The Way To Confess Novels & Stories

I whispered, the microphone catching the hitch in my voice, "the only way to know mercy is to be completely consumed by the sin. To feel the fire until there is nothing left but total surrender and the name of the Lord on your lips." I abruptly closed the book. My face was flushed, my heart hammering. I could feel the throb in my lap, the familiar, shameful bulge against the silk of my robes. As the choir began the hymn, she didn't join in. She simply stood, adjusted the strap of her bag, and winked at me before slipping out the side door. She had heard my confession, and she knew I was far from cured. I was back in the confession booth the next Friday. Days of fasting and discipline went do

Rumor had it that it was secluded because it was the place where priests chose to seduce parishioners. The confessional was closed, having only one door for the priest to enter. It was a kind of old wooden box. The side windows were covered with screens, so the priest could see the parishioner, but the parishioner could not see the priest. There was a step outside, so the penitent could kneel while confessing.

"Though everyone here is standing in silence, we all have an inner voice who wants to convey so much. Isn't it a little unfair that only the valedictorian gets to pour out his heart? What about the others? That is why I am here. To tell you what is in my heart. It took a lot of courage for me to come up and talk like this. But I know, if I back out right now, I will reget it for the rest of my life. Out of all the people that I have met here, made memories with, there is one special person, who has made me smile. They have been the light of my life for past 4 years. Someone whom I have loved and cherished for a long time. I am here to confess to them." Scarlett clutched Byron's hand, trying

“P-Please…” I balled my fists and swallowed hard. I bore my eyes to him, lazily meeting his pleading orbs. “You have to confess everything to me, so I can finally forget my feelings.” Pain crossed his eyes. I saw how tears formed at the corner of that beautiful ocean eyes full of misery and regrets. I looked away, I can't even withstand his stares. “Tell me everything, so I can move on.” “I don't want you to move on…” his hoarse voice cracked.

May be he was asking to be forgiven too. If he had listened to the confessions of this lady before him, this next step would have been a personal interaction with her thereby offering best ways to avoid repeating same sin. He had the responsibility to fix the breech his absent mindedness created because she obviously can't be asked to re-do the confession. This was his call so he has to do it right. In other to avoid embarrassing himself and his authority any further, Fr Gregory decided to wing this by offering some general guidance also suggesting ways to avoid sins in the future. He had instructed her to say the Prayer "the Act of Contrition".

— I want you to confess. Clara opened her eyes, confused. — Confess? — That's it. — He pulled the veil gently but firmly, forcing her to come closer. — I want you to kneel and confess all the sins you've been committing in your dirty little head. "I want you to confess that you got excited when I put my fingers in that virgin pussy. I want you to confess that you came in my hand while crying." He tilted his head, his lips almost touching her ear.

“Stay for that first session, Sophia. The confessional booth is open. Let’s begin with a proper confession so I can guide you right.” My heart hammered as I followed him to the dimly lit booth. I knelt on the worn cushion, the wooden screen between us carved with tiny crosses. The air felt thicker in here, warmer. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” I started, voice quiet. “It’s been two weeks since my last confession. I… I was vain about how I looked in my choir robe last Sunday. I liked when people complimented me.” His voice came through the screen, low and commanding.

Papa just nods and tells me to remember my promise. We go to confession every single week. I kneel in the dark wooden booth and whisper to the old priest, “Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” But I never tell the full truth. I never say how I still touch myself almost every night. I never say how much I miss Signora Francesca’s phone and the dirty videos that make me so wet.

There was a chair inside the box and a small opening to carry on the exchange of words. She sensed the priest's presence on the other side of the wall and slipped into the chair. Hot tears burned her eyes again as she gathered the courage to speak. "Good evening, I..I am here to confess my sins. I le..let someone kiss me," her face was burning hot with the embarrassment she was feeling in the moment.

“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.”