Crime Stories Short Novels & Stories

That's how some time passed, maybe two months, Miriam lived her normal life during the day, but when she got home, she missed him, she cried, she couldn't forget him, one of those days Lu arrived very early, she went in and woke her up. -Wake up, wake up. -What's wrong, what's wrong? -Nothing, that the unhappy man left you for another one, look, look, he cheated on you, the unhappy man cheated on you. And he gives her the newspaper that in the social section and in half page, announced the marriage next Sunday of the prestigious university professor, with the society lady and daughter of a successful businessman, Miriam sees it and reads it, she tears the newspaper as if that would break all

"How could you even think that about me? Yeah, I survived, but I was a victim, too. And now, just because of one photo, you're calling me a killer? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" I swallowed hard, my voice breaking. "I said I probably fell asleep around 10 PM. I never said I was sure. My head was spinning from the altitude, and I wasn't clear. And come on—I'm just one woman. How the heck could I take out five grown men?" Alex's stare locked onto my face. "Yeah… doesn't seem likely." Just then, the coroner walked in with a fresh report, the pages still smelling like ink. He handed it straight to Alex.

“I love how you don’t stop until I’m too loud to care.” Daniel kissed me slow and deep, still buried inside me. Outside, the afternoon light was starting to soften. We still had hours before Claire came home. I already knew my voice would be wrecked by the time she did. I couldn’t wait. Wondering how it all started, well hear me out! I knew exactly what I was doing every time I put on one of those dresses. The short ones. Soft cotton that stopped halfway down my thighs. The yellow, the pale green, the white with the tiny flowers.

“By the rules, Blue. You need to report this to the police. Hindi naman magiging hit and run ang kaso mo kung mase-settled n’yo ‘to at hindi siya magko-complain. May napansin pa ako. Hindi man ako detective but I can tell na ang mga pasa niya sa katawan ay hindi bago. I think she’s a victim of an abuse. Hindi natin puwedeng pabayaan na lang siya lalo na kung may banta sa kaligtasan niya.” “Excuse me, Doc. I need to make some calls,” paalam ni CJ sa dalawa at nagsimulang makipag-usap sa kabilang linya pagkalabas ng pinto. “Kailan babalik ang alaala niya, Doc? Maso-solve ang mess na ‘to kapag bumalik ang memories niya.” “Days, weeks or months. I don’t know. ” “Oh My! This is the day of my life

Juliette had heard these horror stories from the previous receptionist. As she got closer to the door, she heard a thud as if he had thrown his shoe at the wall. He threw things, but most often his shoes, she’d learned. She bit her lip at the thought that at least it wasn’t an employee’s head. In the brief silence that followed the thud, she slowly opened the door to his office. He was still on the phone and beckoned her to enter. She shut the door behind her and began to lay out the lunch that she had brought on the long table mostly covered in papers by his desk.

Story Note: “Room for One More” is a standalone short from my erotic collectiona mix of intense, sensual, and sometimes forbidden stories that explore the raw edges of desire. Each story introduces new characters, new fantasies, and unapologetically explicit encounters. This particular tale features a taboo dynamic between step-siblings, told with heat, dominance, and no holding back. Reader discretion is advised. *************************************************

It helps me relieve some stress, so sometimes I come home late on purpose just so my dinner will be cold. Now how the fuck am I going to get these chains off? The man who did this to me will be dead, and the other one who broke my nose will follow right behind him. I would scream if I could, but the asshole put a gag in my mouth. They're going to pay. All of them are going to regret it when I'm done with them. _______________ Krystal's P.O.V.

Sarah had texted Daniel an hour earlier: “Pick up milk, bread, and whatever else we need. Ethan’s tagging along—he needs stuff for his new apartment.” That was the official story. The real story started three months ago in the guest bedroom after too much wine at Sarah’s birthday dinner. A late-night kitchen raid turned into hands under shirts, mouths crashing together in the dark pantry while Sarah slept upstairs. Since then it had been stolen moments—quick handjobs in the garage, blowjobs in Ethan’s car in the driveway, once even a frantic fuck on the laundry room floor while Sarah was at yoga. Never enough. Never safe. Always hungry.

He swung one long leg over the bike and walked toward me through the downpour, with water streaming off his black leather jacket and helmet. My heart pounded so hard that I could even feel it in my throat. I began to remember every horror story I had heard about strangers on dark roads, wondering if I was about to meet some kind of horrific fate. What if he was a serial killer? Were they going to find my body on the highway? Or probably in some water filled ditch after weeks of searching? Despite the fear and the haunting thoughts, I rolled the window just enough to hear him over the rain.

“I don’t want to stop touching you like this. Not for them. Not for anyone.” Maya’s thumb moved in a slow circle against Lila’s skin. “Same.” They had started the account eight months ago. At first it was just photos—matching lingerie, close-ups of hands on thighs, the kind of soft stuff that paid the rent. Then the messages started asking for more. Videos. The two of them together. Real sex. Lila had been the one to say yes first. Maya had taken three days to answer. Now they filmed twice a week. Full scenes. Nothing held back. Subscribers paid monthly to watch the twins who looked exactly alike fuck each other on camera. No one in their real life knew. Not their parents. Not their friends