Sinners Anonymous Book Novels & Stories

This story contains explicit content please read if you are above 18. ************************************************** Ava All Men suck. If not that i like dick so much, I would give up on them. Who the hell knocks up their fiancée’s best friend? Who the hell fucks their own best friend’s fiancée? Where’s the damn girl code?

BOOK 1: THE SHEPHERD'S SIN SYNOPSIS: "Some sins are too delicious to confess. Enter at your own risk. Once you cross the line, there is no going back.” Step into a world where the lines between pleasure and pain are blurred, and the word 'forbidden' is merely an invitation. The Taboo Chronicles is a curated collection of dark, twisted, and unapologetically erotic stories designed to push the boundaries of conventional desire.

he asked. I have no idea what came over me as I nodded softly. “Very good, then. Please grab that file on the shelf and sign your name on it.” He said, his eyes guiding me to the shelf just inches away from the bed. I stretched my hand toward the file and a pen on the shelf, then let my eyes skim what was written on it. “This is a consensual form between Doctor Charles Howard and his patient named…” Where the patient’s name was supposed to be entered was an empty space, so I swiftly wrote my name and proceeded to read the rest of the form.

Our pretty princess and our submissive little slut. Our sweet Gabriella. THE END

44. Sinful I don’t know when I slept but I woke up by 3:00am; I was exhausted and hungry, I felt weak to my bones like I was about to faint. I struggled to push myself out of bed and when I did, I saw a tray of covered dishes on the bedside table, and a note that read: Just rest A

I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, my hips rolling off the hard bench. "It feels so good, Father Edmund," I gasped out, panting as I kept my eyes locked on his shadow through the screen. "I’m fingering myself right in front of you. Come on, tell me I'm going to hell. Tell me I'm a sinner while you listen to me fuck myself like a dirty little whore I am." The booth rattled violently, making me jump. A loud bang echoed through the small space as he slammed his door shut, leaving the confession booth.

I mean he did say he would hurt me, and now he is saying he will see me soon. Yet I still had yet to do anything. The alcohol buzzing in my system is another reason I should leave this for tomorrow. But I was also looking for a distraction for the predicament that had found me, I certainly didn’t go looking for it. My eyes go back to the screen coming back into focus after dazing out. I lick my dry lips and take a drink of my water. The alcohol was making my mouth feel like cotton from all the sugar. I see a picture of a bar , well I believe it to be a bar. It states on a sign. “ Sinners Den “ But the rest of the building didn't look anything fancy. It looked run down if anything.

As if an unheard bell sounded, the smokers and non-smokers made their way to their marked seats. The man beside Krispin stood and walked to the front of the room. "My name is Barry Levins," he said in a loud, gruff voice, "and I'm an alcoholic. The purpose of AA is to stay sober and help other alcoholics to achieve sobriety. This is an open meeting and some of you have brought friends and family. They are here for support, but this is not the venue for them to speak. I would like anyone new to stand and give a short introduction. Please begin with 'I am an alcoholic' and also list any other addictions you have."

“That’s… not appropriate.” “Is it a sin to notice beauty, Sister? God made you beautiful. Seems wasteful to hide it under all that black cloth.” Each session chipped away at her armor. Marcus was clever, articulate, and disarmingly honest about his past—violence born from a brutal childhood, choices that spiraled out of control. He didn’t ask for pity. He asked for understanding. And in return, he offered her something dangerous: undivided attention, raw masculinity, and words that lingered in her mind long after she returned to the quiet safety of the convent.

I shook my head and lied that I wasn’t feeling well. Instead, I slipped out of work early and met up with Jenna – the friend who had given me the pills earlier - at a downtown bar. I needed a strong drink and a shoulder to cry on. We snagged a booth in the back and, two cocktails in, I spilled the whole saga - how Ethan turned out to be my boss, our incredible day and night together, and then the mysterious redhead now hanging off his arm. Jenna’s eyes widened at all the twists and turns. “Holy hell, Anna,” she breathed, squeezing my arm. “No wonder you’re a wreck. Here, drink.” She slid another martini toward me.