The Confessor 1

*** Author's Note: This story contains themes of infidelity, cuckoldry, betrayal, and corruption. Reader discretion is advised. All characters are above the age of 18.

This is my first work, so criticism is welcome. I might continue the story, depending on the feedback. Do forgive any spelling errors I might have missed. Enjoy.***

*****

Samuel sat restlessly in his easy chair as he flicked through the channels on the T.V. looking for something, anything to serve as a momentary distraction from his ongoing torment.

Televised church service.

-click-

Re-run.

-click-

Church service, again.

-click-

Infomercial.

-click-

Yet another church service.

-click- -click- -click-

Samuel nearly cursed at the screen. Being preached to was the last thing he was in the mood for considering the situation he was in. Growing annoyed with the search, he eventually settled for the banal drone of a 24-hour news channel and sank back into his easy chair in defeat, a new layer of frustration resting comfortably atop the previous one. He was half listening to the newscaster give a report about a thwarted terrorist plot to blow up several churches when he heard his wife call from the kitchen.

"Dear, breakfast is almost ready." she said in her usual upbeat tone. "Do you want toast with your eggs today?"

"No, that's fine," he replied trying not to let his sour mood creep into his voice. None of this was her fault after all, and he didn't want to inadvertently take his frustrations out on her.

A few moments later she came billowing into the room in her long flowing dress, holding in her hands a tray with the food she had just finished preparing for him. "Here you are, dear," she said as she placed the tray in front of him, careful not to let any part of her body come into contact with him, "I hope you enjoy it."

"Thank you, Delilah," he said as he received the tray gingerly, being just as careful not to touch her. "I'm sure that I will. After all, you're such a great cook, you could probably make thin air taste good," he quipped.

"Oh, thank you, dear," she said, favoring him with a warm smile as she began to lean down to give him a kiss in return for the compliment.

Samuel's eyes widened slightly as he watched his wife's soft, full lips draw closer to him, and grew even wider as the deep valley of her cleavage began to come into view. "Um...," he began, leaning away from her as she grew closer, "Delilah?"

Apparently hearing the apprehension in his voice, Delilah realized what she was about to do and quickly abandoned the gesture of affection. "Oh! I'm sorry, dear," she said, clearly embarrassed at her own thoughtlessness. "I almost forgot," she added sheepishly.

"No, no... it's fine," he said reassuringly, feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment. There was an awkward moment of silence between them before Delilah spoke again, "Dear, do you mind if I watch the T.V. while you eat?" she asked cheerily as if trying to lighten the mood. "The Mother Confessor is giving a sermon today and I was hoping to see it."

Samuel barely managed to suppress a groan as he handed his wife the remote. "Sure, why not?" he said in resignation. It seemed that he was going to end up getting a sermon today whether he liked it or not.

Delilah accepted the remote and practically skipped over to the couch next to his easy chair. After she had made herself comfortable curled up on the couch, she changed the channel and the newscaster was replaced by a black woman in white robes standing behind a podium.

Samuel had only seen the Mother Confessor a handful of times in his thirty years of life, but she always looked the same whenever he did. He found himself wondering if the rumors about her being immortal might have some truth to them when she started to speak.

"My children," she said pleasantly, looking directly into the camera. "Let us begin by beseeching the presence of the Goddess." The woman clasped her hands in front of her well endowed chest and closed her eyes, tilting her head upward slightly. Delilah did the same, Samuel did not.

"Oh Goddess Dyanarah," she began reverently, "Mother of all. We, your children, submit ourselves to your holy will, your rapturous love, your divine mercy and forgiveness. Bless us with your favor, guide us kindly with your hand, hold us tightly in your voluptuous embrace. In all things, we yield to thee."

"In all things, we yield to thee," echoed Delilah and the unseen audience when the Mother Confessor had finished her invocation. Samuel found himself echoing it as well, more so out of habit than piety.

The Mother Confessor is the official leader of the Church of Dyanarah, to which both Samuel and Delilah belong. It is the world's most powerful religious institution with over one million churches worldwide and billions of practicing Dyanists. As such, the Church's influence over society is extensive, affecting everything from politics, to law-making and enforcement, to education, to... more personal matters.

Samuel, reminded of the cause of his frustrations, looked over to his wife curled up on the couch, fully engrossed in the Mother Confessor's sermon, and found himself becoming engrossed in her. Her angelic face was framed by her long, raven black hair as it spilled over her shoulders, a few strands if it getting lost in the deep cleavage of her ample bosom, and the way her long dress fell about her body just barely hinted at the curve of her womanly hips.

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to embrace her. He wanted to overturn the tray of lovingly prepared food before him and ravish his wife's sinful body right there on the couch where she lay. Right in front of the Mother Confessor. Right in front of the Goddess Herself.

But he couldn't.

Not yet, at least; not until they received the Church's approval. Samuel turned away from his wife and began to eat his cooling breakfast, hoping that filling his stomach would distract him from his desire to empty something lower. As he ate, he thought back over the events that had lead to his current situation.

He and Delilah had been married about a month ago at their local church. Delilah had been radiant that day, so happy and proud become his wife, and he had felt much the same way about becoming her husband. They had been dating since high school and he was looking forward to making their relationship official by being married by the Church.

However, after the ceremony, the priestess who had led them in their wedding vows took them both aside to a private room. After making what she had said was a phone call to the head office of the Church of Dyanarah, she informed them that, in roughly two months time, they were to report to this church for a consultation with the local Confessor.

Samuel had been expecting that; it was common for newly married couples to present themselves before a Confessor to receive the blessing of Dyanarah and guidance navigating the common pitfalls of marriage. However, what he hadn't been expecting was for that meeting to take place nearly two full months into the future.

Apparently, due to the sheer volume of requests the Church had been receiving from newlyweds, they were short on Confessors and had to place them on a waiting list. Samuel knew it had been a bad idea to get married in April, but Delilah—like many other women, it seemed—loved the idea of being married in the spring, and he—like many other men, it seemed—was happy to make her happy.

However, Delilah's happiness had come at a bit of a cost, because, until they had their consultation with the Confessor, they were prohibited from engaging in any carnal activities; that meant no sex. Not even masturbation.

The purpose of this sexual fast was to purify them of all earthly desires in preparation for their meeting with a holy Confessor of the Church. How abstaining from sexual release for two months was supposed to decrease his 'earthly desires' was completely lost on Samuel, but he knew better than to voice his objections; the Church did not take kindly to heresy, and they had ways of punishing those who failed to toe the line.

He had heard stories about what happened to those who ignored the Church's ban on premarital sex; men who had been rendered impotent by some power the Confessors had, and women who had been abducted from their homes in the dead of night, never to be seen or heard from again. Samuel didn't want he and Delilah to become one of those stories. They had obeyed the Church's rules all their lives and were a virgins at thirty because of it; two more months couldn't hurt. At least, that's what he'd thought at the time.

"Dear, is there something wrong? You've stopped eating." the sound of Delilah's concerned voice brought him out of his reverie. "Oh, no, no, no. Nothing's wrong," he said hastily as he returned his attention to his food. "I was just..." he floundered, and then, with a sudden flash of inspiration, "I was listening to the Mother Confessor's sermon, that's all."

"Ah, yes," she said, her reverence and awe readily apparent in her voice, "it is a wonderful sermon, isn't it? She is truly blessed by the Goddess."

"Y-yes," he echoed enthusiastically, happy not to have been caught in his lie, "truly blessed."

As Delilah went back to watching the T.V., Samuel once again found himself admiring the 'blessings of Dyanarah' she had somehow managed to cram into the tight bodice of her dress.

For as long he had known her, Delilah had always dressed very modestly. She was aware of the affect that her body had on men and wished avoid tempting them, and they in turn tempting her. She was also very pious and reserved, even after they started dating. He'd learned early on that any attempt he made at flirting with her would more often than not lead to a lecture. Describing her as chaste would have been an understatement.

However, that all changed during the first week after their marriage. Delilah, while still obeying the Church's orders, abandoned all sense of impropriety in his presence and took almost every opportunity to prance around the house in near nudity. She seemed to revel in the way Samuel stared hungrily at her body and laughed joyously whenever she noticed his fully erect member through his clothes.

During the day, she would practically assault him with affection: showering him with kisses from her pouty lips; pressing her large, supple breasts into his body for no reason at all; and hopping into his lap whenever he sat down to watch T.V.

At night, she would ask him to spoon with her under the pretense of helping her sleep, but would inevitably end up wiggling her hips and giggling when she felt him grow erect at the stimulation. She would eventually tire of this game and fall asleep while he lay awake in the darkness, his mind filled with dangerous thoughts.

Unable to sleep, he would often explore his wife's sleeping body with his free hand as she slept, sliding it under her bedclothes to fondle her defenseless mounds of flesh as he rubbed himself gently against her soft behind.

One night, overcome by his lust, he got out of bed and went into the bathroom to masturbate. He thought of his wife, her sinful body and maddeningly amorous behavior, and stroked himself furiously. As he drew closer and closer to climax, he suddenly remembered the stories of the men who had been rendered impotent by the Confessors. The fear of joining their ranks brought him to his senses and he quickly released himself, breathing hard, a small white drop of semen forming at the tip of his angry member.

He stripped off his clothes and got a very cold shower before returning to bed, resolving to talk to Delilah about the affect she was having on him in the morning.

Delilah was very understanding and apologetic when he spoke with her, as he knew she would be. From that point on, she began dressing much less provocatively around the house, and her overt displays of affection came to a complete stop. She protested when he told her that he would be sleeping on the couch, but he remained firm and she eventually relented. It had pained him to force her to be so distant from him within their own home, but, after all, it was for the best and only temporary.

Samuel heard the clink of his fork hitting his plate and realized that he had finished eating all of his food without even noticing it. He looked up and saw that the Mother Confessor had finished with her sermon as well, and was walking off the stage. Delilah raised her arms directly up above her head and stretched. "Oh, you finished," she said happily, noticing his empty plate and rose from the couch. "Let me clean that up for you, dear."

The daydream he had been having had somewhat rekindled the fires of lust within him and his eyes took in every part of her body as she moved. When she bent down to take the tray back from him, his eyes immediately found her cleavage.

And she noticed.

Delilah looked at him for a moment, her face unreadable, but then a small, coquettish grin began to spread across her face. She rose, holding his eye for a moment, and then turned to leave the room, swaying her hips as she walked a little more than she needed to.

"Just three more weeks," he mumbled to himself after she'd left the room. "Three more weeks, and this will all be over."

-3 weeks later-

Samuel and Delilah stood outside in front of the massive church in the early hours of the morning. It was a weekday, so there were very few people around other than themselves and an old man sweeping the steps that led up to the church's ornate double doors.

Samuel wondered why the man was working for the Church. It was a well known fact that the Church of Dyanara was run entirely by women; men were allowed to serve the Church, but they were only kept around to do the heavy-lifting or odd jobs that the women didn't want to do themselves. It sounded more like a punishment, and maybe it was.

As the two of them stood outside the church, Samuel found himself casting sideways glances at Delilah. The Church had instructed them to wear comfortable clothing and Delilah had chosen a long sleeved, button down dress that hung well below her knees and flat sandals that she could easily kick off. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she appeared to have applied very little make-up to her naturally beautiful face. She was modesty incarnate, and yet she inspired the most immodest thoughts within him.

When Samuel realized where his thoughts were about to take him, he gave his head a quick shake and returned his attention to the church in front of him. "How much longer are they going to make us wait?" he said with a sudden flash of irritation, no doubt fueled in part by his unsatisfied desires.

"Dear, be calm," Delilah said soothingly as she gently placed her hand on his wrist. A gesture that sent a little jolt of electricity through him, and, to his surprise, caused a stirring in his nether regions. "They said the Confessor would be here to meet us. We just have to be a little patient, that's all."

Samuel only grumbled in response, resisting the urge to pull away from her touch.

"Oh, but this is exciting, isn't it?" she continued, practically bouncing as she spoke. "We're going to meet a Confessor; one chosen by the Goddess Herself. Oh, dear, I can't wait!" she said with glee, but quickly collected herself when she saw that he didn't share her anticipation.

"Would you like to pray with me while we wait?" she asked helpfully after a moment of silence. "It might help your mood."

Delilah had always been far more devout than he was, and took every opportunity to turn to the Goddess for guidance, even for the most mundane of concerns. He knew that her pious nature could easily turn a simple prayer for guidance into an outright sermon. He was in the middle of coming up with some kind of excuse to avoid being pulled into a morning devotional when he heard one of the doors of the church being opened.

A hooded woman appeared in the doorway of the church looking down at the two of them, the white skin of her visible hands and face were a stark contrast to the black robes covering the rest of her body. The man who had been sweeping the steps noticed her as she began to descend and quickly scurried away, disappearing around the side of the large building.

As the woman drew closer, Samuel began to make out more details of her appearance. The black robes she wore, which appeared to be made of some kind of silk, clung to her like a second skin as if in defiance of the very concept of clothing; the outline of her large breasts as they strained against the fabric and the way it hugged the gentle curves of her hips as she walked left very little to the imagination. Nonetheless, Samuel's imagination ran wild as he felt his pants tightening for the second time that morning.

"Ah, you must be the Cantors," said the woman pleasantly as she walked towards them, her high-heels clicking on the concrete. "I am Confessor Nadine. Welcome to our Church of Dyanarah," she said with her arms outstretched as if to echo her greeting.

She was a tall woman, almost the same height as Samuel, and now that she was closer, he could see that there was a split going up the front of her robes. With each step that she took, he caught glimpses of her long white legs and the black stockings she wore that came up to mid-thigh.

The woman's appearance stoked his arousal, but it also inspired a kind of religious awe, even in him. Everything from the way she moved to the way she spoke seemed to radiate authority and power. He belatedly found himself sharing his wife's excitement at meeting a Confessor. This was a woman chosen by the Goddess to be an enforcer of her holy will; an encounter he would likely never forget.

When she finally reached them, she came to a stop in front of Samuel, and, placing her hands on his shoulders, surprised him with a brief kiss on his mouth.

The sudden softness of her lips on his lit his senses on fire. With the exception of the first week, the light touch of his wife's hand moments earlier had been the most intimate contact he'd had with a woman during his nearly two month abstinence. To be kissed so suddenly, and by a woman he didn't know, was enough to set his heart racing.

Caught off guard by her method of greeting him, Samuel gaped dumbly at the woman. A quick look over at his wife showed that she was having much the same reaction as he. The Confessor, for her part, simply smiled calmly as if this was all the most normal thing in the world, her deep blue eyes betraying nothing to the contrary.

Taking her hands off of Samuel's shoulders, the Confessor then stepped over to Delilah and took the smaller woman's face in her hands, staring deeply into her eyes for a moment.

Samuel watched as Delilah stared back with a tight smile on her face. She was obviously a little displeased that the woman had just kissed her husband, but her agreeable nature and deference to the Church likely won out over any complaints she might have had. She simply closed her eyes and waited to be kissed.

"Welcome, child," said the Confessor as she leaned in to kiss Delilah in greeting.

She pressed her slightly parted lips against Delilah's tightly closed ones and let them linger there for a moment before she abruptly broke the kiss.

"Relax, child," said the Confessor, still holding his wife's face in her hands.

"Pardon, my lady Confessor?" Delilah asked with a puzzled look on her face.

"Your lips, child," said the Confessor with a kind smile. "You don't have to hold them so tightly. Are you afraid I'll steal them away if you don't?" she asked playfully, causing Samuel to cock an eyebrow.

He'd never directly interacted with a Confessor before, but he couldn't help but think that this was odd behavior for a representative of the Church, especially considering the strict constraints placed upon physical intimacy outside of marriage. This woman just seemed a little too cavalier about kissing people she had only just met. However, a Confessor's authority wasn't something that could or should be questioned, so he held his tongue and simply waited for it to be over.