Welcome To Saturn Beta - Part 8 free porn video

Sometime later, an electronic bell sound rang through the suite. Tyler startled to attention and looked over the bed at Connie, who still had the purple rubber dildo hanging out of her cunt. She rustled around on the bedsheets underneath her for a moment before gripping the dong with both hands and easing it out of herself. She gasped as the tip exited her pussy, spilling a slight amount of vaginal juices onto the linens beneath her. "Sounds like dinner," she said, running a hand through her pixie-cut hair. She stood, bringing the dildo with her into the bathroom, where she dropped it unceremoniously into the oversized marble bathtub. That's what it sounded like to Tyler. He couldn't see what exactly Connie was up to, since he had turned away from the rest of the world to stare out the window. He could see the faint traces of Saturn's rings and one of her moons off in the deep distance of space. He pulled his legs upward until his knees brushed against his large, softened nipples and hugged himself tightly. The ache of vigorous, penetrative sex still lingered inside his pussy. He tried to ignore it. Connie wrapped her bathrobe around herself, turned the dimmers up on the lights in the suite, and went to the door. She opened it and greeted the help, who wheeled the service tray into the suite. Tyler heard the clinking of silverware and ceramics near the window - the help setting the table, he figured. Eventually the help left again without saying a word. Tyler had never gotten a look at whoever it was, but he wondered if the help had been human or just a service robot. "Hungry?" Connie said, voice lilting and flirty. "I know I am. I'm guessing you are, too, after what we just went through. Let's get this settled on the table over here. Then we can get cleaned up and have ourselves... Violet?" At the mention of his new, feminine name, Tyler hugged his knees ever tighter to his breasts. He wanted to forget about what just happened, forget about how much he enjoyed it, forget about Saturn Beta completely and just get back to Miami as fast as he could... "Hey," Connie said, sitting down on the bed next to Tyler. Her robe had loosened already and Tyler could see a hint of her small breasts. "Hey. Violet. Are you tired? Want to sleep it off first before we eat?" Tears formed in the corner of his eyes. God dammit, what a girly thing to do. Crying after sex... "Whoa, Violet," Connie said. She rested a hand on the bedclothes over Tyler's body and rubbed him lightly. "Come on. Tell me what's wrong." "A lot's wrong," Tyler mumbled. Slightly relaxing the death grip on his knees, he looked up at Connie for some sympathy, unconvinced that he'd receive any. "We... Connie, I shouldn't have done that. Just now. With the... thing." "With the dildo, you mean," Connie said, causing Tyler to nod weakly. "Why not?" "I just shouldn't have." "Hmm... well, that's debateable. I'll tell you what we'll do. I'm going to leave your robe here on the side of the bed, and I'm going to start eating. I think a little food would do you some good, but it's up to you. If you'd like to join me in a few minutes, even if you don't much feel like talking, I'd certainly enjoy your company. I'd enjoy it very much. But you take as much time as you need, all right?" Connie stroked her fingernails through Tyler's hair a couple of times before rising from the bed and walking over to the abbreviated dining table on the far end of the suite, mounted next to the big window. It was a hell of a view, from there, certainly better than the view Tyler had while bunched up inside the blankets on the bed. Connie lifted the lids from the plates on the service tray, and soon the odor of delicious food wafted into Tyler's nose. He took a deep breath, and the smell made him feel marginally better. "Let's see," Connie said, lifting lid after lid. "We've got some trout here, looks like some kind of green sauce on it... some steak... lamb chops with a nice reduction on them..." Tyler's stomach gurgled with hunger. The little finger sandwiches he'd had during high tea hadn't had much substance to them. And there was no point in being stubborn about food right now, just because he was upset with what had happened with the dildo. Tyler had always been able to shake off difficult experiences and quickly move on to the next thing. You had to have a short memory in the information brokering business, after all, and you couldn't let every little thing bother you into submission, and you couldn't take things personally... "This wine looks good," Connie continued. She shook the bottle slightly in her hand, as if trying to get Tyler to notice the label. "Argentina, 2109. That was a good year, if memory serves." "All right, all right," Tyler groaned, letting go of his knees and swinging his shapely legs over the side of the bed. He felt a tiny streak of vaginal juices dripping onto his thighs and then onto the bedsheet. He tried to ignore the sensation. "Just... give me a minute." "Like I said, take all the time you need," Connie said. She sat in the chair on the far side of the table, grabbed an automatic corkscrew from the service tray, and began opening the bottle of wine. Tyler went to the bathroom and cleaned himself up as best he could, then examined himself in the mirror. Everything above the neck looked like a train wreck, hair splayed all over the place and face downcast with the knowledge of what he'd just done with Connie. He tried, unsuccessfully, not to look at what was resting in the marble bathtub. Connie joined him in the bathroom a moment later after replacing the lids on the plates to keep everything warm. She wrapped her arms around Tyler's waist and rested her chin on his shoulder, and the two of them looked at the mirror, at themselves and at each other, Connie wearing her Pyramid Suites robe and Tyler completely nude. Connie hugged Tyler tightly and smiled at him through the mirror. Tyler could barely manage a tiny smile himself. He wasn't feeling particularly happy right now. "You can start without me, if you're starving," Connie offered. She let go over Tyler's waist and stroked the tops of his large breasts with both hands as she stood behind him, gauging his reaction in the mirror. "I need to use the facilities, though. Shouldn't take me more than a couple minutes." She patted Tyler's ass, clearly prodding him to leave the bathroom and give her some privacy. He walked back into the main part of the suite, closed the door behind him, and hugged himself again. He looked around the room, at the wet evidence of sex streaking the bedsheets, at the service cart next to the table next to the window, at all the clothing that had been strewn across the floor... He made the decision to get dressed again, and not in the hotel bathrobe. He didn't want to show any more skin that absolutely necessary right now, not to Connie or himself or anyone else. He couldn't fathom another round of sex tonight, even if Connie wanted to keep going, even if she... paid for it. Which she had already done. Tyler was now, officially, a prostitute - someone who had performed sexual acts with client who had paid for the privilege. It made him feel slimy, completely unrefined, despite all of Amber's justifications for doing what she did. Despite all her pleading with Tyler not to think less of her, or Zoe, or any of the other girls at Ringed Amusements. He didn't think any less of them - Amber had thoroughly convinced him not to, in the sports bar on the 73rd floor after the event in the lounge - but he was starting to think much, much less of himself after what he had just done with Connie. The mutual cunnilingus had been one thing, but that session with the dildo... that monstrous, veiny purple dildo... "Stop," Tyler said to himself, taking his mind of what he had already done and refocusing on what he needed to do now. He searched through the piles of discarded clothing and found his underthings. He stepped into his white panties and pulled them up to his waist, then fastened his D-cup bra together and brought the straps over his shoulders. He adjusted his breasts to make sure everything felt comfortable and secure, then picked up his sea-foam green dress and carried it over to a large mirror on the far wall. It was strange, Tyler knew, that he wanted to put on a dress... desperately wanted to put on this pretty goddamn dress... and as quickly as possible, too, in order to regain some semblance of security, of protection from whatever Connie might have in mind for the rest of the evening. Stepping into the dress, Tyler pulled the bodice over his breasts and put his arms through the sleeves. He reached behind himself for the zipper and was able to pull it up about halfway before his arms wrenched, prohibiting him from getting it up any further. He turned around with his back to the mirror, looking at the reflection and searching for a way to pull the zip the rest of the way up without dislocating his shoulders. At that moment, Connie emerged from the bathroom and looked over at him, slightly disappointed at what she saw. "Are you leaving?" she asked, a hint of sadness in her voice. Tyler looked over at her and stopped struggling with the zipper. He gripped his skirt with one hand and his bodice with the other, trying to keep the dress from falling off his body again. "No. I'm just a little cold. I figured I should get dressed again for dinner, anyway." "Ah. That's thoughtful of you. Here..." Connie said. She walked over to the full-length mirror and had Tyler hold his hair up as she pulled the zipper the rest of the way. The bodice hugged Tyler's tummy and breasts again, giving him a feeling of being put-together once more. A feeling of safety, of warmth. He was so, so glad to be wearing his pretty green dress again, and he felt complete once more after he slid his two-inch pumps on his feet. Satisfied with the way he looked and felt, and confident that his attire wouldn't lend itself to Connie getting any more ideas about sex for the rest of the night, he walked over to the dinner table with his skirts swishing about his calves. He sat down, holding his skirt as he did so. Connie joined him at the chair opposite Tyler's, still wearing her bathrobe. "Well," Connie said, brandishing her fork. "Eat up. You've earned it." Tyler gave her a weak smile and scanned the table. He and Connie each had a set of cutlery and plates, along with a soup bowl and several glasses - one for water, one for white wine, one for red. Connie lifted the bottle of Argentinian wine and poured Tyler's glass first, then her own. Desperate for some more stress relief, Tyler downed half of his glass in three gulps before Connie could even return the bottle to the service tray. Connie took notice. "All right, Violet," she said, shuffling her own wine glass to the edge of the table, to give her a completely unobstructed view of her date. "You're obviously extremely bothered about all this." Tyler didn't feel like talking, but tried anyway: "It was just a very weird experience, is all. With the... dildo. And with you." "Understandable," Connie said. "You'd never been penetrated before." Looking up with sympathy-seeking eyes, Tyler shook his head. "No. And, if we're being completely honest..." "We are." "...I didn't think I ever would be. I mean, if you'd told me a week ago that I'd do that, I wouldn't have believed you. Not in a hundred years. And it's not like I'm a prude or anything. Trust me, I'm not. But I just had no interest in doing something like that until..." Connie lifted her wine glass. "Until what?" "Until just now. Here. With you. And I feel a little bit better about it because of that... because you were the one here with me. We're obviously very attracted to each other..." "I can drink to that," Connie said, and she took a swig of wine. "Right. So that makes it a little bit easier on me. It's not like I was with someone I didn't like, some random client who... worked things out with Jackson so that sex was on the menu first and foremost. And it's not like I was with, you know... a man." "Definitely not," Connie said. She placed her wine glass back on the table and lifted the lid on the serving plate nearest her. "Listen, Violet, there's something about the human condition that you need to accept: we like what we like. Some people like taking long walks in the park by themselves. Some people like going to loud concerts and dancing around in other people's sweat and body odor. Some people like leaving Greece and finding a pretty young Italian girl to spend their life with." She lifted a piece of fish off the serving plate, placed it on her plate, and offered the remainder to Tyler. "And some people, present company included, like to lay with attractive young women and hold hands across the girth of a double-ended big purple dildo and fuck themselves to breathlessness. The worst thing you can do in this life is be ashamed of the things you enjoy the most. It's a fantastic way to stay mired in self-inflicted suffering... suffering that's completely unnecessary. So my advice to you, Violet, is to be honest with yourself about how you feel right now, and how you felt back there in bed with me. If you really didn't enjoy it, by all means, vow never to do anything like it again. However..." "I get it," Tyler said, scooping the rest of the fish onto his own plate. "I get what you're saying, Connie. It's just a lot for me to process right now. I've had a very... confusing last couple of days." "I know. I know you have. But the trick to surviving the difficult or confusing times in life is to hold on to the things you love. To find pleasure where you can. Right?" Smiling weakly, Tyler looked back at Connie, who was grinning widely back at him. "Right," he said. And they dug in to their food. Connie gathered that Tyler wasn't much in the mood to talk anymore, so she let him eat in silence while sitting back and observing him, just observing... ***** Tyler ate as much as he wanted, as Connie had intentionally over- ordered so that each of them could enjoy several bites of several different things. His stomach felt tight and bloated under his dress when it was all said and done, and he held his tiny tummy through the wispy green fabric as the clock on the wall rolled over into the middle of the evening. He and Connie spent some time looking out the window into the black of space and the dim shapes of Saturn's moons. Eventually Tyler stood up and told Connie he should probably be going. "You can't spend the night?" Connie asked, half-pleading as she spoke. "Come on. It'll be fun." "I'd like to," Tyler said. Connie looked back at him with a disbelieving look on her face. "No, really. I would. I wish I could. But I have another thing tomorrow. There's a rocket coming from Earth and we have to..." "Fine, fine," Connie said, waving her hand. "I see how it is. Get me to pay for all the fun today and then leave the first chance you get." This was Connie's twisted idea of flirting, Tyler thought. He giggled at her, turned on his heels, and went to the bed again to retrieve his purse... but Connie didn't let him get that far before she grabbed his hand and pulled him gently into the bathroom, where she propped him in front of the mirror and grabbed a hairbrush from the side of the sink. "You're not going out there looking like that," she said, brushing through his hair. It had frizzed up severely over the course of their lovemaking, and Connie expertly calmed it down after a few dozen strokes with the brush. "Better. Would you like to freshen up your face, too?" "I think I'll be fine," Tyler said, looking nervously at the various tubes and jars of Connie's cosmetics that festooned the sink top. He wouldn't even know where to start if he had to put on his own makeup. "It's just a quick walk to the elevator. I shouldn't run into anyone important on the way home." "Suit yourself," Connie said. They walked back into the bedroom again where Tyler grabbed his purse. Connie escorted Tyler to the door, holding his hand all the way, gripping it in a way that let Tyler know that she really, truly didn't want him to leave. Part of Tyler wanted to stay the night, too... but he needed to regroup and recover, and he really did have to work that shuttle-greeting event in the morning. He squeezed her hand as they reached the door, stepped out into the hallway, and turned to face her. "I had a great time today," Tyler said, holding both of Connie's hands in his own. Connie smiled happily back at him. "I mean it. You introduced me to a lot of things I'd never done before, and... I enjoyed them way more than I ever thought..." "You're welcome," Connie said. "I appreciate your willingness to go along with everything. It certainly helped with what I set out to do." Tyler turned his head slightly. "You mean the whole 'observing' thing?" "Observing, yes. And I was also trying to get inside your head a bit. Trying to empathize. I really wanted to know what it was like for a girl, who was never allowed to live as a girl, to try a more prim-and- proper lifestyle... to fully experience a tiny portion of what femininity is supposed to be about. Now, obviously, you had to go along with just about everything I threw at you, since I'm the client and you're the... professional." "Sounds like something Jackson would say," Tyler interjected. "Perhaps. Anyway, the observations I had today were tainted a bit by our... working relationship, for lack of a better term. I'd be interested to see how you would have reacted to things if we had just been two acquaintances out on the town together, and if payment for your services hadn't been part of the equation." Tyler considered this for a minute. "I don't know, Connie... I think I would have acted the same even if I wasn't getting paid to do this. I honestly haven't even thought about money the entire time we've been together today." "You're just saying that." "I'm really not. Connie, listen... what I've told you about myself, and growing up on Mars and all that... it's just a small part of the whole story. You don't know everything about me, just like I don't know everything about you. This is the truth, though: I've never experienced anything like the things we did today. All of it. The salon, the tea house, and the... everything that happened after that. I've never had a day like this. I've never had anything CLOSE to a day like this. It was so foreign to me that I literally couldn't think about anything else all day long. I was completely in the moment the whole time, even starting with when I was getting myself dressed before I came down to meet you. And I say that as someone who's usually thinking about a million different things at a time. The money looked good when Jackson and I were first discussing the job, yeah, but I haven't thought about it since then. Today was... just too... captivating, I guess." Taken aback, Connie loosened her grip on Tyler's fingers. "Captivating. Well, now. That's quite the compliment. Assuming it's a compliment, and not a subtle way of saying that you felt like my prisoner." "No, no, no," Tyler said, shaking his head seriously. "Definitely not." "I'm glad to hear that, Violet," Connie said. Tyler could see small tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She was getting quite emotional about this. "That'll help make the empty side of the bed feel slightly less empty tonight." They looked at each other lovingly for a moment. Tyler couldn't get over how much he liked Connie. She was roughly the same age as him (usually, not currently), she had a great wit about her, she was classy, wealthy, interesting, well-kept, beautiful... Jesus, if only Connie wasn't a lesbian, if only Tyler still had his male body, if only they were here on Saturn Beta together as a couple on vacation, enjoying the amenities by day and enjoying each other by night. For a moment, the uncomfortable memory of the big purple dildo vanished from Tyler's head and he was able to just think about Connie and how much he wanted to leap right back into the suite and stay the night with her. He settled instead for a long, romantic kiss with her that caused her to whimper pitifully. Connie held Tyler's face as they kissed, not wanting to let go. Eventually she did, and Tyler walked away from her suite, toward the lobby of the hotel, waving behind him one last time as the brunette head of Connie Giordano disappeared from view. An immense longing latched onto Tyler as he walked out of Pyramid Suites and into the 20th floor foyer. By the time the elevator arrived and he stepped into the car, he found himself awash in melancholy. ***** The ride up the elevator was uneventful, and it gave Tyler time to clear his head and refocus his attentions. "Okay," he said to himself, retrieving his tablet from his purse and pecking through the menus. "So I made... that much today. And I'll make that much tomorrow at the meet-and-greet thing in the morning..." Tyler was kidding himself, trying to focus on the business side of things at a moment like this. His thoughts kept drifting back to his day out with Connie, all the new things he had tried... and how much he had enjoyed it all. He stared at his tablet, trying to think about money, getting off this station and back to Miami... trying not to think about what he looked like, and what he was wearing, and the satisfied feeling throughout his pussy, and how big his breasts were, and how good it felt when Connie massaged them and pinched their nipples... "God dammit!" he said, banging the back of his head against the rear wall of the elevator car. He began lecturing himself under his breath. "Stop it, Tyler! Stop it! Just... stop it! You're just in a bad spot right now. And you're doing what you always do: making the best of a tough situation. Quit torturing yourself. Just go with it. You had fun today. You had a good time. There's nothing wrong with..." He looked down at himself, at his flowing dress and his burgundy leather purse, at his pink-painted fingernails and his attractive sea- foam green pumps. He couldn't finish the thought. There WAS something wrong with this. It was all wrong! One hundred percent, completely wrong. He was a man, dammit, a thirtysomething-year-old man, engineered against his will into the body of an early-twenties girl, gallivanting around a space station wearing skirts and dresses and... and fucking French maid costumes. And yes, the session with the big purple dildo had done a number on him and made him extremely self-conscious about the pleasures inherent in this body, but he couldn't get over how much he enjoyed it. How much he was enjoying just about everything... This was fucked up, this was so fucked up... The elevator dinged upon arriving at the 48th floor. Tyler took a deep breath and waited for the doors to slide open. When they did, Tyler saw a man waiting for the elevator on the other side. He recognized him... Paul. Paul, from the lounge event, the guy who knocked out the greasy- haired man who had tried to feel Tyler up. Tyler felt a thud in his stomach as Paul looked back at him. The recognition was clearly mutual. "Oh, hi," Paul said, backing away from the entrance to the elevator car. "Sorry. I'm in your way." Tyler bunched his mouth into a weak smile and began walking out into the foyer. "It's fine." "Hang on," Paul said. He came alongside Tyler, causing Tyler to stop in surprise. God, what now? "Did something happen?" Paul asked, leaning in to get a better look at Tyler's face. Tyler turned on his heels and looked up at Paul, who wore a kind, concerned face. Tyler looked down at his pretty shoes and ran a thumb between his shoulder and his purse strap. "No," he said. "No. I'm just tired. I'm okay. Just on my way back to my room." "You're a shitty liar," Paul said. He reached for Tyler's shoulder, causing Tyler to flinch and hop back a step. "Whoa. Sorry. Look, if something happened, you can tell me about it. I can..." "Paul," Tyler said, knowing exactly where this was going. Paul was doing the nice-guy savior routine, the knight in shining armor, trying to sweep Tyler off his feet. Tyler had made that kind of move a hundred times in his previous life. It didn't work well then, and he wasn't about to let it work now that he was on the opposite end of the routine. "Look, thank you for helping me in the lounge. It was very... nice of you. But I'm not interested. Okay?" Placing his hands in his pockets, Paul looked back at Tyler suspiciously. "Good. I'm glad to hear it. That'll make it much easier for us to talk about stuff, since neither of us are interested in taking it any further. Trust me on this, all right? You can tell me anything. Me above everyone else on the station, to be perfectly frank. We really should probably talk. I'm honestly surprised Jackson didn't send you over to see me before we met in the lounge." "Oh yeah?" Tyler said, folding his arms under his large breasts. "And why's that?" "Because your name is Violet Taylor." "Yeah, and? What does that have to do with anything?" Paul scanned the foyer of the 48th floor, as if looking for something specific. After a moment, he pointed toward a small coffee shop on the other end of the foyer. "Let's get some coffee. You give me five minutes of your time, and if it's not a productive conversation for you, I promise never to talk to you again. Deal?" "Paul," Tyler groaned, "I know what you're trying to do." "No, you really don't. Five minutes." Tyler shook his head lightly and looked down at the floor again, trying not to feel the recirculated station air wafting up his flouncy skirt. He looked over at the coffee shop Paul was pointing to. It was a tiny storefront, with the tables outside the door. Tyler could easily make a quick escape if Paul tried something ungentlemanly. And he knew he wouldn't be rid of Paul until Paul had a chance to speak his mind. Still, though, Tyler wasn't in the mood for whatever Paul had in mind. "Bye, Paul," Tyler said, and he left him in his wake, clicking along the breadth of 48th floor foyer, making his way to spindle #7. He didn't bother turning to see Paul's reaction. Tyler just wanted to get out of here, get back to the relative safety of his room in the dormitory, get out of this dress and these heels, and just crawl into bed for a while. Paul could fuck off for the time being, as could the rest of the men currently populating the 48th floor, many of who watched Tyler closely as he strode past them in his two-inch heels. He reached his room a few minutes later after a somewhat uncomfortable walk through the spindle. It was funny, how the dorms at Ringed Amusements provided a safehaven for him compared to the rest of the station. A glorified whorehouse, run by a woman who had changed Tyler's sex without warning or permission, and he still felt like this was the safest place on Saturn Beta. He exhaled dramatically upon closing the door behind him and seeing the interior of Amber's and his room once more. It felt like forever since he'd been back here. Amber was gone, Tyler guessed. Otherwise she would have latched onto him the instant he entered the room, prodding him for details. Tyler was glad for the privacy. He kicked off his heels, went over to his bed, and slumped into it without smoothing his skirt behind him. Soon after he was out cold, deep in the sleep of someone who was mentally, physically, and in all other ways exhausted. ***** Tyler woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Amber padding around the kitchen in bare feet. He groaned as he rolled over in bed, realizing that he was under a pair of blankets now. Amber must have seen him laying on top of the bed, still wearing his dress, and decided she didn't want him to get cold. Tyler pulled the blankets over his shoulders and hummed contentedly to himself, all warm and comfortable in his bed. "Violet?" Amber said, piercing the relative silence with her perky voice. "You up, darlin'?" "Hey," Tyler said, still sounding half asleep. "Yeah. I'm up." "When d'you need to be at that thing today?" "Um," Tyler said, rolling over in bed again, reaching over the side of his bed to grab his purse. He extracted the tablet and fingered through it until he found his Jackson-designed schedule for the day. "Two hours still." "Should be an easy job. I've done those meet-n-greet things before. You'll probably be in and out in a couple hours, tops. Got anything else happenin' afterwards?" Looking through the rest of his schedule, Tyler saw it was completely empty. "Nope. Jackson said she was going to sign me up for any follow- up events for this one, though. Like if they need anyone to serve drinks or..." Tyler tried to remember Jackson's exact words, and they made him cringe a little. "Or being a booth babe." "Oh, sure, that's usually how it works," Amber said. "They won't be needin' you for any of that for at least another day, though. You should probably pick up some other jobs in the meantime, now that it's gettin' so busy around here. Oh, speakin' of busy, how was your girl's day out yesterday?" Tyler took a deep breath and pulled the blankets off himself, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and resting his bare feet on the floor. "It was... good," he said, staring at his sparkly pink toenails. The memories of the day before came rushing back, and he tried not to let them overwhelm his thoughts. "Good? That's it? You don't sound too enthused." Amber said. She walked over to the small round dining table with a cup of coffee in her hands, then sat down. She was wearing her signature powder-blue baby doll. "C'mon, Violet. Make with the details. And for the love of all that's good, take that dress off! Criminy, your mother would have a fit if she knew you'd plopped into bed wearin' an elegant, fragile thing like that." Tyler giggled and shook his head, looking down at his light green tea- length dress. "Yeah. That's the truth. She'd throw a fit if she knew I was wearing this." He stood up, gave Amber a snarky glare which she returned in kind, and reached behind his neck to undo the zip at the top. Soon he was out of it completely, wearing only his panties and bra. Amber pointed out a garment to him that was hung up on a coathook near the door - it was the pink silk kimono-style robe he had worn the other day, after Jackson's nanobots had done a number on his body. Tyler walked over to the coathook and put the robe on, cinching it around his tiny waist. "Well, look at that," Amber said, taking a chug of her coffee. "It even matches your pretty little fingernails. Look at you, all color- coordinated." Tyler rested a hand against his short robe. Yep, his fingernails matched the pink fabric of the robe, almost exactly. He smiled faintly at this. After grabbing a cup of coffee for himself, he sat at the dining table with Amber and crossed his legs. "It was good," he said, picking up where he left off. "We went to the salon, and then we had tea..." "Violet, what's the rush?" Amber interrupted. "This ain't a race. Tell me about it. Don't just give me a list of what you did." Tyler took another deep breath and decided to give into Amber's demands. He told her about the moment he met up with Connie in the hotel lobby, the way she watched him walk... then his first sit-down with Pierre, where the stylist seemed impatient and annoyed with Tyler's uncertainty about his hair. Amber sighed dreamily when Tyler got to the part about sitting in the massaging recliner while having his hair shampooed and conditioned. Then he told her about the mani- pedi portion of their salon appointment, when Connie convinced Tyler to have his nails done pink, while Connie herself had hers done to match Tyler's dress... "Aww," Amber said, reaching across the table to take Tyler's hand. "That's so cute! Don't you think so? What an adorable thing for her to do." Tyler shrugged. "I guess so. I thought it was kind of weird, honestly." "No. It's not weird. It's sweet. Sometimes I get my nails done to match a guy's tie or cufflinks, if it's a really classy date I'm goin' on with him. It's a nice gesture. Nothin' weird about it." "I'll take your word for it," Tyler said. He continued his story - the makeup session, Pierre's complaints about his "boss lady" being a huge bitch to him, the elevator ride up to the 138th floor, the rude Greek men that Connie told off in their own language... "What'd they say?" Amber interjected. "When they were in the elevator with you." "I don't know," Tyler said. "It was in Greek." "Well, yeah, but Connie understood it. She yelled it back at them, right?" Tyler thought about it for a moment. "She never told me. I don't know what she said to them or what they said to us." "Weird," Amber said. "Okay. Tea." "Yes, tea," Tyler continued. "Not much to say. The tea was good, the sandwiches were good. It was the first time Connie and I really had a chance to talk to each other. She kept asking me about... my childhood, and growing up on Mars. She seemed really concerned about how..." Tyler paused, trying to come up with the best way to meld the truth of the day's activities with the lie of who he was pretending to be. "How I'd never had the chance to be a woman. I told her about my life on the mining colony and how all we ever did was work, work, work. She thought it was child abuse, or slavery. Which it was, maybe. So she asked me which one I liked better, between being forced to act like a man and being allowed to express myself as a woman." Amber leaned back in her chair. "Okay... well? So which one do you prefer?" "This, obviously," Tyler said, looking around the room shiftily. "This beats Mars. By far." "I should hope so. Shoot. Ten minutes in one of those massagin' chairs is better than just about anythin' you'd find on Earth or Mars or anywhere else in the system." "I suppose. But Connie was just... really concerned about it. About how I'd never had my nails done, or had my hair done by a stylist, or put on makeup..." "You'd never put on makeup?" Amber said, horrified. "Lord Almighty, I'm with Connie on this one. That's child abuse." Tyler thought back to his life in Miami - a few days ago! It was just a few days ago! - and tried to relate it to his situation now. The lines between his real life story and his fake life story were starting to blur. "It wasn't so bad, Amber. I liked it there." Amber scoffed. "Yeah. Sure. You liked it well enough to get the hell out of there and sign up with Jackson the first chance you got." "That's not why I left." "Why'd you leave, then?" Tyler scrambled to think of something. "Because... they found out about me. About how... how I liked girls." Jaw hanging open in disbelief, Amber nearly dropped her coffee mug. "What? They kicked you out of the colony 'cuz you're a lesbian?" Tyler nodded. "You... unbelievable. That's just plum unbelievable. What the hell year is this? People really still give a good goddamn about somethin' like that? What's their problem? Religious nutjobs? Is that it?" "I don't know," Tyler said, shaking his head, glad that his newest lie was sticking but worried at how worked up Amber was getting. "Some people were upset by it, though. Mostly it was the women. Having kids is a big deal back home. Gotta populate the planet and keep the colony growing, you know. So if there's a girl who doesn't want to have kids, or doesn't want to get married at all..." "What a bunch of cavemen," Amber said. "I'm so glad you got out of there, darlin'. I know you say you liked it there, and... I believe you, I guess. But things're better for you here. They should be better, right? And seems to me that you've caught on pretty good with the job and with the other girls. 'Cept for Lola, but that's par for the course with her." "Yeah, it's fine here. I like it." "You're not gonna go back, are you? To Mars? Once you've paid off Jackson, I mean. D'you have somethin' lined up someplace else?" Tyler took a deep breath and spun his coffee mug around in his hands. "No. Not really, no. I'm basically stuck here until something better comes along." "Y'think they'll come for you? Your people back on Mars?" "No," Tyler said, shaking his head. "Nah. They wouldn't fly all the way out here just to teach me a lesson." He looked off to the side, fully remembering the slip-up that forced him to come out here in the first place. The name of Gordon Rosenthal rang through his mind. "Hopefully not." "Hmm," Amber said, thoughtfully glancing out of the window at the other end of the dorm. Tyler appreciated her concern, even though it was unfounded. That was Amber's motherly, protective side coming out once again. She kept staring out the window for a minute or two before piping up again. "Okay, so, you finished your tea. Then what?" Tyler snapped back to attention. "Okay. We finished our tea... then Connie said she had to take care of some business. So we were in the elevator, and she was messing around on her phone, and I..." Tyler felt himself getting excited about this part - how he had struck a pose for Connie's eyes only, jutting out his breasts and lifting his skirt above his knee, using his newly-acquired feminine wiles to try to... seduce her. He wondered if he should tell Amber about this part. He also wondered why he had skipped over the key event of the first elevator ride with Connie, from the 20th floor to the 138th, when he and Connie had passionately made out with each other. Tyler recalled the feeling of Connie's thigh pressed in between his legs, against his pussy... the feeling of their breasts mashed together, kept separate only by the fabric of Connie's blouse and Tyler's dress... the feeling of Connie's other leg hooked around his back, giving him easy access to feeling her up under her blue plaid skirt, all the way to where her skin ended and her panties began. He found himself flushed at the memory of it. "I just stood there," Tyler said. Amber seemed confused at Tyler's long pause, but chose not to interrupt. Putting on his best poker face for the rest of the story, Tyler continued: "Then we went back down to her room on the 20th floor. We hung out there for a bit and had dinner. Then I came back here." "Hmm," Amber said, studying Tyler's face. "So, did Connie try to get frisky with you?" Tyler was expecting this, and he put a hand over his large chest in mock horror. He tried to emulate Amber's southern accent for added effect. "Well, Amber, how very forward of you. I'll have you know that Connie Giordano is a lady of the highest caliber and would never even dream of doing something so crude." Amber laughed long and hard at this. Tyler hoped to end that portion of their breakfast conversation without getting any further into the details. Because, yes, Connie had tried to get frisky with him, several times, often at the response of Tyler's own direct urging. He had hinted at his desire for physical intimacy with Connie many times throughout the day, just as she had hinted right back at him... and they had acted on those desires before they ever got into bed together in Connie's suite. And then, upon arriving there, things had escalated quickly and permanently. Tyler now daydreamed fondly of the way Connie looked in the nude, the meticulous way she had serviced him with her tongue and lips, they way her pussy smelled and tasted when Tyler was allowed to return the favor... then the long, slow, passionate session they had immediately afterward, exploring each other's bodies and taking each other to orgasmic bliss again and again. And then the part with the big purple dildo, which Tyler had tried to forget... but he couldn't, because it had felt so good, so unbelievably good no matter how much he wanted to deny it. He had loved the sensation of being penetrated, filled, pumped... and he would have loved it even if it hadn't been Connie on the other end of that dildo. Realizing this made him newly disappointed in himself. Suddenly his face turned serious and he stopped reliving the previous day. Amber had just finished laughing. "Okay, okay, I get it," Amber said, wiping a tiny tear from the corner of her eye. "You don't wanna kiss 'n' tell. I get that. But, darlin', we gotta work on your Southern accent. That was just terrible." Tyler grinned back at Amber and stared into his mug of coffee, feeling the unmistakable moistening and swelling sensation between his legs, under his robe. He had become excited during his little daydream. Recrossing his legs and refocusing his attention, he took a sip of coffee and addressed Amber again. "Yeah. Well, so, that was about it. Came home, hopped into bed, woke up, talked to you. That's my recent history in a nutshell." "Well, somethin's not right, then," Amber said. "Weren't you supposed to go to the symphony or somethin'? And shoppin', too." She leaned forward on the table. "Were you able to get any jewelry for me?" "Oh, right," Tyler said. "We never made it to either of those. Connie had to... cut things short. Because she had to keep working, I guess." "So no, then. Fine how-do-you-do. I really coulda used a new pair of earrings... well, anyway, that's a shame that she had to work. She had a whole day planned out for the two of you and had to cut it in half. How sad." Amber sucked the last dregs out of her coffee mug and went back into the kitchen for a refill. "I wonder if Jackson'll give her a partial refund or somethin'. Or a credit on her next, uh, purchase. Was Connie gonna call for you again?" Tyler swallowed some coffee. "Call for me?" "Yeah. As in, set up another date with you. To do all that stuff you were supposed to do today but didn't have time for. Wasn't she doin' some kinda science project with you? Observin' you, or whatever?" "Oh, right," Tyler said. "Um... yeah, I don't know if she wants to see me again. Maybe. I don't know how long she'll be here on the station." "What do you think if she does? Would you wanna see her again?" "Yeah," Tyler said, without hesitation. "Yeah. God, yeah." "Well, okay there, little miss enthusiastic. Don't get your hopes up too much." Amber sat down at the table again. "Lotta these guys who come out here for a little fun - and the girls too, of course - they make you feel like a princess for a while, and then an hour later they're on the next rocket to Earth like nothin' ever happened. That's the danger with freelancin', Violet. You can't get too attached to your clients. Even the ones who give you repeat business. Even if you really, really like 'em." Tyler rested his mug on the table. "What about you, though? Don't you have that one guy who you really like? Who always asks for you?" "Him? Well... I dunno, Violet. I mean, I like him, sure. That's a given. But I wouldn't be too broken up about it if I never got to see him again. And it probably wouldn't bum him out too much if he never came back to the station again. It's just the way things are, this line of work. Some lonely guy, layin' with you in bed, looks deep into your eyes and tells you he's in love with you... you just gotta let that roll off your back and not think about it too much." She looked seriously at Tyler. "There ain't no fairytale endings for girls like us, Violet. Not until we quit the business and move on to somethin' else." She sucked down a mouthful of coffee and looked out the window again. She said, "That's okay, though," and said it wistfully, longingly, like she didn't believe the words coming out of her own mouth. ***** Amber left the dorm room soon after, saying she had an appointment to get to. Tyler knew what she meant by "appointment" and didn't press for any more details. He was glad to be rid of her, if only because it meant he wouldn't be on the hook to speak any further on the subject of his date with Connie Giordano. He checked the clock on the wall and realized that he'd been talking to Amber a lot longer than he thought. He had to start getting ready for his job today. He rose from the breakfast table and looked around the room for his purse. Upon finding it, he checked the tablet again for details on the day's job. He had to be on the 117th floor, at the main docking spindle, working for a company called Associated Gas & Mineral. There was no mention of what he needed to wear. He considered contacting Jackson to see if she knew anything else about the meet-and-greet, but decided against it. She was probably already busy with plenty of other things. Tyler chose to take a shower, and he figured his pink kimono was appropriate enough attire for the trip back and forth from the shower room. He gave himself a quick scrub and rinse, trying to ignore his new feminine body as his hands moved around on its various peaks and valleys. Drying himself off, he re-tied the kimono around his waist. Then he was back in the dorm room again, brandishing Amber's hairbrush and trying his best to tame the mess of wavy auburn hair atop his head. Once done there, he set to getting dressed. The tea-length dress seemed much too formal for whatever he would be doing today, he decided. Not that he had become an expert on women's fashion after a measly few days of being forced to cover himself with it... but he just knew. And the other outfit he'd been wearing lately - red sleeveless top, black skirt, and sandals - didn't appeal to him at all. He'd worn it too much lately, and Amber had advised against that. He agreed with her on that one. It would only serve to make him look and feel like a lazy slob. He remembered that the delivery robot from yesterday had brought several hangers worth of clothing up for him. That clothing was still where it had been yesterday, near the door. Tyler went over and flicked through the plastic-covered garments, looking for something appropriate and hopefully not too slutty. There were jeans, crop-tops, another couple of dresses, some long skirts, short skirts, medium skirts... eventually he settled on what he thought would be the best bet for an outfit that wasn't too formal, too casual, or too attention-grabbing. It was a business suit, quite similar to the kinds of things Jackson was always wearing. The color was something between orange and dark red, which Tyler wasn't thrilled about, but the skirt was long enough to touch his knees and the blouse and jacket would cover his entire upper body. That was more than what could be said about most of the other outfits on the rack. He took the hangers off the clothes rack and set to the task of getting dressed. After disrobing, he found a fresh bra and panty set in a tasteful white color and put them on, still not quite accustomed to the sensations of corralling his large breasts or settling his underwear above his flat groin. Getting into the off-white satin blouse, he buttoned it up and then stepped into the skirt, which he struggled to get into. It clung tightly to his thighs and hips as he pulled it up, and then fit him even tighter after he pulled the zipper over his rear. Walking around in something so form-fitting would be another new experience for him, as if he hadn't already had enough of those lately. He then reached for the jacket, which he put on and buttoned. This was tight, as well, much tighter than any suits he had worn when he had been a man. He walked over to the full-length mirror at the rear of the dorm room and could definitely feel the constriction of his skirt as it hugged his upper legs to the tops of his knees. He found himself needing to take shorter steps, just as if he had been wearing high heels. He saw himself in the mirror at last and looked carefully, making sure everything had settled right. If Amber's cami and tap pants set made him look like a bumblebee, this suit's coloring made him look like a pumpkin. The suit accentuated all his curves from neck to knee, making him seem at once professional and feminine, ladylike and sexy. It looked fantastic on him, he had to admit... though he probably would have looked just as appealing wearing an old burlap sack. There wasn't much that this feminine body of his wouldn't have looked great in. He knew he needed some shoes, and he went through the pile of boxes that Amber had ordered up for him. So many colors, styles, heel heights, and materials... it overwhelmed Tyler just rifling through the options. Eventually he picked out the only pair that went with the rest of the outfit - white pumps, with heels at least an inch higher than anything he'd worn since his transformation. They matched the white trim of the business suit he had on, and they added another element of class to the rest of the ensemble. He slipped them on and walked up and down the length of the dorm room a few times to get used to them before slinging his purse over his shoulder and heading out the door. He walked down the staircase with a bit of difficulty. He felt taller in these shoes, slightly unsteady, but it wasn't anything he couldn't get used to with enough practice. And these heels still weren't as high as the ones Tanya had been wearing during the lounge event, or the ones Lola always wore while selling her services in the foyer of the 48th floor... And speaking of Lola, she was nowhere to be found today, as Tyler made his way to the elevator. Perhaps she had the day off, or had already picked up a john and was off somewhere "freelancing" with him. The thought of that made Tyler's skin shiver, and he instantly flashed back to his time in bed with Connie the night before. Connie and her big purple double-ended dildo... Tyler shook the memory out of his head and boarded the elevator for the 117th floor. He stood against the rear of the elevator car, knees held tightly together by his form-fitting pencil skirt. Other passengers got on and off as the ride upward progressed. Many of the men who boarded the elevator gave Tyler thorough glances, concentrating mostly on his breasts and his calves. It made him uncomfortable, a bit angry... and slightly proud that he had clearly succeeded in picking out a good outfit for himself. It was the same pride he had felt yesterday after Amber had dressed him in that sea-foam green dress, feeling very confident in his appearance and knowing how attractive he looked. Today, though, he had done everything himself, no outside help required. Eventually he found himself smiling at all the men who were checking him out in the elevator, just in a friendly way, not flirtatiously. Though he knew all too well how men confused friendliness with flirting... The elevator soon stopped at the 117th floor, and Tyler walked through the crowd of passengers on the elevator, his gait in the heels causing his ass to sway tantalizingly as he moved. He looked over his shoulder and caught every male in the elevator car staring at him. He turned back to face forward again, and smiled victoriously to himself. No, he shouldn't have enjoyed that experience, and should have honestly been creeped out by it... but the novelty of being able to make men pay so much attention to him had yet to wear off. It made Tyler feel capable and powerful in a way he had never felt back in Miami. He needed to use this to his advantage, not just use it to hide from Gordon Rosenthal. He had told Dennis before that he was going to try to get some work done during his exile - real info-brokering work, not just waitressing and hostessing - and his new assets could certainly help with that. He made a mental note to scope out the people who were arriving on the rocket today, evaluate them, see if any of them would make a good mark for a profitable side job. Checking the foyer signage for direction, Tyler found his way to the docking spindle and psyched himself up for his third day on the job. He kept walking down the spindle, past several individual docking stations, until he recognized a familiar face - it was Renee, the naughty black nurse from the lounge event. Tyler waved weakly at her, hoping she'd recognize him. She wore a tight white crop-top with equally tight jeans and a pair of wedge sandals. Tyler suddenly felt way overdressed. "Hey!" Renee said, waving Tyler over. "Hey, girl. It's Violet, right? How've you been?" "Yeah. Violet. Okay, I guess," Tyler said, shrugging. He maneuvered his legs and feet in order to keep from falling over on his heels. Renee noticed his slight unsteadiness and gripped his elbow to help him stay upright. "How're you making out after the other day? Getting lots of work?" "Uh, yeah, kind of," Tyler said. "You?" Renee snorted. "You have no idea. God damn. I'm gonna buy a house after this convention is over. Had six jobs yesterday, one this morning, and then I have, like, four more once this thing is done." She motioned at the docking station just across the way. "You're working this?" Tyler asked, following her pointed finger. "The meet-and-greet?" "Yeah. You?" "Yup. That's why I'm here." Renee scanned Tyler from head to toe, studying his jacket, blouse, and pencil skirt. Smiling, she said, "You sure about that? Looks to me like you're headed to an interview." "Hey," Tyler said, smiling back and placing a hand on his hip, "some of us like to act and dress professionally when we're at work." "Oh ho, so she's got jokes, now," Renee replied, smirking. "Well sure, I guess it doesn't hurt to look good. God knows I like to do that, myself. But you know they're just gonna dress us up in something else anyway." "What do you mean?" Renee took a deep breath. "All right. So, these guys, they represent a company that invited this other company to tag along with them at the convention. Our client wants to impress these other guys. The ones arriving on the ship are investors; the clients employing us are some kind of... I don't know... research and development partnership, or something like that. Doesn't really matter. One group trying to get money out of another group, that's what it comes down to. So usually, the guys employing us for jobs like this have a certain look that they want to go for. Casual, or professional, or slutty..." Tyler winced slightly at Renee's last word. After that event in the lounge, where Tyler was goaded into wearing a revealing French maid's uniform, he'd had more than enough of the slutty look. Renee continued: "So they'll tell us ahead of time, usually, so we can get dressed properly for the event. If that doesn't happen, then Jackson will send them our measurements, and the client will have custom outfits printed for us." She looked over at the docking station opposite. "That's what I'm guessing will happen, once everyone shows up. These kinds of jobs, it's usually identical outfits. We'll be wearing the same thing." "That makes sense," Tyler said. "That's why the 'attire' section in the job listing was blank." "You got it. So now we sit back and wait for everyone to show up. By the way, when Jackson marks the time of arrival on your job listings, it's always a good ten or fifteen minutes early. She likes us to be the first ones there. Leaves a good impression, according to her." Renee unslung her large, leather purse and pulled her tablet out. She frowned at it for a moment. "Associated Gas and Mineral. That's the client. Ever heard of them?" "Only when I looked up the job today," Tyler said. "Hmm," Renee said, unsatisfied. "Well, stay on the lookout. I'm guessing they'll show up any minute now... yup, right there." Renee nodded down the length of the spindle. An older man in a tailored suit, carrying a satchel and staring intently into his own tablet, came stomping through the hall. Upon arriving at his determined docking station, he looked around dumbly as if hoping to be divinely inspired by something. Renee tapped Tyler on his shoulder and said, "That's our man. C'mon."