The Confessions Of Frannie Langton Book Novels & Stories

I said in a rush but regretted it immediately. Why am I speaking like this? Even I didn't understand why I was so angry! Or perhaps I did, but didn't want to acknowledge it. The prospect of leaving him and not hear even his stupid sarcastic words had finally caught up with me. Nightmares about our separation and my lonely life in a faraway country have become frequent now, but this was the first time that I could feel it, literally, as I stood one foot away from him. A hot flush spread to my cheeks for a different reason and my eyes began to well. I turned my face away and pulled my Pooh bear shirt back on, wiping my eyes dry on the way. "Mo, that shirt is three years old and it has a huge i

Brown smirked, “Of course you’re a slut. Only a slut would agree to be locked up in a room with strange men, begging to me fucked senseless.” I felt a drool slip out of my mouth. I wiped it off and for the first time, the corners of my lips curved up. “I’m a slut.” It was a confession, one I had longed to say out loud. “Shit boys, we’ve got ourselves a real one here.” that was Green eyes. I felt cinnamon spank my ass, I gasped out. “Get on your knees, Slut” I didn’t care who the order came from, I scrambled to my knees without a second of hesitation.

Hart shrugged off his tweed jacket and loosened his tie, casual in a way that made her heart thrum. “I suppose we’ll have to wait it out.” Fallon sat across from him, legs crossed tightly as the firelight danced shadows across the Persian rug. She shouldn’t have noticed the way his gaze flicked down to her thighs. She shouldn’t have noticed the row of books tucked behind the encyclopedias leather bound, aged spines, titles in French. Erotica. Hart followed her gaze. Said nothing. But when she rose to touch the spines, tracing one book titled La Petite Mort, he spoke low and commanding.

Well, now it was time to do something even more audacious than leaving work early. She took the small package out of the handbag and tore open the wrapping. The little book she unveiled made her hands shake and her lips quiver with excitement and anticipation. ‘The Further Forbidden Escapades of Fanny Firth’ typed in bold on the cover sent a few shivers down her back and a pleasant throb between her thighs. Doris couldn’t wait; she dropped down on her bed and opened the book with breathless exhilaration. ‘So there I was again, wondering how it was that this kept on happening to me. Was there a magnetic convergence all around me, attracting all the things that were always so scandalous and wa

Turns out that it wasn't the attendance sheet at all…i gave him the wrong paper. That was my novel—where I wrote everything I felt about Danny anonymously and published some copies. Frank's eyes darted on the pages as his expression changed from confusion to amusement and then.. to shock. “Wow,” he said, laughing softly as he started reading the first page. “‘The way he skates, the way he smiles, the way his eyes light up when he looks at me—it makes me wonder if I could love him forever.’” My eyes widened in terror as I quickly rushed to him trying to snatch the paper from him desperately. “Give it back! That’s not supposed to be there! It's private!”

“I’m sorry for the troubles.” And that’s it on Confessions of an Exorcist. I guess the only plus side to all of these shitty happenings is that I will not be ordained. I will take that as a win. Who knew seven year olds could pack a mean punch? Goodbye everyone. Stay Divine. Author’s Note: Finally wrote my first exorcism, what do you think? This chapter is the longest I have written but I hope to write longer chapters in the future, possibly ten thousand words *wink*

"Go in search of the confessor. I want her found by all means. "No matter what, make sure she doesn't die. I want her alive". He paused and took in a deep breath. "I have so many plans in store for her". Silence. "Yes, My King" the guards bowed and left. * * Her name is Isabelle. And the story of how she became the last confessor.... The confessors were females with special powers of compulsion. They compare someone by forcing them to look into their eyes, then the power takes over. The person becomes their slaves for as long as they live and do every single thing they say. The only way to break the spell was if the confessor dies.

The man said coldly. Still, Franchine wasn't in the least intimidated... " Oh... Consequences like, Being beaten to a pulp by some masked men? Or become expelled from college? Or becoming incriminated for a crime one didn't commit? " Franchine paused as she took in the expression of shock on all of their faces. " Or at most, being murdered? " The cult members all fell silent as they stared at her with astonishment... They wondered where she got her confidence from... Like really...

Sometimes I lose count, my body shakes, and my voice goes hoarse from moaning. He asked me to tell him about the times in college. He bet it was in some frat house. I said yes, frat house, but also cheap motels. In between him fucking me, he wanted the facts, and I told him. It turned us both on. Every detail I gave him made him harder, made him fuck me deeper, like he was claiming that younger version of me too. ‘Yes, Poppy, tell him. You have a lot of secrets… tell him this one, how slutty of a woman you are.’ My mind screamed to tell him.