Ecstasy of a Punishment Well-Deserved

By Thrall of Pentacles

Atara is a Cleric of Helos—and after retrieving an ancient relic that's been lost for centuries, she's well on her way to being Sainted. She has a responsibility to be benevolent, pure... perfect. But no matter how hard she tries, it's never quite good enough.

Zethys is a part-demon Asmodite who wields dark magic and breaks into convents to steal artifacts. She's an old enemy, and as far from good as a child of Helos can possibly get. But during a reluctant truce, Atara learns that there's more to her than the curse on her ancestry—and much more to herself than her duties as a cleric.

A short story about a repressed cleric, who uses the power of masochism to get around religious guilt and enjoy her own body for the first time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thrall of Pentacles
• Release date: Jun 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005529581

Thrall of Pentacles

Thrall of Pentacles writes queer and kinky fantasy erotica. They write mainly as a hobby, though they'd love to do it full-time someday. Expect lots of submissive POV characters, humiliation kink, and aliens.Contact them at [e-mail]

Book preview

Ecstasy of a Punishment Well-Deserved

Published by Thrall of Pentacles at Smashwords

Copyright 2021 Thrall of Pentacles

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The most ancient and holy amulet of Saint Selascerin, the gift forged from the light undying of Helos Our Lord On High, the legendary instrument by which Selascerin had healed his entire army in one mighty spell, sat in the center of Atara's palm. It was heavier than she'd expected. Solid gold, studded with glittering rubies in the shape of a blooming rose. Beautiful.

She'd spent twenty years tracking it down. The Battle of Mount Akani had been centuries ago, and the holy relic hadn't been seen since. Atara had scoured archives all over the continent to find this castle, then fought her way through a cult of vampires to rescue the amulet. There was a decent chance that when she got back to the Cathedral, Atara—the little nobody who had only barely become somebody when she took her oath as a cleric—would be sainted herself.

It was a difficult moment to ruin, but that didn't mean Atara's least favorite person in the world wasn't hell-bent on trying.

I assumed it'd burn me or something, Zethys said, and poked the amulet. Poked. The amulet of Saint Selascerin. With the inky-purple claws she'd inherited from a demon somewhere up the family tree. On a hand she regularly used to enact heretical sorceries.

What do you think you're doing?! Atara clutched the relic protectively against her chest.

Not getting burned, apparently. Zethys sounded disappointed. An entire castle full of vampires to get your hands on this thing and it can't even burn one measly Asmodite? Waste of effort if you ask me.

The amulet is an instrument of healing. Atara made to put it on, purely for