Confession X Novels & Stories

--- My Jaw Tightens Immediately. --- Someone Knows Not rumours. Not headlines. The truth. --- Which Means This isn't random. --- This is deliberate. --- Anna "Xavier..." --- My Eyes Meet Hers And what I see there nearly destroys me. --- Trust Complete trust. --- Worse She believes I'll tell her. --- My Voice Low. Careful. Honest. --- "I wasn't able to save her." --- Silence The confession hangs between us. Heavy. Broken. Raw. --- Five Years And somehow it still feels fresh.

All the confessors were killed. The confessors - they were females with special powers of compulsion. They had the ability to turn a man into their slaves and do every single thing they desire. And it'd go on for as long as the confessor was alive. King Caesar was a victim of this. He was a slave to one of the confessors and worshipped her. All he could think of, day and night, was pleasing his mistress. The confessor was not all that nice, as she made him kill his parents.

We were in the middle of a conversation when we heard Declan's voice. "Hello, ex-couples. Today, we introduce the confession room to you all, and starting today, you are free to enter it as you please if you have something to confess about you or your ex. Today, let's start by confessing what you felt from the game earlier. Let's start with Alice." One by one, they left to go to the confession room where only the audience will be able to see or hear whatever we confess. "It's your turn, Deena."

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,

“Sorry, Father Pow . . . I mean Kit, I’ve never been on first name terms with a vicar before. I keep forgetting.” “I’ll wager you’ve not been on any kind of terms with a vicar before, eh, lad?” “No,” said Jim, and they both chuckled. “I didn’t realise I looked down, I’ve just been brooding a bit I guess.” “You’re being pursued by demons of your own making, lad, that’s what it is. You need to unburden yourself, you’ll feel a lot better for it.” “Wait, are you telling me confession is good for the soul? Isn’t that what the other lot say?”

I screamed into the air, my face slick with tears and sweat. He pounded harder, faster, the bed creaking under us. “Say it loud. Who’s my filthy fuck-hole forever?” “I’M YOUR FILTHY FUCK-HOLE FOREVER!” I yelled, my throat burning, my body shaking. And with every thrust, with every slam I was reminded over and over again of who I was now. Nothing more than his cum-rag. And this, this is my cum-stained confession. The END.

And they weren't finished yet. Raffaele didn't give her time to catch her breath. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, turned her around again, and placed her on her knees on the narrow confessional bench, her face pressed against the wooden grate. The habit was still bunched up at her waist, her ass sticking out, her pussy red, swollen, and dripping with his thick cum. "Second part of the confession," he murmured, his voice hoarse with renewed lust. His cock was already completely hard again, throbbing against her ass. "Now you're going to confess your dirtiest sins. While I fuck your ass."

I said to him. “Ay! Ay! My Love!” he said to me and start to drive again to go home. So much happen within this day I hope and pray everything will be alright. My heart was beating like crazy when he confesses to me and a simple peck on my lip makes me blush. I hope I can handle my feelings very well, and I pray that our relationship grows in time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And then I hear it — the unmistakable sound of a zipper. He’s touching himself. On the other side of the confession screen, a priest is touching himself while I finger my pussy. “Are you hard, Father?” I ask, my breath shaking, my fingers working my clit faster. “Are you stroking your cock in your own confession booth right now because of me?” A sound comes through the screen that’s half prayer and half profanity. “God forgive me,” he chokes, and I can hear the wet rhythm of his hand on himself, fast and desperate. “This is — I can’t —”

Now she was here, about to confess her sins to the man who starred in every single one of them. Lucia slipped into the confessional booth and knelt, her heart hammering against her ribs. Through the screen, she could see his silhouette. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," she whispered. "It's been three weeks since my last confession." "I'm listening." His voice was deep, rough, nothing like the gentle priests she'd confessed to before. Father Dominic's voice held an edge.....controlled violence just beneath the surface. "I've had... impure thoughts."