Welcome To Saturn Beta - Part 16 free porn video

"Oh, hell yes," Renee said upon seeing the clothing herself. She rose from her seat and went over to the rack, where she took one of the dreaded garments in her hands and examined it. "Mmm-mmm, I love a good corset. They always make me look thick in all the right places. Good call by the AG&M boys." "Indeed," Jackson said, noticing Tyler's dismay and completely ignoring it. "The clock is ticking, ladies. Suit up and let's get out there on time. Is anyone out of business cards?" "No, ma'am," the chorus of girls replied. Everyone began picking their clothes off the rack and out of the boxes, checking for appropriate sizes before returning to their vanities and getting to work. Tyler allowed the rest of the girls to have their pick while he set about putting the hot rollers into his hair... or trying to. He turned around and mimicked what Amber was doing with her own set of rollers - spraying the hair first, rolling individual sections of hair into the warm cylinders, pinning them down with a bobby pin, then repeating the process. Many minutes later, Tyler's hair was full of plastic and metal, which he covered once again with the hairspray at his vanity. Satisfied that he had copied Amber's motions to the best of his abilities, he looked over at Jackson for some kind of encouragement that he had done everything right. She saw him, looked at the mess of hair and hardware on top of his head, smiled slightly, and nodded. That was good enough for Tyler, who felt a swell of pride at getting a satisfactory result on his first ever attempt. There was no avoiding what he had to do next, though, and he stood up to face the music. There was only one corset left on the clothing rack. He took it in his hands, feeling the stiff exterior brocade fabric and running his fingers over the firm, unforgiving steel boning within. The corset was black in color and an overbust fashion, with enough material at the top to cover his currently-exposed boobs. The laces on the back of the corset were tied loosely. Tyler undid the knot in the laces and unfastened the hook-and-eye catches on the busk. He then wrapped the garment around his waist, covering his areolae with the top of the corset. The satin lining inside felt gentle on his breasts and skin as he began doing the catches up again. Soon the corset was properly put together, and Tyler caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror at his vanity. The corset covered his torso from just above his nipples and tapered out just above his shapely hips. It didn't feel too tight on his body... but then again, the laces along his spine hadn't been tightened yet. Six elastic suspenders hung down from the bottom of the corset, three on each side, tickling the tops of his legs as he tried to decide how to proceed from here. He looked over at Renee, hoping for a clue on what to do next, and saw that she had taken her panties off completely as she rolled a new pair of nylon stockings up her long, dark legs. Tyler grabbed a package of nylons from the box and returned to his vanity, where he alternated watching what Renee was doing and attempting to do it himself. First, to his minor chagrin, he pulled his panties down and off his legs. Nobody in the dressing room paid him any special attention after doing this, which he was grateful for. He then bunched up the first stocking into a donut shape and then rolled it up his left leg, careful to not pull too hard as he passed over his shin and knee. The smooth fabric of the nylon gave Tyler a slight chill in his leg... these stockings had a different feel to them than the fishnets he had worn during the first lounge event, and Tyler loved the sensation of having his leg wrapped entirely in the thin, sheer hosiery. It not only felt good - it looked fantastic, too. The dark color of the nylon made his leg look even sexier than normal. He had some difficulty getting the suspenders fixed at the top of the stocking. The fishnets that came with the French maid outfit had contained some adhesive at the top, which allowed Tyler to affix them to the tops of his thighs and then forget about them, but this was trickier. Tyler eventually snapped the three clips into place at the top of his stocking - one in front, one on the side of his leg, and one in the back which gave him much more trouble that the first two. He repeated the procedure on his right leg until both stockings were on and all six suspenders were properly attached. "Hey, Violet," Renee said once Tyler was done with his stockings. She pointed a thumb over her shoulder and down her back. "Wanna do me up?" "Um," Tyler said, looking at the thick laces on the back of Renee's corset. "Sure. I don't know how, though. I've never..." Renee rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we all know the story, little miss Martian. You've never worn anything girly before. Christ. Look, it's not tough. Just grab and pull, basically. You do me and then I'll do you. C'mon." Tyler swallowed nervously and stood up, clad only in his loosened corset and stockings, with nothing covering his pussy and ass. He felt completely awkward and exposed, even though the rest of the girls - including Renee herself - were in similar states of undress. Standing behind Renee and fingering the loosest ends of the laces, he looked at her in the mirror, hoping for some more specific guidance. "Grab the long ones," Renee said. "The ones dangling down the... yup, you got it. Pull those first. Go ahead." Tyler did what was asked of him, slowly, not wanting to hurt Renee. He pulled all the slack out of the laces from the top of the corset to the bottom until he could see the tension between the laces and the eyelets that held them in place, like a rubber band that had been pulled outward. Satisfied, he began tying the laces into a knot. "Violet," Renee said, cocking her head in an annoyed manner. "You gotta pull the shit out of them. Come on. Really get in there. Tighten it up. Close the gap. Don't stop until the panels in the back are touching each other." Renee raised her arms, reaching for the ceiling, which caused the corset to loosen around her torso. Tyler looked at the lacing and thought it would be impossible to pull them in as much as Renee wanted... and he shuddered to think what it would feel like when Renee got her hands on his own corset and began yanking his laces. He took a deep breath and went back to work on Renee's corset, addressing each lace and eyelet individually until the black brocade panels did, indeed, close the gap created by the laces. It took several minutes, and Tyler was encouraged on by Renee's approving nods. She grunted a few times during the ordeal, but always followed each grunt with an order for Tyler to keep going, until at last he had pulled every inch of lace from between the panels and given one last yank on the two long loops in his hands. He tied the laces off with a double knot, and Renee lowered her arms. "Ahh. Holy shit," she said, placing both hands on her minimized waist. She patted the black corset down, feeling the stiff fabric as it lay atop her tummy, sides, and breasts. She then turned to the mirror and checked herself out, clad only in the corset, suspenders, and stockings. "Nice work. All right, Violet. You're up." Without asking permission or giving warning, Renee moved behind Tyler and gripped his corset's laces in her hands. Tyler looked straight ahead at his mirror and tried to distract himself from what was about to happen to him. He saw the other girls in the reflection, getting dressed and sorting out their hair and makeup. Gritting his teeth, he raised his arms in the air like he'd seen Renee do and waited for the painful inevitability to follow. Renee started from the middle where the laces were the loosest, pulling them backward and nearly pulling Tyler over with them. Tyler steadied himself on his stocking feet so as not to be yanked over by Renee's work behind him. Soon the laces had been pulled in a significant amount, causing the corset to mold around Tyler's body, hugging him in an embrace of stiff fabric and steel boning. His breasts had been pushed together and upward, creating an enticing cleavage. This honestly wasn't too bad, now that he was finally experiencing it. Clearly all those period-piece movies had made too big a deal out of nothing. Tyler lowered his arms and felt the black silk wrapped around his torso. It was a pleasant feeling, albeit a slightly confining one. Nothing he couldn't handle. "What're you doing?" Renee asked, looking at Tyler's reflection in the mirror. "Um," Tyler stammered. "I don't know. Putting my dress on? Or do you think I should do my makeup first?" "Violet, girl, we're not done with the corset yet. Not even close. Arms up." Tyler groaned, resigned, and lifted his arms again. He knew it had been too easy... Renee laid a forearm against the small of Tyler's back, threaded her fingers through the bottom laces on the corset, and yanked. Tyler felt pulled backwards slightly, but Renee's arm kept him from going too far. His lower tummy, however, felt like it was being forced painfully inward from all directions. Tyler gasped from the sensation and tried to keep his composure as Renee moved upward on the lacing, pulling Tyler's stomach in tighter, inch by inch. Once she had reached the middle of the corset, she moved her fingers all the way to the top and began her efforts again. The first yank compressed Tyler's breasts even more, causing them to mash against his ribcage beneath the small overbust cups. Then Renee began to move lower along the line of laces, making Tyler feel like his ribs were going to snap at any moment. He tried to breathe the shock away, but the dreaded corset wouldn't even let him do that. It was as if the corset had reduced the size of his lungs by half. All Tyler could do was close his eyes and endure the procedure as Renee finally reached the middle again. She pulled all the remaining slack out of the long loops in the middle, gave one final flourishing yank, and tied everything off into a bow behind Tyler's back. "Okay," she said, patting Tyler on the shoulder in a sisterly attempt at comfort. "You can put your arms down now." Tyler was glad to... at first. But lowering his arms caused the corset to feel that much tighter around him, that much more painful... and that much more difficult to breathe. His breathing had now been restricted to short, shallow puffs, only enough to keep him from fainting. His compressed bosom rose and fell with each tiny breath. He patted his hands all over the corset, as if hoping to find a release valve or an air hole. He turned around so he could look at the back of his corset in the mirror. Renee had trussed him up expertly, the slack in the laces wrapped up in a low-hanging bow, the panels of the corset so close together that you couldn't fit a fingernail between them. Tyler turned around again and looked at himself in the mirror. The corset had done quite a number on his form, molding his chest, waist, and upper hips into an attractive hourglass shape. He placed his hands on his reduced waist, amazed that Renee and the corset she wielded were able to shrink it so much. He tried not to think too much about the agony the corset was inflicting on him... but then he did focus on it, and he found that it wasn't as bad as he had feared. Still painful, still confining, still not allowing him to take anything but the tiniest of breaths... but not too bad. Nothing he couldn't live with for however long the saloon event lasted. Satisfied with her work on Tyler's corset, Renee left his side and continued getting ready. Tyler went on to the next part of the dress-up process, and the next, and the next, while watching what everyone else was doing in order to get things right on his own outfit. He found a pair of light purple, ruffled panties in the box and slid them up his stockings and over his pussy, now finally understanding why all the Ringed Amusements girls had stripped them off before putting on their stockings - it would have been impossible to take his panties off if he'd worn them underneath, and that wouldn't have ended well if Tyler found himself in need of a restroom break during the event. After the panties came the saloon girl dress. Tyler was the last one to take a dress off the rack, and the only remaining color was the light purple one, which was just fine by him. He lowered the dress and stepped into it, unable to bend at the waist like he was accustomed to, thanks to the constrictive nature of the corset. He eventually got it up and settled the thin straps over his shoulders, then put his hands behind his back to pull up the zipper over his corset laces. The dress seemed as loose as a burlap sack over his body compared to the tightness of the corset, but looking in the mirror showed him that the bodice was just as form-fitting as anything else he'd worn since he started working at Ringed Amusements. Black lace edging accented the light purple satin of the dress. The top accentuated Tyler's new curves, wrapping around his pressed-together chest and barely hiding the top of the corset underneath. The tops of Tyler's breasts were still on full, enticing display. Further down, the dress fitted snugly across his newly-minimized frame - Tyler ran his hands all around his waist, still in disbelief that his tummy had been taken in so much. The bodice expanded again over Tyler's hips before settling into the skirt, which was high in the front and low in the back - behind Tyler, the thin, pastel purple fabric hung halfway down his calves, brushing against the nylon just above his ankles; but in front, there was very little left to the imagination. The portion of the skirt covering Tyler's privates was about the same length as the AG&M-branded minidress he'd worn at the convention today, and it allowed anyone and everyone to have a look at his suspender clips and the tops of his stockings. He yanked down on the lace in front of his nethers, knowing full well that it wouldn't help his modesty. Looking around the room, he saw that all the other girls' dresses behaved the same way... long in back, short in front, stocking tops exposed. He sighed, resigned, and plopped down in front of his vanity again. The corset dug into his sides as he lowered himself. "Oof," he said, holding his sides through the filmy purple fabric. He looked over at Renee, who was clad in her own yellow saloon dress, identical to Tyler's in every way besides color and size. "How the hell do you enjoy wearing these things?" "What things?" she asked, staring intently into her mirror as she applied some lipstick. "Corsets," Tyler clarified. "God, I feel like it's trying to kill me." "It kind of is. Those things'll mess up your insides if you wear them for too long." Tyler sneered. "So maybe we shouldn't be wearing them." "Maybe you should get going on your makeup, girl." She looked at Tyler through the reflection of her mirror. "Time's running out. Hurry up before Jackson gets pissed at you." Tyler turned away from Renee and toward his vanity. In front of him were countless tubes, cases, compacts, brushes, pencils, and other implements of beautification. Tyler tentatively picked up a bright red lipstick container and drew it across his lower lip - this was the easiest part of applying makeup for him, and also the one he was most experienced in, and it raised his mood slightly when he finished both lips with nary a smudge in sight. Then he moved onto the next part of the routine, and the next, addressing his eyelids, lashes, cheekbones, forehead, brows, and the rest of it. He watched some of the other girls to make sure he was doing everything right. Renee gave him a couple pointers, too, explaining in detail the look they were going for with the saloon event - sultry, dramatic, slightly over-the-top. "So long as you don't look like a reject from clown college," Renee said, as Tyler applied some blusher to the tops of his breasts, per her suggestion, "you should be in good shape. Not enough makeup is always better than too much. You really never did your makeup before coming out here?" "Never," Tyler said sheepishly. "Not much use for makeup in a mining colony." "Well, you've got a lot to learn, then." She stood before Tyler, examining his work while he looked hopefully back at her. "Not bad. Maybe do a little more with your eyeshadow. Other than that, not bad. Good job, Violet." Tyler smiled a bit and put the blusher brush back on the vanity counter. "Thanks. I aim to please." "Fifteen minutes, ladies!" rang out through the dressing room. Jackson's voice. "Get those last touches on. Showtime's in fifteen minutes. Not twenty, not seventeen..." "Not fifteen minutes and one second," Renee said under her breath. "We know, we know. Christ." Tyler snickered and looked around the room, trying to determine what the other girls had done that he hadn't gotten around to yet. Accessories were the most obvious thing he noticed, so he went back to the boxes in the middle of the room and dug around for whatever the others hadn't snatched up yet. Eventually he found some diamond and pearl earrings, along with a simple single-strand ribbon choker with a large pearl accenting the center. Most of the girls were wearing gloves, too - elbow-length, fingerless gloves made in the same black lace as the edging throughout their dresses, accented with an attractive leaf-and- floral pattern. Tyler found a pair of these in the box and decided that he probably should put them on, as well. He didn't want to be the odd man, or woman, out. In went the earrings, around the neck went the choker, and on went the gloves. Tyler found the gloves in particular to be somewhat pointless... though no more pointless than the rest of what women did to make themselves look pretty. He had to admit, after threading his middle finger into the safety loop and pulling the gloves over his forearms, that they looked great on him (and the other girls!) and added an extra aspect of sexy allure to the saloon girl outfits. They felt nice, too... tight fabric over a part of his body that wasn't usually clothed, contrasting sharply with the bareness of his upper arms, shoulders, and the top of his chest. Then on went the shoes - simple three inch pumps, nothing Tyler couldn't handle with ease after the last few days of walking around in heels - and then he was back to the vanity to take care of his hair. He unpinned the hot rollers, causing his long auburn locks to cascade around his face in a tantalizing array of old-timey curls. Tyler showered his head in hairspray once again, copying what the other girls had done with their own hair. Renee arrived at his side a moment later and handed him one of the hair clips he had noticed earlier, this one adorned with a large feather that matched the color of his dress. "Make sure it sticks up," Renee advised. She pointed at her own hair, which had a yellow feather in it, positioned vertically. Tyler studied Renee's hair for a moment before sliding his hair clip in, fastening it closed, and adjusting it in the mirror until it looked roughly the same as Renee's. He hoped it wouldn't fall out. Then again, if those massive, heavy platinum pins hadn't fallen out during the doggystyle escapade he had with Connie last night, he doubted a single feather would move around too much from a few hours of serving drinks. From the front of the dressing room, Tyler heard Jackson's voice over the din. "One minute!" she said between another pair of yawns. "Finish up, quick!" Tyler smiled inwardly. He was ready, on time, and looking quite fantastic. The saloon girl costume, in all its restrictive, titillating splendor, looked amazing on his body. His hair looked great, and the feather sticking out the back proved an attractive fascinator. His makeup was dramatic without being obnoxious. His legs looked stunning, atop the heels, encased in dark nylon. The tops of his thighs were teased with stretched suspenders, which provided Tyler with a delightful tugging sensation every time he took a step. He moved away from his vanity, toward the front of the room, where Jackson was waiting for him in a forest-green dress with a flower pinned to her sausage-curled hair. She inspected him up and down, then up again, then down again, presumably looking for something she could criticize him about. After a moment, she just nodded and smirked. "Very good, Violet," she said, folding her gloved forearms under her corset-restrained breasts. "Appropriate choice of color for your dress, by the way." Tyler looked down at the pale purple of the saloon dress. "What do you mean?" "It's violet. Textbook, dictionary-definition violet. And it looks very flattering on you." "Oh," Tyler said. "Uh... thanks." "You're welcome. And good job getting ready quickly. If only the rest of my girls appreciated urgency as much as you do... ladies! Thirty seconds! Up from your mirrors and over here, now!" The troops obeyed, lining up behind Jackson, Tyler, and Renee, who lead the flock from the front. Tyler leaned to the side and looked back at the other girls, searching for Amber, who he found bringing up the rear. She still had a despondent look about her, no matter how hard she tried to hide it with her usual bubbly self. Tyler offered her an encouraging smile. Amber couldn't return it. God, he wished he could help her feel better... but that would have to wait. Now it was time for Tyler to do his job - the job Jackson hired him for, just to keep the boss lady happy; but also the job he had given himself: that of pulling some valuable information out of one Ben Rosenthal. Jackson ushered her employees out of the dressing room, into the event, where a chorus of boisterous whistling and hollering greeted them. Men crowded around high tables and sat at cushioned booths, staring expectantly at their waitresses. This was the same room that the lounge event had taken place in, days ago, and it had been modified tremendously, dressed up to look like a real, old-west saloon. Every surface had been redone with wood and distressed iron, making the whole room look almost dingy. The bartenders behind the bar were all men that Tyler recognized from the company... one of the security guards who held watch over the little room in front of Jackson's office, plus a couple guys from the printing press. They wore starched white shirts, well-tailored vests, bowler hats, and handlebar mustaches - Tyler couldn't help wonder if those mustaches were costume props or if Jackson had done her magic with the nanobots to create the genuine article. Did the guys in the printing press have nanobots swimming around their bodies, the same way the girls on the 48th floor did? Tyler wanted to know. He'd have to ask Paul, next time he was around... and then Paul stood up from behind the bar, holding a drying towel in one hand and a beer mug in the other, sporting his own ridiculous mustache. Tyler laughed as he paraded along with the rest of the girls through the commotion of staring, thirsty, targeted investors. Paul noticed Tyler looking at his face, rolled his eyes jokingly, and brought a hand to his face to give his mustache a cheezy little twist. Tyler laughed more. Jackson stopped the procession and raised her hands, commanding the crowd into silence with that patented glare of hers. A few wolf whistles from the back of the room constituted the only noise, but these too were shushed. Tyler stood in line with his fellow Ringed Amusements employees, in front of the gathered investors, with hands folded over the short front section of his skirt. The male investors looked at the menu of waitresses with hungry eyes. The females... well, either they weren't interested or were pretending not to be. "We want to thank you," Jackson said in that authoritative voice of hers, "for coming out tonight. And we'd like to thank the wonderful people at Associated Gas & Mineral for inviting you all here." A round of applause went up in the crowd. Tyler saw Noah, the senior representative from the AG&M contingent, giving the gathered mass a polite, deferring wave. Evan and Wesley, the junior representatives who had helped out on the convention floor, flanked Noah on either side. They waved as well... though their eyes stayed trained on all the attractive women who had just entered the room. Once the clapping cooled, Jackson continued. "On behalf of Ringed Amusements Company, and certainly on behalf of AG&M, we'd like to invite you to make full use of our little saloon for the evening. Have a wonderful time, and welcome to the wild west. Welcome to Saturn Beta!" A cheering roar followed. Renee clapped her hands, the rest of the girls followed suit, and Tyler decided he'd better clap along, too. Some of the investors found their seats at high tables and low booths, but many of them lingered, standing, wanting to take in the sight of eight impossibly attractive waitresses frocked in stereotypically whorish saloon girl outfits. Tyler was long past feeling embarrassed about this - he was used to it, and he couldn't deny the thrill of feeling wanted. Between and behind the shoulders of other gawking investors, Tyler caught a glimpse of Ben Rosenthal, who had indeed made an appearance at the lounge event, true to his word. Tyler smiled and flickered his fingers in a noncommittal wave. Ben just smiled back. And Tyler went to work. Of course Tyler couldn't just sprint out to Ben Rosenthal right away and begin working his feminine charms on the target - that would have been much too obvious, a rookie move done by scam artists whose eagerness overshadowed their sense. Instead, he stood and waited, waited, waited for the other girls to lay claim to the tables they wanted to serve. Ben's table eventually got picked up by Lola... of course, Lola... but Tyler was able to finagle himself a table nearby. He took drink orders there while constantly providing Ben with brief, flirtatious glances. Then, upon coming back with a small tray full of highball glasses and beer mugs, he made a mock toasting motion toward Ben while setting the drinks down. All Ben could do was smile and laugh, shake his head, and toast back. God damn, Tyler was good at this. He was already a fantastic con man and info broker before he came to Beta, but this new body of his made him even more effective than before. There was a word in his business for this kind of thing - honey pots. Traps laid by attractive women who seduced men in order to scam them later. He had always wondered how successful they were. He'd find out, soon enough... assuming Ben Rosenthal was as interested in Violet Taylor as he seemed. Back and forth Tyler went, tables to bar, bar to tables, dutifully doing his saloon girl gig while figuring out when to pounce on his mark. He was in no hurry - today's event was much more comfortable for him than the lounge event was, lung-crushing corset notwithstanding. He felt more confident about his abilities than ever, found it easier to brush off the lewd remarks of AG&M's less dignified guests, and took immense pleasure in what he was wearing. Thinking of it as if it were a costume helped take the edge off. The dress was sexy and fun, he had to admit, and he was practically becoming addicted to walking around in the underthings he wore. The subtle tension caused by the elastic suspenders as they constantly fought to bring the bottom of the corset and the tops of his stockings together... well, the feeling of it was intriguing, incredible, sensual, something Tyler definitely wouldn't mind experiencing again. Paul, sporting his new mustache, caught on to Tyler's enthusiasm. He leaned forward on the bartop while the other two bartenders got a round of drinks together for one of Tyler's tables. "You seem unusually chipper today," Paul said, arching his eyebrows. "Hmm?" Tyler said. He tried to stop smiling so much. "Oh. Uh, yeah, I'm in a good mood, I suppose." "Any particular reason?" "No, not really. It's just been a good day so far." "Bullshit," interrupted Lola who had just arrived at the bartop with a tray full of empty glasses. "Good day my ass. I've seen what you're doing. Aren't you supposed to be a dyke?" Both Tyler and Paul stared at Lola with piercing eyes. Paul spoke first. "What're you talking about?" "Paul..." Tyler said, lowering his head. Leave it to Lola to complicate everything and ruin a perfectly enjoyable moment. Lola put an elbow on the counter. "Lesbian. Chick who likes other chicks. Heard of them?" "Lola, can you not?" Tyler said. "Can you, like... go away, please? I'm trying to talk to Paul right now." "You're trying to steal my johns, is what you're trying to do. I see you waving at that guy over there." She nodded vaguely in the approximate direction of Ben Rosenthal's table. "I'm not blind. Get your own freelance jobs from your own tables. Leave mine alone." Lola left her tray at the bar and stormed off to help her tables, the back of her dress waving in her wake like a superhero's cape. Tyler rolled his eyes. Paul leaned further forward on the bartop and lowered his voice. "Well, then," he said. "Yeah," Tyler replied, placing his hands on the sides of his corseted waist. "She's had it out for me since I first showed up. I don't know what I did to piss her off so much." "You showed up. That's what did it. Lola tries to put the new girls in their place. She's always been a little... competitive, for lack of a better term." "You can be competitive without being mean." Paul smirked. "Lola can't. She's got that attitude of hers cranked up to maximum at all hours of the day. Don't let it get to you." "I won't." "So," Paul said, standing up straight again. "Lesbian, huh? How's that working out for you?" Tyler looked over his should at Paul, glared at him, and backed away a step as one of the other bartenders placed Tyler's drinks on a tray. Once the tray was filled, Tyler scooped it up, balanced it on one hand, and sharpened his gaze at Paul. "Working out well," Tyler said. "Working out really goddamn well." ***** Off Tyler went to a low booth on the far end of the faux saloon, where he dropped off the drinks and asked the gathered investors if they needed anything else. They answered Tyler with the usual list of uncreative, unoriginal, sleazy comments, which Tyler ignored. Then it was on to the next table, and the next, as the minutes went by and the crowd of hopeful AG&M backers became progressively more drunk. Noah, Wesley, and Evan made the rounds to every table, glad-handing every investor and ensuring everyone was having a good time. Throughout this time, Tyler kept a watchful eye on Amber, making sure she was emotionally stable enough to keep going with the task at hand. She seemed fine. Her usual, bright personality shone through the dark clouds of whatever it was that had been bothering her so much back in their dorm room. Every time they passed each other between the bartop and the tables, Tyler would brush his hand against Amber's arm, checking on her without words. She would smile back, sometimes nodding, indicating that she was fine... for now. Tyler fully expected a full meltdown once the event was over. But he wasn't sure he could wait that long to find out what was bothering her so much... The next time Jackson was nearby and not rushing around, Tyler pulled her off to the side of the room so they could speak in private. Jackson seemed surprised by Tyler's assertiveness. "Yes, Mr. Hillman?" she said, hands placed accusingly on her hips. Tyler looked around to make sure that nobody else had heard what Jackson said. Everyone else in the room was twenty feet away or more, and the room was far too loud. Nobody was in earshot... nobody could hear Jackson refer to Tyler by his previous name. "Hey," Tyler said. "Do you know what Amber's deal is?" "Her deal?" "She's upset about something. I have no idea what." Jackson looked across the saloon at the mass of investors and the Ringed Amusements employees who were serving them. Amber, wearing the standard saloon dress in bubblegum pink, looked cheerfully normal as she laid down one round of drinks and took the next order. But as she left the table and turned toward the bar, her demeanor soured slightly, almost imperceptably. Jackson noticed. "Hmm," Jackson said. "I see what you mean." "I'm worried," Tyler said. "She wouldn't talk to me about it when we were upstairs. Something must be really, really wrong." "I'll bring her in for a talk," Jackson said. She turned to face Tyler again. "Once the event is finished, I mean. How does that sound?" "Sounds good. You can probably help her better than I can." "Oh, don't sell yourself short, Mr. Hillman. You can help her out plenty just by being a good friend to her. Be there for her when she's ready to talk." She lowered her glasses. "So long as she doesn't need to talk while you're in the middle of a freelance job." Tyler laughed openly at this. Jackson gave him a thin smile and then returned to the middle of the saloon, walking slowly through the tables, checking drink levels, appraising her employees, supervising. Occasionally she would pick up an empty glass in each hand and return them to the bar. Helping, but not helping too much, the way an effective boss behaves. Tyler might have found himself admiring her, had this been more of a normal job. She would have been a pretty cool boss if he had taken up the life of a paper-pushing office drone, if they were both in some office building back on Earth. And if she hadn't tricked him into occupying the body of a college-aged supermodel. He stopped daydreaming and went back to the tables. Another order, another tray, another round of inappropriate - though completely appropriate - comments. Another couple glances in the direction of Ben Rosenthal, who seemingly had yet to take his eyes off the gorgeous young auburn-haired girl in the pale purple dress. Tyler figured it was about time to throw the poor guy a bone and actually engage him in some conversation. When Ben's current glass had been drained three-quarters of the way empty, Tyler sauntered over and leaned an elbow against Ben's table. "Hey, cowboy" he said, giving Ben a flirtatious wink. "Looks like you're almost dry on your drink there." "Um, yeah," Ben said nervously. "Almost. Nice dress, by the way." Tyler arched his spine a bit, giving Ben a better view of the exposed, compressed tops of breasts. "Oh, this old thing? Yeah, thanks. It just happened to be what I'd planned on wearing today. How embarrassing that all the other girls would show up wearing matching outfits." Ben laughed openly. "Yeah. What're the odds of that?" "Low. Astronomically low." "I'm glad you finally decided to come over, by the way. That... coworker of yours." Ben pointed a thumb across the saloon, where Lola was working another one of her tables. "She's a bit of a... um..." "She's a cunt," Tyler said. "Let's face the facts. Lola's a grade-A cunt." "Well," Ben said, draining the last of his drink, "that's one way to put it, Violet. I'm not going to disagree with you." "No, really, she is. She's been awful to me since I first came to the station." "And why's that?" Tyler shrugged. "Because she's a cunt." "Okay, well," Ben said as he set his empty glass on the table, "that settles that." "Yup. Can I fill you up? What're you drinking?" "Oh. Right. Uh..." Ben looked oddly at his glass, apparently trying to remember what he just imbibed. "Gin and tonic, please. Heavy on the ice." "You got it," Tyler said with a smile. He left the table and went to the bar once more, putting some extra sway into his gait in case Ben was watching from behind. He asked one of Paul's bartenders for a gin and tonic, extra ice, and brought it back to Ben's table while showing his target as much thigh, suspender, and stocking-top as he could. If he was going to try out the honeypot routine, he was damn set on trying it out in the most exaggerated manner possible. This saloon girl dress was certainly helping in that regard. He confidently strode up to Ben's table, drink in hand and legs on display, and made his next move. "Here you are, kind sir," Tyler said, placing the glass in front of Ben and lifting the empty off the table. "And by the way, I think I'll be free tonight, once this whole thing is over. If, y'know, you're still interested in having me show you around the station." "Oh yeah, definitely. I'm actually free from... babysitting tonight." He raised his new glass of booze at a few of the other tables in the saloon. Tyler recognized a few people at the tables - they were the same investors that had been at the rocket docking that he and Renee had greeted. "This is the last thing that I have to be around for until tomorrow evening. I'll have all the time in the world." Tyler raised his finely-shaped eyebrows. "Well, great! I promise not to keep you out too late." "I'll hold you to that promise," Ben said. The two of them shared a moment of brief silence together as the rest of the crowd raised their collective volume. Tyler congratulated himself on finally, finally setting up some time alone with Ben. Hopefully he could dig some good information out of his target tonight, then report back to Dennis in the morning. He wondered how likely it would be that he'd have a chance to access Ben's phone, too... or at least attempt to access it. Sadly he wouldn't have a puller at his disposal, but there were other ways to get into someone's phone if you were smart enough. Or sneaky enough. Or sexy enough... all three of which currently applied to Tyler in a big way. Tyler heard a minor ruckus developing at the front of the saloon, near the doors. He and Ben both turned to see what was going on, and most of the rest of the attendees turned as well. Tyler saw a man, tall and broad with dark chestnut hair, who he hadn't seen over the course of tonight's event. Tyler was very good at scanning a crowd and remembering faces, and this was one face that Tyler didn't recognize at all. He must have just arrived. And he was standing in front of, and having a very heated discussion with, a young blonde girl wearing a bubblegum-pink saloon dress. Amber. "Oh, fuck," Tyler said. He shivered, feeling in his bones that something terrible was about to happen. "Stop, Isaac!" Amber said, turning away from the newly-arrived man in front of her. "Just stop! Stop it!" She turned away from Isaac and stormed off into the saloon... before she was halted by Isaac reaching out and strongly grabbing her forearm. To the side, Tyler heard the clanking of glasses being dropped behind the bartop. Paul vaulted himself over the counter and took long, purposeful, angry strides toward the man who dared restrain one of his coworkers. Tyler followed in Paul's path through the gathered crowd of people atop his three inch black pumps, and Ben Rosenthal came too, his face a mix of confusion and concern. Behind Tyler and Ben came Jackson, and behind her came a few of the other Ringed Amusements girls. Paul cocked his arm back as he approached Isaac, who had yet to let go of Amber's wrist despite her loud protests. Tyler's eyes widened with the knowledge that Paul was about to knock the shit out of another sleazeball who had become a bit too busy with his hands. Isaac noticed the oncoming assault and finally released his grip, putting both hands into the air in surrender. "Wait, wait, wait!" he said, stepping away from Paul and the flock of gussied-up young ladies behind him. Paul kept his arm raised but stopped moving. "Fuck off, buddy," Paul ordered, pointing a fist at Isaac and a finger at the lounge entrance. "The lady told you to stop. You didn't stop. So get the hell out of..." "Amber," Isaac interrupted. All eyes turned to him, except for Amber's. She was turned away from this Isaac character, arms folded under her corsetted chest, looking more downcast than Tyler had ever seen her. Tyler went over to comfort her. Lola had already appeared at Amber's side, stroking her elbows and giving Isaac a death glare for the history books. "I suggest you leave," Jackson said, worming her way to the front of the commotion. "In fact, it's not a suggestion. You are not welcome at..." "Amber!" Isaac pleaded. And finally, finally, Amber turned around. Isaac smiled at her. Everyone gnashed their teeth back at him. And he lowered himself to one knee. And he reached into his jacket pocket. And before Isaac could extract whatever he had in there, Amber screamed, joyously, so goddamn loud that everyone in the saloon went temporarily deaf. A moment later, as everyone was twisting their pinky fingers in their ears, Isaac presented the contents of a tiny jewelry box to Amber. She looked at the offering and said "yes" over and over again. Amber's trademark abundant joy finally returned to her face, streaked with tears of girlish happiness. Everyone sighed, shook their heads, and started clapping. Paul eventually lowered his fist. ***** The drinks at the saloon night shindig were already free, considering it was a promotional event paid for in its entirety by the generous fellows at AG&M, but Jackson shouted that the next round was on the house and ordered her men behind the bar to pop open every bottle of champagne at their disposal. A fresh cheer went up all around the room, and every girl in a saloon dress threw their arms around Amber and congratulated her on the engagement. Emotions - and hormones - were running high throughout Tyler's coworkers... many of them were crying with joy on Amber's behalf. Tyler himself felt his own eyes going misty, felt his heart flutter with happiness for his friend. When it was Tyler's turn to give his friend a hug, he took the opportunity to whisper in her ear. "Is this why you've been so upset all day?" he asked. "Yeah," Amber said quietly. "Yeah. Long story. Tell you later." "You're okay?" Amber and Tyler finished hugging, and Amber's voice went back to its normal, earsplitting volume. "I'm better than okay. I'm over the moon and back again. Oh my GAWD, y'all," Amber said, wiping tears and mascara from her face with both hands and once. "Oh my god, I'm so happy. Oh, I could just burst right now. So, hey..." She reached behind her and yanked Isaac into the gaggle of Ringed Amusements employees. "This is Isaac. Isaac, this is... well, this is everyone." Isaac waved weakly at everyone nearby, looking as shellshocked as someone who just returned home from war. "Hi." "Hi," said all the girls, Tyler included. "And this here fella who was about to knock your teeth to Neptune is our good friend Paul," Amber said. Paul, whose fist still hadn't unclenched completely, nodded, at Isaac. "Yeah, hi. Sorry about that. Amber looked like she was in trouble, though. Just my reflexes kicking in." "No problem," Isaac said. He stuck his hand out and Paul shook it dutifully. "I should..." Paul said, motioning to the bar. "All these people are gonna start coming up for champagne now. I have a ton of glasses to pour. Nice to meet you." He gave a slight wave to Isaac and Amber, gave Tyler a look that said 'okay, well, THAT sure was interesting,' and retreated to his station behind the bar. Tyler could only shrug. "Much as I hate to break up a joyous occasion," Jackson intoned, "we should all get back to work. I did just offer every available drop of champagne to our guests, after all. Things are about to get incredibly busy. Work first, fun later." Tyler and the other Ringed Amusements girls let out a pained but bemused grumble, irritated at the idea of having to return to the task at hand. Jackson armed herself with her stern, matronly glare and wordlessly convinced all her girls to get back to work. Tyler escorted Ben back to the table they had just come from. "I'll get you a glass of champagne," Tyler said, fiddling with a thin shoulder strap on his dress that had come loose when Amber hugged him. "Nah," Ben said, lifting his new glass of gin and tonic. "I'm all set for now. Take care of everyone else first. Swing back around if there's any left over." "Oh, come on," Tyler said. He reached out and gave Ben's elbow a small, playful nudge. "Let me get you a glass. I'll bet Jackson's about to give a toast to the happy couple." Ben creased his brow. "You can toast with gin. It doesn't have to be champagne." "Okay, well, don't say I didn't offer." Tyler gave Ben one last flirty smile before returning to the bar himself, where Paul and the other bartenders were preparing what appeared to be more than a hundred glasses of bubbly. Tyler filled up a tray, went around to his assigned tables, and encouraged everyone to grab a glass. The other girls did the same, and soon every patron in the saloon had their drinks. There was enough for the girls and the bartenders themselves to have a glass, too. Tyler took up his champagne in a lace-gloved hand and waited for Jackson to speak up with a toast. But it wasn't Jackson who spoke up. It was Lola, the ice queen, summoning a few of the potential investors to lift her up and place her atop one of the high tables in the center of the saloon. She stood there on her heels, giving everyone nearby a fantastic view of everything she had under the abbreviated front section of her royal blue dress. Wolf- whistles went up from every direction; some men stared at the ruffled fabric of her matching blue panties. The few female investors in attendance rolled their eyes. "Hey!" Lola yelled over the din of horndogs in the crowd. "Hey, shut the hell up! Listen! Put your glasses up! I want to propose a toast!" Everyone obeyed. Ben Rosenthal lifted his gin and tonic. Tyler lifted his champagne flute. The two of them looked across the room at each other and smiled. Good, good, Tyler thought to himself... even after everything that had happened in the last few minutes, he still had Ben's full attention. Lola continued: "All right. So I'm not going to say anything mushy or cheezy. What I am gonna say is that I've heard a lot of good things about you, Isaac. And they'd better all be true." "They are!" Amber yelled. The room laughed and applauded. Isaac reached a hand around Amber's reduced waist and pulled her tightly toward him. "Yeah, fine," Lola said. "Whatever. So, a couple of toasts. First, to AG&M, who are being really good sports about us highjacking their event to celebrate our girl Amber getting engaged. Thanks, guys!" Everyone clapped some more. Noah, buried in the crowd and being magnanimous as ever, gave a thumbs-up to Lola and smiled brightly at Amber and Isaac. Tyler observed him carefully... Noah was handling this whole thing perfectly. He was playing the part of the humble businessman, concerned first and foremost with how much his invited guests were enjoying themselves. A lesser man might have gone the attention-whoring jackass route and taking all the attention for himself, demanding that he be the one to propose the toast. Not Noah. He was too collected and experienced to act that way. He just stood there smiling as a few of the saloon night patrons came up and gave his shoulders a friendly shake. "Yeah, there's Noah," Lola said, pointing him out from her perch atop the high table. "There he is. Thanks, Noah. Everyone give him all your money, okay? He's a good guy. Okay, second part of the toast... to Jackson, my boss, who's probably really pissed off at me right now for being so unprofessional. I'd apologize, but I'm honestly not sorry." All the Ringed Amusements employees turned to look at Jackson, wearing her forest-green saloon dress, arms folded under her corset-compressed breasts. She wore an annoyed but understanding smirk. She accepted the light applause from the crowd and from her employees, then gave a queenly wave at Lola for her to continue. "Cool. Thanks, boss," Lola said. At last, she looked over at Amber and Isaac. She lifted her glass higher and everyone in the room followed suit. "Finally, to Amber and Isaac. And I emphasize the word 'finally,' you slow-moving son of a bitch." "Lola, be nice!" Amber said, resting a gentle hand on her fiance's shoulder. Isaac, looking like a deer in headlights, put an arm around Amber and gulped. Lola leaned forward from atop the high table, glaring at Isaac. "You'd better not break her heart, motherfucker, or I'll take the next rocket to Earth and murder you with my own hands." Raucous laughter and shouting went up in the saloon. Some of the girls - Tyler included - placed a hand over their mouths, surprised at Lola being so... forward. Ben and Tyler looked at eachother from across the room with shocked expressions plastered on their faces as the investors around Lola's table gripped her forearms and calves to lower her to the floor again. Everyone went back to business as usual after Lola's speech, save for Amber, who had latched so tightly to Isaac that she couldn't be extracted from his side with a crowbar. Tyler and the girls happily volunteered to pick up the tables Amber had been working in order to give her some quality time with her fiance. Though that quality time was mainly occupied by potential investors coming up to the happy couple, drunkenly congratulating them, and staggering back to the bar for another round. ***** An hour passed, and when the crowd was sufficiently sloshed, Jackson decided to thank everyone for coming and call it a night. Most of the investors made their way to the doors leading to the 5th floor foyer, shaking Noah's hand as they left and promising to definitely give him a call soon so they could buy whatever he was selling. A few investors, though, remained in the saloon. Whoever the other girls had on their arms - they were allowed to stick around. Tyler knew why, of course... the men had expressed interest in booking private appointments with their girls of choice, and had been encouraged by those girls to hang out for a while, have a few more celebratory toasts to the newly-engaged couple, then get on to business later. Lola had made contact with a squeamish-looking middle aged man, who was obviously was entranced with her brash personality and couldn't take his eyes off her. Renee had landed two dates, one drunkenly hanging to her left arm and another one on her right. The other girls had their own men. Apart from the bartenders, the only people in the room without confirmed dates were Jackson and Tyler himself. "Okay," Amber said, looking around at her coworkers' faces after the last of AG&M's other guests had left the saloon. She wrapped her arms around Isaac and hugged him tightly. "Now we can have a REAL party. Paul? You wanna hook us up?" "On it," Paul said. He and the other bartenders began lining up shot glasses along the counter. Renee, Lola, and the other girls began pushing the high tables together in the center of the room, creating a single large table around which everyone could sit. Tyler thought about helping out... But then he panicked. He'd let Ben Rosenthal out of his sight before having the chance to talk to him more, set up a time to get together privately... and finally have a chance to access his phone and his brain. Tyler scanned the room. Ben was nowhere to be found. "Fuck," he said, under his breath. Forgetting himself, and forgetting what he was wearing, Tyler walked quickly toward the doors leading into the foyer. He pushed them open and sauntered forward, desperately hoping to find Ben before he disappeared once again. The heels he wore made it slightly easier to see heads and faces in the mass of people populating the 5th floor foyer, but it was still difficult to pick out individuals. After a minute of craning his head as high as he could get it, he gave up and put his hands on his hips, grumbling to himself. He turned to head back into the lounge-turned-saloon... and there, next to the double doors, stood Ben Rosenthal. He was playing around on his smartphone. "There you are!" Tyler said, relieved. He took a few steps toward Ben and smiled broadly. "Hey. Want to come back in and have a little party with me and the girls? We're still celebrating Amber's..." Ben looked up from his phone, staring at Tyler suspiciously. "What's wrong?" Tyler asked. "Well," Ben said, pocketing his phone in his sport coat, "I just looked you up. Or I tried to. I couldn't find you on the company website." Tyler cocked his head. "What company website?" "Ringed Amusements. The place where you work." Ben took a step away from the lounge doors. "The whorehouse." All the air went out of Tyler's lungs, and it wasn't because of the corset he had on. He closed his eyes and shook his head. This was about to get problematic. Shit, shit, shit... "Honestly, I had no idea," Ben continued. "I thought AG&M had just snapped up a couple pretty girls to do all this... stuff for them over the course of the convention. I didn't realize you and Renee were part of a company." "Ben..." "I didn't think much of it, when all of you girls walked out in your outfits. I still didn't think too much of it when your boss-lady mentioned the name of your company. I figured, maybe it's the name of a modeling agency or something like that. So I didn't dig any further into it until a few minutes ago, when I saw some of your coworkers handing out business cards after the bartender gave the last call for drinks." Ben held up one of those cards now. Lola's. The same card Tyler had been given when he first arrived on the station, ages ago, in a previous life. The face on the card looked back at Tyler with Lola's sultry but bitchy eyes. Tyler sighed. "That's not..." "I'm not looking to pay for your services, Violet. Go show someone else around the station." Ben said. He flicked the business card at Tyler's bounteous chest and wandered off into the foyer, hands tucked into his pockets. Tyler hated, above all things, losing a mark. He had spent too much time and energy flirting with Ben to let him get away now, before ever having a chance at the phone he carried in his coat pocket. Tyler had to get him back, one way or another... "You know why I'm not listed on the company website?" Tyler yelled across the foyer, over the din of bustling people. Ben stopped in his tracks. Tyler started walking away from the saloon, rear skirt fluttering in his wake, suspenders tensing and slacking with every step forward. Ben turned. "No," he said, rolling his eyes. "No, I don't." "Because I'm not for sale," Tyler said, hands placed firmly on his hourglassed waist. "I only work events. I don't do... that other stuff. Lola does. Some of the other girls do. I don't." "Bullshit." "It's true. You can ask my boss if you don't believe me. We have a deal, Jackson and me. She can book me for whatever she wants, so long as she doesn't try to make me do... freelance work. I made that deal with her on my first day at the company. Plus, we have these rules. And the first one says that I never have to do anything that I don't want to do. Rule #1. That's what we call it." Ben narrowed his eyes, thinking over what Tyler had just told him. He took his phone out of his jacket pocket again, tapping around on it with his thumbs. Tyler remained in place, hands on his womanly hips, waiting for Ben to finish whatever he was doing. Messing around on the Ringed Amusements site, probably. Looking for a way to poke holes in Tyler's story... or perhaps confirm it. Tyler sensed that it was time to call the young Rosenthal to action with another utterly feminine move from his arsenal. Tyler wanted to be tantalizing, mysterious, and intriguing, while ultimately making Ben feel like the decision to stick around or leave was completely his. "I'm telling the truth, Ben. You can believe me or not. Up to you." he said. And just like that, he spun on his three-inch heels and walked back toward the lounge doors. He opened them and rejoined his coworkers at the pushed-together tables in the center of the saloon. Paul was there already with a tray weighed down with shot glasses filled with something brown - rum, maybe, or bourbon. Amber struck Tyler as a bourbon girl. Tyler smiled at everyone upon his return and reached for one of the glasses. One of Renee's dates toasted loudly, slurring his speech as he brought the booze to his lips. Tyler got a whiff of the contents of his own glass - bourbon, indeed - and downed the shot. Burning liquid warmth coursed down his throat and into his compressed stomach. This round of booze was easily the strongest stuff he'd consumed since arriving here on the station... up until now it had just been water, coffee, and wine. And the glass of champagne he'd had after Lola's toast, of course. This bourbon tasted and felt like jet fuel compared to that other stuff. Another round of shots came out - tequila, this time. Paul himself did the toast. "To... uh..." he stammered under his new mustache, trying to think of something poignant. "Well, to Amber and Isaac, obviously. And to Jackson, who's probably furious about her client's event getting ruined." "Not at all," Jackson said, smiling broadly and holding her tequila at eye level. "Noah was clearly pleased with how the event turned out. The AG&M brand put on a good event and a good show. Noah told me himself that he's booked so many private appointments with potential investors tomorrow that his team isn't even going to bother working their booth at the convention center. Trust me, AG&M got exactly what they wanted. The proposal just made everything more memorable." "Memorable. Right," Renee said. "I don't think anyone in the room is going to remember the first thing about this when they wake up tomorrow. They're all too wasted." "I'll drink to that," Tyler said, raising his tequila. The girls giggled, the johns laughed boisterously, and everyone lifted their shot glasses. Tyler was about to down the shot when he caught something moving out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look. There, at the doors leading out into the foyer, stood Ben Rosenthal. Tyler's cat-and-mouse move had worked. Ben had forgiven him for working at a glorified whorehouse in space, and was now officially, firmly wrapped around Tyler's pink-polished finger. Tyler smiled at Ben and waved him over to the tables in the middle of the room. Ben looked around the saloon sheepishly before finally pacing over to Tyler and grabbing a chair. Tyler handed him a shot glass. The rest of the girls and guys at the table were too drunk or too caught up in their own festivities to notice what Tyler and Ben were up to at their own corner of the table. "I'm sorry," Ben said, keeping his voice low. "Nothing to be sorry about," Tyler said, clinking his tiny glass against Ben's. "To simple misunderstandings?" Ben grinned diffidently. "To simple misunderstandings." And they both swallowed their tequila without taking their eyes off each other.