I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

As I sensed Charybdis’s discomfort ripple through the room, I moved toward her. She was never at ease in gatherings, especially with strangers. People made her uneasy; only a few exceptions—Scylla, Medea, and I—had ever managed to gain her trust, after a long time of fight and blood shedding….

Even though she’d spent time with the Trojans, she couldn’t seem to find a natural ease with them, nothing like the familiarity she shared with us.

“Let’s talk,” I murmured softly as I neared her.

My presence alone was enough to scatter the nearby Trojans, who parted and left us in an instant. Charybdis looked up at me, her usual stoic expression easing ever so slightly, relief flickering in her gaze as if I had pulled her from a raging sea. Without a word, she fell into step beside me, and we slipped away to a secluded corner of the hall, a place quiet enough for us to speak without interruption. I could feel a lingering gaze on us, one that felt like Atalanta’s—and perhaps another’s—but I pushed the thought aside.

Once we were alone, I offered a reassuring smile. “You did well today, Charybdis. Keep up the good work and stay close to Aeneas.”

Charybdis nodded in acknowledgment, but there was a faint frown that creased her brow, subtle yet unmistakable.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, sensing her hesitation.

“I… should be protecting you, Samael,” she replied, her voice quiet but laced with a stubborn resolve.

“Do you think I need protecting?” I countered, a hint of amusement in my voice.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she answered, “No. But I made a promise to Medea and Scylla that I would protect you.”

The corners of my mouth lifted in a half-smile. Those three had formed a bond stronger than I had anticipated—perhaps united by their fierce, almost obsessive loyalty toward me.

After the intense battle with Kastoria and her so-called Heroes, I came to a sobering realization: I needed more allies by my side, ones with the strength and resilience to stand against the Divine Knights. Medea was invaluable, her magic beyond compare, but she was a sorceress—her power wielded through spells and intricate incantations, not the brutal force needed to clash blade-to-blade with the Divine Knights. I needed fighters, protectors, warriors capable of not only holding their own in combat but also standing as unbreakable shields alongside me.

It wasn’t easy to find people of such rare caliber. Medea herself was an exceptional individual, a treasure in every sense. I felt fortunate to have won her loyalty, knowing that her skill and intelligence were irreplaceable. Yet, as I pondered who else might possess the power to meet my needs, Aphrodite approached me with a suggestion that was as intriguing as it was daunting.

“Have you considered Charybdis and Scylla?” she proposed.

Charybdis and Scylla—the very names stirred memories of dark legends and violent seas. They weren’t mere mortals or warriors but legendary monsters of the ocean. Their names alone inspired fear, and for a moment, I hesitated. Monsters they might be, but they could assume human forms, and perhaps, with the right persuasion, they could become powerful allies.

Of course, my first encounter with them had been anything but friendly. When I found them, still bound to the ocean and cursed to terrorize passing ships, they were in their true forms—fierce, monstrous beings of legend. Battling them had pushed me to the brink, and I came close to losing my life in the struggle. But somehow, through sheer determination, I managed not only to survive but to subdue them, to show them that I could offer a life beyond their prison of endless violence and isolation.

I shattered the chains that bound them to the ocean depths, freeing them from their roles as mere nightmares to sailors. And when I showed them what I could provide—freedom, purpose, and respect—they pledged their loyalty to me without hesitation. Now, Charybdis and Scylla were not just monstrous forces of nature; they were allies, fiercely loyal and bound to me through more than mere words or promises.

“If I truly find myself in danger, I will call on you,” I assured her. “But until then, your duty is to protect Aeneas. And be cautious—don’t let your strength draw unnecessary attention. You’re known even among the gods, and Atalanta, Jason, and Heracles have all crossed paths with you before, even if it was only in your monstrous form.”

The mention of her past encounters seemed to sink in. During their adventures as Argonauts, the heroes had briefly encountered both Charybdis and Scylla in their terrifying states. I didn’t want that recognition to threaten the delicate balance of things now, especially with Atalanta so close. Charybdis’s steady nod told me she understood the gravity of the request.

“Understood,” she murmured, her loyalty unquestionable.

I took a moment to observe her, appreciating how the Trojan tunic she wore fit her frame, the blue fabric a stark but pleasing contrast to her powerful presence. She looked every bit the part of a Trojan warrior, though I knew her true strength far surpassed what any of them could imagine. No wonder the Trojans seemed eager to catch her attention. She was captivating—her beauty was raw, intense, and slightly intimidating.

“Don’t you look good, Charybdis?” I remarked with a smile. The blue tunic suited her well, accentuating her form in a way that would make any man turn his head. She might be reluctant around others, but there was no denying the allure she carried.

A visible shiver ran through her body at the compliment, her control momentarily faltering. She had already been on edge, but this slight praise seemed to undo her further. I could see it—the strain of holding herself together, the careful mask beginning to slip as her emotions churned beneath the surface. It seemed she had reached her limit, and it was time to help her regain her balance.

I leaned in, my breath warm against her ear, my voice a murmur that barely carried over the hum of the crowded hall. “Let’s take care of that tension,” I whispered, the words laced with promises that sparked something deep within her. “I’ll help you take back control.” Her reaction was immediate, almost visceral—a shiver traveled up her spine, delicate yet undeniable, as her gaze met mine, flickering with a blend of anticipation and need.

The hall was crowded, but we found a pocket of privacy, tucked away in a secluded alcove. I drew a curtain across, leaving us in a quiet, shadowed space, half-hidden from the bustling world outside. The faint sounds of laughter and clinking glasses faded, leaving only the charged silence between us. We blended into the stillness, our presence muted, slipping into a space where only she and I existed.

With a firm touch, I grasped her chin, tilting her face up to meet mine, and pressed my lips to hers. Her lips were cold, soft as velvet under mine, sending a jolt through me.

“Hmmn~~~” She let out a soft, involuntary moan as I lingered, savoring the taste, tracing the line of her jaw, letting my tongue glide over the delicate curve of her chin before capturing her mouth again. Her reaction was immediate, each quiet gasp and shiver drawing us closer to the edge.

“Get down.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but it held a command that she didn’t hesitate to follow. She sank to her knees, her eyes steady on mine as she settled herself before me, her breath coming in soft, eager puffs. With a slow, practiced motion, I eased down my pants, revealing myself to her, thick and heavy, still soft but throbbing with anticipation.

Her gaze lingered, her lips parting just slightly as she took me in, her fingers already moving to wrap around me, gentle but insistent. Her touch was soft, her hands cool and deft, each stroke awakening a deeper need within me. She was focused, attentive, her grip firm as she began to move, each stroke a careful, deliberate caress, guided by instinct and an undeniable eagerness.

I reached out, threading my fingers through her midnight-blue hair, relishing the feel of the silken strands against my hand. My touch seemed to ignite something in her, and her pace quickened, her strokes coming faster, each one pulling me closer to that edge of raw, unrestrained need.

With my cock swelling in her hand, the warmth of her breath washed over me as she leaned forward, her lips parting just slightly before her tongue darted out to graze my sensitive tip. Her tongue moved slowly, deliberately, as if savoring each inch, and I couldn’t help but shudder, a low, quiet groan slipping from my lips. The sheer indulgence of her mouth against me—soft, warm, and wet—sent a shiver down my spine, heightening every nerve.

She let out a satisfied murmur, a sound that seemed to roll straight through me, amplifying the pleasure with each gentle lap. Her gaze flicked up to mine as she worked, her eyes half-lidded, filled with a desire that matched my own. There was something intensely satisfying about the way she approached me, as if she were tasting something precious, something she’d waited for, her tongue swirling over the head of my cock before dipping down again to trace the sensitive slit, where my precum was already starting to bead.

“Sluuurp!”

The sight of her leaning in again, her mouth moving over my length, licking away every drop of my precum as if it were the sweetest nectar, made my cock twitch in response, a fresh surge of arousal pumping through me. Her cheeks flushed a faint pink as she tasted it, her lashes fluttering for just a moment, but her hunger was unmistakable. The desire to drink in every part of me was written on her face.