Confession Novels & Stories

The fact someone like Danielle and her question what she meant to me left me with my own rising upset. “Tell me I'm not better off with Andrew then! Maybe I should go after him and back to my father because at least I'll know what to expect with them..All so you can be free to fuck who you want.” This comment and the imagery it caused snapped my final resolve. With her upper arm in my grasp, I confessed my most private secret to her aloud in a verbal current impossible to stop. “I’ve never fucked anyone, let alone Danielle because my desperate ass has always been waiting for you!” My words stunned her.

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air. Collapsing to the floor, Luna wept uncontrollably, her emotions pouring out. "These are the truths I have been hiding from you. It's okay if you hate me for what I've done. It's okay if you don't believe me. But everything I have shared is the truth." The room fell into an eerie stillness, engulfed by the weight of Luna's confession. Her tears echoed through the silence, a painful testament to the wounds she carried within her. Luna's heart shattered, fearing that Susan would turn away, forever severed by the truth she had laid bare.

It was a balm to her wounded soul, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that had consumed her. In that moment, the heaviness of her confession threatened to suffocate her. She took a deep breath, summoning the courage to share the unspeakable truth. "Kabir," she began, her voice trembling, "it was...my stepbrother. He...he took advantage of me." Her words hung in the air, a fragile confession that pierced the silence of the room. Ameera's gaze dropped to the floor, her body consumed by a mixture of shame, guilt, and fear. She braced herself for the pity or condolences that would further deepen her wounds.

He caged me in and spoke above my lips. "Confess." He licked the seam of my mouth, his fingers diving between my legs, spreading the wetness around. "My slut is always so wet for daddy, isn't she?" I moaned as he dipped a finger inside my entrance. "Sorry daddy, I haven't sinned, but I do have a confession to make." He was rubbing his pant clad erection against me. A new flood of heat dripped down from between my legs. "I c-can't confess if you d-do that." I let loose a loud moan when he grinded against my clit.

"You have my word." I told them the truth. The real reason I had been sent to live here. It felt strange to repeat the events. To say the words out loud to someone who hadn't been aware of what had happened. "Dude," Logan breathed. "That's really bad." "I know," I shook my head. "It was the biggest mistake. Things weren't supposed to happen like that. I-I don't know what to do now." "You can't tell Haven," Cam said seriously. "She'll never forgive you. Especially since you've lied about it."

The next morning, department head Luther Kovac called Thea and me out by name. He accused us of stealing Rachel's work and announced we'd be formally disciplined. Rachel watched us with a satisfied smile. Thea gripped my hand hard. The more ridiculous Luther's accusations got, the tighter she held on. Finally, she stood. "But Micah and I made that proposal together. Rachel stole our work." Rachel's voice went cold. "Where's your proof?" Thea's shoulders dropped. She was right. We didn't have proof. Luther got bolder after that, his words sharper by the second.

She had never, in sixteen years of writing other people's confessions for them, written one of her own, and she discovered, at four in the morning, alone at a desk she almost never used, that the muscles for it did not exist yet, that she was building them from nothing, one true sentence at a time, the way a person learns to walk again after an injury has taken the walking away. She wrote for two hours. She did not stop to edit. She let it come out ugly and repetitive and sometimes contradictory, because that was, she understood now, the actual difference between a confession and a strategy: a strategy could not afford to be any

Although I was hidden, I knew he would recognise my voice straight away. "Bless me, Father," I whispered nervously, "It has been eight months since my last confession." He spoke from the bible and made the sign of the cross before continuing. "What would you like to confess, my child?" He asked. Oh god, please forgive me. "I have been indulgent in... lust." I admitted. I was expecting a gasp or some judgement, but honestly, I had no idea what other people spoke of in these confessions. "Do not be afraid," Father Daniels spoke. "This is a safe place. It is just you, me and God."

"None of your family, or anyone else, will know about your confessions." "What should I do?" I asked. "What if I can't stop myself from letting my lust control me again?" "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," He told me. "As long as you are safe and aware of what you are doing, then you will be okay in the eyes of God. And I am always here to help with your confessions." A weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and with that... my pussy twitched. I had been so overwhelmed by this guilt lately, but now, it was gone.

His voice through the lattice is quieter, closer, intimate in the way that small dark spaces make everything intimate. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” I say. “It has been ten years since my last confession.” “Tell me your sins.” I take a breath. The confessional smells like a hundred years of whispered secrets. His breathing is audible through the screen, and I can hear him controlling it, performing calm. “I’ve been having impure thoughts.” A pause. “What kind of impure thoughts?” “Sexual thoughts. About a man.” “This is not uncommon. The flesh is –”