Confession X Novels & Stories

Seraphina cut in. -- [Inside The Church - 2hrs Later] There are different sections to the sanctuary. Different room, different purposes. There's the confession room, counselling room, donations room, and whatnot. The confession room has been milling with members coming in and going out with smiles on their faces. They're mainly women. The men are like five in the midst of twenty other people, and Tobias ears are full to the brim with their so-called sins. Women can be funny. "My husband isn't treating me well, Father. What do I do?"

I pushed him away, bile rising in my throat. "You reek of sweat. Go shower." Frank snuggled closer, playing coy. "Work was brutal. Let me hold you for a while." As we tussled, my fingers brushed something crusty on his pants, dried evidence of his betrayal. "Kid spilled oatmeal on me last night," he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. "I'll change." As he showered, I doubled over, vomiting into the sink, my stomach churning from more than just my condition. I grabbed his phone and opened his chat with Lila.

Every ugly thought, shameful moment, and dark impulse laid bare for hundreds to judge. And she was magnificent. “Does the audience accept these confessions as genuine?” the Broker asked again, its voice carrying across the stone tiers. I stood before anyone else could speak. “Yes.” My voice rang out clear and strong. “She told the truth. Every painful, honest word of it.” Kiera’s eyes met mine across the distance. I saw fear there… fear that I’d reject her now, fear that knowing these truths would destroy what we’d rebuilt.

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

I’ll show her! “Are you even listening to us!?! What if you got some girl pregnant at your age? We won’t raise a baby for you! If you can put your dick in a girl then you must be an adult. And adults raise their own babies!” Mom is basically screaming at this point. “Mom! Really think I’m that stupid?” “STDs don’t just wash of son! What if you get to drunk and forget to use a condom? Then you are FUCKED!” “I’m careful and I don’t get that drunk.”

Our eyes didn’t meet, but the air crackled. I entered the confessional. Dropped to my knees. Cock already leaking, the wet spot spreading darkly across the front of my boxers, the musky scent of my own arousal rising in the cramped, wood-scented space. The screen slid open with a soft wooden rasp. “You’ve come to be relieved of your burden?” Her voice;low, trembling, warm breath ghosting through the lattice like incense. “I don’t know. My thoughts are conflicted.” “What burdens you?”

“You’re all I need, Aiden.” “But you’re shaking,” He said worriedly. I bit my lower lip. Despite the little flames crawling inside my body, burning me whole, I was shaking. I gripped harder on his shoulders, perhaps blushing as my lips curved into a sheepish smile. “I have a confession to make.” I swallowed hard; my core was wet as I felt his hard manhood. “Confession…” He grinned, lowering his head and hovering his lips on my ear. “Better confess everything, Baby, because I’ll surely punish you today if I find out you misbehave.”

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.

’d continue to serve a God who killed my parents.” Roslyn grimaced and whimper upon hearing what David said. “I forbid ya to say that,” Roslyn said, standing to her feet. “A light has no function in the daytime, David; a beacon shines only when there is darkness. To discover the light that is within us, we must go through the darkness and when Christ said that he was the light of the world, he was not talking about an external light at the heart of the universe only.” David smiled fleetingly at Roslyn. “Ya still remember the book so well.” Roslyn slightly smiled and nodded her head in response. “I cannot forget Sr. Stanislaus spiritual reflections; ya used to be so in love with her books. I

Confession was my only path to redemption. 'Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,' I whispered, my voice barely audible through the lattice screen separating us. The booth was small, intimate, the shadows hiding my flushed cheeks. 'It has been one month since my last confession.' There was a pause, the rustle of fabric on the other side. 'Continue, child,' came his reply, deep and resonant, sending a shiver down my spine. It was him—Father Elias. My heart pounded harder.