Witch, Cruel Mermaids, Talking Dead

### Copyright © 2023. This is a copyrighted work. Unauthorized use is prohibited. All rights reserved by the author.

My contribution to the Literotica Contest "Halloween 2023". Supernatural, torturing witches, talking dead, and mermaids with sharp teeth ravenous of human flesh.

You do not need any knowledge of Greek mythology to read this very long tale: 60.000 char. Often my writing is slow and the erotic scenes can take a while to arrive. If you are looking for something hot to give you a quick wank, this is not the right text.

The protagonist, Ulysses, wears a magical chastity device gifted by the goddess Athena: IF THIS FETISH DOES NOT INTRIGUE YOU, avoid wasting your time, there are many other tales more interesting than this one.

Neither ancient Greek nor modern English is my mother tongue, focus on the plot and please forget my mistakes.###

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Chapter 0: prologue.

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Witches, talking dead, magic, killer mermaids, sailor massacres, shapeshifting. I sincerely believe that there are all the ingredients to label this tale as 'Halloween-appropriate', even if it doesn't take place in the century you imagine, nor on the usual date.

Today is Friday, 13 October 2023.

I wish I could tell the reader that the meeting between Ulysses and the Witch takes place on 31 October.

But, as everyone knows, every city in Greece has its calendar. The months have ridiculous names that are difficult to remember, and in any case are not shared uniformly by Athens, Sparta, Mycenae, and Argos. So they are completely useless for us.

Those who study ancient Greece easily distinguish between snowy winter (yes: snow and storms in the Mediterranean) and sultry summer (that of Club Med). With some difficulty, one can associate the rebirth of flowers with Spring (when Persephone reaches her mother, coming out of the Underworld where she has sex with Hades for six consecutive months!) while Autumn is closely linked to the production of WINE, such an important element of Greek civilization that it deserves its own space in the 'Fantasia' movie (1940), with 'The Pastoral Symphony' by Ludwig van Beethoven.

Perhaps one of the greatest legacies inherited from the Roman civilization is the so-called twelve-month calendar, which of course began in March (like the Zodiac) along with the rebirth of Nature: in fact, September was the seventh month and December was the tenth, that of Janus (Januarius) was the eleventh, and that of Fevers (Februarius) was the twelfth, i.e. the last (which also explains why it was shorter. Julius Caesar did not yet know that his name would be made immortal by the famous salad, and he very modestly imposed his own name on the summer month; and his adopted son, Augustus, thought well to do the same with the following month. Fortunately, Nero and Caligula gave it up.

The siege of Troy lasted at least nine years. Odysseus' return journey, is at least as long. Penelope and Ulysses' only son, Telemachus, was an infant when his father went to war. When Ulysses returned to Ithaca, his son was a muscular 19-year-old, raised by his mother and paternal grandfather in respect of his absent father.

No one knows on which day Ulysses met the witch, and then visited the world of the dead. The combination 'Witch+Dead' sounds very Halloweenesque to me.

No expertise in Greek mythology or ancient history is needed to read this tale. But I must warn that it is not the usual story. There are no lawyers or mobile phones; quarrels often end in murderous deaths; aristocrats own male and female slaves, not by metaphor but by precise legal stipulation. Above all, some gods and demigods interact with humans by performing magic and miracles of all kinds; and there are concrete, real monsters, who are not housewives wearing costumes but real monsters with fangs, jaws, claws, and tentacles.

Spooky? Perhaps more than necessary. I don't know whether to encourage the hesitant reader to continue. Perhaps this narrative is too scary for you, dear reader. And the steamy sex scenes might be too late to arrive, after pages and pages of boring descriptions of landscapes and emotions.

Ah! I almost forgot: FETISH category. A spell cast by the goddess Athena has locked Ulysses' penis in a magical golden chastity cage, which only a woman can open! So, IF LONG AND BORING NARRATIONS WITH FORCED MALE CHASTITY DO NOT INTRIGUE YOU, DON'T READ AT ALL!

[Dear Reader: will I have written enough disclaimers? IDK].

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Chapter 1- Once upon a Time... happily ever after.

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Once upon a time, Queen Penelope was drenched in sweat. For almost twenty years she had been waiting for her king's return to Ithaca, and the carved wooden phallus figurines had never been enough for her, nor the consoling visits of the spirit of the goddess Athena.

Now a flesh-and-blood Ulysses (and boner!) penetrated her gently but also forcefully. It was not for nothing that he was considered one of the most valiant but also the cleverest of Greece's heroes!

At first, he would pamper her with hours of foreplay, devoting much time to the thighs and outer walls of her magnificent pussy. Penelope remembered that Ulysses was phenomenal down under: but that was not what she NEEDED that night. She strangled him by the neck and said: "You! After all this delay, don't delay any longer! Fuck me with all the roughness of a hundred furious and horny sailors!", and now he was ramming her pussy relentlessly.

Even though the queen was now over forty and had already given birth to a son, it had been over twenty years since anyone had fucked that pussy. She looked like she had the vagina of an eighteen-year-old in full hormonal storm. She was panting, screaming, scratching his back, arching her back to receive the full length of his penis until the bales slammed against her regal but willing buttocks.

After twenty years of longing for that fuck, it only took the queen a few minutes to orgasm. She ordered her king: "Flood me with cum! I want to feel your hot jets inside my soul, which has been cold for too long!" Immediately, ropes and ropes of boiling cum flooded her womb. It had been over twenty years since she had felt that warm sensation and big tears gushed from young Penny's eyes as if she had returned for a moment to the newly-aged bride who had chosen Ulysses among dozens of suitors.

The cleverest male in the entire Mediterranean displayed extreme eloquence: "You weep, my Queen?"

"They are tears of joy, my husband. I had promised the goddess Athena not to weep when I met you again, but I had not promised the same after my vagina had once more received your seed. Now I can cry: from my eyes and pussy."

"I swear I will never leave again. I will never get on a boat again, I will never leave our island."

And they lived happily ever after, in a prosperous and peaceful kingdom. One hundred years later, the Goddess Athena herself accompanied Thanathos, Hermes, and Charon, each in his official role as psychopomp to accompany souls into the afterlife. The two died at the same time and Athena transformed them into a constellation made up of two groups of stars: navigators all over the world can identify Penelope, who is always motionless in the center of the North, and Ulysses, whose cock is always points towards Penelope's mouth (some ignorant people call those two constellations 'Ursa Minor' or 'Little Dipper' or even 'Little Pot', but fortunately you readers now know the true origin of the constellations).

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And they lived happily ever after in a prosperous and peaceful kingdom.

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At this point, a reader will ask: "But how? A fairy tale that begins with the ending?" Once upon a time, and after twenty lines, happy ever after? And we already have an Appendix, after only a few lines of the plot? Where are the witches, the talking dead, and the cruel killer mermaids who lured sailors to maul them with their sharp jaws?

OK, OK, my bad. Forgive the narrator: ancient Greek is not my mother tongue, focus on the plot and not the mistakes.

The first threat was the cruel killer Mermaids with their sharp fangs. But first, we need to know what the Gift of Athena was.

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Chapter 2. The Gift of Athena.

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Odysseus King of Ithaca had helped Agamemnon win the Siege of Troy, by deception. A man of great ingenuity, he had deceived the defenders by using a gigantic Wooden Horse.

From that day on, the name 'wooden horse' will forever be associated with sexual torture, torment against bound and whipped females, and BDSM sessions as long as a 20-year siege.

But the Olympian gods were angry: against all Greeks, but especially against Odysseus, who was considered the most cunning and consequently the most responsible.

The return voyages of the victorious heroes were all marred by grief and sorrow. The word Nostalgia comes from 'Nostoi' and 'Algos': combining Suffering and Return Journeys.

Agamemnon ('he who was very determined') claimed for himself the 18-year-old princess Cassandra, daughter of King Priam, who had been taken prisoner. It would have been possible to free her, even without the payment of a ransom, as a pure gesture of courtesy to the vanquished. Instead, Agamemnon wanted to humiliate her. He declared that she would be his personal slave and that every night he would make her swallow his cum. As a demonstration, he ordered his squires to strip her naked and force her to kneel, chained with heavy chains in front of the other captive women, noble or commoner. While Princess Cassandra wept and begged for mercy from the Greek king, Agamemnon humiliated her, and degraded her in every way, forcing her to suck his cock, naked and chained. A goddess from Mount Olympus saw the impious act and decided to wait for the girl's reaction before intervening.

The arrogant Agamemnon cummed on her face, hair, and tits, then laughed loudly, pleased to have humiliated the daughter of the king of his enemies. But Cassandra had prophetic powers, and she saw the future (even though Apollo had cursed her: therefore, no one believed her), and in a trembling voice, she shouted to her rapist and all the Greeks that everyone's return journey would be marred by mourning, slaughter, and betrayal.

Dear reader. In ancient Greece, epic poetry was in verse: an itinerant cantor would cheer the villagers in the squares, or the nobles in the high interior colonnade of a royal palace. Sometimes the singers were men with baritone voices, sometimes they were women with soprano voices. Often the audience would interrupt, interacting with the cantor: "Hey, you, traveling aoidos or bohemian rhapsode! Now you have just named Diana, tell us the story of her Callisto too, the most beautiful girl!" And the bard, cantor, and skald, would add a digression to please the audience. Thus, it will often happen that in the text you will find the narrator asking questions, beginning with the epic formula "Dear Reader": which will be used for a long time over the centuries, even Benjamin Franklin used it in the Letters signed with the female pseudonym Mrs. Silence Dogood, in 1722 newspaper "New-England Courant, (almost ten years before his "Poor Richard's Almanack" What do you say, dear reader? Does this historical reference appear to you as ... what? A literal ANACRONISM? Oh, I don't understand this word: it sounds Greek to me. But consider that gods, titans, monsters, and demigods live partially outside of Time and that with foreknowledge and premonition, they sometimes know things that humans don't yet know (e.g.: "Indoor plumbing... it's gonna be big!").

From Mount Olympus, a deity moved against Agamemnon. But he laughed derisively: he still did not know what end awaited him, and which Olympian deity would kill him that very morning, on the very beach before his departure, without allowing him to return home. Meanwhile, in the Royal Palace of Crete, everyone believed that the king had been dead for several years. The widowed Queen Clytemnestra ruled wisely, having learned the art of politics from her father Tindaros king of Sparta; she was assisted by her young lover Aegisthus, commander of the City guard, they ate fruit and drank Greek wine, and all lived happily ever after. But that is another story.

Ulysses stood at the bow of the flagship, gazing at the waves of the sea. He was naked, but it was not the feeling of cold that made him tremble: it was the memory of Cassandra's prophecy. Ulysses had long understood that the gods were plotting against his navigation: every time they approached Ithaca, a storm dragged them away.

The king's back was erect.

The cock could not exhibit a similar erection.

A narrow cage of golden bars encircled the entire penis and was held by a ring around the testicles. It had been a gift from the one Goddess who protected him, heavenly-eyed Athena.

All the sailors had seen it and knew it was magic, even if they did not know how it worked.

On the ship, Ulise's companions believed that that golden jewel around his cock (which had suddenly appeared hairless overnight) was one of the king's usual tricks: chronic liar and Machiavellian deceiver.

However, it was made of gold and was therefore precious.

It was as thin as a tattoo. But it glittered in the sun or torchlight. No one had ever seen a tattoo glitter. It was probably made of metal.

The gods were capable of creating wafer-thin webs of metal. Once Hephaestus, the lame god of blacksmiths, had constructed a metal net so thin that it seemed transparent. And when the wife Zeus had assigned him made him cuckold, cheating him with a taller, stronger, more muscular male, Hephaestus had snapped the metal net. Then he had summoned all the gods and demigods. They could all see through the very thin wire mesh, that Ares god of fury in battle was fucking Venus, goddess of sexual pleasure, from behind. She had her mouth wide open and her tongue out, and the wire mesh had immobilized her in that obscene pose. Ares, on the other hand, was grinding his teeth, as if he were performing a titanic feat (as if it were difficult to penetrate Venus' wet vagina!).

But the net that wrapped the king's penis was not transparent: it was made of gold.

Often, Ulysses appeared more concentrated, more alert: he accurately assessed the position of the sun and the orientation of the constellations at night.

But sometimes, the jewel would disappear. On those occasions, Ulysses would yawn and say he was going to the royal tent to sleep. But everyone knew he was only going to masturbate because they would hear unmistakable noises and then he would either fall asleep or come out with a big smile.

Or did he?

No.

In reality, it was the goddess Athena who appeared to him, often in the guise of his wife Penelope. Ulysses recognized every detail: the taste of her vagina, the stubborn reluctance of her clitoris, the tenacious stiffness of her large nipples, the soft caress of her hair, the scent of her firm tits despite her years, the tight embrace of her rosebud, the taste of her saliva on his tongue.

One night Ulysses pleasured Athena once more, then took advantage of her semi-conscious state to confront her.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Why, at this hour', or why, 'like this', my dear worshipper?" Athena had regained her form and was neither tired nor sweaty: she looked as fresh as a rose.

"Why do you wake me in the middle of the night, or why do you arrive mid-morning, unannounced, for no reason?"

"Do you think you are the only one awake at this hour, Man of Many Wits? Or do you think there is another person awake right now, in their thalamus carved on an oak stump, half unconscious from the orgasm you just gave her?"

"What?!"

"I am a goddess, my dear friend. I am here with you... and I am there with her. She has prayed to me so much over the years. She has prayed to me to raise her son in education, for I am the goddess of wisdom. She has prayed to me to save you from all those battles because I am the goddess of war. And she refrained from asking for something for herself all these years because I am the goddess of patience. But..."

"But?"

"But your comrades came back and said the siege was over. One by one they came back (not all of them happy, not all of them alive now, but they came back). Only you are missing. Everyone leaves you for dead, or missing in action. And your wife has started praying to Athena, the sapiosexual goddess."

"Sapiosexual?"

"Uh, great gods, for the smartest man in this century, you are a constant disappointment! Athena, the goddess of intelligent sex! Only a perfect pig like Paris could award the first prize to Venus ... Do you know what I and the others nickname her? The goddess of sexually transmitted diseases, ha, ha! It's no coincidence that her lover is Mars, who is a professional soldier... For pity's sake, I also deal in war strategies, but on a completely different level, you see..."

Puffing impolitely, Ulysses interrupted the Goddess: at that moment he urgently needed to know news about his wife, and not about internal quarrels between gods.

"And how does she pray to you, my wife?"

"She has a statue representing you. Standing, with a shield. It's carved on an elephant's tusk, in ivory. which, seen from a distance, might look like a seven-inch cylinder... with two big apples at the base, representing the shield and chariot, let's say... She looks a lot like you, I must say, the Phoenician artist did a really good job. She kneels in front of a small temple, and strokes her pussy to make it wet as she thinks of you and invokes your name..., then she slips this ivory figurine inside and moves it back and forth as she contracts her vaginal muscles, and strokes her clitoris as she feels your presence inside her pussy. And she begs me to confirm that you are still alive."

"And what do you do?"

"I answer her prayers. I appear in the room with your body, with the scar on your leg from the wound the boar made, with your beard and your smell. I lift her with your strong arms and make her feel your muscles. She kisses me (kisses YOU), recognizes the taste of your saliva and those tricks with her tongue that only a great liar would know how to do."

"And then?"

"And then I am YOU. She spreads her thighs and invites you. Her pussy is already a puddle of moist liquor, and I do what you always did: I sneak my head between her legs and lick it, and eat it until her moans become more and more intense. Then I do what you always do: I make her wait."

"You are an evil goddess!"

"Me? You are evil, little man! I do to Penelope what you usually do to her! Nothing more and nothing less. You, with your cunning, interrupt her oral pleasure just as she is about to orgasm, and you stand up."

"NO! Don't say that!"

"Yes. You know what YOU are going to do, don't you? But she knows it too: that's why she begged me. You have always been the genius of tease and denial: that is not 'lying', because she knows what you are doing to her. You take her wrists and tie them behind her back so she can't touch her pussy. You know that she must remain tense and desperate: and I guarantee that she is very tense and almost completely desperate.

After you tie her up, you put your cock in front of her mouth and give her the orders. "Suck me, slut. Show me that you are the dirtiest whore in all of Greece. You must suck so hard you'll make the walls come tumbling down. Lick my balls and while you're down there, lick my rosebud. Say you are my slave!"

"Don't talk to my wife like that, Goddess:"

"It's not me: it's you. She's known you for years, she knows what she has to expect from you, and if I acted differently, she'd get suspicious."

"At least you don't make her swallow..."

"Of course! I take her tresses to force her into deepthroat, and as I insult her, I cum in her throat and order her to swallow it all. Then I leave her still tied up, without the possibility of masturbating: sometimes she tries to rub herself against the furniture or the sheets, but I spank her gently to remind her that it is forbidden."