I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

“I expect more from the Amazon Queen,” I growled into her ear, the words laced with both challenge and promise. Before she could muster a reply, I took her earlobe between my teeth, biting down just hard enough to draw a gasp from her swollen lips.

“Haaaan! Whaa…” Her words were cut off as I moved, her confusion giving way to a startled cry.

With a single, fluid motion, I pulled away from the wall and threw her onto the bed. She landed in a tangle of limbs and damp sheets, her hair splayed like a river against the pale linens. Her body arched instinctively, the muscles in her abdomen quivering as she adjusted to the sudden change in position. The dazed look in her eyes only made my grin widen as I crawled over her, my shadow engulfing her completely.

Her legs fell open on instinct, her trembling thighs slick with the evidence of her pleasure. “We’re not finished, Penthesilea,” I purred, my voice a deep rumble as I positioned myself above her. Her breath hitched, her chest heaving, and the flicker of realization in her eyes sent a thrill through me.

I gripped once more her hips firmly, my fingers digging into her soft skin, and thrust deeper, feeling her walls tighten and pulse around me like they were made to fit my length. She gasped, her nails clawing at the sheets, and her head tilted back, a cascade of blond hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her moans were breathy, filled with a mix of surprise and insatiable desire.

“Nghh! You’re too much!” Penthesilea’s voice cracked, her thighs trembling as she struggled between resistance and surrender, her words betraying her body’s cravings.

“Too much?” I rasped against her ear, licking the shell slowly before biting down lightly, enough to make her yelp. “You’ll take everything. Every inch. Every drop. This is just the start.”

Her hips bucked instinctively, meeting me with desperation. Her caramel-toned skin glistened under the dim lights, each thrust sending ripples through her body, her breasts bouncing in rhythm with the ferocity of our coupling. My pace increased, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing alongside her increasingly frantic moans.

“Haaah! FUCK ME HARDER!!! » she pleaded, her nails now scratching across my forearms as she gave up trying to contain herself. Her legs wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me closer, deeper. The wet squelch of her arousal coating me sent shivers down my spine.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” I growled, one hand sliding down to cup her ass, spreading her wider so I could bury myself even further. The way she responded—her back arching, her toes curling—was enough to push my control to the brink.

“Yesss,” she hissed, her voice dripping with unrestrained hunger. “Fill me up. I want everything.” Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from biting down to muffle her cries.

“Of course!”

“HAAAN! HAAAN! YES! MORE!”

Her screams filled the room as I pounded her into the mattress, her body shaking with each forceful thrust. The bed creaked beneath us, the intensity of our movements threatening to collapse it entirely. She writhed, sweat pooling between her breasts, her lips forming incoherent words of pleading and praise.

Seeing her close to her climax, I grasped her arm and turned her around forcefully.

“Get on all fours.”

“Wha..ughn!!”

My grip on her arm remained firm as I turned her, her protests drowned by her own helpless cries as my fingers grazed her swollen clit.

“Get on all fours,” I commanded, my voice edged with hunger.

Her lips parted to form a defiant reply, but all that escaped was a broken whimper as I didn’t give her the time to settle. With an iron grip, I spread her taut, perfect ass cheeks, the heat radiating from her exposed core making my cock throb with impatience. No ceremony, no hesitation—I plunged deep inside her, burying myself to the hilt.

“Haaaaghnnn!!”

Her scream echoed through the room, a sharp cry that quickly turned into a guttural moan, louder than anything I’d ever pulled from her before. Penthesilea’s voice cracked, shaking with every forceful thrust. I didn’t care who might hear us. In this moment, she was mine—an invincible warrior undone by my relentless drive.

I moved with punishing speed, the wet sounds of my pounding hips filling the space alongside her incoherent cries.

PAH! PAH! PAH!

Each slap of flesh against flesh fueled my own primal rhythm. Penthesilea’s knees buckled, her strength faltering, but my hands on her hips ensured she didn’t collapse, jerking her back into place with every shaky attempt at surrender.

“Fuck, Penthesilea…” I growled through gritted teeth, watching her head loll forward, her strong, proud frame now reduced to trembling submission.

“Haaan❤️~~~ Oh gods, yes… ahhhh❤️~~ nghhhnn❤️~~!!” Her broken words came out in an almost delirious stream, her voice betraying the depths of her unraveling.

Her walls gripped me tighter, her body signaling her inevitable release. Sensing her climax approaching, I thrust harder, faster, her slick heat swallowing me greedily. Her cries reached a fever pitch, her entire being trembling beneath me as the tension in her body finally snapped.

“NGHYAAA❤️❤️❤️!!!” Penthesilea’s scream was high-pitched, feminine in a way she had never shown before. Her back arched violently as her orgasm consumed her, her trembling body driving me over the edge. My hands snaked around her, cupping her full breasts, holding her upright as I gave in to the overwhelming need.

My cock throbbed, pulsing deep inside her, and I emptied myself into her quivering womb. Each spurt of heat seemed to echo through her, her walls clamping down rhythmically, milking every last drop from me. Her eyes, half-closed and dazed, flickered with fleeting awareness as her entire body convulsed, lost in the aftermath of pleasure.

I stayed buried within her, still twitching, savoring the sensation of her spasming depths. Beneath us, the once-pristine sheets were a mess of fluids—her virgin blood, our mingled cum, and the remnants of her powerful surrender.

“Haaa…” I exhaled, ragged and breathless, my hands still kneading the softness of her breasts as I supported her boneless frame.

Penthesilea’s head lolled back against my chest, her mouth slightly open, but there was no response. Her strength, her pride, her everything had short-circuited under the weight of what we’d shared.

With that the Amazons Queen was conquered.

°°°°°

While Nathan and Penthesilea shared a restless and turbulent night in the aftermath of their hard-fought victory against the Greeks—a triumph owed largely to Nathan’s efforts—the mood on the Greek side was starkly different. Darkness shrouded their camp, and the once-proud warriors of Greece found themselves in the grip of despair.

In Agamemnon’s opulent yet tense tent, a heavy silence loomed. The rich fabric of the walls muffled the sounds of the camp, making the quiet even more oppressive. The old and venerable Nestor sat hunched, his gnarled hands gripping his staff as though it were the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“I can’t believe it,” Nestor muttered, his voice trembling with disbelief. “Ajax…fallen.”

His words reverberated through the tent, striking each man as a cruel reminder of their shattered pride. Ajax the King of Salamis was no longer there.

Heracles, his massive frame casting an imposing shadow in the dim light, broke the silence. “Jason fell as well,” he said bluntly, his deep voice tinged with frustration.

“He was too arrogant for his own good,” Diomedes remarked, shaking his head in disapproval. His tone was calm but laced with bitterness. “Charging at that man so soon after he’d killed Ajax…what did he expect?”

Jason’s defeat did not surprise them; he had always been more audacious than prudent. But Ajax—mighty Ajax—was a different matter entirely. His loss was a devastating blow, a wound that cut deeply into their morale.

“Who the hell is that new guy?” Menelaus finally demanded, his brows furrowed in anger and confusion. The question that had been simmering in everyone’s minds was now voiced.

Odysseus leaned back and folded his arms, his sharp eyes narrowing as he recalled what little he knew. “A mercenary,” he said. “From another continent, if the rumors are true.” His gaze grew distant as he remembered the brief, chilling glimpse he’d had of the man. Though not as physically imposing as Ajax, the stranger had exuded a fearsome presence—one that made even seasoned warriors hesitate.

“This…Heiron is exceedingly dangerous,” Nestor cautioned, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. “He killed Ajax. Treat him with the same caution you would Hector himself.”

Heracles frowned, his powerful hands clenching into fists. “Should we call Achilles back?” he asked, his deep voice heavy with reluctance. Normally, he would avoid such a suggestion—it would wound Agamemnon’s pride—but the situation was dire. The man who killed Ajax…he felt certain he knew him. A shadow of doubt lingered in his mind, however, for this warrior seemed different. Was it truly him?

As expected, Agamemnon’s glare was icy, his pride wounded by the mere suggestion.

Odysseus sighed audibly, his clever mind already working on a solution. He could see the despair spreading like a plague among the warriors. Something had to be done to restore their spirits, and he had an idea—one he’d been keeping in reserve.

“We must summon Chiron and Asclepius,” he declared, his voice cutting through the murmur of uncertainty.

Gasps filled the room as the significance of his words sank in. Chiron, the revered centaur and legendary teacher of heroes like Achilles, Diomedes and Heracles. Asclepius, also the divine healer—calling upon them would shift the tide.

Agamemnon’s eyes narrowed. “You know where Chiron is?” he asked, his tone sharp with suspicion. Chiron’s disappearance had been a sore point for the Greeks. Despite his unparalleled wisdom and skill, he had remained elusive, frustrating their attempts to secure his aid.

Odysseus met Agamemnon’s gaze unflinchingly. “I do,” he admitted. “I promised to keep his location secret, but we have no choice now.”

Diomedes didn’t seem certain. “Do you think he will fight for us?”

A small, knowing smile played on Odysseus’ lips. “He will,” he said with confidence. “At heart, Chiron cares deeply for Greece. Asclepius, too, owes us his allegiance.”

Heracles, however, remained skeptical. “But Asclepius is the son of Apollo. What if he turns on us and joins the Trojans?”

“You underestimate his love for our people,” Odysseus replied firmly. “And he is indebted to me personally. Trust me, there is no cause for concern.”

The tension in the room eased, if only slightly. With Chiron’s wisdom and Asclepius’ healing, the Greeks would have powerful new allies to replace the losses of Ajax and Jason. For now, hope glimmered faintly in the gloom of their camp.