Trials of Penny the Faithful Queen

Ancient Greece: Suitor accused of cheating Ulysses' wife.

Tag: cuckold, cheating, Bull, hotwife, masturbation, Sybian, wooden horse, monogamy, CRIME AND PUNISHMENT, CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 2024

### Disclaimer. Some Crimes are obvious to all, yet they do not receive Punishment. Other Crimes are secret, but someone falsely accuses an innocent person, and the innocent person suffers Punishment for no reason.

My contribution to the

Crime & Punishment 2024 Story Event

. Remember to put a good grade on the best-written stories.

Others have already told Penny's story, but by pure chance, I bought an unpublished pergamine fragment in a Portobello Road old market, between a statue of rare alabaster, and a penis used by Shelley (carved in marble). It was all written in ancient Greek (a language I don't know at all!) but to make it easier for the modern reader, when I didn't understand something, I added anachronisms and modern-day vocabulary, with words like Hotwife and Cuckold that sound very different in Greek ("Thermégynaike" and "Keroùchos Kandàules").

Anyone familiar with the legend of the Labyrinth knows that Greek mythology contains many Bulls ("Taùros") who impregnate married women, generating devilish monstrosities hungry for virginal flesh. Yet, no knowledge is needed to read this story. Penny is Penelope (as Pitstop: a damsel in distress), and Odysseus is Ulysses: as Granted.

Neither English nor Greek are languages I know: please forgive my mistakes.###

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Chapter 1: Introduction (strictly speaking: introducing the C plug into the V slot).

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The erect penis was as hard as marble. Penny had greased the inner walls of the vagina with her fingers with warm water and scented oil.

Then she spread her thighs wide and impaled herself on that very hard cock, holding on to the equine statue. In front of her was a marble bust that had been carved and then painted in vivid colors to recall her husband's likeness when he had left twenty years earlier: the dark beard, the curly hair, the strong shoulders, the black eyes like volcanic Obsidian. He was a volcano of ideas: Ulysses, the man of multifaceted wits.

Ogling that marble face with half-closed eyes, the queen groaned, screamed, cursed, and associated profanity with her husband's name, for he was far away.

For twenty years.

It was not his fault: he had tried everything to escape the war, had even pretended to be mad. But that damned Agamemnon (oh! Pig face! Dog dung!).

But she needed to get relief that night, and riding the statue with an erect cock had seemed the most effective idea for that time.

"Ah! I enjoy it! It hurts, but the pleasure is infinitely greater than the pain. Oh, my Goddess, I am about to orgasm!"

[Scholar's translation note. "Orgasming" is an ancient Greek word meaning to reach the pinnacle of pleasure to the point of losing Reason. Dear reader, I will try to keep the Greek words to a minimum, but "orgasm" and "democracy" you should know them].

In the secret of the master bedroom (well: the bedroom of the King of Ithaca!), no one had ever entered except her husband and a single servant, the elderly nurse Euriclea who had nursed Ulysses when he was a baby (his mother had died in childbirth).

No one knew the secrets of that room, and the formidable inventions the cleverest man in all Greece had forged.

No one knew how many orgasms the queen gave herself, masturbating nonstop.

The bed, for example: had been carved inside the trunk of a giant olive tree blessed by Athena. A tree still alive, with its roots in the floor.

The wooden horse: Ulysses had a real passion for wooden horses!

Now he had been absent for over twenty years, but Penelope was convinced that he still played at building wooden horses.

Ulysses always knew which model of the horse was most appropriate on different occasions. For a child, he would carve a horse mounted on two half-wheels, to rock him back and forth (just as her pelvis rocked back and forth in spasmodic pursuit of an orgasm!).

Ulysses had built a wooden horse that could be an instrument of torture: Penelope rode it, without stirrups or supports, dropping the whole weight of her body on the soft flesh of her vagina.

The back of the wooden horse had no comfortable saddle.

It ended like a wedge, with a sharp profile though smooth and made slippery by olive oil.

The queen could not sit comfortably on that throne: the weight of her body, with no other hold, all fell on her big lips. Her arms could not help her: either he tied her wrists behind her back, or he tied them to the ceiling. But even then, the arms could give her only a brief moment of relief, which would make it even more painful to get down on the back of the horse.

Sometimes the king would whip her, sometimes (more often) she herself would beg for the lashes.

After a few minutes, the rush of blood would force her to beg for mercy.

Then the king would lift her in his arms, lay her on the nuptial thalamus, and eat her pussy for hours: then he would fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

Who knows what other uses the polymorphous inventor would come up with, to use a wooden horse even during the siege of Troy?

Another invention, he created for when his wife needed relief while her husband was hunting boar (or after he, severely wounded in one leg by his tusks, could not satisfy her until fully recovered). Lightning had struck down an olive tree trunk, very hard. Ulysses carried it inside the royal bedchamber and carved it with fine tools that he said he had purchased in the Libyan city of Sybaris but were actually a gift from the goddess Athena.

Finally, he presented her with the finished product. It was a cylinder sculpted like a man's abdomen with a six-pack of abdominal muscles and strong pectorals with raised nipples; two branches simulated shoulders but were just the right size for Penny's feminine hands.

Above the abs, another carved branch provided a protuberance that the queen seemed to recognize. It was an exact copy of her husband's penis.

She could recognize the venous bulges, the taut frenulum, and the cone-shaped chapel, easy to insert but very stimulating during penetration.

He pointed to his sculpture with a smile: "Sybaritic Anthropomorphic Saddle, that's the name I gave it. There is only one specimen, and it is yours."

"You are the most caring husband in the world, Ulysses. If you make me a promise, I will accept this gift of yours...Sybawhat...bah! I will call it Syb-An, of long there is already this bump, ha, ha!"

"What promise?"

"You promised me that you will always come back to me. If you go hunting, if you go to war, you must always come back. You swore it to me on our wedding day."

"Yes. I know. I don't want to go off to any war..."

"... In fact, that's why they call you the smartest man..."

"... But the soothsayers have already predicted that Agamemnon will succeed in forcing me. I have a trick in mind, but I am not sure it will work."

"Just promise me that you will come back, against all odds and trials. Promise me that you will not leave me a widow."

"I promise."

Outside, the sky was clear, and Apollo drove the chariot of the Sun without a single cloud. Yet, a bolt of lightning rattled the silence of that Greek day: a flash of lightning, and immediately afterward the rumble of thunder. The Olympian gods had heard the promise.

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Penelope was fertile. After Ulysses plowed and sowed her, she became pregnant through the blessings of the goddess Athena. After nine months of pussy licked, frequently flavored fuckings, tits sucked, long kisses, and a big spoon in bed, Penny gave birth to her firstborn: a son, Telemachus.

But soon after that the trials began.

A few weeks later, all the leaders of the Greek army arrived in Ithaca. To avoid the summon, Ulysses pretended to be mad. He plowed the infertile sand of the seashore.

But Agamemnon took the infant and placed him right in front of the plow blade.

Like Hercules, Ulysses was at a crossroads.

Kill your only son, or confess that you were feigning insanity for draft dodging? Ulysses was too smart, and he agreed to enlist, even though he feared that the war would not last only ten days.

The war lasted ten years, and because of a curse from the Sea God, Poseidon, Ulysses' travels lasted another ten years.

Yet... the goddess Athena found a magical way to keep the King and Queen in communication.

In the 10th century BCE, there were not all the modern devices for remote sex.

Athena would appear as a Vision before Ulysses, pretending to be Penny. And she would appear to Penny, with the body of Ulysses. And they both knew, through the Goddess, that the other was still alive and still in love with their spouse!

That evening, Goddess Athena had not manifested herself, and Penny had decided to masturbate on the Sybian, as befits a 39-year-old single woman.

She spread her thighs and straddled the saddle with her cock.

It was ironic, to think that that position had been suggested to her by a Trojan woman during an ambuscade. It had been Andromache, the wife of Hector, the muscular crown prince of the Kingdom of the Troad: the first of King Priam's hundred sons.

Much had happened that week. Helen had abandoned her husband and fled with Paris, Hector's younger brother.

If Penelope was the wisest of the Spartan princesses, Helen was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman in all the world. Dear reader, think of the three most beautiful women you have ever seen: then add up the most beautiful details of each. The result will be one-tenth the beauty of Helen.

Penny chased away those thoughts. Today it was important to achieve orgasm!

The queen reached out a hand and took a silver cup filled with red wine. "Ah, no, dear my anxious worries, there is nothing that can stop me this evening!"

[translator's note. Alcoholism should be opposed as a social plague (also because it makes one fat and shortens longevity), but the Queen drank wine mixed with water. But since she rarely drank, even a few drops were able to make her euphoric!]

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Chapter 2. "Agnitio" (aka how to recognize an unrecognizable man).

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While the Queen was still numb from post-orgasmic bliss (and still impaled on the saddle's marble cock), she heard a knock at the door.

Only one person in the entire Manor was allowed to knock: the elderly nurse Euriclea.

Ulysses' mother had died in childbirth, and Euriclea had performed the functions of a mother. But she was not a mother-in-law, either in the legal or moral sense.

Penelope had allowed Euriclea into the room even though she was masturbating, like a queen who does not mind servants: whereas if Euriclea had been the mother-in-law, it would have been embarrassing.

"Your Majesty! Great news! Utmost urgency!"

"What the fuck is going on?" [translator's note: Penny was very polished and elegant in public, but in the bedroom, she cursed profanities like a mule carter).

"Your Majesty! The King has returned!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, you old cunt! The Return of the King? What about the Fellowship of the Ring?" mocked Penny.

"I mean it, your majesty! I recognized it! And the dog Argo, too!"

"The dog? But if he is over twenty years old and blind in both eyes from glaucoma, that sack of shit, how did he recognize the King?"

"Your Highness: the dog Argo died today. Some respect."

"Ah."

"There was this beggar, half bald and with a white beard, smelling of goat urine. He walked up to the door, and he probably didn't realize that the furry fleabag was a live dog. You know very well that Argo barks at everyone! And the damn Suitors kick him. But when that dirty, sweaty beggar with the few dirty blond hairs approached..."

"Halt. Blond? My Ulysses is not blond.

The only blond on the Achaean fleet was Achilles who looked like a girl! And also that Patroclus, who they said was his cousin, but they always slept in the Pavilion naked..."

"Your Majesty. The dog did not bark! The dog was guying and wagging his tail, like when he went boar hunting together with the King twenty years ago!"

"But if that dog is blind, and the nostrils were clogged with the stench of urine--"

"The soul. The soul of that beggar is that of Ulysses."

"Bah. I don't believe you. But you know what queens say in such cases -- 'Wash him, and lead him to my Pavilion Tent,' chop, chop, move, old nurse!"

"A very predictable command from Your Majesty. But I have already performed my check, for under the guise of washing his feet for the Duty of Hospitality (Xenia, named after the queen who first imposed it, Xena Warrior Princess), I looked at his calf, and it has the same scar made by a boar's tusk!"

"You say it's him?" the voice of Penny trembled. Until that moment, the mind had denied hope, but at that point, all defenses were about to collapse. "What if he is an impostor who just wants to usurp the throne?"

"Your Highness. No impostor would arrive with a completely unrecognizable face. Impostors try to look like the person they want to replace: like Doppelganger, like Amphitryon, like those clones generated by Artificial Intelligence."

"Wait, what?"

"This one looks like Leo Decaprius, only he doesn't go with 25-year-old girls. His type looks more like a 39-year-old with perky boobs if you know what I mean."

"Decaprius? That sounds like an Italic name. My Ulysses is Greek and has black hair."

"Exactly. No impostor would make such a gross mistake. I beg Your Majesty. The handmaids are washing him. May I bring him here to you as soon as he is dried?"

"NO! No one can enter this room. Bring him--into the western garden--is the sun already set?"

"No, there is still light. But it won't be enough to watch..."

"I don't want to 'Ogle it. Ogleing does not suit a Queen. I have another test in mind."

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Chapter 3. Wash him and lead him to my Pavilion.

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The Queen, seated on the throne, had the sunset behind her back. The red and purple light was illuminated by golden gleams on the farthest clouds.

The Beggar was wrapped in a white cotton cloth. Blond hair, a childish face: if he was an impostor, he was the least talented in the world.

An unpleasant, high-pitched voice came out of that Beggar's mouth. "That old lady seemed interested in the scar I have on my calf..."

"Bullshit. The King has been ten years in siege along with hundreds of other men (poor desperate men forced by Agamemnon's pride!), anyone could have observed Ulysses' scars, and anyone could have faked the same scar with a hunting knife. I don't give a shit about your fake scars, blondie. And next time, inform yourself: Ulysses has black hair."

The Beggar smiled, admiring the Queen's wisdom. "Then should I leave?"

"No. You see, in these years of loneliness, I have become a real slut. A slut, a cheap whore. Do you know how many men I've fucked while that asshole was away? Tens of thousands.

Do you think mine is a Crime?

Do you think a wife should remain faithful to her idiot asshole husband, who sails all over the seven seas fucking sluts and mermaids?

I thought so the first year... then I gave in to temptation.

I got fucked by all the shepherds from the surrounding islands. Even two at a time: spit-roasted, like shepherds do when they cook a lamb.

A hard cock in my mouth and a hard cock stuck in my anus.

Now it's your turn. You've just arrived, my handmaids have washed you, fuck me here before the sunset. But first, I will order them to transport the king's bed here, from the master bedroom--I like Ulysses to be cheated right in his bed, for each fuck I have carved a notch in the backboard, and it will be funny to see his face when he sees hundreds of notches carving the wood! Ha, ha!"

The Beggar shook his head in denial. His voice was baritone and calm, like Ulysses' twenty years earlier. "None of those words you spoke are true, Penny. No one can carry the bed into the garden, because I carved it out of an olive tree trunk with its roots in the floor.

No one knows that in my room I have created for you, a horse for torture and a Sybian for pleasure.

Only the Goddess Athena knows that you and I knew we were alive, through the appearances of her.

I will fuck you, Queen Penelope. But not now. The King has returned, but first I must rid my Manor of all suitors and traitors. I have listened to the chatter and giggles of the handmaids, and I know which whores have betrayed loyalty to the Queen to let themselves be fucked by the tallest suitor or the one with the largest flock.

I will fuck you, forever, for dozens of years. We will have eight more children, we will always be together, and I will never leave. No pride of idiot leader will be able to steal more of my time with some useless war."

The face had changed.

The beard appeared dark, curls covered the forehead. The black eyes shone as Obsidian still as they once did.

Penny saw Ulysses again, and they both wept for all the time that had passed.

The embrace lasted a very long time, or maybe a few seconds that seemed a very long time.

Penny said, "How are we going to do this?"

"Together."

"But they are hundreds!"

"Yeah, like the Thebans met by Leonidas!"

"Wait, what?"

"Nothing, too much talk with the seers. Here's the plan."

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Chapter 4: Execution. ("I love it when a plan comes together": Hannibal, 983 BCE).

Queen Penelope's son arrived: a boy now already 21 years old, who had never known his father. To prevent the Suitors from killing him, Penelope had pretended to send him to the other polis of Greece: and all his father's friends had trained him: Nestor in wisdom, Diomedes in javelin throwing, Ajax Telamonius in weightlifting, Macaon in pharmacology.

For the past few months, he had been a Guest in the Royal Mansion of Queen Clytemnestra, or as they used to say in the family, "Aunt Clit": she had taught him many things, including the art of governing the administration of an island's farms and other things as well. But that is another story.

Telemachus looked with obvious disdain at the Beggar who reeked of goat urine. But his mother, Queen Penelope, laid a firm hand on the boy's strong shoulder and said to the young Prince:

"There's a plan in everything, KID, and I love it when a plan comes together."

Surprised by this erudite quotation of a Hannibal phrase already referred to by Hesiod and later also by Lucian of Samosata ("The Dialogues of the Dead," 983 BCE), Telemachus lowered his brow.

"As You wish, my Queen," said the son.

Penny and the Beggar stared into each other's eyes.

Neither said a word.

She retreated along with the handmaids to prepare for her appearance. As she walked with long strides the Queen was mulling over the most recent offense she had received from the most arrogant of the Suitors, Antinous who had dared to challenge her authority, revealing that a handmaiden had testified that the cloth the Queen wove was then undone during the night.

As Thucydides wrote, "You dare challenge Me, the daughter of the king of Sparta? As you said, "This town isn't big enough for two supervillains..."... Oh you're a villain, alright. Just not a super one. And I can guess what he may answer, "Yeah? What's the difference?" "PRESENTATION!"

The Queen's thoughts were so intense, it made her gorgeous forehead wrinkle.

With a gesture, Penelope ordered a handmaiden to sprinkle her chest with perfumed oil. The queen stared into the eyes of the vulgar girl: she wore a necklace too precious for an illiterate peasant girl. Already other clues had pointed to her as the spy who betrayed the secret: now too expensive a necklace and too mocking a smile exposed her to the wrath of Justice.