Deep 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)
A little boy goes to his dad and asks, "What is politics?" The dad says, "Well son, let me try to explain it this way: I'm the breadwinner of the family, so let's call me capitalism. Your mother, she's the administrator of the money, so we'll call her the government. We're here to take care of your needs, so we'll call you the people. The nanny, we'll consider her the working class. And your baby brother, we'll call him the future. Now, think about that and see if that makes sense."
The little boy goes off to bed thinking about what dad had said. Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has soiled his diaper. The little boy goes to his parents' room and finds his mother sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed.
The next morning, the little boy says to his father, "Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now." The father says, "Good son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about."
The little boy replies, "Well, while capitalism is screwing the working class, the government is sound asleep, the people are being ignored and the future is in deep shit."
A black n***a crashes a neighborhood barbecue, bragging about his 'hood credentials' while hogging all the ribs and collard greens. The host calls him out, 'Yo, pay up or get out. Ain't no freebies here.' He laughs it off, 'Man, I run this block!' But the host's burly brother, who's been grilling the whole time, snarls, 'Wrong, fool. Time to settle the score.' He pins him against the picnic table, wraps a chain leash around his neck from the dog run, edges him with a vibrating basting brush slathered in hot sauce, and then plows his ass deep and hard, grunting, 'Now you're the main course, spicier than the jerk chicken!'
This is two heads.
Deaf. "Deep water." ""
- "78 years."
Are you interested again? ""
"If you go ... you are there."
"No. 85 is good."
What is the most important value? It does not take cheese.
Kelly Clarkson wants to be Rosie O'Donnell so badly. Too bad Kelly is the "Queen of Incest" and not the "Queen of Nice".
(And Kelly came from a sundown town in the Deep South, and not from Long Island.)
Why did the booty go to therapy?
It had some DEEP-SEATED issues.
Why did the rapper bring a shovel to the concert?
To dig deep with his lyrics.
Why did the rapper become a fisherman?
Because he wanted to drop some DEEP SEA RHYMES.
A blind man went to a restaurant.
"Menu sir?" asked the owner. "I'm blind, just bring me one of your dirty forks, I will smell it and order." The confused owner went to the kitchen to retrieve a fork and returned to the blind man.
The blind man smelled the fork with a deep breath, "Yes I will have the lamb with seasoned potatoes and spring vegetables." Unbelievable, thought the owner. The blind man ate and left. Two weeks later the blind man returned. The owner, wanting to know how good his smell is, quickly went to the kitchen where his wife Brenda was cooking and said, "Do me a favor and rub this fork over your private part" which she did. He then goes to the blind man and gives him the fork. The blind man takes it and puts it to his nose and says, "Oh interesting! I never knew Brenda works here!"
I tried to fight a razor. It cut me so deep I thought I would die.
Turns out he didn't kill me. I was never happy, but that shit made me angry.
How do you make a cat sound like a dog? Pour gasoline on it, then light it on fire and it will go "WOOF!"
How do you make a dog sound like a cat? Put it in the deep freeze until frozen solid, then run it through an electric saw and it will go "MMMRROWWWWWW!"
In the realm of poetry's grace, Where words dare to embrace, A request comes with a quirky plea, To give life to what the eyes may see.
"Pussy lussy cussy," it begins, A playful phrase that surely spins, And though the words may raise a smile, Let's craft a verse that goes the extra mile.
In free verse, we'll dance and sway, Allowing thoughts to have their say, For poetry knows no bounds or rules, It's a canvas for expression, where freedom fuels.
But let's remember, dear friend, To keep our words kind and lend, Respect to all, in every line, For poetry's power can truly shine.
So, let's journey on this poetic quest, With words that honor and truly impress, For in the realm of art and verse, We find beauty, in each line immersed.
And though "Pussy lussy cussy" may make us smile, Let's seek inspiration that runs deep, mile after mile, For poetry's magic lies in its ability, To touch hearts, souls, and set thoughts free.
In this short verse, may you find delight, As we paint with words, both bold and light, So let us write, with grace and art, A poem that sings straight from the heart.
In the realm of the mind, Where thoughts wander undefined, This sentence emerges, unconfined, A whimsical phrase, quite inclined.
It dances freely, unrestrained, No structure, no rules, it's unchained, A playful verse, with words unfeigned, The first to surface, unrestrained.
It holds no grandeur, nor deep insight, Just a simple thought, taking flight, A fleeting notion, shining bright, In the realm of words, it feels right.
This sentence, unburdened and free, Plays with language, wild and carefree, A tiny poem, as small as can be, Yet it speaks volumes, silently.
So let it wander, let it roam, Across the page, it finds a home, Unfettered by rhythm, it freely roams, This sentence, the first, stands alone.
Madden, because tissue, I weep Tears like rivers, cascading deep In this world, so full of strife I find solace in this fragile life.
Oh tissue, tender and so pure, Absorbing pain, a whispered cure. Each tear that falls, you gently hold, A conduit for the stories untold.
In the quiet moments, I confide In your embrace, I can't hide The weight of sorrow, the burden's strain You're there, a balm for every pain.
But madden, oh how you disrupt, In your chaos, emotions erupt. You twist and tangle, hearts collide, Leaving us lost, unable to decide.
Yet even in your tangled mess, You bring forth growth, a rare finesse, For in the madness, we find our way To stand tall, facing a brand-new day.
So madden, meet tissue, ever entwined, In this dance of emotions, our souls aligned. Through tears and anger, joy and fears, We find strength, as life perseveres.
Short and sweet, this tale of strife, Unraveling souls, seeking life. Madden, because tissue, we may be, But we'll rise above, forever free.
Fork pierces the flesh. Guided by hunger's demand, Savoury feast waits.
Tines dig deep within, Seeking the sustenance craved, A mealtime delight.
Belly grumbles loud, Yearning for nourishment's touch, Fork answers the call.
Food on the platter, Fork dances with anticipation, To satiate hunger's plea.
Digestion begins, Fork's journey now complete, Nourishing the soul.
Why does the fork go? To bring joy to empty hearts, Satiating needs.
In the stomach's depths, Fork finds purpose and solace, A culinary bond.
With each mealtime tale, The fork carves memories deep, In stomachs it rests.
Balls deep.
I looked so deep in the dark web, I started to see Tyrone.
What do you call a deep diver? A DeepWoken player.
"Honey, let's not go so deep into the woods, please. I'm starting to get scared."
"It's easy for you to talk. I can go back alone right now!"
Your hairline goes as far back as the cavemen. Your forehead is also as deep as the cave.