BW30
Club Regular
- Joined
- Aug 24, 2019
Honey, I Want a Divorce
A few disclaimers first - This story features domestic abuse. There is a child in the story, but nothing bad happens to her, so don't worry about that. Also, I don't actually have a wife. in fact I'm not in a relationship at all. These characters are entirely fictional. This story was inspired by a random dream I had.
Now, enjoy the violence!
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I walked through the crowd at Disney World, holding my young daughter's hand. Her mother, my wife, was on the other side, holding her other hand. The three of us walked together, trying to find a restroom for our daughter.
I was in my early thirties, and my daughter was just nine. My wife was a couple years younger than me. She wore red crop top, along with a pair of small black yoga shorts, which had ridden up, showing everyone in the park her ass cheeks hanging out the back. She also wore a pair of flip flops that slapped loudly against her bare feet with every step. She still looked pretty good, considering she had a kid, and was married to me in a loveless marriage for almost a decade.
I had gotten her pregnant all those years ago, and marrying her felt like the right thing to do. I always wanted a family, I just didn't expect one so soon. Each day, the love for my daughter grew, while my love for my wife faded. It was clear she didn't love me at all anymore, and some days I wondered if she even loved our daughter.
I called my wife "Honey," not as a cute nick name, but because that's what everyone called her, mostly due to her golden hair. It certainly wasn't because she was sweet. She was anything but.
Honey had put on some weight over the years. I didn't mind. She was great to look at, though I haven't touched her in years. We still slept in the same bed, but we never talked, and we certainly didn't do anything else. She wasn't "fat," though I wouldn't have minded that either. She was simply "filled in." Basically, she looked like a mom. A good looking mom.
Her body may have been nice, but her face was stone cold and soulless. I don't know what it was that made her change, but it was clear that one day she decided she didn't love me anymore, and did very little to hide it, though we've never talked about it outright. Everything I did I did for my daughter. If it weren't for her, I would have divorced this empty, angry she-devil years ago.
"We've found it!" I exclaimed, seeing the restroom up ahead. One side was for women, the other for men. My daughter let go of our hands and ran inside, leaving me alone with my wife.
"Ugh," she sighed. "You know how much I fucking hate the heat."
"It's Florida, Honey. It's always hot here."
"Yeah, but it's extra hot today. I bet you knew today would be the hottest day, and that's why you made us come here today!"
"I bought the tickets months ago, what are you talking about?"
Great, she was in one of her nasty moods. Blaming me for the fucking weather.
Honey put her hands on her knees and bent over, letting out another huge sigh.
"Let's just go. It's too hot. It's not safe. What if our daughter dies of a heat stroke? What then?"
"She's fine, you're the one complaining! She hasn't complained once! Makes me wonder which one of you is the child and which one is the adult!"
What came next surprised me. My wife's hand landed heavily on my left cheek.
SMACK!
We had fought plenty of times over the last few years, but never has she put her hands on me like that. The smack was loud, and few people were looking our way.
Something inside of me finally snapped. I had had enough.
I grabbed my wife by the throat and dragged her into the men's restroom. Thankfully it was empty. I shoved her hard against the wall, then jammed my knee up into her belly.
"OOH!"
My wife let out an exhale of breath and she folded over my knee. I grabbed her throat again and straightened her out, slamming the back of her head against the wall. With my other hand, I balled it into a fist and started slamming it into my wife's face.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
After the fifth punch, I hear a pop come from her nose, and blood started rushing out.
"Guhhh... uhhhghh..."
My wife was dazed, her eyes delirious. I took a step back, brought both of my fists together, then swung them, slamming them into my wife's left cheek, MUCH harder than when she struck me. Her head snapped to the side as blood shot out of her mouth, then she slowly slid down against the wall until she landed on her ass, her legs spread wide. I took the opportunity to kick the bitch between her legs as hard as I could.
"GAAAUUUGHH!"
My wife's thick thighs clamped together and she fell over onto her side, clutching her crotch and sobbing.
"Get up!" I yelled as I grabbed onto her hair and forced her up onto her knees. Her teary eyes looked up at me. For a moment I saw the eyes of my wife, all those years ago, full of life, not empty like they've been for the last few years, but full of emotion. I had forgotten how beautiful my wife's face was...
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Ending 1: I almost felt bad when I violently twisted her head to the side, snapping her neck loudly. The cracking and popping sounds from her spine echoed through the restroom. I simply let her head go, and she fell forward, slamming her head into the floor, her ass jiggling as her body hit the ground. Blood pooled out from her mouth and nose.
"Honey, I want a divorce."
-----
Ending 2: My hand gripped my wife's face as I pulled her up to her feet. I brought her over towards the sinks, spun her around so she could see her face in the mirror, then shoved her face right into the mirror. My wife screamed as she saw her own face coming towards her, then CRASH! The mirror exploded into a million pieces, several of which were lodged into my wife's face. I pulled her head away from the broken mirror, and saw several large pieces impaled into her face, including one in her eye. Blood ran down her face and her body.
"Unngh.... gggghhhuhghhgh...."
My wife opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead she just let out a breathy noise. She never took in another breath. One rather long piece of mirror was jammed into her skull and pierced her brain. I let go of her and she crumbled to the floor in a bloody heap.
-----
Ending 3: I reached down, wrapping an arm underneath my wife's neck, while my other one went between her legs. With quite a bit of effort, I lifted her up off the ground, then slammed her back down over my knee.
CRACK!
My wife went limp with a heavy sigh, draped over my knee. Her belly was bare, stretched out right in front of me. I dropped a few fists down on it, with my last punch pushing deep into her stomach, grinding my fist and making my wife suffer. She groaned and cried, but was unable to remove herself from my knee. I noticed she wasn't moving her legs at all. I may have paralyzed her.
Good.
But that's not enough for me.
I gripped my wife's neck and thigh and started bending her even more. She was quite flexible back in the day, but those days were long gone. Her bones creaked and cracked as I bent her harshly over my knee, until finally, another loud POP!
My wife's body was bent as far as it would go. With my hand still over her neck, I felt her pulse fade away until there was nothing. I held her there for about thirty more seconds before shoving her off and leaving her dead body laying there on the floor of the Disney World restroom, broken and bent beyond repair.
-----
Ending 4: I grabbed my wife's golden hair and yanked hard, dragging her across the floor towards one of the stalls. Her arms and legs were flailing, but it didn't matter. I tossed her against the stall door and it flew open. Still gripping my wife's hair tightly, I shoved her face down into the toilet. I could hear her choking and gulping down water. Her arms were flailing all over, she almost hit my face several times. But I kept my grip firm. Eventually her arms slowed down, until they fell limply. Her whole body went limp as the last remaining bubbles rose to the surface of the water. Then silence.
I held my wife's head under the water for another full minute before I finally let go. Her body fell back with a wet flop, her eyes and mouth frozen open in shock.
-----
Ending 5: I grabbed onto my wife's ankle and dragged her across the floor, then swung her into a toilet stall. The door flew open. Her body wrapped itself around the base of the toilet. I followed her in and shut the stall door behind me. Seeing the hook used for hanging jackets on the stall door, I got an idea.
My wife let out a groan as I grabbed her arm and yanked her up to her feet. I spun her around, her head perilously close to the hook. I put one hand on her throat and another under one of her armpits. I lifted up, and basically choke slammed her onto the hook. The hook pierced her head, right where her spine meets her skull.
"GUUHHHHH!"
Her hands went up towards her head, her brain not processing what just happened. Then suddenly, like a light switch, she turned off. Her arms went limp and her hands slapped against her meaty thighs before they just hung there. Her feet dangled several inches off the ground, and her flip flops slid off one by one. Her eyes rolled up, and with a grunt, my wife was gone.
-----
Ending 6: While my wife was laying on the ground, I kicked her hard in her belly.
"OOF!"
My wife let out several coughs before my attention turned to footsteps from behind.
Mickey Mouse himself (or at least someone in costume) entered the restroom, and saw me standing over my wife. His large gloved hands went up to his face in shock, and he turned to escape, but I managed to grab onto his wrist and pull him in.
I threw Mickey Mouse down at my wife who was still laying on the ground. She had rolled onto her back and was staring up at the ceiling, when suddenly Mickey Mouse's gloved hand came down over her face. I stomped down on the gloved hand, forcing Mickey Mouse to hand smother my wife.
Both my wife and the costumed mouse struggled to get away, but my foot wasn't moving an inch. My wife's fists beat against my leg in protest. I hardly felt them. I could hear my wife's muffled screaming under the oversized glove, which turned into muffled choking. I could see her neck muscles straining as she tried to breath in air that didn't exist. Her legs were kicking wildly against the floor.
Mickey was also flailing quite a bit, but I wasn't too concerned with him.
My wife's hands gripped onto my leg tightly, and I could feel her strength fading. Finally, her hands fell from my leg and rested against the floor. Mickey's gloved hand smothered my wife for another two minutes before I felt enough time had passed. Finally I let up and Mickey Mouse scrambled up to his feet. He looked at his own hand in horror, then he slumped forward in shame. He left the restroom with his huge head hanging down. I knew he wouldn't tell on me. After all, technically speaking, he was the one that murdered my wife.
-----
Ending 7: I grabbed the back of my wife's neck and dragged her over to the sink, then I shoved her head forward. Her forehead slammed into the hard edge of the sink. Before she could fall back to the ground, I grabbed her hair and lifted her back up. My wife's mouth opened up, probably in an attempt to scream for help, but instead, I shoved her head forward towards the faucet over the sink. The faucet went into my wife's mouth, and I heard her gag. Taking a step back, I lifted my leg in the air, then push-kicked the back of her head, forcing her head forward, and the faucet down her throat. I could see her neck bulging and her eyes watering. I reached for the hot water knob and turned it on full blast. Searing hot water blasted out of the faucet, down my wife's throat. She gagged and choked loudly while my foot stayed on the back of her head. Hot water sputtered out of my wife's mouth, but most of it stayed inside, burning her insides. With a gurgling sound, my wife went totally limp. I removed my foot, but kept the water on. It continued blasting down my wife's throat while I left her there for someone else to find and deal with, but not before giving her ass a nice hard slap first. It jiggled for several seconds, long enough for me to take my leave before it stopped.
-----
True Ending: The moment my wife smacked my face, all these different outcomes ran through my mind as I thought about how to retaliate. I decided to do nothing. I said nothing... in fact, I pretended like it didn't happen. The day went on like normal, our daughter never knowing what happened.
After the trip, I went through the proper channels and filed for divorce. Thankfully, Disney World was about as public of a place as you can get. My wife slapping my face was caught on multiple cameras from multiple angles. That, combined with my wife's piss poor attitude through the whole proceedings, led me to gain custody of my daughter.
I would raise her alone, far away from my ex-wife. If she ever did anything to hurt me again, or hurt my daughter ever in any way, those violent thoughts I had that day at Disney World would come true.
A few disclaimers first - This story features domestic abuse. There is a child in the story, but nothing bad happens to her, so don't worry about that. Also, I don't actually have a wife. in fact I'm not in a relationship at all. These characters are entirely fictional. This story was inspired by a random dream I had.
Now, enjoy the violence!
----------
I walked through the crowd at Disney World, holding my young daughter's hand. Her mother, my wife, was on the other side, holding her other hand. The three of us walked together, trying to find a restroom for our daughter.
I was in my early thirties, and my daughter was just nine. My wife was a couple years younger than me. She wore red crop top, along with a pair of small black yoga shorts, which had ridden up, showing everyone in the park her ass cheeks hanging out the back. She also wore a pair of flip flops that slapped loudly against her bare feet with every step. She still looked pretty good, considering she had a kid, and was married to me in a loveless marriage for almost a decade.
I had gotten her pregnant all those years ago, and marrying her felt like the right thing to do. I always wanted a family, I just didn't expect one so soon. Each day, the love for my daughter grew, while my love for my wife faded. It was clear she didn't love me at all anymore, and some days I wondered if she even loved our daughter.
I called my wife "Honey," not as a cute nick name, but because that's what everyone called her, mostly due to her golden hair. It certainly wasn't because she was sweet. She was anything but.
Honey had put on some weight over the years. I didn't mind. She was great to look at, though I haven't touched her in years. We still slept in the same bed, but we never talked, and we certainly didn't do anything else. She wasn't "fat," though I wouldn't have minded that either. She was simply "filled in." Basically, she looked like a mom. A good looking mom.
Her body may have been nice, but her face was stone cold and soulless. I don't know what it was that made her change, but it was clear that one day she decided she didn't love me anymore, and did very little to hide it, though we've never talked about it outright. Everything I did I did for my daughter. If it weren't for her, I would have divorced this empty, angry she-devil years ago.
"We've found it!" I exclaimed, seeing the restroom up ahead. One side was for women, the other for men. My daughter let go of our hands and ran inside, leaving me alone with my wife.
"Ugh," she sighed. "You know how much I fucking hate the heat."
"It's Florida, Honey. It's always hot here."
"Yeah, but it's extra hot today. I bet you knew today would be the hottest day, and that's why you made us come here today!"
"I bought the tickets months ago, what are you talking about?"
Great, she was in one of her nasty moods. Blaming me for the fucking weather.
Honey put her hands on her knees and bent over, letting out another huge sigh.
"Let's just go. It's too hot. It's not safe. What if our daughter dies of a heat stroke? What then?"
"She's fine, you're the one complaining! She hasn't complained once! Makes me wonder which one of you is the child and which one is the adult!"
What came next surprised me. My wife's hand landed heavily on my left cheek.
SMACK!
We had fought plenty of times over the last few years, but never has she put her hands on me like that. The smack was loud, and few people were looking our way.
Something inside of me finally snapped. I had had enough.
I grabbed my wife by the throat and dragged her into the men's restroom. Thankfully it was empty. I shoved her hard against the wall, then jammed my knee up into her belly.
"OOH!"
My wife let out an exhale of breath and she folded over my knee. I grabbed her throat again and straightened her out, slamming the back of her head against the wall. With my other hand, I balled it into a fist and started slamming it into my wife's face.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
After the fifth punch, I hear a pop come from her nose, and blood started rushing out.
"Guhhh... uhhhghh..."
My wife was dazed, her eyes delirious. I took a step back, brought both of my fists together, then swung them, slamming them into my wife's left cheek, MUCH harder than when she struck me. Her head snapped to the side as blood shot out of her mouth, then she slowly slid down against the wall until she landed on her ass, her legs spread wide. I took the opportunity to kick the bitch between her legs as hard as I could.
"GAAAUUUGHH!"
My wife's thick thighs clamped together and she fell over onto her side, clutching her crotch and sobbing.
"Get up!" I yelled as I grabbed onto her hair and forced her up onto her knees. Her teary eyes looked up at me. For a moment I saw the eyes of my wife, all those years ago, full of life, not empty like they've been for the last few years, but full of emotion. I had forgotten how beautiful my wife's face was...
-----
Ending 1: I almost felt bad when I violently twisted her head to the side, snapping her neck loudly. The cracking and popping sounds from her spine echoed through the restroom. I simply let her head go, and she fell forward, slamming her head into the floor, her ass jiggling as her body hit the ground. Blood pooled out from her mouth and nose.
"Honey, I want a divorce."
-----
Ending 2: My hand gripped my wife's face as I pulled her up to her feet. I brought her over towards the sinks, spun her around so she could see her face in the mirror, then shoved her face right into the mirror. My wife screamed as she saw her own face coming towards her, then CRASH! The mirror exploded into a million pieces, several of which were lodged into my wife's face. I pulled her head away from the broken mirror, and saw several large pieces impaled into her face, including one in her eye. Blood ran down her face and her body.
"Unngh.... gggghhhuhghhgh...."
My wife opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead she just let out a breathy noise. She never took in another breath. One rather long piece of mirror was jammed into her skull and pierced her brain. I let go of her and she crumbled to the floor in a bloody heap.
-----
Ending 3: I reached down, wrapping an arm underneath my wife's neck, while my other one went between her legs. With quite a bit of effort, I lifted her up off the ground, then slammed her back down over my knee.
CRACK!
My wife went limp with a heavy sigh, draped over my knee. Her belly was bare, stretched out right in front of me. I dropped a few fists down on it, with my last punch pushing deep into her stomach, grinding my fist and making my wife suffer. She groaned and cried, but was unable to remove herself from my knee. I noticed she wasn't moving her legs at all. I may have paralyzed her.
Good.
But that's not enough for me.
I gripped my wife's neck and thigh and started bending her even more. She was quite flexible back in the day, but those days were long gone. Her bones creaked and cracked as I bent her harshly over my knee, until finally, another loud POP!
My wife's body was bent as far as it would go. With my hand still over her neck, I felt her pulse fade away until there was nothing. I held her there for about thirty more seconds before shoving her off and leaving her dead body laying there on the floor of the Disney World restroom, broken and bent beyond repair.
-----
Ending 4: I grabbed my wife's golden hair and yanked hard, dragging her across the floor towards one of the stalls. Her arms and legs were flailing, but it didn't matter. I tossed her against the stall door and it flew open. Still gripping my wife's hair tightly, I shoved her face down into the toilet. I could hear her choking and gulping down water. Her arms were flailing all over, she almost hit my face several times. But I kept my grip firm. Eventually her arms slowed down, until they fell limply. Her whole body went limp as the last remaining bubbles rose to the surface of the water. Then silence.
I held my wife's head under the water for another full minute before I finally let go. Her body fell back with a wet flop, her eyes and mouth frozen open in shock.
-----
Ending 5: I grabbed onto my wife's ankle and dragged her across the floor, then swung her into a toilet stall. The door flew open. Her body wrapped itself around the base of the toilet. I followed her in and shut the stall door behind me. Seeing the hook used for hanging jackets on the stall door, I got an idea.
My wife let out a groan as I grabbed her arm and yanked her up to her feet. I spun her around, her head perilously close to the hook. I put one hand on her throat and another under one of her armpits. I lifted up, and basically choke slammed her onto the hook. The hook pierced her head, right where her spine meets her skull.
"GUUHHHHH!"
Her hands went up towards her head, her brain not processing what just happened. Then suddenly, like a light switch, she turned off. Her arms went limp and her hands slapped against her meaty thighs before they just hung there. Her feet dangled several inches off the ground, and her flip flops slid off one by one. Her eyes rolled up, and with a grunt, my wife was gone.
-----
Ending 6: While my wife was laying on the ground, I kicked her hard in her belly.
"OOF!"
My wife let out several coughs before my attention turned to footsteps from behind.
Mickey Mouse himself (or at least someone in costume) entered the restroom, and saw me standing over my wife. His large gloved hands went up to his face in shock, and he turned to escape, but I managed to grab onto his wrist and pull him in.
I threw Mickey Mouse down at my wife who was still laying on the ground. She had rolled onto her back and was staring up at the ceiling, when suddenly Mickey Mouse's gloved hand came down over her face. I stomped down on the gloved hand, forcing Mickey Mouse to hand smother my wife.
Both my wife and the costumed mouse struggled to get away, but my foot wasn't moving an inch. My wife's fists beat against my leg in protest. I hardly felt them. I could hear my wife's muffled screaming under the oversized glove, which turned into muffled choking. I could see her neck muscles straining as she tried to breath in air that didn't exist. Her legs were kicking wildly against the floor.
Mickey was also flailing quite a bit, but I wasn't too concerned with him.
My wife's hands gripped onto my leg tightly, and I could feel her strength fading. Finally, her hands fell from my leg and rested against the floor. Mickey's gloved hand smothered my wife for another two minutes before I felt enough time had passed. Finally I let up and Mickey Mouse scrambled up to his feet. He looked at his own hand in horror, then he slumped forward in shame. He left the restroom with his huge head hanging down. I knew he wouldn't tell on me. After all, technically speaking, he was the one that murdered my wife.
-----
Ending 7: I grabbed the back of my wife's neck and dragged her over to the sink, then I shoved her head forward. Her forehead slammed into the hard edge of the sink. Before she could fall back to the ground, I grabbed her hair and lifted her back up. My wife's mouth opened up, probably in an attempt to scream for help, but instead, I shoved her head forward towards the faucet over the sink. The faucet went into my wife's mouth, and I heard her gag. Taking a step back, I lifted my leg in the air, then push-kicked the back of her head, forcing her head forward, and the faucet down her throat. I could see her neck bulging and her eyes watering. I reached for the hot water knob and turned it on full blast. Searing hot water blasted out of the faucet, down my wife's throat. She gagged and choked loudly while my foot stayed on the back of her head. Hot water sputtered out of my wife's mouth, but most of it stayed inside, burning her insides. With a gurgling sound, my wife went totally limp. I removed my foot, but kept the water on. It continued blasting down my wife's throat while I left her there for someone else to find and deal with, but not before giving her ass a nice hard slap first. It jiggled for several seconds, long enough for me to take my leave before it stopped.
-----
True Ending: The moment my wife smacked my face, all these different outcomes ran through my mind as I thought about how to retaliate. I decided to do nothing. I said nothing... in fact, I pretended like it didn't happen. The day went on like normal, our daughter never knowing what happened.
After the trip, I went through the proper channels and filed for divorce. Thankfully, Disney World was about as public of a place as you can get. My wife slapping my face was caught on multiple cameras from multiple angles. That, combined with my wife's piss poor attitude through the whole proceedings, led me to gain custody of my daughter.
I would raise her alone, far away from my ex-wife. If she ever did anything to hurt me again, or hurt my daughter ever in any way, those violent thoughts I had that day at Disney World would come true.
