Welcome To Saturn Beta - Part 11 free porn video

Later, after Tyler had tried on countless outfits and accessories, Connie called for a break. Fran made herself scarce, saying that she was going to ring up the outfits Connie and Tyler had decided to keep, of which there were quite a few. Tyler and Connie were left alone in the dressing room, sitting on the padded bench and enjoying a glass of the wine Fran had promised them earlier. Tyler currently wore a knee-length, full-skirted red gingham dress that made him look and feel like an obedient little housewife. He wasn't sure this outfit was a "keeper," but Connie had mentioned she liked it enough to possibly get it for herself. "Once we finish our wine," she said, looking Tyler in the eyes, "I'm afraid I have a few things I need to take care of on my own. I'll leave you in the seemingly capable hands of Fran out there." "Oh," Tyler said, surprised and a bit saddened. "Is everything all right?" "Everything's fine. I just have something that needs to be addressed before I pick you up tonight. And it could take a while." "Work?" Tyler asked. "No. Personal matter. I'll tell you about it later. In the meantime, after I'm gone, there is at least one other item you need to shop for. You'll need a proper evening gown for the symphony tonight. The evening gown and everything that goes with it. Shoes, jewelry, a handbag..." She sipped her wine, and gazed wistfully off toward the other end of the dressing room. "Besides, let's be honest with each other. It's more fun if I don't know what you're wearing beforehand. I want to be surprised at what I see when I come pick you up tonight." She returned her eyes to Tyler. "There is something appealing about surprises, don't you think?" "Yeah, sure," Tyler said, nodding. "I know exactly what you mean." He thought back to earlier in his life, picking up girls for homecoming or the prom, seeing them in their formal dresses for the first time after weeks of anticipation... and then trying to stave off the onset of an erection while thinking about what it would take to get the girl out of that dress. "Good," Connie said. "I'll let Fran know before I leave. I'm sure she can find something suitable." "Hmm," Tyler said, trying to read Connie's mind. He leaned forward a bit, bringing his face closer to Connie's. "Hopefully it's more that just suitable. Hopefully it blows your mind." Connie smiled back at Tyler deviously. "Oh, Violet, you blow my mind constantly. But if you'd like to attempt going above and beyond... be my guest. I won't complain." She drained her wine, gave Tyler a quick kiss on the lips, and walked out of the dressing room. A moment later, Fran arrived in the doorway and began flicking through the remaining clothes on the rack. "Connie told me about tonight," said Fran. "The symphony, huh? Sounds like fun." "I wouldn't know," Tyler said. "I've never been to one." "Can you believe there's an entire symphony hall right here on the station? Incredible, isn't it?" Tyler giggled. "I was thinking the same thing when I saw it the other day. It's on the 20th floor. I don't know how they fit something that big on a space station." "Money. That's how," Fran explained. "I'm sure you've noticed by now, but there's a hell of a lot of money flying around out here on Beta. It's a boom town out here, what with all the mining and gas extraction on the moons. It attracts the rich types, looking to speculate." She looked over the clothes rack at Tyler. "Your friend Miss Giordano doesn't seem like the speculative type." "She's not," Tyler said, recrossing his legs under his long gingham skirt. "She's certainly not hurting for money, though." "No, she's not. At least she's not obnoxious about her money, though. Some of the women who come through here... now, granted, I can't complain too much, considering the commissions I get for selling pile after pile of clothing... but you don't have to be a jerk about it. It's rare that someone as reserved as Miss Giordano comes through here. It's a welcome breath of fresh air, to be frank with you. And, of course, you're a lovely young lady yourself. It's been a pleasure helping you out today." "Oh. Thanks," said Tyler. "You seemed a bit anxious when we were getting started, I must say. Most girls your age really like to go clothes shopping." Tyler looked off to the side. "I'm not like most girls, I suppose." "Oh, don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with that. Everyone's different. We like what we like." "That sounds like something Connie would say," Tyler said. Actually, that definitely was something Connie had said... in her suite, after she and Tyler had fucked each other silly with the help of the double-ended purple dildo. Tyler's face went slightly red at the memory of it. "Well, shall we?" Fran said, holding the dressing room door open for Tyler. He stood, smoothed his skirt, slipped his feet into his three- inch pumps again, and followed her into the main area of the shop. Fran ushered him through a businesswear section, through a short doorway, and into an area filled with even more mannequins, all of which had been placed upon very tall platforms, and all of which were wearing formal gowns of all shapes and sizes. This section of Incantevole was much more impressive than the rest of the shop, which was saying something since the rest of the shop certainly wasn't dowdy. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, full-length mirrors ran along the walls, and the rear wall was a single large bay window looking out into space. From the window, Tyler could see other protruding spindles of the 14th floor against the backdrop of empty black. The hugeness of Saturn Beta really was a marvel, the more he saw of it. Fran pulled his attention away from the window and back toward the job at hand: getting properly outfitted for his big symphony date tonight. She took Tyler down the walkways between the mannequins, pointing out the various styles to him - mermaid, sheath, trumpet, A-line, empire - none of these words meant anything to Tyler, but he tried not to let Fran pick up on that. He merely examined the gowns as she talked, visualizing how he'd look in them... and, more importantly, trying to imagine what Connie would think of it, and how she would react to seeing him in it for the first time. All of the available dresses were extraordinarily beautiful, but nothing really caught Tyler's attention until his eyes landed on a sapphire-blue gown, sparkling with sequins from top to bottom. The gown was form- fitting on the mannequin, strapless, and practically seemed to defy the laws of physics with the way it stayed up on the mannequin's body. Tyler couldn't take his eyes off it. "Hmm," Fran said, noticing Tyler's interest. "Want to try it on?" Tyler thought about it for a moment, wondering what Connie would think. He swallowed nervously and said, "Um, sure." Fran went over to the rack next to the mannequin, found Tyler's size, slung the garment bag over her shoulder, and showed Tyler to another dressing room inside the formalwear section. This dressing room had mirrors all around and a platform in the center, similar to the platforms that the mannequins outside stood on. As if Tyler hadn't felt self-conscious before about having people staring at him while he tried on clothes... "You go on ahead," Fran said, hanging the garment bag on the rack near the door. "I need to find some shoes for you. Shouldn't take long." Fran closed the door and left Tyler alone in the dressing room. He looked over at the garment bag hanging off the rack. It intimidated him, somehow... even more than the French maid outfit had intimidated him during the lounge event. He unzipped the bag and looked at the gown as it hung on a pair of translucent straps - the kind of straps that were only meant for hanging the dress, not for putting over your shoulders. His heart raced at the thought of wearing this, at seeing Connie's face when she came to his room to pick him up. He loved having that effect on her. Tentatively, he stripped off the cute gingham dress he wore, laid the outfit gently on a bench near the clothes rack, and took the sapphire gown out of the garment bag. He brought it over to the platform and stood on it. Then, as he had seen women in movies and commercials do before, he held the gown up to his body and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He imagined himself wearing it, imagined how he would look, how tightly the dress would form along his womanly curves... "Okay," Fran said, entering the dressing room without knocking. She had an elaborate pair of strappy, slingback pumps in one hand. She brought the shoes over to the bench on the side of the room and dropped them off there, then returned to Tyler's side and took the dress from him. "Go ahead," she said, nodding at him. Tyler had no idea what she was talking about. "Go ahead with what?" "With taking off your bra, dear," said Fran. "You can't wear a bra like that with a strapless gown. You wouldn't want to, anyway - there's support built into the bodice. You and the girls will be safe and sound once you're all zipped up. Come on, then. Don't be shy." Sheepishly, Tyler reached behind his back and undid the hooks on his bra, letting it loosen and fall forward on his arms. He put the bra down on top of the gingham skirt and put an arm over his exposed breasts. He suddenly felt very aware of them, maybe even ashamed of baring himself like this to a stranger. Yes, this was Fran's job, and she was used to seeing other women's breasts; and yes, other women had seen Tyler's new breasts before; and yes, he knew full well that the breasts weren't actually his and would soon be gone from his body, once he paid off his debt to Jackson... but he still didn't like the idea of showing them off to just anyone. Fran picked up on his reluctance. "Violet, it's fine. I know it's a bit awkward. If you think you can handle this yourself..." She held up the sapphire-colored evening gown. "I can give you a moment to put it on. But if it's your first time wearing something like this, you might need a little help figuring it all out. These strapless gowns can be a bit tricky. That's why us girls always have a man nearby to zip us up." "I... I just..." Tyler stuttered. He smirked at what Fran had said. A man nearby? That was a truer statement than Fran could have known. "I'll wait outside," Fran said, extending her arms toward Tyler, offering the dress to him again. "No, it's fine," Tyler said. He hesitated a few seconds, then mustered his courage and released his arm from covering his breasts. It felt odd to have himself so exposed to Fran... even odder than it did to have breasts at all, to have to worry about exposing his chest in the first place. But he had adapted to having his breasts, and he could adapt to this. That's what he did for a living, after all. Adapt for the circumstances. Fran had him sit on the bench and get his shoes on first. He slid his left foot into the shoe, between the various rhinestone-encrusted straps, and finally settled into it by buckling the strap behind his ankle. He repeated the process on the right foot, then stood and got used to the height of them. These were taller than the ones he had worn into the shop... taller enough to make Tyler pay especially close attention to his steps as he made his way over to the platform. What was it with this job at Ringed Amusements, and with the constantly- increasing heel heights on the shoes he wore? "Be careful on those," Fran said, pointing at the shoes. "They're necessary, I'm afraid. The gown would drag along on the ground too much if we put you in anything lower." "It's fine," Tyler said, trying to remain as confident as he could while wearing nothing but his white panties and a risky pair of high heels. "I just need to get used to them. And take really short steps, apparently." "Exactly. Short steps, heel to toe," Fran said, sounding a lot like Amber did when she had first coached Tyler on the art of wearing high heels. "Besides, with the way the gown will sit on you, you won't be able to take very long steps anyway." "Why's that?" Fran grinned. "You'll see when we get it on you. Okay, Violet, up on the platform." Tyler went over to the platform in the center of the dressing room, being very careful as he stepped up onto it in his heels. Then he stood there, nude except for the panties, jewelry, and shoes, looking at himself in the reflection of countless mirrors lining the wall. Off to the side, he heard Fran unzipping the gown. She soon joined him on the platform, lowered the dress so he could step into it, and offered her shoulder for some support. Tyler gladly placed his hand on Fran's shoulder and stepped carefully into the lowered dress, one foot at a time. He then straightened his posture as Fran slowly lifted the bodice of the dress, passing over his hips, his tummy, and finally over his breasts. The material inside the gown felt smooth and silky as it whispered over Tyler's gorgeous body. "Hold it there," Fran said as she stood behind him. Tyler grabbed the sequined bodice and pressed it against his breasts, glad to be covered up once again. He took a look at himself in the many mirrors of the dressing room. The shimmering emerald blue of the gown went well with his pale skin and wavy auburn hair, offsetting both in an attention- grabbing way. Fran slowly eased the side zip upward, and the bodice tightened and took form just above Tyler's hips as he held the top of the gown over his large breasts. Once the zip was all the way up, Tyler definitely felt hugged tightly by the upper section of the gown, from his breasts down to his waist. The gown had some kind of boning in it that kept everything rigidly in place, and the sweetheart neckline was in no danger of drifting downward. Tyler marveled at how everything stayed up without the need for straps over his shoulders... but the gown was so form-fitting, so perfect for his new feminine body, that he knew it wouldn't budge an inch over the course of his date tonight. He looked at himself in the mirrors of the dressing room, deeply appreciating what he saw from every angle. The bodice showed off the tops of his breasts while pushing them together to form an enticing cleavage. The sheath shape of the gown made him look thin, buxom, and elegantly sexy as any woman he'd ever seen back in Miami. "Give us a quick turn," Fran said. Tyler steadied himself on the high heels and turned slowly, feeling the gown's skirt swish around his legs as he moved. The hem of the gown's skirt was just barely kept off the floor by the height of Tyler's heels, and he was glad that Fran had brought the shoes in with her, even if it meant that Tyler would be walking on the highest heels he'd yet worn. At least he wouldn't be tripping over the skirt tonight. One other thing he noticed which he hadn't seen before while looking at the gown on the mannequin - it had a slit up the left leg, one that peeled open as Tyler moved and showed a significant amount of thigh. Tyler would have to be careful with that... not too careful, though. He knew Connie loved his legs. He smiled deviously as he stuck his left leg out a bit, getting a full view of what this gown was capable of showing off. The sparkling, sequined gown would already grab plenty of attention just by the way it looked on Tyler's body, and now he'd be grabbing even more attention because of this tantalizing slit up the side. As if he wasn't already displaying enough of himself and his curves thanks to the strapless bodice and the sweetheart neckline... And surprisingly to Tyler, he didn't mind the thought at all. He liked the idea of having a room full of eyes on him as he walked, gaining the lust of the men and the envy of the women, having full command of the room and full attention of the onlookers. Maybe it would make Connie jealous, in a good way... or proud of herself for having the sexiest woman on Saturn Beta accompanying her for the evening, made sexier still by the jaw-dropping nature of the shimmering sapphire blue gown. "Well, dear," Fran commented, stepping off of the platform so Tyler had it all to himself. "I don't think we need to try on anything else, do you?" "No," Tyler said, putting his hands on his hips, turning, studying himself in the mirrors. "No way. This is the one." ***** After Fran helped him get out of the gown and the shoes, she encouraged him to wear the red gingham dress out of the store, rather than getting back into his burnt-orange skirt suit. Tyler agreed, got dressed again, slung his purse over his shoulder, and followed Fran out of the dressing room to the front of the shop. Fran promised to include a few extra things in the delivery that Tyler hadn't had the chance to try on - bras, panties, nylons, garter belts, and all the other underthings Tyler might need to go along with his new outfits. Though Tyler didn't believe he needed all that stuff and wouldn't wear most of it, he trusted Fran to pick it out for him. She had his measurements, after all, and she had done a fantastic job over the course of the shopping spree. They stood at Incantevole's entrance and hugged each other lightly. "You did very well today," Fran said. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Violet." "You too," Tyler said, and he meant it. Fran had been very patient with him and very helpful with everything. He wasn't used to being treated nicely or being doted on when going clothes shopping... usually it had just been a matter of walking in, grabbing a few things, paying for them, and walking back out. Nothing like the careful, attentive experience he'd been through today. He wondered if there were stores back home on Earth that catered to men the same way Incantevole catered to women... not that the experience would be nearly as fun in his old male body as it was in his new female one. Fran and Connie were right - men just didn't have the staggering amount of clothing options that women had, and dressing up simply wasn't as much fun. Tyler's wardrobe back in Miami seemed dull and homogenous compared to all the outfits he'd tried on over the last few hours. "I'll have everything delivered to you soon," Fran continued. "Miss Giordano gave me your room number at the hotel. Will you be up there in a couple hours?" "I should be," Tyler said. "I really don't have anywhere else to be until we go to the symphony tonight." Fran put on a matronly smile. "Oh, you'll have so much fun. You'll have to come back sometime to tell me how it was." "I will," Tyler said, waving back at Fran as he walked through the spindle toward the main section of the 14th floor, easily able to navigate the floor on his three-inch heels. The shoes that seemed impossible to walk in this morning were now child's play, compared to the skyscrapers Fran had made him wear while trying on the evening gown. He'd have to wear the strappy blue shoes again tonight for his date with Connie, though. He wondered if he'd be able to manage it, especially if he had something to drink with dinner... Soon he was standing in front of the elevator bank, waiting for his ride to come among the noise of the wealthy shopping center patrons. He looked over his shoulder, back at the spindle where Incantevole was, wondering how much Connie had been billed for all the clothes Tyler now owned. That shopping trip must have cost a small fortune. He knew Connie could afford throwing money around like this, but it still amazed him. She was easily the most financially loose person he'd ever met, including all the billionaires he'd scammed during his time as an information broker. He sighed, thought about Connie, and wondered what she was up to right now. She had mentioned a personal matter that she needed to take care of. Tyler hoped it was nothing serious... and nothing that would distract her from what was to come tonight, both during their time at the symphony and the bedroom session at Pyramid Suites that would surely follow. Tyler felt a warming in his private parts as he fantasized about what would happen tonight. The doors opened and Tyler made to step inside the elevator car... until he looked in and saw what was waiting for him there. He stopped and stared. "Oh," said Paul, the printing press workman, Tyler's savior from the lounge event... the man who had so obviously tried to pick Tyler up for a date yesterday while claiming that he just wanted to talk. "Hi, Violet." Suddenly flustered and annoyed, Tyler looked off to the side. "Hi, Paul," he said in monotone. Paul moved to the back corner of the elevator car, providing more space for Tyler to occupy. "Going up?" "Yeah," Tyler said. He stepped onto the elevator, pressed the 20 button on the console, and turned around to face the closing doors. Maybe on a different day, he would have lied to Paul and told him that he wasn't going up, he was going down, just to avoid riding in the same car with him. But Tyler was feeling especially confident today after the shopping trip at Incantevole and the successful welcoming-party event at the docking spindle on the 117th floor. And the surprise appearance of young Ben Rosenthal, of course, which Tyler hoped to address with Dennis as soon as possible... the idea of doing some more info brokering at the expense of the Rosenthal dynasty was an exciting prospect. The promise of his date with Connie tonight energized his spirit even more. Tyler wasn't going to let Paul get to him that way, nor was he going to let Paul make him feel uncomfortable here in the elevator. No matter what Paul said, Tyler wouldn't let it get under his skin. He felt in control of his situation now, even though Paul's appearance had been a most unwelcome surprise. "Violet Taylor," Paul said, from his corner of the elevator. Tyler rolled his eyes as the elevator ascended to the 15th floor and beyond. "That's me." "I'm going to say something," said Paul. "And you can take it however you want." "Here we go again," Tyler grumbled. "And after I say it," Paul continued, undeterred by Tyler's attitude, "I hope you'll have the good sense enough to come talk with me for a few minutes. It'll probably end up being the most important conversation you'll have while you're here on Beta. I'll put it to you this way: I really, really wish I'd had someone like me to talk to when I first arrived here. It would have made everything a whole lot easier." "Uh-huh," Tyler said, tightly gripping his purse strap, hoping his tasteful gingham skirt wasn't showing off too much of his legs. The elevator slowed down as it went past the 19th floor. "Are you ready for what I have to say?" Paul said. "Sure, Paul. Knock yourself out." Paul cleared his throat. "I know you're a man." Tyler turned quickly to face Paul. His pulse quickened at the terror of someone (other than Jackson) knowing his number-one dirty little secret. How the fuck did Paul know about that? There's no way Jackson would have just told him. Tyler's face went flush with embarrassment and anger as he stared at the smug but kindly face of Paul. Tyler had to look up at him because of the difference in height, even with his three-inch heels propping him up. It made Tyler feel smaller than he already was. The elevator doors opened at the 20th floor, but Tyler didn't get out. He was frozen in place, turned into a statue by what Paul had just said. "This is your stop," Paul said, nodding into the foyer. "I..." Tyler stammered. "What are you talking about, Paul? Who the hell are you?" "I'm Paul Mayfield," Paul said, extending his hand toward Tyler for a shake. "Nice to meet you." "Oh my god," Tyler said, ignoring the hand. The elevator doors closed again and the car rose upward. Tyler folded his arms under his breasts and tried to figure out what the hell was going on here. "Yeah," Paul said, giving up on the handshake. "So, we should probably talk. There's a nice little bar on the 39th floor, if you want to..." "I don't want to do anything, Paul," said Tyler, while panicking internally, trying to figure out how to handle this. He decided to keep lying and play dumb. "You're insane. Thanks for saving me from that pervert, back in the lounge the other day, but you're insane. Why are you saying this stuff to me? What's wrong with you?" Paul looked off to the side. "Okay, Violet. Which isn't your real name, obviously. Have it your way. Believe it or not, I really am trying to help." "You're trying to help. By accusing me of being a man," Tyler said, catching his tone as he spoke, realizing how weird it was to be saying something like that out loud... "I'm not accusing," said Paul. "I'm just relaying what Jackson said, back in the lounge. Your name is Violet Taylor." "Why do you keep saying that? No shit my name is Violet Taylor. It's always been Violet Taylor." "Nope. Sorry, but nope. Your real name isn't Violet Taylor." He looked Tyler straight on, penetrating Tyler's defenses with his assured eyes. "Just like my real name wasn't May Young." Tyler stood with his arms folded under his breasts, more confused than ever. "May Young?" "When I first got to the station," Paul said, leaning against the back wall of the elevator car. "When Jackson first brought me on board with the company. When she performed nanosurgery on me. May Young. That's the name we decided on." Unable to speak, or move, or do much of anything, Tyler stared back at Paul and tried to put the puzzle together. Jackson had done to Paul what she'd done to Tyler? Paul had been female once, temporarily, after he'd arrived on Saturn Beta? Had this linebacker-sized printing-press workman really allowed himself to be subjected to the standard Ringed Amusements nanosurgery, and all the occupational requirements that came with it? Was he telling the truth? And, more importantly, did Paul actually, really, truly know that Tyler had lived the entirety of his life as a man before Jackson had put the nanobots in his body? Tyler's heart thudded in his chest as the elevator slowed on the approach to the 39th floor. The doors opened. "Drinks are on me, if you're interested," Paul said, stepping off the elevator and into the foyer. Tyler watched him go, tried to decide how to proceed... and finally got off the elevator himself, striding purposefully across the foyer on his three-inch heels toward Paul. "God dammit," Tyler mumbled under his breath, as he caught up to Paul and began walking shoulder to shoulder with him. "God fucking dammit." "You sure curse a lot for such a lovely, proper young lady," Paul said. "Fine, yes," Tyler said. "Yes. I'm not... I'm not actually Violet Taylor. God dammit!" "There you go," Paul said. "Doesn't it feel good to finally get that out?" ***** They sat silently at a low booth, holding cocktail menus. The waitress eventually came around and took their order - Paul with a neat scotch, Tyler with just a glass of water. He wasn't really in a drinking mood right now. He wanted to be entirely sober for whatever it was Paul had to tell him. And he didn't want alcohol to get in the way of any responses he might have to make. "Has Jackson told you about rule number five yet?" Paul said, folding his hands after the waitress had departed. "Oh, god," Tyler groaned. "Every day there's another rule. And don't try to change the subject on me. How did you know that..." Holding up a finger, Paul interrupted Tyler. "Rule number five. Never use your real name. Every girl in the company has a fake name that they use all the time, even if they're just sitting around in the dorms or wandering through the station when they aren't on a job. Most of the girls just have Jackson assign them a different surname when they start working for her. It keeps them safe, keeps everything off their employment records in case any of them want to go find a job somewhere else after they've done their stint at Ringed Amusements. So, Renee King, for instance. You know Renee. The black girl." "I know Renee," Tyler grumbled, wishing Paul would get to the point already. "I worked with her this morning." "Okay, yeah. Renee's last name definitely isn't King. It's something else. None of us know what her real surname is, except for Jackson and Renee herself." "What does that have to do with..." "Jackson is very careful about the assumed surnames she gives out. Because there's a secret code around here that only some of us know about. If the last letter of your first name matches the first letter of your last name..." Paul stopped talking as the waitress returned with their drinks. Tyler thought over what Paul had just said: last letter of first name, first letter of last name... Violet Taylor... May Young... "Oh," Tyler said as realization dawned on him. He waited for the waitress to leave before he continued. "Oh, god. That's why you and Jackson made such a big deal about my name when we were doing the lounge event." "Exactly," Paul said. "Why didn't Jackson tell me that, though?" Tyler asked. "About the first-name last-name code." "Because you would have reacted badly," Paul said. "You wouldn't have believed her, if she told you that only a few of us know about the code. You might have thought that you'd been... earmarked. You might have thought that all the other employees at Ringed Amusements knew about it. Jackson didn't want you to think that, because it's not true anyway. The only people around here who know that code are Jackson herself and the people it's been applied to." He took a sip of his scotch. "Namely, you and me." "Christ," Tyler muttered. "If that ever got out... if anyone else ever found out..." Tyler could feel tears forming in his eyes as he spoke. He was once again drifting to deep sadness from abject anger - anger at the fact that Paul knew about him, knew the most important aspect of who he really was. Tyler had been so pissed off when he'd followed Paul off the elevator, but that anger had subsided. Tyler was now more conscious of where he was, who he was with... and what he looked like. He looked down at himself, at his adorable gingham dress and the three-inch heels encasing his dainty feet under the table. He looked to the side, at the purse Amber had picked out for him, which he had been reluctant to use at the time but which had become so useful over the past couple of days. He felt the weight of the pearl earrings dangling from his ears, and the necklace encircling his shapely neck... And then he really started to cry, covering his lovely face with his hands - his hands, the fingernails of which had been lengthened and painted a sparkling, girlish pink. The thought of that made him cry harder yet. And then the fact that he was crying, in public, across the table from someone like Paul, made him somehow even more upset... "Okay, okay," Paul said, lowering his voice and hunkering down on the tabletop. "It's okay. Nobody's going to find out." But at that moment, it wasn't about anyone else finding out. It was because someone had already found out, thanks to Jackson's stupid secret code. And worse still, it was another man who was in the know. Paul. Tyler couldn't bear to be across the table from Paul right now, because of the one major thing that they had in common... he couldn't accept the fact that another man knew his secret. Tyler had never felt so utterly exposed in his life, so embarrassed... in that moment, he didn't feel at all like Violet Taylor. He felt one hundred percent like Tyler Hillman, a pudgy thirty-something info broker from Miami, a man wearing a goddamn housewife dress and a pair of high heeled shoes, sitting next to his pretty new purse, crying into his manicured hands. Being turned into a woman had been a humiliating experience, but somehow it wasn't half as humiliating as this. He suddenly felt so ashamed of himself for enjoying even a second of everything he had experienced over the last few days - the pleasant feeling of the clothes he had worn, the novelty of his salon appointment with Connie, the way he looked when he saw himself in the mirror, the rapturous sexual experiences he'd had... all of these stopped being a source of fond memories and morphed into abject disgrace. God dammit, he'd never cried like this, back when he was a man! Ever! This stupid body, these stupid emotions that he never even knew he had... it all served to overwhelm him even more. He tried desperately to get a hold on himself, to control his outburst, as the tears ran down his cheeks and all over his dainty, thin fingers... "Okay," Paul said, as Tyler's weeping continued. "Yeah, okay. I'll let you finish." Paul sat back, patiently sipping his scotch and looking out into the foyer. It was a dead time in the bar, with only a couple other patrons around and just one or two wait staff. The 39th-floor foyer, too, was nearly empty. Tyler was glad for it, as he peeked through his tear- stained hands to take a look around, making sure nobody other than Paul was watching him make such a scene. Eventually, after Paul was almost done with his scotch, Tyler wiped his face for the final time and took a deep, cleansing breath. He put his head in his hands and stared down at his glass of water. He was suddenly very thirsty. Probably all the crying he had just done... Paul leaned forward on the table. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want some towels from the bathroom?" He was sounding awfully protective, same as he did back in the 5th floor lounge the other day after he had rescued Tyler from the probing hands of a greasy-haired pervert. "No," Tyler said, slowly regaining his wits. "No. I'm fine. I'm just a little on-edge today, is all." "It's okay. It's good, actually. This is what I wanted to tell you, yesterday, when we ran into each other. I've been through all the same stuff that you have. The nanosurgery, dealing with the new way people look at you and treat you... dealing with the emotional swings. All of it. May Young put up with a lot." He drained the rest of his scotch. "Believe me." "You can't tell anyone," Tyler said, pleading. "Please. This can't get out to anyone else." "It won't. Trust me. Jackson's not about to let it slip, I'm not, and you're obviously, definitely not. You seem pretty terrified of the prospect." "And you aren't?" Paul shrugged. "I don't want the secret code getting out, if that's what you're asking." "But you... you just said all that stuff, about what you had to put up with. When you were... May Young, right?" Tyler waved a hand at himself, indicating his stylish gingham dress and beautiful feminine body. "What if everyone found out about that? How would you feel if everyone at the company found out about what happened to you?" "It wouldn't bother me," Paul said, sipping his scotch. "They all already know." Tyler shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. "They all... you told them? Everyone?" "The girls, yeah. Not any of the guys in the printing press or security. It's just a secret between us gals." "Us gals," Tyler said, staring down the large man across from him. "Right." Paul rested his empty glass on the table. "So here's the story, not that you asked for it. I majored in 3D design and minored in anatomy, back when I was in college on Mars. Ever been to Mars?" Tyler didn't answer. He had zero interest in responding to that question right now. "Anyway," Paul said, "weird line of study, right? I majored in design because I knew it could get me work at a printing press. Minored in anatomy because I just thought it was a neat subject... something to take the edge off of grinding away at a modeling computer all day. After school ended I just threw my resume at anyone who would take a look at it. No bites on Mars, no bites on Earth. So I decided to throw a few out at a new space station, way out past the asteroid belt. Jackson had me come in for an interview." "Uh oh," Tyler said. He took a large gulp from his water. He found himself feeling better, now that he had cried out his frustrations and embarrassment. He had known lots of women back home in Miami who acted the same... a good cry to get all the emotions sorted out, then back to normal life like nothing had happened. Tyler always found it weird how well it worked for them. It was even weirder that it had worked for him, too... "Yeah. Uh-oh is right," Paul continued. "So I put on my best suit, brought my design portfolio with me, and met with Jackson in her office. She told me right away, ten seconds after I sat down, that Ringed Amusements' primary business was prostitution. She asked me if I had any issues with working for a company like that. Of course, I'm a kid straight out of college, so I have no issues working for anyone as long as I get paid on time. Then she showed me into a room on the far end of spindle #7, past the dorm entrance. It was a nice little CAD studio with a window that looked out into space. The computers and design peripherals were all brand new, state of the art, high-quality stuff that made the equipment I used at college look like yesterday's trash. And the window, at that moment, was looking right out at Saturn's rings. That room, right then, was the coolest thing I'd ever seen in my life. I knew right away that I was taking the job if Jackson offered it to me, no matter how much it paid." "So she suckered you," Tyler said. "By showing you a fancy office with a nice view." Paul shook his head. "Nah. She didn't sucker me. We went back to her office and she started telling me about what I'd be designing, should I take the job. She said she had an interest in nanotechnology, specifically as it related to biological applications in general and macro-changes to the human body in particular. She wanted to know if I was comfortable designing human anatomical structures that could be deployed via nanobots. I told her I wasn't sure if that was possible. She told me, Paul, it's definitely possible, because we've been doing it for almost a decade." Tyler thought back to a couple days ago, when he had lunch with Amber and Zoe. Zoe had mentioned that she's been working for Jackson for twelve years. The math added up. "So," Paul said, "I would be replacing the guy who had handled that aspect of the business previously. Designing bodies, which Jackson would then take and apply to whatever software she uses to manage her nanobots, which would then be applied to the employees who worked for her. I leaned forward in my chair, in her office, and I said, so, let me get this straight: you want me to design hookers. She said yeah, that's basically what it comes down to." "Hang on," Tyler said, holding a hand up. "You... did you design me? I mean, the body?" Paul nodded. "It turned out pretty well, if you don't mind my bragging." "Jesus. You didn't have to make the boobs so big." "I suppose I didn't," Paul said, grinning slyly. "But they work, considering your height and the shape of your body. Your breasts are big but not disproportionately large, and that's the sweet spot for most of the girls at the company. Trust me. I've been doing this a long time, and I know what an attractive, flattering rack is supposed to look like. Yours look great." "Gee. Thanks," Tyler said, once again folding his arms under his breasts. They still felt massive as far as he was concerned. "You have to remember something - Jackson approves or disapproves of all the designs I hand over to her. And she disapproved of a shitload of the stuff I turned in when I first started working here. My first day on the job, I worked all morning and afternoon on a design for a total dream girl. Or what I thought a dream girl was. Bear in mind, I'm fresh out of college at this point, still horny as hell and with a very, shall we say, unrealistic view of what the ideal woman should look like. So I sent my design over to Jackson, and she called me into her office a few minutes later. She told me she forgot to do a little something with me during the interview and hiring process - a medical treatment. One that was designed to help people from the inner planets acclimatize themselves to the space station environment. I said, okay, sure. So she took me into the little exam room attached to her office..." Tyler laughed derisively and shook his head. "Oh, god. That sounds like something she'd do..." "Yeah, so, you already know where this is going," Paul said. "She fills me up with a couple bags of solution, sends me on my merry way, and tells me to leave a couple hours early so the treatment can do its thing. On my way out, I asked her what she thought of the design I sent over to her. She told me she hadn't had a chance to look at it yet, but she'd let me know what she thought of it the next morning." Tyler sneered. "And then the next morning came." "Yup," Paul said, signaling the waitress for another scotch. "I went to bed thinking nothing of it. Then I woke up the next day, tried to get dressed... nothing fit me, of course. My entire body was tingling. I looked in the mirror, saw some weird androgynous hermaphrodite thing in the reflection that sort of looked like me, and got really scared. I called Jackson and told her that I was sick. She said, oh, that's a shame, sometimes that can happen with the acclimatization treatment. She told me not to worry about coming into work again until I was feeling better. I just stayed in the little room I had rented, freaking out, trying to tell myself it was just a bad dream. Which it wasn't. I took a couple sleeping pills and went right back to bed, hoping that would change things... and then I woke up again, and the tingling had stopped. But then I felt my body..." "She turned you into your dream girl, didn't she?" Tyler said. Paul grinned slightly. "Very good, Violet. Ten points for the clever young lady in the pretty red dress." "What'd you look like?" "Asian. I had a thing for Asian girls back then. I based the initial design on a Korean supermodel. Long black hair, darker skin. Five foot one for the height, which was a real shock to me, since I'm a lot taller than that normally. And huge boobs. Like, gigantic. As if I had thrown all my anatomy lessons out the window when I designed her. It looked completely disproportionate and unnatural, now that I was experiencing it for myself. And Jackson wanted me to know that unnatural-looking girls had no place in her company." "That's messed up," Tyler said, drinking his water some more. "That's really messed up." "Eh, not really. Besides, it got her point across to me, loud and clear." "What point? That she had the technology to turn you into a big-titted chick whenever she wanted? That she was going to do it to you without getting your permission first?" Tyler calmed down a bit as the waitress returned with Paul's scotch. Paul lifted it to his mouth and took a quick sip. "The point was - and she told me this after I had mustered up the courage to leave my apartment and come talk to her - that I shouldn't design any bodies for the girls that I wouldn't want to be stuck in myself. Of course, I didn't want to be stuck in any female body at all. I told her that. And I told her to change me back, right now. She refused, naturally. And so..." Tyler put his glass on the table. "So, what?" "So I started crying. Hard. Right there in her office, with her sitting behind her desk, just watching me. Not sure if she told you this, but it applies to you: there's a certain hormonal component that comes along with the nanosurgery, for those of us who have had a more radical transition than the rest of the girls at the company, if you get what I'm saying. In order for your female body to... work properly, I guess you'd say... there has to be some minor chemical changes along with the physical ones. Otherwise there would be a lot of biological complications. I don't know the full explanation on that one. What I do know is, women tend to feel things more deeply than men do. Crying is a perfectly natural response to a lot of different stimuli, whether you've been a woman since the day you were born, or whether..." "Yeah, okay," Tyler said, rolling his eyes, understanding at last why he had been crying so much. "I get it. Thanks." "Anyway," Paul continued, "that was my first day on the job. It was very weird, to say the least. Unsettling. And upsetting, you know, because I was still there in Jackson's office, crying my eyes out. Jackson eventually called Zoe into her office... you remember Zoe, right? She was the one wearing the cheerleader outfit during the lounge event." "Yeah. She's nice." "Very nice. Jackson brings her into the office after I've finished crying. She introduces me as the new anatomical designer. Zoe and I shake hands and everything, and Jackson asked her to show me around the place a bit. I'm still really upset, but I figured I should do whatever Jackson tells me to do, seeing as how she currently has me trapped in the body of a big-breasted Asian girl. Zoe takes me to the dorms, which I hadn't seen before. Then Zoe says, I thought the new anatomical designer was supposed to be a man. And I said, yeah, I am one." Tyler looked back at Paul, confused. "You just came right out and told her?" Paul shrugged. "I didn't know what else to say. Lying about it hadn't really crossed my mind. Zoe was fine with it, though. I told her the whole story, same as I'm telling it to you right now. She was sympathetic without being patronizing, which was nice. She said I wasn't the first guy to ever come through the company and get turned into a woman. There's been a few." "Like who?" "Oh, nobody who still works here. They've all moved on to other things, I think. Probably." Paul sipped his scotch. "So, anyway, Zoe showed me around a bit, introducing me to everyone who was in the dorms at the time. I'd never met any hookers before, so that was kind of awkward. But they were all really nice to me, really understanding... not at all creeped out about the fact that I was really a man. Like I said, I wasn't the first, wouldn't be the last, and it was no big deal as far as all the girls were concerned. It just so happens that high-class prostitutes are some of the most understanding and tolerant people in the world." "Huh," Tyler said, considering Paul's words. All of the girls had been really nice to him since he started working here... save for Lola, of course. Amber was one of the kindest people Tyler had ever met in his entire life. Zoe and Renee seemed cool enough, given Tyler's limited time with them. And Jackson was, well, Jackson. She didn't really count. "After that," Paul continued, "I went back to work. I had an idea in my head. So I sat down in my studio and tweaked my dream girl design... made the breasts way smaller, made her a few inches taller, and changed a few other things. I sent the design over to Jackson and then waited. About ten minutes went by. And then I started to feel the tingling all over my body again. The nanobots went to work. A couple hours later, my body had been updated to the new design. I felt very clever... like I had discovered a chink in Jackson's armor. So I started making a plan for what I was going to design next. But by then, it was time to quit for the day, and Jackson came to my studio and told me to head home. I told her I couldn't go home looking the way I did, even if my breasts were smaller and I wasn't as short anymore. She asked me if I would prefer to stay in the dorm for the night. We argued for a bit, but there's no winning an argument with Jackson once she's made up her mind on how to handle a new employee. So I went along with it. Staying at the dorm with the girls sounded like a good idea - a much better idea than walking around a space station looking the way I did, feeling the way I did - so I agreed. I went into the dorms and roomed with Zoe that night." "Sounds familiar," Tyler said. "I'm rooming with Amber right now." "Oh, cool. Amber's great. Good for you." "Yeah. I have no complaints." Tyler looked down at his body and the red gingham dress covering it. "Apart from the obvious." Paul looked off into the foyer, swirling the scotch around in his glass. "That first night as a woman was strange. Zoe left soon after I got to her room, off to do her freelancing work, so I had the place to myself. So I stared up at the ceiling and just plotted and schemed for a while. The next morning, I went down to my studio and got to work. I took out my phone and went through all my old pictures of myself, and I started designing my old body. Meticulous attention to detail, like you wouldn't believe. I wanted it to look exactly like it did when I first showed up at the station. I was hoping to trick Jackson into putting me back in my old body. I thought I had figured her out... that her nanosurgical software was set to automatically update my body any time I sent over a new design." "Tricking Jackson," Tyler said, looking down at his glass of water. "Something tells me she's not easy to fool." "Definitely not. I didn't know that at the time, though. So I kept working at designing my old body from the ground up. I was only about half done with the basic structure when quitting time came around again. So I went back into the dorms and back to Zoe's room. When I opened the door, it was Zoe, Tanya, and a couple of other girls... they don't work here anymore. None of them had any work booked that night, because it was someone's birthday and they all wanted to go out to celebrate. And they all begged me to come along." "Uh oh," Tyler said. "Yup. I was really, really not comfortable with the idea. I just wanted to hide out for as long as possible, and not let anyone see me looking the way I did. By then, all the other girls at the company knew my story and knew who I really was. They didn't care. They were desperate to bring me along with them, because they were convinced that Jackson would change me back soon enough and they wanted to make sure I had at least one night out as one of the girls. Zoe wouldn't take no for an answer. They got me all dressed up and put a bunch of makeup on me and out we went. And I'll admit, I had a great time. It was very weird, but it was also very fun, once I got a drink in me and was able to loosen up a bit. The girls showed me a bunch of fun spots on the station, and they were careful not to let me do anything irresponsible." Paul took a drink of his scotch. "I'm sure you've noticed this by now, but you have to be a lot more careful about how you behave in public when you're a woman than you do when you're a man. Especially when you're wandering around on the seedier parts of the station. There's just certain things you really shouldn't do." Tyler straightened up in his seat. "Such as?" "Such as," Paul said, "if you're the more outgoing type, and you like to make conversation with complete strangers as a means of passing the time when you're in line at a night club..." "Oh, god." "Yeah. Let's just say the alcohol in my system made me forget who I was. Paul Mayfield might have been able to get away with making small-talk with a bunch of men he'd never met before, but May Young definitely should not have been doing that. Not with the types of guys who go to night clubs on the 81st floor. By the time we got inside, I had a couple men deeply interested in buying me a drink and dancing with me... by which I mean, a couple men deeply interested in slipping me some drugs and then taking me to the bathrooms to fuck me. Zoe and Tanya and the other girls saw what was going on, came to my rescue and told the guys that I already had a boyfriend. The men accused me of being a cock-tease and a slut, and a bunch of other things, and I was really confused. The girls pulled me aside and educated me on some of the nuances of being female, young, pretty, and wearing a short dress. They told me to be really careful about who I flirted with. I tried to explain to them that I wasn't flirting with anyone... that I was just talking like I normally would, trying to have a good time. They told me, no, May, you were absolutely flirting with those guys. I was much more careful the rest of the night, to the point where Tanya accused me of turning into a bitchy ice queen. But at least I didn't get accused of flirting anymore. And at least nobody else at the club that night accused me of being a cock- tease." "Geez. Sounds like a rough night." "Nah. It was fun. Very educational. Plus, it helped me make friends with Zoe and Tanya and everyone else. They all told me that they'd totally love to hang out again before Jackson changed me back. And I wanted to hang out with them, too. Like I said, I'm pretty outgoing, and I go a bit crazy if I don't go out with people regularly. Tanya and I made plans to get facials... you know, the thing were they put seaweed or cucumbers or whatever all over your face." Tyler giggled. He imagined Paul laying in a room with new-age sitar music playing over the soundsystem, a towel covering his body, with cucumber slices adorning his face. It was a ridiculous mental image... but it became less ridiculous when Tyler imagined a short Asian girl in Paul's place. Not that Tyler had any room to think Paul getting a facial was ridiculous. Tyler, after all, had recently had meticulous styling done on his hair, and a full manicure and pedicure, and a thorough makeover, and a shopping trip where he tried on countless dresses and blouses and skirts. In the back of Tyler's mind, he began wondering what it would be like to have a facial treatment done on him. Maybe he'd suggest it to Connie as something they could do together. The idea of it warmed his spirits. "Long story short," Paul said, "I went with Tanya to get a facial. And I went with Zoe to get a massage. And I went out with Amber to get my legs waxed... and then, a few days later, she taught me how to do LHR." He paused and leaned forward again. "Laser hair removal, for your legs." "Yeah," Tyler said. "Yeah, I know about LHR. Amber was telling me about it earlier." "Okay, good. So it was all fun stuff, nothing too objectionable. During this time, I had kept on designing, by the way. That's what Jackson was paying me for. I was putting a lot of work into the design for my old body, but at the same time I was doing a lot of work on my current body, as well. Tweaking the bone structure a bit, getting the appendage proportions right, making the nose smaller and the eyes thinner. I even increased the size of the breasts, because I realized I had over- corrected them to too small a size when I was still dealing with the shock of being female." Tyler smirked. "You made your own breasts bigger?" "I had to. It's in my nature. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to my work. And the breasts just didn't look right on the body I was wearing, so I made them bigger. Not as big as the first ones I'd designed, but still bigger. It felt weird having them hanging off my chest, naturally, but they looked great. I'd spend hours looking at myself naked in the mirror in Zoe's room, trying to find imperfections. Then I'd get dressed, head back to my studio, and apply the changes. Jackson would get the updated design, and then a while later I'd feel that tingling in my skin. Every time I came home from work, I looked slightly different. Zoe made a game of it, actually, trying to figure out what I'd done to myself since the last time she saw me. After the first few days, I was used to waking up with boobs swinging off my chest and that empty space between my legs. After the first week, I had spent so much time on the May Young body that I felt personally invested in it... in making sure it looked right all the time. No matter what I was doing or what I was wearing, I wanted it to look perfect. I really wasn't ready to give it up just yet. By the time my May Young body looked the way I wanted it to, I had completely given up on the idea of trying to trick Jackson into giving me my old body back. I hadn't worked on my old body in over a week. I'd become so entranced in my work for my current body that I'd forgotten to do anything about my old one." "And it's not like Jackson would've let you have your old body back, anyway," Tyler said. "She would have," Paul said. "I'm positive she would have. She saw me in the dorms one day, walking around, and complimented me on how much better my body was now that the breasts weren't so exaggerated and the proportionality was so flattering. She asked me if I was ready to move on to another project - tweaking some of the unused designs that the previous designer had left behind. I told her yeah, sure... but then I asked her if I'd have to switch into those other body designs right away, same as how I'd switched into the May Young body right after I designed the first version. She just shrugged and said I could use whichever body I wanted." "Except for your male one, right?" "No. Not right. Here's the thing: I got back to my studio later that day. Jackson had sent over two folders worth of designs. One folder was marked 'unused designs', and the other folder was marked 'imprints'. I was curious, so I opened up the imprints folder. That folder contained a bunch of perfectly normal-looking body designs. Mostly women, some of them pretty, but none of them were nearly as attractive as the average Ringed Amusements girl. And then I came across myself. My body was in that folder... and it wasn't the one I had been designing during work hours. It was literally the body I came to the station in, the one I'd had my whole life. The nanobots took a full anatomical impression of my regular body, sent the impression through Jackson's software, saved it in the 'imprints' folder, and then got to work on changing me into May Young. Everyone who has the nanosurgery done on them has the design for their original body backed up on Jackson's server, in that 'imprints' folder. Jackson sent that folder to me. It was her own subtle way of telling me I could have my old body back if I wanted it." Tyler straightened up in his seat, knowing where Paul was going with this, amazed at the implication. "You didn't request your old body back, did you?" "Another ten points for the lady in the pretty red dress," Paul said, swigging his scotch again. "Nope. I didn't ask for it back. I knew that too much about my life would change if I went back to being Paul Mayfield right away. I knew it would change my relationships with Zoe and the other girls... and I wasn't ready for that just yet. I really was having a good time at my job and a great time with everyone in the dorms, when they weren't off freelancing. And Zoe and I had become really close friends, despite the fact that she'd never seen me in my real body or knew what my real name was. I didn't want to mess with any of that... not until I knew that Zoe and I would stay good friends no matter what I had between my legs. Spending time with the other girls and living with Zoe for a couple weeks had softened me on the idea of staying a woman for a while. So that's what I did." "Wow," Tyler said. "Not me, man. Not me. I can't wait to get out of this body." Tyler shook his head, looked out the window into the foyer, and tried to believe the lie he'd just told.