Himself 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)
Why is Hitler a better person than Jeffrey Epstein?
At least Hitler killed himself.
Why can't Stephen Hawking win any arguments?
Because he can't stand up for himself.
I know a man who gave up smoking, drinking, sex, and rich food. He was healthy right up to the day he killed himself.
Old McDonald cuts himself. E-m E-m-O!
Kurt Cobain didn't mean to kill himself. He was just so high he thought the shotgun was a bong.
His lyrics are so ironic but so true. "I'm not coming back". "I swear I don't have a gun."
A German priest went to America for a few months. Unfortunately for him, he did not speak the best English. He stayed with a beautiful, young single woman who worked at a nearby orphanage.
Every day, he visited her in the orphanage, and he always brought her small gifts, and of course to the young children.
The young woman thought the priest was flirting with him, and she knew he was not married. She left that thought in the back of her mind for a few weeks.
A few weeks later, she finally brought up her nerve to ask him. She asked him why he always visited her, and why all the gifts for her and the children.
Of course, due to his bad English, he struggled a bit with his sentence, but he said in his thick German accent, "Vell, I visit you and your, your littles, because the kind girls here are very beautiful and cute."
She was quite amused, and blushed a bit. The man was also a bit nervous, and appeared to want to leave her office.
The Priest then excused himself, and went to read the orphans a bedtime story.
He then muttered to himself, "Ach, she's catching on to me! Stupid! Zey are called little girls and boys, not child boys and girls."
My friend was in a crash, so when he got put in a wheelchair, people bullied him, so I told him to stand up for himself.
Q: Why did Hitler shoot himself?
A: Because his mother taught him to take out the trash.
Little Jim's friend told him that if he farts, he will give him a tenner. Little Jim tries to fart, but he poos himself, and he is bullied until he puts the poo on the bullies' face.
Why did the Invisible Man turn down a job offer? He couldn’t see himself doing it.
What do you call a gay kid that killed himself?
A byebyesexual.
How do you win an argument against an emo kid?
Give him a gun, he'll just shoot himself.
Dave got a new job at the suicide hotline.
The manager shows him to his desk and Dave has a seat.
The manager says, "Remember! Your job is to make sure that the person at the other end of the line does not kill himself, no matter what! That's the one thing you have to do!"
Dave says "No problem! I will do exactly what you just told me!" and the manager leaves him to his job.
A few minutes, later Dave's phone rings.
"Hello?" Dave answers. No response for a few seconds, then a voice appears.
"My wife cheated on me," a man says. The man on the other end of the line is clearly depressed.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Dave says.
"I found out that she's been doing it for months; she says I don't treat her well enough. She's filing for divorce and threatening to take the kids from me. I don't know what to do. I just took up drinking and gambling, the pain goes away at first but it always comes back. I don't think I can even afford to see a psychiatrist; money is tight as it always is. I wish I could manage my finances better... I just don't see any way out. I think the only thing I can do that makes sense is to just kill myself."
Dave pauses for a moment, thinks, and then he asks:
"Wouldn't it make more sense to kill her?"
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."
After 6 months of lockdown,
I was thinking a bit about Bin Laden. He stayed at home with 3 wives for 5 years. I'm beginning to suspect he called the Navy Seals himself.
Why did the pencil want to kill himself?
He had no point in life.
I told myself the other night after a long night at the bar that I should stop drinking.
But why should I listen to a drunk who talks to himself?
"Did you hear about the flasher who exposed himself to two elderly ladies in Central Park? One had a stroke. The other couldn’t quite reach."
Being unemployed is like watching our president fall over himself on the stairs.
There’s no hope.