Bowl

Bowl jokes

Jack opened his drying eyes, awoken by a piercing ray of sunlight shining through crooked blinds. A gentle smell wafted in from the corner of what his temporarily blinded eyes knew to be a dilapidated kitchen. It was the one good thing about his life, that smell. He closed his eyes once more and awaited his call.

“Jacky, breakfast time!” beckoned that oh-so-familiar girlish voice. “Oh, silly me, the handcuffs!”

The same footsteps he always heard, the only ones, tapped along the tile floor as each one of Jack’s limbs were freed from the cold metal that imprisoned them. He’d learned not to resist it, and the acceptance was blissful.

Jack slowly dragged himself to the kitchen table, still adjusting his eyes to the light. Moments later, a bowl was slid over to him by a hand he’d become all too familiar with. Oatmeal with little bits of dried apple mixed in. Even after four years, he still liked it.

“Thank you, Randy,” Jack muttered.

“Jill,” said the girl’s voice across from him. The girl’s voice vanished.

“You call me Randy when I’m having my way with you, boy. Understood?” said the balding, sweat-stained man from whom Jill’s voice came.

“Yes, sir.”

“Now hurry up and eat your food. I want to have some more fun before you expire.”

Jack ate obediently, but deep down he grew concerned. Expired? What could Randy mean by...expired?

He thought back to the day everything went wrong. The day he was deceived. His 14th birthday.

Four years...already? Was Jack really about to be an adult? Then expired means...

Jack stood up quickly, hitting his knees on the table with a thud.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Which one?”

“The one you don’t like to watch,” Jack replied. Randy waved him away dismissively.

Jack paced around the small shack searching for the bathroom door. He passed the heavily locked front door, each lock a memento of his past escape attempts. Finally, he entered the bathroom. No lock, he had to be fast.

Jack searched desperately around the room for anything he could use. If this was his last round before Randy was through with him, it might be his only chance to escape. He opened drawers, scrounged through cupboards, scoured every inch of the floor, but found a small mirror.

“Almost done, Jacky?” called the voice of Jill. “Don’t keep daddy waiting.” grumbled Randy.

Startled, Jack lost his grip on the mirror. Jack froze the second it fell to the floor and shattered.

“Shit...shit!” he whispered sharply, trying to brush the mess away. In doing so, he found a shard large enough to be held. “This’ll have to do...”

Jack slid the shard in his pocket and returned to the living room he had woken up in. The same old deflated mattress was still there, iron bars and all. Randy lay sprawled across it, a pink lace bra covering his hairy chest, matching panties withholding his dense, greasy bush. His waist had grown so fat they hardly fit, until...

SNAP!

The panties seemed to vanish as the waistband broke, springing his embarrassing, already erect penis from side to side.

“Oopsies,” he cooed.

Jack took off his clothes, as was the ritual, and laid them at the foot of the mattress. His sore knees pressed into the stained fabric while he inched closer to Randy’s pulsating cock. Licking his lips, Jack bent down and took the member into his mouth. Randy groaned with pleasure as Jack’s tongue swirled around his tip, diving into the lining of his foreskin to gather what curds of smegma were present. Jack’s nausea at this had vanished long ago, he was merely going through the motions before enacting his plan.

As he throated Randy’s dick over and over again, the man who had trapped Jack for so long began to thrust upward into his mouth, lightly scratching his face with the overgrown pubes that lined the base of his cock. Jack wiggled his tongue in Randy’s urethra, just how he liked it. Anything to get this over with quicker.

“Ungh, fuck...don’t stop Jack, you dirty little whore...I’m so close,” Randy moaned.

Jack sucked harder and harder, faster and faster, all while his hand slowly inched toward the makeshift blade in his pants behind him. With the weapon in hand, Jack gave it everything he had.

“MMMPH FUCK YES, CMON BABY GIVE IT TO ME! OH JACK, OH, OH FUCK, I’M G-GONNA CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!” screamed Randy, closing his eyes tightly.

He threw his head back and Jack took his chance. With one fell swoop of the glass shard, he sliced Randy’s dick clean off, spitting the half of it still in his mouth out. Jack lunged at the injured Randy, glass still in hand.

“AAARRGGHHHHHH, FUCK! HAAH...FUCK!” Randy cried, semen oozing out of his bloody stump of a penis. He opened his eyes just as Jack thrust the blade straight into his right one, then his left. Left weak from the orgasm, Randy could hardly fight back.

(To be continued in comments)

What do you call it when the Edmonton Oilers play against the Nashville Predators? A Diddy Bowl.

"Pull down your pants, pull out my willy, stir your guts round like a hot bowl of chili."

What’s the difference between your sister and a bowling ball?

I can only get 3 fingers in a bowling ball!

I’ve seen more life in a bowl of WEEK-OLD GUACAMOLE than in BLESSEDBRIAN’S jokes.

Who am I rooting for during the Super Bowl? Easy. Taylor Swift.

Little Johnny comes down for breakfast because he lives on a farm, and his mother asks if he has done his chores or not.

"Not yet," says little Johnny, so he goes to feed the chickens, cows, and pigs. He ends up kicking the chickens, cows, and pigs and goes inside and asks why he got a dry bowl of cereal. His mother responds with, "I saw you kick the chickens, so no eggs for a week. I also saw you kick the pigs, so no bacon for a week either. I also saw you kick the cows, so no milk for a week either."

Little Johnny's father comes downstairs and kicks the cats. Little Johnny looks at his mother and says, "You want to tell him, or should I?"

In a bowl of golden delight, I savored each bite so bright, The potato salad, oh so fine, Left me feeling oh so divine.

The diced potatoes, oh so neat, In a dressing so cool and sweet, With onions and eggs, a treat, My taste buds did dance and greet.

The mayonnaise, a creamy dream, With mustard's zesty scheme, Together they did blend so well, My senses did take a spell.

The herbs, a fragrant delight, Added flavor with their might, Parsley and dill, a perfect pair, In this salad beyond compare.

So here's to the potato salad, A culinary work of art, That left me full and satisfied, And in my heart, a special part.

A young cowboy entered a seedy cafe in a small West Texas town.

He sat at the counter and spotted an elderly cowboy with his arms folded and his gaze fixed on a bowl of chili. After roughly 15 minutes of staring at it, the young cowboy boldly inquired, “If you’re not going to eat it, do you mind if I do?” Slowly turning his head toward the young wrangler, the older cowboy muttered, in his best cowboy voice, “Nah. Go ahead.”

The young cowboy eagerly reached over and slid the bowl over to his spot, spooning it in with glee. He was almost to the bottom when he noticed a rotten dead rat in the chili.

The sight was shocking, and he immediately upchucked the chili into the bowl. The old cowboy quietly said, “Yep, that’s as far as I got, too...”

Yo mama so fat that when he was talking to a man, her bowels fell out.

What's the difference between a baby and a bowling ball?

A bowling ball doesn't cry when you put your fingers in it.

Egg shaped, dome, bowling ball lookin' ass, bald fuck with that 360 degrees ahh head, motherfucker look like a damn balloon.

Call me Kobe 'cause I'm finna use your head as a basketball and throw it at yo' parents. Mr. Clean, bootleg Saitama lookin' ass mfer. No hair? :(