I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

“I thought you would never arrive,” the king said with a laugh as he greeted me and Semiramis. His smile was as hypocritical as his words.

Ignoring his insincere pleasantries, I walked directly toward a table. Semiramis, with a nervous nod and an awkward smile, followed closely behind me. Reaching for a glass of wine, I took a small sip and let the rich flavor linger on my tongue.

“Not bad at all,” I remarked, more to myself than anyone else.

“Lord Commander, shouldn’t we at least show some respect to the king of Colchis?” Semiramis asked, her voice edged with concern.

“This trash doesn’t deserve any respect. I wish I could just kill him and take his daughter away,” I muttered, the words barely audible. But that would only further antagonize the gods of Olympus. Aphrodite had warned me that I was already under their scrutiny; it was wise to play it safe for now.

Semiramis sighed when I mentioned killing the king. Suddenly, a commotion erupted as the four heroes of the Argonauts—Jason, Heracles, Orpheus, and Atalanta—arrived. They were all adorned in beautiful attire, but my gaze was fixed on Atalanta. Her beauty was undeniable, a true vision, though it was a shame she associated with those three.

“Lord Commander… Atalanta is a woman of Artemis… I think you shouldn’t touch her,” Semiramis whispered, noticing my lingering stare.

“Artemis, hm,” I mused. The Goddess of the Hunt, one of Zeus’s daughters, known for her fierce temper. I had heard tales of her turning men into prey for her beasts for less. She was one of the goddesses Khione had warned me to be wary of, along with Athena and Hera.

Jason cast me a cold stare as he walked away with Orpheus, but to my surprise, Heracles and Atalanta approached me. I ignored them until Heracles spoke up.

“Lord Commander.”

“What do you want?” I asked, cutting straight to the point.

“I think we may have started on the wrong foot. We are here only for the Golden Fleece, and you are here for Princess Medea, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I couldn’t care less about the Golden Fleece,” I replied.

“Then I think we can come to an arrangement. Let’s work together and share the rewards. You take the Princess, and we take the Golden Fleece,” he proposed.

I looked at him, reassessing my initial impression. I had thought of him as just a musclehead, but he seemed more level-headed than I had given him credit for. But still…

“I don’t trust any of you. It’s a no.”

“Do you think we trust you either?” Atalanta snapped, her eyes blazing with defiance.

“I don’t really care whether you trust me or not,” I snickered. “I will take Medea, and if I have to kill all of you to do that, I will not hesitate.”

Atalanta laughed, crossing her arms. “You are truly ignorant. You can’t defeat all of us, and we are protected by the gods. If you do anything to me, they will unleash their wrath upon you,” she warned.

Draining the entire glass of wine, I looked at her impassively. “I see. But I have a question for you.”

“What?” She glared at me, suspicion in her eyes.

“Is Artemis a virgin?” I asked.

“Of course she is… she is vowed to be a virgin, she is our virgin goddess,” Atalanta replied, her gaze narrowing.

“Not for long,” I said, turning to leave.

Realization dawned on Atalanta, and she froze in place, understanding the implications of my words. “This man doesn’t care about his life…” Heracles muttered, clearly shocked.

Walking beside me, Semiramis was speechless as well. But my intent was not merely to provoke. The more gods I had on my side, the better my chances of survival. Even better if the god or goddess had a high status, like Artemis, daughter of Zeus himself.

After a lengthy period of anticipation, Medea finally made her appearance. She was adorned in a traditional white ancient Greek dress that gracefully revealed her shoulders. Her face radiated with an almost ethereal beauty, suggesting she had received an exceptional amount of care. Her presence was captivating and regal.

“Come, daughter,” the king commanded, dragging Medea towards Hero Jason and the others. Though she followed her father’s lead, I noticed her stealing quick, fleeting glances in my direction. Their interaction continued for a while, but it was of no concern to me. The entire assembly eventually concluded, with us remaining largely unnoticed by the rest of the party.

Throughout the event, the King remained steadfast in keeping Medea close by his side, not allowing her a moment’s respite. However, direct conversation wasn’t necessary for us. Our exchanged glances and lingering stares conveyed all that needed to be said.

“Let’s leave,” I finally said to Semiramis, sensing the time was right. She nodded in agreement, and together, we retreated to our quarters.

°°°°°

That night, as the world outside succumbed to silence, Semiramis and I prepared for rest. She chose to sleep on a bench-like structure, despite my repeated offers for her to join me on the bed. Her wariness of our situation was still there. As for myself, sleep eluded me. My eyes remained wide open, fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought.

A soft series of footsteps soon disrupted the stillness outside our room. The door creaked open slowly, and through the narrow opening, a pair of heterochromatic eyes peered in. It was unmistakably Medea. She entered quietly, closing the door behind her with careful precision. Clad in her pristine white dress, she stood before me, her face a picture of resolve and vulnerability.

“Father stopped me from speaking with you, Lord Samael,” she confessed softly.

“I know,” I replied, acknowledging her plight. Her cheeks flushed with color as she took hesitant steps towards me.

“I… I also want to go with you,” she admitted.

“I know that too,” I said, having sensed her desire long before she voiced it. It was clear in the way she looked at me.

“Become mine,” I said. “I will give you everything, but in exchange, I demand your undying loyalty. Your body and soul must belong to me.”

As I spoke, her eyes darkened with a mix of anticipation and submission. She climbed onto the bed, her hands softly caressing my thighs. Her gaze remained fixed on mine, hazy with desire.

“With pleasure, Lord Samael,” she whispered, her voice dripping with seduction. She leaned in, pressing her lips against mine in a tender yet fervent kiss. Her teeth grazed my lips, and her tongue traced their outline. I allowed her to savor my lips as my hands wandered to her shapely hips, feeling the heat of her skin through the fabric of her dress.

My body responded instinctively, my desire for her manifesting physically. Medea continued to devour my lips passionately.

“Hmnn~”

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I felt her moan softly into the kiss as my hands roamed to her firm backside.

In one swift motion, I flipped her onto her back, taking control. The moment had arrived to fuck her hard enough to imprint my mark on her engraving it deep inside her.