How to Divorce your Junkie Wife from Prison

“Bring her to me.”


“Bring me that drug addicted, whore wife of mine. I want to strangle her, till she dies here in my arms on this prison floor. Why the fuck isn’t she picking up? Where the fuck is she? It’s been three weeks!”

“Dude, after she got the papers, she disappeared. No one knows where she is. She took a leave of absence at work. She doesn’t live in the apartment anymore. I’ve looked for her man. Last thing she said was that if you think she’s going to sign the divorce papers, you’re crazy.”

“Find her. Bring her to me. I want her here Saturday. I don’t care what you have to do. Just make sure she is sitting here across from me at 9:00am.”

The elevator opens. She steps out carefully, trying to balance in her stilettos, as she slinks down the hall, carrying an oversized bag. She wipes her nose on her jacket sleeve and rummages through her purse to find her keys. She puts the key into the keyhole and turns the knob. The door opens and exposes a dark apartment. She throws her keys, her bag, and coat on the floor. She kicks her heels off and walks down the hall towards the light switch.

The light switch doesn’t work.

“That’s odd.”

A bit of panic comes over her, and she finds her way to the lamp in the corner. She puts the electrical cord into the wall and nothing happens. She bends over and upward to look and see what happened to the light bulb when she hears a lighter spark from the opposite corner of the apartment. She turns around, eyes wide with fear and tries to make out the dark face, sitting in the chair across the room. He puts the lighter to the wick of a flare. The flare fires up and the room has come to light. Through the reddish hue, she sees Andy, sitting with a gun pointed at her. The flare is violently spitting bits of fire off into the apartment. Before he can say anything, she drops to her knees, crying.

“Andy, I promise, my phone. It died.” She stumbles. “I didn’t have money for the phone. Is He okay? What’s…what’s up?”

“Where’ve you been, Kate? It’s been three weeks. You know he wanted you to sign those divorce papers like yesterday. You’re in so much trouble.”

“Please, why are you here? Stay away from me.”

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a vile of cocaine. Trying to regain control of the situation, she scoops

pile in her fingernail and puts it up her nose, real quick.

“I’m taking you to him. You guys can sort it out.”


“You’re going to see him tomorrow”

“No, I’m fucking not”

Andy gets up and walks over to her. He points the gun down onto her forehead.

“He wants to see you, so you are going to see him. I am going to sit here all night, while you sleep and when you sober the fuck up, I’m going to take you to see your husband in prison. If you fucking try anything, I have his permission to beat the fuck out of you, and don’t think I won’t do it.”

The drive was silent, besides the sound of her sobs. They pull up to the prison. Andy gets out of the car. She locks the car doors. He rolls his eyes and walks over to the passenger side of the car. He unlocks the car with the automatic lock. She locks it again. They play this game for a few minutes, until Andy gets pissed. He gets the car door open and physically removes her from the car. He grabs her hand tightly and forces her up the hill to the entry of the prison gates.

“Hi, I’m here against my will…” Andy digs his fingers into her back and twists. “Ouch, I mean, I’m here to see Singletary in CF3.”


“Kathryn Singletary”

She moves aside so Andy can check in. Instead, Andy pats her on the back and smiles.

“It’s all you, kid”


The CO instructs her to go through the door on the right. The alarm sounds and door opens. She sees a long, outdoor ramp to the visiting unit. The ramp is covered wall to wall by a tall gate that had high voltage wires. She turns back to see Andy waving and smiling. What a dick. The long path leads her to the visiting unit, where the dogs run past her three times to get her scent. She enters the large visitation area, where there were fifty inmates visiting with family and friends. She sees him. He was sitting in the center of the room. She nervously walks down the line of chairs to get closer to the middle. She was walking slow and cautiously. He waves her over calmly, as if to say, you’re fucked, just assume your fate and get over here. She sits down next to him.

“Sit the fuck across from me”

She moves to the chair across from him. He notices her red lace panties as she sits down in the seat.

She doesn’t realize that she is sitting with her legs slightly spread. She folds her head into her hands and begins to cry.

“I’ve been calling you…”

“I know. The phone. I…money…I just. My phone broke.”

“You think because I’m in here I can’t hurt you?”

“Why would you ever want to hurt me?”

“Why?…why?…(imitating her voice). You’re a fucking mess and you think you can dodge me? You don’t think I paid off these guards right here, surrounding us, to block the cameras when I say to? You run around the streets acting like a little junkie whore, spending our money, embarrassing me in front of my friends and you still want me to call you my wife? You’re fucking disgusting. I feel like I’m talking to a retarded person. Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

She looks up with mascara tears running down her cheeks. He looks her up and down. The roots of her blonde hair had grown out, her nail polish was chipped, and she looked very thin. He could see her pussy lips through her sheer panties. She can’t stop itching her nose.

“Why won’t you sign the papers? Just sign the fucking papers and this is all over.”

Her tears quickly change to a fit of rage.


He leans over the table, feigning as if to caress her cheek. She leans in for his affection. As their faces meet, he grabs her by the hair and pulls her head downward so that he can whisper in her ear.

“I will fucking kill you myself. Sign the god damn papers.”

He let go of her with force.

“Baby, I love you. I’m sorry. I swear. I’m not doing any drugs.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, I promise. Don’t you love me anymore? We can work through this. We don’t need a divorce.”

“Really. You want me to love you?”


“You sure?”


“Okay, come sit right here…” he points to his lap.

She slowly moves the chair out of the way and sits down on his lap. Before she could finish saying, “I knew you still loved me”, he had grabbed onto her red lace thong and ripped it down to her knees. He pulled out his cock from his jumpsuit and lifts up the back of her skirt. Positioning her directly onto his cock, he pulls her body close to him. He whispers in her ear.

“Is this what you missed?”


“Does this make you feel loved?” he grabs her by the waist and slams her body up and down on his dick.

“Oh daddy!”

“How many guys?”


“How many fucking guys have been in here? Tell me right fucking now.”

“I swear, no one. I love you.”

“Lying cunt. Tell me you’re a little cum slut. You sleep, eat, drink, live for cum…say it.” He starts rubbing her asshole with his thumb as he fucks her pussy raw and hard with no remorse or emotion.

“I’m you’re little cum slut.” She screams.

“Haha, oh no, you’re not. I said you’re “a” cum slut, but you’re definitely not “my” cum slut. You wanna cum for me baby?”

“Yea…” she gasps, gyrating on top of his big, long cock.

“You love this cock, Mrs. Singletary?”

“Yes, baby. Oh god! It feels good to hear you say my name.”

“Oh…that’s too bad, cause I’m about to blow a load all over your back and you’re never going to see me again.” before he could say anything more, he was cumming inside of her. He pulls out his dick and wipes the cum residue on the back of her skirt. She slides her panties up and moves to the chair next to him.

“See, Singletary. You do still love me. Who else can get you off like that?”

She stands up feeling completely degraded. Cum dripping out of her pussy, staining her panties and trickling down her leg.

“Sign the papers.” He gets up and asks the CO to escort him back to his cell.

He walks away without looking back.

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