded to present the argument to the rest of my classmates.
"Well, the maps wrong Miss, my father told me Gandaoine is over to the West of our house and I looked on the map and saw it in fact to the East".
"And - your point is?” asked Miss.
"Well can't you see miss? The Brits last act of deceit before they left us to the error of our ways was to fool us with the wrong-way-round map. This explained the succession of failed rebellion attempts by the Irish. Our lads were always at a disadvantage because they never knew whether they were coming or going. I continued to present my case as best as I could, fully aware that the future of the Nation could well depend upon my success. “Well Miss," says I, " The British army put the directions on the map wrong way around when they left to make sure that we were running around like headless chickens. They think we’re all really stupid Miss, that's what my uncle says. Thick paddies he says they call us, so they put all the maps backward to make sure that we'd never be able find our way over to England and attack them."
At this point I took a deep breath and waited for the depth of my words to sink in - and of course, the waves of admiration to wash over me. The force I felt Impact upon me was unexpected. For all her demure appearance Miss Maloney packed a mean right hook. The impact of her right fist somewhere between my ear and forehead was as surprising as it was shocking. I could not for a moment understand the reason for her attitude. Surely she had just misunderstood the magnitude of my words. I had expected some resistance to this new idea.I prepared to elaborate my theory for a second time.
"But Miss, you don't understand," I protested. By this time the rest of the class were sitting in muted silence awaiting someone to take a lead in their own reaction. Miss Maloney made their decision for them by lashing out at me a second time and forever cementing in the eyes of the rest of the class the suggestion that I had presented anything but an entirely stupid thesis. The rabid mob took their cue and burst into a fit of derisory and mocking cackles. "Did it ever occur to you that your Father may not be much of an expert on mapping?" she asked. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I had to admit that she may indeed have had a point. She was not letting up and took the opportunity deliver a little lecture of her own. "Some of the greatest minds of the last century went into making these maps, so why in the name of God do you presume your oulfellar would know better?” Exactly about the same moment I realised that the oul fellar had never actually stated where he thought the West to be and that I had of my own volition come up with the theory.
I was gobsmacked.How stupid I had been. I knew at that moment that I could never live out my years in the community of my birth, and that the sooner I could get away from it the better. However, I’d certainly want to do a bit more work on my understanding of Geography if I was ever to have any hope of getting away for good from that place from whence I came. I resolved there and then to make amends for my fundamental misunderstanding of geography and I duly went home to swot up on Drumlins and any other brand of a glacial feature that might impress Miss Maloney when next we had a class. I was now likely to be marked as a total bloody gobshitte. People were looking at me a little funny. Laughing behind my back. And worse, I was still no better off in knowing where the West lay.
Regardless of having made a complete bloody fool of myself again I decided to tentatively question the oulfellar about the statement he often made about "Going West". This time rather than appear a total idiot by asking him out straight where the West was I'd try and slip in the subject at a moment when he was relaxing. When he was in looking at the telly I thought best. He was having none of it though as I tried to broach the question he sunk deep into his armchair to watch the telly late in the evening. Finally we found a late night film we could both agree on. It was some brand of an American spaghetti Western the likes of which the oulwan would disapprove of. Holy unadulterated muck for the mind she would call the spaghetti westerns.
As I settled into the late night flick with the oulfellar I waited to have my go at his well of knowledge. As the movie started to get into its stride a moment of deep insight was presented to me. Some rackjaw of a character was telling a young lad to go West. Was I hearing things or is that what he really said.
"Da?" I ventured to broach the subject.
"Wha?" was the slurred reply I got for my troubles.
"What did he mean when he said to go West. What West was he talking about?”
"The West he’ll be arriving at in about two minutes time when he gets off that oul train ", says he to me still intently watching the telly and not wanting to engage in intellectual debate with me. I was more confused that ever at this point.
"But where he coming from Da?"
"Probably about twenty feet away from the set for the West."
"Really Da, whats a set?"
"Jaysus , he`s coming from the bloody East allright, the bloody East is where they all came from to go to the west. That’s why they called it the wild west.The east was civilised don’t you see. Millions of Irish helped to make the east. After the famine that’s where they all went. However he still wasn’t answering y question. He didn't appear interested in my quest for knowledge. I refused to give in. Why did they do that Da?" I asked tentatively.
"Because in the West the hills were filled with gold, while in the East only the streets were filled with gold".
"The streets in the East are filled with gold Da?"
"Yes son , the streets of the East are filled with gold?"
I thought this was definitely the time to hit home with the big question.
"Da, are we in the West or the East ?"
"We`re neither, we`re in the bloody South East. Now would you ever shut you gob and watch the feckin telly". Says he to me having had enough interruption he said.
That was the end of it. Neither East nor West. I’d come no closer for all the questions and I was not likely to get much more outta him with the humour that was on him.
I settled down to study the West as best I could from the scant information that the film was going to provide. I was careful to note every detail of the landscape. Places with erotic names that I would no doubt visit when I made my escape from the homeland. In my mind I etched such names as Fargo, Shiane, Devils Hideout, the badlands and Dodge city. These were likely to be places that would be important to me when I made my way West. One thing that did worry me was that many of the inhabitants of the West appeared so violent. As for how I was going to get to the west, I knew I had a lot of work to do on my understanding of geography. Maloney was the key to finding out how I could get to the west. One day soon after the telly incident with the father Maloney sprung into the class jittery from drinking too much strong coffee in the staff room. By the look of her she had the hangover from Hell. Jack Murphy said she'd been in his father’s pub the night before, "throwing them into her" according to what his father had said at breakfast that morning. This was good for my cause as she would not be fully on the ball. I would hope to impress her with some of the new knowledge that I had acquired in geography since spending so much time at the geography books trying to figure out where the west lay. Then I could try and hit her with a sly question to get the truth about where the west lay.
I hoped that if I offered up a few well rehearsed nuggets of intellect she'd be over the moon. She would rejoice that her crap teaching was having some results. Miss Maloney was well known to think us a pack of thick gobshites, which is why she had the pleasure of teaching us-she being thick enough herself and known as one of the worst teachers in the school. Miss Maloney would be floating high as a kite if she thought that all that time she spent up in Dublin at the college wasn't a complete waste of time and that she had actually achieved something.It'd give her something to boast about in the staff room at lunchtime. She would have something to say in-between fighting with the other teachers to find out who took a biscuit more than they should have, and wondering why if everyone had paid all their tea money there still was eight pounds short. Jessica Deegan was in there one day on a message and she said that was all they went on about the whole time. It was reasonable enough to assume than that sort of carry on was the usual get up of them. By the time I had offered up me intellectual wares for her inspection she'd be bouncing off up to the staffroom with a bit of one-up-man-ship to stick in the faces of all the other teachers, most of whom had long since given up on us.
"Miss,Miss" I pleaded. She didn't hear me. She was obviously really hung over. I tried again , this time louder.
"Misss, Misssssss" I beckoned.
"I'm not bloody deaf Dickson. What do you want?"
"I want to know something" I continued.
Well isn't that the pleasant change. What exactly is it you want to know?"
"Well miss, I want to know if a Drumlin is a glacial deposit, laid down usually in clusters after the glacier had retreated in an interglacial period or at the end of the ice age when the Glacier retreats permanently". I quoted Verbatim.
"Yes Dickson, that is about what a Drumlin is.”She appeared confused.
I was delighted. She appeared impressed so I thought I'd have another go of it.
"And Misss, Missss". I continued, determined to push forward my advantage. The rest of the class were enjoying my superior show of knowledge to the teacher. All ears were cocked for my next display of one up-man-ship.
"Miss, is an Erratic a rock that is laid down at location foreign to its origin, having been carried by the ice pack when it was advancing?" I sucked up unmercifully.
"Dickson?" My name hung on her lips as she waited, I was sure to compliment my studious disposition. My moment of glory was doubtless upon me.
"Yes Miss?" I replied expectantly fishing for compliments.
"Dickson,” she said - with my name hanging in the air, no doubt she was in awe of my intellect. This was my moment of redemption I was sure.
"Would you ever wise up to yourself. Trying to show off is most unbecoming in any person, let alone someone your age. So leave it out Dickson".
She marched on with the lesson without a word of compliment on my excellent contribution.
"Right. Out with your Galway map. We’re going to look at the settlement factors that attracted people to live in Galway. If you look at the South East sector of the map you’ll see the City of Galway. Can everybody see that?" she waffled on.
"Where is the South East corner of the map miss?" blurted out a confused Mulcahy.
"That's the bottom right-hand corner to you Mulcahy".
"Isn’t the sea blue on this map miss?” asked Burke in a moment of unusually scholarly interest. I had the feeling that Burke had something up his sleeve. He was not the type that spent too much time asking questions on any subject.
"Yes Burke, the sea is blue on the map. Naturally enough don't you think? responded miss pleased at punch with what we all knew was a discreetly veiled barb aimed at Burkes stupid question.
Just as the land is represented by green -again for fairly obvious reasons," said Miss not letting go of her scholarly advantage over the dunce Burke.
"Oh yes Miss, I can see that" replied Burke. He wasn't finished yet though." but then miss, how do the people in Galway breath?"
"Did I hear that correctly?"
"Yes Miss. How do they breath Miss?"
"Burke , I have heard some questions in my time, but this one really has to top them all. Are you wisecracking me?"
"God no Miss."
"Like everybody else they breathe through their mouths".
"But Miss, I didn't think that people could breathe under water".
"Jesus Christ Burke , give me patience. Miss had no response to this line of questioning. It was difficult to see where Burke was coming from.
"But Miss, Galway is in the sea".
"What are you on about?”
"Look at the map miss, Galway is in the sea. Where it says Galway is blue. It’s under the Sea. Isn’t that right Miss?"
Fair fuck`s to him. There was some truth in it. The words Galway were set against the deepest blue.
" Mother of Bloody Jaysus Burke, do you never actually try and use that brain of yours?” She attacked the stupid question not knowing if it was a windup or merely thick.Either way she had no intention of letting Burke be seen to have to have the upper hand. She continued on in her best sarcastic tone."The name Galway happens to be located on what is the physical area of the sea. The city, on the other hand is the colour grey on the map, and it is located where all cities are located, on the bloody land. Understood?"
"Yes Miss,” Burke meekly responded.
Burke had pulled a few feathers from her cap. If my own plans for intellectual enlightenment weren’t going to plan at least Burkes stupid question would help the class forget my own misunderstanding concerning the map. As the whole of the class cracked up laughing at Burke I knew that I was already no longer regarded as the thickest mucker.Burke was now the holder of that title. Things were looking decidedly up again.
But those few days had left me with no choice as to my future. Whatever about temporary respite caused by Brukes even dumber question than mine I knew I could never win the esteem of my peers or elders even at my relatively young years. I had already decided by that time that I was no man for those parts. I`d best be off to where I`d be appreciated as soon as possible. I had to make my escape to the West. No sooner had I made my decision to leave those part’s than the God’s trust upon me a valuable piece of knowledge that was to aid my escape from the futile existence that waited me in the place of my birth. Miss Maloney was the unwitting source of my inspirational knowledge. Though we had well and truly managed to wipe the smirk off her face and aged her five years in ten minutes that day she soldiered on at the chalk face and dropped the valuable gem of information that gave me the key to my escape.
"Now ,if there’s no more idiotic questions lets focus our attention to the " City of the tribes – know as Galway. Its located on the Western Seaboard of Ireland" It was like a beacon of light had been shone for me in the sea of darkness. I finally had a fix on where I was going. I was enlightened , literally. I still wasn't sure where exactly the Western seaboard was though . Thankfully Delaney wasn't any more enlightened than me and helped clarify the issue further.
"Miss, I thought you said Galway City was in the South East miss?, piped up Delaney.
"The South Eastern corner of the map we are looking at Delaney , not the South East of the country.
"But then MisssÖÖ"
"Then what Delaney ?"
"Well Miss, how can it be in the West as well".
"Because Delaney, if you learn`t anything over the last few years in this geography class you would realise that the this small map we are looking at today is part of a much larger map of the whole of Ireland. We are only looking at one small section of that map which has been made to a specific scale so that we might be able to actually make out some features on it. The larger map of Ireland is a different scale - we could not make out the detail on the larger map that we can on this smaller map. Having studied geography for three years you should by this stage at least be familiar with that. Finally, and just to remind you when we study a map we use directions to refer to particular places , which is why we are referring to Galway being in the South Eastern sector of the map , not the South Eastern sector of the country. Do you for once and all understand that Mr. Dealaney ?
He said he did , though he had a look that suggested that he was really still travelling in the dark on the issue of where exactly Galway was.There was only so much humiliation that a body can take however and there comes a time when its best just to shut up.
" Do you bloody well understand Delaney? She shouted.
"Yes Miss, I think so" Delaney lied. Delaney shut up. Even we in our dumbness could see the basic gist of what Miss was on about? Even we could recognise that Delaney was an idiot. I on the other hand was listening to little enough of it. What She had said had in fact sunk home. She had accidentally revealed the Holy Grail. Galway was in the West. I couldn't believe the luck of it. Delaney’s stupid question had given me the information that I needed. Galway was in the West. The west was where I had to go. GALWAY was where I had to escape too. Now I could see the sense of me oulfellars words. He was extolling me to get away as far the hell away from the thump of an oul mountain and over Yonder to the West. He could never say so directly for fear the mother would never forgive him for pushing her only son off the unforgiving rock. The rock that we had been forced to call home. From what I had seen of the west on the telly it was everything our little corner of the world was not. It was somewhere else for a start. It was obviously on the sea - not stuck on the side of a mountain. That of itself had to be a good thing. It had great and dry sunny weather- I knew that from watching old cowboy movies set in the wild west . I just hoped that things were not as completely crazy as they looked to be in the movies. I suppose that they didn't call it the Wild West for nothing. It was probably a good sign that Miss called it the West , that probably meant that things had quietened down a bit since all the movies had been made. Unless of course there was also a quiet West?
I felt that I had at least finally got something to work with in my search for the place of my destiny. For the first time in a long time I was content. Miss continued on with class, and for once I was all ears, anxious to learn all that I could about the place that was to be my home for the future. She started on with what she called the settlement patterns. "Now boys, can you tell me from looking at the map why people chose to live in this place? Delaney rushed to answer, this topic obviously had some special interest for Delaney .
"Miss, I know", volunteered Delaney.
"Oh good Delaney, what attracted people to live in Galway then?
"The slots machines and the pubs Miss," says Delaney proudly.“You see Miss, we were down there for a week last year and that was why we went. My oulpair would let us go to play the one arm bandits while they relaxed in the pub miss,” advised Delaney. Miss appeared perplexed, but nevertheless she continued to try and do her best to knock a bit of sense into Delaney. "Delaney, is there any chance you can take your mind back to the dawn of civilisation and wonder why people went to live in Galway before the tourist attractions?” begged Miss.
Delaney though about what miss had asked him for all of a few moments before responding. "I’ve never been up at dawn miss, but my mother knows all about dawn miss. She’s always talking about getting up at the crack of dawn to get us bloody lot out the door, so she can have a minute to herself she says. Ill ask her If you like miss, when I get home?" Miss sighed with exasperation. There was indeed no accounting for the unhinged workings of Delaneys mind. Even with my poor sense of where everything was in Ireland I was not so unhinged as Delaney appeared to be. He was truly a lost cause. Every class had one, and Delaney was ours.
I had to feel a bit sorry for the carry on that Miss had to put up with from us. Miss did her best to try and teach us what few gems of information she appeared to possess, but it was an uphill battle for her most of the time. But at least she kept trying, we did occasionally admire her for that! From then on I was all ears in Geography class. In every other lesson I slunk into a world of my own, but in Geography class I was like a blotting paper to ink. Me head was away with the fairies as I dreamt about the new life that awaited me. I now knew I had to start making plans to escape to the West as soon as possible. I may only have been a young chap but at least now I knew where I was going in the world. I found out over coming weeks that Galway was a largely agricultural and fishing community. That information didn't give me much hope for much of a better life than I already had. I didn't fancy a life of mucking out farmsteads over there any more than I did at home. I could see little advantage either in getting involved in the fishing industry. That was an industry that was by all accounts an even worse life than the farming.
I would have to give serious consideration as to how I was going to make a living if I was to get married and bring up a family. We were expected to do that when we grew up. Brother Declan always advised us that we should be thinking about the long term even at our early age. He said it would help us to direct our thoughts towards Gods plan for us. I was glad someone had a plan for me, because I hadn't a clue what I was doing with my life. He said thinking about our future married life would help us resist wasting our seeds seeking immoral self pleasure. Seeking self pleasure I heard the older lads say meant wanking. I wasn't sure what that was either. I had a lot to learn allright. Brother Declan promised that pulling the nobs off ourselves would make us blind and crippled. And no woman would ever want to have anything to do with us because we had wasted all our seeds on self pleasure. The first chance I had to waste my seeds was with Alice Maher up the back of the woods. The incident was a bit of a shock for the both of us. She was sure she’d broken something with all the mutual pulling and rubbing. I was mortified and wondered how in the name of Jaysus I was ever going to explain the nature of the medical emergency at home. However, we both survived the experience and didn't do much more messing after that. We took it as a warning from God. Just like Brother Declan said, God is always looking, and I shouldn't have had me hand down Alice Mahers drawers. Nor she mine. The matter was resolved some days later when Alice informed me that she’d not broken any of my equipment and I was only after having a period according to her sister . Putting a name on it made things somewhat easier to deal with.
I asked the uncle what was a period. He looked a bit shocked and sent me off to ask at the school. I thought Miss Maloney the obvious choice. She was having none of it though. She sent me right back to Brother Declan. He started on again about sowing seeds and saving myself for the right woman and I was back to square one. Alice Maher had been told by the nuns that the girls should wait for the right man. Neither of us saw any problem in waiting with one another in the mean time. I told Brother Declan that I couldn’t see what waiting with Alice Maher until the right woman came along. He lambasted me from a height and both sets of our oulwans got to hear about the mutual waiting. They quickly put a stop to that. For a good few months we didn't have a chance to get barely a look at each other.
That was a pity, because I heard around the town her tits were getting bigger and more succulent by the day. Her sister said I’d want to clean meself up a touch and stop looking like some brand of a bog farmer if I was to have any hope with Alice atall. She was apparently also getting choosier about who she messed around with. Not deterred I finally persuaded myself back into her good boks somewhat. But unlike the first time we had messed together now she had taken to getting me to sit on a phone book while she sat on my knee. This tactic was supposed to stop us having impure thoughts. What the nuns told her was the passion. The other lads called the passion a hardon". I was not sure what exactly was a hadron. Neither was Alice. All I knew is that a felt a deep frustration. All my efforts were focused on what to do with the frustration. I made what enquiries I could. The other lads knew less than they made out when push came to shove. Brother Declan said to go away and say two decades of the Rosary every time I felt the frustration. I tried to tell him that I couldn't possibly spend my whole day praying. Alice had no better luck in her quest for knowledge. I got to thinking that the constant state of my frustration was Gods way of telling me that I had a vocation. I was mortified at the prospect. Jaysus. A lifetime of prayer and frustration. I was beginning to understand why the monks lived in the most inhospitable of places away from the girls. About the same time Alice Maher discovered that she was the one to sit on the phone book -while placing it between herself and meself when we were "cavorting" as Brother Declan would be want to call what we called messing around.
The correct use of the phone books made things a little easier and reduced the frustration. It meant that we could snog a little longer. A solution of sorts, if only partially successful. We had been practising a lot at every school and parish disco that we could find and soon were considered expert kissers. People were coming to us to ask for advice and we were happy to share our knowledge as best we could, and would - give demonstrations. Alice was having no deeper exploration which was a hugh pity because her breasts continued swelling by the day and she was looking a topper. The proper beauty in fact. She became less accommodating as time went on to letting me explore her drawers. And more reluctant herself to drop her hand down my jocks. So it was that most times that we met we had to do nothing but stick to the kissing and go home and pray after- to keep the frustration at bay. I wasn't long getting tired of all that. Maybe Brother Declan was right. Possibly the praying was the answer.
I could always run away to the church for a quick pray when I felt the frustration. Half the town spent all their spare time in the Church, no doubt working on their frustration.The other half of the town were usually to be found in the pub. Dealing with the frustration in their own way too. Perhaps that's how they all dealt with the frustration in their adult ways. I was only a young fellow. Just a chap. Sure I’d find out about these things in good time . In the mean time, I had no intention of giving up on Alice Maher, phone book or no phone book.

Chapter 2
Despite my best intentions, in a shorter time than I care to think I had all but forgotten about Alice Maher. The realisation that time was pushing on made me concentrate my best efforts on figuring out how in the name of Jaysus I was going to make a living over there. Out west that is. Now that I at least knew where I was going, life finally had a direction, if not yet a purpose. I knew that whatever fleeting moment of desire I felt for Alice Maher would soon be replaced by hoards of ladies that I knew I`d be pulling way over yonder in the West. Once I had plenty of money coming in I would have no bother pulling better than the likes of Alice Maher, who was plain enough when all was said and done. All the lads agreed, even in the depths of our ignorance that the one thing that was a sure puller for the ladies was the few bob in the pocket. I became focused on the prospects for earning a living over in the West. It hadn't been lost on us that the sons of the big farmers always appeared to be a to be a more attractive lot to the ladies , no matter what they looked like. That left only one conclusion - it was the few bob more than us they had that added to their attractiveness. We were learning fast around that time I can tell you. If I was to have any look with the ladies then there was only one thing for it , and that was to ensure that I made a good living over yonder.
Fishing looked the only real option that was a far away from farming was concerned.I got an oul fishing rod to give the fishing a shot down at the local lake. The whole carry on was no more enticing than I`d expected it to be - cold , wet and outdoors. Was every bit as bad as the farming. Only worse. That was no life I knew there and then.The answer of what to do for a living came when I was watching the TV. Broadcast live from Galway no less.From what I could see they spoke mostly in Gaelic, a language that I was obviously going to have to learn better in school if I was going to have any hope of ever integrating into my new community. The whole of Galway appeared to be full of musicians, singers, dancers and the like. Music, jigging and reeling about the place as they entertained that looked like a fine way to be making a living. Drinking and sucking on the oul fags to boot as they worked. Wasn't that surly the oul job to be going for? I Couldn't help but notice that there were plenty of fine looking young wans running about the place as well. Many of them were looking starry eyed at the lads in the band. I couldn't help but think that show business was the career for me right enough. At that moment I knew that a career in the entertainment industry was my destiny. But what could I play? The grandfather was something of a tin whistle player, but that seemed like too much hard work. I didn’t see any point in swapping one bloody awful slog of work for another. I could sing? The grandmother was always saying that I had the gift of the voice, passed on from the tradition of storytelling in the family. But that too appeared to be hard work, what with all that music to learn, and remembering the lyrics, and then it was only oulwans that wanted to be listening to the stories right enough. It was wans that I wanted to be pulling as a fringe benefit of the job, not oul oulwans. The singing was out as a career choice. I had to be in a band.
The music industry was the thing for me all right. The fact that I knew nothing about the industry, or had virtually no skills did not put me off atall. Shur how hard could it be to learn a few tunes and jump about an oul stage like an eejit. I would need to get experience if I was to have any hope of making it as a musician. Around then I started to take an interest in a nearby townland called Glory. That place close to our homestead that was reported to be the place to go for things cultural. Glory was what they called around our parts a cultural magnet. I didn’t really know what culture was, but I knew bands were part of culture. There had to be opportunities in Glory I guessed. Culture was treated with great mistrust and suspicion where I came from. But not in Glory. They loved the culture in Glory.Word had it that down in Glory they were nearly more interested in culture than they were making a living. That sounded fine to me. Getting far away from anything that passed as a class of work was surely a good thing. Glory was by all accounts a place where people could get a bit of culture away from having to go all the way up to the capital. Glory was full of a better class of people I was told. Positively overrun with professional types, literally falling over themselves to outdo each other in cultural appreciation and knowledge. This was would start my search for the future .I would join a band, learn to be a musician and make my mistakes in Glory before heading over to the West. I was told that in Gaelic they said Galway was the place of Ceol, craic agus Caint. MC Carthy translated to English this as being wine, women and song. Aside from myself, Mc Carthy was the closest thing that we had to a scholar up our way. Who was I to argue with him. A place that advertised its importance to the world by reference to having a good time must be a sign that this was important to me. For my destiny. Glory would be a good training ground for my future if all they were interested in doing there was having fun.
I began hitching down the mountain to Glory as often as I could. I was soon feeling like the proper mucker around Glory I can tell you. Just by the look of them down around there you knew what they thought of a chap from the hills like me. To those of the cultural elite in Glory I was from an inferior hill tribe. A bog smelly mucker .A lower form of life .They barely looked at me, and if they did, they glanced at me like I was roadkill. Obviously they could tell that I was not in the slightest bit cultured. It was like they could smell the lack of culture offa me. They even dressed different, all the wans walked around with the look of the city on them. I was a peasant badly dressed by comparison. The relative proximity to Dublin rubbed off on the youthful citizens of cosmopolitan Glory. However, despite all the airs and graces on the lot of them down there it was little enough of culture that I found floating around the streets I was confused, but there was little enough that gave me a clue to what was expected of a body to be well and truly accepted as a member of the cultural elite in Glory.
Excursion after excursion I made my way down to Glory, in the hope of finding where all the culture was happening. I was singularly disappointed with the result of my excursions down to Glory.I was finding no more cultural inspiration there than I was beyond at the top of the mountain.After a number of solo journeys I dragged McCarthy along to help me locate the epicentre of culture. McCarthy was always open to new experiences, though unlike myself, he had no desire to leave the raggy rock. He was a home bird, and happy at it.
Young Mc Carthy was becoming a good ally in a search for an alternative to a life of misery and toil on the farm. He too had an inkling for the creative talent so that it was easy to persuade him to come along and in no time I had an inseparable ally on my trip’s to Glory. Both McCarthy and myself quickly recognised that we would have to acquire the correct attire to impress these lads down in Glory if we were going to make any progress. Even with the right clobber the next few months of excursions down the mountain didn't appear to be getting us anywhere any quicker than I had got on me own , even though we had made a bit of an effort to at least dress like them. Despite trying to hangout in all the right places, the lads from the arty circles were having none of us. And worse, they had some fine wans in their harem, I can tell you. It was also far from sharing them with us they appeared to be. We listened in to their conversations as best we could and made notes of the things they were talking about. We could barely understand a word of what they were saying. It was all very confusing, but we were determined to figure out how it was that we should act and behave. When we went home we practised talking like them no matter how ridiculous we may have sounded to each other. We spent a lot of time swotting up in the encyclopaedia trying to get the general gise of their interests. Alas, it appeared that their knowledge base was so deep that their subject matter wasn` t even covered in the most advanced text books. We did pick up on a few pieces of their slang however, and got what mileage we could out of that.
Finally we got a break and picked some information on their interests. They spent a lot of time talking about Rolling Numbers. A band? Like the Rolling Stones ? We also heard them talk about a game called blow. A strange sport that I couldn't fathom atall. It was some time before we realised that they were talking about pot. That was what they were interested in - smoking pot! Shur when we heard that lots of their behaviour became understandable to us. That was devastating news to us. They were just a bunch of potheads. We would have to give up entirely on the prospect of becoming truly Arty types. It was far from becoming drug addicts that we were raised. So it was that we decided temporarily to give up altogether trying to become arty types.We would for the time being concentrate on chasing girls again until we could figure out what kind of image we wanted to give out to the world. To tell you the truth we were both secretly relieved that we had come to a decision regarding the artiness. It was a lot of hard work trying to keep up with all that highfluttin chitterchatter about nothing in particular. Yandering Ill grant you, but a different type of Yandering to that which we were used to.
As the year was dragging on it was becoming high time that we went back to concentrating on getting an oul shag from some quarter again. And we were learning lots about sex. It was fast becoming only a matter of time before the next natural stage was to try the whole process out in real life. At the end of the day, hearing about it second hand was ultimately a poor substitute for the real thing. Our only problem was hat we needed to find our selves a female partner first. When we rationalised about our situation we realised that we had been waiting for many long months at this stage to have a go at a shag. Despite all our best efforts and not counting the brief episode with Alice Maher, we were basically getting nowhere. And the end result of all the waiting for the shags that never came was that the waiting was causing us no amount of frustration.
Brother Declan in the school had taken to giving us advanced lessons on keeping the frustration at bay. That had all started when Francis Maguire had been caught with a book Brother Declan described as the devils work. That of course meant we all wanted to have a look. Brother Declan was in no mood for passing the offending article around.We tried to reason with him that we needed to have a look at the book so as we might be able to recognise the devils handiwork the next time that it passed through our hands. All was not lost however. Fortunately McCarthys older brother had a few samples of such filth. There was some lineout to have a look at it I can tell you. The wan`s in it displayed parts of the body that us poor gombeens could only dream about. No doubt about it. We still had a lot to learn.Brother Declan said we had to be especially careful in our weaker moments . That of course meant to my mind all the time. My life back then was one weak moment after another. But the dead of night was the place that the weaker moments really got the run of themselves and that was when we had to be at our most aware praying to ward off the frustration said Brother Declan. Brother Declan also said that a problem shared is a problem halved , so I tried again to enlist the help of Alice Maher to relieve the frustration. She was having none of it though. She’d become the right proper little bitch who would hardly talk to me by this time, having found herself an older fellow. A more mature fellow as she called him. A buckin eejit I called him.
The long and the short of it was that Alice was going to be no help with the frustration. Things had got so bad that the frustration was keeping me up half the night. I was away with the fairies and beside myself trying to keep the frustration at bay. I knew and recited every prayer in the little book for school boys that Brother Declan said would save us all from the Hell that surely awaited us when we met our maker if we didn't try to live pure lives. I wasn't entirely sure what a pure life was. I did know that it had nothing to do with having thoughts about the frustration all the time. I knew the releasing of the frustration was itself an impure act. I got to the stage where I was praying for upwards of four hours a night to ward off the frustration and feeling constantly exhausted as a result. However, one night I received divine inspiration and the frustration released itself. In one great moment of release in the front of my pants God saved me from myself. It was just like the time when Alice Maher had released the frustration accidentally, only this time, it was Gods work. It had to be a miracle. I was chosen by the almighty for special treatment. I was surely blessed. The recipient of a minor miracle. I knew what the reason for the spontaneous release of the frustration was because I had been praying in a manner of speaking at the time. I had been glancing at a prayer for the safety of livestock in preparation for an upcoming harvest mass at the school.That was the trigger I realised when I recounted my steps. I began to realise that the spontaneous release of the frustration was my reward for seeking the righteous path.
God’s gift for the pure manner in which I had attempted to control my unnatural urges was rewarded with a unique sinless cure for the frustration. I alone among my peers had not succumbed to the base instincts of manual intervention that was popular among my fellows. There was no doubt in my mind that divine intervention was probably the reward for my pious disposition. No doubt about it, atall, atall. From that evening on I spent inordinate amounts of my spare time reciting the prayer for the safety of livestock. The lads from the school couldn't believe it until I was persuaded to give a few demonstrations. Sure enough, and right on cue, the frustration released itself somewhere around the middle of the prayer for the protection of livestock. Dar reader , I do have to confess that Sometimes a little visual help was required from McCarthy`s brothers filthy books. Other times, I had only to start reciting the prayer, and all Hell broke loose. It was mad altogether. All the boys in the school suddenly took such an interest in the prayer to livestock. Fellows could be heard at all hours of the day reciting it in locations as diverse as the cloakroom and the science labs. But noone had the same manner of spontaneous reaction that I had , of course, I being the chosen one, Gods special little helper as I liked to think of myself. The other fellows were using what could only be described as impure methods -though they were trying hard to seek the pure and unassisted release from their frustrated anguish. Their lack of divine intervention made me all the more convinced that I was chosen by God for special work. God had provided me with a manner in which to beat the system and find a way around the frustration without necessarily committing a sin.I was a living miracle.
As time went on the divine inspiration got so intense that every time I passed a religious artifact of any description or from any religious persuasion I got a fit of the frustration. Fortunately could recite the prayer for the protection of livestock - and release the frustration. While the other lads had to make do with dirty books, mostly supplied by McCarthy`s brother, I was getting excited from a higher calling, which I did start to think was a little odd in itself. However, I could find in no interest in the filthy erotic magazines. But the mere thought of a religious artifact was enough to give me a blast of the frustration. Which could only be released by reciting the prayer for the protection of livestock. I was becoming embroiled in a vicious circle. Was I being punished and divinely blessed at the same time. Was this a test of my purity . I was tempted to ask Brother Declan but he was inapproachable at the best of times with minor matters. I couldn’t go to him about something of such magnitude.
This became a pressing issue for me, and in time it dawned on me that there was something seriously wrong with getting off by seeing a religious statue. No matter how pure I may have thought it to be at first. I was becoming a queer sort allright , and if I didn't find a way to become normal then I had no hope atall. I got to thinking that I had become really right peculiar altogether.I just hoped that I hadn't messed myself up by using the prayer for the protection of livestock, and I was now not normal. There was always a chance that God was punishing me for using prayer in a fashion that it was never intended to be used, no matter how well meaning my objectives might have been. I didn't know which way to turn.The more I thought about it the more that I realised that I could only arouse the frustration when I laid eyes on Holy artifacts and symbols. Holy crosses could do it for me. Equally, statues of all manner and sorts, and by God wasn't every home and public building full of them at that time .Every spare inch of shelf and pedestal in every home and building was positively adorned with religious artifacts.Not to mention the streets .Even cars and buses carried all manner of religious item`s, so it was that for many a long month I went about in a permanent state of frustration. I was as near permanently frustrated as made no difference ,and only waiting for the opportunity to recite the prayer for the protection of livestock and relieve the frustration. By this time I had a band of followers who clung on to my every word of wisdom in the matter of the spontaneous release of the frustration. They were pure and searching souls who though they too could chart a course somewhere between the line taken by Brother Declan and McConville`s brother. I was less than happy to be constantly called upon to give demonstrations but I felt it was my duty. Around that time my followers began to gather in the ancient and magical fairy fort high up over the hills at Dun-na-nob. We could positively feel the magic of ancient Druids as we offered up devotion to the Sheilla- na- gig , the ancient God of fertility. There was a stone head bust of her above the spot where the altar used to be.
We had hoped some of the senior girls from the convent even might make their way into our circle. We sounded out a few of them about our special devotion but they almost recoiled at the very thought of joining our special group. God forgive me for saying it, but the nun`s had them ruined. Those convent girls were fit for nothing but making babies within the sanctity of holy matrimony. Accepting that we were on our own we got on with the job of trying to get other members of the group reach the peak of spiritual enlightenment through spontaneous eruption. After a time some of the followers managed to achieve the same manner of divine inspiration that I had originally been blessed with. Encouraged by the spread of the gift of spontaneous eruption we began to meet more and more regularly at our secret location to worship in our own special way. I of course, being the first to receive the blessed gift of spontaneous eruption always had a stronger sense of purity and moral superiority than the rest of the group. Soon the numbers of our group had reached a hundred .They appeared to look to me as their leader though I preferred to think of myself more as just a fellow traveller. I resisted as much as I could the temptation to be drawn in to the leadership role, but slowly I acquired the status of leader by default . My own spiritual growth began to take over my every waking hour as the proliferation of religious artefacts scattered throughout the country side left me understandably enough in a constant state of frustration. .
As the months rolled on I began to think that I would have to move to somewhere Godless if I was ever to have a normal life without all the bother of a constant and often painfully embarrassing dose of the frustrations from one end of the day to another. How, I wondered would I ever even get a job if I could not even concentrate on anything but the constant frustration. I would be basically unemployable, incapable of doing anything but dealing with the frustration on a full time basis. Was I doomed to spend my life thus ? Forever frustrated? What about my plans to go to the West? Was there as much religion over there ?

Chapter 3
If I was ever to have any hope of living a normal life I would have to move to somewhere Godless when I grew up. England perhaps. That was a place I had often heard was full of heathens. Anyway, while the frustration was a daily affliction I was condemned to a life of religiosity. I was at least glad to note that my disease, as I now had to consider it, was not confined to any one religion and I was as likely to be frustrated at the sight of a dirty black Protestant place of worship as soon as one of our own holy temples of divine Catholic inspiration and light, basking In the glory of the one true God incarnate. That at least gave me some hope that once I found a Godless place to live all would be ok. I hoped that Galway was godless. But it was in Ireland so maybe I would have to cancel my destiny and go to England instead if the frustration didn’t cure itself. Or God didn’t release me from my extalted position. It was around that time that people started to call our little gathering a cult. I was at pains to point to any and all who would listen that we were in fact a sect , and not a cult.I can assure you dear reader that we`d have no truck whatsoever with any brand of cult carry-ons. We were a legitimate group that had as our worshipping focus the ancient Celtic fertility God Sheila-na-Gig. That dear reader may have made us a little odd, but it did not make us a cult. Ok, so we may have activated our special spontaneous eruption through the intervention of the Holy Spirit, but you must always remember dear reader that we only started our group after exhaustive attempts to eliminate our frustration by means that did conform to the teachings of the church.As far as we were concerned our special group was taking a righteous and holy path. However , some of the Parents eventually got word of our activities. They had apparently been spying on us for upwards of a week before all Hell let loose. Father Mac was seen charging up the Old Monastic ruin towards us with a bunch of Police just as we were reaching a peak moment in our spiritual devotion. We were a sight alright I can tell you. I can understand what they must have thought when they beheld the vista of over seventy of our number with pants dropped and in various stages of the relieving the frustration. We were going to have some amount of talking to convince them that we weren't a bunch of weirdos. Or rather, I was going to have a lot of explaining to do, since I appeared to have been targeted as the leader of the pack. I was at odds to tell the priest that I was by no means the leader of any of the whole carryon.
I pleaded with them to understand that our service was a genuine spiritual experience, despite looks to the contrary. From the look on the faces of all the gathered forces of civility and moral order I gathered that they didn't think too much of our devotion’s. Their eye’s had a look that suggested there would be all Hell to pay. I started to explain to them about the spontaneous eruption, but soon tapered off with my own defence when Father Mac began to scream hysterically that there would be all Hell to pay for the evil and debauched activities that we were involved in. I thought he was going a bit far myself. Our intentions were the purest I can assure you. He said no amount of excuses would explain the sickest carryon he said he had ever seen.
There was holy murder when we arrive back to the town, hauled in by the scruff of the neck by the local police and a few half baked curates intent on showing that they were a force to be reckoned with.The oulwans were gobsmacked. Nobody could understand the purity of our actions no matter how much we tried to explain to them. They all though that we were sick. Insane they said they hoped, rather than possessed.I tried to explain to them that we were only following the advice of people in the know like Brother Declan.We pursued our devotions in a pure manner without sinning. Aside from the unhygienic nature of our devotions I could see no reason whatsoever for the entire bad attitude.
Horny perverted bollixes I heard Father Mac refer to us. There was no need atall for that kind of attitude. That was fine language to be coming from a priest. I could see no reason for the involvement of the police or the church, but as usual they wanted to poke their hand in everything. They didn't like my attitude one little bit they told me.I was far too cocky for my own good they said. They made it very clear to me that there were some very hard times ahead and that I had a lot of explaining to do. Things in the town were considered so bad that the Missions were brought in to blast the Devil out of our lives. One good point however is that Brother Declan was taken to task over his inability to present his thoughts in a manner likely to be misconstrued by our young and impressionable bogsoaked minds. He even got it in the neck by being singularly considered to blame for my own peculiar affliction through his misguided teaching on the subject of impure act’s. When they had finished with Brother Declan, it was only a matter of time before they got round to me.
Sure enough, I didn't have long to wait and I was quickly let know that I was the one who was considered the baddest apple in the whole rotten barrel of bad apples. I was also let know in no uncertain terms that what we had considered a sect was what they all thought to be an evil cult. I was duly dragged down to the local police station for my debriefing as they called it.. They were a right fucking bunch of professional’s altogether. They had been working busily behind my back and after many investigations they decided among themselves that I was the one that needed to be dealt with as the brains behind the cult, and sorted out accordingly. I was marked out in report after report as an individual that needed to be looked at most closely in case I poisoned the whole youth of the area. They had come to the opinion that it was essential to stamp out the Cult of Eroticism, as they had come to call it. The first step in that process was to cull my power over others of weaker moral persuasion.
There was no telling them that as good Catholics we had acted according to what Brother Declan had thought us .We had, I insisted, found a way around the sinning aspect of relieving the frustration wrought on by the impure thoughts.I was bull headed about defending our position, insisting that we had broken no commandments nor committed any sins. Unfortunately, the few black protestants that had made their way into our group didn't help our cause despite my proffering an ecumenical focus to our devotion’s. They equally found it difficult to justify the presence of numerous erotic books as an acceptable accompaniment to our prayer meetings. I could have probably still have gotten away with the purity argument, but a few of the less than wholesome members of what was now being called `the Cult of the Erotic`s` were seen to be using the prayer meetings as a place to carry on with their own obscene and thwarted interpretation of the devotions, using , to the majority of our group ,unacceptable and impure manual practices. I immediately asked to know exactly who these individuals were so as I could personally deal with them myself as soon as I had a spare moment, and restore the group to its pure and well meaning origins. I was left in no doubt by a deluge of verbal abuse what the future of my group of"Dirty fuckin little wankers group " was likely to be. I was to be re-educated I was told.
That confused me.I was of the view that I knew little enough for all the years I was already in school. How they were going to re-educate a mind that to date had resisted any and all attempts at education ? However, I was unlikely to have any say in the matter. The future had been decided by those who thought that they knew better than me. I was told that I was to be taken in hand by a team of what were ominously referred to as "the best professionals in their fields”. To my uneducated bogarse mind I initially took this to mean a bunch of farmers. I was soon put right as to who they were when they sat around for a few hours discussing me as if I was an alien from another planet. This initial meeting of d`expert`s was, I could already see, the start of a process that I could feel in my bones was going to be long and painful. Long for them and painful for me. The upside of the committee of professionals dealing with what they called my case was that only for the fact that I was considered an interesting cases I`d have found myself up in the local institution for the insane. Now that shocked me no end. It was far from considering being insane I was reared. God almighty but I was just a poor misdirected country boy in want of a bit of guidance in a confusing and hostile world. So began the long period of professionals interfering with me in order to sculpt what they considered my warped personality into a stereotypical young God fearing patriot .A normal chap.
I was to become like everyone else, that was the job they had been bought in to do. I was subjected to battery after battery of derangement tests. Reader, they wanted to prove me mad as a hatter before they broke me to rebuild me. Many of the tests were apparently designed to ascertain if there was indeed any hope of saving me atall. What they were going to do if there was no hope of saving me was never said. I feared for the worst. Thankfully the assorted bunches of professionals eventually decided I was indeed just a thick country class of an eejit, and not the demonic leader of a cult. They even started to see the leadership qualities that I possessed. They had over the days of my inquisition come to have some understanding of the focus of our devotions, the Sheila na-gig. I was adamant that the Shelia-na-gigs were not pagan, but Christian as well. This was the thrust of my defence. I had some small success in convincing them that I was correct in my assertions. They viewed my thought’s sceptically, though they checked up a few books and eventually decided that there may indeed have been some merit in my words. They sent off word to the Bishops office that all our activities may not be as sick and demonic as they had first thought. The ancient Celtic fertility Goddess was starting to be seen by the priest`s and other do gooders on the inquisition panel as a potentially new way of attracting the younger generation to the church. Even back in those days, the church was already beginning to be seen as something of a senior citizen`s club. By the time of the next inquisition board one of the priests even started to probe me quietly to see did I have any interest in the priesthood. I told him in no uncertain words that I had no interest. He wouldn't give up though as he said the adoration of the Sheila na- Gigs had indeed proved to be not as dark, weird and against the teaching of the church as they had first thought. That apparently was the word from byond in the Bishop`s office. Unorthodox though it would appear to be, technically there was, apparently, nothing wrong with venerating the Sheila-na-Gigs. Anyways I even heard the Bishop`s representative say that he saw great possibilities for bringing Young fellows like myself back into the fold of the church, if the thing was approached in the correct way.
The Bishop`s man came to me privately a few day’s later to sound me out about my view`s on the mainstream church .He even asked would I be willing to join in some kind of new group for young men that would have the sheila na gig as it’s devotional focus? He did make the point however that the carry on with the spontaneous eruptions would have to stop.He couldn't have a religious ceremony based around a bunch of lads spontaneously jerking off .At least that was how he put it. He thought I`d jump at the chance to legitimise my rather dubious spiritual group. I was, however, having none of it as I`d already said and his attitude turned a dark shade of sour when he didn't get what he wanted. That was priests for you. They were all very pally when they wanted something. But sure enough as soon as you didn't do what they wanted it was a different story. As soon as yerman discovered I was no more likely to become a religious fanatic he became a little testy. Oh boy, but he went straight back to the rest of my inquisitors and said I was the right little bollix that they had first suspected and that I deserved to have the book thrown at me. That was enough to start the whole new debate among all the professionals as to how best to deal with " my situation."
There were somewhere in the region of sixteen gobshittes sitting up at the high table with the self appointed authority to plan my life more than I did myself. Experts and professionals. What a sorry bunch altogether. I had little or no confidence in them.They appeared incapable of doing little more then bickering and fighting, and it appeared that they hadn't a bloody clue what to do with me. The result was that I sat there day after day while they came up with one madcap scheme after another to cure my affliction. They would just end up fighting and end up deciding on a plan of action that only a few of all present parties could agree to. Next day a different bunch of them would have formulated a counter plan. This plan would be trussed up by one faction. Then rejected by another. Day after, it would all start again. What was agreeable to one group of professionals was derided by another. The end result was that nothing happened. Only the psychologists made any real progress. They were able to offer a variety of obsessions that I might like to replace my current fixation with. The priests could , of course , not go along with any suggestion that they should merely replace my current obsession with a normal focus for someone of my years. I took this to mean manipulation to relieve the frustration, and other impure act’s .The priest reared up that he could not go along with the perverted idea of the psychologist. His duty he said forbad him from allowing any member of the one true church to be knowingly put in a position of sinning.
This of course started the sociologists off. They were having none of it and accused the priest of being part of an organisation that was only capable of controlling their members through sexual repression. Further he insisted, it was indeed perfectly normal for a young lad my age to be amusing myself in a manner appropriate to my age group. The priest didn't like being told by the sociologists to keep his repressive opinions to himself. The Protestant minister was delighted at this of course having some opinions himself on the matter of sexual repression by the Catholic Church. He proffered a solution that would allow me to act as a normal lad my age within his church. He thought I might like to join his church if I didn't want to go back to the repressive and domineering ways of the Catholic faith. This started the Priest off something terrible and it wasn't long before the two of them were embroiled in a dispute that looked like it was going to become a physical affair. Just as their bit of verbal was getting interesting the Police Commissioner stepped in and said he`d arrest the both of them if they didn't sit down and behave themselves.
Well Jaysus this set the bloody lot of them off to the effect that the Commissioner was overstepping his authority,and started a course of confrontation that went on for two whole days, and all the time the school year dragging on and the me up in the police station with the professionals.This lot were some bunch to be deciding how it was I was supposed to proceed with my life. They couldn't even control themselves-let alone control me. They eventually" reconvened" as they called it and said they had come up with a solution. They asked would I mind terribly if they replaced my current obsession with something that they could all agree on was acceptable to them .An obsession that would be a replacement for my current focus and likely to be inoffensive to my fellow citizens.That was great, they said, when I replied I didn't see that I was being given very much of a choice in the matter. Could I at least have a choice of obsession to pick from I asked? No problem atall they replied. That would be great all together and all I had to do was pick the sport I wanted and leave the rest up to the shrinks and a few brands of therapy.
I didn't want to become obsessed with a sport I told them. I hated sport I said. Ah Shur how can you hate sport they all wanted to know? Shur you'll love the sport they said. What about some manner of a team game they asked. What about the Gaelic Football they asked? Surely I must love the Gaelic football. No bloody chance I replied. But the GAA is a great outfit altogether they said. If I was in the GAA it would give me something to talk about in the pub later on. And I`d probably even meet a nice young wan that I could marry at a later date and settle down. There were loads of GAA groupies I was informed. They joked that I`d even be able to drunk drive when I was older, and get away with it because half the cops were more interested in playing the game than doing their jobs. They made it abundantly clear that a major benefit of being in the GAA was that the cops would tear up any amount of summonses for traffic offences if I was one of the lads who was as passionate about the game as they were ,wha ? The commissioner had a right go at the Priest over that remark. He said that wasn't true atall. Nobody was above the law on the great little island, and to imply that the Garda were in any way responsible for perverting the law was not just irresponsible, but down right slander.
Jaysus the bloody lot of them to a professional broke into a derisory cackle of laughter that I took to mean they all knew better. The protestant minister offered the suggestion that hockey was a good alternative to the GAA, which he said was only a sport fit for thugs and yobs. Hockey was more than likely to inspire me towards a higher level of social responsibility, unlike the GAA .The GAA only bred a bunch of thugs, on and off, the pitch he said. The hockey was a civilised game he said. A gentleman’s game. Wouldn't I like that much better ?I repeatedly told them that I had no interest in the sports atall. What about music I asked, couldn't they fix it for me to become a musician ? Could they not give me a fixation for the music just as handy as for sport I asked them?
I saw a mighty opportunity to develop some musical talent where none currently existed. At least that way I could waggle my way into a job byond in Galqway. Jaysus they were having none of it though.
To a Professional they said there were enough high flautin Arty types knocking around the country without trying to become one myself.The Commissioner was particularly disinterested in helping me become one of them "fucking Arty types" as he called them. He frothed a little around the mouth when he spoke about the arty set. "There`s no controlling that fucking bunch atall, that lot are just a bunch of commie`s and anarchist’s" he said. The rest of the professionals were in complete agreement with him.It wouldn't be long before the country would be overrun with bloody artists and musicians and a whole range of other deviant types that were not willing to be put under any brand of control.The local councillor put his bit in on the subject of arty types. "There was no accounting for the kind of mood that was sweeping the country and it was all down to the fucking Arty types telling people they had rights and they could stand up for them and fight if they wanted" he said with a touch of anger in his voice. This was not the kind of thinking that the Government wanted to encourage in the people he said, and with what appeared to be my natural leadership ability, the last thing that they wanted to do was to encourage me to infect a whole generation coming up behind me.
No, he said with all the expense the re-programming was going to be costing the state the last thing he needed was to be involved in creating another bloody freethinking gobshitte. On the contrary he said, all those artists were a bloody bunch that should be kept tightly under control and if he had his way he’d have the whole bloody bunch of them rounded up and shot. He could not stand by and let the taxpayer pay for the making of an individual that might well turn around and inspire the citizens to go around fighting for their rights and upsetting the apple cart. They all agreed and said the country was ruined with the mood of Democracy. They were all agreed at least that the last thing I was allowed to become was an Artist of some sort. That made up my mind for me. I decided then and there that some brand of an Artist was exactly what I must set about becoming. Even in the tenderness of my years I could see that this bunch and their likes needed a close eye kept on them if you don't mind. To my mind, if all the Arty types were such a thorn in their side then that was good reason enough to become one of them. As I was never again likely to have the opportunity to become reprogrammed, I figured that I better use the opportunity to fulfil my own desires.
Well, I insisted on having what they called my misdirected and antisocial compulsion directed in a manner that was surely going to be suiting my needs and not theirs. Not that any of them were listening to me. The Druid on the panel of professionals suggested that I might like to develop of fixation on trees. Over the next few hours as the bloody lot of them continued to fight over who was going to decide on what was best for me.
They were incapable of coming to a decision, and more and more began to think that locking me up was the only was to proceed. All the time I was thinking myself that if I didn't come up with some desire of my own they'd have me ruined for life between them. I decided that there was no way I was going to let this bunch of wankers have control over my life and that sometime around that middle of sixth day that the best course of action for me was to get going back to the craggy hillock of a mountain that we called home. I told them in no uncertain terms that I would let them know in due course what I had decided my fixation would be. Well to a professional they were up and screaming blue bloody murder . I had no right to be telling them what to do. They would call the shots they made no bones about telling me. The bloody cheek of me. Who, they wanted to know, did I think I was? That said, they got back to the serious business of fighting among themselves about what was the best thing for me. Curses were flying and the issued threats were scuttling back and forth as they continued to fight among themselves as to who was going to have the authority to impose a fixation on my sick and twisted mind.
While they were huddled in a group among themselves I took the initiative and slowly walked out the door. They were so busy deciding my future that they didn't notice. I hurried out and in no time atall I was making my way out from the town and off beyond into the countryside. I couldn't believe my luck. Though this many long months I had planned my escape from the rocky outcrop that I called home, now was not the time and all I could think of was getting back to the hilly outcrop. At least for the time being. I was a long way from the scraggy rock that gave us our living and the road was long. Drizzle became a down pour as I made my way to the mountain which I could see in the distance. The rain was warm to the touch and though I was becoming increasingly soaked I didn't care.I was at one with the elements .I was invigorated from warm drops of rainwater that fell about and down my face. A sheet of cleansing and holy water. I felt as though I had been reborn a clean and refreshed spirit. In the distance I could see my mountain stand proud. Proud and stubborn, just like its people. Singular in its isolation from the landscape. Vainglorious.It looked through the drizzle and light wind resting on its peak were almost hanging in mid air. Magical mountain. My mountain, I had only to reach it and safety was assured. Walking ever faster into the rain towards the mountain I never heard the siren of the paddy wagon come up behind me. As the paddy wagon ground to a halt the burly sergeant got out and ordered me in. They headed back to the town at the same breakneck speed that they had come upon me with.
As the paddy wagon came upon a particularly tight bend, I realised that the door had not been locked. As the van slowed I made a rush for the door and threw myself to the grass verge with all the might and courage I could muster. Though somewhat shaken upon hitting the ground, I was in good shape overall and didn't appear to have suffered unduly from my escape bid. Like a homing pigeon I instinctively took towards the hills hoping that my youth was going to be an advantage over the desk bound coppers across open ground. Though they started to give chase they quickly gave up and ran back to the van and drove back towards Glory, no doubt to get a posse up to come after me. That didn't worry me unduly, for I knew that the closer I got to the mountain, the greater the chance I would have to make good my escape. I was now a wanted man, a fugitive. In a strange way I felt good about that, proud even. I had little hope of leading a normal life again. At least I was a free man.For now. I planned to stay so. They'd have little hope of recapturing me if I could make it back to the hill. Back there I knew many a safe hideout. I could forage for food, and this time of year, the living would be easy enough on the mountain, for spring was in the air, and the opportunities for hunting and gathering were improving, literally by the day. I was sure that I could survive deep in the bosom of the mountain until I could sort out a permanent escape that would get me to the West.
The fog of sorts descended from the hill to the lowlands and protected me as I walked.I was foot sure even though my I visibility was greatly reduced. The fog that descended from the mountain was to me almost a veil of love, a returning to the womb of the land that had conceived me, sheltered and protected me through years of my childhood. I was just a chap, but nonetheless now a fugitive from justice. I had been cast into the role of criminal, and would forever now be treated as an adult. Somehow, the veil of fog was as a last protection that the mountain had to offer to me before I was cast abroad in the role of desperate criminal. My childhood was over, I was now a man. I had arrived at the door of adult life by default. There was no turning back. My destiny had begun. I had no choice but to follow the path that the Gods had laid out for me. I was as a leaf in the wind of chance. I could only make slow progress in the deep fog and eventually I decided to call it a day. I found a wee bit of a hide out and went to ground, cold and hungry, but free and happy and decided that I could go no further for a few days until I could contact my buddies to get me food and fresh clothes. That first night went slowly. By the second and third days the Police were active going hither and thither in a vain search for me. I could see them driving around the mountain from my vantage point but I knew that they would lose interest quickly enough and hurry back to the comfort of policing from their desks. They made a point of disturbing the whole populace of the hill that I called home and warned of severe penalties for anybody suspected of harbouring me. Not that threats from a bunch of lowlanders was going to cut ice up the hill. Some days afterwards I spotted some of my previous disciples on the hill. Though I was no longer their high priest they did not shy away and appeared delighted to see me. My followers were if nothing else loyal. My followers bought with them a small supply of food and promised to get more substantial supplies to me as soon as the cops had winded down their search. They were combing the area, but they had no success, and more importantly, the locals had closed ranks. Even those who thought I was mad as a crow recognised that I was one of their own,. They would have no truck with the lowlander police whom they despised.I was particularly delighted to see that Mc Carthy was among the group. He was turning out to be the right champion altogether. Fair man he was indeed. He filled me in on the entire goings on concerning my flight from Justice. Their justice. My escape had caused had caused no end of excitement. Even outlying districts had heard. It appeared that there was plenty of sympathy for me. All and sundry up the hill were of the opinion that the assorted professionals had no business what so ever trying to reprogram my mind. There was no love of interfering professionals up our district, nor indeed at any of the outlying districts .The public mood was on my side. It appears that people had forgiven me the outlandish behaviour of the cult thing. The local populace had decided that it was, after all only youthful foolishness, and not quiet as demonic as they might have first suspected.
The wave of sympathy for my cause was gratifying and kept my spirits high during the hard and cold nights that I spent up on the hill. I was never short of company after those first few days. It appears that I was becoming some sort of a hero. I even found myself signing autographs for some of my followers. Over the next few days so many of my former disciples came to visit that I had to insist that they stop for fear that they give the game away. Many bought offerings of food and flasks of tea. During the day the lowlander’s police force made a great show of combing the mountain side to flush me out. At nigh , the uplands belonged to me. Eventually, the whole district got sick and tired of them tearing up and down the mountain hither and thither. The lowlanders however appeared reluctant to let the matter drop. Father Mac eventually complained about the carry on of the guards to their superintendent. They got all thick about the whole matter. They were determined to throw the book at me. Something about wounded pride I believe. Father Mac went to the Bishop who made his own approaches to the Superintendent to see if they would call it a day and just let the whole matter slip quietly without anyone having to lose face. Well, they took further exception to the Bishop getting involved and quietly made it clear that they wanted to give me a good kick up the backside for having the temerity to escape and make them look fools.
They said that they wanted to sort me out or words to that effect. They continued their intensive searching for a number of days after that, just to make the point that no one was going to be telling them what to do. But as time went on they realised that they were never going to break the spirit of the highlanders, until gradually they searched less and less. McCarthy heard that the lowlanders were sick and tired running around the mountain and were all but ready to forget the whole thing . just as long as they didn't see light nor sight of me down in Glory for a month of Sundays to come. One day they stopped coming altogether and I could finally move about and start in earnest making my plans to escape West, where I knew my destiny to be. The oulwan got to hear that I was going to escape over to the West. She was having none of it though. She told McCarthy to tell me to get the Hell home or she’d come up the mountain to take me back home by the scruff of the neck. Well you couldn't argue with that kind of logic could you? The thought of the oulwan put the fear of God in me- more than the lowlander cops ever could. It looked as if I was not going to be escaping over to the west for a while. Perhaps it was just as well. The West wasn't going anywhere. That much I knew.
Before I knew it I was away back at my books and homework. Heading on towards doing the leaving certificate for the third time. That was some come down from the life of high adventure that I had been living. I would be struck to hanging around the highlands, for the lowland cops would have some manner of attitude towards me, that much I did know. No matter how forgiving they might publicly claim to be, they would be waiting to have a go at me at the earliest opportunity. I would have to watch my back from some considerable time to come. Soon enough, despite my worst fears life had returned to normal. Indeed, it wasn't long before I could barely remember my time away on the mountain. The upside of it all was that far from getting a right oul slagging the carryon was more to treat me as some brand of a hero. Well, Alice Maher started to take a bit of an interest in me again can you believe? By all accounts, they had all heard about the Cult of the Horn as they were now calling it locally. The long and short of the whole Cult thing is that is that it did me no harm whatsoever among the local young wans. The affair had raised my profile down in Glory and a few offers to social gatherings from the Arty set finally came my direction. All the arty set would no doubt delight in the rebellious nature of my recent past and the outlaw tag didn't hurt one little bit
Needless to say I was delighted with myself, and despite the dangers of the police getting hold of me I decided that it was foolish not to get down to Glory to bask in the ...well, Glory , that was apparently waiting for me. McCarthy came along as my trusted lieutenant when we made our first few tentative excursions down to the arty circles. I felt it only right that McCarthy should be there, a reward for his unswerving service during the crisis that was the cult incident. We were celebs of a sort now down in Glory, though we had to be careful that we didn't get caught by the local cop’s. They would not be long finding some way of making life difficult for us. They would be a long time forgetting the fool’s they had been made to look. I made it known to the Arty set that I had a wish to be a musician, for I felt that to stay in tune with this lot I had to be seen to engage in some sort of creative activity. I had no musical skills to speak of, but I did not see this as a great problem. I was sure that I could bash a few beats on an ould bodhran. It was a simple enough looking drum that I didn’t think would take too much skill to play. As luck would have it, through the people that I met I was offered an opportunity to practice with the local trad band.I was delighted. Finally I appeared to have cracked the inner circle of the Arty set in Glory, and finally I had been given the opportunity to prove my worth as a member of the creative community down. I duly went along a few time’s for a practice session with the band, and they were so impressed with my natural ability that they weren't long about letting me know that there would be a place for me in the band once I had developed my skills to a sufficient level. I was delighted with myself as you can imagine, for I had already decided to make music my life and I needed as much practice as I could possibly get before making my way over West. On a more serious note, I was sure that it would not be long now before my status as a cult leader and band member would get me shagged. Having said that, I had still singularly had little or no success to talk about. Less no success than little if the truth was told.
I adopted a sulky attitude and went around trying to be dark and mysterious projecting myself as some manner of a rebel type. The girls loved a rebel musician by all accounts. And with Alice Maher floating around again, perhaps she might just be the one to oblige in the love department. I spent many hours wandering the streets of Glory trying to accidentally bump into suitable shagging prospects. Even though this was precious time I should have been using to practice my music, I had no doubt but that I had a natural affinity for percussion instruments meant that I didn’t need to rehearse. Well, having replaced one spiritual experience for another in the form of music there was little doubt that the gift of the music was my true disposition. I could play all manner of percussion implements with little or no practice. I had recently started bashing away on a drum kit. I found that I had a natural affinity to play. Not that well, I must confess. But I did have the makings of a very fine player . I just needed to get out on stage and learn that way. I must admit I was enjoying my new obsession. Playing a musical instrument was vastly preferable to running around the side of the hills chanting the prayer for the protection of livestock. God works in mysterious ways, wha?
The playing of the Bodhran anther fine replacement for the sexual frustration that had once dominated my every waking hour. It was surely a much more healthy activity.I did have to practise that . The traditional goatskin instrument was much more difficult that the drums. It took some mastery to get the hang of the difficult instrument. Hour after hour I would practice up in my bedroom until the oulwan got sick and bloody tired of it. I was then banished to the barn. Well I thumped the living shitte outta that poor instrument, all but knackering myself into the bargain .There was no end of quality in my playing I was happy to note. I was confident that I would make a valuable contribution to the band once they had signed me up permanently to work the lucrative pub and club circuit. There was however an obstacle in my way. The path was not clear. The band already had a bodhran player and they didn’t need anybody on drums. I had been allowed to sit in on rehearsals because the main Bodhran player was away on his holidays .Having done a few rehearsals with the band I had hoped that with my reputation as something of a local cult figure that the sheer force of my charisma and quality of my Bodhran playing would make the band see sense and drop the other fellow and take me on instead. I was surprised when they made it clear that once the other fellow was back I would not even be getting invited to practice at the renersals. One bodhran was nearly one too many a few of them said to me. Well that was a fine attitude.
Me mind got to working and I took the decision that I would have to open the way for myself. I was a hill tribes person, and when things got in our way there was only one solution, and that was to get rid of the competition. I know that might sound a little harsh, but there was nothing else for it, and at the end of the day, the whole region considered our lot up the mountain to be an immoral bunch anyway, so nothing we would do would surprise them atall. I was destined to be a musician, of that I was sure. I could not allow anyone, or anything to stand in my way. That much I did know. Thick we may be from where I come, but stupid we are not.
I thought long and hard about the alternatives that were open to me to secure my position in the band. I decided the best course of action was to sneak up behind that fellow who had my job and attack him, and hopefully injure him enough that his days of playing the happy drummer were going to be over. I’m sure that we could open our doors for him on occasion to come back now and again for a tribute performance and for a brief appearance on special occasions , like the anniversary of the night he was attached and lost the use of his stick playing arm. Or Christmas. That sort of thing. Now and again in other words. More again than now if I had any say in the matter. The fact that he would by then be disabled would be a good thing for the band as we could benefit from being seen for our obvious charity towards the weak and disabled. I`d have to make sure that he was taken out of the game for good, for it was no use having him looking to get back into the band in a few months time.
A few thumps on his Bodhran playing arm would do the job and keep him out of the game. I had not decided how exactly I was going to deliver my attack, but one way or another his days were numbered in the band. There was a big gig coming up soon and if I could get him out of circulation before that I was sure that would be the opportunity for me to make my mark on the band and its public as a musician of quality. I spent a few days tracking his movements and duly picked a suitable day and time where I though I had the best opportunity for taking him out of the game. Sure enough, one evening my opportunity came as I spotted him coming out of his local, alone and with the obvious look of someone with a few pints on him.
I gave him an almighty lash of the great stick that I had bought along for the job. He put up a little resistance and I ended up knocking him out, but judging by the state of him when I left the scene of the crime, he was not going to be bothering me for competition in the foreseeable future. Well, the long and the short of it was that I made the band for the next gig. I was to take yermans place for the duration of his hospitalization. It appears that the rat poison I’d dipped the bit of an oul stick in before I bashed him had caused an infection to set in. I did mention the rat poison to you dear reader did I not? I’d only used the poison in case I hadn't been able to get a good lash at him and only scratched him. Just a little extra insurance. I can assure you that it was with some regret that some weeks later that the surgeons up in Dublin hadn't been able to save the arm. Your man`s Bodhran playing days were over. I was truly sorry for the chap, he had been a very fine musician by all accounts. However, I had to think of my self and was delighted at the opportunity that the amputation was going to present to me. Yerman was in a sorry state of the blues on account of it. Eventually he topped himself. I was very sorry to hear that too, but he wasn't goingto be much use to the music industry with one arm, so he was probably just as well off dead. There was every chance that he would just become one of those whingy oul buggars who clog up good seats in pubs moaning about what could have been. The music industry is full of oul characters like that by all accounts..
However,I couldn't dwell on the matter. Yer man`s fate was nothing to me. If he hadn’t been in my way, he wouldn't have ended up dead. I never meant for that to happen. I only wanted to get an oul start. Dear reader, you must believe me when I say that It’s far from murdering people I was reared. But what is done is done. The cop’s did a bit of an investigation and apparently your man had a neighbour that he didn't get on with. The neighbour was eventually charged, but the cops could never make the thing stick. In the end the whole matter was dropped quietly. The musician wasn't very popular locally anyhow. Few mourned his passing except his widow and seven children. Thankfully my name never came up in the enquiry.
But when I first go my go after his initial hospitalisation I had lots of work to do in For the time being I had I spent hours developing my skills for my first big debut performance that was coming up. That performance would be the start of a new life. The babes would soon be flocking around me. I was sure my arrival on the professional music scene was to be the moment of my triumph when I would finally get a shag from some stary eyed wan. I figured I was due pulling a babe that would go "all the way". I certainly couldn't be taken seriously as a musician if I was still a virgin. As the day of the gig drew closer I grew all excited and was barely able to contain my self at the prospect. We were to have a half an hour in the middle of the Farmers annual dance.
As far as pulling the ladies was concerned, apparently the lads in the band were saying that the Ellen pipe player was the chap that scored most. On account all the girls thought that the pipes were something sexy.Not that I could see that atall.To me they looked a right mess. I`d have to be watching yerman allright. There was only room for one charismatic entertainer on the stage and I was determined that be man. Finally the big night came, and at the first opportunity I let rip away at the oul bodhran.I could almost feel the waves of admiration wafting over me as the hall full of thick oul farmery yokels sat gobsmacked at the sheer mastery of my music. I had them sucking my music for the soul, like diesel in an oul truck.
Well by fuck I was enjoying myself no end. Givin it socks to beat the band. Not stopping to spare the horse. Out of the corner of my eye, and in the midst of all my glory I spotted Alice Maher on the dance floor with a few girlfriends. She was not with any fellow as far as I could see. I’d have to make bloody sure the pipe player didn't get to her first. I was sure that I was in with a chance. I was also sure that I was getting a few glad eyes from her, though it was hard to tell with Alice, and of course I was all but wrapped up in my music. I was smug with self satisfaction as the group came to the last number of our set. I knew that I alone had stood out. I was sure they had never heard the likes of me beating the Bodhran before. I could see the other musicians were having to really pull out the finger to keep up with me. I was delighted at their discomfort Some of the older fellows looked positively knackered - and I thought they were supposed to be real musicians .
They were not as good as they thought they were. Then something odd happened. The music stopped. All the band, in one mind came to a simultaneous halt in their playing. All but me. The audience looked up at the band stunned.I was stunned too, they were according me the single honour of a solo, on this, my first night. They audience were obviously mesmerized by the honour that the band had bestowed upon me as they appreciated my solo performance with jaw dropping admiration. My big moment. I had made it, and everybody knew it.
What happened next remains still somewhat unclear to me. But before I knew of it, I was lying on the floor and the band leader, was, it appeared , trying to choke me. I was gobsmacked. Was he jealous of my talent I wondered as I saw death approach. I could literally feel myself going blue. The audience were cheering and clapping. I couldn't understand what had gone so terribly wrong. Why I was receiving such a reaction? In between trying to choke me the band leader said that he had never in all his days as a musician been in a trad band that was led by a Bodhran player. So that was it. The percussion was supposed to follow and not lead.
I knew my performance had gone a little askew at that moment. Just how askew it had gone I realised when all the assorted members of the band grabbed me bodily and flung me out the rear exit of the hall. I had never had anything go so wrong in my life. I had never been so out a kilter with the ways of the world. I felt desperate and was sure there was no hope for me atall. The ending of my music career before it had even started had left me a public spectacle that the whole town would be talking about. For years, if not decades to come. I Knew that I would have to get the Hell away from the oul homeland now. This was truly the final straw, just when I thought that things were starting to look bright for the future. Whatever the future was to hold it appeared that it was to be held somewhere else. Staying around these parts was not to be in my destiny. However bad that Moment was, worse was to come .
As I lay on the ground I saw the lovely vision of Alice Maher standing over me. Right about that moment I wanted to die "You allright Johnny? Ye bleedin spacer," She laughed. Her too, against me, just like all the rest.I had expected much better from Alice if for no other reason than our brief romantic encounter.
"What does it fuckin look like, of course I’m not bleedin alright".
"Oh Jesus Johnny, I thought you were mighty up there," She said. “That was the funniest sight that I had ever seen,” She continued "that bunch of stale oul gobshittes nearly had heart attacks trying to keep up with you. It was mighty I tell you, that was the best crack I ever had at one of those bloody oul farmers do`s. Jaysus I’ll come back again if they give you a job in the band".
"Well there’s no fear of that after tonight, I don't think they liked my style,” I said as I tried to put a brave face on things. "Shur that's only because they haven’t got any style themselves. There was more life in your bodhran drum banging up there than the bloody rest of the geriatric oul cronies put together.".
"Jaysus, I’m feckin ruined altogether. I suppose I`ll not get paid either."
"I wouldn't think so,” agreed Alice.
"Every feckin bone in me body is aching," I said as I picked myself up and dusted off the excess humiliation as best as I could.
"C’mon" she said, I’ve something that’ll take away the pain and put a smile on your face".
"Oh?", I was curious. "Lets go over to McAllisters barn,” she said as she led the way.

CHAPTER 4
When we had broken into the barn through a window Alice and I were all alone. She was looking the topper altogether. I could hardly hold myself back for the sight of her, especially when she took off her trench coat and spread it one the ground for both of us to sit on.
I made small talk trying to figure out if I should chance my arm and kiss her. I must have been frothing at the mouth and she was doubtless noticing it. She said she had some nice gear which by this time of my life I’d come to understand was the oul pot. She sparked up a "joint" and took a few long drags and then she passed it to me. Thankfully I could just about hold down the smoke without giving myself a dose of coughing. I was determined not to look like the total novice that I was and I even managed to take another drag or two before I had to give up the thing and pass it back to her. Alice appeared to be amused at the obvious discomfort that the pot was causing me. Truth to tell, I could not really see what people saw in the stuff atall, it just made me feel a bit odd and sick.
Finally, when the joint was finished Alice looked into my eyes, and I into hers. Then she made the decision for the both of us and reached out to kiss me. Our lips met and we tenderly kissed. And kissed again and kissed deeper. She wasn't as shy as I had remembered her and she quickly had her hand rubbing against the front of my trousers.
"Oh , Johnny,” she groaned as I instinctively popped her breasts from the black bra that she was wearing. I started to kiss her breasts, and lick the edge of her nipples until they became hard, and the all time the frustration was boiling up between my legs. She continued to rub the cause of all my troubles until I could feel the swelling harder and harder. This was nothing like Brother Declan had ever thought us, and no matter what the priests had said about everything to do with sex being wrong and evil, this felt so right that I suddenly realised that the crap the priests and brothers had been going on with all that time was only doled out in their own interests as they weren't getting any so they didn't want anybody else enjoying themselves either. I was at least finally sure that I had finally been cured of my previous perversion with holy objects , and any last doubts that I had were quenched when Alice opened my trousers and frustration bounced out with a life of its own.
"Oh my God Jonhnny , its hugh," she gasped as she took hold of the offending article. I was devastated dear reader as you can imagine. I had always known that there was something wrong in that department, and now Alice had confirmed that too me. It was an unnatural thing that I was born with. I was an outcast that was to carry the burden of deformity with me for the rest of my days. I just wanted to be normal like every one else. I was so devastated that I just wanted to give up there and then. I was destined to live my life as a freak, of that I was now sure.
Alice however didn't appear to mind touching and stroking the deformed frustration. On the contrary, she appeared to be entranced by the hugh ugly thing, ever hardening and bulging from my body almost as if it had a life of its own. However my natural instincts got the better of me and I started to explore her magnificent body as gradually she parted her legs and let me run my hands over her soft mound - gently and slowly at first , but quickly my passion was roused, as obviously was hers. It wasn't long before she was massaging me in places I had never been massaged before, and I was doing my best to rub and caress her in places I had never fully explored either. I hoped that I was doing all right. I felt almost an instinct for what I was doing and the groans coming out of her told me that I must be doing something right. The mound between her legs was getting wetter by the minute and she gyrated and moaned with pleasure at my caressing.I was completely lost in her. All the while she was rubbing her leg over my thigh and holding me firm and steady gently massaging the thing until she could contain herself no longer and she threw off her underwear. I struggled to take off my clothes and soon we were both playing with each other, bold as brass and naked as the day we were born. It was a mighty feeling I can tell you dear reader, and somehow, perhaps without really knowing, instinct took over and I somehow knew exactly what it was that I was supposed to do.
All of a sudden she straddled me and took hold of my bulging frustration while she lowered herself down on my frustration until it went slowly and deeply into her. She moved up and down, groaning with each move deeper and deeper inside her. She was almost grimacing in pain. " Oh Jesus Johnny , its so big. It’s so big" she complained. Thankfully the size didn’t appear to bother her too much. I instinctively pushed and pulled my frustration back and forth in and out of the warm and wet parting between her legs, as slowly and ever harder she moved herself up and down on top of me until I was so deep in her I thought I was going to do damage. Pounding deeper and deeper into her I was quickly getting the hang of the job, and the level of pleasure that I was feeling was beyond anything that I would ever have expected possible. Then the moment of pure ecstasy came as the ugly and deformed tool between my legs released itself deep inside her. She was frenzied by this time and we both pounded into until we both relaxed into a spasm of relief that was beyond any feeling of pleasure that I could ever have imagined.The eye’s were literally popping out our heads as we both screamed and shouted at the top of our lungs in what appeared to have been an equally intense moment for her, from what I could gather. I must have been doing something right?
I had never felt anything like this during the period of the Cult of the spontaneous eruption. I had never known such intensity. Even though Alice Maher was after taking advantage of me I have to confess that I enjoyed every minute of it. Shur I was just a poor ignorant country boy, and what did I know of the ways of the world. Afterwards we lay exhausted but happy. I hoped that I had satisfied her. I believe that was what the women are looking for in a sexual experience. Satisfaction. What exactly it was that satisfied them was beyond me, but apparently you knew quickly enough when they were unsatisfied.I had no idea how I was to find out if I had done things to her satisfaction. Before I had time to consider the question too deeply, she took out an oul joint and we lay together smoking and losing ourselves in each others company.
"Your some fuck Johnny, you're the best I’ve ever had,” she confessed to me after a while.I didn't know what to say. Having only just escaped from the clutches of virginity and I certainly couldn't be described as having a technique or whatever it was the older lads were constantly on about. "You're the best I’ve ever had too Alice", I replied, not quite sure if indeed this was the thing to say. She laughed. I couldn't believe that she would laugh at me, a poor insecure gombeen country boy that had just lost his virginity.
"Jaysus Johnny, do you think I didn't know you were a Virgin. That's why I wanted to be the first to have a go at the whopping great cock of yours," said Alice with a cheeky grin.
Whopping Cock. Why was she so constantly on about that? I had never heard a woman speak out in such bold and filthy language before. "How do you know I’m a virgin?” I asked, amazed at the things women were capable of knowing about a fellow.
"Jaysus Johnny, we girls keep a watchful eye of the progress of the few hopefuls around here."
"God knows there's few enough around here that's worth the bother. All talk and no action most of them are. You on the other hand Johnny are all action and little talk, which is a good combination. And of course, your tool is well bigger than the average.
"And how exactly do you know that I’m, aah bigger than average?"
I hadn’t forgotten that wee grope we had a few years back Johnny.I didn't realise it at the time but when I was going out with the feckin college type I realised you were a big boy Johnny. I heard stories from all the lad`s in the cult. They confirmed that you were a big lad, in every way".
"So, not all…frustrations are the…same …the same size ?" I tentatively questioned. Though the cult had been associated somewhat with physical display, we being a modest people did not spend our time looking at the other chaps you can be sure. We were of high moral stature and looking at the activities of other members of the group was not something that we would have thought about in any way. "Well, usually they don't vary much,but I must say that you have a fine tool of pleasure there Johnny, so don't you be forgetting me even if you get a girlfriend. Promise me you`ll give me the odd oul servicing, promise me that?" she begged.
I of course promised. It didn't seem too hard a thing to agree to. It was for the lack of it these past few years I had been, I would of course be more than happy to take up any offers that were put my way, at any time that they were put my way. I was also somewhat astounded by what she had said, for I was also under the impression that she was now my mot. I mean, she would hardly have slept with me if she didn't want to be my girlfriend? However, she was talking to me about me finding a girlffriend. She didn't appear to consider that she was my girlfriend. I was confused. Surely she would not be having sex with me, unless she wanted to be my girlfriend? Was releasing the frustration not the act that bought us together as boyfriend and girlfriend? I was obviously mistaken, for her attitude was somewhat different to mine. Then it dawned on me at that moment that she was just using me for her own pleasure. She had sex with me just because she wanted to notch up an experience with someone who had an abnormally large implement. That was it, she had just used me. I couldn’t believe it . "How dare she" was all I could think, how dare she treat me like a sex object. I had never expected that sort of carryon from a good Irish Catholic Girl. She had only wanted me because she was out to amuse herself.
I quickly realised that I was just a circus act and that she could boast afterwards that to her friends that she had been the first to have me. She would no doubt be laughing away that I was just some aberration with an appendage of huge proportions. I was only desirable because I was unlike every other young chap in the town. The only thing that I ever wanted in life was to be like everybody else, and now here was I realising that the only thing that I was ever doomed to be in life was a freak. A weirdo, always different, always attracting attention because I was different. All I ever wanted to do was be like every one else. It appeared that I was incapable of achieving this ambition one way or another. No matter what I did I got thing’s wrong. I was a freak of nature it would appear, and likely to remain so for the foreseeable future. I wanted to leave Alice and go off back up to the homestead. I didn't want to hear any more from her, nor did I relish the thought of appearing back down the town by the time that Alice Maher had spread word around about me, and the whole world knew that I was just a freak. However, I held my ground lest she think that I was even weirder than I was already. The gist of the whole thing was that I realised that I had only one thing that women were only interested in one thing that I had to offer.
It was a hard knock at a tender age to discover that woman were only going to be after me for my body. I thought I had more to offer than that. Then again, I hid a hope that Alice Maher might not be representative of all woman kind. But secretly I think even in that moment of utter despair that Alice spoke a truth that I was going to come upon again and again in my dealings with the fair sex. For one thing was for sure, and confirmed for me by what Alice had let slip - the women were great ones for talking to each other. I was to be marked out as some brand of an ugly freak. I’d be talked about as a weirdo for the rest of my days. All I was ever going to be wanted for was the pleasure that I was going to be able to give to a woman. A tool of pleasure. A pleasure machine if you will. That's all that I was going to be the ladies of the world.
People already thought that I was weird in the head. Now they were going to know I was also weird of body. Anyway, I wasn't going to let Alice see that I was so put out. Despite wanting to run away back to the highlands where I could take solace among my own, I held my ground and let on not to have a care in the world.Alice lit up another oul joint. It was marijuana I was told. Commonly called grass. She had robbed the pot from her father who had confiscated it from a local youth in the line of duty. He was the local Sergeant. He had left some of the evidence on the kitchen table while processing the charge sheet. I took a few drags on the thing, but that only made me feel as if the world was closing in on me, and I started to feel a little dizzy and I could not stay around there any longer. I left her without as much as a by or leave, and was on my way in double quick time, for the whole event was getting the better of me with the effects of the pot. She called after me, but I was having none of it, and headed off on the road towards home with me Bodhran on me back and my spirits down despite the fact that I had just lost my virginity. I decided that I would have to escalate my plans to escape. I could not consider staying around for much longer if every body thought I was not only a freak in the head but a freak in the body as well. There was no hope for me atall t seemed. No hope atall.
The oul mood of despondency stayed on me for a good few days. I grew angry at the thought that I was to be only as a tool of pleasure for every wan that wouldn't otherwise look at me side ways. They'd always only want me for what I could do for them. No woman was ever going to love me for myself. I gradually grew to accept that life had bestowed on me a double burden, the peasant nature of my upbringing and the aberration that dangled between my legs. Bad enough to be from the stock of a small hill farmer with the connotations of dreary and bog thick muckerism that would inevitably confer on me without having to also worry about the fact that I was also a freak of nature. How I was going to live with the fact of my deformation as well?I just didn't know. I didn't go back to the lowlands for a week or two -letting on to be out of sorts. I was so miserable trying to figure out why the world had me so hard done by that I didn't stop for a minute to consider to congratulate myself that I was no longer a virgin. McCarthy showed up some days later having got some inkling that I was a bit down in the dumps. He had tracked me down to one of my favourite hideaways, a place that I had run a way to have peace and quiet.
"Jaysus Dickson, there’s great crack beyond in Glory. The whole town heard you got an oul ride offa tha` Maher wan. They all think its funny she had any time for you atall, " says McCarthy.
"The whole town, well that's great, that's just bloody marvellous that is," I replied disconcertedly.
"Well every one around here knows every bit about your shagging business now I can tell you,” says McCarthy cheering me up no end.
I thanked McCarthy for reminding me of just now fucked up my life was.
McCarthy didn't appear to be the least bit put out by the fact that the whole of the local community was having a great gossip at my expense. The whole world was yandering on relentlessly about my newly enhanced status as a member of the shagging classes. McCarthy had a very philosophical attitude about the whole thing and considered it a badge of success that the local community was in any way interested in my sexual exploits atall.
"Jaysus Dickson, Shur isn’t it better that everybody is talking about you than not talking about you? For Jaysus sake, doesn’t everyone in a place like this know every bit of your business any way,so why do you think they wouldn't be interested in your shagging business as well , wha?”
McCarthy had an irritating way of accepting the poke nosiness of the peasant mind that I would have no truck with. McCarthy continued to point out what he perceived to be the positive aspect’s of the whole town knowing my business. He continued "Well, everyone who’s anyone now knows that your not a virgin any more and what the topper to have the first oul shag with wha? Tell us what was it like then? Did you feel the earth move? Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen? Well, she musta been the goer altogether that's for sure I` d say. Will you not fill us in on all the gory the details atall?" requested McCarthy with a tone of desperation in his voice. McCarthy had a hard neck.
I was having nothing to do with his request for all the intimate details however, and I let him know that in no uncertain terms. "Fuck off would you, I don't want to talk about it, I told him straight.
Mc Carthy was enjoying my obvious discomfort however. "Ah don't be like that you miserable bastard. Cheer up. I’ve a little present from Alice Maher." He handed me my jocks. I was mortified. I only had the two pairs, so it wasn't hard to know I was missing a pair. I hadn't expected them to arrive back to me this way though I can tell you. Every bog peasant in the town had probably already had a good laugh and a gawk at them. The whole town laughing at my expense. That was just dandy altogether.
McCarthy also produced one of them oul joints. Another present from Alice he said. McCarthy lit up the thing and we sat there sharing a moment of drug induced euphoria and a strange sense of oneness with the elements. After a few good blasts of the oul joint the narcotic effects took hold. I felt a deep connection with the bit of outcropping rock we were sitting on. So much so that soon I was quite literally unable to move, or indeed to speak. Eventually I had become concerned that I was never going to get up off the bit of oul granite. The rock seemed to have taken my very core of existence into itself. I wanted to stay there forever. Stoned and uncaring about world. Stoned and uncaring that I was a freak. Stoned away from the realities of my terrible existence. I thought that I could just stay there and over time I would just starve to death and return to the womb of the world that had cast me forth a freak.
About that time McCarthy came to his senses and he wasn't long about getting me up and shaking the cobwebs offa me. That moment of bonding that we had shared gave me a semblance of trust in McCarty and I decided to run my little problem by McCarthy who was a apparently not a virgin this long time.
"McCarthy , listen buyo , I’ve something to tell you," says I. McCarthy was all ears.
"I`m an aberration McCarthy."
"Ah Jaysus chappie, it’s only stoned you are," says he.
Mc Carthy just wasn't listening. "Would you ever listen up, I’m, well, I’m an aberration in the you know- what department." I didn't have the language to explain the depths of my situation..McCarthy looked confused.
"Don't you understand McCArthy, that's the only reason the Maher took advantage of me the other night. She wanted was a go of my aberration. I have a hugh aberration, Tool ...whatever you like to call it."Whatever an aberration may be, does it matter why she wanted a go of your lad? It’s hardly for the experience she was coming to you, is it now?
"But you don't understand, she only wants me because I’m a freak".
"How exactly does this freakdom manifest itself Dickson?"
"Well, it appears that I`m, well a freak in the size department".
"Would that be a big freak or a small freak then, Dickson?” McCarthy enquired.
I told him truthfully of the gigantean proportions that I was cursed with. I was not very happy with the reaction of him when he burst the Hell out laughing. I was not happyatall.
"Bygod Dickson, do you understand nothing about the oul women atall. Sher apparently that's all they want is a big dick. They don't care anything for the man atall from what I’m told as long as they can get a good oul shag. Sher most of them hate men any way, they only want us for the oul ride after a night out with the girls in the pub and are feeling smutty from talking about nothing but sex all night. Most of them would rather spend their days sitting around praying and watching the afternoon television. Sher your problem is not that you'll not be getting any atall Dickson. No my friend, it’s that you'll be getting too much I’d say. You'll not be able to stop for the want of it I can tell you once Alice Maher gets her gob about the town".
"But you don't understand McCarthy, I’m a freak. No woman will ever love me, can't you see that?"
McCarthy had put a whole other spin on the thing for me. And he was a lot wiser in the ways of the world than I was ever likely to be. If he was correct my aberration was a good thing, not a bad thing as I had previously supposed. I didn't know what to do atall, what course of action to take, or how to handle this newly delivered news.

I had gotten myself used to the fact that I was never going to have a woman again. Now it looked like I was going to have to deal with the problem of fighting them off. There was nothing for it but to test the waters and get down to Glory to see what the lie of the land was. McCarthy said he’d go with me. He was hoping to pick up any stray action so convinced was he that once word got out , half the ladies in Glory would be sitting around waiting for what he called a servicing. A servicing from me, no less. I said that I didn't care tupenny toss why he came along but if they were all laughing and jeering we were straight outta there. Well, as soon as we had the tea over we headed straight off down to Glory.
Well, word had gotten around by all accounts for a bunch of lads were quick to pass comment to McCarthy and I as we were passing on our way into Glory. It was a worry that all the lads had gotten to hear what was between my legs. They were quick to tell me to stay away from their women. That was only the start of it though I was sure. I began to think that McCarthy was right when he said that it was more, not less popular I was going to be with the ladies. If these lads were so threatened by what I appeared to have that would attract the ladies, that too seemed to confirm the correctness of the McCarthy line in the matter of the aberration. The lads in question angled up to me and McCarthy , and before I knew it a few thumps had been thrown and I was dodging blows , thumps and kicks from all quarters.
McCarthy and I looked like we were going to get the bejaysus kicked outta us when Jennie Murray appeared on the scene and made it perfectly clear to the lads, whom she knew well that she was with me and that was the end if it. Well, that put the local youths on notice and they behaved themselves not wanting to look like the yobs that they were in front of their own women. Jennie Murray was literally hanging on to me as we walked towards the pub where we had decided to go for a pint. Well it was I can tell you a low point to have been rescued by a woman. Well we went to the pub for the night and no sooner had the pub shut up than Jennie suggested that we make our way over to the old barn. Without McCarthy she made known in no uncertain terms.
We were barely the minute in there when she was groping and kissing me, and before I knew what was happening she had the knickers offa her.
She grabbed the magnificent lad and was soon pulling the long hard shaft with all her might as she looked non stop at the size of the thing. She kept looking and gasping in admiration while we were kissing and groping every bit of each others body. Soon she had the frustration hard as a rock and she bent over and insisted I take her from behind. Well I wasn't sure what she meant, but Instinct took its hold when she turned and raised her buttocks, almost pulsating with desire. I pushed the tip of the tool of aberration between her sweet wet parting and could feel her frustration releasing as soon as the long hard throbbing object pushed deeper and deeper inside her.
Well the screams of pleasure that did come outta her were something else to behold. I could barely fit all the frustration into her, and this it appears is exactly what they all were looking for, something that could fill them fully, and fuck them hard, as she kept asking me to do. I wasn’t sure if I was doing that, but she didn't appear to be complaining.
Though she was grimacing with pain and gasping in discomfort as I slid the long hard object of my throbbing frustration deeper and deeper into her slippery wet love hole, all the while demanding that I don't stop, and fuck her harder as she instructed. How correct Mc Carthy had been I now realised when he said that I was going to have my hands full with every young wan in Glory out looking for an oul shag offa me. I couldn't have possibly have guessed the magnitude of the interest in me aberration until Jennie Murray had pounced on me as she had done. I was beginning to get some manner of a clue by this time that my future was going to be busy servicing young wans. However, I stopped rambling with my thoughts and got back to the serious business of looking after Jennie Murray. Darling Jennie Murray, how sweet she was.
Deeper and deeper I pushed and shoved as best as I could and trust back and forth with all my might. Jennie kept turning back to me with a mixture of admiration and sheer disbelief. She was by now holding tight onto a beam of timber. Her back arched to meet my every push deeper and deeper into her. She spread her legs as wide as she could to accommodate the sheer volume of my tool, and in time her knees began to buckle under the sheer force of my pounding.
"Fuck me you bogman, c`mon, fuuuuuck me till I scream you peasant bastard," screamed Jenny.
And she such a nice girl I couldn't help thinking. God knows where she got language like that from. After only having lost my virginity so soon before, I was making a fine job of Jenny with a good seeing too as I think they called the servicing. I had an instinctive feel for the whole thing I can tell you. Finally, after much more heaving and hoeing the frustration was shot deep into her waiting wet and juicy love hole. We were both shouting for the pure ecstasy of the moment and we gyrated together for a moment in complete union. After we had done the business we fell about in an exhausted heap but it wasn't long before she wanted more. I was called upon again to perform a duty of service to the lovely lady and find the strength within the depth of my loins to again enter her and trust and gyrate with all the strength my young body could summon a second and eventually a third and forth time. Even that wasn't enough to satisfy her until I was no longer able to keep going for the pure rawness of the tool of impure actions.
Unknown to me McCarthy had been watching the whole thing from the side lines through a crack in the wall. The cheeky buggar had followed us from Glory. When he told me later I was less than amused, but as he said, he had to confirm for himself if what I said was true or not. That night was the start of a regular series of meetings that we would have with a variety of young wans, which inevitably ended up in the barn.
Well, weeks and months rolled by myself and McCarthy surely had the lashing of all of the fine young wans in the town in the town of Glory. And a few not so fine ones to boot, for we felt it our duty to pass the benefits of my aberration on to all the ladies in the town without recourse to partiality one way or another. McCarthy had of course been with me in the halcyon days of the frustration cult, and so it was only right that he should benefit from the honey pot of allure that I attracted.Indeed only for McCarthy I might not have ventured out in to the world again thinking my aberration was a curse, and not the blessing that it turned out to be.
Now, before long dear reader, I had grown comfortable with my position as a superstud down byond in Glory, and increasingly also in our own townland. The fellows from both jurisdictions were on the other hand were none too pleased with the increasingly well know fact that McCarthy and I were getting more than our fair share of the female talent both down in Glory, and up beyond at the homestead. They were, as you can imagine, pissed off at our success. They knew in their hearts that they could in no way compete with the likes of meself and McCarthy. They took their revenge in the only way that they knew how to - through the use of violence. We both received so many beatings over time that we eventually made rendezvous with our dalliances down in Glory by sneaking directly to the barn at prearranged times to meet the ladies to be pleasured. The ladies had among themselves developed a schedule to coordinate meetings among the many who had a desire to sample the magnificent tool of pleasure.
Over the months I got to thinking that we should be charging for the pleasure of servicing the ladies, and we broached the subject a few times, but got such poor reaction that we quietly let that Idea slip. As time rolled on the pleasure became less and less for myself, though McCarthy never appeared to tire of picking up my leftovers. I began to put my foot down, and pick only a few particularly lovely ladies, at the expense of the plain and downright ugly. We had grown tired of our humanitarian mission. After all, it’s not like we were getting paid to do a job of work. And as we continued to be at the receiving end of bad attitude from various put out male elements in our stomping grounds, we could not be expected to deliver the pleasure to all and sundry, with the risks that were involved. The reduction of our service availability over some weeks left something of a bad feeling from some of our former r ladies, but it had to be done. One unexpected impact of the reduction of our service quota was that the local women had taken to demanding a much better standard of service from the males down in Glory, now that they had become introduced to a better standard of service.
The local men who had formerly gotten away with a quick shag and rollover now had to deliver the goods at higher standard, and more frequently. They in turn found that they had less energy to go to the pub and play sports and soon the publicans were not happy I can tell you. Revenue in the pubs was decidedly down in Glory and up beyond at the home townland.
Even the GAA club was taking something of a hit for the shortage of young players it experienced as the local young ladies demanded a higher standard of servicing and greater attention generally from their males. Over the next few months, myself an Mc Cathy slowed down our visit’s to the posse of ladies demanding a servicing as we were getting fed up with the whole carryon. Shagging at the rate that we had been going had become more of a chore than pleasure, and we had lives to be getting on with.
Mcarthy and I wound down the whole operation and went back to hanging around the mountain. Then one night my past came to visit me. Or rather attack me. That was the mood that was on Sergeant Maher as he thumped the living shite outta the front door at three in the morning. The shotgun he had with him spoke volumes. The oulfella looked out the window, and wasn't long coming to ask me if I knew why Sargent Maher was at the door with a shotgun? I confessed it may be in some way related to the fact that I knew his daughter. Knew her biblically he asked? Yes says I, but I also wasn’t shy about telling him either that half the district was on just as good terms as I was with her.
"So she’s a tart. Is that what your saying?" my oul fellar asked? I reluctantly confessed she was.He had instinctively sensed the situation concerning the armed man at the door. He told me to keep my gob shut and not to go downstairs, that he would handle the situation. Well, I stayed up at the top of the stairs while the oulfellar opened the door and got down to some verbal with the Sergeant.The gist of what was going on related to the fact that Alice was apparently up the pole. Bad luck indeed. But what had that to do with me ? Half the lads in the district were as likely to be the father as I was. What was he doing at my door, there were plenty of lads that had shagged her far more than I had ever. The father told the sergeant to get off our property or he would make a complaint to the Superintendent. The oul fellow had no hesitation pointing out that the Superintendent would not be too happy to hear that he was running around on personal business, dressed in uniform and wielding a shotgun. That shut him and he slinked off away all the while making it known that he was going to be back.
Sergeant Maher was going to have a lot of running around to do to find out who exactly was the father of the child.I heard some years later that all the running around he did around that time left him with such a load of stress that he popped a blood vessel in his head and remained a vegetable for the rest of his life. He never did find out exactly who was the father of the child. But there was many a lad in the district keeping a low profile about that time I can tell you. Though there was definitely some suggestion that I was the most active receiver of Alice Mahers attentions I denied all responsibility. I had no intention of being the hapless father. Jaysus but to think that I was going to bow to pressure to hitch up with that tramp. I had no intention of being the big eejit to get caught to bring the hapless sprog up. However, there was a conspiracy abroad, and the district had decided that I was the one that had fathered Alice Mahers child, and so I should then be the one to marry her. In the weeks that followed pressure continued to mount at home and the frequency of the lectures and visits from an assortment of local clergy and other professionals left me in no doubt as to who the local community thought the father of the child to be. The good thing was that the uplanders were on my side and they were having no truck whatsoever with the fact that she may be up the pole. At the end of the day, she was a lowlander up the pole. There were plenty who could testify that no one could be really sure who exactly the father was. As it happens, and in hindsight, there were apparently the few who did comment over the years that the little sprog had more that a passing resemblance to me. However the father could just as easily have been any one of two dozen other young shaggers in the parish. Anyway, with all the shagging that was going on about that time there was no telling how many sprogs ended up running around bearing a resemblance to either McCarthy or meself? And not to mention all the other young shaggers in the parish.
What was I to do? Take responsibility?
Anyways, whatever the long and short of it, I was having no truck with accepting responsibility for a sprog that was no way anything to do with me. Well that was all fine for a while until Alice Mahers father proved to be only the dry run for another unhappy parent. This time Mary Wilson, a very fine thing herself and a wan who I had to say was the finest of fine experiences in the oul sex department that I had in that whole period down in Glory. She wasn't very long up the pole and she was adamant that I was the lucky father of the hapless and soon to be unwanted child. Well, the brothers were up to the house at all hours. The parents were by now getting sick and tired of having to put off callers to the house looking to blame me for making their daughters pregnant. What exactly was I to do?
I did my best to convince Mary Wilson`s brothers that McCarthy was the culprit. They were having none of it and only thought me the one responsible and duly in need of a good thrashing to ease the path up the altar. Well, the oul fellar had given up having too much to do with me by that point. He was not getting involved. It was getting harder and harder to convince anybody that I was an innocent party. Slowly even my family were turning against me.
Mary Wilsons brothers took to setting up camp outside the farmstead and I was only fit for running down past the constant vigil the brothers put up for me. They were out to kill me they said, unless I did the right thing. I decided that the time had come for me to make my exit from the place I called the homeland. I had talked about it often enough, now it was time to be getting on my way. It was time for me to be off to the West. My destiny awaited me.
The oulpair would, I was sure, be delighted to see the back of me. Being around just made them realise the mistake they made in having me in the first place. I would be do the right thing and run away. At least my parents would be happy not to have to hide their faces every time they went down the town. Between the shame that the family must be feeling about having me as one of their own and the constant harassment that my antics were causing there was no doubt but that I was better off getting the Hell away.
Well, there was nothing for it but to finally accept the destiny that awaited me and make off for the West. I spent as much time as possible trying to figure out the best routes for my escape. I had plenty of time for it, for I hardly dared move out of the house with the constant presence of Mary Wilsons brothers. However, as the problems mounted and the weeks went by the reality of my position became more and more untenable I began to realise that an escape East and to Dublin would have to be the initial point of my journey, for I would firstly have to make some money to pay for the journey. I could make some money in Dublin if I took the few cattle that I owned with me to sell at the market.
The few cattle would never last the journey over to the West without losing far too much weight to be of any use for making a good price by the time they got there. No, Dublin was the obvious choice. I could head off in the dead of night on horse back, pick up the Dublin train in Glory and sell the cattle at the Smithfield Market before anyone was any the wiser I’d be over in the West. I could ride the Horse to Galway, and after selling the cattle in Dublin I would have money in my pocket to fund the journey over West. A train ran every morning from Glory and arrived up in Dublin at the crack of dawn. With any luck I’d have my two cattle sold in no time and be off about my business before I was even missed up the mountain. Nobody would be able to track me down. I would be well away to the West before I was even missed.
They'd be better off without me anyway. No doubt in their minds, it was only a matter of time before yet another wan turned up on the door step and claimed I was the father of yet another child. Well, there was no denying that I had shagged a lot of ladies in Glory, and on the law of averages sooner or later I was going to end up getting one of them banged up. Some good news concerning Mary Wilson made itself known to me in the fact that her family had decided that I was a total waster altogether and that it was probably better that they pin the pregnancy on some one else, for they themselves knew that Mary had a reputation as a bit of a slag.
McCarthy got wind that the Wilsons had decided he was a better long term prospect for marrying their daughter and he promptly went to ground. They had realised that I was having none of their intimidating ways and was no more likely to marry that oul tramp Mary Wilson than that Maher one. When were they all going to learn that I was going to do things in my own way. The sooner I got away from the oul hillside the better. No doubt about it, but that I `d probably spend the rest of my years trying to wash the memory of the oul hill from my soul. Good riddance and be dammed, that was all I could be thinking about as I made my plans for the departure from the hill as stealthily as I possible over the next few days. What I was able to bring with me was going to be limited by the space available on horse back. Oddly enough, I got the sense that the father had an inkling of what I was up, for he shod my mare with new shoes before I got a chance to do so myself. With the muck that was written all over the name that I had for myself at that stage, there was no point in me staying in that community any longer. Wee little communities such as I came from had an ability to exact a modicum lifelong low level revenge in the matter of the transgressions the community felt that individuals had exacted against it. I was undoubtedly one of the individuals that was already being earmarked for such treatment. It wouldn't be long before a constant stream of pishogs and slander and bitchiness was going to be a constant companion in my life.
I`d seen enough oul eejits who were fool enough to hang around listening to that sorta shitte all their lives end up sad and despised by the fishwives tongues of the average peasant mind. There was no way I was staying behind for that sorta carryon I can tell you. No way atall. I was off to the West with my trusty steed. Well , indirectly, because first I had to go via the East.West via East as it were.

CHAPTER 5
Soon I was ready for my journey. In the dark of night I quietly made my way to the stables with the few belongings I had. I`d made sure to have the horses harness ready a few days before my escape. I had also moved my two cattle into a field close to the road and prepared a rough harness of sorts for the cattle. Although the distance to the town of Glory wasn't very far travel was going to be slow with the two cattle in tow. And by God was I right. Less than half an hour into the escape from the chains of the past I knew that I would be pushing it to get down to Glory in time for the morning train to Dublin, and freedom. There was however no going back and I knew I had to go for it now. Hour after countless slow hour I crawled along the dark and forbidding country lanes at a snails pace. I thought of getting rid of the two creatures and taking my chances even more badly funded than I was already. Sense prevailed however and I decided that in the event that I didn't make my train on time I would hide out for the day somewhere in the vicinity of Glory and make good my escape the next day.
Not a sinner was stirring that eventful morning as my strange entourage made its way to the lowlands at a snails pace. As the cold of night reached my bones it was only the thoughts of a better life over yonder that kept me going. I hit on the idea of using the irritant effects of nettle`s to pepper up the performance of the two slow moving dumb beasts. Taking out the torch, I looked along the side of the road for a likely bunch of young and stinging nettles to do the job. Eventually I came upon a cluster of likely prospects and gathered as many as I could. As kids we regularly used to shove a bunch of nettles up the how`s your father of a sheep or cow. The results could often be startling. The sheer speed of movement was likely to be spectacular. The down side was that the movement was just as likely to be erratic. I prepared myself for what was going to be the ride of a lifetime as I tightened the reins and prepared to make the mad dash the last few miles to Glory.
With surgical precision I shoved a bunch of young stinging nettles up the backside of each of the cattle, and jumped up on my mount. I knew from past experience that it would take a moment or two before the stinging effects of the poison registered with the dumb beast. They weren’t called dumb beasts for nothing. Well, they reacted all right, and in no time atall, the stupid creatures had begun an unmerciful charge down the road. Thankfully in the direction of Glory. Any change in their direction and I knew that I could not have any hope of controlling them and would have to let go the reins for fear of my own safety. Thankfully the creatures continued on the road to Glory at a pace that was going to see me make the train on time. Finally the townland came into sight. Thankfully the railway station was a good straight line from the road we were already on. With a bit of luck we would even arrive with a few minutes to spare. That was until I saw the old Police car tumble its way towards me at a pace. The copper did his damnedest to avoid the unexpected entourage. The police officer was heroic I must say in doing his duty and protecting the safety of a citizen as it became obvious that we were going to collide. I came to hear later that he died as a result of the burns he suffered when his car crashed. And later again, I heard that they were trying to make out that his death was my fault. Manslaughter they were calling it. That would make two deaths I was supposed to be responsible for within months of each other. As the nags charged towards Glory, I suppose that I should have stopped and gone to his aid, however, it was not my fault that he crashed, and I failed to see how I was expected to be responsible. I had every right to be on that highway with my animals, and the code was that animals had right of way over vehicles. So if anything, he was in the wrong travelling up that road at such a speed.
Well, I suppose I should have pulled back the nag and gone to his aid. Anyway I reckon that there was little chance of stopping the animals, so I just proceeded to Glory station at the best speed I could muster and resolved to call the emergency services as soon as I got there. Dear reader, people didn't understand later that I just forgot to call the ambulance in the sheer confusion when I arrived. In the heat of the moment I just forgot. I had little or no time to be worried about the fortunes of another. As the train was pulling in at the station I was doing my best to manfully extract the nettles from the arses of the cattle, while all the time trying to explain to the station master the absolute necessity of my getting on that train. I caught a kick or two while trying to remove the nettles, but I suppose that I deserved that, animals had a way of getting back at you for giving them a hard time.
The beasts finally calmed down when the nettles were removed from their backsides. The station master looked at my travelling companions and made it clear that he had no intention of letting my little ensemble get on the train up to Dublin. I had to demand that my beasts be given passage. It wasn't long before he was demanding that I get the animals out of his station before he called the police to have us removed. There was little enough I wanted to have to do with the Garda. The station master continued to insist that the cattle could not be put on the train and further, he demanded that we be removed from the station post haste. I was having none of that attitude though I can tell you and I wasn't long about telling him where to get off. I had done my home work too, and thankfully I was ready for him and I`d made it my business some weeks earlier to check up on the station by-laws. I invoked an old ruling to make sure he would carry the three beasts.
After checking the railway rules and regulations he finally conceded that there was in fact a statute that allowed for my animals to be carried in the freight compartment. He insisted though that I was abusing the spirit of the long redundant railway by-law, for he said it had been a good twenty years since the railway had carried such a cargo of live animals on a regular service. Back years ago the train always had a special hold for such beasts in the days when there was a regular market trade to Dublin. Which as it happens, he insisted, was just not happening these days, and he couldn't understand what exactly I was planning to do with the beasts once I got to Dublin. He tried to put me off by claiming that there was no cattle market in Dublin these long years. I was not so easily fooled though I can tell you.
I eventually had to tell him to fuck off and mind his own business. Though he still kept insisting that there was no market up in Dublin I knew this was only a plan to stop me causing him a lot of bother. Even as we hooshed the dumb beasts on to the train he was still bladdering on about how there was no point whatsoever in bringing them up to Dublin to sell. I was going to have that last word however, and even as we were pulling the doors of the baggage cart closed I told him I knew different and that it wasn't any of his business any way and that I was only interested in having my rights and would he just issue the bloody tickets and stop all his whinging about it if he didn’t mind. As you can imagine, by this time I was fed up listening to all his whinging and I was only interested in getting the Hell out of there before the Garda car was reported crashed, and the local police force came looking for me. Once word of the coppers accident got out then it wouldn't be long before half the bloody police in Glory were out to hang me from the window bars of a cell, and call it suicide. The civic guards were apt to be most uncivic on occasion when they thought that nobody was looking, and they could get away with it. Thankfully the train soon rolled out of Glory, and we were on our way to Dublin, finally.

My new life was about to begin. The die was well and truly cast. It wasn't long before we were pulling into Heuston station and the smell of the Liffey mingled with the odour of the hops wafting down from the hilltop from the Guinness brewery at St James gate to announce the Capital city. The fellows at the Dublin station were every bit as delighted to see me as your man beyond in Glory had been. They hushed us on onto the street with a hurriedness that was as near rude as makes no difference. But then I`d heard that Dubliners were a right bunch of ignorant fuckers. When I asked the way to the Smithfield market they were very interested to know why I was going there. I told them I planned to sell the cattle and be on my way over to the West just as soon as I had gotten a fair price for my beasts. Well, I can tell you they were right ignorant fuckers - for they burst out laughing. I could see nothing funny in it atall. Well, there was no point in getting smart arsed with them and I went about my business as best I could onto the streets.
Well, they weren't as easy going as the lot back home. It wasn't long before a few motorists and myself were having a bout of verbals in the middle of a Dublin street on account of what they felt was their right on a public highway over my beasts. I had to let them know in no uncertain terms what the law said about the rights of animals over vehicles. They appeared to have little regard for the rights of animals on a public highway. Granted one of my cattle had damaged one of their cars. They had the gaul to suggest that I should pay for the damage to their vehicles. I pointed out to them that the few cattle were all that I owned in the world and that I had no money to give them. They then started getting excited about the prospect of beating the bleedin crap outta me if I didn't come up with a few bob. Well, all I wanted to do was get the Hell off to the market and sell the bloody beasts. All I appeared to be able to do was find trouble. And where there's trouble the coppers aren't far behind. Sure enough they had a car down to us before we knew what was happening. The usual thick attitude wasn't long surfacing on the copper when he came upon the scene. After lots a cussing and shouting it appeared I did indeed have some right of way as a keeper of animals on a public highway. I smiled smugly as the copper broke the news to the two motorists that my animals had precedence over car traffic.

Well, that was that, and the motorists went off disappointed. They had nobody to sue. They were a right handy bunch at suing each other up in Dublin I believe. Always at it. You only had to look at another motorist and they were on the phone to their solicitor. If I thought I was getting away lightly I was mistaken, for of course the coppers let rip at me, and I had to endure a boring lecture about how things were different up in Dublin. When I told them it was off to Smithfield Market to sell my cattle they laughed their heads off. Most uncivil carryon and though almost unable to stop laughing they decided to escort me to the market to make sure that there was no more bother with any other motorists. Well, that was grand so.
Our little convoy made its way up the side of the river Liffey without any further ado. There were plenty of comments from all and sundry though I can tell you. Some brand if ignorance those Dublin Jackeens went around with. It appeared that Dubliners had never known the likes of such a sight. Thankfully we arrived at our destination and the coppers left me at the edge of the market with a smirk on their faces. They were a funny bunch up in Dublin. Well, I can tell you I got a shock when all the people in the market also began laughing their heads off into the bargain. I couldn't for the life of me understand what was going on with these Dubliners that they thought the sight of a fellow bringing cattle to market was such as funny sight.
Was I that queer looking a character? I had always heard the people up at home remark that we were different from the Dubliners. I never imagined that we could be that different that the look of my people was enough to cause derision and laughter. How in the name of Jaysus they knew I was from the country just by the look of me was a mystery. I had no idea why they were all laughing at me. That was terrible carry on really. And at least what ridicule I had experienced at home was the result of the carryon of me and somewhat understandable for all that, even if I said otherwise. I wasn't that thick either that I didn't know I deserved most of it. But I was well and truly gob smacked with the bemused smirking that was going on with this lot at the market. Well, I bloody well let a scream outta me.
"Have yez never seen a man from the country before? I asked out loud?

That only caused the oul Jackeens to carry on even worse and find the whole thing even more amusing.

I jumped down off the oul nag. I grabbed one fellow by the scruff of the neck and demanded to know what was so bloody funny. Nobody would tell me as I challenged one then another to the same question. Finally, this oul fellar had a kindly old face that looked like he might be inclined to give me an honest answer.
"Mister, will you tell me what in the name of God is so bloody amusing? Why are they all laughing at me ?" I asked in earnest as I tried to figure out what I was going to do.
"Ah sorry, it’s not you atall, its not you we think is funny,” he replied barely able to control a fit of the giggles. He was too busy still breaking his sides with laughter to finish off with the full revelation of his sentiments. But he continued in due course when he had settled himself down a bit.
"It's the two cow’s son."
"Cattle," I corrected.
"Well, whatever they fucking well are, you’ll not be selling them here I can tell you"
Why not I asked, all the while pointing out that they were fine beasts and that I knew from past experience that there was always a demand for good quality meat no matter where it was sold. The oul fellar agreed that the beasts were indeed fine animals, but then he dropped the bombshell. I was at a horse fair. I would not be selling any cattle at that fair. I asked was there not a cattle fair someplace else? He said no. The days when cattle were sold in Dublin was long over. Perhaps I could sell directly to one of the small abattoirs. I could barely believe my ears. He said I`d have no problem selling my fine mare but that mare was all I had in the world to take me to the West, and it was no use me selling the mare, and being stuck with the cattle. He was most understanding and even hushed the rest of the motley crew away and helped me to find a pitch for my wares, in the vague hope that I would sell the beasts.

I had to consider my position. I was now in a right jam. I could of course consider selling the horse and abandoning the cattle. Sometime around five that evening , as the market was winding up, I had a few punters sniffing around my fine looking mare. I held out however, for I knew that I would need the nag if I was to have any hope of keeping the cattle under control wherever I was going to bed them down for the night.
There were also few most unsavoury looking characters eyeing up my beasts and I couldn't help but think that their intentions towards me were less than honest. The old man returned to my pitch later as the market was just about winding up and looked at me in a manner that presented a cross between bewilderment and concern.
"Look here young fellow, you haven’t anywhere to stay I suppose?" he asked.
I answered truthfully that I hadn’t a notion where I was going to stay and worse that I had no idea where I really was for this was my first time up in Dublin. The kindly old fellow had a temporary solution. A solution for which I was extremely grateful, for I was well out of my depth by that time I can tell you.
"That building there in the centre of the square, you can stay there tonight but you'll have to move on tomorrow. It’s an office for the market and our family has run the market for a good many years, so we get the use of the building`s. However, the council man will be in tomorrow to check on the paperwork for this weeks market, so you’ll have to be gone by then."
I thanked him for his kindness. I was relieved that I had the chance to be staying somewhere for my first night of freedom. Who knew what tomorrow would bring and how my fortunes may have changed in twenty four hour’s. All I needed to do was to sell the beasts and I would be on my way. Thanks to the old man, at least for the first night I would have somewhere to lay my head to rest. That was something.
While I was gathering up my belongings and tethering the beasts to one of the stalls inside the shed the old man came up to me in the company of one the most stunning looking wan I had ever seen. As we met I detected a glean in her eyes and a sparkle in her soul as she coyly turned away from me and half hid behind her grandfathers back. There was almost an instant connection between us even before we had even spoken a word. Rachel was her name. Her grandfather sent her off to go and get some horse feed for the cattle. He figured in the circumstances it was the nearest thing to their own diet for them.

Well there wasn't much conversation from the young wan during all of this though. I did catch her giving me the odd sideways glance and a look or two my way when she thought I wasn't watching her. She was interested a bit I could tell. God knows I could do with a bit of female company for I had little or no action of any sort since the ending of my episode’s down at Glory. This youngwan was different however. There was something about her. Something that I couldn't explain. Somehow I knew that she was not going to be like all those women back in Glory who were only after the one thing. The magnificence of my frustration. The sheer girth and length of my wonder tool was all they wanted from me. This one was different. I knew this almost instinctively. After all those women who’d done their damnedest to exploit me for their own satisfaction it was excellent to have one appear to like me for who I was. This one undoubtedly knew nothing about the secret between my legs. She even stayed behind for a while when we had finished putting the animals down for the night. We had talked for a while, something none of those girls back in Glory had ever bothered to do with me.
We talked for hours before she went off home, and when she left I suddenly felt as though part of me was missing. I had never felt like that before, and now there was to my mind definitely something different about the feelings that I had for this young wan. And even though we had talked non-stop could hardly remember a single thing we had talked about. This young Dub was a fine looker too. But she wasn't throwing herself at me like the wans back in Glory and she wouldn't even let me sneak a kiss as she walked away into the city night. She had even bought me some food from her mother’s fridge and a drop of tea and warned me to watch out against those lads that had been lurking around the market earlier. They were bad news she said and only out to cause trouble in the market which her family had run for countless years. The lads were all members of the Gallagher clan. Rachel told me that they hoped to cause trouble at the market so that Rachels family, the Mulligans, would lose the lucrative contract to manage the market. They themselves lost the contract to run the market many years before and had resented the Mulligans ever since. That was the game of it and by allowing me to stay the night in the council shed the family were putting their livelihood at risk. I couldn't understand how these Dubs were so kind to me, for I had heard that they were a mean and hard bunch. Well, as the night closed I shut up the place as secure as I could and settled in amidst the warmth of the beasts with my sleeping bag and was quickly off into a deep sleep.
A sleep that was broken suddenly by the sound of the door opening. I froze where I lay Afraid. It had to be the Gallagher`s. They had doubtless come for my cattle. I didn't know what in the world I would do. I had kept a stick by my side while I slept, just to protect myself. However, now that the time had come to use my only weapon, I froze. I could not move for fear, even though I stood to risk losing the animals, and the funds to finance my journey to the West. Footsteps were all the time coming towards me and I was still unable to do anything so terrified was I.Then I heard a voice I recognised. It was Rachel.
"How-ya,I bought you some drinking chocolate," she said.
I did my best to pretend that I had been asleep and not even heard all the commotion of her coming in.
"Oh Rachel, hows-it-going? I didn't hear you come in atall," I lied.
"Well its good and ready for the Gallagher’s you surely were" she half joked, half warned. "They could have been on top of you for all the effort you made to see who was coming in the door at you," said Rachel. I was deeply touched by her concern for me.I pretended that I was just too tired to be alert and any way the Gallagher’s weren’t likely to have a key and so would have made a lot more noise than she had. She diplomatically made no further comment,though I suspected that she knew more than she let on. I was relieved when she lay down beside me and cuddled up close and we fell asleep together. Before she nodded off she said that she was only staying because the Gallaghers would never do anything while she was there with me. This of course implied that there was no telling what in the name of God they would get up to if I was on my own. That made me all the more concerned. Whatever the reason for her staying I was delighted to have her by my side and eventually we fell asleep holding each other. This again was nothing like the experiences I had with the young wans back in Glory who were only interested in the quick shag and away with them.
This wan on the other hand was apparently not interested in a shag atall which of itself I found disconcerting. Then again she didn't know anything about the special capacity for pleasure that was within my ability.

There was nothing for it but to behave myself and keep the stirring in my loins quiet, for fear that I might frighten this one off. By the time morning came I had all but forgotten the presence of Rachel, who at that stage had already gone about her business. I awoke that first morning in that strange place where I was not entirely sure where I was for the first moments of waking. Eventually I remembered the ignominy of the previous day and wondered what in the name of Jaysus I was going to be doing now. I had two cattle that I could not sell, and no way to get any money until I did sell them.
I reluctantly rose to meet the day and immediately became melancholy at the thought of the beasts for which I must either find a buyer or a place to graze them for a few days. There was little enough of the joys of freedom I was feeling right at that moment I can tell you dear reader. The following day I ventured out to find the street where I had been told that it was possible to sell my animals, Meath Street (pronounced meat street) they called it. A place where every second shop was a butchers, and there were more than a few slaughter houses that might be interested in my wares. Anyway, with Rachel looking after my beasts I wandered on across the river Liffey and followed the smell of the hops that wafted out from the brewery up at St.James Gate, home of the great black pint. The only good thing to come out of Dublin they used to say around our parts.
Once there I called to all likely prospects and quickly discovered that none of the butchers or slaughterhouses were interested in buying for processing on a Monday. They would not be interested until closer to the following weekend I was told. This week they were all buying sheep, such as was the business cycle. My problems it appeared were only beginning. Where in the name of God was I going to keep the animals until I had a chance to dispose of them. I was back to square one unless I could find some way of keeping the beasts until they sold. I went off somewhat put down for I didn't know what to be doing with myself and there was no hope of my disposing of the beasts anywhere else. It was unlikely that I was going to be able to stay where I was for any longer than the night that had been promised to me. The Mulligans had already done enough for me. I could impose on them no further. I would have to find for that night somewhere to rest my beasts and stay regardless of how difficult a task that might seem in the concrete jungle.

Well, as the hours were dragging on I knew I had to be getting on back to the shed to clear out my entourage before the council man was getting in on the act and causing consternation all round.My heart sank as I neared my destination and had to get the oul head around the fact that I would need to very quickly make a decision if I was to have any hope of keeping the show on the road. Thankfully, by the time I had arrived some good news awaited me. The councilman wasn't coming around till later in the day so I had a few hours respite. Rachel’s grandfather had also come up with a plan of sorts in suggesting that I should make my way to the Phoenix Park which was only a stones throw up the road. The only thing of it was that I would have to go after dark or the park wardens would have me run out of the place. When I told him that I was not going to be able to sell my animals until later in the week he said that if I got over that night in the park then I could come back again to the shed, once the council man had passed.
Things were definitely looking up. A little later, things started to look even rosier. Rachel's Grandfather came to the shed with the news that there was a truck available that could carry the whole entourage into the park where I could find a spot that would do me for the night. We could go in the late afternoon, and the park rangers would be none the wiser if we went through in the lorry. He said they were a right lazy bunch of bastards and they never went on the last inspection of the day, so we should be all right.He said there was plenty of good grazing grass at this time of year, saving us even the expense of a feed for the lot of them. All I had to do in return was to promise to send a few bob back to the driver of the truck when I had sold the beasts, just to keep every one sweet.If the oul luck would just hold the while, then things could be turned around the right way. Well, all I proceeded for once according to plan and sure enough it wasn't long before we were slinking around the park in the truck looking for a suitable spot to graze the whole shooting gallery for the night.
Soon enough we had every thing cushdie and were snug and out of sight sufficiently well for the purpose of avoiding the parkies on the off chance that they did do their last check of the park. The tethered animals were thankfully behaving themselves and making little or no noise and it was without incident that the blackness of night fell on our little family of sorts, and comfortable we were at it too.

When I knew the parkies had definitely packed up their business for the day and that we were not likely to be bothered then I got to being bold enough to strike up the fire and begin to think about what I was going to eat. Well, true enough but the lord provides . I was more than a little partial to venison I can tell you. Well, you can of course understand that when I saw a whole herd of deer running around the park , My heart jumped for joy. As soon as I had loosely tethered my own beasts, I followed the heard of Deer as best as I could without knowing the terrain and armed only with the slingshot I had bought with me. I was only able to hit a small deer as I had only my smallest sling shot with me , but a small dear would be fine for dinner that was fine for dinner that evening. Later , before I made off for the West I could come back and try and kill a larger deer to salt or smoke for the journey over West.
I quickly came upon my mark and took aim at the young deer that had a nice firm, if small, and meatless enough rump . My aim was true and the young animal went keeling over as the rest of the herd ran off. The cute little creature was still alive when I got to it, so I was forced to give it a quick slash of the gullet with my hunting knife, and it wasn't long before I was gutting the hapless creature as best as I could in the conditions. The whole job took me little less that an hour and soon I was sitting by my open fire with the soon to be consumed beast smouldering nicely on the oul spit. The crackling of the young deer flesh echoed into the night and gave me the feeling that I was already out beyond on the plains of the wild West .I imagined myself riding the High Chaparral, alone the cowpoke and only the oul nag for company except for the dumb beasts that were in my care. There was no doubt about it as night closed in and the smell of the young that had only hours before been running wild about the place put a hunger on me as the primal instincts were aroused in me by the whole scenario that I was living in. Even the constant attention of the young deer's mother, looking over in my direction didn't for a minute put me off the fine meal I had in store. The only thing that was missing was the bit of female company and that wasn't long coming my way when the familiar voice of Rachel was heard calling my name in the distance. Well, that was the top on the evening I can tell you as we sat and talked the night away under the stars, though I had a bit of explaining to do at first as she was well and truly shocked at the sight of poor little Bambi roasting on the spit, thought she was quick enough to take a few bites when the aforementioned young beast was being dished up. Apparently the deer were not exactly there for the taking as I had thought and I should have let them alone as there was some manner of a hefty fine and the possibility of a custodial sentence for unauthorised killing of the wee little fellows.
Well, what was I to do? I was hungry for sure and being the simple country lad that I was, there was nothing unnatural in my doing what came naturally, by killing the beast. After all, I came from a world where life and death were ever close to our hearts and minds. We, the farmers, bought nature alive into the world that we may stub out that life eventually so that the human family may live.

What was I to know about the strange ways of these people who lived up in the big city and sat around while a huge bunch of deer ran riot around hundreds of acres of ungrazed land? That waste of good farming land was to my mind the real crime. What crime that a man feed himself as best he can with what nature puts on his table I ask you? Little bambis mother wasn't that beside herself as I chewed into the succulent meat in a manner of enthusiasm and gusto that must have surely have displayed to the grieving mother that I loved Bambi just as much as she had herself, only in a different way. The evening continued rather pleasantly in the company of Rachel and it wasn't long before I had her smooth lips caressing mine and the silkiness of our tongues colliding in each others mouths was a force to be reckoned with for arousing the oul frustration I can tell you.
It hadn't gone unnoticed that Rachel was by all accounts the first youngwan that had wanted me for myself and not just the seeking of pleasure that was within my power to dispense. The youngwans back in Glory would hardly have said Hello to me before they had the frustration whipped out and were fondling and caressing it. She was possibly a virgin I got to thinking as we lay on the grass under the stars, the frustration getting more and more unbearable by the minute. When I thought about it I realised that I had never had a virgin. I felt this youngwan one was different somehow from all those who had used and abused me way back in Glory for their own selfish pleasure. I knew that I was the one who wanted to pleasure this woman of tremendous beauty and soul. This woman who wanted me for more than my tool of pleasure. Sometime around the time when I had me fingers well and truly imbedded up the full dept of the nice tight and succulently juicy love passage she possessed, she made it well and truly clear to me that she wasn't going to be letting me jump her bones as she called it. But she did say she would relieve me in another way. Though she was wet between the legs, and the lips of her love passage were swollen with lust she would not let me enter her. The frustration was by this time getting harder and more agitated by the moment.
And by God she wasn't long about getting on with it and dropping the hand to which she let a little gasp and recoiled at the sheer magnitude of the tool of pleasure. She was quick enough about getting the clothes offa me for all her shyness, and I have to say I was most surprised to see she wasn't shy about taking the throbbing tool of pleasure into her mouth and sucking the lad for all she was worth. She was clumsy with it, for by this time I had become used to dealing with sophisticated partners. She pushed and pulled, fumbled her way with my tool and groped my balls as she tried with difficulty to manage the enormous thing. She was shy about letting me explore her nether regions and for the first time in my life I was the object of pleasuring. I lay in happiness as she did her best to pleasure me, and give me the best of a time that she could in her inexperienced way.

Though the activity was of itself pleasurable she was obviously not used to dealing with something the sheer magnitude of what I had to offer. She had considerable difficulty getting the head deep into her mouth where eventually I released the love seeds in a great spasm. So heavy was the load of love juice that the sides of her gob overflowed with sheer volume and trailed down her chin as she half spat and choked the wonder juice. For all the tenderness of her years she had a brazen side to her as she swallowed the remainder of her salty love treat and licked her lips. She wiped up the remains from her mouth and snuggled up close to me. "That was great. Thanks very much" says I. "Wouldnt you like me to pleasure you? I am quiet the expert," I reassured her. I was not about to tell her anything like the history that I had suffered. I wanted to make a new start, and the last thing that I needed to be doing was going around letting all and sundry know what a sordid past I had come from.
I have to say I was delighted for once to be the one who was more receiving of pleasure than giving. She was not going to be moved on the subject of having sex. This I couldn't understand as she so easily took to giving me the oul blowjob. She eventually told me coyly That she was indeed a virgin and that she didn't mind the oul blow jobs but that she wasn't having any sex with anyone until she was married. She was adamant about that. And anyway she said that sex was a sin though the oul blowjobs didn't really count and were therefore acceptable enough when all was said and done. I couldn't really challenge that logic. I was happy enough if that was going to be the situation, for I had always had plenty of trouble getting blow jobs back in Glory. I had heard lads talk about them and I had always wanted to have a full one, for although some of the girls back in Glory would give a chap bit of a lick, it was mighty hard to find anyone to go the whole hog as young Rachel had done for me.
These Dublin people weren't, from my own experience, the cowboys that I had been led to believe back home, and my earliest experiences had all been very positive I have to say. They hated Dublin people where I came from, but I had been lucky in that I had bumped into the best of people.
Late into that wonderful night out in the open I heard a noise. Nothing significant, just a rustling of trees that didn't sound quiet right on the evening that was in it with little or no wind to talk of. I put the noise down to the animals stirring and dozed off again. But not long after I was awakened again , this time by the unmistakable sound of whispering and slight stirring by my horse. Something was wrong I knew as I reached for my hunting knife, the only weapon of consequence I possessed. Too late though. A gang descended on the tent trapping my self and Rachel inside. We had no idea what was going on and were, as you can imagine quiet panicked at the thought of the danger we found ourselves in. Suddenly they pulled the support wires and somehow managed to pin the tent to the ground, making us incapable of movement. We were trapped. Then a voice spoke.
"Right , you in there . Were only here for the animals , so if yez fuckin behave you`l not be havin any problems, do you hear?"
Well, that was it then surely, they were a bunch of cattle rustlers. They were stealing my future. And there was nothing I could do trapped to the ground in a tent as I was. At least now that we knew their motive we were less concerned for our safety and concentrated on trying to plead with the rustlers to let us out of the smothering conditions of the tent. Rachel clung to me for fear. I don't mind admitting that I was terrified myself.
We remained trapped while we listened to my beasts being herded up into the back of a truck and eventually the tailgate being hoisted and locked as the animals were secured. These were professionals for they didn't utter a word barely during the whole of the operation as they stole what was all I had in the world. All the time a number of their party kept the surround of our tent pinned down making sure that we had little or no chance of resistance. That was until I felt one of those holding down the tent move off to the side and noticed a corresponding loosening of the grip on the edge of the tent. I knew at that moment that I had a chance to make my bid at resistance as I put the hunting knife in between my lips and nimbly crawled out the side of the tent. There was one of them close to me who appeared to have the job of watching us, but his attention had wandered off the job, for he was smoking a cigarette and looking every way but at the tent. I seized the opportunity that presented itself to me, and crawled slowly out of the tent. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I recognised a number of faces from the market the previous day. It was the Gallagher gang. There was no way I was going to be making much of a mark on the lot of them for they were many and I was but one lonely soul flying in the face of adversity. But by God I was a mountainy man and as such I would have no choice but to make a stand of sorts in the name of my people. Or at least for the preservation of my dignity. Though I knew I could hardly win against such numbers the code of my tough and hard fighting people demanded that I at least made a stand against these outlaws who sought to steal my future would, I knew, only be making something of a last stand without hope of reasonable result for I could not ignore the fact of Rachel's presence still trapped in the tent. I took my mark on the closest bandit and slunk as far out side the tent as I could without making any noise and was finally free enough to make a dash for my target. I knew my stand against them was going to be futile, but I still dashed at them with all the force and gusto that I could muster, running headlong at my target and lodging the hunting knife deep into his gut as best I could. There were quickly some half dozen of them on me. I had little hope against such odds and my resistance quickly crumbled. In no time they were thumping and thrashing the living lard outta me.They had no mercy. Sometime around when I began to fall into unconsciousness I began to think my actions somewhat foolhardy and regretted the whole carryon of me for these fellows were serious about what they were
I could hear them opening the tent as Rachel began to scream for fear. I began to think the worst, and feared for her safety. I suppose that I should have thought of that earlier.
All the while I continued to take blow after blow to my body. I began to think they would not hesitate to see me in a grave for the trouble that I had caused to them. I was drifting in and out of consciousness at this stage until eventually I got to a point where I just wished for the pain to stop. I didn't care if they were going to kill me just as long as the pain stopped. I could just hear Rachel scream louder and louder as suddenly the beating stopped I felt a few bodies drag me from the ground and lift me up. This had little effect and eventually we were both thrown up on a lorry with the beasts To await our fate.
"Well country boy, you should have minded you bleedin manners and we'd have let you alone after we had what we wanted", this one I had already gathered was called muff.
Then another voice"You just couldn't leave it alone could you? Ya bleedin moron. All you had to do was stay in the tent until we had our result and we would have been on our way. Now we have to deal with you for attacking one of my lads".
"Isn't that right Muff, " Asked one thug of another. He threw a punch in my direction. They stood over the two of us, deciding what they were going to do with us it would appear. Perhaps they were right I should have kept a low profile and let them get away with it. Muff appeared to be the one who had gotten a jibe of my hunting knife and when ever he looked over my direction he had a look hatred and anger in his eyes. I had drawn blood it appears. He would now have his revenge no doubt.
There was little I was going to be able to do but await my fate and accept the inevitable that my actions were poorly thought out and ill-considered. What could I have hoped to achieve I wondered as they dragged Rachel. Out of the tent. The man who appeared to be in charge came over and started thrashing me for trying to pull one over on his lads. It wasn't long before they were all dishing out blows and kicks that soon had me lying pleading for mercy. Eventually bossman Gallagher gave the cue and the troop of thieves manhandled us to the back of their Hiace van. I began to fear the worst, for we had seen the faces of these villians and they would not be willing to have us walk around capable of identifying them. I now knew that they had definitely been watching me yesterday at the fair. They knew that I was not from here about. If I was never seen around there again then nobody would be any the wiser. I would hardly be missed. My only hope was that Rachel's presence as a local might indeed have some baring on what they were planning to do to us. But then again I didn't consider that these were the sort who gave much of a thought for the consequences of their actions one way or another.
They drove off in convoy after removing the tent and all other remains of our presence in the park, an action that I considered less than fortuitous in the already alarming circumstances. Rachel was looking decidedly worried as she clung on to me for what I was all too well aware might indeed have been her dear life. The truck with the cattle and my horse slinked quietly from the hilly verge down by the place I learned after they called the furry glen, and I could feel the van arriving on the smoother and faster surface of the tarmac road. The speed of our departure increased as we moved farther and farther away from our camp and the tone of our gaolers grew more and more animated as they began to relax in the knowledge that they had gotten away with their escapade. Eventually they began to turn their attention to us. They were doubtless considering what they would be doing with us as they shone their powerful spotlight on us. All bigger of the two who were guarding us let out an unexplained yelp. He was looking at Rachel.
" Jaysus," he exclaimed before ordering the van driver to stop.
"We have to get the boss" he advised of the driver in the van who slowed down in order to slow down the truck with the beasts which by now was travelling behind us. Both vehicles pulled in to the curb and a quick council ensued between the boss Gallagher and the underling charged with our imprisonment. Both came back quickly to have a look in the back of the van and nodded heads in apparent agreement as they both looked at Rachel.
"Your right, she’s one of them alright" boss Gallagher agreed.
"Whadda we do now boss?” Inquired a foot soldier.
"Well have to let her go, in fact well have to let both of them go now for we don't know if yerman is connected to the bloody Mulligans or not".
"Ah boss, after that little tike pulling a knife out on us and all?"
"Can`t be helped, we don't want to escalate this turf war any more than it already is. There`s no milage in this. Save the next fight for something that is worth the fight, alright?
"Sure boss"responded the less than happy underling. Was I hearing right or had our luck changed? Were we going to be let free.
The foot soldiers were less than happy at the prospect that we were going to be released. From what I could gather. They obviously had some special outcomes planned for us. I couldn't believe our luck. I began to look as if we were going to walk away from this, which of itself made me wonder a touch about Rachels family. At least their recognising that Rachel was from the rival family had put them off a course of action that could only have had our demise as its objective. Rachels presence appeared to have swung them away from their darkest thought. Our future was looking decidedly better for Rachels presence. However, there was no denying that Rachels family were ,it appeared just as bad as the lot who were currently holding us. Finally the boss opened the back door and spoke to Rachel.
"You're a Mulligan?"
"What of it ? " She replied in a manner that suggested that she was all too well familiar with the reputation of her family .
"Tell your brothers we did you no harm and that we wouldn't have taken you if wed known who you were. Alright?"
"I might tell them that, or I might tell them that your goons felt me up something terrible".
"Ah now Rachel isnt it?"
"Yes my name is Rachel, not that its anything to you".
"No, of course not, of course not. But that was only the lads being a bit high spirited don't you know, there was no real harm done now, was there?"
"What about the trashing that poor Johnny had to put up with? Your goons beat the shitte outa him."
"Well love, your fellar pulled a blade on my lads . He cut one of my men. Now he looks like a big boy to me, so he should know what pulling a blade means, and anyway but for he`s with you I can tell you his fate would be a lot worse that he’s already got off the lads here."
"My brothers will get yez back for what yez did to poor Johnny," says Rachel very haughtily by this stage.
"Less of you lip love, yez were on my turf and yez are both getting off lightly as far as I`m concerned. So, Ill let yez be on your way and that’ll be the end of it I hope, all right? I don’t think your brothers are stupid enough to waste their time on a character like this."
"Ill tell my brothers you raped me, and then they’ll really be after you," says Rachel in a very forward manner, pushing her luck a little at this stage I have to say.
"I want to hear no tales coming back to me. You tell it like it is or you'll start something that will have both our families going to war over some country muppet"
Bossman Gallagher turned his attention away from us towards his footsoldiers. Take them up to Smithfields and let them away, no fuckups now lads, do yez understand?" Indeed they did,though there was a look of disappointment on their faces at the prospect that they were it would appear not going to be having their way with me after all. We couldn't believe our luck as we drove off in the direction of Rachels home area with the prospect of freedom looming close at hand. The future it appeared had suddenly turned for the better and things were looking up. The van sped until some minutes later it stopped and the back door opened and Rachel was ordered out of the van. I started to follow, but it appeared they had different plans for me. I could barely get my self up off the floor of the van as it was and the two gang members who were escorting us hoisted me off the floor of the van. Rachels was shouting after me as the van sped off with the back doors open they drove off towards Benburb street when suddenly the big fellar threw me out with a most almighty force imaginable. A force that I could barely hope to survive I knew as I hit the surface of the road at speed. The lights went out in my head . My mind went dead and my body surrendered to the darkness that engulfed me. I knew my whole escape and adventure had come to a sad and sorry end. This was God’s punishment I knew.
Punishment for being a sad and sorry bastard. I knew as the lights went out and I sank deeper into the darkness that I was bound for the wrong side of death and would never have the hope of getting into the place of salvation, for all that carryon with the cult would ensure that I would be forever dammed. There was nothing for it but to accept my fate and realise that I would spend the whole of eternity in the burning fires of Hell, and that was no word of a lie.
I was doomed to an eternity of pain. As I sucked my last breath of oxygen I knew that I should never have started up that whole cult thing, for as I was about to meet my maker. I knew that God was not likely to be very forgiving, atall, atall. He wasn't one for putting up with too much competition. That much I did know.

Chapter Six
I woke up dead.Dead, and in Hell by the looks of it.
I knew I’d not lived much of a good life, but I had to confess I thought that at least the few good deeds that I had done on occasion would av bought me the respite of the odd few centuries languishing in purgatory. I knew as my sight focused on the chamber of torture and destruction that presented itself all around me that I was fucked. Fucked something proper.
All I could think about in the odd moments of painful,though lucid clarity was that the bloody priests had been right all along and that Hell did indeed exist , despite what McCarty’s older brother had sworn to the contrary.
And the pain of damnation was to be felt all around me .Throbbing like the hounds of Hell was the fearsome and constant thud in my head.
This was the pain, I was no doubt that I had better get used to though for I was going to be experiencing more of the same for a long time to come. In fact for all of eternity. The room I awoke to the horror of my eternity in was decorated in a manner, designed I was sure,to frighten an innocent like myself.The atmosphere of the place did indeed have the effect of putting the fear of God in me, but I was too late to be joining Gods winning team .Now that I was already languishing in Hell I had already had destiny decided for me I had to think. However it had happened, whatever I had done, I was well and truly tied up with the other side, the wrong side it would appear. The eternal die, was, it seemed, cast. I would have to get used to the future of pain and discomfort that was to be my due.The dim red flickering light left little to the imagination as to the location of my eternity. Doubtless I would have little chance to talk my way out of the predicament that I found myself in. I could only imagine that I had gone a little far with the cult carryon way back when in the townland of Glory , and that I would now spend the rest of eternity trying to figure out why I had been such a gobshitte as to think I could challenge a Deity .
Now I would languish with plenty of time to figure out the error of my ways, and no doubt about it. The instruments of torture were lined up along the wall and a large frame that resembled a rack of ancient days gone by was the main piece of equipment for the serious discomfort of all and sundry. I would be introduced to the pain distributed by the rack in good time no doubt, a session on the ways of Hell that would probably be the welcoming torture session. For what seemed like days I drifted in and out of consciousness while waiting for the start of the inevitable pain and suffering on an eternal basis, for at the moment I was occasionally very much relieved of my pain and had probably not as yet begun the full on Hell treatment. Not that what I was feeling wasn't of itself a fair modicum of discomfort and pain to be going on with. The Devil, I was surprised to learn, was a woman. This again flew in the face of what the priests had said, as they would never have given a moments thought to the prospect of the Devil being a woman. This of course opened up the possibility that God was equally a woman. At least I presumed the Devil was a woman, though I only figured this out through listening in on some of the conversations that I picked up on from the Devils little helpers, untill one day I came around well enough to see a horrible gargoyle of flesh that could only have surely been the main woman herself. The vision of ugliness that I glimpsed in the midst of dazing in and out of consciousness was a repulsive and shocking sight to my innocent eyes. She was certainly dressed for the part, and the rolls of over indulgent fat and warts that covered her fleshy face combined to produce an effect of sheer repulsiveness that could only signify that she was a product of an evil and harrowing environment. If she was not the head honcho herself , then the look of evil intent on her indicated to me that she could not be far removed from the main source of evil. The shiny and leathery looking duds complete with vicious metal studs were topped off with a demonic whip in her hand. I was left me in no doubt as to where I was , and ,on which side of the fence I had fallen on as it were. I could hear little or nothing of what she said to me her voice only a babble of incoherent muttering that echoed in my mind like some manner of a spookhouse scream. Every now and then she came in and eventually I noticed that there was also in her company other little helpers, who were all female but were great lookers into the bargain and though they wore similar gear to the queen of evil, as I had taken to thinking about her.The young wans were all very attractive indeed and I couldn't help but think that they would probably be some bit of fun for an oul shag if that sort of carry on was allowed in Hell.
The fact of it was though if things were as awful in Hell as they had led us to believe back in school then part of my eternal torture was that I would be constantly desiring these young wans without ever the hope that I could get a shag offa them. That would doubtless be part of my eternal torture for all I was after having done to all the young wans back in the town land of Glory and byond in the local area. Time flowed slowly and I had little recollection of all that happened though I do distinctly remember a dream or two when the nymphets came and looked upon my pride and glory, the reason for my downfall and subsequent incarceration in Hell. The constant throbbing I was aware of in the frustration department was thankfully relieved on one occasion by a pretty looking Asian girl who, after stroking and massaging the instrument of pleasure that had landed me in this horrible place took the offending article deep into her mouth where I felt she literally swallowed me deep into her throat. So deep indeed that she appeared to literally be choking on the great log of pleasure while skilfully massaging the tool to come in a ball of fiery release deep down into her throat in massive globules of salty love juice, which she swallowed with apparent pleasure and deep satisfaction. Afterwards, thought I was in a state of semi consciousness I was aware that she diligently licked the hot and sticky love juice from the shaft of my tool of wonderment, until I eventually drifted back into a state of delirium. Then again, I may have been just dreaming, so unclear was I about the experiences I had during that time of illness. The experience was not that which would have expected in a place such as Hell for there appeared no downside to the antics of the young Asian looking nymphet. Perhaps I had not fully entered the whole of the awful world of Hell and the moment of pleasure that had been trust upon me was merely a taste of things that were to be denied to me later in the fullness of my eternal damnation as I would doubtless recall the pleasure of the moment that I had encountered as part of the continuing torment of my harrowed soul. As day after day drifted along at a pace that was to me unmeasured, I slumbered from states of awareness to unconsciousness. All the time I explored the forbidden treasures that had made their way to me. Daily the love devils came, and took their evil pleasure from my damaged body and dead spirit. Though I did have to confess to gaining enjoyment from the experience heaped on me by the two love demons, I knew that morally I could be excused this as I was only a shadow of my former self and not atall capable of making any decisions of a moral nature. Then again, I had to keep reminding myself that I was already fucked and in Hell and not likely to be having to worry that my eternal destiny had already been decided. I did in my moments of lucidness have to give consideration to the fact that I was not in the depths of awe inspiring and eternal pain that I was used to hearing about at school and that I could in fact be in a temporary state of limbo awaiting the final incarceration in eternal damnation should I be seen to enjoy the advantage that was being taken of me as I lay there on my death bed. The times with the two love birds was interspaced with suffocating and demeaning sessions with the woman that they all called the Madame, and I have to say she was no lady, but rather uncouth and vile in her every action and attitude. She was want to pursue her demands with something akin to savage vigour of demonic intensity. She was however the boss, or so I was told by the other girls and left in no uncertain terms about my role in the whole order of things. I was there for her pleasure, and if I didn't like that then I was quite welcome to lump it and be damned. I had little enough to be going on with by way of distraction as it was and I knew I had no choice but to grin and bear my situation for I would not be having much choice in my activities for some time to come , but was at the mercy of the demons who were to control my future , whether I liked it or not, indeed for all of eternity it would seem. Oddly enough they even appeared to have a doctor in Hell for every now and then an individual came and took my temperature and generally examined me in a manner which I knew could only be that of a physician, something which I had to confess I found extremely Odd behaviour, but then again I suppose they had as much right to having medical attention in Hell as any where and I suppose they would be happy to keep the inmate’s of Hell healthy in order to ensure that the recipients of the eternal torment and pain were of a disposition and physically fit enough to be fully aware of the quality of their torment. Over time I came too and started to feel the need to eat again. I had one of those drip feed devices it appeared attached to my arm by way of nourishment and it was finally with great relish that I started to recover fully, unfortunately in the full knowledge that I would doubtless start to feel the full force of Hells anguish and torment now that I was mending nicely. I was, I supposed in a situation like those fellows on death row in America where they were kept healthy for years just so that they could eventually be executed without any physical ailments. There was eventually a day when I finally managed to stand up by myself but I only succeeded in falling flat on my face and I had to be helped up and back to the bed .That Incident floored me for some more time but it wasn't long before I was trying to get up again though all the time I of course kept asking myself what the point of my rushing to get better just to start the full force of the torment of Hell? Also, the frequency of visits by my little Asian friend became more and more pronounced until eventually she was joined by another woman, a beautiful sleek black woman who's breasts shone like ebony and who's skin was the touch of silk .Together we played mighty.I had known nothing like it way when in Glory even - and I thought that lot back there were something of a wild bunch! Variously I would have the pleasure of one or another and let my mouth explore their beauty in an orgy of sensuality. Daily, to pass the time I licked the bodies and touched and massaged their skin and explored the inner beauty with these wonderful ladies. Eventually, It dawned on me that I was nearly fully recovered. I was also coming to a state of awareness that I was not in any way dead but indeed, and if fact, fully alive. The strange state of my mind I put down to the concussion I had suffered. There was little enough explanation it turned out for I had been found outside on the Street unconscious by the Madame of the house, as they called the angry ugly witch who took her pleasure of me far more often that I would have liked. Having said that, the Madame had apparently had the decency to take me in the house where she had by all accounts managed to persuade the owner of the house to hire a doctor and have me looked after until I recovered .This was in itself another fair act of decency I had to admit. Well, perhaps I had indeed figured her out wrong for I knew by this time that I must as soon as possible be continuing on my journey to the West if I was to have any hope of ever getting on with my life as I had planned it way back when. I resolved the next time she came in to ensure that she was clear of my plans and thank her for her hospitality and be on my way as quickly as I possibly could be. I saw little of her over the next week or so as I started to fully recover and was soon feeling as fully fit as I could be and in a position to start seriously thinking about my travels to the West. Thankfully, she obviously had thoughts of talking to me also, for she summoned me to her rooms for a little chat. That was handy enough then for she was obviously looking forward to getting rid of me outta the house as well for no doubt I did not wish to be a burden on the establishment. How I would ever repay her I did not know but I resolved to send her what I could by way of repayment once I had made my way West and started to earn a few bob. The Madame sent up the little and pretty Asian girl to summon me before her and I was duly taken down to the Chambers of Madame as all the girls referred to her rooms. I presumed she must equally have a real name byond Madame, but nobody appeared to know it. Then again she was not the sort of person that one would want to get to know on a first name basis. The door to her chamber was opened by a giant of a man, a big arsed eejit as the girls were want to call him, who was known as the Lug. No first or last name, just the Lug and that was it. I was led into the room where the Madame sat upon a large chaise lounge with a glass of wine in her hands. Her room was decorated very normally and had none of the strange equipment and various odd looking torture devices which I had come to think of as normal in the other room.
"Sit down", she commanded of me. She was like that all the time, not a word of manners on her .She just issued demands without a by or leave of manners. A right royal rude bitch.
I however bit my tongue and duly observed her instructions and prepared to thank her for her hospitality and prepared to be on my way. She had a few things she wanted to say herself though.
"Well, Joey isn’t it?"
"Johnny", I corrected her. "Johnny Dicksons what they call me where I come from." I made no mention of the past I had, for I preferred not to readily remember all the other less complimentary names they called me where I came from, and the troubled past that had led to my being called those unsavoury and degrading slurs to my good name.
"Whatever", she muttered in a most dismissive manner.
"Whatever you’re called, the fact is that you have been with us some considerable time I suppose you know?"
"Well actually I have little or no idea how long I have been there, I answered truthfully and as best I could".
"Some two months would you believe, two long months when you have been the recipient of the hospitality of this house and indeed the services of our doctor into the bargain. "I was shocked, I had no idea that I had been out cold that long, for though I had the odd moment or two when I could remember the past, I was apt to forget many details of what had bought me the Madams hospitality.
And I greatly appreciated all the hospitality I most strongly assured her, for I was indeed genuinely most thankful for the care I had received over that time, and I let her know that I would be very happy to send her on a few bob from Galway to cover her expenses. No doubt I would be making so much money that I would be able to send her a few bob for herself as well I supposed. As a thank you if you will. Though she might be insulted with that and maybe a little present was the thing. I assured her that I would make sure that she was not going to be out of pocket as a result of providing me with the care and protection that she had. I was delighted to have this opportunity to personally thank her for what she had done and I would be delighted if she would let me know if there was anything else I could do to repay her kindness I would be most happy to see her right in her desires. She replied with a rye looking smile on her face that she did indeed have something in mind and that she hoped that I would be able to work off the expense she had been put out by and the loss of earnings that she had endured in order to put me up in what she referred to as her best "games room". I said that I would be delighted to do whatever I could and I would be happy to have any opportunity to work off my debt to her. Though I was not happy at the thought of staying any longer for I wanted to be on my way over to the West, I could not in all honesty refuse her for she had saved my life. I assured her that I would indeed do what I could to repay my debt to her, for I was never afraid of hard work. She was of course delighted to hear this and she said she was pleased that I was so keen to pursue the situation in a manner most acceptable to every one present.Well, there was little or no argument from me for I was bought up to always pay my way and would only be happy to do a bit of work in return for the kindness she had shown. At this point I enquired exactly what business it was she was in and how exactly she could use what limited skills I possessed. I was after all only an unsophisticated gombeen of a country boy, who knew little of any work but that on the land. At this point she broke in to a howl of derisory laughter that could be heard from one end of the house to another I was sure. I felt a little foolish for asking what to her was so obviously a really stupid question. I was embarrassed to ask any further of her business as she was in a fit of laughter. Eventually she settled down and was able to gather herself enough that she was obviously going to reveal her business to me "Oh dear son, but you do have a lot to learn don't you ?
"Haven’t you figured it out yet? "She asked of me.
"Figured out what?" I replied in all innocence.
"Figured out that this is a brothel?” She broke into a screaming howl of laughter that was almost frightening in its ferocity. I had to confess that I was a touch gobsmacked at the fact that I had failed to cop on to what now appeared in fact fairly obvious to me when all was said and done. Now I could make sense of all that equipment that was in my room and the fact that it was lit with a red light bulb. Now the two beautiful nymphets that I had been playing with so merrily all those months it dawned on me were obviously prostitutes. Well, whatever her business was, there was no point in me starting to get high and mighty attitudes about how she made her living, for hadn't she had the decency to look after me when I was down. But I knew I’d not be stopping either no matter how much she wanted me to work off the debt. I did me damnedest to ensure that I had a look of acceptance and understanding on my face and that I was not atall shocked at the revelation that I had indeed been living in a brothel all these month’s.
That was surely one thing that I have been telling them way back home if I ever did return for a visit some day. Well, as you can imagine there was little enough of the conversation we were likely to be having about the nature of her business so I decided to be off as quickly as I could for I had no bloody intention of hanging around such a house of ill repute a moment longer than I had to. It was far from hanging around such debauchery I was raised. I did me damnedest just to buggar off and be on me way so I told her that I’d send her a few bob as soon as I got to Galway if she'd kindly let me know what it was that she was looking for. At this point she had an almighty dose of the laughter’s and seemed to think there was something highly amusing in my thoughts. Personally though I could see nothing atall amusing about my offer, though I could understand that she was likely to be somewhat amused at the prospect of my repaying the debt without any Guarantee of any sort. She told me in no uncertain terms that she had her own ideas about how I would repay the debt she felt that was owed. She insisted that I would have to work it off. Well, that was fine I said, when would she like me to start I thought I’d string her along for a bit of a time buying exercise while I tried to figure out how best to handle the mad bitch. There were two clients booked to avail of my services in an hour I could start then she said. Well, I had no idea whatsoever I would be doing with the clients so I asked in all earnestness what would be expected of me.
"Good God kid, what the Hell do you think is going to be expected of you in a brothel?”
"Well, its not like I`m a prostitute. For the love of all that’s Holy, I`m not even a woman, how could I be a prostitute , sher men cant be prostitutes ," I said to her laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it. By this stage I was lightening up in the knowledge that she must surely just be having the crack with me.
"Kid, let me tell you something, but your going to do a lot of growing up in the next few months. And let me tell you that while you are obviously not a prostitute at this moment you certainly will be from this day forward until I decide to let you go, having consideration that you have a significant debt to repay. You will be a prostitute, a male prostitute. A Gigolo as they are called on the Continent. You will, to my knowledge be the first one in Ireland. So the sooner you get used to the idea the better," she threatened.
She and the great Lug broke into another bout of derisory laughter at their own sheer hilarity, though I was not laughing I can tell you. I certainly was not.
I was confused. It obviously it showed on my face for I was in no short order told by her that I was going nowhere until I had used that magnificent appendage of mine to satisfy what she said was a growing clientele of females looking for a bit on the side while the hubby was away out at work. Well, I have to confess that I had no idea that such services were even bought and sold on the open market and that it was even more of a surprise to me that the God fearing women of Ireland could consider even using such a service. An illegal service at that, I might add, into the bargain. Surely not for my client base the holy God fearing and chased women of Ireland. The very same Women that the priest was always praising from the pulpit. The back bone of Ireland could surly not need of a bit of godless servicing from the likes of me. For money ? This was something of a surprise to me. Surely not, such things were not possible in Holy Ireland. Well, I was having none of it I let her know in no uncertain terms though it appeared that she had already thought of that attitude from me had slyly arranged for the big lug of a hard man to be present when she pressed her bell. He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and bought me back to my room , the room that had up to that point been my place of healing. But the moment the Lug turned the key in the door of the room I knew the room was now to become a place of imprisonment.
There was little or nothing that I could do as I sat there gobsmacked and dazed at the situation I found myself in. I was in trouble again because of my dick. Now it would appear that I could find no peace in the world on account of the curse that God had given to me. There was no end of shock in my heart as I sat there. I have to say I was totally gobsmacked. I was in a state of complete bewilderment at the thought that the Madame now considered me a prostitute, that she would not think my word good enough to allow me to continue on my way and pay off any debts she may have been owed at later date. It was far from running away from my debts that I was raised I can tell you. The door opened a little time later and the pretty young Asian girl I had come to know as Siam arrived to console me.
"Johnnie , my friend," I looked up to see Siam at the door way to my chamber.
"Madame is hard, yes?" she said stating the obvious.
"Madame is off her fucking rocker if she thinks that I’ll be working here as some brand of a tart for the next few months, I can tell you”. I was a little put out by the whole affair as you can imagine.
"Oh, that not wise, better work and leave as soon as can and then you get no trouble", Siam counselled.
"There’ll be trouble all right, when I get out of here I`ll be straight off to the police I can tell you. "
"Oh no, bad idea, she only work for bad, bad boss I tell you. Name of Gallagher very bad man, very bad man indeed. You better do what told and go in two, three months and then no trouble I tell you. Some time girls go with Gallagher and never come back again I tell you .We think he kill .He very bad man".
I was gobsmacked, I was yet again in the hands of the Gallaghers who had already caused me so much grief with the episode in the park, and here again they were keeping me prisoner. Worse, the Mulligans would never be any the wiser.If they had known they may have come to help me by now,I had to suppose that they knew nothing about that night and that they would never be likely to be hearing much the way things were going. Maybe Siam was right, perhaps I would need to get my head around the I idea that I may well have to sit out my time here and do the dirty deed for a month or two and be damned with it. Perhaps I had no choice .Indeed it looked so. There was nothing for it but to accept my fate for the immediate future and get on with the job.
"Siam, these ladies that Madame wants me to, well you know, shag, what will they be like?" After all, hadn't I shagged enough of them way back in Glory and weren't they just using me as well, so what I had to think was the difference now?"
I would resign myself to my fact and do the deed as long as they were all at least half decent and maybe I could even have a little fun along the way".
"Oh last guy that come he say they all right mostly and tip sometimes good".
"They tip do they?” I asked. “I could make a few bob into the bargain as well do you think?"
"Oh yes, they give you some money and Madame she also give you some money , not so much but enough to keep you interested, so if you play game it all right in the end I think”. Just be careful, she dangerous woman".

Things didn't sound too bad the way Siam was putting them, but then again she was likely to be telling me the party line any road, but I did trust her a bit at least and I wasn't likely to find anyone else around here to trust so I had better make do with my lot and be getting on with it for better or worse.I decided the best thing I could do was keep my head down and try and survive the situation as best I could for there appeared no mileage in trying to go against your wan at the moment. Siam filled me in on what was expected of me while she rolled a big number as they called it up in Dublin and we smoked the fine Thai stick, getting to a nice little high that enabled me to contemplate having my first Gigolo experience as Siam had said a male prostitute was called, or at least the ones that went with women, though she said that I wouldn't have to do men atall, which I can tell you was a mighty relief to me as I had little or no intention or going down that road I can tell you. It was far from that sort of carry on I was raised.
"I tell you Johnny, no point in complaining, you better do job and be away soon as you can. Allright. Then every thing all right for you and you ok. Me I got to stay for at least another year and then go home with plenty money for family I tell you,"sighed Siam wistfully.
Well there was little enough I could do but accept my lot for the immediate future and get on with the job in hand. Madame was not long about coming to my chambers to try the delights of my special appendage as a trial run for the first client that was to be coming my way later in the day. So it was that I had to service Madame as she called it, though I found her singularly unattractive and indeed quite repulsive as she wobbled her big and busty presence while, I lay almost suffocating under her massive weight. The experience left me somewhat stunned and not encouraged at the prospect of what I was to be doing with the clients. It took me some time to get over the experience with Madame as I waited for my first client. Even before I started to work in earnest, I had concerns that Madame was no going to keep to her part of the bargain and release me from captivity after a reasonable time as she had told me.
Siam at least had been assigned to assist me in my job of client servicing and barely an hour after Madame had taken a sample of the goods on offer the first client was rolled in to the chamber.

Thankfully she was rather attractive and it was without great difficulty that I managed to arouse the tool of special pleasure and service this fine looking and refined woman with a sense of pleasure that I little expected to find in my enforced and new profession .She was a classy woman who took her pleasure with sophistication and confidence in a way I had never experienced before as she issued demands that I service her this way and that, to the point of exhaustion for my self. I realised that I was not likely to be able to do much in the way of dealing with a huge volume of clients on a daily basis for I would doubtless need recovery time if I was expected to deliver so passionately and fully of myself constantly. We lay there for a moment or two after she had satisfied her needs. On the way out she handed me a substantial tip and at this point I saw that perhaps I could manage to survive a few months of this type of work and perhaps have a little nest egg to make the journey to the West a starter again for I had of course by this time no money or horse to continue my journey to my destiny. Siam remained my assistant for the first days where I gradually got used to the stream of clients and learned to be responsive to their demands as time went on .I was enjoying the constant exploration of all the female flesh that came my way and learning the art of female pleasuring as I fucked and sucked my way towards realising my dream of escaping to the West.
Siam let me practise the art of licking and manipulation of those "special places" for women as she referred to them so that soon I was accomplished in the arts of the profession I had unwittingly entered. I had thankfully a list of clients that were on the whole attractive and Siam said that Madame did not let just anyone enjoy the fruits of my loin , being as she was aware to my need to be slowly introduced to the profession, something which I was thankful for. I was, I must say enjoying the experience on the whole and collecting more in tips than Madame was paying me, not that I could actually find any use for the money for I was confined to the building as the great Lug of a security man made it clear that I was not allowed to leave the brothel and indeed many a day I was not even allowed to leave the room after business for the day had started.So it was that day after day I would await the distraction of my clients to pass the hours of captivity until I could resume my Journey West and get on with my life.

I was gradually introduced to the subduing pleasures of hashish on a daily basis and eventually formed part of the regular band of prostitutes working in the brothel who would partake of the joys of hashish while waiting for clients to come. Soon we formed a tight little band and whiled away the days smoking and pleasuring clients in a manner of living which I have to confess I was warming too very quickly. It was not long before I had a regular stream of clients coming my way and was rapidly putting by a tidy sum of money for the continence of my adventures West. There was of course the occasional client that I was unable to find enough interest in to arouse my excitement, but at these moments Siam would enter my chamber at my bequest and manually assist in stimulating the beast of pleasure till I became ready and hard for the waiting customer. Failing that, she had taken to rubbing a white powder on the tool of my trade which had the instant effect of stimulating me into a situation of readiness for the clients. I thankfully had little enough contact with Madame accept for the times when she came into my chambers to take her own pleasure, an event which I found singularly distasteful and delighted to resort to Siams magic powder in order to complete the distasteful pleasuring of my employer.
I was somewhat concerned that I could get little enough of a straight answer out of Madame concerning the accumulation of my wad of cash and indeed any answers to the possibility of getting some manner of an exact date for my release to resume my travels. As the weeks rolled into months I became immune to the role. I was increasingly aided by the magic powder which I had by this time discovered was in fact Cocaine, a narcotic substance of South American origin. Using this magic powder, I was able to offer an instant erections to all my clients on demand just by rubbing some of the magic powder onto the tool of my trade. My clients continued to be thankfully neither too old nor haggard and it was with ease that I worked out my sexual energy on the punters and learned their special needs and the manner and way in which they liked to be touched and fucked. I developed a fine skill in licking the entry to the passage of pleasure as Siam called it, for she had shown me the way to perfectly satisfy all the clients who desired this pleasuring and indeed I found that many of them were literally mad for it and most thankful when it came to tipping if I did the art of licking well.
I soon developed a taste for the flavour of the love juices of the female flesh and marvelled at the differences which existed in the taste of each client that sought to receive the pleasure of the tongue. Regardless of the desire to indulge in the pleasure of the licking they were singularly interested in exploring their own pleasure with the tool of magnificent satisfaction in any and all ways that they could think of from kissing and stroking the wonderful instrument to enjoying the hot throbbing release of love juices deep into their mouths and down the passage of their throats. Some liked to have me come over their chests and I would massage the hot juicy pleasure across their skins as they commanded me to again stuff the throbbing and bulging tool deep and hard into their already sore love passages. Some even commanded that I shove my fingers deep into their nether passage as they screamed in a wonderful ecstasy of pleasure and pain as I delivered myself as best as my professional energies would allow. I had to draw the line at one client who constantly insisted that I came into her nostrils though I found this practice most disgusting I have to say, perverse even.
Of course there were those who wished me to take them up the back passage though I have to say that I had my standards and would not hear of such vile and debasing activity any more that I would countenance the wish of one client to explore my own nether region with some manner of a strange plastic device which she attached to her self in the hope of my compliance with her wishes. I being a country boy would go so far ,and no further.And that was that , I had to insist. There were others similarly who wished the company of another woman at their side as they took of my pleasure and Siam and myself would happily explore the territory of our clients together. Time passed by and the end of what I took to be a good few months later I had amassed a good wad of cash and come to the point where I felt that I would be soon enough in a position to leave the employ of Madame and make my way to the West,to continue with my destiny. I had by that Time, I felt , more that repaid the debt which was owed to Madame for all of her assistance those many months earlier.
I had equally by this time come to realise that I was growing more than a little fond of the magic white powder which I had come to learn was far more effective if ingested via the nasal cavity in line form. I came to love the daily dose of the powder which helped me to tolerate the worst excesses of my demeaning profession and put up with the demands of my Job, to the point that eventually I had come to depend on the powder to get through the worse of the day. Using the powder, I was able to increase the workload on my already overburdened dick in the interests of accumulating a wad of cash necessary to disembark from the way of life that temporarily held me back from the achievement of my goals and the fulfilment of my destiny. Madame conveniently supplied all of the powder necessary for the pursuit of my temporary trade or profession as the girls liked to call it.There was little or no chance of getting out the brothel until Madame had decided that my debt to her was paid and in this matter I found it very difficult to get any notion of exactly what amount of money I owed her. On this point she was most reluctant to divulge the details of our arrangement though I did eventually get her to agree a meeting but she was apparently,unfortunately detained and unable to meet me to discuss the matter. Some days later she did make an appearance once again to take the pleasure of my tool in her crude and rude abrupt manner. Around that time on her much resented visits to my chambers she had equally taken to lashing me with her whip which she always carried around with her. She found this activity highly amusing, though I found little funny in the scars which she left on my buttocks after a particularly violent and loathsome whipping which she administered when I attempted to ask her when I could leave her employ. Madame was livid with anger that I had the audacity to ask the question of her during the middle of her surge of pleasure .
I was duly tied down by the great lug of a bouncer and whipped to the point of unconsciousness by the hard and cruel taskmistress that I had come to have the misfortune to be working under. After that I decided that I was going to be on my way as soon as I could finalise my affairs with Madame and get what was owed to me, for along with all that I had saved up by way of tips from my grateful clients I had more than enough to continue on with my journey. It was definitely time for me to put my foot down and end this whole sorry period of my life. I had to get on with the business in hand and be away to the West with me. I constantly badgered Madams maid until I was given an appointment to see her again for she would not under any circumstances discuss matters of business when we, or rather she, was taking her regular pleasure from me in the love chamber. All the time of course I continued to service as many clients as I could possibly manage aided increasingly with the assistance of copious amounts of the white magic, a powder which by this time I had discovered was capable of maintaining an erection for an extraordinary length of time, much to the satisfaction of my increasing number of clients.
I had also discovered that I could indeed equally manage to satisfy those clients that I did not find even remotely attractive or desirable although I did I have to say I only provided the benefits of my by now extensive and sophisticated tongue techniques to those whom I found attractive and desirable for I was I must say almost addicted to the sweet taste of their love juices, wet and succulent I could by now even entice the female tool of love to ejaculate a fine and sweet spasm of pleasure by the application of pressure on the stomach area during a particularly deep insertion of the tongue into the love tunnel. I had darling Siam to thank for the gleaning of much of my knowledge and it was with the greatest of my own pleasure that I delivered of my skills to my most favoured customers. Not of course that I could be concerned about their needs for I had only one desire which was to be away off to the West as quickly as I could and no more messing about for I had already served my time sufficiently well to repay Madame for all she had done for me in saving my life.
I had to consider whether she would have been quiet so helpful if I had not been potentially of use to her and since then I had no doubt been of great economic advantage to her in the pursuit Of her illegal business, something of course which I somewhat put to the back of my mind and ignored, but something which nevertheless I was obviously a less than happy experience for as you know it was far from working as a prostitute I was reared and although I had absolutely no intentions of ever going back to the home land I at least didn't want to bring any more disgrace on the family than I no doubt already had, what with all the scandals I had been involved with , through sheer bad luck and the of course the whole manner of my final escape and the unfortunate incident with the Garda car .There was bound to be some manner of problems for the family back home already no doubt without adding to them by having my name in all the national papers for being some brand of prostitute if you don't mind, which of itself was bad enough but back beyond at home they would they would doubtless think I was after having one of those sex change operations for they would, like myself before I found myself in my present situation not even realise that it was possible to be a male prostitute.
No, I had made up my mind and as soon as my meeting with Madame was over then I would be on my way with a wad of cash in my pocket and the fulfilment of my destiny in my sights. I made my way up to Madams office and prepared to be as assertive as I could possibly manage in the circumstances and with the great lug of a bouncer hovering behind me with the usual level of menace he employed to intimidate and coerce others into doing his bidding , or rather Madams bidding and I had indeed heard that he was more than capable of brutality in the extreme when needed. That he was hovering about my person on the way into the meeting did nothing but strengthen my resolved to get out of the clutches of Madams grips as soon as possible. I kept my head high and my shoulders square as I proceeded to state my case.
"Madame, I need to talk to you concerning my position here", I began respectfully, aware that she was looking at me as thought I had a second head atop my shoulders. She did not answer but continued to consume smoke from her hashish hookah pipe at random intervals and succumb to the numbing effects of her intoxication as she let me continue to stand there looking at her, awaiting some manner of a reply. I tried to engage her attention a number of times but she was having little enough of it all and merely left me stand there all the time she was lost in the cloud of hashish smoke, awaiting her reply .Eventually , her great mass of grotesque rolling layers of fat and wart ridden face shifted in my direction ever so slightly and she appeared to finally acknowledge my existence.
"So, master Dick, (Which is what she usually referred to me as), your not happy here then?" she asked of me.
The bitch, I thought, she’s immediately putting me on the defensive before I had even the opportunity to get my oar in. I suspected that I wasn't the first one to have this type of conversation with her`.
"Oh no Madame, you've being very good to me indeed , I must take the opportunity to thank you for all your assistance and of course helping me out in the many ways that you have," I lied.
"Well, there’s no problem then is there, your happy and I’m happy with the work that your doing here so we have no problem with each other as I see it, don't you also see it that way ?"
"Oh yes indeed Madame," I answered regretting immediately that I was yet again agreeing with her.
"We have nothing to discuss then," she continued, directing her remarks towards the great Lug who prepared to move towards the door to open it for my departure. Wouldn't you think that is correct Danial? She spoke as she referred to the great ignorant ugly and arrogant lug of a fool that she used to enforce her position on the girls when they didn't do her bidding. I had never heard his name before, but somehow it suited to call him Danny the Lug, it was a name with something of a sinister air about it.
I was glad I was of a different position as the other people working in the brothel and that I was in the happy situation of having Madame owing me money and not the other way around as was sadly the case for a few of the girls Others merely were happy to have a means to earn a few bob to save up for whatever it was that they wanted to do with their lives, and for the ones who had a goal in mind there was no doubt but that they could earn the few quick pounds in order to make a better life for themselves, if they were willing to put up with unsavoury work for a few years. However, none of that was any of my concern, only getting out of there was important to me and I was not going to be side railed in my pursuit of my objectives, of that I was sure. I was not under any circumstances going to be led astray from the objectives of the conversation and decided to jump in at the deep end and tell her I thought it was time for me to be on me way.
"Madame, as I have said, I really must consider my position here for I feel it is time for me to be on my way and there's little else for me to say on the subject if you don't mind." I had looked her straight in the eye as I had said my piece and I can tell you she looked as if she had a bit of respect for the way I had handled the situation I can tell you. She looked to her thick headed enforcer and he looked to her and then the pair of them burst out laughing and this I felt was a good sign, for if they were to have seen my tack as threatening then the reaction would have not I suspected have been as cheerful as it appeared to be. She instructed the lug of a fool to go to the accounts department and bring my file. I felt this was a good sign too. In the mean time she told me to take a seat near her and she offered me a blast off the hookah pipe which I gratefully accepted and for the moments that the Lug was off doing her bidding I felt sure that I was in control of the situation and would be gone from the brothel soon enough and on my way.
Eventually the lug returned with filings that were presumably related to my period of work in the oldest of professions. She took the file and perused it. I was anxious to ascertain how much I would be able to walk away with for my savings from tips, though reasonably substantial would be insufficient to allow me to make a good start in the West. I waited anxiously as she took her calculator and totted up a string of accounts and which took a bit of time as she had some amount of business to calculate and I was hopeful that my settlement was going to be of a substantial order. Eventually she turned to me to speak.
"Well, this may not work out exactly as you may see it" she said. I could live with that, at this stage even taking less than I knew I was due I could live with for all I wanted was to be on me way and off outta there regardless of how much she was ripping me off. She was a nasty piece of work anyway and I had no reason to expect that she was going to do anything other than what I thought she was going to do , which was take a slice of my money above and byond what she was due as her share. The girls had warned me that she was this way inclined at the best of times.
"Well master Dick ", she began as I held my breath and waited expectantly for the end payment figure that would allow me to be on my way," you appear to have taken up a considerable liking for the Cocaine?" she continued. I had to admit to her that I had indeed managed to get through some considerable quantity of the substance in the last few months and that there was no denying that I would not have been able to work so proficiently if I had not had access to the quantities of the substance that were knocking around, for the work of the tool of magnificence required plenty of the magic sauce to get through the quantities of clients that I managed to get through in a day. “Well, that's hardly here or there” Madame I heard myself say wondering what exactly she was getting on about.
"Oh but my darling Dick, I’m afraid it is, in fact it's the main point we need to talk about."
So this was her tack, she was going to sting me for the few bob for the coke. Well I could live with that and good riddance was all that I could think. I braced myself for what was doubtless going to be an amount of money much reduced in what I was expecting or indeed due for that matter.
"The thing of it is Dick, my Master Dick," she continued chuckling to her self as we sat opposite to each other definitely on a path to confrontation. "Well, how shall I put it,"she continued, “there is in fact no easy way to tell you this but you do in fact owe me money”.Now it was my turn to laugh and if she seriously thought that I was going to be handing over a wad of cash she definitely had something else coming, so naturally I let rip with the laughing my self I can tell you. So there we all were, the great lug of a gobshite known as Danial included, all breaking our bollixes laughing. The whole scene would have been funny except that as we kept laughing we knew that we were all bloody serious in our view points and that this whole meeting was taking on a turn which was to say the least uncomfortable and at best downright bloody worrying.
The laughter died down to an uncomfortable silence and we all settled into our positions without any one taking the lead in continuing the conversation. Eventually Madame took the file up off the table and looked at it again and shook her head in a sort of serious manner.” "I`m very serious about this matter" she continued. "You have spent far more on your drug of choice than you have earned in the time that you have been here - after all your Medical expenses were deducted, I’m afraid your increasing love for the Latin American marching powder has meant that you have been working less for yourself and more for the drug cartels over in Columbia. It will, I estimate, take some months for you to pay back what you owe, and even at that you would want to lay off the sauce if you are to have any hope of ever getting the Hell out of here, for I’m afraid that I don't really pay you enough to manage the habit that you have acquired lately".
Both herself and the Lug broke into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, they were both obviously very happy with them selves and it gave them no end of pleasure to continue chortling at my expense as I sat there dumbfounded. I complained bitterly at the manner of my treatment and Madame showed me the accounts and sure enough It appeared on paper at least that I did indeed owe a substantial debt, and judging by what she had said I would indeed be some months about paying off what I owed, if indeed I ever managed to clear it all together. There was no doubt that I was well and truly snookered and the menacing looks that the great Lug was giving me the more I complained about my position and the manner of my treatment the more threateningly he began to focus in my direction.
Eventually the temper got the better of me as I could no longer stand to listen to the carry on of the both of them and this of course was the cue for yerman to let rip altogether and grab me by the scruff of the neck. He manhandled me something terrible all the way back up to the pleasure chamber as madame referred to all the work rooms. The great lug managed to get in a few good swipes and a kick or two, just to remind me he said that I was only a wee helpless tart, and that I wouldn't be going any where until my debt was paid and I had exhausted my usefulness to Madame, so I had better just accept the situation and get the Hell on with things and try to get in Madams good books for my attitude really was not up to what was demanded by the good and generous benefactor who had taken me up off the street when she could have left me there to die without any hope. It appeared I was going to be listening to this carry on for God knows how long, though I never got to hear much about how I had earned the business a substantial amount of income of which to date I had received absolutely nothing, and now indeed in fact I apparently owed money. There was nothing for it but to plan my escape for there was never going to be any shift in your wans attitude until she had exhausted me to the point that I was of no use to her. By that time I would doubtless not be of much use to myself either, I suspected, if I let your wan have her way. The girls said escape was impossible if Madame had decided that you were in danger of running off, though I had to confess that I had a different situation to the girls as most of them worked because they needed the money or were saving up for something. They could come and go as they pleased bar the odd one who may have owed Madame a few bob and were not allowed out of the building until the debt was paid off or nearly paid off. I on the other hand was the only male working in the building and Madame had decided I was something special for I had to admit that I had added an element to the service she provided that obviously aided the overall development of the business. It was no secret that she was on the look out for new male talent and that she considered me only the beginning of her stable of studs that she was trying to accumulate in order to open up the female market somewhat. This was very popular over in Europe by all accounts. I had to consider that she was not going to be very inclined to let me away that easy and I had probably already been far too naive in allowing her to dupe me in the way she just had. As I licked my wounds from the thrashing that I had received from the thick Lug I decided there and then I would have to escape, and even if one or two of the girls had tried and failed I would at least have the advantage of greater strength and cunning as a country boy to give me a crucial advantage over the security measures designed to keep me in my place. There was no point in attracting attention I decided as I sat in my chamber licking my wounds and so I acted put out for a few days, which wasn't too hard to act as you can imagine after all I had been through, and then appear to accept my lot and renew my efforts to escape the situation by working hard to pay off my debt to Madame.
This plan I have to report worked excellently and I was considered trustworthy enough to be allowed a limited amount of freedom on the floor where my chamber was. Though I was never allowed downstairs or even outside like most of the other workers. I was too special to risk losing and Madame was of course right for there was no way that I would stay the minute longer than I had to. I had stayed off the sauce as well and thought I missed the invigorating effects of cocaine in my line of work and was less able to handle the number of clients that I had formerly ,I was careful to let Madame see I was serious about my debt and desirous of clearing it and being on my way.
Of course I had to make up my money someway. I started demanding bigger and bigger tips from my clients, which I can tell you they didn't like at first, but eventually to a lady they relented to pay up for full repertoire of my now considerable talents as a stud. I had, through the force of necessity become ruthless in the pursuit of my objective of escape , particularly when one of the clients let slip how much Madame charged for my services as I was trying to extract a bigger tip from her by refusing to lick her gateway to the love passage. I was indeed outraged when I heard what Madame took for my services I can tell you , but what I had discovered only strengthened my resolve even more to escape the captivity I found myself in. Over the next few weeks I concentrated on finding a way out of the three story Victorian building and did my best to try and peek at the surrounding city as best as I could from the few skylights that I could see out from. I appeared to be in the centre of a fairly run down district with plenty of fine looking redbrick buildings. All had a slightly shabby appearance. There were one or two warehouse looking buildings and an imposing though abandoned building. It was an old hospital apparently. I could only make out my immediate area and I did not even know where the centre of the city lay, for I knew that to be safely away from the` Clutches of the Madame I would need to get into the city centre where there would hopefully be lots of crowds that I could disappear into. At night the whole area was almost deserted bar for the odd car or two driving along. I did notice that there were quiet a few trucks parked along the street late at night so I thought I may be able to find refuge in one of them as many had a sleeping cabin. Whatever I was going to do I knew I had to be doing it quick once I got away out of the building for there was plenty of opportunity for the great Lug to track me down in the vast open spaces between the brothel and what appeared to be the first reasonable part of the area to afford any opportunity to hide from view of the brothel. I had found out that there were three other bouncers in the brothel and a few more lads hanging around always available to back up the main fellows in the event of trouble. From what little I had picked up of the gang war that had been going on for a good few years with the Mulligan, there was apparently every need for the Mulligan clan to keep a good troop of supporters always ready and available to go to war. I had heard that it was no accident that I had been kept by the Gallaghers regardless of the commercial advantages offered by magnificent tool of pleasure. Siam had let slip that the Gallaghers had really taken me in after their foolish troops had thrown me out of the van on Benburb street and only later realised the implications of their actions when they sat down and considered how the Mulligan clan might react because I had been taken from disputed territory which was in the first place sufficient to cause a battle of major proportions. I was apparently as much hostage as whore. So whatever way I looked at it, the Gallaghers had little or no vested interest in letting me go any where.
All in all, there was little doubt but that I would never be let out to roam the streets of Dublin for fear that the opposition would ever find anything out about the manner of my treatment and subsequent enslavement. All in all, I was currently a major embarrassment to them if word got out what had happened to me and reached the ears of the Mulligans. Indeed , the more I considered the position the more it appeared to me that the Mulligans could never afford to let me get the opportunity to talk about my captivity and therefore I had to consider that when I was no longer of use to them I would merely become a problem to be eliminated. What would the end result of that be I asked myself and I had to consider that ultimately I would be only silenced by the ultimate sanction, a bullet In the head. The reality of my position was made all the more aware to me as I finalised the escape route I would take without the benefit of proper maps and only scant information that I had gleaned from eavesdropping on conversations and other odd snatched bits of low level intelligence without arousing too much attention. The weeks rolled by and I was sure that I had found a means of escaping out from the building via a route down the roof to the street, or at least from the little I could see of the route there was every chance that the route I had planed could work.
I did not know if it was going to be possible to get away without being noticed, for I had only ever had the opportunity to see one floor of the building and therefore I was unable to know what exactly was happening on different floors. Though the route in my mind may well have been a complete non starter, I had little choice but to have a go at breaking for freedom. I was not even aware if my escape route could be observed from one of the windows down through the floors that I would have to shin down. There was no telling what chance there was of my plan succeeding until I had made my dash for freedom unfortunately that was the crux of the problem. I could not know much of the world outside until I had made the leap of faith, which without foreknowledge could be a jump into the lions den. However I had no choice whatsoever in the matter for I knew I was doomed if I chose to stay where I was. There was no telling that they might just finish me off to ensure that I never opened my mouth to the world about my experiences, or more particularly tell their arch rivals the Mulligans.
All in all, I had the distinct impression that the Gallaghers had absolutely no desire to see me on the streets of Dublin at any time in the future, no doubt about it but that I had only one option for survival - and that was escape.
Why did I always find myself on the run I wondered?
That was a question I had to sit down to answer one day, if I survived the situation I found myself in. Over the next few weeks I paid attention to the moon cycles and tried to anticipate when the next full moon would be for the street lighting in the area surrounding the brothel was scant at best and I would need some moonlight in order to make good my escape. I imagined the brickwork and piping that I was going to have to scale down would be hazardous enough without the added necessity of overwhelming darkness. Luckily I had always paid close attention to the moon cycles and could reasonably well calculate the phases of the moon. Sometimes I thanked God I was a country boy.
The days of the moon cycle rolled on and I fixed on a day to make good my escape from the captivity that had become my miserable existence. Though I told nobody that I was planning to run I suspected that Siam had a clue and she dropped as many hints that she knew I was up to something. But she was told nothing for I liked her but I was never altogether sure which way her loyalties lay, for if push came to shove there was no way she was going to back me instead of Madame, for the pursuit of her own agenda lay in her working at the brothel until she had achieved her goals. I kept my gob shut I can tell you, not a living soul would hear about my plans. I collected the bits and bobs I would need to make good my escape. I gathered and fashioned what tools I could and over a few days I worked the windows that I would need to get loose in order to get on to the roof. If my investigations proved correct there was a parapet that I could make my way along until I could eventually shin down the piping system, which though it appeared to be very old cast iron, I though it looked very sturdily secured to the wall. There was no way I was really going to know one way or the other until I was going to try and scale down the thing. There was basically every chance that my whole plan was ill conceived and doomed to failure. That was the risk though, life or liberty, an all or nothing make or break attempt at the thing. Freedom or be damned - at any cost. Finally the big night came and I worked servicing my usual quota of clients during the day and extracted what tips I could knowing that I may not be able to earn a great deal more for some considerable time to come. I went to Madame to enquire what progress I had made with paying off my debts to which she replied little enough with all the interest added and that I had a lot more work to do in order to clear off all the outstanding monies owed.I only hoped that she would be sitting in the same place on the morrow when I had made good my bid for freedom and she had the smirk knocked off her ugly wart ridden and evil looking visage. I retired to my chambers early, claiming that I was tired after the hard days shagging. Back in my chambers I gathered the few tools I had fashioned from every day objects to help in my escape bid. I waited until things had quietened down and when I spied the great Lug of a gobshite settle down for the night I knew the time had come to make my move and be on my way. I proceeded to the end of the corridor which housed my chamber and prised the lock from the door in order to open the flimsy device and get onto the main hall way that would allow me to access the roof area. I had quietly worked on the lock in the door for a few days and with a minimum of prising the door opened and I slipped into the next hallway.
The main hallway was the most dangerous part of the plan for Madams room was located near the window that I would need to make good my escape. So also close to the window was the sleeping quarters of the great Lughead enforcer Dainel. I knew for a fact that he often smoked a strong pipe of hashish before retiring and was dead to the world until the morning time. There was little enough chance of him waking up and equally there was little enough chance of Madame wandering out for she was a lazy bitch who would only get her arse up off the chaise lounge to fuck or use the bog, and even on the later I heard that she was so lazy that recently she had taken to keeping a potty under her chaise lounge for she had become so incapable of moving that she now even found the effort of going to the bathroom more than she could manage. So, if she kept her current lapadaisical life style she was bound to become little more than a fucking and eating machine.
I pitied the next poor sod she would find to perform sexual favours on her. I was repulsed even at the thought of licking her off that the next hapless recruit would have to endure. I had done my share of repulsive acts to please that woman I can tell you, and believe me the pleasure was all on the receiving end for she was a repulsive and foul being, and if my plans went right I would never have to have anything more to do with her. If my plans didn't go according to plan the I would doubtless be licking the demon off for some time to come. If indeed she didn't extract the ultimate penalty for my attempted escape should I fail. I had no doubt in my mind that I was in a life or death situation here and that I could not afford to fail. It was now or never. I could only go forward for there was nothing that tempted me to think that I was going to be let away from the clutches of the Madame.
Yet again as I made my way to the stepping off point I found myself in a position where I was fighting for my freedom with no way of going back and only possibilities for going forward in my mind.
I steeled myself for what I hoped was going to be my last lurch for freedom.

Chapter 7
I made my way to the parapet of roof and slowly started to inch along as best I could. I would have to keep the rope I had fashioned from sheets for the trickiest part of the escape, for once I had used it I would not be able to retrieve it again. I had elected to keep the thing for the lurch between the end of the parapet that I was on and the pipe I would have to shin down to make good my bid for freedom. Thankfully the parapet of the building provided a nice ledge that allowed me to make my way over to the drain pipe that I had spied from my room. I hoped shinning down the pipe would allow me to hit to the far end of the building where I knew that I had the best chance of making my decent onto the ground floor of the building from which I had spied a flat roof that I hoped would allow me to drop down onto the street and away with me.
There was nothing for it at this stage but to drop down the pipe which I was hopeful would carry my weight all the way down to the flat roof and not disappear half way down into some manner of a twist in the design of the building. I could only spy the roof side entry for the pipe and I knew not how far the pipe went, for it was an old building with all manner of strange twists and turns that may well have seen the pipe all the way down to the flat roof and away with me, or not. As I started down the piping system I felt that I had a real chance of success and that I would soon be on my way to the West I had started off towards many a long month before. I knew that at this stage I had to make a final go of my bid West as I had been gone from the home land long enough to be gone a bit further than I had currently got.
There was little enough that I could be doing more than I already was to further my cause and I only knew at this stage that I could not afford to think the worst and must ensure that I held only thoughts of the positive in my mind for I could not contemplate failure. Fortunately all went well until I got to the edge of the building and looked down the sheer face of the wall dropping to the flat roof that I could now see would allow me the access to street level that I had hoped it would. However, immediately I could see that the piping system was not the answer to my problems that I had hoped. The down pipe was literally built into the wall and was not likely to offer me much in the way of a grip for and there was little or no protrusion of the pipe out from the runnel that it sat into. Presumably the Victorian architects had designed the piping system to stop crafty burglars getting up the building to break in, but I was equally as incapable of using the system to break out. The rope I had fashioned was completely useless for the task in hand and I would have to free fall jump to the flat roof l once the rope ran out. I could cancel the whole operation for today and go ahead at a future date, but the windows and doors I had used to make good my escape would reveal my attempt to escape. The security staff in the brothel would not need to be rocket scientists to know that I was the only likely suspect, and the discovery of this attempt would only doubtless lead to even more tight security measures that would make a future bid all but impossible .
That was basically the long and the short of it. Now or never. There was all but one chance for me to make my move and now was that chance for I had little possibility to go again if I failed in this attempt. The scan around what of the roof top I could access left me in little doubt that the only chance I had was the one which I already was embarked upon The drop from the flat roof appeared twelve feet or so and I had hope I would be not so injured. I was less fit than I might have been since I had spent so long in restrictive confinement .I had to hope that I would be able to manoeuvre the drop in such a way that I could roll on landing on the flat roof and at least break my fall.There was only one shot at freedom and it was here and now so I must not fail.I steeled myself for the attempt and I put my homemade rope around the best anchor that I could find and prepared to make my bid for freedom. I tied the makeshift rucksack to my back and swung over the side on the building and slowly and carefully made my way down the rope as best I could. All the while I was mentally steeling myself for the big drop that I knew to be waiting for me once I got to the end of the rope. Finally I had come to the end and then fell as best as I could and tried to break my fall with an effort to roll when I hit the ground.
Alas, even as I hit the ground I could feel the force of the fall snap my ankle and it was with every ounce of effort I could muster that I managed to suppress the pain that welled up inside of me. I lay on the ground barely able to move for the force of agony. There was only one place I had to focus on getting and that was as far away from here as I possibly could. I took a deep breath and tried to pull my self up, but alas to no avail. The foot was too badly sprained that I could not get a working response from it. I rummaged around in my makeshift holdall and fashioned a supporting splinter which allowed me to painfully pull myself up and start to drag myself away from the building. There was thankfully no commotion from the brothel so it would appear that I had indeed managed to make good my escape , so far .I would now need to consolidate the bid by getting to ground level and getting as far away from the area as quickly as possible. I could not even think of going to the police as there was no way of knowing if I was wanted by them for all the carry on that I once had the unfortunate displeasure to be involved with way back the in another country called the homeland. No, the best I could hope for was that my bid would get me to the bus station and I could then make my way to the West and freedom. I was thankful to have the few bob I had put together over the months. I gathered my steely determination as best as I could and lunged over the side of the building and managed to make it to ground level without doing any further damage to my self, though my leap did have the affect of consolidating the injuries that I had already managed to acquire. Worst I knew that progress was likely to be slow to say the least with the burden of the injured foot to also contend with. I hobbled with excruciating pain as best to the warehouse across the street and continued towards the direction that I had taken to be the city.
With every painful step I knew freedom to be getting closer and closer and the past was finally starting to become just that, the past. There was a growing sense within myself that I could master this escape and win my freedom. I was hopeful that the time lag I would have at my advantage between my escaping and the security finding out about my dash for freedom would be enough to see me right .I felt that I deserved a break. Whether the Gods granted me one or not was another matter. In the deep of my heart I hoped that the Hardships or the past meant that the destiny would finally look kindly upon me. My day I was sure had finally come. There was a growing feeling that I was going to make my final destination, a feeling that even dulled the horrendous pain I was living with every step. The West awaited. Progress was understandably slow and within fifteen minutes of my escape I had managed no more than a few hundred metres from the brothel and knew that I would need far greater distance put between myself and the brothel before morning if I was to have any hope of succeeding in my escape bid. There was hope that I could get a taxi cab though I had seen little movement but was still ever hopeful that I could hail a passing cab and so be assured of making good my escape. That was overall my best possibility. Hobbled painfully for a good three quarters of an hour before I finally allowed myself a break and sat for a moment. I had bought with me a good swig of whiskey to dull the cold of the night and I thankfully took a snifter or two to help relieve the worst of the pain. I reviewed my progress and decided the best course of action was to keep going as I was and head for the direction I was already on in the knowledge that It was as good a course of action as any. Possibly even the best course of action as there were few if any other possibilities.
I was somewhat disappointed that I didn't see much life about me for the area was even more deserted than I had ever thought it to be from the scant information I had gleaned looking out my windows, though in fairness I was hardly expecting much more in the darkness of night. I knew from what I was able to see down to road level from the captivity that the area was quiet even during the day but I was shocked to discover exactly just how deserted the entire area actually was. I stayed sitting only long enough to relieve the pressure on my foot and give the whiskey time to work its numbing magic on my central nervous system. Duly relived momentarily from the searing pain in my increasingly swollen foot I mentally prepared to continue my escape. I hauled myself up as best as I could and continued on my not so merry way. Progress was even more difficult as the swelling on my foot continued to worsen until there was little I could do but rest every ten minutes or so, and still I had seen no vehicle of any sort that might possibly take me to my freedom. Finally I heard the sound of a car. I quickly hid in the dark light of the nearest shadow and happily saw that the vehicle was a taxi. My heart jumped for joy and I ran out to hail the vehicle that would take me to my freedom.
Slowly the taxi came to a halt and eventually stopped. I imagined a cab driver would be somewhat careful in such an area in the depth of the night - especially with a punter who was in the eyes of an onlooker the worst for wear with the convoluted bandage that I had around my leg and the huxterley looking rucksack that adorned my back. Thankfully he appeared to decide that I wasn't some manner of an arch criminal or potential mugger and after having a good look at me he eventually opened the door and spoke in a thick and guttural Dublin accent.
"Where in the name of Jaysus are you going to at this hour of the morning in that state?"
"I’m off to the bus station, or the train station, wherever I can get transport over to the West quickest."
"West Dublin," he inquired of me?
"No,West of bloody Ireland," I snapped back at him perhaps at little unreasonably, for he was hardly to know I was bound to be as far away from any part of Dublin as I could.
"Well, that’ll be down at Houston station, there's a train that runs early in the morning, though I don't know exactly what time I think its about seven. You`ll have a bit of a wait, sher its only after three about now. There’s a coffee shop I think that you can get a bite to eat in from about six or so." He opened the door and bid me enter, having decided that I was a worthy cause for carriage despite my dishevelled state.
Relieved I got in to the cab and finally felt that I was on my way and that my plan had some chance for success. I felt little like talking but your man was determined to keep talking a constant stream of shitte as long as he had me trapped in a position where I was powerless to do anything to resist the flow of verbiage. Eventually he got around to the question that I suspected he had been wanting to ask even before I got into the cab and which indeed I was surprised wasn't the very first thing to pop in to head to enquire about.
"So, what in the name of God has you wandering around the streets of the capital at this unholy hour, wha ?"
Obviously I had plenty of time to dream up an appropriate response to such a question, but with all the mental effort that had gone into surviving the conditions that I had been in for many a long month I had failed to prepare for what was such an obvious question. I found myself blurting out something really stupid like I was trying to find my aunts house to stay for the night on my way over to the West and ended up getting lost. That was hardly much of an explanation in itself and in no way satisfied the driver. He wouldn't let go of his line of questioning until I wised up and thought to say that really I had been mugged and that I was too embarrassed to say. This finally satisfied his curiosity and he became happy to indulge me in an appropriate amount of sympathetic noise making. That was all well and good, but I got the shock of my life when I saw that the route he was taking was going to go straight by the brothel. As we drove by the building that had held me captive for so long, I held my head down, and hoped for the best. I got a further shock when as we approached when I saw the great lug frantically running around the building with a few other similar looking gobshittes for company searching this way and that .
The game obviously was up and they had discovered my disappearance, which meant that I would have less time now to make my escape in a timely fashion before they had their lot out on the street looking for me. I thought of getting the cab driver to turn around and bring me back to the city centre where I supposed I could better disappear into the crowds but I calculated that I had only a few hour`s or so to hide away at the station before the train that would take me to the West - and freedom. I decided to hold my ground and keep to the plan that had unwittingly made its way towards me. We weren't long about arriving at the station and I was soon sitting in a snug little café drinking some brand of a foreign coffee called an espresso. God but they had the strangest of thing up in the capital, that was for sure, and no doubt about it. I had to say though as the strong coffee warmed my heart and invigorated my soul there was little enough for it but to sit back and wait for the train that was due to leave in less than an hours time I had happily learned.I figured I would go and hide in the toilets for at least there I would be able to hide in one of the cubicles and be less exposed to the world.
I bought my ticket and mentally made a note of the track that I was to be heading off on and made my way into the bathroom, where I hid away in a cubicle.Thankfully I was able to take recourse to a small quantity of cocaine that I had stashed away for my escape bid knowing its energy inducing properties and stamina sustaining abilities. Quietly I took a few lines of the white powder and immediately felt better. The pain in my left foot was quelled at least temporarily and my level of mental alertness increased instantly so that I could finally manage to concentrate upon a plan to take me away from Dublin with the mental clarity it needed. I knew the train was my best bet, but I felt sure I would expose myself if I just walked into the gate area and decided that I must somehow get on to the train via the track network from the side other than the main platform. Luckily I could see most of the station yard from one of the toilet windows. I figured out that I could manage to find a route around the side of the station, and then hopefully across through the marshalling area. From there it appeared that I could make my way without being seen towards the area that would present the side of the train I needed to allow me to board with the minimum risk of being noticed. No doubt about it, but that I was putting my life at risk if I failed and I was recaptured by the mob. There would be no mercy shown to me. I had heard stories of exactly the kind of carry on to expect if things went wrong and they got hold of me.
I sat out the hours in the bog, taking the odd hit from the dwindling supply of cocaine. Each and every line helped me to keep my spirits high, literally, and the energy levels up and the excruciating pain of my by now spectacularly swollen foot kept at bay. Finally the time drew near and I could see from the seclusion of my toilet window see passengers already boarding the train. Eventually I had decided that time was drawing on and that there was nothing for it but for me to make a move. I could wait no longer I eventually decided risk the move and take my chances. I could see none of the gallutes from the brothel and eventually I knew the time for the last mad dash had arrived.The final and last dash I hoped at this stage, after all the tribulations I had already been forced to suffer. I hobbled as best as I could, aided by the wonderful stimulating effects of the Columbian marching powder. I eventually made it to the edge of the marshalling area where carefully I slinked across to the boundary of the station and made my way as deftly as I could to the first train that was laid up waiting to move off. I manoeuvred that obstacle successfully by crawling under the carriages. I then made my way to the most dangerous part of the operation - the area around the platforms that allowed viewers from the main station area to see the activities that were going on , including the station personnel.
I looked as best as I could to see if any one was watching me, but there appeared to be no undue interest in the exposed area of station track from any one who appeared to be standing on the platform area. All in all , things appeared to be working out well and as far as I could make out. There was little enough I could do at this point only take my chances and be on that train when it left the station. I made my move across the open expanse of track after checking the lie of the land and satisfying myself that the coast was relatively clear. The seconds of the crossing seemed like minutes. I breathed a sigh of relief as I hoisted myself up to the carriage door and finally entered the iron tube to freedom. I had made it. I was home and dry. I walked as best as I could to the nearest available seat and slumped into it with a tiredness the likes of which I have never known. I had made my entry on to the train in the nick of time it would appear. No sooner had I sat than the train began to move off and slowly and steadily we began to make our move out from the station.
I could barely keep my eyes open for the sheer exhaustion that I suffered and it was with great effort I forced myself to stay awake to be sure to see at least at little bit of Dublin before I had left the place forever. I doubted that I would be coming back in too much of a hurry in the future. I thought I was suffering a delusion as I looked towards the opening carriage of the train to see the great Lug coming my way, and he had spied me just as soon as I had laid my eyes on him. Both of us stalled momentarily as recognition crossed the path of our eyes and we both had a look that suggested neither of us was going to give way to the other willingly.
I had little or no time to decide upon a course of action which was either to attempt to stay on the train or to jump off now and make what ever sort of a run for it that I could. I had no choice really but to make it out of the relatively slow moving train and try and get back to the station where I could hopefully attract the attention of a Garda, for at this stage the prospect of spending time with the Garda over my few mishaps in the past was more enticing than having to deal with the retribution that the big Lug would doubtless be extracting upon getting me back to the brothel.I summoned up all my energy as Danny the Lug made his way down the carriage with a thick arsed grin all across his Eastern European face, smiling no doubt at the thought of what he was going to do to me when he got me back to the brothel. I doubted he was on his own. No doubt others of his gang were on board. That however was not going to stop me having a go at a last chance for freedom. I wasn't going to wait around for the rest of his mob to join him and it make if easier for him to get his hands on me. I imagined they would be happy to just drag me off bodily and on to the marshalling yards even with all the other passengers looking on, so confident were all these buckos of their power in this neck of the woods. There was nothing for it but to pre-empt their actions as I charged for the back of the carriage after sticking a huge line of the energy inducing powder into my mouth to give me some manner of numbness that would allow me to run as fast as I could possibly on my increasingly painful leg.
Well I bolted outta the seat and caught the great Lug by surprise it would appear, for he stood there momentarily stunned. He was taken aback I do believe that I had the audacity to do such a thing. However he wasn't long about making up for lost time and bolted directly after me , but not quiet in good enough time for I had by then already made the leap down to the tracks and was hobbling as best as I could away from the marshalling yard and away towards the side of the station. There with a bit of luck I might be able to find my way out of the station yard and on to the street,or indeed make it back to the station platform where I could possibly attract the attention of a cop. Well, I booted Hell for leather all right and charged as best as I could given the restrictions of my exhaustion and damaged foot. However, out of the corner of my eye I noticed the big Lug had not even managed to get off the train which was by now moving. I was hopeful that I could make it and get away, with a bit of luck. The train was starting to travel at slow speed by the time I eventually caught sight of the Lug alighting. He was looking mean I can tell you. I was disappointed to note that he was in the company of two helpers, obviously the reason for his delay being that he had gone back to collect his underlings. The two underlings, being young and fit were coming at me by the good pace. It wasn't long before they were making good progress. I noticed a freight train coming my way and realised that if I could manage to hitch on it then I could have some hope of putting distance between myself and Lugs lads.Though I could not hope to hold on to the train for any length of time with the state of exhaustion that I was suffering, I at least I could put enough distance between us to ensure that I had a real chance of getting away.Well, I made my way on to the ladders at the end of the freight load and scrambled onto the standing board before the Lugs lads had a chance to get across the path of the train which was blocking their hope of getting to me. Suddenly they realised what I had done.It was at that moment that I saw the Lug draw for his trouser belt a revolver. He drew the gun towards me and took aim .
I had nowhere to hide. First one shot, then another and another again hit the carriages around me. The third shot hit its mark and I felt a searing bolt of pain run through my thigh as I fell to the ground and lapsed into unconsciousness falling off the running board of the train, and onto the track. Hitting hard. Well, as I fell in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes I knew that I was totally fucked. God alone only knew what punishment she was liable to extract from me for having the audacity to escape. The worst of it was that now they would know that I hadn’t believed a word of the stories that they had told about letting me go after they had received payment for their debt owed. They would now know that I would be even harder to control in future. I had become an embarrassment to them and they would only be happy when they had made a good example of me. They appeared to be taking me to the brothel from what I could gather in between moments of consciousness. I remember arriving at the brothel and being thrown back into my chamber where I lapsed into unconsciousness. I can only vaguely remember what happened for the next few days. I do recall the doctor calling in on me and an injection or two that he gave and I also remember getting my wounds dressed and the occasional visit from Madame and the constant attentions of the Lug who was ever present to watch over me.
Well, I do not know how long I spent in that state but I do know that it was some considerable time. After about a week or so I came properly to and examined my wounds. I could barely even move a muscle at this stage so black and blue was I all over. My heart sank with the recognition that I was now back to square one again, and worse.
I had now been chained by the foot to the end of the bed. I was at least still alive. Perhaps Madame was not going to bump me off. Why keep me alive and pay for the doctor to visit only to kill me? The bullet wound thankfully turned out to be nothing more than a scratch was well on the way to healing after a few days. There would soon be the inevitable meeting with Madame. It was not long in the coming. Some days after I had come to and was feeling better the great Lug came into the chamber and started thrashing the living day lights out of me. This was the start of it I thought as I rolled into the foetal position to protect myself as best as I could. The reign of punches was fierce and unremitting for what seemed like an endless time but in reality was probably no more than a minute or two. Finally the great Lug let off with the thumping and the ugly bitch herself wandered in like lady muck and with an attitude that could have fuelled a power station for a month of Sundays. The Lug grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and forced me to lie prostate in front of Madame. One of her other attendants bought in a chair for her to sit on, for she was so big she could not stand for even a few moments without exhausting her self. Well I was for the treatment all right for she parted her legs and lifted up her gown to reveal the great mass of repulsive flesh that flapped ungraciously between her bulging thighs. The first task of my humiliation was to lick the regal pussy to the point of her organism, a considerably difficult task that required something of the skill of a miner to dig through the reams of flab to get to the required bits and pieces in order to satisfy the Madame. I did a good job I can tell you and managed to satisfy her no end for I was determined to try and elicit what goodwill as I could from her. I was well aware that my very life was in her hands. No doubt about it. That t was for sure. Well, she appeared happy enough with the results and somewhat more relaxed than when she came in by the time she started delivering the little set piece speech she had obviously prepared in her mind earlier.
"You have caused me much trouble and great inconvience,"she started. I was in no position to disagree with her, for I was surely not that entirely interested in her worries. What could I say to that only nod my head in agreement and acknowledge the fact of the truth of her words. This was to be an entirely one way conversation."I have been in a quandary about deciding what to do with you, for there is no doubt about it but that I have to make some example of you or I’ll have pure anarchy going on around here. We can’t have that can we Danny? The great Lug was only too happy to agree with her. She continued, “I can’t have everyone who works here doing what they want or I’d might as well just give up all together .Don't you agree?”
I muttered something along the lines of understanding what she meant, and that I could see things from her point of view.
She wasn't finished yet though. “ Well, my security wanted to plug you for target practice. A fine end and just reward for your intransigence I might add, for I have little doubt but that you deserve the harshest of punishment’s for all the inconvenience that you have caused. "Yes Madame", I replied pathetically trying to search for something intelligent to say. I did try to open my gob to offer up a few pathetic excuses for my stupid carry on. However , as soon as I opened my gob I got such a clatter on the face from Lug that I was left in no doubt atall as to what was expected of me by way of contribution to the conversation. Well, I lay prostate in chains with the foul taste of Madame still on my lips and with little doubt as to what I was to do. I was to shut up and listen. Well, there was little doubt that I knew where we all stood and what my future held if I wasn't going to play the game their way. I shut me gob so and put up with her self indulgent ranting as she continued to wallow in telling me of the inconvenience I had created for her. Well, she left me in little doubt as to my future either.
"The only reason that I am going to allow you to live is because you have something which is a very valuable commodity to me, and since you have been out of action my clients have been getting restless and I don't mind admitting that despite attempts to replace you I have been unable to find any talent as, well ,shall we say substantial as yours".At this they all burst into a fit a hyena like laughter. "Well, there was nothing for it but to allow you to live so that I could keep my clients happy , though I have to say to you that there was plenty of opposition from the security personnel. They wanted to plug you. So, my young stud, the long and the short of it is that if you want to live then you had better play by my rules, or I’ll hand you over to security to do what they like with you and then you'll be regretting the day that you decided to cross me a second time. And just in case you have any more smart ideas about escaping then you had better know that we have come up with a little plan to keep you under control, and rest assured you will stay here until you are no use to the clients or me. So get used to it or be prepared to end your days at the hands of my less than gentle security men. Now, just so that all the other workers know that you'll not be a shining example to their own little plans for exercising personal initiative we need to do something to provide a deterrent to the others”.
At this she left and the great Lug had one of his helpers come in with a series of shackles and over the next hour they drilled the floor and inserted bolts to which the chains were shackled and ultimately I was bound for each chain had an appropriate manacle for my arms and legs.
I was made to totally strip. From here on in I would have to stay put in the chamber. I would be fed in there and a potty had been provided for my toiletry needs. I was told that If I behaved myself I would be allowed to wash regularly and use the toilet facilities as my chains would be released to facilitate this, but that if I spent too much time complaining then they would quiet simply kill me for I was already too much bother. Well, I was definitely left in no uncertain terms about what was expected of me and what I should do in order to stay alive. Before he left the room the Lug withdrew a huge knife from his waist band and before I realised what was happening himself and the other fellow had taken hold of my hand and removed a finger from it. I stared in shock at the place where my finger had once been and looked on aghast as the great Lug threw it out the window, muttering as he did that at least part of me would forever be free while the rest of me languished in chains. I started to scream with the shock of the whole incident and only calmed down when the doctor arrived on the scene to administer a sedative and stop the flow of blood from my wound. The whole operation had obviously been well planed and I was left in no doubt as to who was running the show by the time I had finished up in the chamber with the doctor. Siam was sent to comfort me and she told me that she was to be my helper with the clients from here on in as Madame didn't trust me to behave myself and she was to help me get warmed up and keep me clean and presentable for the punters.
The weeks that followed saw my demise into the role of meat slave, cleaned up and prepared for the housewife to enjoy the full pleasure of my considerable talents. I soldiered on. I knew that I was being closely watched by the security and ultimately the madam. I was in no doubt that if I did not perform to a satisfactory level my life was in danger. My finger healed slowly and I was advised that I was lucky enough to come away from the whole incident with my life. I still couldn’t believe that they had found me so easily after my escape. Siam informed me somewhat too late that the Gallaghers controlled huge numbers of people in all walks of life and that if they were looking for something they usually got it with an appropriate amount of money spread about in the right places.I wished she had told me these things earlier, but then again I didn't tell her equally about my plans for escape either. Whatever the way of it there was no doing anything but what I was told for the mean time.
There was also no doubt in my mind that I would have to find a way to escape for I was a dead man one way or another in the long term. I was sure if I stayed here they would use me until I was knackered beyond all use to anyone-including myself. It was only a matter of time before they found a few replacement s in the male stud department and then they would start to look at me in a different light. I knew the great Lug would dearly love to get his hands on me. I was no longer in receipt of the tip income, and what I had managed to acquire discretely before my failed escape attempt had been taken from me when I was recaptured. The madame was genuinely surprised at the quiet considerable sum of money I had managed to put together. She ordered a ban on all tipping to me after that from my continually growing band of clients. I was somewhat restricted in the level of servicing that I could offer seeing as I constantly had one foot chained to the floor.
The ladies appeared to like the subservient status I had assumed since my escape attempt. More than a few of them had become somewhat rougher in their treatment of me. The nail marks and gouges that I had started to regularly acquire were becoming so pronounced on my body that I even refused to service a few of the more violent ladies. The Madame did not like this atall I can tell you and the great Lug came to my chambers and gave me a right going over literally thrashing me within an inch of my life for refusing to do madams bidding. There was no room what so ever for any level of personal initiative in my dealings with clients I was informed and if I thought there was -well I was left in no uncertain terms as to the possible out come for such a manner of a mindset. There was no refusing to do what a client wanted and that was madams way I was informed. I was now constantly worn out and bruised for the number of clients that I was forced to service on a regular basis was constantly growing and I was quiet literally unable to manage a good number of them, for I had neither the enthusiasm or the energy that I had formerly and relied increasingly on Siam to excite me to a level where I was able to service the client list.
Day after day the monotony of my job became overwhelming and the levels of exhaustion that I suffered increased to a point that was well beyond a joke and continued to leave me physically worn out and almost incapable of being good for more than lying there while Siam sucked a bit of life into my exhausted dick in order to service the clients. Of course it was then not long before they started complaining that what they used to get wasn't what they were getting any longer and Madame would send Lug down to hand out a good thrashing every time one of them complained, with the result that I would be even less likely to want to satisfy any of them the next day and even more likely to be on the receiving end of another good thrashing from Lug. Well, this cycle of beating and bad attitude continued to the point that I myself had no wish to continue as I was and would have happily pushed the Madame to the point where she would have willingly have done me in. However, I was saved from myself and given a rest for a while by a mother load of a venereal infection. The Doctor said it was one of the worst cases of the clap that he had ever seen. It left me barely able to walk and I was glad to report through the grapevine I heard that a fair few of my client list had also succumbed a the bout of the clap. Well, this was happy news to me as I delighted in the break I was able to have while I happily thought of the extravagant excuses that the punters would be dreaming up in order to get out of shagging there husbands and boyfriends for some time to come.
I had also interestingly discovered that one of the ladies who used my services was none other than the wife of the owner of the brothel and therefore my captor, Gallagher himself. I had also lately come to figure out that one of his daughters was also a recipient of my pleasuring techniques and that was a thought of immense satisfaction to me that I had both his wife and one of his daughters suffering a level of venereal discomfort on my account One wondered did mother know of the discomfort of the daughter and vice versa? Well, I enjoyed the break for all the hard work and unrewarding work for all that and it was with relief that I woke up daily with the thought that I had to do no work whatsoever for the job of pleasuring had long since become a source of no joy to me. I was in little doubt that it was only a job of work and nothing else.
I continued to pursue my thoughts of escape and knew that I would only have a harder time of it in future as I was in no position to even break out of my shackles without the help of others. I was considering trying to get Siam to assist me in my endeavours for I could see no other potential partner for an escape bid, though for all her expressions of sympathy to my cause I was in no doubt that her loyalties towards me were weak enough and that when push came to shove and action was called for I doubted she was going to be of any use to me. My other line of salvation was to try and work on the sensibilities of the clients and see what assistance I could glean off them. If I could make one of them fall in love with me then I could have some chance that they would assist in my escape plans. I lay unearning for some many weeks and finally the brothel Doctor pronounced that I was fit to work again and so off I went with a return to the previous routine of sucking and fucking, bumping and grinding and the rest of it. It was back to the same old same old.

Chapter 8

I knew deep down there was really little hope that any of the wans that I serviced were going to fall in love with me. The fact of the matter is that I was a distraction for them the same way shopping or going out to lunch with the girls was a distraction for them. I could not realistically see any of them being of a social class that would accept a mucker country boy, turned tart as a serious love interest. I was risking my very life if I went down that road and things didn't work out. The love interest would presumably just move on to the next hapless slapper that Madame put her way, while I was likely to end up pushing Daisy`s on the Bog of Allen. There was little or no hope on the horizon as I settled into the monotony of my routine once again and the days became a continuous round of shagging and sucking up to clients in an effort to keep the powers that be happy and off my back while I tried to plan my escape from the servitude that I found myself in. Alas, the weeks rolled on to no avail. There was little hope for me it appeared and as the reality of my position dawned on me yet again I sunk into a depression that was as deep as it was black and I could see no way out of my Hellish situation in the forthcoming future.
As time went on I became more and more resentful of the clients and received regular beatings now for what was considered my bad attitude. An attitude which I can only say continued to worsen. I gradually realised that Madame had no intention whatsoever of doing away with me while I was a valuable commodity. However, over weeks stretching into months there was little enough that I had to keep me going and nothing to raise my morale. I could see no way of digging myself out of the hole it looked I was going to find myself in till the day I died. Which at the current rate of exploitation was not going to be long away. I was not bothered with trying to impress the clients anylonger and I merely lay there chained to the bed and let Siam do all the arousing and guiding of the magnificent tool of satisfaction and pleasure into the clients. I did not any longer care about their needs and only made an effort with the one or two clients that I genuinely fancied or liked. I had come to learn a thing or two about the war that had been going on for some considerable time between the Mulligans and the Gallaghers. As I said before, I had ascertained that one of the daughter’s of Gallagher as well as his wife came to me for a regular servicing. Over time she was herself joined by another sister, both of whom enjoyed a great libido and I must say I looked forward to these little sessions together. Needless to say their mother knew nothing of our activities and it was a source of great amusement to me that I was also servicing their mother. Gallagher may have been my keeper , but I was well and truly getting my satisfaction screwing all the females in his family.
They were all great fun I have to say.The rest of the time I didn't give a toss for the punters. I had taken to using the cocaine again just to get through the day. Now Siam and I had discovered that small amounts of it rubbed on the head of the tool of magnificant pleasuring was likely to cause a hardon that lasted a good few hours and relieved Siam of much of her laborious task of arousing the wonder dick for the edification of the clients. I would need to keep my head about me and not become addicted to the stuff if I was ever to have any hope of escaping from my captivity. Though I was all bound up I would nevertheless need to be alert for opportunities to escape. I spent much of my efforts on trying to assemble what tools I could from the occasional item dropped from a hand bag or dress during encounters with clients. Luckily I managed to find myself a good file and a few hair clips that doubled up as a simple lock picking tool that gave me a focus for my attempts to escape. In practice, the tools were little better than useless, and I soon abandoned any hope of managing to escape using these instruments. I could see no hope on the horizon for a plan to escoredom and make time pass quicker. Daily I drifted in and out of a cloud of hashish smoke when not on the job. When on the job I was using cocaine to enliven the primary work tool. The cocaine was a blessing to me in that I could manage to shut off completely while at the same time, work the clients, and in the process just about keep every body happy. Except Siam. She was not happy with the arrangement as she was losing her own client base the more she was forced to stay with me, owing the unique situation of my captivity. Siam had a solution to my special needs. She turned up at the door of the chamber with Madame and Lug in tow for a demonstration of the technique she had figured would be of benefit to us all she said. The wonderful procedure turned out to be an idea to inject coke into the tool of magnificent of pleasuring a few times a day in order to keep me hard without the need to keep Siam with me all day long to arouse me to the job I was so obviously disinterested in. The fact that I though very little of the plan to have untrained people injecting coke into my dick fell on deaf ears. My protestations only earned me a good hiding from Lug. Though I struggled to stop this sinister and worrying procedure I was powerless to resist. Lug literally sat on me to keep me quiet and Siam injected the stimulating substance.
Well, to say that it worked was an understatement for the technique allowed me to keep a good half dozen clients happy while Siam was off seeing to her own client base at the same time as popping into pump a little coke into the tool every now and then. I was very resistant to this new departure for I could see that it was only a matter of time before someone managed to cause me some damage or worse, inject an air bubble which could have fatal consequences. Every time that Siam came in to inject me I would scream and wriggle in a effort to ensure that injecting me was made as difficult as possible. Some days I managed to thwart their efforts somewhat, though this was only a temporary situation as the great Lug would sit on me while Siam did her stuff and that was the end of it usually. They at least were inconvenienced which was of itself something that gave me a modicum of pleasure and I enjoyed the distraction immensely. After a time when the Lug could see that I was in no way tiring of all the inconvenience that I took great delight in causing he had all but given up on trying to beat me into submission. I was so regularly black and blue that I was becoming a turn off for the all important clients. Finally Lug arrived in one day with what had obviously been a specially designed suit. Made of leather it was, the function of which was to control the inconvenience that I loved to cause. The suit was made to be attached to a series of chains in place on the floor.

The elaborate system of restraints were designed to reduce my mobility to a point that I was basically left in one position for the edification of my clients, with no thoughts for my own needs. I was not able to move sufficiently in order to inconvenience my punters any longer ,or distract them in any way from their single minded pursuit of pleasure. A suitable hole had been left to allow the working lad out to please the clients. And that was it, day in, day out, the working lad and me .Looking each other in the eye as it were and him standing around waiting for clients while I lay subservient to his wishes. Now with the combination of Cocaine injected into my hardworking tool and the suit to restrain me I was once again highly profitable for the Madame. Siam came around to daily administer by injection Cocaine now and then throughout the day, with I have to say , the least regard for standard medical hygiene. I gave a little bother now and again just to check out the reaction and began to receive a good thrashing for my troubles when I had managed to sufficiently upset a client. This time however the suit hid the worst excesses of the beatings and so I was not affecting business by my attitude and abusive behaviour towards the clients.
Of course the magnificence kept working without a great deal of association from my body, for I was merely a life support system for the tool. The working lad had developed a routine of his own almost.I began to genuinely fear for the health of the magnificent object of pleasure and it was not long before I was having to come up with some manner of a plan to reduce my work load and fight for better conditions of existence. Now that the working lad was able to operate almost independently of me with the aid of cocaine.
There was little enough I could do. The entrapment that I suffered was designed to keep me bed bound and restricted in movement. The best I could manage to reduce the workload was to shout and insult the clients from when their numbers began to excede the quota that I deemed an acceptable daily work load. This plan worked for a short time but led to a surprising counter attack from Madame and the Lug. Both came in one day when I was plying my latest antics and screaming blue bloody murder at on oul slag who was a terrible nuisance. I had decided that she was going to be my target of verbal abuse for that day. Well after the client had disappeared with tears in her eyes from the verbal abuse that I had given her Lug and madam joined me in the chamber with a look of smug satisfaction on their faces.
Madame shuffled her grotesque frame towards me at a pace of movement that reflected the poor shape she was in. She had a smirk on her face alright as she took a gag from her night dress pocket and handed it to the great lug."Now Master Dickson, we’ll see who’s going to be insulting the clients from here on in.” There was a great look of evil malice in her eye’s.With that Lug took hold of the gag and forced it into my mouth. They laughed while the process of insertion was going on, delighted at my discomfort. Well, the next few days I had little choice but to grow accustomed to my situation and I shut up. But within a day or two I got going again with the insulting of clients. I managed to make what must have been extremely disturbing noises through the small hole in the plastic gag that barely allowed me to breath. Well, as you can imagine at that point I was just about wishing I was dead.I couldn't for the life of me understand why they just didn't plug me. I would rather be dead than living, nay ,existing as I was. This was no life for a mortal man. The Gimp I heard my self referred to by the working girls in the brothel. They no longer referred to me by my name. I had become merely an animal whose only function was to satisfy the clients. They who were themselves slaves of sorts to the omnipresent power of the Madame saw me as even less than them. To them I was even lower than a tart. I was just a tool without the shred of humanity to add a factor of normality to my otherwise bizarre existence. I could no longer even relate to the girls as one human to another enduring difficult circumstances. Thankfully the number of my clients was at least dropping off as the weirdness of my situation began to turn a few of them away, though those that remained loyal to my servicing were becoming increasingly violent in their acts of love making. This I put down to the fact, that I, being already subdued bought out the worst of vile excesses in these normally demure ladies who lunch. Indeed , so bad was the thrashing and flaying directed towards me on a number of occasions that the Lug was forced to come to my rescue a few times when the violence became excessive. I continued to put off the clients as best I could with an increasingly effective series of blood curdling guttural utterances. To my great amusement more than a few of my bothersome clients running off in Hysterics.
The Madame had apparently had a number of complaint’s that my eyes frightened them when I was doing my best to chill the living heart outta them. Madame had a solution for that problem also, a solution which even I had to admire for its pure lack of consideration for anyone but the clients needs. Though I hated her with a vengeance, I had to admire her brutal determination to get her way.
Lug came in after one particularly bloodcurdling session that resulted in the client running off in a flood of tears. I had let out a whelp of a cry that had the relatively new client running out in a panic without either achieving an orgasm, or sin of sins in Madams eyes - without paying the bill. Well, that apparently was the final straw. A mask was presented to me for examination and fitting. The mask had no eye holes and a tube allowing the life giving air to enter my only contact with life outside, my lungs. In some ways I rejoiced at the fact that I could now protest and shriek so much that the Lug could just suffocate me to the point of death. It would be what they called back home a happy release. I tried to irritate him as best as I could having decided that I was at this stage better off dead that alive. Alas, no matter how much protest I made he would only suffocate me to the point of unconsciousness and then again revive me and allow me to partake of the life giving air. Well, I have to say that I could not understand what was going on atall for there was no doubt but that I was becoming an increasing liability to them. Still they would not do the decent thing and put me out of my misery.I was producing less and less income, and more and more bother. Still they appeared to tolerate me remarkably well. I could not understand the ways of them atall. Whatever was their reluctance to plug me, or suffocate me and be done with the problem I had made myself into I could not understand. However, they eventually came up with a solution to control me that allowed them to make full economic benefit of my lad, an organ which I now had a distant and merely symbiotic relationship with. Heroin was the solution to their problem. They obviously had thought about things and figured out that they could give the working stiff a shot of the oul Colombian marching powder and he’d be happy out for the working day.
Well, I have to say that when the Doctor came in to measure out the first dose of the life destroying elixir I had little or no Idea what to expect, but when that shot of numbness went into the veins and took hold of my very being I thought that for a few moments that I had found nirvana. There was now a happiness pervading my whole being that finally allowed me to accept the restrictions of my position and the limitations of my existence. There was I, with the help of the gear finally having found a way that I could live through the horror of my existence. A way that in the full knowledge of my inability to do anything about my position was also a way of dealing with my captivity that would also hopefully be the death of me. Thankfully Madame was happy to supply a vast amount of the white substance to keep me subdued and the weeks and months that followed were a time of happy symbiosis for both the working stiff and myself. Daily he got his dose of stimulant cocaine while I managed to disappear into a cloud of opiate induced fantasy. The happy lad was now a penis operating on its own steam , with the body a mere life support system.
Thankfully I was subdued to a point that I was even unaware of the number of client s that I was processing on a daily basis. It is most true to say that we had indeed become very much separate beings by this time. There was the permanently stiff working lad during daylight hours, and me, smacked off the head trying to make sense of it all and figure out a way to either escape again, or die. I was just a gimp with no future, and since I was now permanently geared up and tuned out of reality, little in the way of a present as well. The dose of gear that I needed on a daily basis was growing to a sizable investment for the Madame and as my tolerance to the drug grew I hoped that I would eventually become far too expensive for the Madame to keep and that she would finally allow the great Lug to do away with me as had been his earnest desire for many a long month .I had no life now and I would have rather been dead. Oddly enough there was however an ever increasing demand for the working lads services and eventually the symbiotic relationship between the two of us settled down to a situation where we were both fed our appropriate shot of narcotic first thing in the morning and we had little other contact again before the hood was removed later in the evening, when the workaday was done and we relaxed the pleasures of the day away in front of the telly and with a meal.
The Madame had started providing decent meals much to my surprise. Eventually all but the chain attached to my ankle was removed every evening. Siam even started to make an appearance and eventually I forgave her for the suspicions that I still harboured regarding her role in regularly passing on information to Madame. The fact of it was that I missed having some company and this of itself led to the easing of my position regarding Siam .For a gimp needs company and the working stiff for all his independence had still not managed to find a way to conduct a conversation. The manner of my treatment began to improve so much that I began to seriously wonder what was going on and why I was being treated in such a beneficial way. There was no reason for it atall that I could fathom, but as they used to say in what was once my family, one should never look a gift horse in the mouth.

Chapter 9
Some night soon after my I awoke with a start. Deep into the black of night a sound I heard, unfamiliar and dislocated from its origins though strangely familiar. Then I heard a motor chock up to full blast and I immediately recognised the thudding rattle of a chain saw. I could hear great commotion and not a little shouting from the security guards at the brothel, the number of whom appeared to have grown considerably in recent weeks. Unfortunately , on account of the fact that I was as usual secured to the floor by means of my by now old friend ,the chain, I had no way to go and see what all the commotion was about. There appeared to be an attack on the building from what little I could gather and there was a lot of commotion from the other sex workers as they scattered about here and there screaming that the police were raiding. Many of them were illegal in the country and made an appropriate run for it. I could hear them open up the roof hatch and scarper along the depth of the long beams overhead as they made their best effort at avoiding the long arm of the law. Siam rushed in to me with a request that not only made me laugh, but had me well and truly doubled with the sheer thoughts of her plan to evade extradition from the country.
"Johnny, Johnny, you must help me ", she came in screaming.
How, in the condition I was detained in, complete with chains, I was going to be of any use to her was so beyond me. I immediately started to crack up laughing. I tried to contain myself as she was obviously very anxious but then she blabbed out the quick fix solution that she had come up with .
"Johnny, you to police tell we getting married. OK. Ok Johnny, you say that for me and I help you escape next time you try .OK Jonny?"There was something overwhelmingly funny about me, complete with rubber suit and extensive chains holding me to the floor saying that I was engaged to be married to a tart. The fact of the matter was that Siam rightly recognised that the police would no doubt be releasing me from my bondage, even if that meant that I was going to have to deal with the full vigour of the law for my past actions. I would be copper property then, and would no doubt quickly enough find myself locked up in the big house. As indeed so would Siam , as an illegal immigrant .There was going to be the ridiculous spectacle of the two of us languishing in different prisons until time for our apparent marriage ceremony, when, because Siam was then going to be legally in the country she would be able to go back to her life on the game while I would return to prision to face the wrath of my fellow man for the heinous deed`s I had committed against the state. Once the cops found out that I had been incidental in the death of one of their own during my escape from Glory that would be the end of it.
At least I think he had died when that car went up in flames, for no one could have survived that inferno. I would be lucky enough mind you if that was all I had to worry about, for the forces of law and order could equally make a case out of the thumping I gave that fellow so as I could get in to play in the band that time. That's of course if they ever found out about it, but with the passage of time and my apparent disappearance tongues would no doubt have started to wag. And once a bit of tongue wagging went on, it was only a matter of time before the local Garda got to hear about the situation. With all my past about to catch up with me it would appear as if my life was likely to be no better if I did manage to get out of my present predicament. The police on my doorstep were only the start of a new set of problems. Siam sat beside me with a bright beaming smile and an engagement ring with an enormous shining rock she had pulled out of her pocket. Obviously kept for just such an occasion. I wondered did all the illegal girls keep such rings lying around for eventualities such as was now occurring.
Well, the holy commotion downstairs was getting closer by the second. The police had managed to cut and bash their way through the stout wooden outer door. I could hear a mighty scuffle underway between Garda and the gangster security men at the brothel. And then the sound of a gun shot. Then quiet broke out. Suddenly I heard someone shout my name. I knew it was not the voice of one of Lugs men, for most of them lately were foreigners. It had to be the cops , and they were loking for me. No doubt.
"Johnny Dickson," I heard my name called again. I was mortified that the cops had singled me out for special attention. God almighty I thought, it must be that they had me down for a murder charge. Or even two murder charges if they had found some evidence about the traditional musician that time. I would argue that both of those incidents were more manslaughter than murder. Still and all, I did have a part to play in the deaths of two men, no matter how indirectly that might have been. They had mounted a raid to find me and bring me to justice. They were going to have their pound of flesh and no doubt about it. There was an instinct in me that told me to keep me gob shut and say nothing , to not answer their calls for me as I was not about to give myself up to the feckers. Well, I instructed Siam to put the mask on, and just in the nick of time they smashed the door in just as she got the mask down over my head. God knows what they thought at the sight of me lying there, fully clad in leather from head to toe and chained to the floor with a pint sized oriental holding up a motherfucker of a diamond ring and screaming that I was her fiancée.
"Have you seen a fellow called Johnny , Johnny Dickson?” they asked.I could feel Siam starting to falter but squeezed her hand in time to bring her to her senses and she told them she knew of no such person. I could tell she was nervous of the police for she didn't want to be seen as a liar to them, whatever about being a tart, the cops don't like a liar. Well, at least she put my interests first this time and the cops went off to look in the next room, where I heard a similar breaking down of doors and further violence ensued and a fistycuffs match appeared to be in full swing somewhere down the hall way. I was surprised that the brothel guards were putting up such a fight for the cops would go through them for a short cut if they didn't go quietly and there was no reason to assume that this was anything other than a routine part of life as a brothel security guard. By this time the commotion in the hallway had grown to such a state that there was no telling atall what was going on but from what little I could make out the cops appeared to be getting an upper hand. I could not figure if it was the cops or Lugs lads that were after getting the upper hand. Eventually a shot rang out and that bought all the proceedings to a quick halt and that was the end of it. A silence ensued except for the sound of what was obviously one of the lugs men who had been hit , though from the wailing outta him I was sure that he had only been injured , for those boys were all a moany bunch and the less serious the wound the louder they generally whinged on about it. I was surprised to hear the cops pulling out the shooters and using them in that manner, but there was no telling what sort of lunatics Lug had hired to protect the brothel.Well, they proceeded to tell every one to gather in the hall way for a little speech.
"Right, listen up the lot of you, you've been holding someone here that belongs to us. His name is Johnny Dickson and we want him back".Siam, the stupid little cow that she was let a little shriek at the mention of my name and that bought one of the coppers into the room.
"You, what the fuck are you doing here?" asked the copper of Siam.
"I engaged, I no want to leave him", was the best response that Siam could come up with, though the sight of her clinging onto me in all my ingloriousness bondage and chains must have being some sight.
"What the fuck is that bleedin thing?” He asked referring to me.
"That gimp" she said, affectionately adding that I was her husband to be.
"Your fucking engaged to a bleedin sex slave, jaysus , now I’ve heard it all," was the coppers reply.
"Get that bloody mask off him, let’s have a look and see who he is".
"He my husband to be, he no the boy you looking for I tell you".
"Get the bloody mask off love, and lets have a look, alright?".
I had to confess that Siam was for once doing her best to protect my interests, which made a nice change from her always rooting for Madams side. Despite the fact that we got on well I was always wary of her deeper focus on the main chance for what was in it for her, but for once she was battling for me. However the copper was insistent that she remove the hood and at that moment my heart sank for I knew that I was buggered. I was about to have the long arm of the law exact its revenge on me. The mask was lifted off and a light shone on my face from a strong torch beam blinding me .The copper studied my face for a moment.
"Naw, that's not him, that Johnny was a fresh faced country lad, that , that gimp is an ugly mother fucker. Your welcome to marry that ugly deranged monstrosity missy, and good luck with him, I think you’ll need it" he said laughing as he went out the door to rejoin his colleagues.
I couldn't believe my luck , the bloody eejit hadn’t recognised me, obviously they only had a few very old photographs.I was delighted and instructed Siam to quickly put the mask back on before they had a chance to have a second and closer look , for I was happier at this stage with the prison that I knew rather than the one the state was likely to be wanting to provide for me. The devil you know and all that. Well, I was chuckling away to myself as your man started on at the assembled company and I was totally secure in my wee little disguise. I could just about make out was he was saying, for the mask was primarily designed to stop me verbally abusing punters in my more aggressive moments before I had discovered the calming quality of gear.
"Right, listen up the lot of you, Johnny Dickson was taken from out territory and we want him back, fact of the matter is that Rachel Mulligan for some bleedin reason also happens to be in love with this bloody mucker gobshite. Right, so listen up the lot of yez and pass on what I say to Gallagher. The Mulligans consider this personal, it was bad enough that this young fellow was kidnapped from our turf, but as I said the bosses daughter is head over heals for this fellow."
I couldn't believe my ears, it wasn't the coppers that I was dealing with, but the Mulligans. Holy hour, they had come to rescue me, this was my one chance to escape from my past and have a normal life- and I was about to blow it completely.
I started shouting and screaming to the full capacity of my lungs and attracting attention as best as I could with the restrictions that I was living under.I couldn't believe that they had not recognised me, but the conditions that I had been living under were not the best and I had barely seen the light of day for what must be a few years by this stage. Indeed I didn't even know what age I was by this stage, I suspected that I was around twenty one or so by now for I had when I was eighteen or so, though I felt that I was more like an old man by that stage and judging by yermans reaction when he shone the light on my face I must have aged something proper in order to have been so unrecognisable to him. With all my might I screamed at them that I was here, that this was me, and tried to beckon to Siam to get the rubber hood off me so as I could be rescued. She was not obviously understanding what I wanted, or , the horror of it all struck me, perhaps she had known the minute the Mulligans said who they were that this was nothing to do with the cops and the little bitch and stiffed me in it again. Lug came and hit me an almighty blow that shut me up and knocked me out cold. That was the end of the Mulligan clan rescuing me. Siam was there ready with her excuses as usual by the time I came to.
"I no understand why you screaming. You tell me put on mask to cover you, I no understand what you want when you scream so like crazy. Wha you think I am, mind reader, ha?"
"What the Hell happened," I asked, full well having a good idea as it was.
"The man he give you big thump on head, tell you shut fucking gimp mouth".
Siam I felt sure knew when they came into the room exactly who they were. The fact of it was I knew that yet again I had been duped by her. She was always on madams side. Strange things started to happen after that raid by the Mulligans. Suddenly the quality of my treatment and the number of my clients started to dwindle and the use of the cocaine to arouse the working lad became a less and less frequent event. I was some weeks later allowed out of my bondage attire and de-chained for the first time since my escape attempt.
Over the coming weeks I was allowed to walk with the aid of only the ankle chain only, though after the long period of being confined to bed I was incapable by this time of walking more than a few feet without becoming extremely exhausted. It was with great difficulty over the next few days that I tried to build up my walking ability. If they were trying to get me into a better state of health that could only mean that something was afoot. Perhaps a deal was being done with the Mulligans to secure my release. If they were going to plug me there was little or no reason to get me into a better state of health. On the other hand , you never could tell what Madame was up to, and I stopped allowing the doctor give me any injections for I was none too confident in what he was likely to get up to at the end of the day. He was employed by Madame, and it had been my experience that those she had in her clutches were loyal to her beyond the bounds of reason. I was shocked when I looked in a mirror for the first time, perhaps in a year and could see how emancipated my formerly athletic body had become. I knew in my heart that the gear was taking a toll on me that was beyond anything I imagined. I was looking at myself literally fading away if you don't mind and when I thought about it I began to wonder at the comment that had been made the night the Mulligans came to rescue me and didn't recognise me as the person who fitted the description of the young and fresh faced country boy they were looking for.
I had to accept that I was not indeed the person they were looking for and that I had obviously changed so much that they did not even recognise me from the description given of me, however long ago it was that I had entered the Capital on my hapless journey to freedom, and the West. There was also the matter of the fact that the rubber suit wasn't the best thing to aid good hygiene. God alone knows but I stank in that rubber suit and the daily hosing down that I got at the hands of the Lug or from one of his roustabouts was only barely enough to keep the stench or my rotting body from seeping out through the rubber suit. How in the name of Jaysus the punters had put up with the smell for all those months was beyond me altogether. There were however those who got off on the chains and rubberbound gimp I had become, and a small few who had taken great delight altogether in the subjugation that I had been forced to endure, among them the two daughters of the big man himself. His wife had not been near me for quiet some time, but I lived in hope, for I got a particularly good kick from knowing that I was banging the bossmans old lady, what ever about giving it to his daughters. It gave me great pleasure in my subservient gimp like existence to know as I lay there all those months unable to communicate while being used for their pleasure under duress that I was banging all Gallaghers family.
In the days after the failed rescue attempt I was more down than normal. And I was also being deprived of the smack as my only source of temporary escape from my miserable existence now that it appeared that I was going to be rehabilitated. My smack supply was reduced apparently on the direct orders of Madame. I started to feel increasingly sick and was quickly incapable of taking any clients atall. I did my best to service some a few days later just to keep Madame off my back but they both left at the sheer sight of me, sweating and going through convulsions in the midst of the smack withdrawal. I suspected that some deal was on the table for my release. Why else would they be so interested in cleaning me up. As far as Lug was concerned plugging me was all that I was good for. When he came near my room I tensed up and I was sure he felt my unease though I tried to hide my fear as best as I could. Lug left no doubt in my mind what his thoughts on me were every time he came near me, eying me up with what I can only describe as monovalent intent.
I tried to bolster up my spirits by thinking about the possibility that there was a deal on the table for my release, or indeed the possibility for another escape, but I was too weak to do anything but lie there on the gimps performing platform and be sick. Sick from the lack of the gear, and getting stroppier by the day for the want of it. After a few days Siam bought me some gear so sorry for me was she. Though I remember little or nothing of that, she told me later that she had given me a goodly lash of the stuff just to shut me the fuck up. I apparently could be heard crying out in withdrawal induced pain hour after hour. When the gear hit my vein I felt instantly alive again, my body and mind welcoming my old friend with open arms.
That was all well and good for the hit she gave me to take the worst of my pain away, but that didn't last long and I was sick again within a few hours and wanting more opiate. She was more her usual reluctant self when it came to putting herself out on my behalf. She did let slip that Lug had allowed her to bring the first hit, but he wouldn't be so happy to give me a second hit. Unless.....Unless I would consent to having sex with him she said. Well I was right about her alight, she was always a woman with an angle. Always doing the bidding of another in her deeds. Not that I minded that Lug was a shirt lifter , it at least explained why he was always leering at me, but I had no interest in that carry on myself, and I was not going to prostitute myself for a bit of gear.
I knew now why he was always hanging around and why he always made a point of being the one to wash me down with the hose. Well I let Siam know that I`d be having none of that carry on from him no matter how much gear he could find for me , a line in the sand had been drawn and that was thus far, and no further. Some hours later I was not quiet so strong in my resolve though thankfully the repulsion that I felt for the Lug kept me from relenting to yet another level of addicted craving depravity. I started to reason that it wouldn't be so bad, I figured I`d been that well shagged at this stage that a rogering up the how’s your father was no more depraving than much of the other carry on that I had put up with.

Would letting myself be fucked by another man not be little enough to worry about if I could at least have a bit of gear after wards to kill the thought of it? The pain of withdrawal got worse by the day. I did however manage to maintain my resolve hour after hour in the midst of the constant torment of opiate craving. My body wretched with pain for endless minute after endless minute while I know I screamed out for gear. Lug came to my side and repeated the offer that Siam had carried. By the time a few days had passed I was powerless to resist the pain of the smack withdrawl.
I was powerless to resist the temptation of gear, for at this stage I was prepared to do anything to get my hands on a hit.I told him he could do what ever he wanted just so long as I could have a hit first. My body relaxed at the sight of the bag of heroin he produced. I shot my vein within a minute, dangerously ,for I did not properly prepare the mix and I think I took a bit too much gear for I almost instantly felt myself deep within an opiate high unlike any which I had known. I could see Lug taking off his trousers.I was ashamed at my own weakness. I was just a gear head. , the gimp was his own man and we were symbiotic in connection. The gimp worked for the gear to keep the bliss show on the road. It was just like old times, only this time the working stiff had the night off and the back passage was doing the working gig to keep the soul in gear. I blanked out my mind as the Lug reached down to me and grabbed me by the shoulders and picked me up off the bed. He was shouting and slapping me I remember as Madame walked in the door of my chambers. Fine it must have looked to her too, Lug, and the trousers down around his ankles, and slapping the shite outta me. I can`t remember any words but I knew that she was well annoyed with your man as he muttered something along the lines of this not being what it looked like. He was shouting "OD, OD , he`s going, get the Doctor , get the Doctor" as I fell into a deep sleep, I think I knew I was well and truly fucked with the gear.
I remember little enough of the time that passed.. Siam attended to me as I awoke and she hugged me for a time when I first opened my eyes in recognition of her. She was, I believe, genuinely happy to see me start on the road to recovery, or at least to have crossed what I realise in hindsight was undoubtedly the threshold between life and death. Some hours after coming too I was feebly able to sit up. And take some tepid soup. The soup quickly had an effect on my malnourished body. I had been out cold for some three days I was informed and only alive because Madame made the Doctor stay at my side for some days after I had nearly died from the overdose that I had taken. It appeared that the Lug had cut the gear too lightly in order to ensure I was going to be far too stoned to change my mind about our bargain. Had Madame not come in at that time then apparently I was as good as a dead man. As I slowly recovered over the next few day s I began to put the pieces together concerning the attitude change that had occurred with Madame. There was no mistaking that the treatment I had been on the receiving end of from her direction lately was doubtless the result of some deeper plot afoot. She would never have hired the doctor to stay at my side when I had overdosed if something major hadn't happened. This was presumably something to do with my connection to the Mulligan family. I was in no doubt about that. They were less than interested with me than the fact that I had been taken from an area they considered to be their turf. And the fact that I had been in the company of Rachel Mulligan, and that she was at the receiving end of some of the Gallagher gangs rough treatment. There was no doubt in my mind but that I was merely the symbol of the dispute that I had unwittingly become part of.
I could only conclude that a major turf war was on the go. Something which Siam denied when I asked her, though as usual in any matter where there might be a conflict of interest between the Madame and my best interests there was every suspicion in my mind that the little tramp was lying through her gob as usual. I suspected that Madame was under orders to keep me in one piece no matter what, for I began to see in little ways that she was not only concerned to ensure that I was being looked after but almost paranoid about my health. She came by daily to try and coax me to eat more and more food and the doctor still came by every few days to administer copious quantities of vitamins. Soon I was beginning to feel much better. I could still barely walk. Of course the only thing I really desired was a hit of gear. No matter how good I was starting to feel I still only longed for the warm and comfortable rush of smack coursing through my veins , my body succumbing to the power of the opiate. No gear was forthcoming from the house unfortunately, for the Madame was determined to get me off the stuff and see me on the straight and narrow, why though I could not understand, for she had all of a sudden taken an immense interest in my safety and health.
Her new and caring attitude didn't however reduce my desire for the gear. I longed for just one more little hit. Just enough to make me feel a little high, just enough to escape the mundanely of my existence that over the last few years had seen me beaten down to become the pathetic gimp that I had become. I had lots of pain to escape from, what with all the beatings I had endured over the last few years not to mention having my finger cut off as well as getting shot.
God alone knows what Rachel Mulligan would have made of me if she saw me now. I dearly hoped that the sweet girl I had barely met all that time ago was by now well and truly beyond the level of love loss that her brothers henchmen were want to suggest on their visit to the brothel to rescue me. I laughed to myself at the irony on a gang breaking into a brothel to rescue a sex slave for the sake of another’s apparent true love. Life in the brothel in my experience was about every thing but love. But that's life, the thought of poor little Rachel still fretting about me after all this time, and she not even having had the benefits of the magic and substantial tool. She loved me for who I was apparently, not what I had. How I could only imagine. I was just a worthless murdering junkie.
I little thought that she would want the gimp I had become, worn out and addicted to anything that blocked out the reality of the workaday world for me. I had little interest in even exploring the supposed attraction this young wan held for me even if I got released to the other side. I was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth and if the Mulligans were of a mind to rescue me then I was not going to be the one to put them off that course of action, no matter how disappointed they were going to be with the result of their rescue, if indeed they tried to get me again. Well, I languished wondering what the big man Mulligan would make of me if he did indeed rescue me. I had no doubt that he would want me nowhere near his sister. `
As I said, I was sure that a deal was being brokered for my release.That was the only reason that would account for the change in the way that I was treated. But I was also aware that I was likely to be of no more interest to the other side than I was to this one. I merely represented the upper hand that one of them had over the other. This of itself I got to thinking was not a good thing for the Gallaghers would be quiet want to pop me just to get a dig in at the other side, so I made a mental note to my self to be a bit more alert than I had been of late. I was far away from free yet. I had grown inclined to relax somewhat since the demands of what appeared to be increasingly becoming my past life as a gimp had begun to wain. I now spent most of my day sleeping and relaxing. I had very little work to do for I serviced only a few ladies now, and these only because I wanted too, among them the daughter’s of the boss Gallagher who’s wife had given had given up on my services since the unfortunate incident with the clap.
The daughter’s didn't appear to have been put off by that sorry little affair a with the sexually transmitted disease a while back They both came on a regular basis but and had obviously got to talking and they bagan to play together . The three of us romped something mighty I can tell you, for I had little else to distract myself in the long and lonely hours of recovery from my addictions. Well my opiate addiction and the working lads fondness for the cocaine all had to go. Reluctantly both of us were forced to let the past go and from time to time we both either separately or in unison craved for the drug of our choice. The working stiff would grow hard and restless for hours at end , a deep memory of past habits no doubt while I would lie foetal craving just another hit of the gear , just one small itsey little bit of smack to pass the time and kill the boredom. There was little else in the way of distraction but to dream of getting high and I could do little else but wander the loneliness of my dingy chamber to kill the long and lonely hours of what I hoped were to be the last days of my captivity.
One thing I did notice as I became physically better and my mind began to sharpen was that I got back to thinking in the devious and cute hoor manner that I had once known as the trait of the mountainey people I came from. It came to my mind that if I could exact some manner of revenge for all the injustices that had been committed upon me then I would much better be able to leave this sorry episode behind me when and if the time came for my freedom. I had only one avenue of possible revenge and that to my mind was through the servicing of the two daughters of the boss man Gallagher. There was little or no doubt in my mind but that I was in a position to leave behind a little present for them and their father to remember me by. I reasoned that while I had originally been servicing them way back when they were obviously using the pill, but now that they had the little problem with the unfortunate dose then they were both given to using the rubbers. However the rubbers were provided by the Madame and she merely left a basket of them in the room.
I got to thinking about the basket of condoms and the fact that I had few opportunities to have a go at the Gallagher. I began to realise that I may well have an opportunity to exact some small manner of revenge through yourmans daughters. Such a pity that his missus was still not availing of my services, she would have been a better choice to have a go at. I had also come to hear odd titbits about my impending release through the grapevine concerning negotiations for a release that were at an advanced stage by this time. The whole regime was thrown into a frenzy of love bombing and congenial attitude towards me after a shotgun drive by attack on the brothel in the middle of the day. This time they made no attempt to get in but merely drove by and let rip with an awesome arsenal of weapon’s. One of the security men was mildly injured by a piece of shrapnel, though by all accounts the brothel got off lightly enough considering the sheer volume of firepower used on the attack. The police of course were all down at the scene and though I was still chained to the floor by one ankle chain now I could move about the room and into the bathroom allowing to hear the commotion and general mayhem. Eventually I gathered that the police were in possession of a search warrant and that they were going to search the premises. I was proven right when Siam came running in, yet again with the huge rock of an engagement ring on her finger and her the future wife of mine to be yet again, or so she thought.
Until I laughed her out of it and she realised I wasn't the dupe I had inadvertently been on the last occasion. Thing of it was I realised that if the cops came upstairs my ordeal was over and I would be able to walk out of this place of incarceration. Admittedly I knew only to another place of somewhat more legal incarceration than that which I had the pleasure to put up with in the last god knows how long. Lug and one of his helpers came through the door with what I recognised as the key to my chain release. Obviously they were worried that they would be open to a charge of kidnapping if the cops found me in the state I was in .Well I adapted an attitude of self righteous indignation that would have moved a bishop to tears. I started to imagine what the coppers were going to be doing with me once they got their hands on me , but whatever it was going to be there was no doubt that it could never be anything like the treatment that I had been subjected to over the last few years at the hands of Madame. I could hear some fierce commotion downstairs gradually making its way to me , level by level.
I heard the screaming protests of the girls who were being taken away, other’s merely charged and released later. There was nothing for it now but to hold on for a few minutes until the long arm of the law grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and gave me the hard word and probably loads of gaol time that I knew to be coming. What I didn't expect to be coming was the needle jab in the neck before I had even a chance to gloat sufficiently at what I presumed to be my imminent change of gaolers. I instantly knew the feeling of the smack invading my very being as I surrendered to the numbing and euphoric effects of the opium. There was of course no way that I was able to resist as Lug and a few of his cronies manhandled me out the chamber and lifted me up into the attic area which was already overpopulated by a variety of illegal immigrant prostitutes who had already found their way deep into the recesses of the roofing superstructure. All about me I could see eyes peeping out from the dark. I was eventually hidden in a small secret room into which the Lug and I squashed. The wall was barely back in place when the cops entered the roof superstructure and ordered every one out of the place. We listened as the scurry of feet indicated that the game was up for many of the illegal who knew they would be on their way back to wherever was classed as home in a matter of days. However many of them would doubtless return handy enough within a few months or set themselves up in business or pay off the farm back home or whatever if they had raised enough money from their trade. Not that it was too worried about that lot. They had cared little for my worries these few years. The latest visit by the cops was obviously connected with the gun attack on the brothel by the Mulligans. As a family they were clearly no angels, what ever about Rachael
The only positive thing was that I now knew for sure that I was undoubtedly the cause of the war that was going on between the two gangs. The manner in which the Gallaghers had gone to such trouble to conceal only me from the police was evident enough that I was important to their cause for it meant that for whatever reason I was to be kept alive at least. The brothel was uncharacteristicly quiet for a good few days after as I lay back in my chambers stoned on the gear again and though I was feeling guilty for receding back to square one I have to say I enjoyed the feeling of escape, perhaps in the knowledge that I was at the end game and that whatever fortune may have had in store for me I was at least soon to be free of my captivity as a sex slave. What the future had in store for me was a daunting prospect. Things just didn't appear to ever work out for me as I planned. I hoped as we entered the end game I was for once going to be on the right side of luck. For some days after the visit by the Gendarmerie the obvious disruption that the event had caused put an obvious dint in the profits of the whole business and I was as I had suspected at the receiving end of a few sharpish remarks from the many girls who felt that they had lost income.
I was also denied smack again, something which did not please me after the little taster I had be forcibly given.All I wanted was gear , and nobody would give me any, on the bosses instructions apparently. What ever was happening I was sure that I was not going to be allowed to walk away from my period of captivity as a junkie. They were obviously trying to clean me up for a handover.

been to try and have me cleaned up prior to a handover.The boss had obviously decided that I needed to be cleaned up for whatever was going down. There was going to be changes around here, I was told by an increasingly concerned Madame. She was becoming so nice to me it was nauseating. I would have to service no more clients I was told, but I asked to continue seeing the two daughters of the Gallghers for Madame did not know that I knew who they were but presumed meerly that I had a crush on them. To allow me a distraction for withdrawal and to keep my mind off the gear she allow me to continue taking Gallaghers two daughters as clients.
It was an easy task to service them. They were two beautiful women. I always looked forward to their visits which were now often ménage a trois affairs However, though I loved them dearly did not reduce my feelings to exact some sort of revenge on the boss man. His daughters were the only weapon I had to get at him. I was happy to know that I was exacting revenge on him while enjoying the fruits of his loins. My loins I was determined would exact their own revenge on their father. I had of course already planned what I was going to do, for since I had been allowed more freedom generally I was now in a position to tamper with the condoms where as before I had been bound by my hands as well as my feet making any revenge exacted through tampering with the rubbers impossible. I had already decided that I would do my damdest to get the bitches pregnant. This was to be my way of having the last laugh on the clan that had taken my freedom and destroyed my life.
I decided any way to start on my plan to get both the little bitches pregnant. I could feel it in my bones that the endgame was in play, and that it was only a matter of time before that handover happened. I duly lacerated each and every one of the condoms with a needle I had stolen from a client when I was trying to pick open my locks. The two fine young daughters of the boss made their way to me on a regular basis over the next few weeks and I was shagging the bejaysus out of them in the knowledge that I was probably going to be released soon enough and that if my revenge was going to work then I would need to ensure that I did the deed sooner rather than later. I was not planning to be around for the results of my handy work I can assure you.There was no accounting for what the boss man would do if indeed he found that I had managed to bang up one, or better still, both of his daughters. No matter what was going on I knew he was not the type too take any slight, real or imagined, sitting down.
Unfortunately I was not doing terribly well with the oul gear withdrawal and still craved for the smack constantly. I had little choice but to put up with the cravings for there was little else I could do even though Lug appeared to be considering a bag or two for me when I told him I would let him do as he wanted. He could have his sick wicked way with me for a bag of gear. He was apparently reluctant which was something of a surprise to me as he was deadly keen not so long ago. I begged him day after day, though he would not relent even though I could see the desire to have his sodomotic way twinkling in his eyes.
Lug told me with lust in his eyes that the boss had issued instructions that I was under no circumstances to be given gear by anybody as he wanted me clean as soon as possible. That meant to my mind that the boss was in the final stages of negotiating my handover back to the Mulligans. Desperate for a fix I lowered myself to doing what I said I would never do .I crossed the rubicon and gave him the best blow job I could manage in the circumstances, considering I had no practice in the art and didn't find the job in any way satisfying. But he seemed to enjoy it. I was gaging at the great smelly and unwashed article the swarthy foreigner passed over to my gob for pleasuring. Still he wouldn't pass the gear. Bastard. After what I had done for him. I was left with little choice but to offer him the full pleasures of his sodomotic desires.I would insist that he came up with the goods first.
This was even not apparently of interest to him which made me wonder at the magnitude of the edict that had been issued by the big man. I could not fathom him atall, where once he would bring me the gear almost to have a look at me, now after an introductory blow job on the house he would not even relent to get me gear with the offer of a good rear ender. He was unrelenting in his refusal to get me some gear for the pleasure of having his wicked way with me no matter how often I offered for his pleasure that orifice which I had thus far managed to preserve as my own. To pass the time and put up with the withdrawl from the gear I thought about what I after my pending release. At least my plan to get the Gallagher girls pregnant as revenge was foremost in my mind and kept me mentally occupied. I knew that timing was going to be crutial for I would have to get clean away before the girls revealed they were pregnant to their oul fellow. One or hopefully both of them. Then I would have my day, not that I was ever going to know if I succeded or not , but that was not thepoint. At least I would have the satisfaction of knowing that I had tried to get revenge. If they were up the pole, one or both of them, than I would have put a blight on the bloodline of the Gallagher clan. That was the Irish way. It didn’t matter how you got even with your enemy as long as you got even.
If I got one or both of them pregnant I was counting on the fact that the bossman was apparently very religious. That despite his violent and criminal life style. I was sure for that reason that if I could get one or both of them pregnant they would carry the baby to birth as the oul fellow would not allow an abortion such was his way of mind. I delighted in the prospect Gallagher having to see the fruit or fruits of my loin spring into the world from the belly of one or both of his daughters.Not that I was likely to ever know if in fact if I had ever achieved my revenge, but I had great pleasure in screwing the two missies with the punctured condoms. I of course had to hope that he two missies weren’t on the pill as well as using the condoms, but I gave every shag one hundred and ten percent every time the two young ladies visited over the next few weeks, which I might add was quiet a few times.
The end game I felt was near for the brothel had been so empty of punters and workers for a good few weeks at this stage that the pinch must be surly quiet considerable by this time. But I was bored , and as I sat in the chamber I was so bored I would have done anything for a hit of the oul china. Lug was having none of it though. That convinced me even more that end game was in play and I was soon for release. I could feel it in my bones. The bones of a hilltribesman. The bones of a man that could not remember what it was to be the country boy he had once been. I was lost to my past forever - destiny had dealt me a cruel hand all right. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I was once Johnny Dickson . Now I was just a gimp.

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CHAPTER 10
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Lug started getting was getting mighty cocky. of late, and that got me wondering if he had something up his sleeve. I had no doubt that he would have felt that I owed him something for all the trouble he got into with the Madame that last time for getting me gear and me nearly overdosing. He was quiet happy to get me some gear for no benefit to himself , as I would under no circumstances let him have his wicked way with me.I could never make out what was on his mind whenever he dropped me in a bag of gear. What Lug used to throw me was never more than a taster. It used to leave me desiring more. I wondered was he building my desire to ride the white horse up to a stage where he could again have a go at his wicked way with me. He knew that was the only way he was going to have his way , if I was too out of it to resist. I was surprised that he appeared to be so willing to dispense the stuff to me without any though what so ever for anything Bossman might do if he found out. Lug was definitely going very strongly against Madams wishes. Taking his life in his hands, literally I would have thought. That Bossman was known to plug lads for crossing him on the smallest of issues.
Could he really want to do the deed on me so badly that he was willing to risk his life? He was an odd creature for sure. The only thing I could think of for his actions was that my release was imminent and that if he was to have his wicked way with me then he must act soon. Equally he could very well have a little grudge of his own against the Mulligans and have been happy to see me handed over completely junked out, a form a revenge as it were. The Mulligans would presumably be well pissed off at the tainted goods they had received back. That would no doubt add fuel to the long running battle between the two families. Though the Mulligans wanted me back I was sure that there was never any chance that the Mulligan brothers were going to want me going near that sister of theirs. What ever Lug was up to, he had finaly started bringing in smack to me again. Within a few days I had the air of a junkie about me-again. Lug kept the flow of gear coming my way and there was no doubt but that he was intent on seeing me strung out. I would be some manner of a mess by the time of my release back to the Mulligans was complete. The Gallaghers must be feeling mighty confident that they had the upper hand over the opposition if they were allowing Lug dole so much gear to me. The whole lot of them were not the types to leave their dealings with the Mulligans without a sting in the tale. I was in no doubt but that I was that sting, or what would be left of me by the time the deal was done. That said, there was no apparent air of urgency to get the operation over and done with either from what I could gather. I was still the only resident aside from that the constant security presence that was there to keep an eye on me -and the Mulligans at bay.
The place was less of a brothel this long time and more of a combination between an armed containment unit and a fortress, which would have indicated to me that he there was every fear that the Mulligans were going to attack to rescue me again. I was back to square one yet again with the gear. The Bossman was obviously was happy enough to hand be back to the Mulligans all junked up for what ever reason. . And if I was smacked out of it I would be unlikely bothering trying to escape as well. I was sure the handover must be coming very soon. I had no doubt that I was in the throes of the end game. It was only a matter of time before I was marched out to freedom and into the brave new world that I had not seen for quiet a few months by this time. There was little enough to do in the mean time but sit and wait for my imminent departure and while away the time screwing the bosses daughters to motherhood. I hoped. And of course getting high as a kite in the frequent and numerous spare hours that I had available to me.I occasionally still harboured thoughts of escape, but there was little enough that I could be doing to alter the situation I found myself in. The restriction offered by still being chained allowed few opportunities for any realistic escape attempt. Anyway I was far too stoned on the gear to bother.I did have of course the pleasure of constantly seducing the bosses daughters and there was no end of pleasure to be had from the fact that I was doing my best to exact revenge on the family getting the daughters pregnant. Seeing as I was becoming increasingly sure that I was going to be released soon I went Hell for leather with the young wans. All the while the Lug just kept giving gear to me in huge quantities. I was occasionally concerned that I was cutting it very close to OD levels with the quantities I was consuming on a daily basis. Even so, I was not so out of it that I couldn't give it my best shot to get the Gallagher bitches pregnant. I liked them lots, don't get me wrong for I was very fond of them both, and I didn't want to mess up their lives with an unexpected pregnancy. But their father was using me for revenge as well so I could not really feel sorry for them no matter how much I liked them. That was even assuming that they were not on the pill. There was no getting over the fact that I was a prisoner of their family and no amount of pleasantries and small talk was going to change that. No matter how much I liked them. I did my damdest to ride the living bejaysus out of them for I was sure that I was running out of time. It was imperative that I get my oar in and give them the good lash now in the best attempt that I could to get even with the man who`s criminal empire had ruined my life. Well I did my best with the girls to ensure that there was the best of service.
Not for them to be making them come back again to look for more of the magnificent pleasuring. To be sure of having a good chance of getting one of them pregnant I rode them as often as being out my head most of the time allowed. I was of course wholly inexperienced in matters of pregnancy but I knew that some times of the month were better than others, so I endeavoured to ride them all the time. Thankfully they kept coming back for more. As the end of my ordeal appeared to draw near I occasionally reminisced of the rocky barren outcrop that I called home once. Many years ago it seemed in my mind. On the calendar I must have left home this two years I supposed. Maybe even a little longer. I had no idea whatsoever how long I had actually been locked up. Time had long since become something of an unquantifiable commodity. In fact I had adopted the attitude this long time that time was something which I was best doing not counting. Hopefully I expected to be able to use my time as I wanted soon enough, when I walked away and became a freeman.
I had begun to wonder what my life was going to hold for me in the future. Indeed, for the first time in my life I finally began to feel that I could really begin to enact what I was sure was my destiny. To the West I would finally be bound.If I could get a handle on the gear that was. When I thought about it the only real freedom I had ever known was the few hours that had been mine between the escape from the rocky hillock and my eventual incarceration in the brothel. As the thoughts of my hopefully impending release came nearer then I got to wonder did they ever even think of me back home atall. Probably only to denigrate what little memory there was of me way back there where I came from.Anyway I had more important things to ponder than the muck the local yokels back in Gandaoine and surrounding townlands must have been making of my name for the past few years. Sometimes I even wondered did that wan, the sergeants daughter,ever have her baby? I supposed a few years down the line she must surely have had the offending sprog indeed. I wondered who it looked like ? Only time was going to reveal the lineage of the child that was begot of tremendous fun by a few men-jack-o-shaggers down in the townland of Glory that momentous summer. There was no telling what in the name of bejaysus was going on with the remnants of my life back up byond in Ballydonatin and Gandaoine. My family surely had long forgotten me and God knows my old bedroom was probably used as a dry store for the potatoes by now. No doubt they rarely if ever spoke of my existence back up on the rocky hillock.There was no accounting for what sort of things they were saying about me back byond anyroad.
On more important matters concerning my immediate future I could gleen no information from Lug or any of the other numerous Gallagher soldiers who policed the brothel from one end of the day to another. Lately they had become increasingly tetchy and nervous to my mind. As one day stretched into another and the handover still hadn’t happened tensions mounted.
Lug appeared to be getting well above himself of late and at the same time I suspected that he knew something that the rest of the crew were not party to .This speculation was to my mind somewhat confirmed by the manner in which he started to hint that sexual favours were again becoming expected. For the continued supply of smack I would have to put out he said.Or he would bring me no gear. Put out, or run out were his exact words I think. All the same he continued to dole it out in my direction with ever increasing liberal abandon,and continued philanthropic intent. Ever so often he would hold back the stuff for a day or so demanding his pleasure. I was too junked out to resist fully and I relented to a few blow jobs as a compromise despite how demeaning and degrading I found the whole situation. But soon enough the blow jobs were not enough to keep the gear flowing and he eventually cut off the supply of gear altogether again.
I had no doubt whatsoever what he wanted in return for a hit. He wouldn't say no to a shag though he let me know in no uncertain terms. I had my last shred of dignity to hold on to. That was the one act I had not allowed him to commit on me. I was not going to comply with that wish Junkie or no junkie. Freedom I was sure was not far off and I was determined that I was going to walk away from my captivity with one tiny shred of dignity left. I would need that in the outside world .I was, it appeared destined to be swung around like a leaf in the wind to the fortunes that fate put in my way. Perhaps it was so for every one, but I had little opportunity to compare my life with that of others as I was isolated in a cocoon of unreality since I had run away from the hilly mountain outcrop. I often wonder what my life would be like if I had stayed home on the mountain and married that youngwan who claimed I had fathered a child by her? Equally, I wondered what life I would now be living if I had never been cursed with the tool of pleasure, the singular cause of my most misfortunate life.
If I didn't get a handle on using the gear then I was likely to completely mess up what little future I had as well. I decided that I was under no circumstances going to sacrifice the tiny shred of dignity that I had left to the great Lug from the Eastern bloc. I made up my mind to kick the gear for good. He didn't like that and the next time he came a calling to my room with a bag of gear and a smarmy look in his eyes. I delighted in telling him to go away and fuck himself for I was not available for his particular sexual desires.He was most put out and went off in an awful huff altogether muttering something about the fact that I would change my mind quick enough when I was suffering from the throes of withdrawal. I full well knew that he was right in that. I knew that a body would fall to any depths to gain a hit when suffering from the lack of gear. What he didn't know of course was that I had taken the precaution of stocking up on my emergency supply of gear over the past few weeks of his seemingly endless generosity. I was sure that I could hold out I until I was released, at which time I promised myself that I would indeed go clean and give up the stuff altogether. I was not willing to sacrifice my life for a few hits of gear once I was released from my current situation.
. I had already wasted some of the best years of my life. I was determined not to waste the rest of my time on this mortal earth stoned if every thing worked out and I was soon a freeman. I would clean myself up soon I promised myself. I kept myself happy over the next week stoned on my emergency supply of gear and shagging the bosses daughters while at the same time hoping upon hope that I was away from the Hell I called a life sooner than later. Things were surely dragging on at this stage and I was screwing the young wans with all the virility I could muster and was frankly exhausted .I would surely be expecting to have some manner of a result on the pregnancy front soon if I had been doing the job right .
As freedom approached I tried to think of a past reality that only seemed ridiculous in its normality from the captivity of my brothel chamber, resplendent with inbuilt sadomastic gear and medieval shackles. A chained gimp on the love platform. At least these days I was still only shackled with a single chain and did not have to suffer the ignominy of the bondage suit this long time. Far all that, I was only a captive less denigrated that previously and none the less a captive for all that. I could equally never allow myself to forget that my very life was still hanging on the edge of mortality and I could be popped at the Bossmans will if he discovered that my plan for revenge came to fruition before I was released. He would not like it if he got to hear that I had impregnated one or two of his daughters. That would indeed be the end of me. Not that I let that consideration bother me when the two young women came a calling on an almost daily basis to play. We still had the fun and I enjoyed immensely the sheer virility I felt trying to impregnate them. I could detect little sign that I had achieved any measure of success in my venture for revenge and I was little enough versed in the ways pregnancy to properly recognise any signs anyway. Some ten days after the Lug had withdrawn the supply of fresh gear and I had run out of my own secret supply I had the first of what I knew to be many smack withdrawal convulsions. That did not dint the efforts of the great Lug who would not on any account give up trying to have his dastardly sodomotic way with me. Twice daily he was coming in with the gear while I lay there in a variety of states of convulsions, waning in my resolve it had to be said each and every time to the point where I have to confess that I finally relented and decided the next time he visited I was going to let him have his way. Some hour later he arrived waving a bag and as he looked at me the defiance in my eyes having dissipated, he knew that he had won and duly tossed me a bag of the poison and let me get on with lashing a bit of gear into meself. All the while he had his hands all over me and he was positively frothing at the mouth in expectation at the mere thought of it. High as a kite I duly removed my kit and raised my buttocks to offer him the last shred of my dignity in this whole sad and sorry episode. I was deeply saddened by the fact of my lack of will power to resist the advances of him who I despised so much. I lay waiting while he removed the scanty articles of clothing that protected my few remaining shards of dignity and prepared for the ignominy that was to follow. I braced myself, but to no avail for the Lug, in the throes of forcing himself on me fell to the ground with an enormous thud. I turned around to look and see what had happened and upon sighting the Lug somewhat motionless on the floor I took to thinking that he had suffered a heart attack. The most strange thing caught my attention, I could see upon his forehead a small puncture hole. A hole from which blood flowed.
Then I heard a deep and harsh voice behind me.
"Get up you bowsie and clean out your cell. You cant be leaving dead bodies lying around now, wha?"
Behind, in the doorway stood a big and burly character silhouetted against the light that shone brightly from behind him. The man was built like a veritable brick shithouse. He moved closer onto the dark of the love chamber. I froze at the thought that this could only be the boss man. The implication that the Lug had been plugged suddenly dawned on me. I braced myself for the worst.
"Did you hear me you little bollix, wha?"
I could barely talk proper and I mumbled out something to the effect that I think I did.
Instinctively I started praying. I was in mortal fear for my life.
"Are you taking the piss or what .Do you want to go the same way as the double crossing little bollix lying well and truly plugged beside you? Or do you want to play the fucking game and maybe you`ll be back walking the streets of whatever fucking backwater slurry tank you blew in from?. Get your arse outta that bleddin bed and move that fucking useless carcass. See that prick, feeding you with the gear he was against my orders soas you`d be in no fit state to be exchanged. The bastard wanted the whole thing to blow up in my face and he was hoping that fucking band of Muppets, the Mulligans, were going to plug me then. Where would you bleedin get it, wha? Bring the ungrateful little Slav over here and get him set up in a job and what have you and he isn`t two minutes trying to take the business offayou.
Mind you, I’d have plugged the bollix after you escaped that time, only the fucking madame was particularly partial to having him around. For fucking security she says, only in time I find out its security against me she’s really thinking about. Well she doesn't have to worry about security now I can bleedin tell ya".
He let out a monstrous and knowing laugh that didn't need a great deal of elaboration to leave me in no element of doubt that Madame had recently gone the same way as Lug, God rest their sad and sorry soul`s. That would at least explain her distinct lack of presence of late.
"Right then" he continued," for obvious reasons I gave the rest of the security staff the night off, and I don't do manual labour so you’ll have to carry that fucking gallute down to my car. All right.”
I was acutely aware that I could be the next victim. After I had served his needs he might well be thinking of doing away with me. I had at least the pleasure of knowing that I would die with a shred of decency still intact, for the Lug had failed to have his final way with me. I`d have been so much the unhappier if he had sodomized me. I had no problem with the manner in which the bossman had death with Lug, but I was the witness to a murder. That made me a threat to the bossman. I was afraid that my time left on the mortal coil was numbered in minutes. I was too stoned on gear to attempt an escape. I was going to have no chance to defend my self against the Bossman even if the winds of fortune happened to throw an opportunity my way. He was armed and ruthless. I was neither armed nor physically strong enough to attack him. He could no doubt see the look of worry on my face as I got up off my perch to carry Lugs remains to the Bossmans car. The Bossman threw me the key to unlock my chains , and I did not know if I was going to be dead in a matter of minutes and thrown into the boot to find my last resting place with the Lug that I despised so much. There was no doubt but that for a fleeting moment I rejoiced in the fact of my freedom from the chains. I had broken the chain of my captivity and now for the first time in more long and sad months than I cared to think about I was at least a little bit free.
"Oh don't you be concerned for your safety. Your about to be handed over to the Mulligans, so you can thank your lucky stars that those bastards have my wife held hostage for you. Though why in the name of jaysus they’d want to have a smackhead like you back is byond me. But anyway".He then continued to describe the immediate future that awaited me. “I`ll have to deliver you in good order so take your pathetic and smacked out mind away from thoughts of getting plugged just yet .You happen to be more use to me at the moment alive than dead,”says he, which as you can imagine was likely to be a great relief to me altogether. “That lot over the other side of the town will be making sure that I give you back half alive. Personally, Ill just be happy to see the bleedin back of you , for you've been nothing but a shit load of trouble since the day I had the misfortune to send my lads up to the park to relieve you of your horse and cows."
"Cattle," I corrected him, resisting the urge to sound above my self.
"Shut the fuck up, Cattle, Cows what the fuck difference does it bleedin make?" was the Bossmans terse reply. As you can imagine I resisted the urge to start an in-depth explanation of exactly what the difference between the two of them was.
He wasn't finished discussing my future with himself however. "The thing of it is,"says he, “I will have to hand you over to get my own missus back. Then again, maybe I should just pop you and let them do what they like with the missus, Wha, kill two birds with the one stone , wha?" He burst out laughing at the magnificence of his own wit. I can tell you that he was the only one laughing for I found little funny in his words."Only kidding son," he reassured me, though I was less than trusting at his sentiments. At least now I knew the whole game plan. It made sense to me finally to know that his wife had been kidnapped for a ransom against me. At least the fact that his wife had been captured by the other side made me feel somewhat confident that I was going to walk away from this OK. A lot was explained by his words. I now knew why the whole mood of the place was so tense this last few months. The Bossman was obviously well deep in a battle with the Mulligans, and they each had a hostage to bargain with. But I was still a mere pawn for all that and I had to watch my self. The end game may have been in play , but I was till not a freeman.
I got to the task of sorting out the mess with Lug and after some giantine effort I gave up in exhaustion, but was soon revived by the sight of the Bossmans shooter pointing in my direction. However the task was not easy, I being somewhat unfit after my long confinement and I was also completely stoned from the gear that the Lug had forced upon me before his untimely demise. Notwithstanding the handicaps to getting the job done I eventually managed to get the extraordinary weight of Lug into the car. I made a pathetic attempt to look for any possibility of escaping, for I would be a fool to trust in the word of Gallagher one way or another. But I could see no opportunity to escape however and eventually got in the car. I tried to keep alert for any opportunity to escape but through the exhaustion from physical activity and the impact of the gear on my system I was realistically incapable of escaping even if I did manage to make a break for it. I just went along with the ride and tried as best as I could to figure out where we were going. I knew little of the roads we travelled. I was unused to the street light`s and the light`s from other cars. I had for so long spent all my time in the semi dark of the brothel the street lights were difficult to adjust to. I was quiet dazed and stunned by the combination of speed and noise from the car. It was with relief that I finally noticed the city lights dim somewhat. The car finally began to make its way towards what I remembered from the times of old as the lights of the country. Houses dotted here and there an occasional small town. And less traffic. I could also see the night lights of the sky for the first time in a long time.
. The black bedecked with glittering hues. The black of night was something I had missed in the city sky. The clarity of black that is only found in the country amid the sparkle of the stars. There was of course the added beauty of the full moon that shone its light on us and gave us a hint of magic to look at. I had no idea if I was going to live to see the dawn, but those few hours in the car gave me a hint of what my life had once been like and I could fondly remember the times I once had, as a care free country boy. I was with the city , and I would never be that country Boy again. But even so I enjoyed the night magic. A special magic that only those who live in the country know well. The city folk can only dream of the delight of a night sky in the country. They see only the mirror of the skys beauty in the din of the halogen lamp illuminations.As the car drove towards my destiny I could only think of the life that I had lived and the complete mess that I had made of everything and the appalling manner in which I had so badly misjudged everything. As the night continued to darken and the road became of less and less of a quality, the air began to taste of salt .I knew that smell in the air.Coastal air. We were near the sea for sure. There was a quality of crispness that I had long forgotten in the mirth and filth of smoggy Dublin. As the smack began to wear off , I was almost relived that if I was going to be plugged, then at least I was going to be plugged in the country .The spade was in the boot of the Car along with the body and it was presumably just a matter of course that we were on route to whatever resting place was to be found for the great Lug, and possibly myself, if things didn't go the best way for me.
It was going to be some bloody job digging out a hole for yer man I can tell you. For he was a mountain of a man. Not that I was likely to have much choice in the matter and equally I was fully aware that I might well be following him in as soon as the hole was dug. Eventually we came to a stop .I didn't recognise the place where we pulled over. But I knew we were close to the coast, for I could hear the sea. There was ,as far as I could make out little opportunity to make an attempt at escape, especially since the smack had by this stage completely worn off and I was completely in the throes of withdrawal convulsions. The bossman ordered me out of the car and told me to go around the back and get the shovel out. There was little else for it but to do as he said. I said a little prayer before what could well be my last moments. I trembled as I walked around the back of the big estate car and opened the boot and with the aid of the bossman I hauled out the great big gallute to his final resting place. I was a tad confused though as I the ground appeared to be somewhat hard, too hard for digging and I began to wonder what exactly the bossman had planned for the removal of the body. For over twenty minutes or so we pulled and tugged the body over rough terrain until eventually I could hear the roar of the sea very close and feel the wet spray on my face. I could only figure from what I could see about me that we were heading up to the top of a cliff. That made no sense atall -for the boss man had insisted that we bring up the spade. But there was little enough that I could do to get an answer out of him as to how the Hell I was going to dig a hole in the sheer hard lump of rock. Not indeed that it mattered for if he was going to pop me then he was going to do it one way or another and the longer it took to dig the hole the longer I was likely to be alive to try and figure out a way to escape. I had little enough energy to escape even if I could for I was well and truly shagged from the sheer gigantine effort of going through the withdrawal at the same time as hauling the Lug to his eternal resting place. I have to admit that I really couldn’t see why the Boss needed to go to so much trouble to bury your man, there must have been better places closer to Dublin. But then mine was not to reason why, but rather to do, or die, perhaps literally .
Thankfully we finally arrived at our destination and sat on the ground to take a rest. The bossman pulled out a big spliff and sparked up the joint and took a long and hard drag from the pungent smelling weed before giving me a blast of the number. I was baffled as to what the Hell he planned to do with the body because the ground we were sitting on was solid rock and nothing else. I had speculated correctly and we were on the edge of a cliff .Which was a strange backdrop to the rather matey sharing of what could well be the last moments of my life ,with the man who was going to possibly kill me after our little bonding session. But not a lot of what was going on made any sense atall as far as I could see. So why should this little moment be any different. I could of course only think that he was happy to get me in a state of canaboid lethargy to make me easier to pop off when the time came. Soon enough the little matey moment passed and it was all back to business.
"Roite you bleedin bollix, get your arse and give us a hand swinging this traitorous bastard over the side".
So that was the plan. He was going to throw the body in the sink. His remains fell fast and hard and was quickly washed out to sea.
Finally the bossman broke his silence after uttering a sinister little laugh.
"Thing of it is son that body will never be found once the current is going a particular way, which I checked up ,and tonight was the night. This buggar would have been dead three weeks ago after I found out what he was up to, trying to take over the Gallagher empire, but the currents weren't right. Who did the little fucker think he was anyway, wha? There’s no way anyone will ever find that fucking arseholes remains I can assure you son. Now come on and let’s get back down the hill to the car."
Just at that point I turned to ask why he had made me carry the spade all the way up to the top of the cliff for .Then I felt the reason for his bringing along the spade.I felt it right across my back as the lights went out in my head. I was getting used to getting knocked out cold by this stage. This time when I woke up I had a fair idea that I had survived, for the sensations were somewhat along the lines of the waking on the previous two occasions that I had been knocked out cold in the last few years. Well, sure enough third time lucky and l knew as soon as my sight came back that I was going to be OK. At least I was still alive. I do confess that I was somewhat disturbed to discover that I was once again tied up. At least this time I wasn't chained, which had to be considered as at least coming up in the world somewhat. I didn't have to wait long after coming around to come face to face with the bossman again.
"Well son," he said coming into the room of what looked to be some sort of a cottage. "Sorry about the oul clip with the spade but I could`nt risk you making a run for it once you weren't hampered by the weigh of the body. So I gave you one across the head, only a small little tap really. You`ll be right as rain in a couple of days. Thing of it is son that I have to hand you over to get my wife back, and I have to hand you over in good shape. That means you have to be clean for a while and well have to you feed you up healthy like. The Mulligans couldn't believe you were the fucking wreck of a human in the leather suit that time they came to rescue you. That`s why Lug was feeding you that fucking smack muck. So as to delay the whole handover, like, in the hope that the delays would cause suspicion on both sides and possibly lead to an all out war between the two clans. That would be no good for any one but all the Lugs fucking East European friends just waiting in the background to try and take over Dublin. So you see kid , there's at lot more at stake than you could ever imagine. The bottom line is that the Lug and the Madame kept your presence in the brothel a secret from me try and build up a situation where your presence in my brothel was the cause of a major war. All the time I was denying that I ever had you. The whole situation would have been of great help to the ambitions of The Lug and Madame. Anyway the day is saved once we get you back to the other side, and then we can both get on with the job of squashing the Europeans. For what it’s worth I’m sorry for all you had to go through but I’ll not see you stuck for a few bob before we part company .O.K. So we’ll clean you up for a few days and it’ll all be over.
Of course he was going to give it all that shitte wasn't he? There was no doubt but that he wanted me going back to the Mulligans saying that he was really a nice guy and that they should leave it out and just get on with him. Of course, these hard men like to have a few little stories running around about them ,and no doubt he will be hoping that I was also going to be off telling tales about the killing of the Lug and the clever way in which he dumped the body. Well, if there’s one thing I was learning that was when to recognise someone else’s agenda, and the Bossman clearly had his all along, as I had suspected. And now I had to sit there guarded against escape going through the horror of smack withdrawal, yet again. This withdrawal was the worst that I had ever experienced, for I had been hitting the stuff fairly heavily of late, and the convulsions were nothing short of brutal.
The boss left three men to guard over me, night and day, to ensure that I did`t get any funny ideas .I was bought out daily for a walk and fed as well as their limited range of culinary skills would allow. By the time I had been there for a week I was feeling positively healthy for the first time in as long as I could remember. I could feel the strength returning to my limbs day by day, as the benefits of my convalescence began to be felt.I could not make out exactly where I being held, but there was no doubt but that I was somewhere very different from any landscape that I knew from my limited knowledge of Ireland. I never seen such a brown,wet and heathery landscape. And so many rocks, all hilly like home, but barely a touch of soil in places. That was my temporary abode, and I had a vested interest in knowing where I was, in case a good opportunity to escape came my way. But the lads weren’t opening up and indeed barely said a word from one end of the day to another. The brown beauty of the landscape I found myself in was only surpassed by the stunning sunsets that I was normally allowed out to watch every evening. The chill in the air told me that we were close to sea ,though the ruggedness of the landscape suggested that I was not on any Eastern coastline.
I whiled away the long hours as best as I could reading books and contemplating the disaster that my life had become. I was at least over the worst of the physical withdrawal ,and I was ,as you can understand rather anxious to be getting the Hell away from the clutches of the Gallaghers in case news of my revenge plan came to light. So I did my best to be seen to make a great effort to get as well as I could in that short time. I had to be away for fear that the very success of my plan could at this moment, so close to the ending of my captivity, be the very undoing of me. Indeed there was very much a sense of urgency about my recovery and I could almost feel my body respond in kind, for I was starting to pep up and look reasonably well by leaps and bounds. I had even put on a little weight. I was sure in my mind that my days of doing gear were over. I could feel that and that I would never feel the need again to capture my life in the web of addiction.
All I now wanted for my life now was a little peace and quiet and a complete lack of adventure. I had already had enough excitement to last me a few life times ,and I wasn't out of the woods just yet. Sure enough, my efforts at healing my self as quickly as possible paid off and one morning the boss man turned up in a Hiace van full of very tough looking lads. Lads that were definitely not just out for a few days break in the country. There was little doubt but that they were armed to the hilt and ready for action. So tense was the mood you could feel it in the air. I looked closely for any hint that the bossman had found out about my little plan for revenge. He looked tense but didn't give me any special attention , and so I had to assume that my plan was still going according to plan and that he hadn’t found out any thing. Then again maybe I had failed?
Any way ,the rest of the day was business as usual for the armed thugs as they prepared their weapons. Though I was in the bedroom all the time, I had no guard with me and I was able to spy out the door to see what the Hell was going on. The arsenal I caught a glimse of was awesome to say the least. I got to overhear some of the main points of the briefing the bossman gave his troops .I learned that the two boss`s were to go alone to a remote spot and I was to be handed over with a few kilos of cocaine as a compensation payment to the Mulligans. I was to go to the Mulligans while the other party was to come back to her husband at the same time. I heard the Bossman tell the crew to get down to the handover site early and go to ground near the spot and to stay out of sight, but keep close enough in case of trouble. It was safe to assume that The Mulligans were equally likely to bring a small army, and disperse them in much the same way, despite the agreement for both leaders to go in alone. There was no doubt but that there was going to be a need to thread easy when the appointed time came for there was likely to be some amount of firepower ready and available and all of it likely to be aimed in my direction. I was getting nervous as the gang disappeared and only the boss man and I remained .
Finally a ring broke out on a new fangled mobile phone that the boss had with him. The latest of gadgetry he was want to tell anyone in his vicinity. And I had to say it was a handy enough gadget altogether. He and the Mulligan both had one.That was how they were going to make the final contact, with their new fangled mobile phone gadgets.They were to call each other on their mobiles at an appointed time and then they would make the handover. I could tell that handing over the few Kilos of Coke as compensation for the Mulligan was an admission of defeat by the Gallaghers for that coke was surely worth a fair few bob. Well, the time for action came and we got in the Van covered in muck from the drive down from Dublin. I was obviously well away from the capital and there was no telling where we were, though I did my best to try and read the few sign posts, but to no avail for there hardly seemed to be any of them. This was truly a remote and barren landscape that I was travelling through. Seeing that I had no choice but to hope for the best I did just that and eventually we arrived at the handover spot and the bossman picked up his mobile and made that important call. The meet was on and we drove another few hundred yards before we finally got out of the car and proceeded to the meeting place , and the few kilos of coke were slung around my neck for my hands were still bound. The moment finally arrived and a light appeared from out behind bushes and an old merc drove towards us at a slow pace, eventually stopping some fifty yards from us. I recognised the big and burley physique for the Mulligan and a smaller figure of a woman was beside him. The Mulligan shouted across the field .
"That you Gallagher?"
"Yeah, Mulligan?" replied my current boss.
"right send the kid over and I`ll send your wife at the same time , O.K.?"
"Right, lets get on with it so." Gallagher stopped shouting and turned to me."Right, no fuck ups you understand, and when you get over there you had better bleedin tell them you were treated allright, you understand. That will not be too much skin off you nose will it? He was most anxious to appease the Mulligan and I had to assume was intimidated by him.He shoved an envelop in my pocket ."Theres a few bob for you to get started again. No hard feelings, eh? I could feel the bulge of notes in my pocket.Maybe things were going to turn out alright l got to thinking as I started on my way across the field. I could see the wife of Gallagher coming closer to me out of the dark .I could hear the Gallaghers high tech mobile phone going off behind me and I wondered was there anything the matter. It was a new device that looked the size of a brick but could be used anywhere. Gallagher was a man who liked to be in touch. Something must have been up for I heard him rather agitated on the phone.I just kept walking towards Mulligan. Gallagher became rather loud on the phone and I could tell that even Mulligan was starting to get concerned as he backed off a little from the open field and closer to his car. The Gallaghers ranting and raving got louder and more hysterical and I distinctly heard my name mentioned about the half way mark when Mrs.G and I passed each other without barely any eye contact. I was getting worried about Gallaghers attitude though although the handover still appeared to be going alright .
But the Gallagher was shouting my name at top cracking decibel levels.
"You bastard Johnny Dickson, You bastard, I`m going to kill you for getting both my girls pregnant." Jaysus that's what all the commotion was about, someone back home had called to tell him his little girls were all knocked up. I was delighted of course, and did my damnedest to speed up my escape somewhat, so that I could get out of reach of any attempt by the Gallagher to clatter the living shitte outta me before I could get to the other side. I picked up my pace towards the Mulligans car, breaking into the best trot that could manage. I was glad to have had the opportunity to learn that my plan was a success and even more delighted to have gotten away with it. A few more steps and I was home and dry .Gallagher would never attempt anything while Mulligan was about. I ran as best I could, with my hands tied and the weight of the kilos of coke around my neck adding to the difficulties. Unfortunately, I could barely manage the effort and was soon tumbling down towards the ground .I don't know exactly what happened next but all Hell broke lose and an almighty fire fight broke out all around me from every direction.I was caught in the cross fire that went on over head. I heard later that over twenty men were injured and three mortally so. It appeared that my side thought that I had been shot by the other side when I stumbled on the ground and opened fire at the opposition. After all ,the Gallagher had been shouting that he was going to kill me, so their reaction was understandable enough I suppose.
By the time the shooting had died down the loudhailers and spotlights that the cops had with them came in to action and there were cops running hither and thither from all directions. Eventually a pile of ambulances could be heard in the distance coming towards the scene. The gangs weren’t as clever as they had thought I think. I was immediately arrested for possession of the cocaine and the envelop of cash in my pocket didn’t help convince them that I wasn't a member of one of the gangs.
I spent a few weeks in mountjoy prision before they finally let me go having had my story verified by some of the surviving criminal’s , for though they didn't think much of me they all recognised that I had been most down on my luck this long time ,and I deserved a break. Fortunately the cops never managed to link my name with any of the incidents that I had been involved with way back home. It was my good fortune that they did not pick up anything from my past, for once luck was shining on me, and about time too I couldn't help thinking. So it happened that one day some two good years after I had run away from the barren hill I hit the streets of the Capital a second time, though now as a free man. A free man for the first time in a long time. The cops had also no choice but to return the money that I had been given by Gallagher as they had no legal basis on which to keep it, though they could have made life difficult and pursued me under the Immoral earnings laws. The wad of some good many thousands of pounds that the Gallagher had given to me I decided to use to do something that I had thought long and hard about.
I was going have an operation to reduce the size tool of the tool of pleasure. I had decided that the tool was singularly the cause of all my problems in life to date. The tool of magnifiance would have to become somewhat less magnifiant if I was to have any hope of a normal life. Only when I was the same size as the average man would I have any peace atall I was sure. So I arranged to go and have a radical tool reduction job. No longer would the wand of sensual pleasure cause me more trouble. All I wanted to be was normal. That's all.
I duly went into the private medical practice to have the operation. An operation that the surgeon called a most unusual request, but he relented any way and agreed to do the job. While waiting in my room the night before I was to go down to the theatre a nurses aid came in my room that had a look of familiarity about her. I thought she was perhaps one of my former clients. Then I looked closer and our eyes met and I knew who she was, though she was no longer the girl that I had met just a few years before , but rather a fine young woman. A woman who’s looks only matched the beauty that I could discern in her soul, through her eyes. It was Francis Mulligan.
We knew at that moment as we laid eyes on each other that we were completely in love. I knew that she thought the same. Though we spoke no words we did not need to .Our eyes did all the talking. When we finally started yandering on , we just couldn't stop, and we rambled on incessantly for what seamed like an age. She of course insisted that I cancel the operation, for she said that she wouldn't mind a go of that lad herself. For her I could but relent, and so it came to pass that she was the only one from that day forward that had the benefit of the romancing the lad of magnificence.

Epilogue

I could hear a sound that was strangely familiar.
A voice A voice that I knew somewhere from my past, and yet I could not place it entirely.
A voice shouting at me.
"Johnny , Johnny "the voice beckoned.
I remember as I came too what had happened .Slowly the nightmare that I had endured surfaced to the top of my consciousness and I was delighted to know I had nothing to fear from the incidents that seamed so clear in my mind, but that I now knew to have been only a dream. One of those wet dreams that Brother Declan was always on about. Thank God for that I thought, as some oulwan kept hollering my name with an almighty screech of a voice.
"Get up Johnny and take your pills , said a strangely familiar voice. Perhaps it was Francis. As I came to I saw the distinctive uniform of a nurse standing over me.
"Come on Johnny, take you pills like good man", said the nurse.
The first question I thought to ask was where was I , and what was I in hospital for. Perhaps I had gone ahead with the operation to reduce the size of the lad afterall? Where was Francis? I was too groggy to be clear in my mind. I asked the nurse what was going on.
"Like I tell you every bloody morning Johnny,You are in the Central Mental Hospital in Dundrum and you are here because you killed a man in your youth and caused the death of a police officer and on top of that , you became insane as a result of a bout of Syphilis from the time you worked as a male prostitute. You were committed for life to this mental hospital where you have been for a good thirty years , and where you will stay until the day you die because the magistrates have decided that you are mad as a hatter.Now just once I wish that we didn't have to have this exact same conversation every day and that you would just take your pills and let me get on with my rounds without all this carryon," said Nurse.
So it was all true. My story , the story of Johnny Dickson really is a sad and sorry tale.
THE END .
Title and Concept Copyright protected US Library of Congress 2005

Note from the writer JP Murphy
Johnny “X” Dickson was found guilty of the murder of a musician from his townland of Carnew in County Wexford ( a bodhran player in a traditional band) and of manslaughter and failing to stop at the scene of an accident involving a police officer.
He was found guilty but insane and sentenced to life in Dundrum mental institution. No evidence has ever been put forward to corroborate his story of having been held prisoner by a Madame in a brothel in Dublin. He came to the attention of police following his capture with a group of known criminals exchanging drugs and cash at a remote location in Galway in the the west of Ireland. Corroborating his claims to be from the townland of Carnew in County Wexford has proved difficult as locals have consistently denied that he is from the area. Medical staff at the mental institution in Dundrum hospital do however corroborate one of his claims - that he is xtraordinarily well hung. The real person upon who’s story the character Johnny Dickson was based passed away in 2004. Bossman Gallagher, released from prison a few years prior to Dicksons death refuses to corroborate or deny the tale that has become known as the sad and sorry tale of Johnny Dickson.

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