{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"0903da41-143d-4e4f-aff2-1f9a0a1568e9","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2025-07-18T11:25:00.837Z","title":"A snuff murder mistery","slug":"a-snuff-murder-mistery","shortId":"NhkUo3XK","authorNote":"Daniela's day is pretty much taken from my real life. Except when it's very clearly not :) So you are both reading my own SUPER PRIVATE diary and my fantasy at the same time.","disclaimer":"This story contains fantasy snuff.","type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"Daniela has a busy and erotic last day of her life; the inspector tasked on investigating her murder gets way more involved with her than he should.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"be2e3c5c-34fa-4562-bcdb-f2ad8ee66ed9","title":null,"summary":"November 15, 2022\nI’m in my car, it’s very early in the\n morning, and I’m driving away from the city","wordCount":4909,"readTime":25,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

November 15, 2022

I’m in my car, it’s very early in the\n morning, and I’m driving away from the city. I am booked for an event \nin a hotel near Rome’s airport for the day and I’m running late.I’ve worked in corporate events my whole life.

I started as a hostess, a simple job to pay the bills, my studies, and my vacations. It’s a crappy job.You\n start every event showing up very early in the morning, dressed in \nthigh skirts that, if you are lucky, are at least covering under your \nknee. If the client is an objectifying piece of shit, your skirt is long\n just enough to not fall into the “underwear” category.

You always have to wear high heels. \nYou will stand on those for the entire day and, after a couple of hours,\n the pain will start to eat you up.

Speaking of eating, your lunch break \nis usually twenty minutes long; it consists of a sandwich you have to \nbring from home, because it’s not provided. You usually eat in the \nwardrobe, with the coats and luggages from the people attending the \nevent. You eat alone, in turns. Everything is awful.

And then, there's human interaction. \nBecause you are a hostess, and because you wear high heels and a thigh \ndress, every man twice your age is both convinced it’s ok to sexualize \nyou and that you own them a bit of yourself. If you would tell me now \nthat for the same amount of money you can put me in a car crash, I will \nchoose the crash without blinking an eye.

Today, I book hostesses for events \nand manage them. I still wear high heels all day long; but I get to sit,\n eat like a human being, and avoid a lot of human interaction. I also \nlike to think the girls working with me get better treatment than what I\n got. I try to provide a lunch box and a more relaxed time frame. They \nkeep getting younger and hotter, with bigger breasts and perfect smiles.\n What I can’t control is how people interact with them; I wish I could \nkeep them safer, but I can’t.

I can’t even get the fucking gate to \nthe parking lot to open. The clock is ticking, and I’m very late. I also\n woke up with a huge arousal I couldn’t masturbate off.

November 16th, 2022

Inspector DeVivo was driving away \nfrom the city. Because it was very early in the morning, and he was \nstill on duty from the night shift. When he got the call, he had two \nmore hours of service before hitting the sheets.A\n murder took place in the hotel near Rome airport. Big events like this \nhappen once, maybe twice, in a cop’s life. Murders are not a common \noccurrence in his city, and the airport was not even technically in his \njurisdiction. The town that hosts the airport was too small to even cope\n with the scale of the thing that happened, so police from Rome were \nrequested as support.

Just a couple of hours, and the case \nwould have been someone else's problem. Or someone else’s moment of \nglory. Things were not starting with the right foot in any case: the \ngate to the parking lot won’t open, and he was stuck, outside, with a \ndead body waiting somewhere in the giant building in front of him.

November 15th, 2022

The\n security guard at the staff entrance likes to take his time checking \nIDs. He is overweight, sweaty, and I’m not even sure I have ever seen \nhis legs. His chair is just a part of his persona: sitting in front of \nshitty, dusty monitors all day. Nothing really happens here anyway, and I\n figure this adds to his frustration as a wannabe “man of action”. I \nwish I could see him chase someone, with his belly flopping around and \nhis shirt stained of something unidentifiable.

He takes his time. I’ve done at least\n a hundred events in this hotel, he knows me perfectly, but he has to \nmake sure my name is on the list, and my ID has my face and name on it. \nJust in case this time I decided to be a terrorist of some sort.

He sees how impatient I am, but he \ndoesn’t care. I keep watching him, then the monitors that show the \nhallways of the hotel, then my phone. I’m so late my client will murder \nme. But Mr. Security Guard here likes to take his time.

November 16th, 2022

The body was found by a guy working \nfor the cleaning services of the hotel. At the end of his shift, walking\n in the loading area of the hotel, he noticed a naked lady laying on the\n ground. Getting closer, he noticed her eyes were wide open and the \ntotal absence of breathing.

What really caught his eyes was the unnatural bent of her neck, with a blue and purple color marking a ring all around it.

Other than that, observed inspector \nDeVivo, she looked fine. She was lying on her back, totally naked, with \nher hands carefully positioned on her belly; her legs were straight and \nclosed together, like you would pose a body in a coffin. Her clothes, \ncarefully folded, were positioned next to her together with her high \nheels and her purse; inside, DeVivo found her ID and her cellphone.

This wasn’t the first time he saw a dead body. It was the first time he saw a hot dead body.

He found her to be in good shape, \nwith blond hairs and breasts he would have loved to see bounce on top of\n him. She had a couple of tattoos he could see, and he wondered if there\n were more. But his eyes kept falling on her shaved pussy, so easily \nexposed to everyone. He kept watching, feeling guilt and arousal, hiding\n behind his professional role that had to watch to search for clues, \nleads, and murderers. He got closer to her, almost allowing her right \nfoot to touch his shoe. It was wrong, both from an investigation point \nof view, and from a moral point of view. Maybe it was the lack of sleep \nor maybe it was frustration for his own personal sexual life, but he was\n starting to cross a line and it felt weirdly good.

November 15th, 2022

I’m not a terrorist, apparently. I’m \nfinally in. If you have never been through the staff entrance of a \nhotel, you have no idea what it looks like. The clean, softly lit \nhallways you are used to are in a parallel universe: in here cold \nlighting sets the mood for miles of service hallways, with walls marked \nby the endless passing of carts full of dirty dishes, used sheets, \nbroken chairs.Around one corner, the scent of the huge kitchen will give\n you a bit of hope something good can happen back here; around another \ncorner, the terrible smell coming from the sheets strangers have slept, \nfucked, even pissed on will crash that dream.

I rush in front of the giant washing \nmachines, always working to keep a steady supply of clean laundry to the\n hotel and, through a service door, finally make it to my event.The\n girls, those I was supposed to manage, are already at work, greeting \nguests, working the wardrobe, delivering badges. I push down my skirt \nthat had made its way up my leg thanks to my fast walking in the \nbackrooms of the hotel, and went to work. No one had noticed my absence.\n Better put my work smile on.

November 16th, 2022

Her smell had something peculiar. She\n didn’t smell anything like a dead body should smell. But she didn’t \nsmell like any alive person either; it was a weird, clean scent, like \nshe was washed after death.

It was obvious that she had not died \nthere; that she was moved and posed there for someone to find. Close to \nthe exit to the parking lot, but still inside. Right where cleaning \nservices load and unload their trucks. No wonder that the person who \nfound her in the morning was a worker for the cleaning company. DeVivo \napproached the guy to question him; he was sitting in a corner, still \nshocked by the turn his morning had taken. He clearly didn’t share any \nof the arousal DeVivo felt when watching the dead lady on the ground.

The cleaning guy was a tall, young \nman in his 20s. He had a good body structure and great muscles. Tattoos \non his arms disappear under the sleeves of his black shirt. His name, \n“Paolo” was written in bold letters on his shirt just above his left \nnipple. He definitely had the strength to choke a woman with his bare \nhands. Was he trying to play innocent? Did he find the body or did he \nkill the victim, reporting the finding to create an alibi for himself?

DeVivo was unsure; he started \nquestioning him as the forensics team started to lift the body of the \ndead woman to put her away. He regretted not being there and missing the\n chance to take another peek at her. Maybe see her ass. He wanted that \nbody for himself.

There was just one other witness, a \nwoman working at an event the day before that already told the officers \nshe heard two people talking in a toilet.Security\n was not on duty, since he had left early due to food poisoning. \nSecurity cameras in the staff hallway were never installed, as no one \nreally cared about that.

November 15th, 2022

The day is running smoothly. I’am \nhitching. The reason for my late arrival is the long time I spent in my \nbed watching porn in the morning instead of getting ready.

The outcome was shitty: I couldn’t \nfind anything right. I left home in a hurry, with a deep craving for \nsomething sexual to happen. I had thought about it the entire car ride. I\n constantly look at my phone in search of something to kickstart my \nimagination and get wet.

During the lunch break, my horny mind\n takes the lead and posts a personal adv on a popular Italian board for \nsex encounters. I want to find a hookup in the same hotel. I attach a \npicture of my feet in heels. Maybe some rich guy from Russia will have \nme in a suite? Or someone else working in my same event. Or someone who \nworks here that will fuck me in one of those smelly back rooms.

There’s something about putting \nyourself out there that is extremely thrilling. Just the idea of getting\n a response fuels my arousal more and more. When I check back on the \nwebsite my adv is buried by professional escorts; but my PMs are on \nfire.

A nice, tall, muscular guy named \nPaolo has sent a dick pic straight away. I can recognize the colors of \nthe cleaning services uniform. I like the quick and direct approach. But\n there’s someone else’s message that has a bigger potential to make me \nfeel a slut.

Someone wrote to me that he was \ninterested in meeting me. His language was clean and very polite. That \nhe liked my “shoes” (how cute!). That he didn’t want to meet with a \nprofessional and, with the greatest respect, asked for confirmation that\n I didn’t want any money.

He, however, is not a guest of the \nhotel, so he doesn’t have a room. But the craziest thing is that he is \nwriting to me with his professional email address, involuntarily \nrevealing every detail about who he is, where he works, and why he is \nhere today. He seems so embarrassed and clueless that I don’t really \nsense any danger. And I really like to be the “dangerous” one.

After a quick message exchange on \nTelegram, we decide to meet in one of the hotel's public men’s restrooms\n at 3:00 pm. He doesn’t have any condoms. I promise a blowjob if he \npromises not to cum on my face and hair. He says yes.

I wait for our appointment with my \nhands shaking. I’m about to blow a stranger in a public toilet. \nSomething I have never done and yet something I have fantasized a lot in\n the past. I feel like a whore and my panties are soaking wet. I’m \nscared someone will notice my arousal, or even smell my dripping pussy. I\n can’t stop shaking while I tell my girls I’m getting a break.

It’s 2:55, I’m going to the men's bathrooms on the other side of the facility.

When I get there, I feel like I’m on \ndrugs. Every single one of the men I meet going there could have been \nthe one I’m about to suck dry in the toilet. I have never done anything \nlike it in my life and, again, it feels the only right thing to do.

I wait until there’s no one around \nand I enter the restrooms, then slide into one of the toilets, closing \nthe door behind me. I send my date a message with the exact door he has \nto knock on when it’s safe to do so. I sit on the toilet and wait.

November 16th, 2022

The forensics report came in fast. \nDeath by broken neck. Someone had dislocated the lady's spinal cord and \nshe died in less than a minute. The interesting thing was, however, that\n her body had been cleaned. Not by human hands, but by a washing \nmachine. A giant, industrial washing machine. Furthermore, cum was found\n in her mouth and stomach, meaning that she swallowed cum when still \nalive. DeVivo grew more and more attracted to the hot dead lady who, \nbefore dying, blew someone and swallowed his cum.

She had more cum in her mouth when \nshe died than his wife had swallowed in his entire life. He felt \nfrustrated and aroused. He wanted to cum to the thought of the dead \nlady.

It was clear someone inside the hotel\n had killed her and then washed and posed the body. By also looking \nthrough her phone, it was also evident that she had met someone for a \nsexual encounter that clearly did not end well. Security camera footage \nshowed her getting into the parking lot in the morning, going through \nthe staff entrance and re-emerging to work at an event held there. The \nback rooms of the hotel had no security cameras, so there was no footage\n of the posing of the body, or the use of a washing machine to cleanse \nit. Crucially, there was none of the killing either.

Sometimes, however, lady luck lands a\n hand to men of good will: DeVivo found out with a shock that the men \nshe had met for a blowjob in the toilets had used a personal email \naccount. He had his name and his whereabouts at his fingertips. But he \nalso had something else at his fingertips: the dead lady's private \nphotos.

The most recent one was of her very \nalive feet in heels. The one she used in the message board, but at full \nresolution. He zoomed in, watching every detail of her skin. He swiped \nand went back in time through her photos. A photo of the daily agenda \nfor the event she attended. A selfie on top of a hiking trail, the day \nbefore. Some pictures taken during her evening runs of the landscape, \nthe sunset. Another selfie of her running: she is covered in sweat and \nholding the phone high above her head to reveal a bit of cleavage. He \nfelt he could taste the salty sweat on his tongue.A\n picture of her in a black dress taken in the mirror of her bathroom. \nThe same picture with her giving her back to the camera, to check the \nfit of the dress on her ass. It was very tight and revealing.

A picture in a bra and panties in her\n bedroom, taken through a big mirror. He kept zooming on the detail of \nher skin. A small beauty mark just above her panties line. A selfie on \nan empty beach. She was topless. She had another beauty mark close to \nher left nipple.

DeVivo looked at his colleagues. No \none was looking at him. He has to adjust his pants to hide his hard \ncock. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of her topless selfie \non her phone. He desperately wanted to go home and masturbate. He was \nsure she wanted it, she wanted to be seen and to be at the center of his\n attention.

Feeling the arousal build again, he decided to move to the morgue and see her one last time.

November 15th, 2022

No one is coming. After five minutes,\n I unlock the toilet door very slowly and check the outside: no one is \nin sight. I exit the toilet and rush out of the restroom. No one has \nseen me going in and out, at least.

I check my phone again. He had texted me, and it is the weirdest fucking text I had received in my life.“I saw you going in… you are too hot for me. You would be disappointed”.“Why don’t you let me decide that for myself? Are you passing on a free blowjob?”He\n replies with a photo of himself. The picture was taken on the beach, by\n someone else. His wife, maybe? I am indeed too hot for him. That makes \nme even more aroused.

My blowjob in this toilet would be \nthe experience of a lifetime for him. I will be forever the most \nexciting thing that has ever happened to him.“I’m going back in”, I reply, “that’s your last chance of putting your dick in my mouth”.

I start walking back towards the \nrestroom. No one is around anymore. I see him in the corner of my eyes, \nfollowing me. Checking my ass, for sure. Touching his dick over his \ntrousers. Hunting me. And I was letting him.He\n is closer and closer, as we enter the restrooms again. He has lost any \nprecaution. I sit on the toilet again. He locks the door and pulls down \nhis pants. He is not even hard. I grab his cock and start rubbing my \ntongue on it. I’m giving head to an unattractive man in a public toilet.\n It feels so good to be bad.

I make him hard and keep working his \ncock with my mouth. Gently holding his balls in my right hand while \nstroking his cock with my left, together with my mouth going back and \nforth trying to read what feels best for him.He\n slides a hand under my shirt, touching my left breasts as I keep going,\n looking up at his face. He looks back at me, with that look men have \nwhen you are blowing them. A look of pleasure and superiority. A look by\n someone enjoying the pleasure of you giving it all to make them happy \nwhile you get nothing. My tongue starts feeling something salty. Precum.

“I am almost there”, he says. That’s the first time I’m hearing his voice.

He puts a hand behind my head to push\n me in. Cum starts invading my mouth, and he is not letting go. I need \nto breathe, but I know well that if I open my mouth now the cum would \npour out and stain my clothes. So I decide to swallow as much as \npossible and hold it there until he is done.When he pulls out of my mouth, his cock is still dripping cum. I take it with my fingers, to avoid it falling towards my legs.

“You have some more here” he says pointing at the corner of his mouth.I clean my face with toilet paper and feel satisfied.

The blowjob, the cum, the risk of \nbeing caught or stained by the cumshot, the fact that he is \nunattractive, the fact I’m in a men’s public toilet scraping my lips \nwith toilet paper.

I want to masturbate but I also want to keep the arousal for the rest of the day.

November 16th, 2022

The inspector arrived at the morgue \nin the late afternoon. The dead lady’s body was still on the autopsy \ntable. An intern was almost done closing the big Y-shaped opening made \nfor the inspection of her organs.

“They found cum inside her stomach” DeVivo told again to himself, resisting the urge to touch himself.

He said at the entrance that he \nwanted to take some more notes about her tattoos. It was stupid, as she \nwas clearly not in a gang and her tattoos belonged to her life more than\n to the cause of her death. But she was there, unappreciated by the \nmorgue staff. Such a waste.She was there naked, cold, and exposed. Available. Silent.

DeVivo checked his phone waiting for \nthe intern to finish his job. He looked back at the photo where she was \ntopless. She was topless now as well. He went back and forth from her \nbeing alive and her being dead. She wanted to fuck both version of her. \nOne was gone, but the other was there. He had crossed many lines that \nday: his eyes focused on her more intimate parts, he had a picture of \nher on his phone, he was there just to see her naked again. He had done \nnothing like it in his entire career. Now he just needed that intern to \nfuck off and leave him with her.

When the intern left, he felt his \nbody move like driven by someone else. He kept saying that was wrong, \nbut he kept going. He touched her legs, right on the tattoo she had on \nher quadriceps. He moved his fingers on her skin like you would do to \nremove ice from a road sign.But \nthat was not an icy road: there was no ice on the dead body. He just \nwanted to feel her skin. Soft, shaved, but cold as a rock. His fingers \nwere now tantalizingly close to her pussy. DeVivo kept telling himself \nhow wrong and unprofessional this was. But he also knew this was his \nlast chance with the dead lady. If he was going to, this was the only \nchance he would ever get.

Slowly, feeling just a guest in \nsomeone else’s story, he slid his hand upwards, and finally on her \npussy. It felt like any other piece of meat: just an object, inanimate, \ncold, indifferent.

But his head was spinning. He kept \nthinking about the cum in her mouth and in her stomach. How she was \nprobably wet during that blowjob. She blew someone the day she died.

He took pride in the idea of being \nthe last one to touch that pussy. His cock was fighting to get out of \nhis underwear and into whatever was causing his heart to pump blood this\n fast. He wanted to cum in her mouth, through her broken neck, and into \nher stomach as well. He touched her lips, exposed her teeth. Did she \never sucked two guys at the same time? He wanted her more than he wanted\n everything else. She was just a thing now, but to him she was \neverything.

At home, that night, he desperately \nwanted to jack off in the bathroom. His wife had other plans. For years \nthey were trying to have a baby, with no luck. His wife would count the \ndays from her last period so that they could fuck in the right moment to\n maximise the chance of her getting pregnant.

DeVivo felt used, pressured by the \nneed of having an erection at the right time, on cue, whenever his wife \ntold him so. She would put guilt on him if his cock wouldn’t work. That \nnight, however, he did not fail. As he thrusted into her, he closed his \neyes and relived the moment with the dead lady in his head in a constant\n loop. All he could think while giving his wife a creampie was his \nmoment with the dead lady in the morgue. About her last blowjob. About \nhow much of a whore she was. He had his fingers touch her dead pussy. \nEven as a dead body, she kept making cocks hard. And the cum in her \nstomach. The swallowing. That cum that pointed to a man she met and blew\n in a toilet. DNA confirmed he was the one shooting his load down her \nthroat. And now he would be put in jail for life.

He had enough elements to close the \ncase. A woman leaving late from an event had heard the victim talking in\n a toilet with someone.They had collected messages on her phone pointing at a meetup in a toilet for oral sex.

She had swallowed DNA (cum!) and she \nhad it in her stomach at the moment her body was found. It was very \neasy. Just like in the morgue. He could get anything he wanted. It was \nthat easy to touch her dead pussy. It was so easy to solve the case. He \nfelt like a character from a movie.

When his wife fell asleep, he \nsilently went to the bathroom with his phone. She was still alive in \nthat topless picture. He felt, for the first time in many years, that he\n could cum twice in the same night.

November 15th, 2022

The event is finally over. I can’t \nwait to take off my heels. As all my girls went home, I take the door to\n the hotel back rooms to go back through security, to my car, and \nfinally home.

“I saw what you did, Daniela”. The \nvoice, coming from my back, makes me jump. The security guard is out of \nhis chair, out of his office, and right behind me. He is eating \nsomething disgusting. It looks like an old sandwich fished directly from\n the trash bin.

Weird.

“You saw what?”

“You, with that guy. In a toilet. It’s a violation of the rules”

“What rules? What did I do? With \nwhom? You are fucking paranoid, sitting in your chair all day watching \nother people live their life”

“There’s a camera in the hallway in front of the restrooms. Did you fuck him?”

“Fuck off” I say, turning my back to \nhim, starting to go back to the parking lot. He still has my ID in his \noffice, so it is obvious the conversation isn’t over. I feel a little \nembarrassed about being caught, but I still felt I can reasonably deny \nit.

The back rooms are totally empty. Only the noises from the washing machine keep the place from being totally silent.

“Was it a blowjob?” he asks.

I have enough.

“Yes, I had his cum in my mouth. It felt great. Give me my ID and fuck off”.

He grabs my neck with his hand. He is stronger and more prepared than I had anticipated.

“You should have sucked me as well. Or at least show me more respect for me” he says, very close to my ears.

“I’m not a whore!” I reply. I felt \nlike one and it felt good. Maybe blowing two unattractive men in the \nsame hotel on the same day would give me a thrill of some sort.

He drags me inside the staff toilet. \nNo one is there. He knows no one would see or hear us. And I for sure \ncan’t scream: his hold on my neck is tight enough to give me as little \nair as possible.The staff toilet \nis not as clean as the men restroom on the other side of the hotel. It \nsmells like piss. The smell of a toilet used for an entire day without \nanyone cleaning it. The floor feels sticky and the space inside it is \ntighter. He locks us inside and whispers in my face.

“You should have sucked me. You should have been nicer to me”.

Outside the door, a clear noise: footsteps. Someone in high heels. It’s from one of my girls, leaving late.

“I can give her to you”, I whisper, \n“she works for me. Let me go, I will ask her to go back and you can have\n her blow you in this very toilet. Please, let me go”.

A desperate move. So much for keeping my girls safe.

“Daniela, this is the end.” he says \nwith the calmest voice I have ever heard. He is about to set me free and\n deal with the consequences of his actions, finally.He\n pulls me up and turns me facing the toilet door, away from him. Then he\n squeezes his body against mine before putting his right arm around my \nneck and his left hand on my chin.

“Try not to make any noise. Die with dignity”.

I don’t have the time to understand the last sentence. With a rapid movement, my neck is broken and my body switches off.The noise of the bones cracking is picked up by the girl walking outside.

“Hello? Someone there?” she asks.

The security guard doesn’t answer. He holds my body up until he hears the lady walk away and out of hearing range.Then he allows my dead body to collapse to the floor, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything anymore.

November 15th, 2022

Her open mouth slides on the ground \nstained by the entire staff walking in for a piss, her clothes are \ngetting dirty and messed up. Her skirt is going up towards her waist, \nexposing her underwear.

I have a lot of things to do. I have to hurry, before I start to feel the effect of food poisoning. She\n is lighter than I thought. Her neck was more fragile than I thought. \nAnd she was a bigger whore than I thought. And now I am finally the most\n important man in her life. I own her. I ended her. The last things she \nfelt were my hands, my body, my voice. It feels good to own her.She wanted it so badly. I know she wanted it. I feel good.

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