Cruise Ship Of Broken Dreams Ch 01

Disclaimer

This is a work of pure fantasy; nothing is real, and all characters are adults. Comments are enabled, and all constructive comments are welcomed; even if you think my story sucks, tell me how it sucks so I can improve the story and as an author. While this chapter is an exaggeration of the abuses occurring on cruise ships, it's based on factual reports of the violations that have occurred, including the 3

rd

paragraph from the end of this chapter. While it is to entertain, it also serves as a warning to anyone who is planning to take a cruise in the future. I also want to thank Kenji Sato for his editing assistance on my horrible grammar.

Cruise Ship of Broken Dreams

Chapter 1

Cruise ships quickly become the pedophiles, child molesters, and rapists' dream places to cultivate their vices.

Once, the Catholic Church was the place to be, to propagate these crimes. Predators only had to get ordained as a priest or minister to join the club. They were able to use their authority, hiding behind scripture to justify themselves to their victims. For years, they were able to carry out sexual assaults against the youngest members of congregations, and the Church hierarchy not only turned a blind eye, but activity hindered law enforcement investigations and pressured victims' families to forget the whole matter; they would be damaging the reputation of the Church.

And when an incident got too much attention, the Church's solution? Move the perpetrator to a Church in another region, far from the scandal they caused. They wouldn't even warn the new congregation sheep of the wolf they placed among them. Thus, the cycle of abuse was allowed to continue. It took years and thousands of victims stepping forward to force the Catholic Church to change its ways.

The cruise ship lines are now becoming the preferred hunting grounds for sexual deviants. Not only is maritime law weak and enforcement lax, but the very people who are supposed to protect passengers aboard cruise lines, turn a blind eye to any crime committed. They are more interested in protecting the company's reputation and profits than getting any justice for the victims. Only one percent of sexual assaults against passengers are prosecuted, and that's only of the assaults that are reported; seventy percent go unreported. The lax enforcement of the law by the cruise lines has only encouraged predators to commit more sexual assaults, compounding the issue. Sexual assaults have almost doubled in the last five years.

But enough with the boring statistics. This is where our story's protagonist comes in.

Robert Royce was born into a wealthy family, and he had the good fortune that the family also owned a company that was in the business of running a small cruise ship line. While it was a small operation, when compared to more substantial operators like Circus Cruise Lines, they still owned several cruise ships. They were older and smaller ships only able to cater to 600 to 800 passengers, unlike the modern mega cruise ships catering to two or three thousand tourists. Still, they were able to find a niche market for budget-minded tourists, who enjoyed cruises to more unique destinations. There were advantages to having smaller, older ships; it allowed them to be able to dock in ports that could not accommodate the larger mega cruise ships—islands like St. Barts, British Islands, and the Leeward Islands. This set their business apart from larger operations, with a more unique itinerary than the same-old destinations other cruise lines offered.

Robert practically grew up aboard cruise ships, living aboard in the owner's suite the family lived in. His father ran the family business from one of his ships. Robert rarely set foot on land; he had a private tutor and later attended classes virtually. Thus, he was robbed of the socialization other children enjoyed attending school in the usual fashion which may or may not have accounted for the way he turned out he did.

While his father was a kind man, respected his employees, and treated them with dignity, his son was a little monster. He was entitled, self-centered, and even cruel, but very intelligent, bordering on genius.

One night, while the ship was at sea, he got an eighteen-year-old female passenger drunk and forcefully had sex with her. The girl's parents wanted justice; they wanted Robert charged with rape! Robert, for the first time in his spoiled childhood, feared he would go to jail, but his father was able to get the matter dismissed. He remembered that conversation like it was yesterday,

"What about the police?" Robert asked his father.

"While the ship is at sea, in international waters, I am the police." his father replied.

He never forgot that conversation. His father, told Robert that he was to attend military college in the fall. Maybe they could straighten out his son before he caused any more trouble. Unfortunately for Robert's father, he never got that chance. Roberts's parents and older sister were killed later that summer in a private plane crash. Robert would have died on the plane, too, but he had the good fortune of having the flu that weekend, too sick to get out of bed, let alone travel.

So, at eighteen years old, he was the sole heir to the Royce fortune. He had a free hand to explore his darker desires. One of the first things he did was renovate one of the older, smaller cruise ships, which could only accommodate 800 passengers. He had it outfitted with a state-of-the-art surveillance system installed with detection avoidance measures to prevent discovery. Every stateroom, hallway, lounge, and bathroom had hidden cameras.

He then marketed the ship to a younger crowd, not the stuffy senior citizens who were the typical passengers that vacation on his other ships. He reduced the cost of the cruises to make them very attractive, and even offered free booze. His father's business managers warned him that by offering cruises at such a reduced rate, with booze included, he would be operating at a heavy loss. The company couldn't afford to operate in the long run with his business model, but he dismissed their warnings. He had a plan, he assured them, not to worry.

Now, on every cruise, he was free to prey on young, unsuspecting women to feed his sex addiction. Over a typical seven-day cruise, he would have unprotected sex with ten to fifteen young women. In addition, he would identify couples he would give special attention to.

As passengers entered the ship via the gangway, Robert would be watching the video monitors in his suite; he just had to click on the women he was interested in. Facial recognition would instantly provide him with her name, room number, and any traveling companions. The system was also integrated with a software program that searched the internet to identify potential targets. The system could also track the women's movement as they wandered around the ship, letting Robert know when the best time to strike.

He preferred single women for unprotected sex, but couples, especially married couples, were targeted for special attention. Typically, he would wait until a potential victim was at or near a bar and offer to buy her a drink, either from the bar or have a server deliver the beverage. When at the bar, he would make sure she took the drink directly from the bartender.

After all, you could never be too careful, was one of the common lines he told his victims. The bartender, of course, spiked the drink with a date rape drug on Robert's orders. The drugs allowed Robert to suggest anything to his victims.

It wasn't long before he was leading them back to their room. He, after all, knew precisely what stateroom they were staying in. He stripped his latest slut as soon as they entered her cabin. Robert wasn't much for foreplay it was his pleasure that was important, not hers. After all, he was of the opinion that women only existed for his pleasure. God had gifted him with a generously sized eight-inch dick and the stamina of a young man to boot. He would jackhammer a girl nonstop for thirty to forty-five minutes before gifting her with a generous amount of his cum.

When he had sex with a woman, she had no doubt the next day after the abuse her body had endured; bruising wasn't uncommon after a roll in the hay with him. He also had terrific recovery time, less than thirty minutes after cumming, and he was ready to go for another round of fucking, but, generally, he didn't bother with a second shot on goal. His co-conspirators were already lining up his next conquest for him in one of the ship's bars or clubs.

On most seven-day cruises, he would fuck as many as fifteen women over the course of the trip; with fifty scheduled cruises a year, he could easily break the seven hundred mark and often did.

Usually, he just hammered away on her pussy until he satisfied himself, but he changed it up on occasion. At least once or twice per cruise, he would fuck her in her pussy for five minutes, then fuck her in her ass for another five, and finally force his dick down her throat for the final five minutes. He would then repeat the rotation until her came one of her orifices. Often, she would later suffer from a urinary tract infection and stomach parasites, sometimes even life-threatening, which required an extended stay at a hospital. Not that this was Robert's problem; his victims would have already departed his ship at least a week or more before the worst of the effects were evident.

Robert also kept a library of his conquests. With the hidden cameras with audio in every stateroom, he recorded every session. During his downtime, he would edit the video to thirty to ninety seconds at most, showing the best highlights; after all, who had time to watch fifteen hours or so of him non-stop fucking different women. He would end up with a fifteen-to-twenty-minute complication video, which he added to other such videos from previous cruises. He would then play this loop nonstop on large flat-screen monitors in his owner's suite. It would take fifteen hours or so to watch his sexual conquests for each year.

The woman would wake up the following day with no memory of what had happened to her; no evidence, other than cum leaking out of her pussy, of anything that happened to her. If she had a female traveling companion, Robert was more than happy to make it a threesome, assuming her companion was attractive. If not, well, Robert would invite a friend or three to come along to fuck the ugly bitch. No date rape drug was wasted, was his motto. Usually, his victims never reported the assault, chalking it up to too much alcohol and poor decisions. In the rare cases they did, the cruise ship's security would dismiss them, asking them what, what did they expect? drinking, drugs, and dressing the way they did. Security was well-trained in psychology, making the victims make it think it was their fault for being assaulted.

Of course, this didn't discourage everyone. Some women knew their rights and demanded that security take their claims seriously. At that point, they did; she would have to submit to a complete examination from the ship's male doctor. - "Sorry, no female doctor or nurse is available. This is a small ship; we do not have big clinics like larger ships." During the hours-long examination, the ship's doctor would go over every inch of her body, including her pussy, ass, and mouth, looking for evidence of micro tears that could be used as evidence to back up her claims. He would photograph every inch of her completely nude and in compromising positions; when she asked if this was really necessary, she would be told yes, dismissing her.

After her very evasive anal examination, he would immediately examine her mouth without bothering to change his rubber gloves; often, the woman didn't notice until the doctor already had his fingers in her mouth, rubbing them along her teeth. Rarely did she see this soon enough to stop the doctor, asking him to change his gloves. He would mumble, "Sorry," replace his gloves and continue with his examination. The entire exam was designed to be more intrusive than any rape she may have suffered. At least she didn't have to remember the rape; she would remember the doctor molesting her for years afterward.

The security staff would be watching the unfolding events on monitors in the security room nearby. They would take bets on whether she noticed if the doctor didn't change his gloves after the anal medical exam, and side bets if she saw it before he put his hand in her mouth and if she said anything before, during, or after the doctor's lack of hygiene.

And, of course, a date-rape kit was administered, but not quite the way they expected. The doctor would insert a long tube inside her virginal canal to collect a sperm sample. But, instead of sucking sperm out, first, he would inject her with a hefty dose of sperm from a dozen different men collected from male passengers from the current and previous cruises before drawing out a small sample. The logic being if she had another date rape kit administered by the police when the ship arrived at a port, the evidence they collected would be worthless. DNA samples for dozens of men, many of whom were thousands of miles away when she was assaulted. No district attorney in his right mind would prosecute such a case. And, of course, the DNA sample and any photos the doctor collected would be misplaced or lost if he was asked for them, which wasn't often.

After the very humiliating exam from the doctor, they would want to put the horrible ordeal behind them. It was a lot less stressful to forget the matter and get on with their lives than to continue to endure abuse and embarrassment at the hands of those who were supposed to protect them.

In the case of couples, Robert had a female escort with him to help make introductions; after all, couples were more receptive to other couples approaching them than single men. But, the process was the same; they both would get a heavy dose of a date rape drug, and the male companion would also get a sedative as well. Robert would escort her back to the couple's room, leaving her husband behind. He would be passed out at a table. Robert would strip her naked, and he would have his way with her. A female double would then enter the room as Robert was banging away on his latest conquest. She would dress in the wife's clothes, wear a wig of matching hair color, wear her jewelry, and even small details like nail color and any visible tattoos were copied. She would then leave the room, return to the bar, and the blackmail setup would begin.

She would 'meet' with several Black men (or White if she was Black), telling them this was supposed to be her honeymoon or another special occasion and look at her husband; he couldn't hold his liquor. He was passed out drunk, and she was horny as hell and needed to get fucked badly.

One of the Black men would say, "You don't mind if I'm recording this, do you?" He would say, "I don't want trouble later if you accuse me of rape or anything."

She would assure him it was perfectly fine. She loved the attention. "Perhaps you could bring along a friend, and we could have a party. But first, can you help my worthless husband to our room?"

The video wouldn't show her face, but later, seeing the clothes and jewelry and hearing her voice, which was computer-generated to sound exactly like hers, viewing it later, she wouldn't question its authenticity. The video would then proceed to show the three of them walking back to her room, carrying her husband along.

She would pull one of the man's arms and giggle, "Hurry up, I want you inside me."

Once inside the room, the husband would be tossed onto the bed and pushed to the side to make room for the fun to begin.

Robert would have been finished with the wife by then, his cum leaking out of her abused pussy. The body double would remove the wife's clothing, switch outfits, and leave the room. From there the video was of several men gangbanging the shit out of her. Often, a line of men stretched across the stateroom and out the door, waiting for their turn. It was not a video any wife would want her husband to see. They would pay a pretty penny to keep the video secret, and they did.

The same formula was applied to the husband - a video of him picking up a woman at one of the ship's bars and going back to her room to have sex, a video of his encounter surfacing later, and a demand for money to keep it quiet. The blackmail attempt would not be made until several weeks or months after a cruise; Robert wanted to maintain the appearance that the cruise ship and those performing the blackmail were in no way related.

Not all blackmail attempts succeeded; some couples had open marriages where they had extramarital affairs all the time, and some confessed to their partners, which sometimes caused a divorce and other times not. Robert kept adjusting the blackmail formula - what situation would most likely result in a successful blackmail attempt, and how much could he get out of it? Despite Robert's intelligence, he saw people as a math problem. If he could get the variables right, the equation would work out in his favor.

After several months of modifying the variables, he had an eighty-percent success rate. Women would be recorded having a gangbang with dozens of men, and men would be recorded committing statutory rape; at least, that is what appeared on video to them.

Blackmail terms were set with low monthly payments, as little as a hundred dollars to as much as a few hundred dollars a month, to ensure the footage never saw the light of day. So long as they paid, they would be safe from exposure. A payment plan ensured a steady income for Robert and significantly increased the chances they would pay. After all, a few hundred dollars a month was a lot easier for most people to come up with than a lump sum of several thousand dollars. It was something people could hide in the family's monthly budget without discovery. How much of a blackmail payment he depended on the couple's net worth, which was carefully researched before the couple even stepped foot on the cruise. Wealthier couples with high incomes paid a higher blackmail price than poor targets.

At first, only a few couples were targeted each a cruise, but once Robert got the formula dialed in, he significantly ramped up his operations. He organized several blackmail teams to target and record each mark. Soon, many couples were being sexually assaulted on each cruise; Robert couldn't personally be the one to get the first pussy ride. He had to delegate others to lead each blackmail operation, but Robert, of course, reserved the attractive couples for himself. His blackmail teams pulled double duty as both crew and sexual predators; eventually, just about every male crew member was serving the guests' needs during the day, and was more or less raping them at night. The ship was a sexual predator's dream come true, a regular paradise.

Each team was paid a commission if the blackmail was successful. Qualified targets were scouted out and offered sweet deals for last-minute cruises. "We had a last-minute cancellation, but if you book now, you will get a special rate." The marketing team Robert hired to get him bookings had no idea of his other activities, but they received a nice commission if they could entice people to go on a cruise, but only the ones on the lists of contacts that they were provided. If they happened to sell a cabin to a couple not on the list, there was no commission! So, they quickly learned only to make their sales pitch to those on the list. Robert's logic was that if he could get them aboard for pennies on the front end, he would reap the rewards on the back end.

Once his new venture was up to speed and he had geared up production, around a hundred couples were ensnared in Robert's blackmail ring each cruise, about one-quarter of the total number of passengers. This didn't include the single woman he was enjoying on the side. Of those, eighty would pay an average of four thousand dollars a year in blackmail payments, which worked out to about sixteen million dollars a year, minus commissions, more than enough to offset the abnormally low fares he was charging. After three years, Robert was racking in almost fifty million dollars a year. A typical cruise ship's net profit per passenger was about three hundred dollars each; he quickly cleared four hundred dollars a profit per passenger a year, and that figure only increased as income from past victims and new victims continued to improve his balance sheet.