Welcome To Saturn Beta - Part 10 free porn video

Tyler entered the wardrobe at the far end of the printing press and immediately saw someone else in there, riffling through the plastic- covered clothes hangers. A shock of red hair turned to see who had just entered. "Hey, Violet," the redhead said. Well, speak of the devil, Tyler thought to himself. There she was. "Hey, Zoe," Tyler said. He walked between the racks of clothing and came alongside her. "How's it going?" "Good, good," Zoe said, grinning mightily back at him. She was wearing a green crop-top and a tight black miniskirt with short black boots, giving Tyler a great view of her attractive midriff and her long, pale legs. She also had a crystalline piercing in her belly-button which Tyler couldn't ignore. It looked extremely sexy, and Tyler wondered briefly how he would look with his own navel pierced... "Been busier than hell after that event in the lounge," Zoe continued, as Tyler pondered the possibility of adding another piercing to the relatively new holes in his ears. "Those convention scouts decided not to report back to their bosses before... sampling the goods around here, if you get my drift." "Yeah," Tyler said, patting the flat tummy behind his blouse, finding his own belly-button with one of his pink-painted nails. "Renee said she's been really busy, too. And Amber." "I'll bet. I think everyone's pretty busy right now. I've got a job in about ten minutes, myself. You?" "I'm booked, too. Soon. Not quite as soon as ten minutes, though." "Yeah," Zoe said, putting her hands on her bare waist and frowning at the garments on the rack in front of her. She pointed at a red minidress under a plastic cover, pulled it off the rack, slung it over her shoulder, and verbalized her thoughts: "Tomorrow. Need this for tomorrow. Okay. Well, Violet, I'm gonna go see if Paul's had breakfast yet." Tyler looked at her sideways. "Paul?" "Yeah, Paul," Zoe said, putting a hand on her hip. "You know, the guy who punched the..." "I remember," Tyler groaned. "Yeah. Well, thing is, that man works so much that he forgets to eat sometimes. I have to look out for him or he'll starve to death. I'm basically his over-protective big sister." She shook her head jokingly. "Okay, well, I'm off to the races. You have yourself a good day, Violet. Stay safe." And Zoe was off, just like that, into the printing press. Tyler knew she'd get plenty of stares from the workmen, dressed the way she was; but, of course, none of them would dare do anything but look... especially if she was as close with Paul as she claimed. Left alone in the wardrobe, Tyler folded his arms under his breasts and tried to decide where to begin. He had at least two things he wanted to acquire for his date with Connie. First - shoes to go with the sundress he'd picked out. There were many tilted shoe racks lining the walls of the wardrobe, and Tyler scanned one rack intently, looking for something in particular. He had thought back to the wedge sandals Renee had worn to the meet-and-greet today, and figured something like that would compliment his dress. He eventually found a pair with pink straps that matched the floral pattern on the dress, then took them off the rack and tried them on. The heel on these was about as high as his white pumps, and the pink leather straps took some wrangling to get into, but they fit well and looked fantastic. Not only would they go well with his sundress, but they matched the pink nail polish on both his toes and his fingers. "Perfect," Tyler said, under his breath. He got out of the wedges and placed them in the suitcase, then got into his pumps again. Satisfied with his first find, he looked around the wardrobe for his next goal - sleepwear. Something to wear to bed tonight... though he knew sleep would be the last thing on Connie's mind, and his own. Soon he found a rack full of chemises, babydolls, cami-and-tap-pant sets, and myriad other things that were cheekily categorized as "sleepwear," as if any of the girls at Ringed Amusements wore anything on this rack with the sole intent of falling asleep in it. Tyler eventually selected a sheer black babydoll, something he thought Connie would like... and something he couldn't wait to see himself in, if he was being honest. His masculine ego was powerfully overshadowed by his newfound curiosity and fascination with how amazing he looked in women's clothing. Something in the back of his mind needed to look sexy and feel desirable in the eyes of Connie. He knew this babydoll would do the trick, and he glided his fingers across the nearly-transparent fabric, then brought it up to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. "Mmm," he moaned, instinctively, loving the feel of the nylon against his face, wondering how much better it would feel when his chest and torso were completely encased in it. But he had to snap out of his fantasizing now, and get himself up to the 20th floor to meet with Connie. He placed the babydoll into his borrowed suitcase, found a sexy black lace pair of panties to go with it, threw that into the suitcase atop the babydoll, zipped everything closed, and went back into the printing press... where the workmen stared once again, and the attractive feminine form of Tyler Hillman ignored them all and strode confidently through the machinery in his pumpkin skirt suit and white high heels, undeterred and eagerly anticipating his date with Connie Giordano. He looked sexy now, and he would look even sexier later tonight, and would still look sexy when he woke up tomorrow morning and put on his sundress and wedge sandals. He reveled in the thought of it as the service elevator opened and he stepped on, turning around to rest his backside on the car railing, facing the workmen, jutting his breasts out proudly, letting them have one more look at the sexy woman they'd never have a chance with. ***** Tyler arrived on the 20th floor and rapidly walked through the doors of Pyramid Suites and into the luxurious lobby. He expected to find Connie in the chair she'd been sitting in previously, but that wasn't the case. She was standing next to a room divider, body pointed at the sliding doors, head turning this way and that as if searching for means of distraction. She had a dress on today, light blue with an attractive paisley pattern, looking almost like something Tyler's grandmother might have worn. Connie looked great in it, though, and it suited her eccentricity and weird sense of irony. She tapped her sea-foam fingernails nervously along the divider, an anxious look on her face, as Tyler approached. The anxiety vanished from Connie once Tyler came closer. "Violet," Connie said, smiling big and pushing off the divider. "Thank God. I don't think I could have waited much longer." "Hi, Connie," Tyler said, as Tyler let go of his rolling suitcase and both of them gently wrapped their hands around their lover's waist. They kissed then, lightly but passionately. Connie pulled away first, five seconds after the kiss had begun. "Jackson told me you'd be coming," Connie explained. "She didn't say when, though. She said you had another job this morning, and she wasn't sure when you'd be done, and..." "Connie," Tyler interrupted. "I'm here now. See? That's what matters." Connie backed away a step. "Agreed," she said. Tyler found it almost unbearably cute, how flustered she obviously was, how much she'd been anticipating their reunion after less than a day of being apart. Much less than a day. Tyler felt like he had just left Pyramid Suites a few hours ago, and yet here he was again, in the arms of a woman who was clearly infatuated with him. He loved the feeling of it all... of being anticipated, of being desired. He had never felt this way as a man, so he was going to live it up as much as he could while he was a woman, and while he was with Connie. "So," he said, gently rubbing the sides of Connie's waist. "What are we up to today?" "I'll tell you about it," Connie said, taking Tyler's hand in hers and leading him through the lobby. Tyler dragged his suitcase behind him. They went left down the hallway after the reception desk, then took a right down another hallway, as Connie's long skirt swished around her ankles, occasionally flickering against Tyler's bare shins. Tyler could feel a moistening heat growing in his vagina, and he luxuriated in it, knowing what was probably to come. Connie eventually let go of Tyler's hand when it came time for her to swipe her key against her room door's sensor. She opened the door, ushered Tyler in, and bade him to place his suitcase and purse anywhere he wanted. She stood near the bed, hands folded over her dress and eyes locked squarely on Tyler's face. "We have a little time," Connie said. "We can talk about the plans for the day later." "Fine with me," Tyler said. He could feel his nipples hardening and his pussy heating up more as the anticipation rose inside him. "There's a theory," Connie said, stepping toward Tyler, as her voice took on a breathy tone. "A theory about sex, I mean. After a man has sex, his desire for sex goes down. Diminishes. He needed to have sex, then he climaxed, and now he doesn't need to have sex again." Connie reached out for Tyler and took hold of the fabric of his suit jacket. Her lithe fingers worked around the buttons, unfastening them, until the lapels popped away from each other, released from the pressure of overlaying Tyler's large, full breasts. Tyler gasped a little at the sensation as Connie continued her lecture. "Whereas females, on the other hand, are slightly opposite," Connie said while unbuttoning Tyler's blouse, starting with the lowest button, taking a long time with it... much longer than necessary. Tyler found himself breathing harder, faster, heavier. "The more men have sex, they less they feel the pressing need to have sex all the time. Whereas for women, the more they have sex, the more they want to have sex." "Oh," Tyler sighed, as Connie reached the middle button of his blouse. Her fingers drifted to the soft skin under Tyler's bra. "That's the theory, anyway," Connie said, looking enticingly into Tyler's hungry eyes. "It's a good theory." "I think so, too," Connie replied. The final button of Tyler's blouse came undone, and Connie pushed the white blouse and the burnt-orange jacket off Tyler's shoulder and onto the floor. Tyler stood in the middle of Connie's suite wearing only a bra, pencil skirt, panties, and heels. And his jewelry, of course. Connie stuck a finger under Tyler's pearl necklace and traced along the strand, smiling seductively up at Tyler as she did so. "I like the pearls," Connie said. "They look good on you." "Everyone keeps saying that," Tyler said, breathlessly. "Everyone is right." Tyler laughed lightly as Connie wrapped her arms behind his back, pinching his skirt zipper between her fingers and pulling down slowly, teasingly, until the skirt loosened enough to fall off Tyler's wide hips, down his legs and onto the floor. He stepped out of it and stood before Connie in his lingerie and heels. Connie leaned into his ear. "Now do me," she whispered. Tyler obeyed, reaching behind Connie's neck and finding the zipper there. He tilted his head and kissed Connie as he pulled the zipper down, and Connie took Tyler's face in her hands and kissed right back, their tongues seeking each other out passionately. Eventually the zipper was all the way down, and Tyler groped at Connie's blue paisley dress, tugging it down beyond her shoulders and below her waist. Connie's lingerie was the same light blue as her dress. Tyler traced the length of Connie's tummy with his manicured fingernails until his hand felt the beginnings of her panties. He reached a single finger into the elastic, past her pubic hair, and over the warm lips of her waiting pussy. Connie's own fingers followed suit, reaching into Tyler's panties and brushing his clitoris. Tyler gasped in erotic surprise... he still wasn't quite used to his feminine equipment down there, even though it had brought him so much physical pleasure over the last few days. Connie pulled at Tyler's panties, urging him over to the bed as she looked at him with flirtatious desire in her eyes. Tyler stepped out of his heels and allowed himself to be lead to the bed, where the two of them knelt on the blanketed mattress and looked hungrily into each other's eyes. Then Connie was upon Tyler, kissing him forcefully while sneaking a hand behind his back and undoing the catches on his bra. Tyler reached behind Connie's back as well unhooking her bra the same way. Then they were up on their knees, furiously making out with each other as their bra straps spilled over their shoulders and down their arms. Tyler's large breasts pressed against Connie's smaller ones, their hardened nipples rubbing and flicking against each other as their passionate kissing continued. "Lay down," Connie commanded as she came up for air. Tyler eased down onto the bed, face up with legs spread, panting heavily in anticipation. Connie hovered over him for a moment before putting her knees on either side of his head, facing his panty-covered crotch. She hooked her thumbs into the elastic and pulled the panties down. Tyler felt the cool air of the hotel suite over his entire body now, completely nude and anxious for release. His own hands went up to Connie's panties, and he rubbed Connie's pussy through the thin material for several seconds before gently pulling the underwear off her hips and down her shapely legs. Then, before Connie could take the lead on the obvious next step, Tyler wrapped his arms around Connie's ass and pulled his head upward into her quivering pussy, where her buried his nose in her slit and began tonguing her labia with enthusiasm. Not to be outdone, Connie immediately put her own mouth on Tyler's hot, wet cunt and began sucking, licking, nibbling... Tyler found it difficult to stay focused on the task at hand while Connie attended to his pleasure so expertly. But he kept at it, gasping in ecstasy as he ate the pussy before him as Connie did the same thing, her head just a few feet away from Tyler's, her tongue and lips working in tandem to bring Tyler to climax. Tyler rolled Connie onto her side for easier access to her pussy, and the two lovers continued their ministrations on each other's nether regions. Connie wrapped her legs around Tyler's head, and Tyler repeated the action himself. Many minutes went by. Tyler felt the warmth building in his body as he neared orgasm, and Connie twitched as her own climax approached simultaneously. He picked up the pace with his oral efforts, sucking and licking and nibbling, trying to mimic the technique that Connie was using on his clitoris, hoping that he could bring Connie to orgasm before she could do the same for him. There was something competitive about this moment, he knew - both of them wanted to prove their prowess between the sheets... even though nobody was between any sheets right now, and even though neither of them really had anything to prove to the other. This was just lovemaking between two gorgeous women, on the surface, but there was something else there, something about Connie that made Tyler know that she really, really wanted to finish Tyler off before he could do the same to her. Tyler went at her pussy with gusto and abandon, refusing to lose. And he won, eventually, a couple minutes later. Connie's body shuddered and she moaned openly in incredible pleasure, her voice muffled inside Tyler's legs and snatch. She redoubled her efforts immediately after the initial pleasure subsided and ate Tyler's pussy with a new, determined energy. She let go of Tyler's ass and eased a finger into his vagina as she continued licking his nub, causing Tyler to gasp again at the sensation of being penetrated in tandem with having his clit stimulated. Then she added another finger and Tyler's climax coursed through him, his rapturous cries echoing through the suite. Connie continued eating and fingering his cunt until Tyler came all the way down from his pleasurable heights. He lay there in the afterglow, smiling contentedly and stroking Connie's thighs with his manicured fingernails, as he listened to Connie regain her breath. No words were exchanged - just the silent, mutual pleasure of jobs well done. Many minutes later Connie once again brought her face to Tyler's hot pussy and began her ministrations anew, licking the outer folds and sucking on the engorged clit. Tyler twitched in surprised and bit his lower lip. Connie was still competing, he knew... since she wasn't able to bring him to orgasm before she received her own, now she wanted to prove herself as the one who could give her lover the most pleasure rather than the quickest pleasure. Tyler allowed it, for a moment, luxuriating in Connie's attention, gasping and moaning girlishly, and waiting as long as he could to let her feel like she was winning their erotic contest. The warmth grew in his body again, and he pulled Connie's crotch to his face and began repeating his motions from before while paying careful attention to what Connie was doing with her fingers. He tried to mimic her as she slobbered over his clit with her mouth and probed his steaming insides, pressing on his G-spot, causing him to involuntarily shudder and gasp. Eventually Connie's mouth retreated entirely and she worked on Tyler's pussy with just her fingers, rubbing and pressing gently... and his second orgasm crashed down on him solely from Connie's fingers, long after she had pulled her head away from inside Tyler's legs. He screamed in ecstasy and found himself turned into a quivering mass on the bedsheets, unable to continue his efforts on Connie's pussy. Unable to do much of anything but lay there on the bed, staring at Connie's pubic mound inches from his face, his mouth wide open and his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. He wondered if this qualified as the French thing Connie had talked about after their first lovemaking session yesterday... le petit mort, the little death. He could die happy right now, he thought. Shuddering, gasping, warm, and happy. Connie soon rolled around on the bed until she was facing Tyler. She looked at him deviously in the dim light of the suite and scooted toward him, kissing him deeply, their saliva and pussy juices mingling as they made out. Connie came up for air a moment later, stroked Tyler's long auburn hair, looked deep into his eyes, and said, "I win." "Jesus," Tyler said, still not quite settled into the incredible experience Connie had given him. "Yes. You definitely win." "Good to see you again." "You too." "Well," Connie said, stroking one of Tyler's engorged nipples with her sea-foam fingernails. "Playtime's over, I'm afraid. Time to get on with the rest of it. Are you up for more feminine pleasures today, Violet?" "I'm up for anything," Tyler said. "Anything you want." "That's my girl," Connie replied, kissing Tyler one last time. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up and go over the schedule." ***** Tyler and Connie peeled themselves off the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, regaining themselves, then walked into the bathroom with their hands around each other's waists. Tyler removed his pearl earrings and necklace, deciding it was okay to leave the diamond studs in his ears. They stepped into the shower and entwined their bodies again, breasts pressed against breasts, hands circling hips, foreheads touching, eyes closed. They stood under the falling warm water for a few minutes, silently enjoying the company. Tyler replayed the earlier lovemaking again and again in his head, trying to focus on the good parts, scarcely believing how much he had enjoyed it. For all the annoyances he'd had to put up with in this female body, his time with Connie had made up for it, and then some. She was so attentive to him, so enamored with him, such a fantastic partner that Tyler could hardly remember the circumstances that placed him here in her suite - that he was technically a prostitute, and Connie was technically a client, and this was all merely a mutually beneficial financial transaction from which Jackson would be taking her cut. None of that mattered now, though... all that mattered was the moment, the coming together of two bodies and two minds. Tyler understood, at last, why so many of the Ringed Amusements girls had been working here for so long. Jackson's rules empowered the girls to see who they wanted to see, when they wanted to see them, in whichever capacity the girls agreed to. There was a power there, power in choice and discernment. None were mere hookers - not even Lola, who tried her hardest to appear just that way. The girls of Ringed Amusements were allowed and encouraged to do whatever they wanted, and that made them desirable to the base of clients who could afford their attentions. None of this would have been as fun for Connie if Tyler hadn't been able to say no to her. Tyler knew that everything that happened between him and Connie, over the past two days, had been a massive ego boost for her. That's why she looked so content now, purring happily as she rested her wetted head against Tyler's D-cup breasts. Why she was so satisfied in the review she sent to Jackson earlier this morning. Why she was so eager to bring Tyler to multiple orgasms. Because landing a one-on-one appointment with a girl from Ringed Amusements was a statement of status, and wealth, and of penetrating through the layers of protection Jackson afforded to her employees. Connie had done that, and Tyler could see the pride on her face and the relief in the way she breathed. He pulled away from her and looked deep into her eyes, kissing her gently, the same as he had done in the hotel lobby when he'd first arrived today. "Do I make you feel good?" he asked her, over the falling rush of warm water, well aware of the answer. "Of course, Violet," Connie said, stroking Tyler's chest. She hesitated for a moment, looking askance, before asking a question of Tyler. "Do I make you forget?" Tyler titled his head. "Forget?" "Yes. Forget about the rest of your life. Of how things were for you, back on Mars. About whatever trouble and difficulties you're going through now, or have gone through in the past." Tyler thought about it for a split-second, about his various recent predicaments - Gordon Rosenthal and the botched info-brokering deal, Jackson turning him into a woman without his permission, his current employment as a high-class waitress, hostess, and prostitute... he hadn't thought about any of that since a couple hours ago, when Jackson mentioned that Tyler would be seeing Connie again. He hadn't thought about the emergence of Ben Rosenthal or the pressing need to discuss things with Dennis, either. All of that had fallen to the wayside at the promise of having another date with Connie Giordano. Even as he thought about all of it now, after Connie had prodded him to do so, none of it really bothered him. Just life circumstances, none of which were insurmountable or worth getting stressed out over. Some of his circumstances were even enjoyable, if he was being honest... "Definitely," Tyler said, and he meant it. He studied Connie's nude, water-soaked body in the growing steam of the shower. "You definitely help me forget, Connie. I haven't thought about anything else since Jackson booked me for you." Connie looked back at him slyly. "You're just saying that." "I'm not. And I was daydreaming about you, earlier today. When I was at another job." "Hmm," Connie said, now looking slightly annoyed. "Another job?" "Not that kind of job. We were just helping some mining company hand out packets of information to some people who're here for the convention. Mindless work. Gave me a lot of time to... think about other things." "And you thought about me?" "Yeah. God, yeah." Connie smiled, gave Tyler a quick peck, and reached for some shampoo. Satisfied with the answer, Tyler thought. He went for his own handful of shampoo and worked it into his long auburn hair, keeping his back arched so Connie could see his tits better. ***** After washing and drying themselves, Connie and Tyler returned to the main part of the suite and began to get dressed. They stood in front of the same full-length, double-wide mirror, putting on bras and panties, watching each other get ready for the day. Connie helped Tyler button up his blouse and Tyler returned the favor by zipping up Connie's dress from the rear. Soon the two gorgeous ladies were fully dressed, ready to get going on their hair. They sat at the suite's vanity, side by side. Connie let Tyler borrow one of her brushes, and he did the best he could with it, taming his tresses until the frizziness was gone. Connie attended to her own hair with a mess of combs, smaller brushes, and spray bottles. "Now," she said, once she had finished with her hair and begun on her makeup. "The plan for today." "I'm all ears," Tyler said, examining all the various utensils and products Connie had brought to the station with her. The entire countertop of the vanity was littered with hair and makeup items. If she brought this much with her when she went on vacation, Tyler wondered how much she kept at home. He tried not to think about it too much as he threaded one of his dangling pearl earrings through his left lobe. "There are a few things you have yet to experience," said Connie. "Things that we'd planned on for yesterday, but got pushed to the side in favor of... other activities." Tyler smiled at the memory of yesterday... the hair styling, the makeover, the manicure and pedicure, the high tea on the 138th floor... and then the sex afterward, the surprising, passionate, unexpected, toe-curling sex... a slight moan escaped from Tyler's lips as he remembered. "So we're making up for that today," Connie continued. "Shopping, dinner, and a show. I was able to reschedule all of it without difficulty, fortunately for us. I still hope you're up for all of that." "Sure," Tyler said. "Like I said, I'm up for anything." "Good. I'm so glad you're interested in trying new things, Violet." She looked at him directly, through the mirror, as she ran her nails through her hair one last time. "Many girls in your position, who had never experienced the more feminine, refined side of life... well, most of them would resist, to put it lightly. We are creatures of habit, after all. People generally want to keep living the way they've always lived, even if it's a miserable existence. It's a good thing that you're eager to leave all that behind and make a new life for yourself... even though it's probably not the life you would have chosen willingly, given the option." Tyler sighed, looking at his beautiful, big-breasted reflection in the mirror. "No. This definitely isn't how I thought things would turn out when I left. That's an understatement." "Well, look on the bright side. Surprises can be good things sometimes. Unmet expectations can lead to unexpected benefits. You are enjoying yourself, after all." Tyler turned to Connie, feeling another onset of genuine honesty overtaking him. "Definitely. I'm enjoying it way more than I thought I would." "You sound surprised." "I am surprised. Believe me." "I do." She rose from her chair at the vanity and bade Tyler to do the same. "I'm just glad I could be along to introduce you to all the pleasures that true femininity has to offer. And I'm glad I got to watch you enjoy them as much as you have." She leaned forward and kissed Tyler lightly on the lips, and the two of them beamed at each other like two lovestruck college coeds, thrilled to have found each other among the crowds and noise. Tyler would have been plenty satisfied with just staying in the suite all day - talking, eating meals together, staring out the windows into the starry black, making love - but he knew Connie had other plans for him. More venues in which to "observe" him, no doubt. And he was looking forward to going out to dinner with her, after all, and the symphony might be interesting as well. There would certainly be more sex later tonight - after all, Connie had requested that Tyler pack an overnight bag. You don't make a request like that unless you have plans to make it necessary. Tyler simmered at the thought of further lovemaking with the gorgeous woman before him. Maybe it was true, what Connie said about the difference in sexual appetites between men and women. Now that he'd been with Connie a few times, he was anything but exhausted at the prospect of more. "Now," Connie said, taking Tyler's hands in hers. "We have one small matter to take care of. You can chalk this up to my eccentricities, or to my desire to give you one more of those uniquely feminine experiences I keep prattling on about." "All right," Tyler said, shrugging in his skirt suit. "I've taken the liberty of... well, here," Connie said. She let go of Tyler's hands and went to her purse, where she extracted a keycard and brought it over for Tyler to see. It was gold in color, stamped with the Pyramid Suites name and logo. Connie handed it to him. "What is it?" asked Tyler, weighing the card in his hand. "A key," Connie said. "To your room." "My... wait, what? My room?" "Yes," Connie said. "Your room, here at the hotel. There is a tradition, after all, of the pretty young girl being picked up for her date after spending hours and hours getting ready for it. You haven't had that experience yet. You and I have always just met each other in the lobby of the hotel and then gone off to our plans immediately afterward. That won't be the case tonight. Before we go to dinner and the symphony, you will get yourself ready and then I will arrive to escort you." "But... Connie, the rooms here cost a fortune. This is a really nice place." "It is. But you're a really nice girl. And you're worth it, as far as I'm concerned, though I'll readily admit that frugality isn't my strong point." "Uh... okay," Tyler said, tilting his neck a bit. "I think I'll chalk that up to your eccentricities, like you said." Connie smiled back at Tyler. "Just like having your nails done or going for high tea, getting picked up at your own place for a fancy date is something every girl should experience at least once. Even us degenerate dykes." Tyler laughed openly at this. "Okay, Connie. I'll take your word for it." "Yes, you will. So, there's your keycard. You're in room five-twelve. I don't think the rooms up there are quite as luxurious as the ones down here, but it's all I could get for you on such short notice." "I'm sure I'll survive." Connie smirked at Tyler. "Okay. Let's get your bag and take it upstairs." ***** Connie insisted on handling Tyler's bag for him - trying to take on the more masculine side of the relationship, Tyler gathered, what with wanting to pick him up for their dinner-and-a-show date later tonight, and now doing all the heavy lifting as well. Tyler wondered if she'd soon be pulling out chairs for him, putting her coat over puddles for him, opening car doors for him... not that there were any cars here on Saturn Beta. They eventually arrived at room 512 - a nice room with fine furnishings, though not nearly as large as Connie's luxury suite - dumped Tyler's bag off, and went back downstairs to the lobby and the 20th floor foyer beyond. Tyler looked across the foyer to the San Hernandez Memorial Symphony Hall, where his date with Connie would culminate later tonight. He was still amazed that they could fit an entire symphony hall on an orbital space station... then again, Saturn Beta was absolutely gigantic, each of its 150 main floors being much taller and wider than what was expected of an office or apartment building. Tyler wondered what other kinds of crazy things were on offer that had no business being on a goddamn space station... a fullsized replica of the Statue of Liberty, maybe, or a baseball stadium, or a warm sandy beach... Connie followed Tyler through the foyer, onto an elevator, and down a few floors from the 20th to the 14th. The doors opened to a massive shopping complex, fancily decored with at least twenty stores visible immediately. Several hallways went off in various directions, several escalators went up and down from the main foyer. The whole place hopped with activity and noise - this was the most crowded floor Tyler had been to since arriving on the station. "We have an appointment," Connie said, scanning the various stores and hallways, "with someone who calls herself a 'fashion and style consultant'. Oversold term for a shopping assistant, if you ask me." "Hmm," Tyler said, folding his arms under his breasts. "Okay. Which store?" "Down here," Connie said. She pointed at a hallway on the far end of the foyer. She and Tyler walked toward it, shoulder to shoulder. Tyler had finally found comfort and stability atop his three-inch heels and walked easily through the spindle, surrounded by several more boutique- styled shops. These seemed even fancier than the ones in the foyer, and had foreign names that Tyler couldn't hope to pronounce. He knew a bit of Spanish after living in Miami for so long, but that was it... Connie took Tyler's hand and led him into a shop called Incantevole. Tyler looked up at the backlit sign as he and Connie went through the automatic double doors. "It's Italian," Connie explained, seeing the confusion in Tyler's eyes. "Incantevole means a few different things... charming, entrancing... there really isn't a proper English word for it." "Huh," Tyler said. Inside the store were elaborate mannequins, circular racks, shelves lining the wall, and everything else one would expect from a clothing store. Everything looked very well-made, very attractive, and very expensive. One thing struck Tyler immediately - everything in here was exclusively women's clothing. It was nothing but dresses, skirts, blouses, form-fitting pant suits, swimwear, shoes, jewelry, and even a small section for lingerie. He'd never been in a store like this before, and he suddenly felt very self-conscious? like he didn't belong here, like he was an impostor. Which he was, he supposed, though nobody could tell that from looking at him. Still, he became very aware of himself and his surroundings as Connie took him deeper into the boutique. ?Miss Giordano!? someone said, coming up from the rear. The fashion and style consultant, Tyler assumed. She waved as she approached, smiling excitedly. She was an older woman ? older than Connie or Jackson by a decade, at least. Her hair had started graying in streaks, but she managed to make it work and look dignified rather than purely old. She wore a tailored skirt suit, quite similar in style to the one Tyler had on now, though deep purple in color. ?Hello,? Connie said, holding her hand out as the consultant approached. ?You must be Fran.? ?I am,? Fran said, shaking Connie's hand enthusiastically. Tyler stood there dumbly, smiling. ?Nice to meet you. And you as well. Hi.? She stuck her hand out to Tyler, who took it and shook. ?Hi. I'm Violet,? he said. ?Violet. Pretty name.? Fran clasped her hands together. ?All right. So, what are we doing today?? Connie cleared her throat. ?Well. My friend Violet here needs a few things. Her wardrobe is? lacking, shall we say. That's a good word for it. Destitute is another. She arrived on the station a few days ago with nothing but the clothes on her back.? ?Oh dear,? Fran said, jerking her head in concern. Tyler looked at Connie with an annoyed look on his face. ?Yes, indeed,? Connie said. ?So we need to do something about that, of course. I was hoping you could help us out in that regard.? ?Certainly,? said Fran. She looked over at Tyler, who was feeling more of an impostor by the minute. ?Well, welcome to Saturn Beta, Violet. Is that true? You only had one change of clothing with you when you came?? ?Um...? Tyler said, thinking back to the pile of clothes he left on Jackson's exam room floor, the day he arrived on the station. He wondered what had ever happened to them. ?Yeah. Just what I had on. And my phone.? Concern wrinkled Fran's face. ?Gee. Sounds like you had to make a quick escape.? ?Something like that,? Tyler and Connie said simultaneously. They looked at each other and smirked. ?Well, no problem. We've got a little bit of everything here,? Fran said. She began to walk off into the nearest section of clothing, which looked like casual daytime wear ? pullover blouses, tight jeans, and whatnot. ?Let's start with the...? ?Hold on,? Tyler said, lifting his hand. Connie and Fran looked at him, confused. ?What is it?? Connie asked. ?Look, um,? Tyler said. He tried to think of the best way to phrase this without insulting Connie's generosity? or hinting to Fran about where he worked. But he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, not spend all day playing dressup in a place where he clearly didn't belong. ?Just so everyone is on the same page, here? I really don't need much. I have friends that I can borrow from. I've been borrowing a lot of clothes lately, and it's been working out, and I don't want to waste your money, and...? ?Violet,? Connie said, touching Tyler's elbow, trying to comfort him. ?Money isn't an issue. Trust me.? ?Yeah, but...? ?I understand,? Fran said. ?We don't have to run through every rack in the entire store. Just enough to get you back on your feet again, okay? One or two outfits for every occasion.? She nodded at what Tyler wore now ? his pumpkin-colored skirt suit. ?You've already got something to wear to the office, looks like. But you can't wear the same thing to work every day, right?? Tyler looked shiftily off to the side. ?I suppose not.? Picking up on Tyler's discomfort, Connie cleared her throat and chimed in. ?Violet's office has a relatively casual approach to dress code, Fran. She can wear just about whatever she wants to work. Though, yes, I agree? she can't wear the same thing every day. She's not a man, after all.? Fran and Connie shared a muted laugh at this. Tyler forced an awkward smile and folded his arms under his large breasts. ?God, men have it so easy,? Fran said. ?Don't they? A couple suits, a dozen shirts, a pair of jeans, a handful of ties, three pairs of shoes, and you're all set for every possible occasion. It must be nice.? She stepped forward, put one hand on Tyler's shoulder, and looked at him and Connie in turn. ?The rest of us, though, have to work a little bit harder at acquiring and maintaining a respectable, functional wardrobe. It's just the way it is, I'm afraid.? ?Afraid isn't the right word,? said Connie. She turned to Tyler, who was still sulking a bit. ?Afraid makes it sound like a bad thing. It's enjoyable more than it is annoying, Violet. Waking up to a new morning, opening your closet, picking out the perfect thing for the day ahead.? ?I guess so,? Tyler said. Connie looked over at Fran. ?Can you give us a moment?? ?Oh sure,? Fran said. ?Tell you what ? I'll head over this way and start picking out a few things that I think might look good on you, Violet. You just come over and see me whenever you're ready.? Fran wandered off into the nearest section, spacing herself far enough away from Tyler and Connie to remain out of earshot. Connie moved closer to Tyler, stroked his elbow, and looked at him sympathetically. ?I'd ask what's wrong,? she said, ?but I'm pretty sure I already know the answer. You don't want to be here.? ?Connie...? Tyler said, once again trying to find the right way to express himself without blowing his cover, insulting Connie, or being unprofessional. ?No. I don't. I'm not sure how else to put it? I just don't belong in a store like this.? ?Says who? Your parents? Your awful childhood back on Mars? You basically wore the same outfit every day of your life, right?? Tyler thought back to what Fran said a minute ago, about how men hardly needed any clothing choices at all in order to make their way through life. He thought back to his oceanview condo in Miami and the walk-in closet in his bedroom? one rack for shirts, one for pants, a couple drawers to hold his underwear and socks. He had a couple suits? and, wow, Fran had been right on about the handful of ties and the three pairs of shoes, now that he really thought about it. He had three pairs of jeans, though, not just one. Two pairs of jeans. He had worn one pair on his trip to the station. They had been left in that pile of clothing in Jackson's exam room. ?Yeah,? Tyler said, snapping back to the present. ?Basically. Same outfit, every day.? ?Well, that's not the case anymore,? Connie said. ?Now you get to wear whatever you want, whenever you want. Assuming it's appropriate to the occasion, of course. I hope never to see you in a string bikini while attending a funeral.? Tyler laughed softly at Connie's joke, and finally unfolded his arms. ?But you would like to see me in a string bikini, probably.? ?Well, then, I suppose we should get one for you while we're here,? Connie's perverted, lecherous side returned to her face and the tone of her voice. ?One that emphasizes 'string,' if it's not too much to ask.? Tyler thought for a moment of how he would look, wearing an abbreviated bathing suit, but quickly shook the image out of his mind. He still saw himself as a pudgy man in his mid to late thirties, and the thought of a string bikini on that old and busted body of his caused Tyler to turn up his lip in disgust. ?So,? Connie continued, ?do you feel all right? Ready to do a little bit of shopping?? ?Sure,? Tyler said unconvincingly. ?But, look, Connie? what I was saying earlier, about borrowing clothing from people. We have a big wardrobe, back at Ringed Amusements. Like, huge. There are a ton of things to wear. Everything I've worn since I came to the station has come from there. This suit, the dress I had on yesterday? the French maid outfit?? ?Yes, Violet, I know,? Connie interrupted. ?But none of it belongs to you. I want you to have some things that are all your own. Otherwise you end up feeling like a poor little girl who always has to wear her older sister's hand-me-downs.? Tyler was tempted to argue with Connie about this and get her to see reason. He wanted to tell her about the printing press on the 5th floor, the one that had printed an orange skirt suit identical to Tyler's in the span of a few minutes so that he and Renee would have matching outfits. And he could have told her about Amber, his roommate who was more than happy to let him borrow her clothes, as well? though all of Amber's clothes were probably just from the wardrobe anyway. There was really no need for someone like Tyler, with Tyler's job, with Tyler's living situation, with the printing press and the wardrobe on the 5th floor at his disposal, to have his own closet full of expensive clothing. Especially since he'd be leaving it all behind, anyway, once he had paid off his debt to Jackson and gotten his old body back. ?Indulge me, allright?? Connie begged, shaking Tyler's elbow. ?Indulge me by indulging yourself.? Tyler nodded, knowing there was no way out of this unless he wanted to invoke Jackson's rule #1, which he didn't consider to be a good option. He wanted to make Connie happy, even if it meant some minor discomfort on his part. He liked her enough to go through this for her. And she was the client, after all? the paying client. The very, very, very well-paying client. ?Besides, you said you were up for anything today,? Connie reminded him. ?I hope you're not backpedaling on that statement.? ?I'm not,? Tyler said. He unfolded his arms and walked with Connie back towards Fran, who was picking through a series of clothes hangers on a circular rack on the other end of the shop. Fran smiled at them as they approached. ?All set to start?? Fran asked. She moved away from the rack and came closer to Tyler and Connie. ?Great. Where should we begin?? ?Well,? Connie said before Tyler could say anything, ?she does need a little bit of everything. Only arrived on the station with the clothes on her back, as I mentioned earlier.? Fran nodded. ?Easy enough. We'll start from the start, then. Let's get your measurements.? ***** Fran ushered Tyler and Connie into a private dressing room in the rear of Incantevole. It was the largest, fanciest dressing room Tyler had ever seen, without question. It had a curving section of full-length mirrors in one corner, a padded bench for sitting down and watching the proceedings (which Connie was all too happy to make use of immediately ? reverting to her ?observation? mode, Tyler gathered), a vanity mirror with a shelf and stool in front of it, a steel clothing rack with several empty hangers on it? and a refrigerator, a goddamn refrigerator right there in the corner of the dressing room, from which Fran extracted three chilled bottles of water. ?There's wine, too, if anyone's interested,? Fran said, handing one of the water bottles to Connie. She placed the other two bottles on the shelf in front of the vanity. ?I might be convinced to have some wine later,? Connie said. ?Not now, though. Water's fine for me.? ?I'm fine,? Tyler said. He studied himself in the mirrors in the corner. There stood Violet Taylor, in her pumpkin-colored business suit and white heels, breasts jutting proudly outward and legs exposed below the hem just above the knees, wearing tasteful pearl jewelry and looking every bit the professional lady. Tyler pressed his fingers together, looked at Connie in the reflection of the mirrors, and waited for her to say something, give him some direction? ?Okay, Violet,? Fran said. She took a length of measuring tape out of a pocket on her purple skirt and held it in both hands. ?Let's get you measured. Can you get undressed, please?? Tyler frowned. ?Sure,? he said blankly, and then he set to taking off his jacket, which Fran retrieved from him and placed on one of the hangers from the empty rack. Next he unbuttoned his blouse and handed that over as well. He then reached behind his waist and unzipped his skirt, stepping out of it and his shoes, which left him standing before the mirrors (and his audience) wearing nothing but his matching white pearls, bra and panties. He still wasn't used to seeing himself like this, with the silky confines of the bra covering up his new, jutting assets up top, and the small triangular fabric shrouding the flat profile of his pussy beneath. Fran finished racking his skirt suit and came at him with the measuring tape. She had him lift his arms, then wrapped the tape around his breasts, noting the measurement before loosening the tape and moving it under the bust and measuring again. Then it was down to his waist, then his hips? Tyler endured the process with a brave face, looking at Connie through the reflection in the mirror, silently begging her for some sympathy. She merely smiled back at him and kept watching as Fran measured the length of Tyler's legs, the circumference of his thighs, the span of his shoudlers? ?Almost done,? Fran said, clearly picking up on Tyler's unease with what was being done to him. She wrapped the tape around his neck loosely, then took one final measurement from the middle of his neck and down to his tailbone. She then returned the tape to the pocket in her skirt before pulling a small tablet computer out of another pocket. She tapped on it a few times before turning it so Tyler could see it. ?Okay,? Fran said, showing a simple chart to Tyler. ?Do these look right?? Tyler looked at the numbers, of which there were several, on the chart. They meant nothing to him, and the only one he recognized was 36D ? his bra size. ?I'm not sure,? he said. ?I've never been measured for clothing before. I've only ever worn? you know? whatever fit me.? ?Ah,? Fran said. ?Well, I'll tell you what we'll do. I'll take these measurements outside, grab a few things, and we'll see how those turn out. Then I'll grab a couple other things. We'll just do this until we land on something everyone likes. Does that sound good?? ?Sure,? Tyler said, shrugging. Fran took her tablet and left the dressing room with her tablet, leaving Tyler alone in the room with Connie, wearing nothing but his jewelry and underwear. Connie took the opportunity to stand up from the bench she was sitting on and put her hands around her lover's bare waist. She turned him to face the mirrors, put her chin on his shoulder, and looked into the reflection she saw. ?I've told you that you're beautiful, right?? she said, pecking him gently on the neck. Tyler grinned at the attention and the compliment and look back at Connie through the mirror. ?I don't think so,? Tyler said. ?You've said a lot of nice things to me, but you've never said that.? ?Well, that's a shame,? Connie said. She brought her hands around to the front of Tyler's waist, rubbing his tummy gently. Tyler suddenly felt very conscious of his belly button as Connie dragged a green- painted fingernail over it? he wondered once again about getting his navel pierced. Zoe's navel piercing looked so sexy this morning in the wardrobe, and Amber's temporary navel piercing sure looked good during the lounge event, when she had been dressed up as a belly dancer? ?Do you think you're beautiful?? Connie asked, shifting her hands away from Tyler's tummy. She brought one of them higher on his midriff, near the lower strap of his bra. Connie's other hand went south, under the belly button, dangerously close to the rim of his panties. ?Um,? Tyler said, enjoying the feeling of Connie's expert hands on his body. Her left hand went under the waistband of Tyler's panties, flickering against the pubic hair there. Her right hand cupped Tyler's bra-covered right breast and squeezed it playfully. ?Fran's probably coming back in a few...? ?Oh, please. Forget about Fran. Besides, it's not like I want to go all the way with you right now. Well, that's not true. I do. I most certainly do. But I believe I can restrain myself, at least until later on tonight.? ?Good to hear,? Tyler said, glaring at Connie in the mirror. ?But I do want you to feel beautiful, Violet,? Connie continued. ?You deserve to feel that way. You've gone your whole life without anyone ever telling you how pretty you are, I'd wager. Save for a few perverted old men back on Mars who might've tried to take advantage of you. Or younger men, here and there, who would flatter every girl they could with as many compliments they could muster, just for a chance at getting between her legs.? She turned to face Tyler, rather than looking at him through the mirror. ?Am I right? You've been told that you're beautiful, but you've never believed it. Because if you believed it, then somehow that would grant some kind of power or control to the people who complimented you.? ?Are you a psychiatrist, now?? said Tyler. ?I am what I've always been,? Connie said. Her left hand descended further into Tyler's panties, and her index finger brushed lightly over the folds of Tyler's pussy. ?An observer. Someone concerned with extracting the fullest expression of femininity in the women she meets. And, just between the two of us? let's admit that I'm also fascinated by you, personally. You individually. You're a captivating young lady, Violet. Rough around the edges, slightly traumatized by early life, intimidated by certain aspects of her existence, something of a work in progress? but absolutely captivating nonetheless. And beautiful, too.? ?Well,? Tyler said, finding himself becoming flush at all the analysis, even though most of it wasn't true at all. ?Thanks, Connie. That's very nice of you to say.? ?Bearing in mind, Violet, that beauty isn't just about what you look like on the outside. You can have a supermodel with otherworldy proportions and perfect facial symmetry, but if she's a raging cunt to everyone she encounters, nobody will ever find her beautiful. And she'll always be on the arm of some man, and the man will stay with her because his friends are all jealous of the bombshell he has living with him. He'll stay with her because she's hot, and for no other reason, and every time he has sex with her will be a completely empty, superficial experience.? Tyler elected not to say anything, Connie was going off on one of her theoretical tirades, and he thought it best not to interrupt her? especially since her left hand was now tickling his pussy erotically, brushing up against the nub of his clitoris. He let out a tiny gasp of pleasure as Connie continued stroking and talking. ?It's a bit of a clich? nowadays,? Connie said, slipping a finger under Tyler's bra and rolling it around against his nipple, ?but genuine beauty really does come from within. The exterior is just a manifestation of the interior. Someone who doesn't enjoy life, or enjoy themselves, will never be beautiful. True beauty is reserved for those who earn it through who they are as a person, what they inspire in others, how they treat their friends and family? whether they're a caring, kind, generous individual...? Suddenly there was a knock on the dressing room door, and Connie quickly retreated her hands from Tyler's crotch and breast, sitting back down on the padded bench. Tyler was left standing in front of the mirror with an accelerated heart rate and a dampening sensation inside his vagina as he breathed heavily from the excitement of being pleasurably groped. He had only a few seconds to calm down before Fran opened the door and entered the room, carrying an armful of clothing. ?Sorry for the wait,? Fran said, racking the clothing she had brought with her. ?No problem,? Connie said, winking at Tyler through the mirror. ?We passed the time.? Tyler looked back at Connie, still panting slightly. God, he loved that lecherous, sexually-charged side of her? the aspect of her personality that thought nothing of sticking a hand down her lover's panties in a fancy boutique dressing room, or making out feverishly during an elevator ride, or bringing a double-headed purple dildo into bed. Connie knew Tyler loved it, too, and the two of them shared a filrtatious glance as Fran brought the first of the garments over for Tyler to try. ?I figured we'd go with something really casual, first,? Fran said. ?You don't need to dress professionally all the time, after all.? She handed Tyler a small item made of white denim. Tyler flipped it over and realized it was a pair of shorts? possibly the longest pair of shorts he'd seen since arriving on the station, starkly contrasting with the hot pants Lola was so fond of wearing. Trying to ignore Connie for the moment, Tyler unzipped the shorts and pulled them up his long, shapely legs. Once they were nestled in, he zipped them back up and put his hands on his hips. They were very tight, showed off plenty of leg, and made him even more conscious of the vacant space at his crotch where his penis used to be. He patted his groin as if to verify that his little friend was no longer there. ?And here's this to go with it,? Fran said, handing Tyler a dark blue tank top with thin shoulder straps. Tyler put this on and it fell all the way to the top of the shorts. Connie looked appreciatively at the finished product while Tyler looked himself over in the mirror. He looked sexy but casual, like a girl out at the beach who didn't feel like going swimming and just wanted to enjoy the sun. He felt something interesting, too, something that had become nearly foreign to him after his short time on the station ? having closed pant legs. He had worn nothing but skirts, dresses, robes and lingerie since he'd gone through the nanosurgery. Wearing these shorts, with their closed legs, was a new experience to him since he'd been changed into a woman. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. He had grown so accustomed to wearing more ?open? clothing below the waist, and had gotten so proficient at handling himself while wearing it, that going back to regular pants or shorts would be something of a transition for him. He could get used to it, of course, just like he'd gotten used to wearing skirts and dresses, but it would be weird at the beginning. Especially since these shorts were so tight, so form-fitting, that they didn't allow him to forget for a second the new equipment he possessed underneath. There was absolutely no way that anything masculine was hiding out underneath the denim surrounding his crotch. Behind him, Connie and Fran talked about what kind of shoes and accessories Tyler could wear with this outfit. Tyler stood dumbly in the center of the room, unable to contribute much to the conversation. Soon Fran had him take off the shorts, after which she handed him a flouncy knee-length skirt. Almost eagerly, Tyler pulled the skirt up his legs, zipped it up behind his back, and looked at himself in the mirror again. This looked better, he thought. Felt better, too. There was a comfort about this skirt that Tyler never felt while wearing the denim shorts. He liked the openness of it, the way he could feel the cool air of the dressing room wafting up between his thighs, the way his legs stayed in contact with each other without being separated by a thin wall of fabric, the way it swished over his knees when he swayed his hips? he felt more attractive in this skirt, more normal? more at home. ?I think that's a winner,? Connie intoned. Tyler nodded and smiled, agreeing. ?I like it, too,? Fran said, pointing at the skirt. ?It has pockets, as well. And you can actually make use of the pockets, unlike the ones on those shorts? tight jeans may look great, but the pockets never do you any good.? ?Ha. Pockets are for men, anyway,? Connie said disdainfully. She toed at her purse. ?We have something better.? Fran giggled while Tyler fingered around the sides of the skirt? and there they were, just like Fran had said. Pockets. Tyler slid his hands inside and rested them, which tugged at the skirt's waist and pulled it downward half an inch. He had remembered using pockets in his past life, for carrying his smartphone and other such trinkets. He'd been using his purse, the one Amber had picked out for him, since the lounge event ended. It sure was handy for carrying things around, like his phone, or his company-issued tablet. No way would that thing have fit in the pockets in his old pants. It wouldn't fit in the pockets on this skirt, either. Tyler couldn't imagine himself using these new pockets for much of anything, really, other than having somewhere to keep his hands. ?Okay, that's settled,? Fran said. ?Next outfit.? Tyler took his hands out of the skirt pockets, stripped down to his bra and panties again, and repeated the process with the next selection. The day blurred for Tyler as he went from dress to skirt to blouse to dress again, looking at himself in the mirror, waiting for Fran and Connie's comments on the current outfit, and then getting out of that and into the next one in line. Connie clearly had a preference for keeping Tyler in skirts and dresses rather than shorts, pants, or anything else with separate holes for each leg. Tyler found himself coming over to her point of view, not just because it was her occupation to be an expert at this kind of thing, but also because he liked the way he looked in the mirror whenever he donned a skirt, no matter how long or short, tight or loose, formal or casual, elaborate or subdued. He liked the way they felt, too ? even though it had been so alien to him upon arriving at Saturn Beta and putting on the first outfit Amber picked out for him. What a difference a few days could make. A few days, and a radical improvement in his physical appearance, and the welcome affection of an incredibly style-oriented woman who Tyler liked very much?