Confession Novels & Stories

“I’m yours! Ahhh—fuck, Nate, I’m yours!” The dirty words spilled from my lips without a second of hesitation. I didn't care about Derek. I didn't care about my marriage, my reputation, or the consequences waiting for me tomorrow. All that existed in the entire universe was the wall behind the bed frame violently crashing against the drywall and the wet, slapping sound of our skin colliding, and the absolute destruction Nate was wreaking upon my body. He let out a deep, chest-rumbling groan at my confession, his pace turning fast, frantic, and completely lethal.

Wave after wave drained me until I was trembling, my cock twitching between her perfect lips. Finally, she released me with a soft, wet pop, placing one last gentle kiss on the sensitive head. I sagged against the wood, breathing hard, my spent cock still hanging through the hole. Reality crashed in. What had I done? In the house of God, during confession… I tucked myself away with shaking hands and stepped out of the booth. The church was dim and quiet. My footsteps echoed as I walked around to the penitent’s side. Heart pounding as I pulled open the wooden door.

Then his tone became serious. "I plead guilty to compromise." The room fell silent. "I accepted money I should have refused." "I made alliances I should never have made." "I protected men who deserved prison." Another pause. "I told myself it was temporary." His voice lowered. "It never is." Damian listened carefully. There was something striking about the confession. It didn't excuse anything. It simply acknowledged it. "Did you kill Samuel?" "No." The answer came instantly. Without hesitation. "Did you try to?" "No."

“Amen.” The small window slid shut with a soft click, plunging her side back into near total darkness. Hera remained kneeling for a moment longer, her body weak from the emotional drain of their non-confession. She heard the small noise of him shifting on his side, heard the door to the other side of the confessional open and close, signifying that his duty was done for now.

In that moment of vulnerability, the beautiful woman felt a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through her veins. Fear and desire intertwined in a tumultuous dance, each vying for dominance over her trembling form. Summoning her courage, she drew in a deep breath, steeling herself for the confession that lay ahead. "Father," Lara whispered, her voice barely audible above the hushed stillness of the room. In the darkness beyond the screen, she could sense his presence. Granger. Silent witness to her innermost thoughts and desires. It was a dangerous game they played, this ritual of confession, a dance of temptation and absolu

She was just like the old me, wasn't she? No matter how coldly she had been treated, she would still run after him like a hopeful puppy. The only difference was that I had confessed to him 143 times over the course of five years. As I carried my belongings into the cab, I received a text message from Aldric. "Let's have your 144th declaration tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you with the decorated car." I laughed before removing my SIM card and tossing it away. My luggage had been packed, and a one-way ticket to Eastmere had been booked.

When he is gone, I sit back down and open another ledger—the one that contains my own confessions, which I've written in secret for decades. I dip my pen and begin a new entry. "Tonight I told theson the truth. May God forgive me for what comes next." The bell tolls once above me, low and mournful. It always tolls for someone.

David said nothing; he was clearly angry at Roslyn but he’d refused to say it. They continue to eat in silent until David opened his mouth to speak; “I want to tell you something but I worried you’ll not talk to me again.” Roslyn knitted her brow; she pondered why David said that. “Well, if ya think I’ll not speak with ya again, why bring it up?” she asked. “You can tell me anything David; only if it doesn’t have to do with you cheating on me.” she told him sincerely; David shakes his rapidly in denial. “Far from it, the last thing I’ll ever do is to cheat on my wife.” “Then what is it?” asked Roslyn good-naturedly. He shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair and sighed. “It’s about Dave.” Ro

Shit shit shit! Hell! No freaking way, no no no, just pick your things and get the fuck outta here, Melanie, how can you make this terrible mistake, my cheeks burned with embarrassment, a video of my legs spread apart fucking… sucking… gods on their freaking bar as well!! Jezzz!!!!!! I just want to die right now. I tried to compose myself to text back, “I’m so sorry, Gabriel, hmm I was supposed to send it to Dan, please, I will delete the video and don’t tell Dan I accidentally sent it to you.”

mind: the secret glances, the whispered promises, the hidden touches. I recall the rush of adrenaline as we sneaked around, avoiding detection. But now, those memories taunt me, reminders of my failure. I glance around my room, the familiar comforts now feeling hollow. My icons, once reminders of my devotion, now seem like mocking echoes of my failure. The crucifix on my wall appears to judge me, Christ's eyes seeming to bore into my soul.I think of my congregation, trusting souls who look up to me for guidance. What would they say if they knew? Would they still listen to my words, or would they see the hypocrisy? My parents, devout Catholics who encouraged my vocation, would be heartbroken