Welcome To Saturn Beta - Part 15 free porn video

The convention center, which occupied the entire 122nd floor, was a tumult of activity. Countless numbers of businessmen and women scampered around in business casual attire as they set up their booths, got their tablet-driven presentations ready, and unpacked heavy shipping containers filled with equipment and giveaways. Tyler stood dumbly in the middle of it all, back leaning against the elevator hub, wondering where to go and what to do first. He remembered his AG&M contact from the day before - Noah, an older guy who seemed goodhearted but ultimately clueless when it came to handling the details of how to handle himself at an event like this. Tyler thought about wandering around the convention to find him. Someone found him first. "Violet," said a familiar voice from Tyler's side. He turned. "Oh, Renee," he said to the statuesque black woman to his right. She had on her trademark skin-tight jeans under a ruffled light purple top, along with a pair of comfy-looking sneakers. "Hi. Good, you're here. I have no idea what I'm doing up here." "Yeah, well, join the club." She leaned against the elevator bank next to Tyler. "God damn. I've worked conventions before, but... man, this is a big one. They must've really found a lot of gas and minerals and shit on that moon. Everybody's lining up to get rich." "How'd your day go yesterday? You told me you were going to be really busy. You said something about having places to be and big, meaty cocks to suck." He smirked at her. "I was busy. I truly was." She turned to face him and smirked back. "Truth be told, doing the booth babe gig today will be a nice break from what I put myself through yesterday. And then we have that saloon thing tonight. And then it's back to the usual grind tomorrow. I'm booked solid for the next three days." "Jesus," Tyler said, reeling at the implication. "Do you ever get... tired of it? All the... uh..." "Sex, Violet. Just say it. Sex. I'm a prostitute. It's all good." "Okay. Yeah. Sex." Renee folded her arms under her breasts and looked out onto the crowds of people on the 122nd floor. "Sometimes, yeah. But anyone can get tired of doing any job, right? It's just a job. I approach it as a job, and I approach it like a professional." "Ah," Tyler said, fingering the fabric of his flowery sundress. "Good old rule number four." Renee shook her head. "It's not about rule number four. It's about me. I'd be professional about it whether Jackson had her rules or not. Hell, I'd be professional about it if I was one of those poor bastards down in the printing press, looking at dials and pulling levers all day. If you have a job, you might as well try to be good at it, know what I mean?" "Sure," Tyler said. "So, speaking of being good at your job, what are we supposed to do right now? Are we meeting Noah somewhere?" "Either him or his booth. And I'm sure he's got a big booth. C'mon, let's walk around a bit until we find something." Renee and Tyler started off into the crowd. Every industry imaginable seemed to be represented here - chemical companies, manufacturing, volatile material transport, and of course all the drilling and mining concerns. Tyler recognized a few company names here and there, but most of the firms at the convention were new to him and some of them represented industries he didn't even know existed. His life as an info broker in the ivory tower parts of Miami had blinded him to these sorts of trades. After a few minutes of walking through dozens of booths representing dozens of companies, Tyler finally found the one he was looking for. "There," he said, pointing at a burnt-orange AG&M banner that was tilted sideways, hanging off a bent plastic pole. Tyler saw the graying head of Noah looking up at the banner, his hands on his hips as if thoroughly frustrated by what he was looking at. "Good eye," Renee said. She and Tyler quickened their pace and came alongside Noah. Renee placed a hand on his shoulder and he jumped a bit. "Oh," he said, holding a hand to his chest. "Ah, it's you. And Violet, too. Good." Tyler smiled at him amicably and professionally, like how he thought Renee would want him to. "Hi, Noah. How can we help?" "Well, let's see... there were some young men from my company who were supposed to help me get this booth set up. Junior sales reps. They came in on another rocket after you ladies left yesterday, and quickly went among the missing..." "Hmm," Renee said. She and Tyler looked at the progress Noah had made on the booth. Several shipping containers hadn't even been unpacked yet, and only one table had been set up inside a floor footprint that was clearly meant to hold three or four. This was a big booth space, in a prime location on the convention center floor... one that cost plenty of money to get. And Noah had been left to his own devices to get the entire thing set up. No way a man of his advanced age could make that happen. Tyler felt a pang of annoyance coursing through his chest. "I suppose we'll just wait for them to arrive," Noah said, sighing. "Not much else that can be done about it." "Mmm, no," Renee said. She shook her head. "No. Not good enough. Let's get it set up now." "Oh, I'm not going to put you ladies to work on this. That's not what the company is paying you for." "Your company is paying us to help you at your booth today, Noah," Renee said, looking at him in a stern but kind way. "That's what we're here for." "Right," Tyler added. Noah smiled and looked at both of them in turn. "Well, that's awfully nice of you. You can help, Renee, but young miss Violet over here certainly isn't dressed for any heavy lifting." Tyler blushed. Noah was right, though... his sundress and wedge heels wouldn't allow him to do any significant manual labor. Bending the wrong way might expose his assets to open air and the gazes of the vast crowd in the vicinity. Renee would be fine in her jeans and sneakers, on the other hand, and she also had a more muscular tone on her body than Tyler had on is. He looked over at Renee helplessly and waited for her to say something. "Here's what we'll do," Renee said. "Noah and I will unpack everything and handle all the heavy stuff. Violet, you go get dressed. By the time you're done, Noah and I should be about finished with the booth. Then I can go get dressed and you can take care of whatever's left. And maybe the junior sales reps will have shown up by then to help." She looked at Noah. "That works for me if it works for you." "It'll do," Noah said. He pointed at a small, tape-sealed box on the floor next to one of the booth tables. "That's the box your company sent up earlier today. I assume your outfits are in there. I haven't had a chance to open it yet." "Not a problem," Renee said. She bent at the waist and lifted the box up, handing it off to Tyler, who was surprised at how light it felt in his arms. Were there really two entire outfits in here? Noah and Renee left Tyler's side and went for the nearest AG&M-branded shipping container behind the partially-constructed booth, leaving Tyler holding the box and staring at the proceedings. Tyler looked around for some signs pointing to a bathroom or changing room. The nearest ladies room was on the outer rim of the convention center floor, and Tyler pointed himself at it and began walking, box in his arms and purse slung over his shoulder. He'd only made it ten steps away from the AG&M booth before Renee ran up from behind him. "Hey, Violet," she said, startling Tyler. "Yeah?" Tyler said. "Hey." Renee came around in front of him and looked at him sternly. "Please tell me you brought some makeup today." "Um..." "Because you didn't wear any yesterday. You can get away with that once, maybe, if you're only facing the client for fifteen minutes. That was the case yesterday, so you got lucky. That's not the case today." Tyler looked down at the purse hanging off his shoulder, remembering the first-aid kit Pierre had assembled for him yesterday evening. "I have..." "And that was also a different kind of work than what we're up to today," Renee interrupted. "A dumb little meet-and-greet at a docking spindle is not the same as doing booth babe work. Clients expect us to be a lot more dramatic. The makeup needs to reflect that. So if you forgot your makeup - again - you need to be straight with me right now so I can have Jackson send some up here for you." "Renee, Jesus, I get it," Tyler said, trying not to get too annoyed. "Yes. I have some makeup. It's in my purse." "And it's appropriate for the work we're doing today? Dramatic and eye- catching, Violet. Not just everyday lip gloss." "It's the same thing I wore to the symphony last night," Tyler said. "Given to me by an absolute expert in makeup. Good enough?" Renee eased off a bit. "Good enough. Glad you came prepared. Okay, you go do your thing, I'll go do mine." She turned quickly and went back to her booth setup project. Tyler started for the ladies room again, rolling his eyes. Renee and her emphasis on professionalism was admirable in many ways, but she sure liked to lord it over Tyler at any given opportunity. Tyler soon reached the rim of the convention center floor and entered the ladies room there. It was a massive room, twenty or so private toilet stalls with twenty sinks in front of a huge mirror. At the mirror were a couple girls in identical tight-fitting red dresses, staring intently at their reflections while working on their makeup. Booth babes for other companies, Tyler guessed. He strode past them and went into a stall on the far end of the bathroom. He set the box down on the toilet seat and cut through the tape with one of his long, manicured pink nails. Opening the flaps of the box, the first thing he noticed were two pairs of tall white boots with long zips above the heel. He took both pairs out of the box to get at the rest of the contents - two tiny jewelry boxes and two flattened white outfits with orange trim, emblazoned with the AG&M logo. Tyler wasn't sure what the outfits consisted of until he pulled one of them out of the box and shifted it around in his hands. It was a short dress with a pleated skirt, made from some slippery-feeling fabric that felt similar to the babydoll Tyler had adorned himself in last night. This dress looked more like something a young woman would wear while playing tennis, not while working the floor at a convention. "Oh well," Tyler said, returning everything to the box for the moment. He stripped out of his sundress and hung it on a hook mounted on the door, then took off his wedges. Clad only in his panties and bra, he slid the booth babe outfit over his head and down his lithe body, over his navel piercing, brushing down the skirt in front and in back after it had settled. The straps and bodice of the dress hid his bra completely, but the skirt barely covered the skin an inch below his feminine crotch. Tyler knew he'd have to be very, very careful with how he moved in this dress... even more careful than he had to be while wearing the French maid outfit a few days ago. There was no room for error if he wanted to hold on to what remained of his modesty. Sitting down on the toilet seat, Tyler went to work on the boots, unzipping them and slipping his tiny feet in before zipping them up to just below his knees. Once again he'd be spending the day in a high heel - he estimated three inches, nothing he couldn't handle. He stood up in his boots, grabbed one of the jewelry boxes, and opened it to find a pair of large hoop earrings made of white gold. Returning to the main part of the bathroom, Tyler saw that the girls in the red dresses had departed, replaced at the mirror by three new girls wearing midriff-baring green tops with matching short-shorts. It seemed every company represented at the convention had a set of booth babes on site to help out. Tyler ignored them and set the cardboard box on the countertop in front of the large mirror, took his pearl earrings out of his lower lobes, and replaced them with the large gold hoops. These new earrings were low-hanging and wide enough to tickle the side of Tyler's neck any time he moved his head. He ignored the sensation for now and placed his purse on the counter, taking out Pierre's first aid kit and psyching himself up for putting on his own makeup for the first time. He started with the miracle-drug foundation, dabbing it lightly over his forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, and anywhere else on his face he could find. After smoothing it in, he began shadowing his eyelids in the way he remembered Pierre doing it. Then came the eyeliner pencil - the most intimidating part of the process for Tyler, who didn't trust his own hands with such a sharp object near his eyes. But he did both his upper and lower lashes on both eyes without incident, then moved on to the mascara. Finally came the lipstick, which Tyler already had some experience with after touching up his lips last night at the bistro. Once done with his makeup, he released the ribbon behind his head and let his long auburn locks cascade over his shoulders. He teased the hair out for a few seconds and was pleasantly surprised with how well it was behaving today - he was accustomed to his hair being frizzy and unkempt. One less thing that he had to worry about today. He stepped back from the counter and looked at his full body, head to toe, in the large bathroom mirror. His hair looked good, his makeup gave a strong impression, and the small dress he wore looked excellent on his slim figure, even though the skirt was shorter and more fluttery than Tyler could be completely comfortable with. He tugged downward on the skirt from the front and the back simultaneously, hoping to lengthen it just half an inch, to no avail. His D-cup breasts strained a bit under the AG&M logo, which Tyler knew was the point... the male investors would be checking out his tits all day long, after all, so the company name had to be there to capitalize on all the staring. The boots were maybe a bit too trashy for his liking, but if this is what AG&M wanted their representatives to look like, so be it. They wanted to grab attention, and they wanted hot women in somewhat slutty outfits to do that for them. Sex sells - that was the old saying, whether the product in question was cars or virtual-reality games or perfume or drilling equipment. And Tyler, along with the other girls from Ringed Amusements, was sex personified. Tyler rubbed his hands together, wondering if he needed to do anything else before heading back onto the convention center floor. He returned to the toilet stall, snatched up his sundress and wedges, placed them in the box along with his purse, and left the ladies room to rejoin Renee and Noah at the booth. He was very conscious of his tiny, light skirt bouncing off his behind as he walked, and he just hoped that his ass and panties weren't on display. When he returned to the booth, Tyler saw two younger men helping Renee and Noah with the booth-building process. The junior sales representatives, finally appearing to do their jobs, squinting in the harsh light of the convention center as they emptied crates and set up the tables. They looked like they were in pain with every motion they made. Tyler couldn't tell if they were nursing hangovers or merely overcoming the aftereffects of hyperspace travel. Tyler caught Renee's eye. "Hey. I'm all set," he said, shaking the box with Renee's matching outfit in it. "Your turn." Renee stopped what she was doing to look Tyler over, head to toe. She scoffed a bit at the shortness of his skirt and the height of the heels on his boots. "No," she said at last, shaking her head. "Not until we're done with the booth. No way can I get a damn thing done in that getup." Tyler opened his mouth to argue, to remind Renee of what they were there for... but he thought better of it. She was clearly in charge of the situation - not to mention, she had been working at Ringed Amusements for much longer than Tyler and had far more experience with these sorts of things than he did. All Tyler could do was place the clothing box on the floor behind the booth, stand there with his hands over his tiny skirt, and look around dumbly while Renee, Noah, and the junior reps continued their labors. "Violet," Renee said after a few seconds of this. Tyler stepped toward her. "Come on, girl. You can start working without me. Get up there, in front of the booth. Put yourself front and center while we finish getting this damn thing done." She nodded toward a small crate filled to the brim with information packets - the same AG&M-branded packets she and Tyler had handed out to the VIP's at yesterday's rocket landing. "Grab an armful of those, too. Hand one over to anyone who stares at your tits for too long." Tyler looked down, at his breasts, which were pushing out the laser- sketched AG&M logo on his dress. He bent over at the knees to grab an armful of packets and followed Renee's order, placing himself in front of the booth and waiting for someone to come by and take notice of him. He wasn't sure how to act while doing this job and wearing the outfit that came with it. Ditzy? Flirty? Was he supposed to elaborate on the advantages of investing with AG&M any time someone took a packet from him? He didn't know a damn thing about the company, other than what the initials stood for. He hoped he wasn't expected to talk much. The commotion of booth setup went on behind him, and a trickle of people did come by, check Tyler's body out, and take a packet from him. They would sift through the packet with mild disinterest while continuing to sneak glances at the buxom auburn-haired vixen in the tiny white dress. This would have bothered Tyler tremendously if it had happened a week ago, but he was used to it by now and took it as a compliment. As long as the men eyeing him weren't bringing their hands into the equation, like the creepy bastard at the lounge event did, Tyler was fine with all the attention. Ten minutes later, Renee stepped away from the booth and scanned her work. Tyler turned around and did the same. Three clothed eight-foot tables, several mounted monitors showing drilling and extraction equipment at work, a few vertical banners, some interactive tablets, and a few other doodads were in their proper place. Renee emitted a satisfied sigh and went behind the tables to retrieve the clothing box. "Good," she said, slinging the box under her long, dark arm. "You keep doing your thing. You let Noah and his boys do their thing. And hopefully everyone's happy by the time the saloon thing starts tonight." "Works for me," Tyler said. "Nice job on the booth. Looks good." "We'll see." And she was off, taking the box with her to the ladies room on the far end of the convention floor, leaving Tyler alone with the AG&M staff and the ever-growing swarm of convention attendees. He looked over his shoulder at Noah, who had taken a seat behind the center table. Noah smiled back and gave Tyler a thumbs-up. Tyler hoped that meant everything was going well so far, and that Noah was pleased with what Tyler was doing. Or maybe Noah just really, really liked the dress Tyler was wearing. The two junior reps came around to the front of the booth and introduced themselves, lightly shaking Tyler's free hand. One was Evan, the other was Wesley, and both were struggling mightily to not spend too much effort looking at Tyler's breasts and legs. They took turns competing for Tyler's attention with pointless small talk - where are you from, how long have you been on the station, let me know if there's anything I can do for you, that kind of shit. Tyler was tired of it almost instantly, but didn't want to upset the day's clients by telling them to buzz off. So he stood there and endured it, if only for the good of Ringed Amusements and his ever-growing reputation as a solid employee. He did look back at Noah after a few minutes, though, signaling to him with his eyes that Evan and Wesley were beginning to overstay their welcome. "Hey, fellas, c'mon back here for a minute," Noah said. He winked at Tyler knowingly and set Evan and Wesley to work on the looping video presentation that ran on the mounted monitors. Tyler, glad for the relative solitude of the front of the booth, rested his thin-skirted behind against the table and gazed out onto the convention center floor, locking eyes with anyone he could and handing out his packets. Several minutes passed as Tyler waited for Renee to rejoin him at the booth. Tyler did a lot of smiling, saying hello, handing out packets, and directing all interested parties to the AG&M men behind him. Many potentially-interested parties lingered around the booth talking about the intricacies of interplantetary mining and extraction, none of which Tyler was educated on and all of which bored him to listen to. He was glad he wasn't expected to know any details about what AG&M did, and extra-glad he could just direct everyone toward the more knowledgeable Noah, Evan, and Wesley. Tyler was more than happy to just stay in front of the booth, showing off his long uncovered legs, jutting out his breasts, making flirtatious come-hither glances at every male convention-goer who crossed his path. It was an easy job, albeit one he certainly wasn't used to doing... and he was getting paid a high sum for his work. That much closer to getting out of this body, heading back to Miami and his old job... A minute later - speaking of his old job - along came a certain individual that Tyler was so happy to see that he couldn't help but wave his hand high in the air. Ben Rosenthal didn't see it at first, as he had his eye on some other booth babes across the way. They were doing the same as Tyler, giving out packets and directing everyone nearby to the presentation being given by their represented company - some company that did something with pipeline sealant, as far as Tyler could tell. They wore logo-branded sports bras and hot pants, similar to the kind of thing Lola wore while stationed on the 48th floor foyer. And they were good-looking, Tyler had to admit... though not as good- looking as him. He mustered up all his feminine wiles and waved once more in Ben's direction, leaning to the side as far as he could without exposing his panties under the tiny, fluttery skirt he wore. And Ben saw him at last. "Oh," Ben said, turning away from the pipe-sealant booth, much to the chagrin of the girls who had exerted so much effort to get his attention. One of the girls at that booth gave Tyler a nasty look. Tyler wanted to give it right back to her, but he quickly turned all of his attention to his target. Ben wore a casual blazer, a nice pair of slacks, and a loose-fitting shirt with no tie. It was a handsome outfit on him, Tyler had to admit. "Hey, you," Tyler cooed as Ben walked over to the AG&M booth. "Fancy seeing you all the way up here on the 122nd floor." "Yeah," Ben said, smiling wide. "Who would have figured. How are you, Violet?" "Good, good," Tyler said, hugging his packets just below his breasts, trying to make his mammaries look bigger. "Just working, you know?" "Looks like it. Man, you're all over the place, aren't you? Docking spindles, symphonies, convention centers..." Tyler grinned back with his perfect teeth and red-painted lips. "Yup. I'm everywhere, Ben. Keeping busy, that's for sure." "That's a shame," Ben said. "Sounds like you're too busy to ever give me that tour of the station you promised." "Oh, we're still on for that, trust me. Once I actually get some free time." "You're sure about that?" Ben said, folding his arms across his chest. "You didn't seem too thrilled at the idea last night. You looked like you couldn't wait to get away from me." Tyler thought back to the previous night... when he had been wearing his gorgeous blue evening gown, escorting Connie to room 512 at Pyramid Suites, wanting to continue his date with her and unexpectedly encountering his mark, Ben Rosenthal, in the hallway of the hotel. And yes, he remembered being short with Ben, but that was only because Connie was starting to get annoyed, suspicious, jealous... Tyler's relationship with Connie at that moment was the most important thing in the world, and he knew he'd have another chance to get near Ben again. But that was the past, and this was the present, and Ben had become reasonably irked at the way Tyler had treated him in the hallway. Tyler focused his talents and put on his most apologetic voice. "Yeah, about that," he said, looking up into Ben's hazel eyes. "I was kind of busy last night... and stressed out. It wasn't anything personal. I promise." "Hmm," Ben said, in feigned annoyance. "I guess I'll believe you. Just this once." Tyler smiled. "What were you doing all the way down at Pyramid Suites, anyway? Did you have a hot date or something?" "No, no, I'm afraid not. One of my family's other business ventures has a few contacts who came here to possibly set up some kind of deep-space construction, and I had to go shake some hands and pretend to care about..." Ben glanced around at all the booths and people crowding the convention center. He sighed. Tyler looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and slight pity. "What's wrong?" Tyler asked, tempted to reach out and touch Ben's elbow in a gesture of fabricated concern. It might have been too much, too soon, and Tyler decided against it. "Honestly?" Ben said, lowering his voice. "Nothing against you, and nothing against your people behind the booth, but I just don't give a shit about any of this stuff. I already told you, right? About the reason I'm out here? Just supervising other people at other companies while they wander around doing... whatever businessmen do. Keeping them in check, making sure they're everywhere they're supposed to be, making sure my family's investments are paying off. I'm basically a professional tattle-tale." He folded his arms and sighed dramatically again. "Not exactly the most rewarding career in the world." "Hmm," Tyler said. He chose to get clever. "Well, tell you what... let's trade places. I'll walk around the convention and babysit your investments, and you stand here showing off your legs and tits, handing out packets to everyone who stops to ogle you." This line got a sharp laugh from Ben, and Tyler laughed along with him. Evan and Wesley, behind the booth, shot Ben some envious glances. Their awkward flirting hadn't worked at all on Violet Taylor, the booth babe in the tiny white dress, and they were clearly annoyed that some other asshole was having so much success. Noah paid no mind to anyone present. "I think you're much better at your job than I would be," Ben said, firing a triumphant glare back at Evan and Wesley. "I don't have the legs for it." "Oh, that's no excuse," Tyler retorted. "We can get those shaved for you, no problem. I know a great salon on the 20th floor." Weirdly, Tyler became very conscious of his own lack of leg hair after he finished his joke. He reached an idle hand down below the hem of his abbreviated skirt and ran a couple fingers over his thigh. Meanwhile, the mutual flirting between himself and Ben Rosenthal was going well, and Tyler knew he'd be able to move on to extracting some genuinely profitable information from his mark soon enough. Ben was clearly enamored with him. All Tyler needed was to get a few minutes alone with Ben's smartphone. It'd be easy pickings. For now, Tyler just had to keep Ben close to him... which was probably the easiest part of this operation, now that Tyler had a body that every man on Saturn Beta wanted to be close to. "You're coming to AG&M's saloon thing tonight, right?" Tyler said, looking flirtatiously into Ben's eyes and subtly lifting the side of his skirt an inch or two. Ben's eyes widened at the sight of Tyler's upper thigh. "Uh... yeah," he stammered. "Yeah, I'll be there. And then remember, you still owe me a tour around the station. You promised you'd show me around." "I'm still up for it if you are." "I definitely am. Definitely." Ben winked at Tyler, waved halfheartedly at Noah and his junior salesmen, and wandered off into the crowd of the convention center. Tyler lowered his skirt and watched Ben go. Ben had the walk of a confident young professional, the kind you'd see from someone who just closed a big business deal... he was clearly very proud of himself for charming the beautiful young booth babe in the tiny white dress. A moment later, Renee returned to the booth wearing an outfit idetnical to Tyler's, knee-high boots and all. She grabbed her own armful of AG&M packets, and she and Tyler spent the next several hours drawing attention to themselves, passing out information, and directing interested parties to the three men behind the booth tables. Tyler overheard several verbal invitations to the evening's saloon event, which made him wonder how many total guests were going to be there, how many Ringed Amusements girls were going to be on hand to work it, and whether or not he'd have a chance to corner Ben Rosenthal for some good "quality time" together. Tyler knew it would be a slim chance, but he wanted to be adequately prepared for the best scenario, just in case. And he had an idea on where best to prepare himself. ***** Tyler hadn't been to the 73rd floor since his trip to the sports bar with Amber and Zoe, right after they had finished working the lounge event a few days ago. He stepped out of the elevator now, taking in the sight of it once more, remembering what Connie had said earlier about how central floors on Saturn Beta differed from the upper and lower ones. The floors in the middle were the sketchy part of the station. And you couldn't get much more "in the middle" than the 73rd floor. This would be the perfect place to start his search for what he needed. Tyler looked around the 73rd floor while turning atop his wedge heels, which he had put on, along with his flowery white sundress, after the convention work had finished. He was glad to be out of the AG&M micro- dress and back into something more conservative and ladylike... especially since his next move was going to take him to the shadier side of the station. He started walking up and down the many spindles protruding from the foyer, checking the names of the various storefronts and looking for anything that seemed promising. On his way down the third spindle, he finally found what he wanted - a grimy- looking independent electronics store, barely bigger than a standard hotel room and manned by a stubble-faced, college-aged kid who didn't take any notice of Tyler when he walked in. Tyler walked through the narrow aisles of the store, knowing full well that the thing he was after wasn't going to be stocked on any shelves. Once Tyler had delayed long enough not to make himself look too eager, he sauntered up to the counter and leaned forward to give the kid a good look at his massive rack. "Hi," Tyler said, fluttering his mascara-lengthened lashes at the kid. "Help you find something?" the kid said. He rested his elbows on the countertop and looked back at Tyler suspiciously. "Possibly," Tyler said. "What's your name?" The kid sighed. "Ozzie." "Ozzie. Hi. Do you own the place?" "Maybe." "Maybe. Okay, fine. We'll pretend you said yes. How long have you been set up here?" Ozzie shrugged. "I dunno. Couple years, maybe." "Couple years. Okay. Have you ever come across any... specialty items? Stuff that isn't out there on the shelves?" "Look, lady," Ozzie said, rolling his eyes. "You're not the first person to come through here acting like this and asking these kinds of questions. Okay? This is the wild fuckin' west out here. Just tell me what you're trying to tell me." Tyler stood up straight. "I need a puller." "A puller," Ozzie said, like he'd never heard the term before. "Yeah. A puller," Tyler replied, folding his arms under his breasts. "You plug it into someone's smartphone, and it breaks through the security measures and copies everything from the phone's memory to..." "I know what a puller is." Tyler's spirits lifted. "Okay, great. You got one lying around back there?" "Maybe." "I have money," Tyler said, patting the burgundy leather purse slung over his shoulder. Ozzie scoffed. "Everyone on Beta has money." Tyler looked crossly at the kid on the other side of the counter. God, this shit was so annoying... if Tyler had had his wits about him when he was still on Earth, he would have brought a puller with him before boarding the rocket. He had one of them in his junk drawer back in Miami, and Dennis had one in his office. They were easy enough to come by if you had the right connections, but constantly becoming obsolete as new security algorithms entered the smartphone market. Illegal as all hell, too. Potentially less obsolete out here in the wild west, and potentially less illegal, too... which is why Tyler thought he'd be able to snag one without too much trouble. This Ozzie character sure was making things more difficult than they had to be. Tyler decided it was time to turn on his new feminine charm. "So," Tyler said in a soothing, flirtatious voice. "Are you going to sell it to me?" "I ain't selling shit, sister," Ozzie said. "Oh, come on." Tyler rocked his hips back and forth, causing his sundress to flutter across his shins and knees. "Why not?" "Because I know what girls like you do with pullers. Because you're going to get caught, and I don't want your bank account pointing back to my store." "I won't get caught," Tyler said, feeling genuinely insulted. "Sure you won't. Look, I'm not dumb enough to have a transaction like that on my books. If we do this thing, we do it off the record without money involved." He leaned forward on the countertop. "We do a trade instead." Tyler shrugged. "Okay. What kind of trade?" Ozzie merely looked downward, then back up at Tyler. "The oldest kind of trade in the world." Disgust plastered over Tyler's face as he picked up the hint Ozzie was dropping. "No way," he said, gripping his purse tightly and walking out of the store on his wedges. "Absolutely not. Fuck you." "That's the idea," Ozzie quipped, grinning sleazily. Tyler ignored the joke as he made his way out of the spindle and back into the foyer of the 73rd floor. He mashed the elevator call button as hard as he could, again and again, wanting to quickly get far away from Ozzie and the crappy little electronics store. A door opened after a minute or so, and Tyler boarded the elevator in the company of a few other men and women who were heading down. Tyler leaned against the rear corner of the elevator car, arms folded defiantly across his chest, supremely annoyed. Who the fuck did Ozzie think he was, demanding sexual favors in trade for such a common black- market item? Tyler didn't need to stoop so low. He could get a puller somewhere else, probably, and from someone who would negotiate more reasonably over price. And even if he couldn't get his hands on a puller, he was convinced he could still get plenty of good info out of Ben Rosenthal without the need to copy all the data from his phone. It wouldn't be too hard. Right? Tyler sighed and waited impatiently for the 48th floor to come around as the elevator continued its descent. Most of the men in the elevator car snuck glances at Tyler's body during the ride. One man, a tall 40- something with some Indian or Pakistani ancestry in his blood, stared straight forward at the elevator doors and yawned, while holding a canvas duffel bag over his left shoulder; but everyone else gave Tyler a lookover. Tyler was used to it by now, flattered by it in some instances... but right now it bothered him, only because Ozzie had made it so obvious what men were thinking when they looked at Tyler that way. They wanted to get under that pretty dress of his, lower his panties, and have free reign of what they found underneath. Tyler pressed his thighs together and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. ***** Tyler sighed as he walked through the friendly, familiar confines of spindle #7 on the 48th floor. It had felt like a long time since he had been "home," such as it was, and he was glad to be back. It would be good to see the friendly face of Amber again, to sit with her and summarize their recent activities over a cup of coffee or tea. His stomach gurgled a bit - it had been a long time since brunch on the 20th floor with Connie, and working the convention had been a bit of a workout. Maybe he and Amber could have lunch together. Tyler smiled outwardly as he walked through the Ringed Amusements employee dormitory, up the stairs, and toward his and Amber's room. As he leaned forward to grasp the door handle, he heard a blubbering, pitiable sound coming from the other side. Opening the door, he saw the form of Amber on her bed, half-covered in blankets and sobbing hard into her pillow. Her wailing was so loud and all-consuming that she didn't even hear Tyler come in. "Whoa, Amber," Tyler said. He unceremoniously dumped his purse on the floor and walked over to Amber's bed as quickly as his wedge heels would allow him. He knelt at the side of the bed and put a hand on Amber's shoulder, hoping to comfort her a bit. Confusion swept over him - he hadn't the first clue what she was so upset about. He hoped that whatever it was wouldn't have a negative impact on him, too... but in this moment, his concern was completely riveted on his friend, not on himself. Amber shuddered and rolled over to look Tyler in the face. "Oh, Violet," she said through a pause in her tears. Her face was wet and streaked with old makeup. She looked like a train wreck. "I'm here," Tyler said reassuringly as he rubbed Amber's shoulder. "It's okay. Everything's fine." Amber laughed a bit through her sobs. "No it ain't. Not fine at all. Oh, God..." Amber rolled off the bed and joined Tyler on the floor, where the two embraced and Amber cried into Tyler's shoulder. She had on one of her usual sundresses, this time in dark green. Tyler remembered what Amber had said earlier about never getting into bed while wearing your nice clothes... things must have been really, really bad if Amber was violating her own ingrained rules of ladylike Southern etiquette. Tyler wrapped his arms around Amber's body tightly, then began rocking back and forth as his friend wailed and sniffed. He found himself beginning to tear up as well... maybe this is what good girlfriends did for each other when one of them was wracked with sorrows - hugging tightly and crying on the floor together. Tyler just wanted Amber's pain to stop, even though he hadn't the first idea what had caused it. For a brief instant, he felt almost motherly. After several minutes of further emotional meltdown, Amber extracted herself from Tyler's shoulder, dragged her fingers under her eyes to get rid of the tears, and took a few deep, cleansing breaths. Tyler sat back on his ankles, placed his hands over his dress-covered knees, and waited for Amber to say something. "Had a rough morning," Amber said, at last. "One of the worst I've had since leavin' Oakdale." "Okay," Tyler said, looking back at Amber with all the sympathy in his body. "Tell me about it, then. Should I make some coffee?" "No, no, darlin'. I'm already plenty coffee'd up. I must look a fright right now. Didn't even bother takin' off my makeup before I started slobberin' all over myself." "You look fine," Tyler lied. "Uh-huh." Amber wiped her eyes some more and sighed. "Honestly, Violet, and I don't mean anythin' by this, but I really don't wanna talk about it. It's too fresh. It hurts too much." Tyler shrugged. "Okay. We don't have to talk about it. Take your time." "Thanks. You're sweet." "I try," Tyler said, smiling. "Can I make us some lunch, at least? I'm starving." "Best idea I've heard all day. I'll give you a hand, once I'm lookin' less awful. It'll help get my mind off things." Amber and Tyler stood, and Tyler went to the kitchenette while Amber found the nearest mirror and examined her black-streaked face. Tyler set to putting some sandwiches together out of what was available in the dorm room's fridge. Amber found a plastic package of facial wipes in her headboard and started wiping down every inch until she found herself appropriately presentable. "So," Amber said, turning her head left and right as she stared at herself in the mirror. "What did you get up to yesterday? And this mornin'. Haven't seen you in forever, Violet." "It feels like a long time, huh?" Tyler said, placing some pickle slices on a small dish next to the sandwich fixings. "Okay. Let's see. Renee and I went up to greet some people getting off a rocket... for a company called AG&M. Something to do with mining and all that stuff. So we greeted them..." Tyler paused. The name of Ben Rosenthal bounced around in his mind for a second - that disembarking job was when Tyler had seen Ben first, when he had decided to make Ben a target for some good old-fashioned info brokering. "Um," Tyler said, regaining his train of thought. "Then that was over, and I was on my way back to the dorm when I ran into Jackson. She took me out for coffee..." "Oh, no," Amber said. She joined Tyler in the kitchenette and grabbed a handful of napkins. "That can't be good. I'm guessin' she had an ulterior motive for takin' you out for coffee." Tyler shrugged. "Not really. I mean, we did talk about some stuff..." "What kind of stuff?" The surprise meeting with Jackson flashed through Tyler's mind - it had been a difficult conversation to get through, one in which Jackson had verbally backed Tyler into a corner and gotten him to admit that he was enjoying his Ringed Amusements Company employment as a woman much more than he would have been enjoying it as a man. She had complimented him on his looks, his sense of style, his... nail polish. And she had read aloud the sparkling customer review that Connie Giordano had sent over. That had been awkward. Which was the whole point, naturally. Jackson had wanted to soften Tyler on his new lot in life and make him stop resisting the idea that maybe it wasn't all so terrible. She had succeeded completely... and then she had booked his services for Connie again without telling him ahead of time. Tyler looked over at Amber, finally ready to answer her question. "Oh, we just talked about this and that. Work stuff." "Hmm," Amber said, clearly unsatisfied with the vague answer. "Okay. So you had coffee with Jackson. Then?" "Then... well, I had another appointment with Connie." "Oh yeah? Wow. Not bad! Look at you, Miss Violet... first week on the job and gettin' repeat customers already." Tyler smirked. "Yeah. Aren't I the popular one." "So what'd you and Connie do all day?" "Shopping. And then the symphony. The stuff we were going to do earlier that we never got around to during the first time she booked me." Amber's eyes lit up. "Oooh. So she made it up to you, then. That was nice of her. And you got paid for it, to boot." "I did," Tyler said, remembering Jackson's comment from earlier today, when she mentioned that Connie had paid double - double! - for the privelege of yesterday's freelancing job. He still hadn't checked his tablet to verify the amount that had been knocked off his debt to Jackson. He didn't need to, surely... Connie could afford to pay it, after all, and Jackson didn't seem to be the type to lie about the topic of money, even if she wasn't always completely forthcoming with the full truth on other subjects. "How was the shoppin' trip?" Amber asked. "Did you get a lot of pretty stuff?" "I did, yeah," Tyler replied, fondly recalling his time with Connie and Fran at Incantevole. "I wasn't too thrilled with the idea of a big shopping trip at first, but it ended up being kind of fun. Connie sure enjoyed using me as her dress-up doll." "I'm sure she did. And she paid for everything too, I'll bet." "Yup." "God, Violet... you hit the jackpot with her. I mean, really. Gettin' your nails and hair done, havin' high tea, goin' shoppin', the symphony... oh, how was the symphony? Did you get all dressed up?" "Yeah," Tyler said, suddenly excited. "You should see the gown I wore, Amber. It was blue, and it was really sparkly, and it had this slit up the left side that showed my leg off. And the hem went all the way down to my feet, so I had to wear really high heels in order to keep it from dragging along the ground. It wasn't a problem, though. The heels matched the dress. They were all strappy and sparkly, too. And then this guy from the salon came up and did my hair and jewelry. He put these big pins in my hair with these gemstones hanging off of them... and I had some earrings, and a choker with all these long platinum chains and diamonds hanging down to my... breasts. It was crazy, Amber. Oh my god, it was... basically the most amazing thing I've ever worn in my life." Tyler caught his breath. He was shocked at how much he was gushing over the beautiful ensemble he had worn to the symphony last night. He had never spoken so highly of an outfit before, but he had never worn something worth the praise, either. He had a couple nice suits back in Miami, and he had thoroughly enjoyed the feel and flow of the sea-foam green dress he'd worn during his first date with Connie, but those hopelessly paled in comparison to the platinum and sapphire-blue finery that he had been enveloped in last night. He knew he'd be thinking about last night for a long, long time... even once he was back in his default male body. Noticing how Tyler had become starry-eyed, Amber's smile widened. "Sounds wonderful, darlin'. I don't suppose you or Connie took any pictures." Tyler leaned his backside against the kitchenette counter and frowned. "Shoot. No, we didn't. We probably should have. She looked pretty good herself." "Not as good as you, I'll bet." "Well, I don't like to brag..." "Anyway," Amber said, rolling her hands and nodding at Tyler to continue. "Anyway. The symphony was nice," said Tyler, strategically withholding the part where Connie felt him up and fingered him under his gown during the first movement. He shook the memory away and continued. "And then it was over, and that was that." "That was that? Oh, we both know that's horseshit," Amber said, sitting down at the table with her handful of napkins. "Come on, darlin' Give me the rest of it." Tyler played dumb. "The rest of what?" "Did Connie try to get frisky with you?" "Amber... god..." "Yeah, I know, I know. I asked you last time and you weren't in the mood to answer. But, c'mon, Violet. I need some cheerin' up after the mornin' I had. Gimme some dirty talk. Just between us girls." Tyler brought the sandwiches and pickles to the table, set the plates down, held the skirt of his dress behind his butt, and sat down across from Amber. He put his elbow on the table and rested his head in his palm, sighing, slightly annoyed that Amber kept pressing him for details on the more scandalous side of the job. There was no way, absolutely no way in hell that he was going to give full disclosure on what happened last night with Connie and the phallic surprise she had sprung on Tyler after the symphony... but he supposed he could give Amber a little of the juicy stuff if it would make her feel better. It's not like she would make him feel awkward about it. They worked at the same company and had the same job description, after all. Tyler sighed and took a deep breath. "Okay. Yes. She did. We both... tried to get frisky with each other. We'd been teasing each other most of the evening. It was bound to happen." "Okay. All right! Good for you, Violet!" Amber enthused, reaching across the small table and shaking Tyler's shoulder. "Was it good?" Tyler nodded enthusiastically as he remembered every sensation of the previous night. It was all still completely fresh in his mind. "It was good. Really, really good. Best sex I've ever had in my..." He stopped, looked off to the side, and really thought about it. It really had been that good, hadn't it? The flirtatious verbal foreplay during dinner at the bistro; the physical buildup during the symphony as Connie's hand fully explored the benefits of the slit in Tyler's gown; the aching anticipation he felt while holding an all-fours position on Connie's bed, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom; the way he had been made to feel elegant and promiscuous at the same time, during the lovemaking session, wearing his expensive gown and jewelry while presenting his eager pussy to Connie as she railed him from behind; the alien but amazing sensation of having his inner depths filled with hot splashes of semen... no other sexual experience over the course of Tyler's life was even remotely as good as what he went through with Connie, and her temporary penis, last night. And then he had gone back to her for another round soon afterward while wearing the filmy black babydoll, riding her to multiple orgasms while demanding she hold off her own climax until he was ready for it. It hadn't just been good sex. It had been borderline life-altering. "Sorry," Tyler said. He shook his head and rejoined Amber in the preset moment. "But, yes. It was good." "Better than good. Phew," Amber said, fanning herself with a free hand. "Be still my heart. Isn't that the best? When your clients... serve your needs? Some of the johns I get when I go out freelancin' just want to get their rocks off and then walk away. It's really great when you get someone who..." Amber paused, and looked down at her partially-eaten sandwich... and began weeping again. Tyler stood up from the table and went around to her, where he draped his hands over her shoulders, desperately wanting to comfort her. But then her full-body wailing started again, and nothing Tyler did or said could get her to stop. As if to empathize and bond with her, Tyler started crying quietly too... even though he had no idea what he, or Amber, were crying about. ***** Naps followed lunch, as Amber was exhausted from her emotional meltdown and Tyler wanted to rest up before the saloon event later in the evening. Tyler didn't get much sleep - he was constantly rolling over to look at Amber on the other side of the dorm room. She lay there on her side, face splotched with dried tears, murmuring in her sleep. Tyler grew more and more curious about what had caused her to become so upset... and stay so upset for so long. It must have been big. She would tell him in due time, probably, once she had enough time to process and recover from whatever had gone wrong in her life. Hours into naptime, both Tyler's and Amber's purses began vibrating and beeping. Amber rolled over, dangled her feet off the side of her bed, rubbed her eyes open, and wandered across the dorm to her purse which was hung on the coatrack next to the door. She brought Tyler's purse over to the side of his bed. Tyler thanked her quietly as she retreated to her bed and unzipped her bag. "Jackson sent out an alarm, looks like," Amber said, pressing a button on her tablet to make the sound and vibrations stop. "Guess I have a job tonight." "Me too," Tyler said. "This saloon event. The company that Renee and I have been working for is doing a big thing for a bunch of investors that they're trying to..." "AG&M?" Amber interrupted. "Is that them?" Tyler lifted his purse and placed it in his lap. "AG&M, yeah. I was telling you about them earlier." "Well," Amber said, smiling faintly, "that'll be fun, huh? We get to work a job together." "Oh. Good! Yeah, that'll be fun. I didn't know you were working the saloon thing too." "Neither did I," Amber said, returning her tablet to her purse and zipping it closed again. "After I had my... problem earlier today, I told Jackson to just book me for whatever she's needin' help with for the next while." She looked up at Tyler. "It's a good way to get my mind off things. Keepin' busy, you know. It helps." Tyler nodded, unzipped his purse, and silenced his tablet. He looked at the screen and examined the details of the event. Dressing up, serving drinks, etcetera... nothing unusual. He looked between the clock on the dorm room wall and the schedule on his tablet and recognized that he and Amber only had fifteen minutes to make it down to the 5th floor dressing room. "Jesus," he said, looking back and forth between the clock and the tablet, verifying the times. "We should hurry up." Amber stretched her arms and rose from the bed once more. "Yup," she said. "Shoes on. Let's get goin' down there so we don't have a repeat of last time." "Last time?" Tyler asked. "Yeah. Last time. When you 'n' Jackson showed up to the lounge event with ten seconds to spare and I had to babysit you." Amber winked playfully and offered Tyler a hand, then pulled him up from the bed and stuck her feet into a pair of flats that matched the green in her dress. "I don't like havin' to scramble around at those kinds of things. I like to take my time gettin' ready." "Fair enough," Tyler said, strapping himself into his wedges. "And this time," Amber said, putting on a mock-scolding, motherly voice, "you're gonna do your hair yourself. And you're gonna actually put on some makeup for once." "Hey, now," Tyler said, putting his hands on his hips. "I've put makeup on. A couple times." "Well, that's a relief. We'll make a proper lady of you yet. Shall we?" Amber held the door open for Tyler and the two of them stepped out into the dormitory hallway, down the stairs, and into spindle #7. Tyler maintained a conversation with Amber on their way to the elevator, telling her as much as he could remember about AG&M. She didn't need to be particularly well-informed about the company or the people who worked for it, but Tyler wanted to keep the dialogue going so Amber's thoughts wouldn't be allowed to drift. He wanted to keep her engaged, distracted, and happy. Anything to stop her from getting visibly upset again. He hated seeing her like that. They rode down the service elevator and into the 5th floor printing press, where a couple workmen watched them as they walked past, per usual. Amber gave friendly smiles to anyone who paused to look at her, and Tyler did the same. He and Amber reached the wardrobe without incident and waded through the racks of clothing on their way to the dressing room. Upon arriving there, Tyler saw six other women in various stages of undress. Some of the women had only their panties on, some had thin, silky dressing gowns. None had on a bra. Anyone whose hair was long enough had a batch of rollers in, wrapped tightly in hair and sealed with a wide bobby pin. He recognized Lola, the bitchy ice- queen who he thankfully hadn't encountered in the last couple days. Renee was here too, of course, as she and Tyler were the two Ringed Amusements girls who would be at every AG&M function until the end of the convention. Three other girls who Tyler didn't recognize were scattered on the sides of the room, sitting at vanity tables, which were loaded down with all manner of makeup and hairstyling products. The last occupant was Jackson, the boss lady herself, hair adorned with hot rollers and body currently clad only in a pair of lacy black panties with breasts hanging bare for everyone to see. Nobody paid too much attention to her, as they were all rushing around preparing for saloon night. Nobody except Tyler, who couldn't help but be a bit shocked at the appearance of his boss, his part-time tormentor, standing there looking so exposed. She yawned for what must have been the millionth time that day, then looked over at Amber and Tyler while folding her arms under her pronounced nipples. "Well, well," Jackson said, once she was done yawning. "Violet Taylor, showing up to an event early. Wonders never cease." Tyler rolled his eyes. "I've been late to something a grand total of one time, Jackson. The lounge event. First day on the job. Which you sprung on me without warning, if you remember." "I vaguely remember," Jackson said. She winked at Tyler, as if to convey that her previous comment was all in good fun. She nodded at Amber, who weakly nodded back. "Well, get moving. We have a whopping hour and ten minutes until AG&M's guests start arriving. Let's see if you can get into your costume, hair, and makeup before then. Emphasis on makeup, Violet." "I told her the same thing, Jackson," Amber intoned. "We'll get it on her. I can help her out if she needs any helpin' done." "She does," Lola said. Tyler could hear her sneer from across the room. She hadn't gotten any kinder since the last time Tyler ran into her on the 48th floor. "Lola, shut the fuck up," Renee said. She looked at Tyler and shook her head. Tyler smirked back. Apparently he wasn't the only one who was perpetually sick of Lola's attitude. "Rule number four, ladies, if it's not too much to ask," Jackson said with a raised voice. "Professionalism. Do professionals act mean to each other and use vulgar language?" "No, ma'am," said everyone in the dressing room, except for Tyler. He forced away a grin, amused that everyone responded to Jackson as if she were their drill sergeant. Amber, ready to get down to business, left Tyler's side and went over to a vanity on the left wall of the dressing room. She began shrugging out of her sundress. Tyler followed suit at a different vanity, parking himself next to Renee, as far away from Lola as he could get. Soon he was down to just his knickers, breasts free in the open air, like many of the other girls in the room. None of them had made any progress on getting dressed for saloon night since he and Amber arrived, including Renee, who had barely budged. "Hey," Tyler said, pointing himself at the vanity, not particularly wanting everyone else in the room to have full visual access to his large tits. "Why is nobody doing anything? Shouldn't we be getting ready?" "We should," said Renee, under her breath. "Costumes aren't done yet, though. Something went to shit with the printing press. It's fixed now - Paul took care of it - but the boys in the printing press are running behind schedule. So we're running behind schedule, too. It'll be a mad rush to get ourselves ready once our clothes are here." "Oh." She took a glance at Tyler's long, auburn hair. "You should get going on your hot rollers, though. That's something you can do while we're waiting." "Oh. Uh, okay," Tyler said. He scanned the vanity in front of him and found a bank of hot rollers in front of the mirror. He blinked at the rollers and wondered how to get started. Yet another thing he had never learned how to do, for obvious reasons. "Do I... have to? I mean, do I need to do my hair with those? Or can I just..." Renee leaned into Tyler's shoulder, her own rollers shuddering in her hair as she moved. "Yeah, Violet. You have to. It goes with the theme of the event. That's the whole point." "What theme?" Tyler asked. "Saloon." "What does that have to do with..." "Finally," Jackson said, sitting at her own vanity with her legs crossed at the knee, staring at her tablet. Everyone in the room turned to give her attention. "They're done?" Lola said. "They're done," Jackson confirmed. "The boys just delivered everything. Any of you ladies who's decent enough to leave this room, get over to the wardrobe, please. All eight of our costumes should be on a single rack. It might take two or three of you to drag everything back here." Lola, who had a dressing gown on, was the first to leave the room and make her way down to the wardrobe. Two of the other girls followed in her wake. Jackson rose from her seat at her vanity and idly meandered around the room for a minute before she caught a look at Tyler's nearly-nude body in the reflection of his mirror. She stopped dead and looked over with curiosity, causing Tyler a fleeting sensation of embarrassment... and then she came over to him and took his shoulders in her hands. She continued looking at him in the mirror, and he looked right back at her, wondering what the hell she was up to now. Slowly she lowered her head and put her lips an inch from Tyler's left ear. "Mr. Hillman," she whispered, as quietly as possible, so as not to spill Tyler's secret to everyone in the dressing room. "Looking lovely, as always." "Thanks," Tyler grumbled. "But you'll want to remove that little decoration before we get dressed." She nodded toward the mirror, looking downward at Tyler's tummy... where his navel had been pierced. "Shit," Tyler muttered, covering his pink-bejeweled piercing with both hands. It had come to feel so natural there that he had completely forgotten to deal with it while stripping down to his panties a few minutes ago. He had barely even noticed it when he had gotten dressed for the convention floor this morning! He had been careless, so careless... and now Jackson knew about his adorable little modification, one that he had done to himself, willingly, with his own money and on his own time. He had done something tremendously feminine to himself, and Jackson was the first person at Ringed Amusements to find out about it. Jackson, to whom Tyler had reiterated over and over again how much he disliked being a woman and how much he longed to be back in his normal body. Tyler couldn't help but feel a bit humiliated as he fingered the stud at the top of his belly button, loosening the fastener and taking the jewelry out. He held the ring in his palm and wrapped his fingers into a fist around it. "Very good," Jackson whispered again. She stepped away from Tyler's side, stifled another yawn, and returned to her vanity. Tyler shook his head and cursed himself. Of course Jackson would be the first one at Ringed Amusements to see Tyler's navel piercing. Of fucking course. Son of a bitch... Minutes later, Tyler heard the approaching sound of a clothing rack being wheeled slowly toward the dressing room. One of the girls reentered the room holding a big cardboard box, which she loudly dropped on the floor in the middle of the room. Inside the box, Tyler saw several things - jewelry boxes, ruffled panties in several different colors, unopened packages of nylons, hair clips with large synthetic feathers or flowers attached to them, whatnot. Accessories, for lack of a better term. On the other side of the room, Amber clapped her hands together and looked excitedly into the box, clearly pleased by what she saw there, and reached in to grab a few of the items for herself. She really did love playing dress-up for these events. Hopefully the evening would help get her mind off of whatever was bothering her so much. Tyler cheered up a bit at seeing her returning to her normal bubbly self. Then Lola came into the room again, dragging the clothes rack behind her, and Tyler's mood immediately soured again at what he saw on the hangers... at what he would be expected to wear. The front section of the rack held some immodest saloon-girl dresses with black lace edging, the kind Tyler had seen before in movies about the wild west - the real wild west, hundreds of years ago, back in his home country and home planet. The dresses came in all colors of the rainbow; one was deep red, another royal blue, light purple, shocking pink, a dark bronze. There was a yellow one toward the back that reminded Tyler of the cami and tap pants set he had borrowed from Amber to wear to bed. The dresses didn't worry Tyler. What worried him was what came behind the dresses. He had seen these in historical movies, too. Period pieces that took place in the Victorian era, back when a waspish waist was an important thing for proper ladies to strive for. They had always struck Tyler as looking as though they caused all manner of discomfort to the women who had to wear them... and now he would have to wear one, too. No wonder Jackson had advised him t