6.

It was another perfect, beautiful day at Sun Dreams Resort, and Gemma was working at the ice cream stand. It had quickly become her favourite job, though she’d done all kinds of things since joining the team at Sun Dreams full-time. The stand was cool and canopied, but close enough to the blazing sunshine and water that her shift there felt like a day at the beach. All that was missing was the lounge chair, tanning oil, and the resort’s special suntanning playlist—Gemma shivered as the memory of music brushed against her brain.

She had just sent a pretty young couple on their way with double scoops when a guy approached the stand, looking around a little nervously, hands in the pockets of his swim trunks. Gemma smiled at him, but he refused to meet her eyes, and seemed to be gathering the courage to order ice cream, which was a funny idea.

Finally, he leaned against the counter, looking back over his shoulder as though someone might overhear him. Before Gemma could ask him what flavour he wanted, he said, “You’re Number 22, right?” His mouth gaped, like he had more to say, but all he ventured was, “Um, I um… right?”

Number 22 blinked, her thoughts pleasantly fuzzy. “That’s right!” she said, because she knew it was the correct response.

“Ok, I… um, jeez, I… um… can you…?”

A pulse of arousal made Number 22 shudder as she watched the anxious guy try to bring himself to ask a follow-up question. She knew she should prompt him, and that she should do so by saying, “How may I serve you?”

He gasped slightly and locked eyes with her, for just a second before he blushed and looked back down at her chest. She knew the numerals 22 were just slightly visible above the edge of her bikini top, and hoped the sight would reassure him.

“Ok. Fuck, I was… I wanted… what was it, um, the Special Room Service?”

Number 22 squeezed her thighs together, realizing that was the phrase she’d been waiting for him to say since he mentioned her number. And then she forgot all about the phrase, and started unfastening the wooden cover of the ice cream stand.

“Meet me behind the stand in one minute, please,” she said, her smile wide and accommodating. “I’ll be right with you.”

Number 22 reached under the counter for the room key she didn’t remember was there, knowing that room was free for Special Room Service. Locking up the stand—the cover said BE BACK SOON—and taking her nervous Customer by the hand, she led him happily in the direction of the pre-selected room.

People in line behind the Customer were complaining that they couldn’t get ice cream, but Number 22 didn’t even hear them. Her Customer was her whole world, and she was already fantasizing about him sliding her bikini bottoms down and fucking her on all fours on the king-size bed. She craved being used that way, but also knew all the decisions belonged to him. For the duration of Special Room Service, she would belong to him, too. She would do anything he wanted. Anything at all. She was the property of Sun Dreams Resort, and Sun Dreams existed for the pleasure of its Customers.

The End.