Work Text:
Antinous stood in the doorway to Penelope’s weaving room, where the half-finished shroud was stretched taut upon the loom.
She tried to slip past him, but he grabbed her and held her fast.
“Stop it! Let me go.”
Instead of letting her go, Antinous tied her arms behind her, and used a rope to make a choke collar around her neck.
“So this is what you’ve been up to while we’ve been waiting for you to choose one of us as husband,” Antinous accused. “This is what’s going to happen. We’ve waited long enough. We’ve decided we’re all going to share you now. You’ve been weaving and unweaving this thing for years, and now you’re going to be our fucktoy for the same length of time. Since I found you out, I’m going to be first. Medon, go tell the others to come to the lady’s chamber.”
Zeus, grant me revenge.
When about a dozen of the suitors had crowded around, Antinous used his blade to cut off Penelope’s clothes. He bound her legs so she couldn’t kick and stood behind her holding her arms while they all mocked her. They touched all the parts of her body none but a husband must touch, and they talked about what they were going to do to her, to punish her for deceiving them. Eventually they threw her onto the work table. They bound her legs wide apart, and tied her arms over her head.
Antinous wasted no time after that. He showed her his cock, long and stiff with arousal, and thrust it into her at once. She was dry and unaroused, so the penetration was painful, but Antinous didn’t care, or perhaps he likes the idea of fucking her without preparation. She was glad of his disinterest. The act would have been even more horrifying if he had tried to do something pleasing.
She imagined his naked body hanging on the citadel wall, impaled through the belly by a mighty spear, but still alive. She nailed his balls to the same wall, relishing his pleas and cries of pain. Then, using her flaying knife, she began skinning him — first the thighs, then the nipples and chest.
She’d been kind to Medon, her slave, paying generously for him so his mother and sister would have a little to live on. Despite his tender bow mouth and his long, pretty cock, she’d never forced him to service her or a guest. But he had been her betrayer, seeing her at the loom, then running to tell Antinous, whom he believed was his lover.
“Since you were the one who exposed her treachery, you can have her next,” said Antinous, the ever-generous, after he’d finished raping her.
Medon pulled her to the edge of the table until her head was hanging off. He used a device that forced her mouth open and thrust his cock down her throat. Her tits had always fascinated him. She would catch him staring at them, licking his lips. Now as he used her mouth he slapped her breasts back and forth and sucked her nipples. At the end, he pulled out and his sperm spattered onto them.
Zeus, bring me revenge.
He was restrained to a platform in the Labyrinth, screaming as the Minotaur forced his horse-cock inside his ass. When he’d satisfied his lust, he began to feast, first tearing off the cock and testicles with his serrated teeth. He liked his meat fresh and flavored with pain and terror, so he kept his food alive for days, seasoning the wounds with salt and vinegar.
The rest of the suitors had drawn straws. Phemius had her from behind on her elbows and knees. When he was finished in her cunt he shoved his thick cock into her ass, despite protests from the others that he’d already had his turn. The dry fuck was excruciating for her, although Phemius’s obscene groans told her he was enjoying it.
Zeus, if you ever burned with the fury of one who is wronged, let me have revenge.
Phemius was restrained to a chair. She had wrapped the thinnest of his lyre strings around his throat and was using a key to twist the two ends together, tightening them a tiny bit at a time, until the wire strings began to cut into his throat, deeper and deeper, the blood dripping down his neck and onto his bare chest. She left him half-alive and withdrew to a dark cranny. She knew she wouldn’t have to wait long before the first ravens came.
She’d thought Eurymachus one of the less offensive of the suitors, one who sometimes tried to curb their excesses. But he was now standing over her. He looked almost regretful, but his eyes were gleaming with lust.
“Please forgive me, Penelope, my love,” he said. “I’ve burned for you so long. I was sure you’d choose me. I’ve come to think of you as my own. I can’t stand by and watch them use you.”
The feeling of hope that he might put an end to the ordeal lasted only seconds. Then he climbed on top of her and crushed her body and her mouth with his. His tongue rooted in her mouth in a blasphemous mockery of the marriage rites, and then the pain came as he forced his cock into her bruised and raw cunt. He set a slow rhythm, but every thrust burned, and he gripped her so tight, she knew he’d leave his handprints on her hips.
Forgive him?
She pictured him tied in the dog yard, on his hands and knees, with the fluids from a bitch in heat slathered on his asshole, The big war dogs snarled over him, licked at him, and then the fiercest dog mounted him, forcing his huge knot inside. When Eurymachus opened his mouth to scream, the dog handler stuffed it with his cock.
Zeus, help me wreak revenge upon them.