Short Stories True Crime Novels & Stories

His gray eyes were darker than I had ever seen them, pupils blown wide and locked on me like he could see every filthy thought racing through my head. His jaw was tight, the muscle jumping there, and I could see the front of his slacks tenting out obviously, the thick outline of his cock pressing against the fabric and making my mouth go dry all over again. “Tell me the truth,” he said, voice steady but commanding in a way that made my knees feel even weaker. “Does getting your ass smacked make your cunt wet?” I bit my lip hard enough to feel the sting. “Yes,” I breathed, the word barely audible.

At first, I thought she was timid and would probably get her petite self eaten in that classroom full of hungry sharks, but she proved herself and she proved me wrong. "Before I begin, I'd like to ask a question. Debby, when you hear the tale of Dordin, what do you think of?" Oh, no! She didn't. "Um, Tyler Durden?" The class burst into laughter. "What's that?" Mrs. Grassroots asked, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "It's not a what, it's a who." I corrected, not having any of their ignorance. "Boooooooo," "You maggots seriously haven't seen the narrator movie or Pursuit of Happiness, even Fight Club 3?" I asked, surprised at their lack of ‘knowledge’.

"News report, a new victim found dead again and according to the polices it's related to the past killings. She was identified as Tiffany Reyes, a twenty-three-year-old woman. The woman's wounds are still fresh and just like last time, the killer is still unknown. The polices still doesn't have any clue for who did this.........Natalie, reporting. That woman is familiar to me, where did I heard her name again?...... Right! Drake's secretary's name is also Tiffany Reyes. No way, is it just a coincidence in names? Wait, it's suddenly quiet. I looked at the two and they are currently looking at the news while smiling. Are they happy to see someone that just died? They even made fun of her last

He moves so fast I cannot even remember the faces of people I speak to. “Please,” I ask him “Slow down.” My feet ache and my muscles are sore. I have long since dropped the flowers on some random table, hoping silently they would burn and take the building and everyone in it. My fingers grasp onto a glass and I gulp down water quickly, my throat parched from flimsy small talk. The wedding will be in the papers. I can see the headline now- Two Crime Families Put Aside Differences; I knew the papers would sell quickly. Crime sold. I would know. My name had been in the papers since the day I was born thanks to my father. New York would tremble underneath me if I wanted it to. I dripped in cashm

So, I curl up in my bed with a true crime podcast coming out of my earbuds as I pick up the current thriller book I’m reading. Since I have such a quiet and sweet nature thanks to being an empathic soul, most people would never guess my guilty pleasure is true crime, horror, and thriller. Horror was something my childhood friend Shane was into and I ended up finding my own entertainment in the scary things that most kids our age peeing their pants. Thriller came as a natural progression from horror as I was looking for other genres of books to read. When I started reading outside of what the school system required, I started with horror books. True crime, well, that was becoming of Shane too

He insisted I crouch by the door to listen to their voices. "On October 6th was Xavier's birthday. I summoned the courage to tell him the truth, but he said he would only listen if I finished all the cream on the cake on the table. He knew I was allergic to cream and couldn't eat any." ... The notebook contained records of events from nearly four years. With every page I read, my body temperature dropped, and countless images flashed through my mind, like someone stabbing me with a knife, causing excruciating pain. It was him, the man I dreamed about, Xavier Quinn.

Well, I can't fuck myself, someone has to do the fucking" I replied. He chuckled. I returned to his cock, sucking like a slut in heat. I made sexual sounds to excite him; years of watching p**n and reading erotic stories had taught me that men love hearing erotic moans from women, even if they are just for effect, not because my pussy is actually getting stimulated. The New York best selling romantic novels were my best companions during my college days.

Shaun's P.O.V. I just transferred from the Jacksonville, Mississippi, police department to the small town of Randelman two days ago. That's the story everyone believes, anyway. The truth is I work for the FBI, and I'm here investigating the possibility of an underground sex trafficking ring. People believe things like this only happen in big cities, but they actually happen everywhere. With this town being so small, I figured getting a job on the force would be best so I wouldn't get as much attention.

‘Just tell me where you got the money from and I promise that I’ll strip search you again. The hooker longed to tell her everything. After all, the first time that she’d laid her eyes on Susan Phillips, her pussy hadn’t stopped tingling for days. It had been lust at first sight, and she’d been lusting after her ever since. Lucy might have known that Susan was too damn sexy for her to resist for very long. But although she longed to submit to the gorgeous lesbian detective, the hooker was too scared of her new boss to even dare to breathe a word.

“He’s a football player. She’s too small to murder him.” I shrugged. “There’s lots of ways to kill people.” He furrowed his brow at me. “Why do you know that?” I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m a writer. I sometimes research true crime stories for inspiration on ways to kill off characters.” Kamron stopped walking, and ended up pulling my arm a little. “Seriously?” “Some people are worried others will find porn in their search history,” I shrugged. “My dirty history is full of murder.”