Clean

Clean 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)

Deck

Back the halls with gasoline, la la la la la.

Light a match and watch it gleam, la la la la la.

My school is burnt into ashes, fa la la la la, la la la la.

Mom: Go clean your room, Little Johnny.

Little Johnny: No, it’s my room.

Mom: Well, it’s my house.

Little Johnny: Then go clean it.

Mom: Go to school!

At school:

Teacher: Hi, Little Johnny. You’re late.

Little Johnny: Watch because my son of a bitch mom told me to clean her room. I told her no, it’s my room, and then she said, 'Well, it’s my house.' Then I said, 'Go clean it,' and then she told me to go to school.

Teacher: Johnny, go to the principal’s office! You just came into school and now you're causing trouble. Go!

Mom: Clean your room! Me: No, it’s my room, and I don’t want to clean it. Mom: You are nothing like Mrs. Smith’s daughter. Me: Well, I’m not Mrs. Smith’s daughter now, am I? You are the worst. Why are you trying to compare me with Mrs. Smith’s daughter? I’m not her, OK? I am not her, so stop! Mom: Do you know what? I pushed you out of my hula for 43 minutes! Do not make me hate you, because guess what? I brought you into the world, and I can take you out of it! Me: Bro.

Why did the rapper take a bath before his concert?

To get his flow SQUEAKY CLEAN!

Q. What do ghosts do when they get hurt?

A. They call an AmBOOlance.

I think it’s dumb that people say a woman belongs in the kitchen.

How else is the rest of the house going to get cleaned?

An old man goes to church.

One Sunday morning, an old cowboy entered a church just before services were to begin. Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt, and boots that were very worn and ragged. In his hand, he carried a worn-out old hat and an equally worn-out Bible.

The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. It was the largest and most beautiful church the old cowboy had ever seen. The people of the congregation were all dressed in expensive clothes and accessories.

As the cowboy took a seat, the others moved away from him. No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him. They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide it.

As the old cowboy was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the cowboy to do him a favor. "Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what he thinks would be appropriate attire for worship."

The old cowboy assured the preacher he would.

The next Sunday, he showed back up for the services wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and hat. Once again, he was completely shunned and ignored. The preacher approached the man and said, "I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church."

"I did," replied the old cowboy.

"If you spoke to God, what did he tell you the proper attire should be for worshiping in here?" asked the preacher.

"Well, sir, God told me that He didn't have a clue what I should wear. He said He'd never been in this church."

I went to see my dentist, and she warned me it was going to hurt. Then, she told me she was having an affair with my husband. Good news though...the cleaning didn't hurt.

So I walked into my bathroom to clean some stuff, and no one ever told me you can't put phones in the bathtub!

A boy was terrible at writing sentences, so his teacher gave him an assignment to help with that. The boy was to go home, write five sentences, and return to school the next day.

When he went home, he took a notepad and a pen and went to his dad for help. His dad was in a very important business call, so he angrily shouted at the child, "Shut up, you donkey!" The boy noted down that sentence. He next went to his mom, who assumed that he wanted to play video games, so she said, "No, my dear, tomorrow." That was his second sentence. For the third sentence, he went to his older brother, who was watching football where someone scored a goal, so he was jumping up and down yelling, "Goal! Goal!"

For the fourth sentence, he went to his sister, who was singing, "Spider-Man, Spider-Man!" For the last sentence, he went to his grandmother, who was cleaning the toilet and singing, "Under the toilet, under the toilet."

He went to school the next day, and his teacher asked him to tell her the sentences. The boy said, "Shut up, you donkey!" The teacher got angry after hearing this and asked the boy, "Do you want me to slap you?" The boy said, "No, my dear, tomorrow." This made the teacher so angry that she slapped the boy. Immediately, he started jumping up and down yelling, "Goal! Goal!" The teacher dragged him to the principal's office, as she was fed up with him. The principal asked the boy what his name was, to which he replied by singing, "Spider-Man, Spider-Man!" She asked him where he lived, so he sang, "Under the toilet, under the toilet."

I think I would like a job cleaning mirrors. It's just something I could really see myself doing.

Motherhood is like a fairy tale, but in reverse. You start out in a beautiful ball gown and end up in stained rags cleaning up after little people.