Floor 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)
The bear rug on Chuck Norris's floor isn't dead, it's just afraid to move.
A team of cops and a news reporter are at a home where a violent crime has been committed. The head news reporter, in front of the camera, says, "A woman in this house has killed her husband because he stepped on the floor while she was mopping." He then turns around and asks a cop, "Has the woman been arrested yet?" The cop replies, "Not yet, we're waiting for the floor to dry."
Ummmm 67.
Yo bro, look at this twig I found on the floor. Wait...
She said she wanted me to treat her like a dishwasher. So I loaded her up, ran her through a rough cycle, and left her wet and broken on the floor.
Lemme tell you a little story.
It’s night. You’re in your room, trying to sleep. But you keep hearing it—scratching. Soft at first. Like fingernails on wood. You tell yourself it’s rats, or the house settling. But it keeps going. Slow... then faster.
So finally, you get outta bed. You get on your hands and knees, put your ear to the floor. And you hear it. A voice. Whispers. Crying.
Your heart’s pounding. You grab a crowbar. You pry up the floorboards. One by one. Your sweat’s dripping into the dust. The noise gets louder.
And finally... you peel back the last plank.
And you see these eyes. Wide and terrified. And a pale little face staring up at you.
BOOOOOOO!!!!
It’s Anne Frank.
Your mom was absolutely getting drilled by me on the living room floor last night.
Your mum's vagina is so ravenous, that last night we both ended up on the living room floor, with her on top. She was eating my creamy young face off.
I was lying on the living room carpet the other day with my girlfriend on top of me in wings and a tutu, making out.
I called her the Fallen Angel.
Why does the Queen have more mobility than the King in chess?
Because it's shaped like the kitchen floor.
Little Brown Bear (LBB): Why did Santa take the kitty and all of my toys, Mummy?
His mom: Maybe because you're the second most massive shit stain besides Caillou.
*Krampus comes down the chimney to eat LBB*
Krampus: Should’ve been better, Little Bear.
LBB: Help, Mummy! He’s the Scratchy monster!
Shrek: Just kidding, it’s not Krampus, but indeed me and Black Donkey instead, and we’re going to poop on your floor.
Duggie: Hopefully Marvin doesn’t see us, and by the way, want some purplish Kool-Aid?
WORLDWIDE RAP: Takin’ a Battery Park tour in Calgary, a Mali rapport and a factory in Lahore in an Annapolis store, Calgary's core, went to Nairobi’s floor and visited Valerie Moore, then bought some Shanghai decor and got salaries in Seoul’s war, studied the Vatican’s lore, wanted to see Manhattan’s allure and visit the Galilee shore to check Napoli’s score, a tragedy in Warsaw, Palmyra before, check out the cavalry corps, went to a Bali resort, a Madrid encore but had to take a Hackney detour.
Why did the mop lick the floor of the bathroom? Because it was so poopy.
A boss said to his secretary, "I want to have sex with you, but I will make it very fast."
"I'll throw $1,000 on the floor and by the time you bend down to pick it up, I'll be done."
She thought for a moment then called her boyfriend and told him the story. Her boyfriend said, "Do it but ask him for $2,000. Then pick up the money so fast, he won't even have enough time to undress himself." She agrees.
After half an hour passes, the boyfriend calls the girlfriend and asks, "So what happened?" She responds, "The... bastard.....used.....coins."
Me: Which WiFi are we on?
Coworker: Should be floor 89.
Me: What about flight 104?
Coworker: Oh crap!
I saw a black man riding a brand new bike, so I went home to check my garage. It’s all good because I still saw mine still chained to the floor begging for food.
I was at work and a few fat women came up to me and asked for some help.
Later that week, I ran into them on the dance floor. One of them asked me if I wanted to dance. I told her no. The other asked me if I knew what was cracking. I calmly said, "The floor."
Roses are red, Get on the ground, Gimme your stuff, Get ready to drown!
What went through the heads of the people on the 142nd floor during 9/11?
The 143rd floor.