Welcome To Saturn Beta - Part 12 free porn video

Paul paid for his drinks and escorted Tyler back into foyer, toward the bank of elevators at the center. Tyler followed along behind, purse slung over his shoulder, gingham dress swishing playfully around his knees, pearl earrings dangling from his lobes, heeled pumps clicking along the polished concrete floor. He looked around furtively, hoping not to recognize anyone he saw here on the 39th floor. He didn't want anyone to think that he and Paul were out on a date or anything like that. Though if he did have to be on a date with a man, Paul was certainly a good choice. He was a big guy, first of all, good for fending off any would-be sleazebags who might try to take advantage of Tyler's slight frame and demure attitude. He told a good story, too - which, Tyler had to admit to himself, made him good company to have around. No wonder all the other girls at Ringed Amusements had liked him so much... and no wonder why Zoe had become friends with May Young so quickly and had stayed friends with Paul Mayfield later on. Tyler remembered back to the lounge event on the fifth floor, which happened only a couple days ago but seemed like ancient history now. Zoe had come alongside Paul after he threw that punch, admiring what he had just done. Then Paul had put his arm around her, held her close, and kissed the top of her head. There was a friendliness to that sequence of events, a familiarity... and all that without even the slightest hint of romantic interest or sexual tension. And then Zoe had mentioned earlier today, down in the wardrobe, that she considered herself to be Paul's over-protective older sister, always looking out for him and making sure he was getting enough to eat. Tyler was still curious about something, though... "Hey, Paul," Tyler said, once he and Paul were waiting in front of the elevator bank. "Did you and Zoe ever..." "No," Paul interrupted. "I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is no. We're just friends." "You never took it any further than that? Once you got your body back?" Paul sighed. "Zoe and I talked about it, after I decided it was time to change back. We even went on a couple dates. She thought I was attractive as a man, and obviously she's a complete knockout... all of the girls and Ringed Amusements are, as I'm sure you've noticed. Present company included." "Thanks," Tyler muttered, folding his arms under his breasts. "You're welcome. It would have been a bad idea, though. Me and Zoe. We're both firm believers in keeping business and pleasure separate. Plus, if we'd ever gone further that those couple of dates, it would have been really awkward for both of us... considering what Zoe does for a living. I don't hold her profession against her, of course. I don't hold it against any of the girls. I don't hold it against you, either, for the record." "I'm not... god, Paul, I'm not doing any freelancing," Tyler said, knowing it was only half true. He wasn't doing any freelancing with men, truthfully. That was enough to keep what remained of his masculine dignity intact. "Whoa, sorry," Paul said. "Didn't mean anything by it. Really, though, I don't think any less of Zoe or the other girls for what they do. But I know myself, and I know I can get kind of jealous and territorial, and I know I wouldn't be able to share Zoe with the rest of the station. So, again, the answer is no. Zoe and I have never hooked up." "Fair enough." The elevator bell rang, and Paul held his hand out for Tyler to get on first. A gentlemanly gesture in the presence of a pretty young woman, Tyler knew. And a completely unnecessary one, considering Paul knew that Tyler's current body was just temporary. Still, Tyler got onto the elevator at Paul's urging and folded his hands over his waist, waiting for Paul to follow him on. "You're going down, right? 20th floor?" Paul said. "I'll go down with you." "Aren't you going down, too?" Tyler asked. "The printing press is on the 5th." "My studio's on the 48th. I only go down to the press to make sure the nanobot control servers are working right. They make a lot of noise, the servers, so it makes sense to keep them in the printing press with all the other noisy shit Jackson owns. Any time you see me down there in the press, that's what I'm doing." "Ah," Tyler said. That made sense. And to think, before today, Tyler thought Paul was just a regular workman at the printing press. He had no idea that Paul was an anatomical designer... or that he had designed the very body Tyler was occupying right now. It made Tyler feel very conscious of himself; and, as the elevator began its descent, he couldn't help but step away from Paul. Paul probably knew Tyler's body better than Tyler did. As honest as Paul had been about himself while they were having drinks, and as nonchalant as he was about his job, Tyler still felt a general unease creeping all through his flesh. He nervously started fingering the pearls around his neck. Tyler wondered if Paul had spent a few days inside the busty, auburn-haired frame himself before releasing it into Jackson's supply for someone else to use... "Just so we're on the same page," Paul said, interrupting Tyler's thoughts, "and if you don't mind me asking, how did you end up here? On Beta, with the company, with that body." Tyler sighed. "Long story." "Give me the short version, then." "Okay... well, I needed a favor. Jackson did me one. Now I owe her." "Ah ha. In debt to the boss lady. Well, you're sure not the first one who's been in that position. Can I give you some advice?" "Um... sure." Paul looked down at Tyler, directly into his eyes. "Don't be ashamed of it, or afraid of it, or embarrassed, or anything like that. You said you couldn't wait to get back to your old body... and that's fine. Understandable. But in the meantime, don't act like living as a woman and working at the company is the worst thing that's ever happened to you. Try to make the most of it. It doesn't have to be torture." "I never said it was torture," Tyler said. "It's just weird." "Weird, yeah. It has the potential to be fun, though. And a learning experience. And a whole bunch of other positive things. You don't need to fully embrace every aspect of your newfound femininity right away, but don't fight against it, either. It'll make the transition easier." Tyler shrugged. "It's been pretty easy, so far. It helps that I've been keeping busy." "Oh, that's no fun," Paul said, leaning against the back of the elevator. "Don't just keep busy. Take advantage of your new circumstances. Do some things that you'd never do as a man. Some really crazy stuff." "Crazy stuff. Things I'd never do as a man. Okay. Like wearing a dress and having my nails done?" Tyler held the skirt of his gingham dress in one hand and flashed his manicure at Paul with the other one. "Like dressing up as a French maid and serving drinks to a room full of horny businessmen? I think I've had enough of the crazy stuff." "That's not crazy. That's just what Jackson expects of you... part of the job, right? That's mundane, compared to some of the stuff you run in to out here. Don't just do what Jackson's forcing you to do, or what you're being paid for. Get out there and do some really off-the-wall shit." "Like what?" Paul shrugged. "You'll know it when it comes along." He nodded at the elevator display, which was now showing the 20th floor. "Here's your stop." "Oh," Tyler said, looking at the elevator doors as they slid open. "Yeah, this is me, I guess. Have a good one." "You too. And... sorry, for making you upset, back there at the bar. That wasn't my intention." "It's okay. You just caught me off guard, is all. I'm fine." "Good," Paul said as Tyler stepped off the elevator and into the foyer. "Well, welcome to Saturn Beta. Be careful out there. Not too careful. Crazy stuff, remember!" The doors closed again before Tyler could respond. He was flabbergasted at Paul's recommendation for how to live as a woman on the station. Crazy stuff? Tyler really had already had more than enough of that in the last few days. And Paul really needed to work on his definition of 'crazy', as far as Tyler was concerned. Being nanosurgically modified into a twentysomething female with the body of a supermodel was the craziest experience of all, he thought. Nothing could get more insane than that... But maybe that's what Paul had meant by what he said. The craziest possible thing had already happened to Tyler mere hours after he arrived on the rocket from Earth. Everything that had happened to Tyler since then - dressing up in feminine clothing, masturbating with Amber's vibrator, working the lounge event, the salon appointment with Connie, the sex that followed afterwards, the shopping trip earlier today - all of that was positively humdrum compared to the nanosurgery. There was nothing he could do of his own volition that could match up to the level of craziness of what Jackson had done to him with her army of tiny robots. This thought somehow comforted Tyler. He stood there in the foyer atop his high heels, suddenly feeling lighter, more at home, more ready to take on whatever Saturn Beta could throw at him. He looked at his surroundings, at all the luxurious boutique shops on the 20th floor, sandwiched between the massive entrances of Pyramid Suites and the San Hernandez Memorial Symphony Hall. One of the storefronts caught his eye - a jewelry shop. The sight of the shop caused an idea to flash through his head... an idea that he'd first had earlier today, back in the wardrobe... He took a deep breath, held his purse steady, and walked through the foyer toward the shop with his head held high and a spring in his step that he hadn't had since leaving Miami. He entered the shop, went up to the nearest salesperson, and asked her if they did navel piercings. ***** Twenty minutes later, Tyler walked out of the jewelry store with a new addition hiding under his dress, dangling from the upper rim of his navel, paid for via one of Tyler's newly-unfrozen credit accounts. The man who had given Tyler the piercing had told him not to fiddle with it too much, but Tyler couldn't help resting his hand lightly over his tummy, trying to feel the ring under the fabric of his dress. Just knowing it was there made him feel even more attractive than he already was. He felt proud, too - proud that he had followed through on the idea that popped into his head when he was in the wardrobe with Zoe this morning, proud that he had done something crazy in this new body of his. Crazy by his standards, at least, even if Paul would have disagreed. And he was proud of himself for doing something to surprise Connie with, after she had done so much for him over the course of the last couple days. He couldn't wait to show it to her later tonight, after their dinner date and the concert at the symphony hall... to stand there, naked before her, hands on his hips, waiting for her to notice something different about him... the thought of it caused a flirty smile to creep over Tyler's face as he walked through the Pyramid Suites doors and across the lobby to the concierge. He wanted to give Connie one more surprise tonight, but he needed a little help to pull it off. "Hi," he said to the female concierge behind the counter. "Do you have any extra... um... toiletries for your guests to borrow?" "Of course," the concierge said. She smiled dutifully back at Tyler and folded her hands. "What can I get for you?" Tyler wasn't sure how to word this... was there a special lingo that women used when discussing this sort of thing? He tried to remember what Amber had said when the subject first came up... "Um," he stammered, and then finally he decided to just blurt it out and hope for the best. "I need to get the hair off my legs." "Oh. No problem, ma'am. I can get you an LHR kit. Hang on..." The concierge knelt behind the counter and began rummaging around. Tyler rested an elbow on the table and waited, smirking at being called 'ma'am' for the first time. As long as he'd been in this body, and as long as Jackson planned on keeping him in it, Tyler knew he'd never get used to all these feminine forms of address. Violet. She. Her. Ma'am. So weird... The concierge reemerged from behind the counter and presented Tyler with a metallic case, branded with the Pyramid Suites name and logo, big enough to hold a hairbrush. "It'll charge in about an hour," she said. "And one charge is good enough for about three full shaves." "Great," Tyler said, turning the case over in his hands. "Thanks. Do I just leave it in my room, or should I bring it back down later?" The concierge smiled and shook her head. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's yours forever. Compliments of the house." "Oh. Wow... okay, thank you! Thank you very much." "Our pleasure." Tyler placed the LHR kit into his purse, causing the burgundy leather to bulge as hie zipped it up again. He thought he might need a bigger purse soon... then he shook the idea off. Needing a bigger purse. Jesus... what a stupid notion. He'd be long gone from Saturn Beta and his job at Ringed Amusements before he ever needed to upgrade to a larger purse. He walked out of the lobby and up the stairs, scolding himself internally for thinking something so ridiculous. Arriving at room 512, he let himself in, placed his perfectly satisfactory purse on the dresser near the door, and sat down on the king-size bed. He drummed his sparkly pink fingernails along the comforter atop the bed, trying to think of what to do next. He knew he had made a plan earlier for how to kill the time between the end of the shopping trip and the start of his date with Connie, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it was. The excitement of the day had distracted him, clearly. Especially the surprising meeting with Paul in the elevator and the equally surprising discussion afterward... Tyler kicked off his heels and reclined fully on the bed, placing his head on the pillows and splaying his legs out under his gingham dress. He went over Paul's story in his head... Tyler still couldn't believe that Paul, after being turned into an Asian dreamgirl against his will, would just tell all the other girls at Ringed Amusements who he really was. It seemed like such an enormous risk, no matter how understanding the girls were or how comfortable Paul eventually became during his time as May Young. Paul seemed to look fondly back on his time as a woman. Tyler knew he wouldn't feel the same once he was back in his old body. He had experienced some fun and interesting things, yes, but certainly there weren't enough appealing aspects about being female to make him want to stay this way. As soon as his debt was paid off, he was getting back into his old Tyler Hillman body and taking the next rocket to Earth without a second thought. Still... Paul had a good point about the relationships he had with the girls at the company, and how they wouldn't have been the same if he hadn't been "one of the gals", as he put it. And all the girls still liked and respected Paul, speaking highly of him when he wasn't around. He remembered how Amber and Zoe had made mention of Paul's first day on the job, about how it had been really rough on him, and how it was a "whale of a story," according to Amber herself. Now that Tyler knew the whole truth about Paul... yes, he had to admit, he had a pretty difficult first day. No more difficult than Tyler's own first day, though. He rubbed his tummy, brushing his fingers over his new navel ring through the fabric of his dress, recalling the shock he went through after realizing what had been done to him, remembering his first meeting with Amber... And he thought about his own relationship with Amber, at how they had become such close friends after just a few days of knowing each other. He wondered what it would be like to tell her his life story. His real life story, not the fabricated one about the Mars mining colony. He couldn't do that to her. He was too deep into character now, too invested in the countless lies he had told her. As much as he liked Amber and trusted her, and as much as he had been impressed with how Paul had handled his own transformation, Tyler knew he could never be completely honest with Amber about himself. A wave of guilt swept over him, briefly, and subsided when Tyler reminded himself of who he really was - an extremely adept info broker from Miami, merely using his time here at Ringed Amusements to hide out until the heat was off. Upon remembering his true self, he remembered what he had planned on doing this afternoon: following up with Dennis about the sudden appearance of Ben Rosenthal. Tyler rolled off the bed, went over to the dresser, unzipped his purse, fingered his way past the LHR kit, and took out his smartphone. A new message from Dennis had arrived since the last time Tyler checked his phone: WE'RE SECURE. GO AHEAD. Tyler looked down at the message for a few seconds, organizing his thoughts, holding his phone in one hand and absentmindedly fingering his new piercing with the other. After a minute or two, he finally knew what he wanted to send back to Dennis: BEN ROSENTHAL IS HERE ON THE STATION. I CAN GET CLOSE TO HIM. I WANT YOUR HONEST OPINION ON WHETHER OR NOT THAT'S A GOOD IDEA. Tyler added that last sentence as a courtesy to Dennis. If Tyler tried to run any kind of scam on Ben, it would be the first time ever that he would be running a revenge job. Targeting Ben Rosenthal was a roundabout way of targeting Gordon Rosenthal himself, the big boss, the man who was probably after Tyler's blood. Which meant this would be an emotionally- charged piece of business... and Tyler always had made it a point to leave emotion out of his job. He'd had opportunities in the past to screw over people who had wronged him in some way - ex-girlfriends, rival info brokers, the Florida Department of Revenue - but he'd never taken those shots. It was always a bad idea... but he was very tempted to engage in this particular bad idea. It would be less risky than most revenge jobs, after all. Violet Taylor would be doing the work; Tyler Hillman wasn't part of the equation. Tyler pressed the Send button on his phone and returned it to his purse. It'd be several hours until Dennis received the message and several more hours until Tyler got a reply back, thanks to the vast distance between Saturn Beta and Miami. He told himself not to bother checking his phone again until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Tomorrow morning, when he'd be down in Connie's luxury suite, laying next to her in bed after a night of passionate lesbian lovemaking... Tyler grinned widely at the thought and felt a warming in his feminine nethers. He couldn't wait to see Connie again. He checked the clock on the end table next to his bed - Connie would be around to collect him in only a couple more hours. He wondered how long it would take to get ready, and he also wondered when the delivery robot from Incantevole would arrive with all the clothing Connie had bought for him today. He needed that blue evening gown! He wanted Connie to see him in it, and he wanted to see her reaction to him wearing it, posing in it, walking in it... and he longed to see himself in it again, too. To be covered from chest to ankle in beautiful emerald sequins, to enjoy the boning of the bodice hugging his torso and breasts, to feel the weight of it as it hung over his legs... As if on cue, Tyler heard a light rapping at the door to his room. Speak of the devil - that was the delivery now. Tyler went to the door and opened it, then gasped at what he saw in the hallway. "Well, sorry for the intrusion, missy," said Pierre, the stylist from yesterday's salon appointment, with his trademark lisp. He placed a hand on his hip in mock offense. "Apparently I'm not wanted here." "Pierre!" Tyler said, catching his breath. "Sorry. I... I was expecting something else. You surprised me." "Surprising girls like you is what I do best. Cute dress. Gingham. Very retro. Like, extremely retro. Like, so retro maybe it's going to come back around again. We should be so lucky." Tyler brushed a hand against the skirt of his gingham dress. "Thanks. Um... what are you doing here, though? Are you... oh, I get it. Connie wanted you to..." "Yup. I'm here to get you all prettied up for your big date tonight." He held up what looked like a leatherbound toolbox in his other hand - his portable makeup kit, Tyler guessed... his enormous, all-encompassing makeup kit. "Symphony, huh? You lucky bitches. I've been here on the station for three years and still never been to a show. Are you gonna invite me in, or what?" "Oh, yeah, sorry," Tyler said. He held the door open and stood to the side, allowing Pierre plenty of room to enter. Pierre took stock of the room and deposited his toolbox in front of a small vanity on the far end of the room. Putting both hands on his hips, he looked around the room some more, examining the bed, the dressers, the mounted flatscreen, and everything else in sight. He went into the bathroom and looked around in there, as well. Tyler hadn't even taken a look at the bathroom yet. He wondered what Pierre was up to. "Nice," Pierre said finally. "You're new in town, right? Is this where you're living?" Tyler shook his head no. "I'm just here for tonight." "You got somewhere else you've been staying?" "Yeah. Up on the 48th floor with the rest of..." Tyler stopped himself. He didn't know if Pierre knew about him, about his normal living arrangements on the station, about the company he was working for... Maybe it would be best not to volunteer too much information about that. Or maybe Pierre had already figured it out. "48th floor," Pierre said. Tyler sighed - yup, Pierre had figured it out. "Shit," Tyler said, folding his arms under his breasts and looking off to the side. "I don't suppose you're talking about spindle number seven," Pierre said. He raised and lowered his eyebrows rapidly. "It's not what you think," Tyler said. "I'm not... I don't do any of the..." "Oh, please, honey," Pierre said, flapping his hand in Tyler's direction. "Like I care. I've run into you Ringed Amusements girls before. You're good people. Now, granted, most of you don't run around the station advertising that you live on the 7th spindle of the 48th floor..." "I wasn't advertising! You asked, I answered. I was trying to be personable." "You sound embarrassed. You shouldn't be." Tyler put his hands on his hips and assumed his most confident feminine voice. "I'm not. Like I said, I don't do any of the... hooker stuff." "You sure?" "I'm sure," Tyler said, even though it was, as of last night, technically a lie. "Well, you should consider it. Fine little thing like you probably could make a ton of money, if you decided to branch out a bit." "Not gonna happen." Pierre looked at Tyler sideways. "So why's Miss Giordano renting you out, then?" "Who said she was renting me out?" Tyler said, compounding the lie. "Maybe she and I are just good friends who enjoy eachother's company. Ever think about that?" "Good friends, huh? I have a hard time believing that a 'good friend' of Miss Giordano's has never been to a salon before and never had her goddamn nails done. You're stretching a bit too far with this, Violet." Sighing loudly, Tyler looked up at the ceiling. "Can we drop it, please?" "Sure. So long as you do me a little favor when you get back to the 48th floor." "What's that?" Pierre smiled deviously. "Put in a good word for me with your boss lady. She is a lady, right? I think she's a lady. Anyway, talk to her for me. I want a job at your company. Doing my magic, of course." He flourished his fingers and nodded at his leatherbound makeup kit. "I've wanted a job at Ringed Amusements since the day I found out it exists." "You..." Tyler stammered. "What? You want a job doing makeup for... us?" "Oh, hell yeah," Pierre said. "And let's be honest: you ladies need my help. Most of you have no idea what you're doing with mascara or lipstick. You need me. Plus, well, like I was saying yesterday... my own boss lady is riding my ass a bit too hard for my liking. And I'm the kind of guy who likes getting his ass ridden, if you know what I mean by that." Tyler narrowed his eyes. "Wow. Thanks for the mental image, Pierre." "Come on. Pleeeease," Pierre said, balling his hands into tight fists, begging like a petulant child. "You gotta help me get out of there. I promise - I won't be nasty to you for the rest of the night if you say something nice about me the next time you talk to your boss. Cross my heart." "You shouldn't be nasty to me anyway, Pierre. Connie's not paying you to mouth off." They stood in silence for a minute, Pierre with an expectant look slapped across his face, Tyler with an annoyed one. Tyler looked over his shoulder at the makeup kit on the vanity table. He had to admit, Pierre was damn good at his job. He had made Tyler look more beautiful yesterday than Tyler thought was possible... and that was just daytime makeup, which Connie had stressed was decidedly less elaborate and dramatic than an evening look. Tyler couldn't help but wonder what Pierre had in store to get him ready for the symphony tonight. He thought about Connie some more, and kept anticipating the moment she saw him for the first time tonight when she came by to retrieve him for their date... "No being nasty," Tyler said, finally. "No smart-ass comments about how I have no idea what to do with my hair or my makeup. You have to be super-nice to me from here on out. And you have to make me look even better than you did yesterday. Miss Giordano demands the finest things in life, after all. Blow her mind. Then I'll put in a word with my boss lady." "You got a deal, honey," Pierre said excitedly. "And I can easily make you look better tonight than I did yesterday. Please, girl. I was in such a bad mood yesterday that I wasn't doing a thing right. We'd better get to it. What're you wearing to the symphony?" "Um," Tyler said, looking around the room, as if his gown and the rest of his clothes from Incantevole would magically appear. "It hasn't come yet. The place I got the dress from is supposed to be sending it up here. I thought the door knocking was the delivery robot. That's why I was so surprised when you showed up." "Delivery bots don't knock. Unless they've got some crazy new ones running around that have hands." Pierre went to the door leading into the hall, opened it, looked up and down the hallway, and closed it again. "Well, hell. Still not here. Fine. We'll do your makeup based on the jewelry you're wearing, then. Show me what you've got." "Uh..." Tyler said, once again feeling the unfamiliar weight of the pearls hanging from his neck and dangling from his earlobes. And the new navel piercing, of course. "I don't... this is the only jewelry I have, really." Pierre put a hand on his hip. "I'm not letting you wear pearls to the symphony, honey. You're not a 75-year-old grandmother." He looked at Tyler slyly. "Unless you are one. I've heard stories about what those nanobots can do." "No, Pierre, I'm not," Tyler groaned. "Fine," Pierre said. He reached into his back pocket for a tiny smartphone and began thumbing at the screen. "What's the name of the place you got your dress from?" Tyler folded his arms under his chest and sighed. "Oh, shoot... I forget the exact name of the shop. It's down on the 14th floor... something Italian, starts with an I..." "Incantevole. Good choice," Pierre said, swiping around on his phone. After a moment he put it to his ear and held up a finger, indicating to Tyler to wait. Tyler nodded and sat down on the bed, folding his hands on his skirted lap, wondering what Pierre was up to. He seemed to know what he was doing, though, and Tyler trusted him fully in whatever he hand in mind. Pierre was way better at handling all this women's fashion and style stuff than Tyler was, that's for sure. Even though Pierre was a man. Tyler caught himself traveling on this train of thought and had to remind himself that HE was a man, too, even if current appearances indicated otherwise. He rolled his eyes at his absent-mindedness, shook his head, and waited to see what Pierre had up his sleeve. "Hey, Fran, guess who?" Pierre said into his phone as a smile broke out over his face. "Fran?" Tyler said, amused that Pierre was talking to the very woman who had helped Tyler out earlier today. And apparently they knew each other already. That certainly was fortuitous. "Yup, it's me," Pierre continued. "Hey, so, I'd love to chat but I'm in a bit of a hurry right now. Sorry if I get short and bitchy with you." He paused. "Yes. Coffee next week, definitely. I haven't seen you in forever. Hey, listen, so, I'm here with Violet..." He pulled the phone away from his face and looked at Tyler. "What's your last name, honey?" "Taylor," Tyler lied. "Violet Taylor," Pierre said into the phone again. "She was there at your store earlier today and... oh, no shit? You did? Well, that'll make this a whole lot faster, then. So she picked up a dress to wear to the symphony tonight and... yup, right. Problem is, she doesn't have any jewelry to go with it. Do you think you could... perfect. Yup. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, whatever you've got. Definitely need a clutch or a handbag, too. We'll mix and match ourselves." Pierre paused again and gave a thumbs up to Tyler. "You're a lifesaver as always, Fran. Thank you so much, sweetheart. Yup, I'll see you next week. Okay. Bye-bye." Tyler placed his hands on his bare knees and drummed his manicured nails. "That sounded promising." "Oh yeah, very promising. Fran's the best. She's going to load up another box with all kinds of fun stuff for you," Pierre explained, returning his phone to his back pocket. "And she also said that the delivery robot just left, so it should be showing up here any minute now. When do we need to have you ready to go?" Looking back at the bedside clock again, Tyler said, "Two hours, ten minutes." "Perfect. Okay, honey, you hop in the shower while I get myself set up out here. And don't be too rough when you're drying your hair, okay? Or better yet, yell for me when you get out of the shower and I'll dry it for you." "Um," Tyler said, looking at the bathroom door. "Okay. Sure. I'll be out in a minute. No peeking, now." "Please," Pierre said. "Whatever you've got under that dress, I'm not interested in it. Trust me." Tyler and Pierre traded sarcastic smiles as Tyler lifted himself off the bed and went into the bathroom. He slipped out of his red gingham dress, hung it on the door hook, stripped out of his bra and panties, and stood before the wide bathroom mirror wearing only his pearls... and his navel piercing, with a pink spinel stud marking where the hole had been made, chosen to match his fingernails. Three more pink spinels dangled over his cute little belly button, suspended by thin white gold chains. The precious stones and metals glinted in the light of the bathroom mirror and made Tyler all the more excited for tonight's date with Connie. He felt incredibly sexy right now, just because of the navel piercing, and he imagined what Connie's face would look like when she saw it for the first time. There was so much he was anticipating about tonight, all of it involving Connie and her reactions to his attire and appearance. Deep in the back of Tyler's mind, though, he knew he was excited about this even if Connie wasn't part of the equation. He had loved the way he looked in the sapphire blue evening gown and he relished the thought of wearing it again, atop those strappy high heels, making his way through the symphony hall with all manner of people watching him go by. And he loved the way the sheer black babydoll had looked in his hands and felt against his skin, when he picked it out in the wardrobe earlier, even though he hadn't had a chance to wear it yet... he was looking forward to sliding into it and getting the full effect of being a sexy young woman attired in titillating lingerie. He could barely contain his anticipation as he took the dangling pearls out of his earlobes, placed them on the bathroom counter along with the pearl necklace, and stepped into the shower... Then he stepped right back out, wrapped a towel around himself from breasts to thighs, hopped out into the bedroom again, opened his purse, retrieved his newly-acquired LHR kit, and went back into the bathroom. Pierre paid him no attention. ***** The tiny instruction card that came with the LHR kit recommended doing the treatment on dry skin rather than wet skin. Tyler sighed with relief. Things might have been a lot more difficult for him if he had remembered his legs after taking his shower rather than before. He ran his fingers idly over his sexy but stubbly left leg, eager to smooth things over before his date with Connie. He sat on the closed toilet seat and looked at the foreign instrument in his right hand. It was metal, with a straight handle and a curved... applicator? Brush? Blade? It looked like a sword, almost... a very dull sword that couldn't cut through anything. The inside of the blade was dotted with about a hundred teeny tiny holes, so small that Tyler could barely see them. He figured those were where the lasers came from. Maybe. He had no fucking idea where the lasers came from, or how this thing worked at all. He could only trust in what the instruction card was telling him. And the first thing it told him was to turn it on by pressing a button on the handle. Tyler did this and the thing hummed to life in his hand, causing the air behind the blade to turn a faint blue. "Whoa," he said, surprised at how the LHR appliance awakened. He looked at the instruction card for further guidance and did what it said. Holding the blue light an inch from his skin, he started at the spot behind his toes and slowly, slowly drew it upward along the length of his right foot. In the wake of the blue light, Tyler saw a faint powdery substance. Burned-up hair, he gathered, along with a tiny portion of burned-up skin. The process didn't hurt, lucky for Tyler, as he took the LHR all the way up the front of his leg to the top of his thigh. He repeated the process again and again, first on the right side of his leg, then the back; then, as carefully as possible, the left side. He didn't quite trust the treatment yet, and he didn't want to get that crazy blue light anywhere near his sensitive lower lips. Once satisfied that his right leg was covered in the dusty remains of hair and skin, he switched to his left leg and did it all over again. Then he finally, gladly turned the LHR off and left it sitting on the counter while he got into the shower. The water swept all the leftovers away, and Tyler felt his newly-denuded legs. They felt silky smooth and slightly warm to the touch. Tyler congratulated himself on a job well done. First try, first success. He hummed happily as he shampooed his hair, soaped up his torso, and lathered up his perfect legs. All of the clothing and jewelry from Incantevole had arrived by the time Tyler was done with his shower. Pierre had pulled the wheeled clothes rack into the center of the room and placed a couple boxes on the dresser near the door, next to Tyler's purse. Tyler stood in the doorway from the bathroom, wearing one of Pyramid Suites' terry bathrobes, which he had cinched tight around his girlish waist. His hair hung free and sopping over his shoulders. "I'm done," Tyler said, leaning out into the main room. "I left my hair wet, just like you said." "Hmm. Damn, girl," Pierre said. He was fingering through the various dresses, blouses, skirts, gowns, and other items on the rack. "Not sure if it's you, or Fran, or Miss Giordano... but one of you has really good taste. There's some beautiful stuff in here, that's for sure." He turned away from the rack and faced Tyler. "Good. Okay, so, here's the plan. Hair first, makeup second, then we get you dressed. You can wear that robe for the time being. Let's get me a towel..." Pierre walked past Tyler into the bathroom, where he retrieved a thick towel from the shelf next to the mirror. He unfurled it and came up behind Tyler, where he took the long auburn locks into the towel and squeezed. Then he patted, squeezed, and rubbed to his satisfaction while Tyler just stood there and tried to keep his head steady. Eventually Pierre ushered Tyler over to the vanity in the main room, where Tyler sat and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was less frizzy than it usually was upon exiting a shower, but it still needed plenty of work before it would be presentable. The diamond studs in his second ear piercings peeked out from under his hair, and he looked with mild fascination at his naked, holed earlobes. It was amazing to him that he had started the day with zero piercings and arrived at this point, sitting here at the vanity, with five. Though only four of them were visible right now... Pierre brandished a large hairbrush and began yanking away at Tyler's hair, and soon the mop of wavy auburn was manageable enough to begin on the real work. Pierre started taking handfuls of hair and twisting it, then fastening it with a bobby pin close to Tyler's scalp. Tyler looked at Pierre through the mirror, concerned. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Giving you an updo," Pierre replied. He looked back at Tyler's smoky green eyes. "Don't worry. You're gonna look amazing." Tyler shut his mouth and let Pierre do his thing. After several more minutes of twisting and pinning, all of Tyler's hair had been pulled out of his face and behind his head, suspended above his neck by what felt like twenty or thirty bobby pins. Tyler could definitely feel a little extra weight back there in addition to the already unfamiliar weight of his long auburn hair. It was all much different than what he was used to, back in Miami, with his close-cropped hairstyle that couldn't have anything elaborate done to it due to lack of length. The only way a bobby pin would have stayed in his old hair is if he glued it onto his scalp. "Just a few more things," Pierre said. He took out a tall can of hairspray and applied it all over Tyler's hair, ostensibly to hold everything in place in case some of the bobby pins came loose. He then reached into a leather case about the size of a tablet sleeve, and pulled out a pair of long, platinum pins. The pins were almost the length of chopsticks and had attractive, milky-white jewels affixed to the thicker end. Pierre threaded these pins through Tyler's hair, increasing the weight even more but also causing a dramatic effect when Tyler looked at them in the mirror. Pierre reached into the leather case again and produced a handful of pink stones set in sliver settings, attached to sliver chains. "We're going with pink for the accents, honey," Pierre explained. "To match your nails." "Okay," Tyler said. He smirked at his reflection in the mirror. His nails weren't the only pink thing that the accents would match. He snuck a hand inside the folds of his bathrobe, fingering the navel piercing, almost as if to make sure it was still there. Meanwhile, Pierre clipped the pink stones to the thick ends of the platinum pins in Tyler's hair, then clipped another stone to the thin ends, then backed away from his work to study it from afar. Tyler turned his head from side to side to get a better look at what Pierre had accomplished. His hair had been swept up completely, leaving bare his cheeks, ears, neck and forehead. The updo was impressive to look at, but the long platinum pins took it to another level of elaborateness and sophistication. The four pink stones that dangled from the ends of the pins shook and bounced with every slight movement of his head. "You know," Tyler said, turning his head again to get a look from the other side, "my boss, the one you want me to set you up with. She wears chopsticks in her hair all the time." "Well, then," Pierre said, touching the back of Tyler's updo, as if making sure everything was properly in place, "she's clearly a very classy lady." "You could say that." Tyler looked at Pierre through the mirror. "It looks fantastic, Pierre. Thank you." "You're welcome. I'm gonna need those pins back when you're done with them tonight. You can give them back to me when I come up to the 48th floor for my interview. How's that?" Pierre winked at Tyler in the mirror, and Tyler smiled back. Pierre came to the front of Tyler's chair and examined his handiwork head-on, fussing a bit with the hair above Tyler's forehead until he was fully satisfied with the results. He then straightened up, folded his arms, and squinted. "Good," Pierre said. "Now for the makeup." Pierre returned to his giant case and extracted countless jars, bottles, tubes, and other equipment while Tyler sat before the vanity, admiring his new hairstyle. Eventually Pierre came back to the vanity and began applying some of the "miracle drug" foundation to Tyler's face. Tyler closed his eyes and left Pierre to his work without asking questions... not that he would have known what kind of questions to ask in the first place. As Pierre finished with the foundation and moved on to eyeshadow, lipstick, blush, mascara, and the rest of it, Tyler noticed that this new coat of makeup was much darker, stronger, and more obvious than the daytime makeup he had worn to high tea yesterday. The effect was quite glamorous and attention-grabbing, just like the long platinum pins in his hair, or the stones that dangled from the pins, or the evening gown Tyler would soon be slipping into... Pierre finished with a "voila," and had Tyler examine himself in the mirror. Tyler had nothing but admiration for what he saw - Violet Taylor, a beautiful young woman made even more beautiful under Pierre's skilled hands and years of experience. Tyler looked sultry, entrancing, glamorous, captivating... he could not have been more impressed with Pierre's work. "Very nice, Pierre," Tyler said, turning his face from side to side while looking at himself in the mirror. "You were right. I look amazing." "Damn right, I was right," Pierre bragged, grinning slyly back at Tyler. He looked over his shoulder at the clock on the end table. "Well, forty minutes to go. Time to get you dressed up." Tyler stood and accompanied Pierre to the clothing rack, where they found the sequined, sapphire-blue gown inside an opaque white garment back. While Pierre took the gown out of the bag and hung it on a coathook near the vanity, Tyler surreptitiously grabbed his overnight bag and took it into the bathroom. He then stripped out of his robe and opened the overnight bag, finding the lacy black pair of panties he had picked out in the wardrobe earlier. He slid the panties up his legs and over his hips. The panties were quite abbreviated, rising only as far as the bottom of his waist and displaying plenty of thigh, while the lacy nylon material was nearly translucent - a single patch of lace detail covered Tyler's labia, and just barely. Tyler thrilled at the thought of wearing something so daring under his gown... then got a bit nervous upon realizing that he'd have to show himself to Pierre while wearing this. And while topless, to boot. And while wearing his sexy, tantalizing navel piercing... But Pierre had made it very clear that he was gay, and not interested in Tyler's body as anything other than a canvas on which to display his artistic skill. Tyler still didn't like the idea of showing off so much of his feminine body to a man, even if the man in question wouldn't try anything funny. Nevertheless, Tyler mustered up his courage and went back into the main room, wearing nothing but his lacy black panties, his elaborate hairdo, and his piercing. "Hmm," Pierre said, almost dismissively, which somehow made Tyler feel better about standing there with his large breasts hanging out for all to see. "All right. Let's zip you into this thing and then figure out the jewelry." "Sure," Tyler said, as Pierre took the evening gown off the hook. Tyler bent over in front of the clothing rack and opened some of the boxes from Incantevole, looking for the shoes he had worn when trying the gown on earlier. Upon finding them, he slid his left foot under the rhinestone-studded straps and then buckled the last strap behind his ankle, then repeated the process on his right foot. Pierre unzipped the gown, lowered it for Tyler to step into, and offered his shoulders for Tyler to hold onto. The two worked in tandem to make sure Tyler's four- inch heels didn't catch against the interior of the garment as he stepped in. Once his feet were properly situated, Tyler stood up straight and balanced on the new heels, the highest he'd ever worn by a full inch. He tried not to think too much about accidentally toppling forward onto Pierre. "Up we go," Pierre said, lifting the bodice upward. Tyler grabbed the top of the bodice and placed it over his breasts, glad to have some covering again. Pierre fussed with the skirt of the dress, making sure it was hanging correctly, before positioning himself at Tyler's side and zipping him up. Tyler felt the boned material hugging his torso once more and briefly reveled in the sensation. He pressed a palm against the lower section of the bodice, over his belly button, making sure his navel piercing wouldn't pinch too much while inside the tight confines of the bodice. It felt different to have constant pressure against the piercing, but it wasn't uncomfortable. "Looking good, honey," Pierre said, stepping around the dress and looking at Tyler from every angle. "Jesus. If you were showing any more leg over here..." Pierre flicked a finger at the high slit in Tyler's gown. Tyler smiled and tried to playfully kick Pierre with his exposed left leg. Pierre easily dodged the pointed toe of Tyler's strappy blue pump. "Are you good in there?" Pierre asked. He stood in front of Tyler with a hand under his chin, studying the glamorous young lady before him. "Do you need any extra padding to keep it from slipping down?" "No, no," Tyler said, looking down at his bare clavicles, the tops of his D-cup breasts, the sequined bodice covering his areolae, and the open space between his breasts that the sweetheart neckline provided. "Definitely not. It's pretty tight on me. It's not going anywhere." "Not too tight, I hope. Can you breathe?" "Yeah," Tyler said, and he took a few breaths to prove it. The boned bodice allowed him to breathe comfortably, though he could definitely feel a little constriction around his lungs. Deep, full breaths wouldn't be possible, but that was nothing to worry about. He was going to a symphony, after all, not running a marathon. Pierre shrugged. "Okay, well, you're the one who has to wear it." "I don't have to wear it, Pierre. I want to wear it," Tyler replied. And it didn't sound silly to him as he said it... and he meant it. He was glad to be back in the exquisite gown that he had fallen in love with during his shopping spree at Incantevole. He knew how good he looked in the sparkling blue gown, liked the way it firmly hugged his breasts and upper body, enjoyed the silky swish of the skirt across his thighs and knees and shins, and thoroughly loved the way it showed off his statuesque left leg. He felt perfectly at home while wearing it, just as he was starting to feel accustomed to his feminine body and the rest of the things he had been wearing over the last few days. He was long past being embarrassed by his new self... that discussion with Paul had settled Tyler further into his voluptuous body, his ambiguously disreputable job at Ringed Amusements, his glamorous clothing, and his identity as Violet Taylor. By the time Pierre had brought Tyler over to the vanity to work on his jewelry, Tyler felt nothing but radiant pride at what he saw in the mirror. ***** There were about ten minutes left before Connie was supposed to show up. Tyler sat alone at the vanity in his suite, twisting his head this way and that, examining the jewelry he now wore. Platinum and diamonds, all of it. Platinum wasn't as valuable anymore, Pierre had explained to him, now that they had found that big deposit of it on a nearby moon. But the rarity of it didn't matter - not to Tyler, who thought it all looked fantastic on him. The earrings he wore were shaped like crescents and hung several inches under his lobes, with a thick row of diamonds through the center. The necklace wrapped around his neck like a choker while dangling several thick strands of platinum chains with diamonds spaced evenly throughout. Several larger, mounted diamonds hung into his cleavage, calling even more attention to Tyler's bounteous breasts. The stiff choker made Tyler feel almost as if he were wearing a wristwatch around his neck, such was the tightness and closeness of the metal to his skin. Every time he swallowed, he could feel the choker wobbling slightly. He giggled the first couple of times he noticed this, but the novelty soon wore off, and now he was used to it. He brought his right hand behind his neck to check the clasp of the choker, making sure it hadn't come loose. The wrist on his right hand hand had a tennis bracelet around it, made of platinum and diamonds identical to the rest of his jewelry. Pierre had also convinced him to wear a matching tennis bracelet around the ankle on his left leg... the leg which would be constantly exposed tonight thanks to the long slit in his gown. Tyler looked over at the bedside clock again. It had been about five minutes since Pierre had wished Tyler good luck, assured him that he looked absolutely beautiful, and left the room. Tyler had been alone since, staring at the mirror or looking out the window into the blackness of space. The anticipation of his date with Connie had reached a fever pitch now that Tyler had nothing to do but sit and wait. He had never been the one to wait before... he was always the one picking up the girl at her place, not the other way around. Connie had mentioned that this was something every girl should experience at least once in her life - getting ready in your own home, waiting for your handsome date to arrive, and being picked up and taken somewhere. There was something distinctly, traditionally feminine about this experience... Tyler thought it was pretty amazing that it had survived through the years and well into the 22nd century. He waited and waited, finding ways to pass the time - fiddling with his tennis bracelet, examining the polish on his nails, looking at himself in the mirror... after a time, he decided to get up from the vanity and practice walking in his four-inch heels. This ate up a couple more minutes of time and got Tyler more and more comfortable with being higher off the ground, forced further forward on the balls of his feet. Heel to toe, heel to toe, short steps, just like Amber had coached him and just like Fran had reiterated. Tyler felt like somewhat of an expert on navigating the new shoes, though the real test would come momentarily... whenever Connie finally showed up. He remembered he'd yet to do one more thing - get his handbag ready. Pierre had insisted that he take a proper, formal handbag to the symphony instead of carrying around his typical burgundy leather purse - you couldn't be dressed as nicely as Tyler was while still lugging around a regular old purse, apparently. Pierre had selected a champagne- colored, crystal-studded clutch that was just big enough to hold Tyler's phone in one sleeve and his Ringed Amusements tablet in the other. It had no shoulder strap, so Tyler knew he'd be carrying it around in his hands all night... he hoped he wouldn't accidentally leave it somewhere. As he slipped his necessities into the clutch, he found that he had room for one last item - something Pierre had referred to as a "first aid kit", a tiny silk bag with an eyeshadow compact, a tube of lipstick, a long cylinder of mascara, a compact mirror with some of the miracle-drug foundation in it, and an eyeliner pencil. All of these products had been used on Tyler's face while Pierre was making him up, and Pierre was more than happy to provide smaller-sized versions of everything for Tyler to take with him. Pierre wouldn't haven't been able to sleep tonight, he stressed, if he knew Tyler was going to dinner and the symphony without any touch-up supplies with him. Tyler grinned as he finished loading up his clutch and snapping it shut. Pierre had been a huge help and good company tonight. He remembered his promise, to try to get Pierre an interview with Jackson sometime. Tyler figured he could make that happen... especially since all the girls at Ringed Amusements were so busy now with the convention coming up. Having a hair and makeup expert like Pierre on the payroll would save the girls tons of time and make life a lot easier for everyone, Jackson included. Tyler resolved to talk to Jackson about it the next time he saw her. Pierre had earned the favor. Suddenly, Tyler heard a light rustling outside his hotel room door, followed by a feminine throat-clearing, then a polite knock on the door. Tyler smiled at Connie's arrival and checked himself one last time in the mirror. Every inch of him looked glamorous, beautiful, perfect. Grabbing his clutch, he walked over to the door and opened it. Connie Giordano stood in the hallway outside Tyler's door, bedecked in a light pink gown with jeweled spaghetti straps over her shoulders. The bodice of the gown hugged her chest before widening at the waist, spilling outward over her legs in a mixture of taffeta and fine lace detailing. The hem of Connie's gown stopped just above her ankles, giving Tyler a good view of her strappy pink sandal pumps, out from which peeked her foam-green toenails. Her brown and blonde pixie cut had been flattened a bit and looked longer than it had before, framing her face in a flattering way while allowing her diamond earrings to shine through. But the thing Tyler noticed most of all was Connie's smell - she had some perfume on tonight, something subtle yet tantalizing, and Tyler immediately wished that he had thought to ask Pierre for some of his own. Connie's face was done up with dark, dramatic evening makeup. She looked sultry and dignified, and more attractive than she ever had before. "Good evening, Violet," Connie said, holding her hands in front of her waist, gripping her own fashionable clutch bag. "Good evening, Connie," Tyler replied, smiling sheepishly. "You look... I don't even have the right words, to be frank," Connie said, scanning Tyler's body from toe-tip to updone hair. "Ravishing, maybe. Or unattainable. Unfair to the rest of the women on Saturn Beta. Certainly unfair to me. I feel like I should go home and change into something nicer." "No, Connie," Tyler said. He leaned forward and gave his date a brief but romantic kiss on her painted lips. "You look amazing." Putting a fist on her hip, Connie continued her examination. "Pierre really did a number on your hair. Those pins are... wow. I think next time, I'll have Phoebe tend to you and Pierre tend to me. He's a genuine artist, isn't he?" "He is," Tyler agreed, reaching behind his head to touch the long pins and the jewelry that dangled from their tips. "I definitely wouldn't have been able to do this myself." "And Fran sure did a good job of picking out a gown for you tonight." "Oh," Tyler said, beaming a bit. He pinched the side of his sapphire- blue gown and held it out from his body. "Actually, I picked this out myself. I saw it on a mannequin and just... gravitated toward it. You like it?" "I do. Very much." "Good. I want you to know something." Tyler stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. He looked deeply into Connie's eyes. "Everything I did today and tonight, to get ready for dinner and the symphony... I did it for you. I spent all day wondering how you would react when you came to pick me up. So..." Tyler took half a step back in his four-inch heels and did a little twirl. "What do you think?" "Oh..." Connie said. She stepped back as well, just slightly, and held a hand over her lower waist... almost as if she was in pain. A surprised look came over her face, but she quickly waved it away and looked back at Tyler with a mixture of admiration and abject lust. "Oh, Violet. You already know what I think. I think you're probably the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I've been around plenty of women, professionally and socially. You just... eclipse them. There's no other word for it." Tyler grinned widely at the compliment. "Thank you. I aim to please." "You please very well," Connie said, shifting on her sandals. Her hips flinched slightly, and she grimaced a bit while looking down at the floor. "Are you okay?" Tyler asked, placing a hand on Connie's shoulder. "I'm fine," Connie said. She looked into Tyler's eyes again. "Just a little gurgling in my stomach, is all. Forget about me. Let's talk about you. You mentioned this morning that you were up for anything. Can I count on that still being true?" "Definitely," Tyler said. "Good. Let's start with you walking down the hallway a few steps in front of me." Leaning backward against the suite door, Tyler folded his arms under his large breasts. "Don't tell me you're still 'observing' me," he said. "I'm always observing you. You're the thing most worth observing on the entire station." "I bet you say that to all the girls." Connie gave Tyler a sly look. "We're way past the initial flirtation stage, Violet. Enough of you being coy. Now let's see you walk in that dress." Tyler smiled one more time at Connie, peeled himself off of the door, and began to walk down the hallway toward the elevator. Heel to toe, short steps... with his left leg constantly exposed to open air from his rhinestone-studded shoes to the top of his shapely thigh. He still hadn't quite gotten used to that slit up the left side of his sapphire blue gown, same as he hadn't gotten used to the matching four-inch heels. But he tried not to concentrate on it too much as he heard Connie coming up behind him, watching him as he moved. He knew he was exciting her and it made him that much more confident in his ability to wear this dress, walk in these heels, inhabit this body, be the Violet Taylor that Connie wanted him to be... the Violet Taylor she thought he was. ***** Tyler and Connie earned scores of attention as they walked through the lobby of Pyramid Suites. Men stared lustfully, women stared enviously, employees of the hotel stopped in their tracks and watched the two women in ravishing formalwear glide across the floor. Pyramid Suites was a fancy place, and both the clientele and the staff were used to seeing high-class people sauntering around in the lobby, yet the visions of Tyler and Connie still caused everyone to pause and take notice. Tyler took a moderate amount of pride in the knowledge that most of the people were staring at him, rather than at Connie... not that he was in competition with her to see who could garner the most attention. Maybe there was competition between women, though, when it came to moments like this. There certainly was an underlying competition among men at formal events, like homecoming or weddings, typically centered around who could bring the hottest date with him... and who could seal the deal afterward in a nearby hotel room. The focus on those events was always on the women - deservedly so, since they were more of a visual treat than the men were. Connie had been right about men and what they wore: pretty much the same thing, every day, all the time, with slight tweaks here and there depending on the occasion and level of formality. All the men at a formal event wore the same general thing - a suit, and there weren't too many notable differences between one suit and another. Dresses, on the other hand... the number of differences was enormous, and Tyler could pick out a dozen just by looking back and forth a couple times between his gown and Connie's gown. Type of fabric, amount of fabric used, length, cleavage shown, straps or no straps, rear zip or side zip or no zip at all, whether the skirt hung downward or poofed outward, color, detailing... the list went on and on. Connie and Tyler were both wearing formal gowns suitable for the symphony, but that's where the similarities ended. So maybe there was an underlying competition here, one that Tyler was starting to appreciate as he and Connie exited Pyramid Suites and walked into the 20th floor's main foyer. It was a competition to see who could wear their gown better, walk in it better, look sexier or more glamorous. Who could blow the most people's minds with the way they looked and carried themselves. This was an unusual feeling for Tyler, who had never been the center of attention and, to a large degree, had made a career of being so instantly forgettable. The new circumstances made him slightly uncomfortable but that discomfort was overshadowed by the thrill he felt at being able to turn so many heads just by his presence. He looked over his shoulder at Connie, making sure she was still behind him... and also wondering where he was supposed to go, now that the two of them had left the hotel and were in the foyer. The symphony hall was on the other end of the foyer, but Tyler knew they would be having dinner first before the concert started. He wasn't sure how to proceed. "Left," Connie said, as if reading his mind. She pointed a green-painted fingertip at a small French bistro a few doors down from the massive symphony hall spindle. Tyler began his gait again, striding purposefully toward the bistro on his high heels, unconsciously wagging his shapely ass under his form-fitting gown as his left leg continued showing itself off to anyone who cared to look. And there were many, many people in the 20th floor foyer who cared to look, and all of them had very attentive eyes, and Tyler could feel them taking in every inch of his elegantly- dressed body.