Chapter 1

Samantha lay back in the bath, letting the perfumed foam gently surround her. She ran her hand luxuriantly over the black marble tiles that made up the wall.

This is really the way to travel, she mused.

The air-conditioner hummed busily, hard at work sucking up the excess moisture in the air, while the slow roll of the boat sent little waves rippling across the bath. When her father had told her, a month before, that the whole family was going for a three-week holiday to the fabled island of Capri in the Mediterranean, she'd had her doubts. Somehow a holiday with her mother and father hadn't sounded like much fun.

Samantha smiled. She really needn't have worried: from the moment they boarded the luxury cruise-liner Eurapes at New York, she knew she was going to enjoy herself. Samantha came from a fairly wealthy family and was used to good living but here was luxury beyond her wildest dreams. The first-class suite she shared with her parents was palatial; great velvet drapes, for instance, and real silk sheets on the king-size beds. Then there was the thrill of sitting at the Captain's table for meals with all the officers competing for the honor of taking her into dinner every night, not to mention the fun she was having flirting with them all.

Now, on this last evening before the ship docked in Naples, the crowning glory: the great fancy dress ball with the Captain himself partnering her.

Samantha relaxed, letting the warmth penetrate deep into her body. She moved luxuriously, looking down at the way her breasts rose like twin mountains out of the foam-covered water. Slowly she brought up her hands and started massaging the nipples, feeling them grow taut and hard under her fingers. A thrill went through her body and she shivered slightly with subconscious excitement. Samantha had never been with a man. Somehow during her strict and supervised childhood she had been made aware that sex for sex's sake was dirty. Sex was only something that was tolerated as a prelude to a happy marriage and childbirth. All the same, the feel of her fingers on her lithe young body gave her little quivers of excitement. Almost at once she suppressed the thought as unworthy and let her hands sink gently under the perfumed water.

"Hurry up, Sammy, it's getting late." Her mother's voice sounded from behind the door.

"Alright, Mummy. Won't be a minute."

Samantha slowly stretched and then stepped out of the bath. The deep pile rug felt soft beneath her feet and as she walked over to the mirror, the remainder at the foam tickled as it gently coursed down her body. She looked at herself appraisingly in the mirror, well pleased with what she saw. A tall girl, nearly five feet nine, with a mop of unruly red hair. She had long supple legs and breasts that were full and well developed, forming an almost perfect curve that was accentuated by the white strips where her bikini had prevented the sun from tanning them to the same color as the rest of her bronzed body.

Although Samantha was only nineteen, her features were of the sort that made it difficult to tell her age, she could have been almost anything from seventeen to twenty-seven.

She moved up closer to the mirror, tossing her hair back angrily when she saw that her nose was once again covered in freckles.

Damn, she thought as she picked up a towel and started to dry herself. Why does the sun always break me out like this?

Half an hour later, her minor irritation long forgotten, she was ready. Her parents had already gone on ahead, leaving her alone in the cabin. Not that Samantha minded, it would give her an excellent opportunity to make a star entrance. She had decided to go to the fancy-dress ball as Snow White, mainly as it saved her the trouble of having to make a costume. Snow White was supposed to have had black hair but as Samantha was well aware of how stunning she looked, she didn't suppose that anyone would mind. The flowing white evening gown that she was wearing accentuated her height and gave her an almost regal air. As she fixed the little golden mask in place and gave her hair a last admonishing tap, she could almost imagine herself a queen.

It's funny, she thought, but sex is more and more on my mind of late. She tried to stop herself thinking about it, constantly reminding herself that such ideas were ugly and disgusting, but nevertheless the thoughts kept returning to the back of her mind. She'd heard one or two of her friends at school talk how much it hurt the first time and this had enforced her resolve not to give herself to anyone until she was married. All the same, since the cruise began she had caught herself looking at some of the younger passengers with a more than appraising eyes.

There were times when she really wanted to find out what making love, or fucking as she had heard it vulgarly called, was really like. Once one of the ship's officers had caught her eye and she'd felt funny little tingles running up and down her spine.

Now, with the romantic island of Capri so close, she wondered what the holiday was going to bring.

Stepping out into the corridor, she was almost bowled over by a group of children who came pelting round the corner, followed by a panting old lady who was calling to them to stop. Samantha stepped back out of danger and smiled at the old lady as she rushed by, then continued on towards the boat deck.

It was one of those nights for which the Mediterranean is justly famous. A clear starry sky with warm breezes floating gently across the water. Samantha leant over the rail for a while, watching the twinkling lights of the Italian coastline and listening to the soft hiss of the water as it curled away from the side of the boat.

She was beginning to think that it was about time she went down to the dance when she heard a loud snort behind her and turning, found herself looking straight into the eyes of a large donkey's head, supported on top of an obviously human body.

"Beauty and the beast," said a familiar voice. "We must get together later." Then, before she had a chance to reply, the donkey was running off down the deck, braying loudly.

Smothering a smile, Samantha moved away from the rail, heading towards the ballroom on the lower deck. She couldn't have timed her entrance better. She came in through the door just as the orchestra finished a number. Dancers were standing around in little huddles and all eyes turned to her as the Captain came across the floor to greet her.

"My dear Miss Carr," he said graciously. "Even in a mask I'd recognize that red hair anywhere." In a very old-fashioned gesture he kissed her hand and signaled the waiter to bring her a drink. Samantha laughed, enchanted with such courtesy and accepted a glass of champagne.

Everything about the evening seemed to be increasing her feeling of romance and fantasy. The ballroom was decorated to look like an immense tropical garden, flowers and ferns covering the walls and ceilings while great crystal chandeliers flashed and sparkled their jeweled light over the gaily-dressed throng.

Couples moved around her in strange costumes and several people waved, although with their masks Samantha was unable to tell who they were. Briefly she wondered about the man wearing the donkey's head. His voice had been so familiar, with a certain quality about it that made her go tense with excitement.

The music started again and the Captain led her out in an old-fashioned waltz. She did her best but was relieved when the music changed and she was able to switch to something a little faster. After half an hour the Captain had had enough and willingly surrendered her to someone younger.

"Having a good time?" asked a white-faced clown who was just recognizable as her father.

"Yes thanks, Daddy," she just had time to answer before being swept off in the arms of a vulture, who later assured her that he was supposed to be a bird of paradise.

The champagne flowed endlessly and by midnight she was more than a little drunk. Her current partner, an overstuffed version of Henry VIII, had gone off to fetch her another drink and she was standing to one side of the ballroom, watching the other dancers, when a familiar voice sounded behind her.

"How about coming out on deck?"

Samantha turned to see the donkey grinning at her from behind his mask. Before she had time to answer, he had taken her by the elbow and was steering her out onto the boat-deck. As they reached the rail he busied himself with a buckle around his neck and as Samantha watched, fascinated, he swore violently at the catch. Finally he managed to undo it and pulled off his head.

"Christ, that's better," he said with a sigh of relief, tossing the donkey's head over the side.

Now that he was exposed, Samantha recognized her escort as David Farlane, a young writer who had also been sitting at the Captain's table since the start of the voyage. Somehow right from the beginning David had both fascinated and repulsed her. There was something about him, the way he looked right through her, the way she felt that he was already mentally undressing her with his eyes. She shivered slightly and David leered at her, his eyes burning into hers like liquid fire. He reached over and pulled off her mask, tossing it over the side to follow the donkey's head.

"That's better," he grinned. "Now I can see you properly."

He squatted down on the deck, his back against the rail, and caught hold of her hand, pulling her down beside him. She tried to protest but his grip was too strong for her. In the dim light from the stars, his face took on an almost Satanic look, the dark beard contrasting strangely with the white of his skin. She tried to meet his gaze but finally had to drop her eyes before his piercing stare. For some reason she felt annoyed. She had always considered herself well capable of putting off the advances of the many young men who had tried to take her prized virginity, but with David she found herself totally out of her depth.

Suddenly he jumped to his feet and pulled Samantha up after him.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go explore the boat."

He strode off down the deck and, feeling slightly foolish and not really knowing why she did it, she followed him, running slightly to catch up.

It seemed to Samantha that they had been walking for miles, until finally he dragged her up a dirty ladder and out onto the fo'c'sle. Leaving her by the ladder, David walked across to the rail and leaned over. Samantha was furious. There was a large grease stain across her white evening gown and she felt that David was making a complete fool of her. Before she had a chance to say anything, however, he was talking again.

"Do you see those lights over there?" he said. "That's Scalea, a beautiful little fishing village. There the men do nothing but fish and fuck."

Samantha recoiled at the blatant use of such a terrible word and would have escaped if David hadn't pulled her over to join him.

"Those smaller lights are the fishermen," he went on.

He looked at her again, his eyes seeming to bore right into her soul.

"Are you afraid of me?" he grinned suddenly.

Samantha felt the blood rushing to her face but she managed to shake her head.

"No, of course not. Why should I?"

David laughed again. "I've been introduced to you as Samantha Carr, which is a perfectly terrible name. So I'm going to call you Fred. Also I intend to give you the best screwing you've ever had, but that can come later."

Samantha pulled away then, her eyes flashing angrily.

"Just who the hell do you think I am?" she snapped. "What makes you think I'd want to... go to bed with you?"

David laughed and pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips hard against her mouth. Samantha struggled wildly, fighting down the feeling of terror that was engulfing her. His beard was prickly against her face and his tongue, forcing a passage between her clenched teeth, seemed to be delving deep into her throat.

As suddenly as he'd started, David pulled away.

"I thought so," he grinned. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"

"None of your damn business," she tried to say but the words came out as a little squeak.

"In which case it's high time you learned what a man can do."

Desperately Samantha tried to get away but David caught hold of her dress and pulled her back. The flimsy material parted easily and she was standing before him in nothing but her slip. She screamed but David only grinned.

"It's no use," he said. "No one's going to hear you up here. Save your strength."

Everything was happening as if in a bad dream and, try as she might, Samantha was unable to break free. With a quick movement David pulled away her slip and as the silk tore down the middle, she felt the cool air on her naked breasts. It was the work of a moment for David to tear off her panties and then she was standing, completely nude, in front of the man who was obviously intending to rape her.

Without letting her go, David shrugged off his pants and Samantha looked in horror at the huge penis that arched up towards her.

"Go on," he growled, "Look at it, feel it. Just imagine what it's going to be like when that plunges into your pussy."

Samantha was shivering, more with fear than cold.

"Please," she whispered, "don't, I'll do anything, but don't make me do it."

David laughed, a low sinister sound in the darkness.

"By the time I've finished you'll be begging for it," he said. "Now you'd better get used to the idea. You know what people say; when rape is inevitable, lie back and enjoy it."

He twisted her arm cruelly, forcing her down onto the deck. The steel plates were cold and rough under her and she winced in pain, twisting from side to side in a vain attempt to get free. David was lying beside her now and his hand was between her legs, probing and exploring into the virgin cunt. His fingers had found the hymen, stretched rigidly across her box and she writhed in pain as he increased the pressure.

"You bastard, you bastard," she was moaning, trying to twist away from under him. His breath was hot and harsh against her cheek and she could feel the bulbous head of his enormous prick thrusting its way between her legs toward its intended target.

"Please, it'll break me in half. You'll never get it in, I'll never be able to take it," she screamed.

"Yes you will," he answered. "It'll hurt at first, but after that you'll love it."

Harshly he pulled her legs apart and suddenly his hateful prick was at the entrance to her cunt, thrusting steadily at the lips until they gave way before the pressure. His mouth was clamped over hers, his teeth grating against her teeth. His tongue twined around hers and she felt her tongue being sucked back into his mouth. His prick was inside her now, although it had gone barely an inch before it was stopped by her hymen. The pain was excruciating and she thrashed from side to side, trying anything to escape the great throbbing prick that was going to impale her on its seven-inch spike.

Her breasts were squashed against David's chest and her nipples burning in an agony of fear. Harder and harder the pulsing cock pressed into her and Samantha felt that she was being torn in half. Waves of agony pulsed through her body and her soundless screams were muffled by David's mouth.

Suddenly, in a white flash of pure agony, the hymen gave way and he was inside her, right inside her, his balls pressed hard into the cleft of her buttocks. Samantha felt that every part of her insides filled to overflowing by this huge invader that had so ravished her. Sweat poured down her body and she knew that she would die with the pain as David withdrew and then thrust home again with a sure, steady stroke.

Every part of her was pain. Her skin was scraped and chafed by the roughness of the deck while David's arms held her so tight that she felt her ribs were cracking. Then there was this foreign prick, deep in her no-longer virgin cunt, moving backwards and forwards in a steady rhythm as David began to fuck her.

It was almost as if she were outside herself, watching this man screw another woman who was nothing to do with her. The thrusting prick was like a stake driven through her insides and, try as she might, she was unable to break free.

And then the strangest thing happened. Although the pain was still there, it was as if it slowly receded, its place taken by a warm feeling of excitement that slowly spread through her whole body. Without thinking, she began to respond to David's strokes, subconsciously thrusting her body up to meet him every time his prick slammed home. Somehow she could no longer hate him, although she knew the hate would return as soon as she got away. But at the moment there was just this thrusting prick diving deeper and deeper into her. With every stroke her body relaxed a little more and made the passage easier. Her legs came around to encircle him, pulling him deeper into her and as he thrust away, his balls were punching into her buttocks with a soft, sticky slap.

"OOOOOooooohhhhh!" she moaned, thrashing around more in ecstasy than agony. David's breath was coming faster and faster as he increased the rhythm of his pumping.

I'm being fucked, she thought exultantly. After all this time, I'm actually being fucked.

Even as the thought came to her she rejected it, realizing that this wasn't love; rather a man who was raping her. The pleasure that was beginning to seep through her body died and her muscles tightened, trying to reject the intruder. David must have felt the change for he slowed down the speed of his thrusts.

"Don't try to fight it, baby," he growled. "You're going to enjoy it whether you like it or not."

She tried to bring up her hands to push him off but they were trapped by his arms. As her muscles had tensed, so the pain had returned and now every stroke that he pumped into Samantha's unwilling body was a flash of lighting-like agony.

She could feel the head of his prick thumping into the wall of her womb and the soft, squishy sound that it made was almost enough to make her throw up. David had increased the speed of his strokes once again and both bodies were jerking and bucking with the energy of his fucking.

Samantha let herself go limp, trying not to fight it and the pain began to seep away again. She tried to imagine that she was with someone she liked, someone she could marry, hoping that such fantasies might make the whole ghastly act more bearable.

As the thrusts increased in speed, Samantha somehow knew that the ordeal would soon be over. David's breath was rasping in his throat and she could feel his balls seem to expand against her crotch. With a last final thrust his prick buried itself balls-deep and he lay still, his body wracked with shudders as a load of hot, sticky liquid pumped deep into her. The pain had gone altogether but she felt numb, completely alienated from the act that he had forced on her.

I wonder if I'll get pregnant, she thought irrationally, feeling the weight of David's body pressing her down into the deck. David slowly withdrew and his prick slipped out of her cunt with a soft plop. Immediately Samantha tried to get away from him but he still held her tightly in his arms, close against him.

"Not so fast, little one," he murmured. "We're going to do it again and we're going to go on doing it until you start liking it."

"No, please," Samantha begged. "Please let me go."

David swiveled his body around until his prick was standing out almost directly in front of Samantha's face. Incredibly it was still hard and firm, its blood-engorged head pointing directly at her. The eye in the center was partly open and a few drops of his come still dribbled out, falling wetly on her stomach.

"Look at it," he whispered. "Really look at it. That's a prick, Fred. Touch it, feel it."

Slowly, fearing further violence, Samantha put out her hand and grasped the glistening shaft, starting nervously when it gave a little twitch between her fingers. The skin of David's shaft was moist and warm to her touch and, in spite of her feelings of revulsion, she couldn't help experiencing a light quiver of excitement as she felt how strong and powerful was the huge organ that a few moments before had been plunging deep inside her.

"Now that's much better," David sighed. "You're learning fast."

He moved again to bring the prick back between her thighs, positioning it so that it was supported in the hollow of flesh between her legs.

"Say you want me to fuck you again," he said.

"No, no! Let me go, please," Samantha pleaded.

David's weight on her increased and his arms gripped her so tight that she found difficulty in breathing.

"Beg me to fuck you. Go on, beg," he gritted between his teeth.

Samantha struggled harder to get free, twisting and writhing beneath the heavy body that had her pinned helpless to the deck.

"I said beg."

"Please... please fuck me," she said finally.

"Say it again, louder. Make me think you really mean it."

"Please, please. Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME." Her voice became louder and louder until she was finally shouting.

"That's a lot better," David grinned. "Alright, if you really want it, you're going to get it."

With a swift, hard thrust he speared his prick deep into her gaping cunt and Samantha stiffened convulsively as he hit bottom. Her vagina was already well lubricated from his orgasm and this time there was little or no pain. A little blood from her violated virginity welled out along the sides of his shaft. A slow feeling of pleasurable excitement started creeping through her body as David started his slow, powerful thrusts and her arms and legs went around his back to pull him into her. David felt that she was beginning to respond and brought up his hands to massage her breasts, feeling the nipples grow taut and firm against him.

Samantha shivered in excitement, not caring to understand the wonderful feelings that were beginning to pulse through her body. David was leaving his prick deep in her and rotating his hips so that his balls and the bottom of his shaft were pressing hard against her clit. Suddenly, with a violence that surprised and amazed her, Samantha was responding to everything he did. Arching her back, she pulled him into her even more, feeling the head of his prick deep inside. Little mewls of pleasure escaped from her lips, only to be smothered by David's hot, demanding mouth. Now she was responding to him with all the instincts of her sex, fucking him as hard as he was fucking her.

Great gasps of passion were wrung from both of them as the tempo of the fucking increased. Samantha felt herself being lost in a vortex of passionate sensation. It was as if a great fire were raging inside her, seeking desperately for a way to escape. Her tongue dove deep into the back of David's throat, rejoicing in his taste, his nearness, his sexual appeal. Both were covered in sweat but it was no longer important. Everything had ceased to exist except the gusts of pleasure and ecstasy that were hurtling through Samantha's body. She was unaware of the cold deck beneath her, unaware of how much she hated David. All she knew was that she was about to experience her first orgasm and it was wonderful.

"AaaAAHHHhhh! GoooddDD," she moaned, "it's so gooodddDDDD."

Desperately she bucked and jerked under him, deep in the grips of a passion that she could hardly believe existed.

Faster and faster David fucked her, his prick pounding in and out like a well-greased piston. Faster and faster she pushed herself up to meet him, anticipating his every stroke so that their bodies met each time with a wet thwack. Her arms tightened around his back and she felt that she'd like to draw all of him into her, balls and all. David's fingers were biting into her back but she didn't care. She wrested her mouth away from David's and sank her teeth deep into the soft flesh of his shoulder, feeling him plunge into her with even greater brutality.

God, but it was good. The fire inside her suddenly exploded out like a star gone nova and she screamed and yelled in the sheer heavenly joy of her first orgasm. A moment later David reached his climax and load after load of hot, steaming come pumped into her eagerly waiting cunt. Muscles she never even knew existed chomped and churned, milking his prick of every drop of juice that he could give her. As it splashed against the mouth of her womb, David's come felt like molten lava; that fed the fires of her own orgasm. Time ceased to have any meaning, nothing mattered except the ecstatic sensations that were swirling over her like a hundred ocean waves.

Finally both were spent and they lay back in each other's arms, exhausted. For a while Samantha was content to remain still, all thoughts and fears cleansed from her mind by what had happened.

"You're really quite a chick," David said eventually.

It was his words that brought her back to reality. Suddenly she realized where she was and what had been done to her. A feeling of shame and disgust swept through her and she pulled abruptly away, managing to get from under David's body. Sobbing, she stood up, looking down at the hated man who had so misused her.

David got to his feet to stand looking at her, a slight smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

"You bastard, I hate you, I hate you," Samantha sobbed, hitting at him wildly with her fists.

"Easy, Fred, easy." David held onto her. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that."

Samantha looked down at her dirt- and blood-stained body and burst into fresh tears. Hardly able to see, she broke free of her tormentor and found the remains of her clothes. The gown was badly ripped but she put it on anyway, praying that no one would see her before she had a chance to get back to her cabin to clean up.

"How could you, you... beast," she cried, not daring to look at David's face.

David's low chuckle sounded out of the darkness.

"You loved it," he said, "and sooner or later you'll get round to admitting it. Don't worry, young Fred, I'll be seeing plenty more of you. I believe we're both bound for Capri."

With a stifled sob she fled from her hateful attacker, blundering around until she found the ladder that led down to the passenger decks. Luckily the dance was still in full swing and she made it back to her cabin without being observed.

Showered and cleaned, she began to feel a little better, but the feelings of disgust that had started soon after her orgasm came to her stronger than before. She felt unclean, violated, common. How could a man be so hateful, so cruel and unfeeling as to take such advantage of her. The evening that had started off so romantically had ended in sheer nightmare.

As Samantha lay sobbing on her bed, her body still aching from the rape, David's hateful laugh seemed to ring in her ears. Whatever happened, she promised herself, she'd never let herself be put in such a position again. She was through with sex, once and for all. It was horrible, dirty.

With shame still filling her mind, Samantha finally cried herself to sleep.