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Review This Story || Author: Waldo Slaughter

Better Than Divorce

Part 1

Better Than Divorce

by Waldo Slaughter

(Authors Note: This story is fictional, I have not done these dastardly acts to
anyone. This story was originally written as the first part of a group writing
exercise at a different site, but nobody came forward to complete it. Perhaps I
will, or perhaps I will simply let the reader come to his or her own conclusions
regarding the "final" chapter.)

Better Than Divorce

by Waldo Slaughter

Lydia and I had been married for almost twenty years. Our boys were grown and
had gone to college and I had been waiting for that to happen before I left. I
had grown quite tired of the bitch, you see she had basically fucked my life up.
She had been so damn beautiful when we were young and in fact she still was.
Most guys around our small town would have given their left nut to have a chance
with her. The problem was, she was the bitchiest and most disagreeable woman I
ever met. It didn't matter what I wanted to do, she had to find something wrong
with it.

Of course our sex was good. When we had it. She was as quirky sexually as she
was bitchy otherwise. There was a period just after her period that she was
totally ravenous for sex and I could barely keep up with her. But after that
five or six day run, I could pretty well take to the hand until her next period
came and went and the next sex period started. But damn was that six day a month
run fun. I always tried to schedule my work so I'd be home those nights and make
sure to ok the kids being gone to some friends house as many of them as
possible.

I know that this sounds like heaven to a lot of guys, but I wanted more. I
wanted that beautiful and hot babe to fuck me when I wanted it, not just when
she did. And I wanted her to lay the fuck off sometimes. Whenever she'd not be
ragging on me about my failures, she'd be out doing something she knew would
piss me off. She started getting tattoos and cut her beautiful blonde hair so
short that she looked like a fucking dyke.

Lydia was about five foot five, with massive and yet surprisingly firm tits and
a very sexy face and voice. I loved her ass and her legs too, in fact there was
no other woman I'd rather have seen naked or fucked myself than Lydia. That is,
until Dawn moved to town and offered me the like that Lydia was not capable or
willing of giving me.

So I left. Lydia was depressed and hurt and because she'd had some anxiety
problems in the past, went back on Xanax and some other prescriptions for
awhile. Donny, our oldest, quit college and moved back home to make sure his
mother was alright. Another reason for me to hate her more and more. But the
biggest was our property. We had built up a nice little piece of the pie as I
had worked hard and made good money and Lydia had been both frugal and energetic
in her own right, working nights a long time as a waitress and barmaid. She made
good money, especially in the bar because she would flirt with the guys big
time. It pissed me off a lot and in fact probably led to our difficulties too.
She would flirt with them but then when she got home wouldn't have time or
energy for me. I'd stay up late a lot of the time even though my job caused me
to get up early. I figured hell, if I can stay up late special for some romance,
the bitch should be able to put out, right?

Anyway, she gets this brainstorm that she deserves all of the property because I
left her for another woman. Her fucking lawyer won't let this thing go to trial
and I don't have the money to fight it out forever. I started calling and
arguing with Lydia and that's turned out to be the best thing I could have ever
done because it sent her back to the doctor and he sent her back to the
pharmacist and the pharmacist sent her right into my waiting hands!

Giving her a new prescription for Xanax, the doctor told her that she needed to
not stay on the phone arguing with me but to take one and go to bed. Xanax will
help with anxiety and also induce sleep. I knew that Lydia liked to drink a wine
cooler or two in the evening as well and the combination would literally knock
her out. She had done it when we had been together and she had been on them. I
had casually mentioned one time that I needed to know when she was on the drugs
to help me in my divorce and my friend Jack, the pharmacist, called me to tell
me of the new prescription. I swallowed and began to plan.

I had never killed or even hurt anybody before and didn't really want to have
some major fight or confrontation with Lydia. Still, knowing that she'd be
incapacitated made the possibility too great to ignore. And to make matters even
better, I knew that Donny had a hot date on Saturday night and I knew that my
house; the one Lydia was trying to steal from me; was very secluded and no
neighbors were around. It was too easy. All I had to do was decide what exactly
to do with her.

Saturday came and I paced and I pondered and I considered many options. My goal
was to simply kill her in a manner that would not bring any suspicion my way.
But the more I thought about her and the way I'd been treated all those years
the madder I got and the hotter I got. Thinking about that hot body, still, and
having her helpless and at my total mercy and control made me start to think
that killing her might not be the best thing to do. At least not right away.

As I drove toward the house a little after midnight, I dialed her number into my
cell phone and pressed call. After several rings, the answering machine picked
up. I knew she had already knocked herself out and I tried to not speed as I
headed in her direction.

It never occurred to her to change the locks, so I still have a key. I let
myself in the back door after parking my car where it was obscured from view. I
softly called out her name and then heart the sound I had been hoping to hear;
the gentle sound of snoring. I followed it and found her out cold on the couch;
a half emptied bottle of some kind of berry flavored wine cooler on the table
next to her.

I watched her for a moment and felt my cock spring to life. I wanted to fuck her
right then and there. Her hair was a little longer than it had been. Apparently
she was letting it grow back again. Donny told me she had started seeing some
guy and now was getting sexy again. She was still dressed in a short denim dress
that she had put on after work, no doubt. It was a sort of sleeveless thing that
had wide straps over her shoulders. As she lay kind of sideways on the sofa, I
could see the full outline of her wonderful breasts as they pressed against the
blue denim material. The rise and fall of them caused my mouth to go dry.

I looked also and saw that she was barefoot. Some beach type sandals were there
at the edge of the couch and she had one foot kind of tucked under her and the
other leg outstretched on the couch. I saw that her toenails were painted a kind
of burgundy. I felt the smoothness of her sole and smiled slightly. Her size 8's
were definitely being cared for too, she was probably in love. She had quit
taking any pride in her appearance for me a long time ago and I had never seen
her paint her nails before. I kind of liked it. I also liked the idea that she
had started a new life and I was going to ruin it!

It was a tough decision I had made. I could have done many things right there
and not had any risk factor. I thought about disabling the smoke alarm and
setting the place on fire. Lydia smoked and it would have been easy to drop a
burning cigarette into the sofa and walk away when I was sure the smoke would
kill her. I also considered filling her tub with water and stripping her naked
and setting her in it and drowning her. Both accidents would be believable with
her having mixed alcohol with her prescription drug.

Hell, even ransacking the place and stabbing her or strangling her had
potential, but after seeing her again; and especially seeing that she was as
beautiful or more so than ever, I wanted to take her to the secluded motel room
I had rented a hundred miles away and I wanted to rape her and kill her there.

I carried her to the van I had acquired with a phony credit card. It was white
and non descript. I had a couple of blankets laid out on the floor and I put her
down more gently than she deserved and closed the door. During the time I had
spent lifting her and positioning her in my arms and then depositing her in the
vehicle, she had never stirred. I wished I knew when she had passed out, but I
was pretty sure I had time to do what I wanted to do.

I returned to the house quickly and I grabbed her purse and checked and sure
enough, the bottle of pills was there. I tossed her shoes and purse into the van
and then climbed into the drivers seat.

I started the engine and pulled slowly from the driveway. I glanced occasionally
in the rearview mirror and watched as Lydia's breasts jostled beneath the
fabric. She obviously was wearing no bra and if I knew her she might be
panty-less too. Her hair had blown slightly across her face and moved with each
breath she took.

There was an abandoned service station a few miles from town and I pulled the
vehicle into the lot and behind the building. Quickly I pulled some a roll of
duct tape I had put in the van earlier and pulled off a length to wrap Lydia's
ankles together. I rolled her onto her stomach and folded her arms behind her
and bound her ankles the same way. Rolling her back onto her back I wrapped her
around the knees tightly and added a swatch across her sexy mouth. Now I was
safe in case she woke up before I got her to our destination, the small and
decrepit old motel now less than a hundred miles away.

Driving with a raging hard-on is not a lot of fun but then it is it's own
stimulation. I kept glancing at the package I had in the back. At one point I
hit a dip and I thought she might wake up, but it became obvious that she might
have even taken two pills along with her drink. I thought that she might even
sleep through her own rape and murder. In fact, I was beginning to hope she
would! I decided that she didn't deserve to see how hot she still made me!

After what seemed forever I pulled into the parking lot of the motel. It was
nearly three in the morning and everybody was asleep. All the rooms were dark
except for the flicker of a forgotten television in visible through the curtains
of a couple. I opened the door to the room and left the lights off. I then
quickly and quietly pulled Lydia from the van and carried her as quickly as I
could into the dark room and tossed her on the bed. I went for her shoes and her
purse and returned and locked the door behind me.

When I flicked on the lights, Lydia started to stir. Too little and too late
baby, I thought. Still, I realized that I not only liked having her unconscious
and helpless, but that if I let her wake up she might make some noise and wake
my neighbors. So I fished in her purse for the bottle and pulled two more pills
out. I pulled the tape quickly off her mouth which caused her eyes to flicker
open, but there was no comprehension behind them. I tilted her head back and
pushed the pills into her throat and she began to cough slightly. I wasn't
worried about her overdosing, hell; I was going to kill her anyway. I went to
the bathroom and got a glass of water and held it to her lips. She sipped some
and swallowed and I saw reason beginning to return to her.

I put the tape back across her mouth and watched as she started to squirm on the
bed.

"Yeah baby", I said, "You've had a little nap. And I think you're about to have
a longer one. A forever one."

I saw anger and fear both but I also saw resignation. She knew I'd just shoved
more pills down her and she knew that she would be out and helpless soon again.
Still, she would try to escape. If for no other reason than to deny me my desire
one more time. But all I had to do was wait and try to keep her from escaping.
The tape on her legs and wrists was pretty strong and even though she pulled a
lot at first, it held. Gradually over the next ten minutes or so she began to
slow down until she stopped moving altogether. I saw her eyes lose their fear
and hatred and anger and begin to cloud over and then they closed and Lydia was
unconscious again.

End Part One



Review This Story || Author: Waldo Slaughter
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