Caution: This Suspense Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Cheating, Sadistic,
Desc: Suspense Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Not all tricks receive treats. A Who did it story.
'It was a dark and stormy night.' It seems when I was a kid, every scary story started out with those words. I've had a lot of nights start out like that in my life. I'm John Wayne and I'm a cop; I've been one for fifteen years. I know people laugh when they hear my name, but there's not much I can do about it.
I've worked out of a few of the Detroit precincts. The worst has always been on the night shift in the downtown areas. During the day it's business people hustling from one business to another. Crowds of people around Cobo Hall or the Renaissance Center. Down around the Penobscot Building it was business people all doing their thing.
At dark everything changes. Within just a few blocks of Downtown is some of the dirtiest, nastiest areas possible. Hastings, Second Street and many other areas are known for their dope dealing, prostitutes selling their asses and the area where many of the Detroit homicides take place.
Deals gone wrong, pimps protecting their whores, dope sellers protecting their areas, it all seems to take place in an area of downtown Detroit. I'm sure a lot of readers have heard about 8 Mile Road, which has been turned recently into a similar area. It's the dividing line between Detroit and what they call the suburbs. I've grown up my whole life in the city.
It got so bad that this year they cancelled the State Fair which was held near 8 mile and Woodward Avenue. I never missed going to the State Fair, it was a great loss to the city.
I've been on the downtown beat for quite a few years now. This area changes you. I've been married and divorced twice. At first women think marrying a cop is different but they soon find out it's not a job for a family man. I can't tell you how many times I've been shot at. It's hard not to take some of those feelings home with you. The marriages that stay together must be really special. I hope that someday I can have one of those.
I now live alone in an apartment just outside of downtown off Jefferson Avenue. It's cheap enough and suits me fine. I always sleep with my gun in the nightstand next to my bed. I hope I never have to use it at home, but I won't be afraid to.
Recently there have been a rash of violence on our beat. Usually it would be prostitutes who were beat up or even killed. There's always the dope addicts that are out of it and cause trouble, but this was different. It seems a number of businessmen have been killed while having sex in their cars.
Their vehicles would be parked in an alley or under a bridge. Always in a deserted or broken down area. In the last five cases their throats were slashed with a razor. Their vehicles were turned off and they would be on the passenger side seat. Their trousers and briefs were pulled down and they had just come into a condom.
At first we figured it was pimps or possibly even prostitutes doing the killing. Because of the economy, there were many more out selling their asses. We soon found out that the money would be gone but the wallets, credit cards, and their jewelry would still be left at the scene. So it had to be something other than theft.
I was assigned to a task force to talk to the hookers and pimps to see if we could find out anything. I hated it when we had to ball-bust these women. I knew most were on drugs, and a good percentage were unwed mothers.
We've pulled them in every now and then on raids when the mayor or Chief of Police made a proposal about cleaning up crime in the street. I really didn't care at all for the pimps but felt sorry for a lot of the women. It was a way of life for them. They couldn't make near the money they took in a day of hooking if they were working in a fast food restaurant or a grocery store.
The problem was, the ones with pimps gave half or more of their money to the pimp. It was suppose to be for protection and unfortunately the drugs they needed. Many would get beat up for not bringing in enough money. I can't tell you how many times charges were filed and later dropped.
Lately though, there have been a lot more independent women on the streets. They weren't giving their money to anyone. A few pimps were found on the wrong end of a knife or gun. A lot of these prostitutes were banding together. I've noticed instead of pimps there have been Madams in charge. For a fee they would really help the women get their drugs and bail them out when necessary.
Most of the Madams were hookers at one time and really knew the ropes. Sometimes we even had a Madam-pimp war on our hands. The Madams seem to have won most of them.
We talked to everyone we could to find out about the businessmen being killed but weren't able to get any good leads. It's funny when you think about it. Hookers were killed every month and we were sent out to check them out. Most cases ended up in the cold case file. Now a few business men were killed and a whole lot of investigating was going on.
Our task force had determined that it must have been a hooker getting even with Johns but we had no idea why, let alone which prostitutes might be involved.
They didn't have a habit of squealing on each other, which made the job even harder. I actually became something of a friend to some of the hookers. I wouldn't say they trusted me, but they did joke and wave to me when I went by. A few would talk to me. Instead of taking them to the precinct to talk, I would often go to one of the diners and buy them a meal while we talked.
In this part of town Halloween became a big thing. On the Friday or Saturday nearest Halloween, we would actually close off about four major blocks in town and let the partiers have the streets. It would be a gala bash for the hookers, gays and lesbians as well as anyone else who wanted to party in the streets.
They would be dressed in full costume to near naked. This was the one night of the year that belonged to them. The streets belonged to them. Onlookers had to stand behind the barricades on the sidewalks. The partiers would go from bar to bar and do their thing. There was loud music and dancing in the streets. It was like a mini Mardi Gras and only went on the one night.
The last couple of years Ghouls and Vampires seem to be the hottest costumes of the year. The almost-naked partiers got the loudest cheers. I'm not into the gay and lesbian scene but my motto is, 'if they aren't breaking the law, I don't care what the hell they do'.
The police officers were there to mainly protect the partiers. We would see the transgender female and male impersonators all doing their thing. There were hundreds of partiers and a thousand spectators.
For the last ten years I worked that night, and really never saw much trouble. This year I had an idea about checking out the other streets in the area for those hookers that didn't attend the party. I'll get back to telling you more about the Halloween party night later.
The last five businessmen that were killed had no connection with each other. All seemed to work at different firms in the downtown buildings. The only thing in common was going to hookers for sex late at night. Also, all the victims were married.
The murders took place about once a week. All were done on different days and the actual killings were always done in the vehicles and in a deserted area not far from the prostitution row, as we called it.
I did get a few stories about a new hooker that played it alone. She stood away from the regular hookers, and I was told pulled a gun on one of the pimps that approached her. I heard from three of my informants that she didn't look like a hooker. That meant she was either very new or possibly might be a plant.
I checked with our Captain and he told me we had two plants, who had been on the street but they hadn't done any stings in our area. They were doing stings in the 8 Mile area. They are used to pick up Johns every couple of months. Neither of our girls fit the newest hooker's description that my snitches mentioned.
My life has had a lot of ups and downs. I caught my first wife cheating on me. Lucky I was a cop, cause I would have killed the son of a bitch. In my second marriage, my wife couldn't handle my job. I really was involved in fights and shootouts. She wanted me to quit and work in a factory, but it wasn't me. I lived to go to work each day. I guess I needed the adrenalin rush my job gave me.
I've been single for a few years now. I have a sex life, and one woman who is kind of my girlfriend. We don't talk shop very often; she doesn't want to know what I did each day. She lives in the same apartment building as I do. She lives on the third floor and I live on the fifth. Neither of us wanted any commitments and knew living in separate apartments was the way to go.
We had rules we both went by. No dropping in without calling first. We didn't have keys to each other's apartment. Lastly, we didn't talk much about our past relationships unless one of us really wanted to say something about it. We did see each other a few nights a week. Usually Saturday night was our night to actually go out.
Our apartment building was five stories, with twenty to thirty apartments on each floor. We did have a private parking lot for just our building's residents. I could honestly say I didn't know five people in our building. I met Susan at the mailboxes in the entrance way a couple of times and that's how we became friends.
Susan works in one of the downtown offices as a secretary. Actually she was an accountant but helped out in other departments when necessary. She only told me a little about her past.
First, she moved into our building a little less than two months go. She found out her husband of four years was cheating on her and got another woman pregnant. He said he didn't love the woman but it just happened. I remember her telling me what she told him. It sounds funny now but I didn't think she meant it that why when she first told him.
"Oh, you just happen to be in a motel room with this women. You just happen to unzip your pants and pull out your cock. The slut looks at your cock and accidentally drops her panties and sits on your cock. Next thing you know you're planting your seed in her pussy.
"Go fuck yourself! You made your new bed and you can sleep in it."
The next day Susan said she moved out. She couldn't afford the rent of the condo on her own paycheck. She did take a goodly amount of the furniture with her. She took half the checking and half the savings they had. The following day she filed for divorce; it's now pending.
She checked with the banks and had her name removed from any credit cards. She said, "Thank God, we paid our bills each month."
Susan has lived here going on three months and we've been seeing each other for the last six weeks.
Her soon-to-be-ex has been bothering her. He wanted to apologize and get back with her but she wanted nothing more to do with him. Once, about a week ago, he got into our building. Someone must have rang him in or he waited for some delivery service to have the door opened and snuck in.
They began arguing in the hall and she was going to call the police after he pushed her. When she went to dial 911 he left the building. She never made the call. When I saw her that evening I told her to get a restraining order against him. I never met the man and he'd best hope I never do. I had strong feelings for Susan.
She told me she was embarrassed when many of her neighbors were looking out into the hall, yet no one interfered. That's the way it is in our city.
The Saturday before our annual Halloween street fair, our precinct has our own Halloween or costume party. I asked Susan if she would like to go with me. For the last three years I've gone by myself, and my co-workers are always joking about me trying to take their dates.
It wasn't true but it did make me feel a bit funny, not taking a date. Susan said she would go with me but reminded me that she was technically married, although separated. It would be another month before her divorce was finalized.
She agreed to go to the party with me. I dressed as an old time cop from the 1920's and she dressed as a hooker. Damn! She looked fine. She told me to put my tongue back in my mouth but she did smile. Her costume was a mini skirt with a large slit on the side that showed a lot of leg. A very low cut top which showed a lot of boob. She wore a bright red wig.
If she were to stand on the corner she would be picked-up in a second. She wore shades, so hopefully as we left our apartment no one would recognize her. She was a brunette but was wearing the bright red wig. I swear, she turned me on and I was sure she knew it.
The party was great and all my co-workers wanted to dance with Susan. They said they wanted to make up for all the time I danced with their dates. All my friends told me she was a keeper; I had to agree but we were taking it a day at a time. Susan went along and we had a great time. When we got back to her apartment she invited me in.
We kissed and she slowly did a strip for me. It didn't take long for me to disrobe and join her on the bed. We didn't need much foreplay because we were doing it all evening. The sex that night was wonderful. Her pussy was so hot and I did my best to hold off as long as I could. I did make sure she reached two orgasms.
We lay together for a while after making love. We had a rule that we wouldn't spend the whole night together. We were trying to just be friends with benefits but it was becoming much more. I kissed her goodnight and headed up to my apartment.
On Monday I received a call from her. She had just gotten home from work and she said she is sure someone had been in her apartment. My partner and I, her name was Jenny Avery, went to Susan's apartment. The place didn't look all that much disturbed. Sue told me that the clothes she wore to the party and a few other sexy outfits she had were missing, including a few of her wigs.
"Sue, do you keep a key hidden outside your door somewhere?"
"Yes, under the mat," she replied.
"Whoever took your things must have checked there. Most people hide a key under a mat or above the door. Please, don't leave a key out in the hall. Someone must have found it and took your things. I just don't understand why they left all your electronics and just took clothes, it doesn't make a lot of sense.
"You should call into the station and file a report. It's just to have it on record in case something shows up. Are you ok?"
"I'm fine now that you're here. Will I see you later?"
"Sure, I'll pick us up something to eat and we can spend the evening together. Now get that key and don't leave it out."
Jen and I knocked on a couple of doors but no one said they saw anyone around Sue's apartment. Most people worked during the day. Jen and I headed back to the precinct. Our shift was just about over.
Lately we rotated our shifts. We would work a month on day turn, a month on afternoons and a month on midnights. It gave everyone a break from the night shifts. Jen, my partner, was a married black woman. It worked out good for us since we were always in mixed neighborhoods. It was hard for anyone to say we had favorites or picked only on certain people. Even though we joked with each other, our relationship was strictly professional. She is a great partner and we always had each other's back.
On Saturday we, Jen and I, were asked if we would work the afternoon shift because that was the day they were going to celebrate the downtown Halloween parade and festival. As I mentioned earlier, they would rope off a number of streets for the partiers to do their thing. It was the one night of the year that they wouldn't get hassled for what they called being themselves.
I mentioned to Sue that I would be working the late shift and I would appreciate it if she didn't go anywhere near that area. She said she would stay home if I promised to stop by after work so we could spend some time together; I agreed I'd be there.
On Thursday evening I received a call from Sue that her husband had just left. He got into the building when someone had ordered a pizza. She told Dave, her soon to be ex to get out and leave her alone. A number of neighbors came out of their apartments when they heard the two arguing. He slapped her and she yelled out that she wished he was dead.
She went back in her apartment and called me. I rushed down to her apartment but the bastard had already left. Sue had a cold pack on her cheek. She cried and said she just wished he would leave her alone. He was drunk as usual. I told her to go and get a restraining order on him the next day. I stayed with her till midnight and we cuddled and watched a movie. I then went upstairs and went to bed.
She called me on Friday and said she got the restraining order. She had a copy sent to his office. He called her at work but she didn't take his calls.
On Saturday I told her I would see her around midnight. Jen and I were keeping an eye on the street party along with a few dozen other officers. The street party went on and was like we expected. The oddest and weirdest people were prancing up and down the streets. With some of the transvestites and cross-dressers it was hard to tell if they were men or women.
The hookers were out in full force showing their asses, tits and pussies. I have to admit it was quite a sight, sort of a Wal-Mart of sex. It was near eleven o'clock when Jen and I got a call to check a couple of the back streets. We were told there was a parked car in the alley with someone just sitting in it.
When we got there we saw a man sitting on the passenger side. He was dead. His trousers were down and his cock was out in a condom. He must have just come when his throat was cut, which looked to have been done with a razor.
We called it in and quickly asked for a CSI team to be sent out. All we did was secure the scene and look around for possible witnesses. We spotted a drunk sitting next to a pole, maybe fifty yards away. Jen stayed with the victim as I went to talk to the homeless man.
"She tried to cut me," he yelled out. He had on layers of shirts and coats that had a big slash across them.
"What did you see? Was there a woman here a few minutes ago?"
"She tried to kill me. She swung that razor at me and cut my clothes. I just wanted to touch her pretty red hair."
More police and the CSI team showed up within minutes. Jen and I tried to talk to the homeless man, but he was quite intoxicated. He told us his name was Lester and we did get quite a bit of information out of him, if any of it was true. He kept saying he wanted to touch her beautiful red hair. It made me think of the wig that Sue wore to the party the week before.
He didn't see her kill the victim. He was leaning on her car, which was under the bridge. When we asked him what kind of car it was he kept saying it was a silver Honda. He could tell by the insignia. It had a big H on it. He had no idea what year it was but he did point in the direction she left. She would have had to be going down Jefferson Avenue.
Even though it was a long shot we put out an APB (all points bulletin) on any silver Honda going down Jefferson Avenue. We told them we were looking for a female possibly dressed like a hooker. Any other people, they could just take down their information and we could check it later.
I knew I would be late seeing Sue so I called her apartment to let her know I would be late. I didn't get an answer and wondered where she might be. I left her a message and told her I would be late but that I would be there.
The homeless man told us that the red haired woman was beautiful. He could see most of her tits and that she had on a really short skirt. When we asked him about her facial features all he could say is she wore dark sunglasses and had really nice big tits.
"She tried to cut me. Did I tell you that?" He kept repeating the same thing over and over. We were pretty sure we wouldn't be getting much more information from him. We had another unit take him to the station and get his statement on paper. We promised him another coat and a meal if he would go along with the officers.
I told the officers to go by one of the homeless shelters and get him another coat. We did need his for evidence, even though we didn't expect much from it.
The CSI team gave me the shock of my life. They gave me the driver's license of the deceased victim. It was Dave Bailey. By what I knew about where he lived, I knew it was Sue's soon-to-be-divorced husband.
One of our units said they just spotted a silver Honda pulling into an apartment complex at Jefferson and Grand Boulevard. They wanted to know what we wanted them to do. There was a woman getting out of the car but she was dressed in slacks and going into the apartment.
That was where Sue and I lived. I told the officers to just get the license number of the vehicle and see who the owner was. It would tell us what apartment the person might live in. I was sure it was Sue. What was she doing out at this hour?
When I told the Captain that the deceased was my girlfriend's husband he told me I wasn't to do any of the interviews. He was sending another team of officers over to question her. He didn't want me to talk to her until they were finished.