Confession Novels & Stories

“His dick— I see it when I close my eyes, when I’m in the shower. I see it when I’m trying to read my books and the worst time is when I lay in bed at night” My breath came in short gasps, the confession pouring out of me like poison and a relief at the same time. “I can’t even stay a day without seeing him, without wanting…” I trailed off, unable to finish, but she nodded, understanding. “I might lose my consciousness if I didn’t get his dick in my hole,” I admitted, the crude words shocking even myself, but it was true and primal.

I had four days left before the poison consumed my organs entirely. All I wanted was to spend whatever time I had left with the woman I loved, but I could not reach her. The next day, I learned that Enzo Marchetti, the first love she had never forgotten, had returned from overseas. "Let's get divorced. The love of my life is back." I clutched my chest as a searing pain tore through it. "I'm at the family hospital. I've been poisoned. The doctors won't let me leave.” Her voice turned sharp and cruel. "I don't care if you're poisoned or dying. Even if you drop dead the next second, you need to come back and sign the papers." The last trace of warmth inside me went cold. I answered calmly,

The confessional booth was a small, dark wooden box tucked into the shadowy corner of St. Augustine’s cathedral. It smelled of old incense, polished oak, and the faint, lingering scent of sweat and shame. Father Marcus, known to his parishioners as a stern but compassionate man of God, sat inside, waiting. His heart beat a slow, heavy rhythm in his chest. It was past midnight, a time when no official confessions were scheduled, but he had received a private, handwritten note slipped under his office door earlier that day. It read simply: “I need to confess. Not during daylight. Midnight. Alone.”

Father Uriel’s POV The silence in the confessional was thick with sin and possibility. Tia’s final confession hung in the air like incense— “...even right now, as we speak… I’m still feeling it. I’m horny again. I’m sitting here in the confessional, wet and aching between my legs, and I hate myself so much for it.” My cock stirred hard beneath my cassock. This beautiful, devout young woman had just bared the deepest, most shameful part of her soul to me, and the extreme religious taboo of it all sent a dark, powerful thrill through my veins.

Papa just nods and tells me to remember my promise. We go to confession every single week. I kneel in the dark wooden booth and whisper to the old priest, “Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” But I never tell the full truth. I never say how I still touch myself almost every night. I never say how much I miss Signora Francesca’s phone and the dirty videos that make me so wet.

This lower male is being hit by both of our Alpha auras, and for some reason, that fills me with pride. "SPEAK. WHAT HAVE YOU TOLD KRAVEN AND WHAT HAS HE TOLD YOU," I roar out. The weak male falls to his knees. He is bowed so low his forehead is rested on said knees. "I informed him of all progress made by your mate, Alpha. I informed him of her win today. He ordered me to inform him of all activities regarding guarding and patrols in the next two weeks. He told me he is currently in the Reverence Pack and that if I tell him what he wants to know, he will help me find a chosen mate of strong bloodlines........I am 28 Alpha. I don't have much time. I'm sorry for my betrayal," the male sobs as

He said the crucifix was made out of the cross Jesus Christ was crucified on and that it is sure to ward off demonic attacks and possessions as long as she has it on her always. .................................. ✍🏾 Jessica goes to St Paul’s Parish to have a confession, she walks into the church with a veil over her face and goes into the confession box and removes the veil. “Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been far too long since my last confession,” she says. “No sin is too great for God to forgive, my child,” he says. “What if I said I didn’t come to confess my sins?” “Then what are

he asked eagerly. “Wouldn’t hurt, you know, for emergencies” I teased. We went to the pharmacy to get some supplies for the week, while I browsed the shampoo and body wash aisle, Remi had wandered off to the condoms. He returned crimson faced and empty handed. “Uhm, Harper…” he began uncomfortably, “there’s like fifty different kinds of condoms. Does it matter which one?” he asked. “No, but do you want me to go with you?” I asked.

Maybe for once I could be honest and say that my marriage was not getting better; it was falling further and further into misery. “I told mine that it was over,” Russell said. “Let me just say, it was fucking liberating. Saying the words was like loosening a damn vise from my chest.” I wasn’t sure what it was about the anonymity of conversing with a stranger, but for the next hour or so, both Russell Collins and I took full advantage. We said things that cleansed and relieved. I wasn’t a fucking priest, but maybe, just maybe, I was able to help him, because I knew that come tomorrow, his time for absolution would be over.

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.