Sun Dreams

Chapter 1

by Mindlevel Zero

Tags: #cw:noncon #brainwashing #dom:male #f/f #f/m #pov:bottom #sub:female #subliminal
See spoiler tags : #serial_recruitment #tattoo

Disclaimer: This story is fantasy and contains descriptions of sex and other adult situations. If you are not an adult, or those ain’t your kind of situations, then read no further.

All persons, places, and events in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to existing persons, places, and events, past or present, is entirely coincidental.
This story is © Mindlevel Zero. Please feel free to re-post as long as this attribution remains intact. And if you do decide to share my story, I’d love to hear about it!
Your thoughts and feelings about my words are welcome at Enjoy!

Author’s note: To the person whose fantasies inspired this story—I hope I’ve done them justice. ❤️

What made Gemma smile was, it was February and the street outside her apartment was doubtless iced over, her neighbours’ cars being towed to make way for the snowplows, but she was a thousand miles away. At the resort it was 30°C at ten in the morning, and the sun, not even at its height yet, was glaring down out of a perfect blue sky, warming her honey-coloured hair and the back of her shoulders as she waited in line for ice cream #1 of the day.

This vacation was exactly what she needed after the last year and, with the deal Rachelle had gotten her, ten days at Sun Dreams Resort had been a no-brainer. The guy ahead of her in line flirted with the pretty girl manning the ice cream stand in nothing but a white bikini with the resort’s logo on the left breast, her hair pulled back in a ponytail that made her look even younger than she probably was. Gemma didn’t even care about the delay. For what seemed like the first time in forever, there was nowhere she had to be. Aside from the “Meet you at the ice cream stand at 10 and show you around!” text from Rachelle, no one expected anything from her, and that alone was surprisingly relaxing.

Well, ok. It was relaxing for a minute or two, but then the holdup started getting to her, even through the bliss of having traded snow for sunshine. Come on, Gemma found herself thinking at Flirting Dude, Take your shot and let the rest of us get our ice cream.

At the thought of “the rest of us”, Gemma looked over her shoulder to see if a line was forming with whom she could commiserate, but no one else was after ice cream this early in the day. Yeah, yeah, Gemma rebuked her internal scold about unnecessary calories, But I just got off a plane, so fuck you.

And then Ice Cream Girl lowered the wooden canopy of her little stand, and Flirting Guy wandered off, leaving Gemma staring at the word “CLOSED” stenciled on sun-faded green wood.

“What the hell?? Um, hello?”

Flirting Guy paid no attention to her, seemingly in a hurry, and Ice Cream Girl was nowhere to be seen. With an exasperated sound, Gemma considered if his shot had been so successful she’d run off with him then and there, and shook her head at the idea. But she was drawn from thoughts of investigation by a voice calling her name.

“Gemma! Ohmigod, HE-EYYYYY!”

Rachelle, dark-skinned and shining in the same white bikini Ice Cream Girl had worn, her gleaming smile perfect as always, ran up the steps from the beach, her flip-flops smacking the hot pavement as she pounced on her friend.

“You made it! How was your flight? Was the weather horrible coming out here? I was so worried you’d get delayed or canceled or something! Isn’t this great? Come on, I can’t wait to show you the whole resort! I can totally get us in places the guests aren’t allowed. Come on!”

Having given each other a squeeze, Rachelle already had Gemma by the hand and was leading her to the beach before she could even mention the weird thing with the ice cream stand. The deeply tanned, dark-haired woman hardly let her friend get a word in edgewise as she talked all about Sun Dreams, how cool it was to work here, how much fun Gemma was going to have, how great the rooms and amenities were, how there was free wifi on the beach and there were even curated playlists you could stream while you tanned, which she knew Gemma would just love, because… and on and on.

Gemma rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling at Rachelle’s enthusiasm; the girl hadn’t changed at all since college. She’d always been fun to party with, and when she’d told Gemma she’d landed a job in Promotions for this far-flung resort, Gemma hadn’t been surprised. Rachelle was even more of a sun bunny than she was, and had never seemed to belong in a city that had four different seasons.

After an hour of catching up over complimentary daiquiris, Rachelle left her to tan. Gemma found a free lounge chair away from most of the others and settled herself on the blue canvas. The chairs were as well thought-out as the rest of the resort’s amenities seemed to be: they were very wide, and even someone much larger than petite Gemma would have no trouble hitting every spot they wanted to tan. Gemma started on her back. Having already applied her tanning oil, she pulled her phone out and made sure it was on the resort wifi, then opened the link Rachelle had sent her. She rolled her eyes when it wanted to download some third-party app instead of just linking to a Spotify playlist, but, whatever. She wasn’t in a hurry!

The sound of the mellow surf washing the beach and the happy shouts of people playing in it were nice enough background noise until she could turn on some music and tune the rest of the world out, as she loved to do while tanning. There was nothing more relaxing than lying there in the sun, letting the warmth slow your thoughts into a drowsy haze, with nowhere to be and no one to bother you. But the right playlist was what really made it perfect. Gemma hoped Rachelle knew what she was talking about with this “special music” the resort had devised. Gemma had plenty of her own playlists, including ones for tanning, but her friend had been so excited, and it couldn’t hurt to indulge her.

At last the app was downloaded—at least it was simple to use. There was just one playlist, according to Rachelle they updated it on the regular, and all Gemma had to do was tap the button and let it go. She lay back and shut her eyes behind her sunglasses. Her earbuds weren’t noise-canceling, so she could still hear the surf behind the chill electronic beat that faded in, but that only made it more relaxing.

Actually, the music mixed really well with the sound of the ocean, which made sense if the resort was going to the trouble of getting their own music made; they knew their audience, after all. Gemma found herself drifting away much more quickly than she usually did when she tanned, and idly wondered if she’d fall asleep—maybe she should have set a timer to make sure she rolled over onto her front; it would suck getting burned on her very first day.

But then a chime sounded in her ears and a gentle female voice said, “It’s time to turn over.”

Gemma smirked. They really had thought of everything, hadn’t they? But she checked her phone. Had it really been… yes, it had been fifteen minutes already! That was crazy. She could swear she just turned the music on moments earlier… she must have zoned out almost immediately. It made sense, though: she was tired from the long flight, and, now that the excitement of arriving and meeting up with Rachelle was over and she could just stretch out on the beach, all that tiredness was catching up with her.

Gemma rolled over onto her chest, and felt the sun quickly warm the skin of her shoulders. It felt so good, almost like a massage, and the notion of being massaged by sunlight, visualizing the light dancing over her shiny, oiled skin, fluttered around in her head. It was a strange fancy for her, but very enjoyable. Gemma drifted deeper into profound relaxation, unaware she’d slipped from daydreaming into a different sort of dreaming—not quite asleep, but not quite awake, either.

Soon, another chime sounded and the gentle female voice returned: “Time to take a break.”

Gemma raised herself up on her hands and blinked heavily. She’d fallen asleep! That never happened… or, almost never. She looked at her phone, and was once again surprised to confirm another quarter of an hour had flown by; once again, it had felt like only minutes. She appreciated the friendly voice—and it was funny to think of a disembodied voice recorded on a playlist as a friend, but felt warm feelings towards it all the same—and had a strange sense that the woman had been speaking to her the whole time, underneath the music that had played while she’d slept.

Maybe there were lyrics in the ambient sound, though Gemma couldn’t recall any. What else would the voice have been saying to her?

Rachelle had invited her to a special staff event that night, where she’d get to meet the owners of the resort. Her time in the sun had tired Gemma out more than she’d expected, so she figured a late nap before getting ready for the party was a must. Gotta be appropraitely bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to meet her friend’s employers.

Almost as soon as Gemma lay on the bed, she slipped deeply into strange dreams.

Erotic dreams.

After waking, Gemma couldn’t remember many specifics, but was aware her dream had been unusually sexy; her naked body was still flushed with arousal, and she teased her sensitive places until she was squirming in the big hotel bed, seeking the release she craved.

As she masturbated, the disjointed remnants of her dream floated through her mind. Something about a powerful man, or maybe several men, and several women, and she was wearing a bright white bikini just like Rachelle and the other women employed by the resort wore, and… there was something underneath the bikini top, something she felt she must keep hidden, yet longed for the mysterious man to uncover…

The hidden thing, whatever it was, was not just her nipple, though she tweaked and twisted that now and bit her lip so her moan as she came wouldn’t escape the walls of the room.

Showering off, the details of the dream slipped away, but erotic dreams were unusual for Gemma and she wondered about it. And about the connection to the resort. The dream must have been another symptom of the mixed stress and relief of travel. As the hot water poured over her body, she found her arousal had not entirely gone away, as though her orgasm had only partially quelled her lust. With any luck, she thought, there would be some hot guys at this party, and she could spend the night in another room at the resort, with more than just her dreams.

The party was not quite as exciting as Rachelle’s enthusiasm had promised, though there were no shortage of good-looking people there, of all genders. No surprise a high-end tropical resort would have attractive staff, but the women in particular, all outfitted in those same white bikinis, were an unusually striking collection when you had them all together in one room. Everyone Gemma talked to was just so excited about working at Sun Dreams, and how great the owners of the place were, that she was a little dizzy before she’d even finished her first drink. It was a little like attending a meeting of your local cult.

“Gemma, come on!” Rachelle was pulling her along not a moment after she’d picked up her second cocktail. “I want to introduce you to Ty.” Her friend led her to a tall, handsome middle-aged man with his arm around a familiar face: the girl from the ice-cream stand who’d earlier in the day abandoned Gemma in her moment of need.

“Ty’s one of the guys who runs this place! He’s great. Aren’t you, Ty?” Rachelle said flirtatiously, but Gemma thought nothing of the tone she took with her boss—Rachelle was like that with everyone, and the resort hardly seemed an environment of uptight professionalism… Gemma thought Ty and Ice Cream Girl were touching each other with an awful lot of familiarity for a boss and his employee, though. Well, she figured, what happens at the staff party stays at the staff party…

“Sure, Rachelle, sure.” Ty seemed to only be half paying attention to Rachelle’s chatter. He greeted Gemma politely, but there was something impolite in the way his eyes lingered on her even as he bantered with Rachelle. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy and was obviously successful if he owned this place, but his look, and the way he kept one arm possessively draped over Ice Cream Girl, combined with Gemma’s strange dream and lingering arousal to give her a weird vibe. She excused herself and Rachelle quickly, and was glad when the staff bar’s small dance floor lit up so she had an excuse not to make any more conversation with the boss.

It was almost three in the morning and Gemma had put away six cocktails (and the bar staff mixed them strong for their own) by the time she and Rachelle stumbled back to their rooms. They went arm-in-arm, laughing about which of the staff either of them would have taken home. Gemma admitted she had been in the mood to hook up, and Rachelle encouraged her.

“You could have totally had your pick tonight! You’re the new out-of-towner and you look great!” Rachelle took a step back, swaying unsteadily, and looked Gemma up and down. She made a lewd expression, and they both broke back into laughter.

“I know, I just…” Gemma didn’t really want to admit to her friend, who was so excited about the place, that the resort was giving her a weird vibe. “I guess I’m just tired from the trip down, you know? Rather just go to bed.”

“Oh… Bullshit!” Rachelle yelled, and they broke up laughing again.

They carried on down the well-lit promenade, lined on both sides with the sleek doors of the luxury suites, each one like a miniature townhouse. Someone was walking up the promenade towards them.

It was a young man in linen slacks and a camp-collar shirt half open to reveal bare chest underneath. He came right up to them, and Gemma first thought he was going to scold them for making so much noise so late at night—the promenade was otherwise deserted and silent, and, when the drunken friends weren’t hollering at each other, only the sound of the nearby surf could be heard.

But the guy walked up, gave Gemma a curious look, and leaned in close to Rachelle, whispering something to her that Gemma couldn’t hear.

If she’d been less drunk, Gemma might have noticed a strange subtle change come over her friend at the man’s words. Rachelle stood up a little straighter, and a blank expression flowed over her face… replaced after just a moment by a dazzling smile.

“Yes, of course!” She said, with excitement that seemed somewhat exaggerated. She turned to Gemma, who saw Rachelle was now holding the man’s hand.

“Gemma, I’ve got to go. Have a good night, okay? I’ll check on you tomorrow for brunch!”

Rachelle and the guy went off together without another word.

“Uhh… Okay… So, like, you two know each other?” Gemma spoke loud and quickly, not sure what was going on. Suddenly, Rachelle had decided to go home with this random guy? Had they made plans earlier, and she just hadn’t told Gemma? That would be totally unlike her not to brag about hooking up, but…

“Yeah, sure, of course!” The guy said, too loud, over his shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, uhh, Gemma? See you around!”

He put his arm around Rachelle in a way that reminded Gemma of Ty and Ice Cream Girl at the party, and the two went quietly away down the promenade. Gemma was stunned. And drunk.

But not too drunk to follow them at a distance. She didn’t want to fuck up a good thing for Rachelle, if that’s what was going on; it didn’t seem like her friend was going away with this guy against her will, but… it was strange, and made the weird vibe Gemma had felt all evening even weirder.

She tailed the couple, who didn’t seem to notice her, to one of the suites further down the promenade, not far away from Gemma’s own room. The man showed Rachelle inside and shut the door. The lights stayed on inside the townhouse, but the blinds were down and they let through only a diffuse glow. Gemma, feeling like a spy or a burglar—or at least a voyeur—crept up close to the suite, crouching near the window with her ear against the glass. She didn’t hear any talking. After a few long, tense minutes, however, in which she was sure someone was going to catch her eavesdropping, she did hear… a woman’s moan.

So Rachelle was getting hers tonight. Well, Gemma thought, good for her. I guess. Probably.

Back in her room, Gemma lay in the dark, worrying about her friend. The warm, happy buzz of the party had worn off, though the cocktails still left her with the unpleasant feeling of floating on a boat on rough seas. There was nothing wrong with Rachelle cheerfully going off to fuck some good-looking tourist if that’s what she wanted to do, but the whole thing just felt wrong in a way Gemma couldn’t define. The wrongness lay on her oppressively and kept her from sleeping.

At last, knowing there was no rational reason for her fears, she got out her headphones and put on the second track of the tanning playlist. The first had done such a good job at knocking her out on the beach, she hoped it would help her get to sleep.

It did.


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