Welcome To Saturn Beta - Part 21 free porn video

Amber had booked them into an ocean-facing room on the 6th floor, with two queen beds, a balcony, and a big closet. The bellhop drone wheeled out of their room once it was done loading up the closet with all of Amber's worldly possessions and all of Tyler's new feminine wardrobe. After it left, Amber and Tyler spread out on their beds, exhausted from the hypersleep. They soon drifted off, still wearing their traveling clothes, until early the next day. Before he knew it, the unmistakable sound of a heavy door opening roused him from his rest. The clock on the bedside table read a quarter past six. "Get up!" Amber said from the doorway. She dropped something on the floor and began flicking the lightswitch up and down, causing the lamps in the hotel room to rapidly turn on and off, over and over again. Tyler groaned and rolled over. "Amber?" he said. "Let's go!" Amber demanded. "C'mon, Violet! Get yourself up! And get dressed, too. Here." Amber dumped a blue paper bag with braided handles at the foot of Tyler's bed. He sat up and looked vaguely down at it. Amber had an identical bag in her left hand, and another armful of bags hanging from her right wrist and elbow. Tyler squinted at her in the annoying brightness of the room. "Have you been shopping?" he asked. "Yup," Amber said, depositing her packages on a bureau near her bed. "At six in the morning?" "Surf shops are open even earlier than that, darlin'. C'mon! Get movin'! You can't possibly still be feelin' weird from the hypersleep." Tyler begged to differ, but he did roll himself out of bed. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he grabbed the bag Amber had given him and placed it on his knees. The first thing he saw inside was a beach towel, white with red stripes. He took it out of the bag and looked deeper inside, where he found a few triangular bits of soft, thin fabric with tiny straps attached. He pulled it out of the bag and saw it for what it was. His heart raced beneath his D-cup breasts. "It's a bikini," he said, just loud enough for Amber to hear. "It's your size," Amber said. "And your color, too! It's the same light- purple as the saloon girl dress you were wearin' last week. Nice, huh?" Tyler closed his eyes and shook his head. "Amber, I can't wear..." "You sure as hell can. I'm wearin' one too, see?" Amber held up her own bikini, deep red with white polka dots, perhaps even skimpier than the one Tyler had been given. Amber enthusiastically removed her top and her bra while Tyler remained sitting at the foot of his bed, rolling his gift over in his hands. If he put this on, and went out of the hotel... it would easily, without question, be the least clothing he had ever worn in public. "You've never been to the beach, Violet," Amber said, while tying the bikini's upper straps behind her neck. "I ain't been to one in forever. And if you think I'm goin' covered up like a nun, you got another thing comin'. Get movin', okay. I promise you'll enjoy this." Tyler sighed and held both pieces of the bikini in his hands. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad... he knew he'd look unfathomably attractive while wearing it, and the thought filled him with both excitement and dread. "Darlin', you need to understand somethin'," Amber said, as she began taking off her jeans. "This is what girls wear to the beach. It ain't Jackson makin' you wear somethin' crazy to serve drinks on the 5th floor. This is actual, honest-to-god clothing we're talkin' about here. You should be used to wearin' girly stuff by now. You've been wearin' it for the past week. I ain't never seen you wearin' a pair of pants until we got on the rocket!" Tyler lowered the bikini, letting it rest on his denim-covered knees. "Yeah. I guess you're right." "'Course I'm right. So let's get you undressed and... aw, dammit!" "What is it?" Amber put her hands on her hips, looking downward. "Well... we might've been asleep for a few days, but our legs weren't. Lookit." She pointed at her bare thighs. Tyler leaned forward to look... and saw the unmistakable signs of hair growth. Not just peach fuzz, either. Amber's legs were definitely a bit on the wild side. Tyler thought for a moment and realized he hadn't shaved his own legs since his date with Ben Rosenthal, when he had worn the little black dress and gone to the jazz club. When Ben had denied Tyler's invitation for sex... Tyler ignored the memory and refocused. Including the time spent in hypersleep on the rocket, it had been well over a week since he had used his laser hair removal kit. He lowered his jeans, looked at his amazing but hairy legs, and sighed. "Not the worst thing in the world," Amber said, running a hand up her left leg. "We probably need to shave everythin' else, too, seein' as how we're wearin' bikinis." "Everything else?" Tyler asked. "Your lady bits, Violet. Don't need any pubes peekin' out of your bikini bottoms." "Oh," Tyler said, as a fresh shudder coursed through his body. He didn't like the idea of having any lasers near his new feminine genitals. Nevertheless, he followed Amber obediently into the bathroom, then sat down next to her on the rim of the bathtub for an impromptu, rushed lesson on how proper ladies take care of their pubic bushes. Amber was more than happy to strip down and give Tyler a full view of what she was doing ("so long as you don't start lezzin' out on me", in her own words) as she used her curved LHR device to trim her mound into something less likely to cause embarrassment on the beach. Soon she was left with a small, triangle-shaped tuft just above her pussy lips. Tyler took up his own LHR device and tried to imitate what Amber had done, being extra careful not to get the blue light too close to his labia. Then the two of them set to work on their legs; and later, their armpits, on Amber's suggestion. Amber gave Tyler a thorough inspection before she allowed him to shower all the leftover hair-dust from his body. She hopped in the shower once Tyler was done, and a minute later, she rejoined Tyler in the bedroom. "Now then," Amber said, standing completely nude before Tyler... who was also completely nude. "Let's suit up. The clock's tickin' and I don't wanna miss out." "Miss out on what?" Tyler said, sliding the bottoms of his bikini up his hairless legs. Once the bottoms were up all the way, the front of them rested snugly over his mostly-hairless crotch while the back slipped partway into his asscrack. This swimsuit wasn't quite a thong, but it toed the line, in Tyler's opinion. "You'll see," Amber said. "Like I told ya earlier, I'm gonna blow your mind if it kills me." Tyler knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he prodded her for more details, so he kept getting dressed in lieu of conversation. After looping the top straps of his bikini top over his neck, he reached around the back to tie the side straps into a bow. It was tricky work, but he got it eventually. As he looked at himself in the full-length mirror near the closet, he saw just how much skin he was about to show to anyone who cared to look. The bottoms barely reached over his wide hips, covering less than an inch of space above his reduced pubic hair. His navel piercing dangled tantalizingly over the stretchy material of his bottoms. The cups of the top held and separated his large breasts, covering the nipples while leaving most of the sides and tops exposed. But as he kept looking in the mirror, he realized Amber was right about what she said earlier. There was nothing scandalous or unusual about what he was wearing right now. This is what girls his age (well, his current age, not his real age) wore when they went out to get some sun, sand, and surf. He had seen hundreds of young women wearing similar bathing attire on the beaches of Miami over the course of his old life... His old life! Tyler had practically forgotten about one of the big reasons he came back to Earth in the first place. He had to get to Dennis as soon as possible, give him the puller, and get rich at the expense of Ben Rosenthal. His pulse jumped as he worked out a way to escape Amber for a while so he could go touch base with his partner in crime. That, though, would have to wait until Amber wasn't so excited, and so intent on doing whatever it was she wanted to do in these bikinis. Amber joined him at the mirror after she had put her own suit on. Hers was on the skimpier, stringier side. She didn't seem to mind, though, as she turned around to examine herself from every angle, smiling at what she saw. "Okay," she said, hugging Tyler from the side and looking at him through the reflection of the mirror. "You get the towels and your purse, and I'll get everythin' else. Let's go out barefoot. It'll be more fun that way." Tyler shrugged. "You're the boss." "And don't you forget it," she joked. She grabbed a couple bags and ushered Tyler out of the room. The hotel lobby was nearly empty, apart from a few people at the breakfast bar. All eyes turned to the extremely attractive pair of scantily-clad females walking through the lobby. Tyler was used to this kind of attention by now, but he knew he was putting on much more of a show than usual. His D-cup breasts bounced heavily in his bikini top as he and Amber hurried outside. "Almost! Almost!" Amber said, picking up her pace. They minced onto the soft sand of the beach. It was still dark out and the shoreline was practically abandoned. A few surfers held their boards, looking out onto the rolling ocean and chatting with each other. They stopped chatting when Amber and Tyler walked past. "Isn't it great?" Amber said, watching Tyler closely, hoping for a reaction. "Sand! The ocean! Real air! C'mon, lay out the towels. I'll get the rest of the setup goin' here. Hurry! Quick! Point the towels at the ocean. Right. Now you sit there, and I'll sit here, and..." Amber leaned away from Tyler and dug into one of her bags. Tyler sat on his towel, bare legs and sparkly pink toenails stretched out before him. Amber eventually produced two red glass bottles and handed one to Tyler. "What's this?" Tyler asked. "Mimosas. Not as good as makin' 'em yourself, but they'll do. And here's breakfast..." Amber placed another one of her bags between the two of them, reached in with one hand, and pulled out a chocolate-frosted croissant. She took a big bite and nodded at the bag, encouraging Tyler to reach in and grab something for himself. Tyler found a large muffin crusted with almonds and pistachios. "And here's these..." Amber continued, reaching into yet another, smaller bag. She handed Tyler a pair of stylish, thin-framed sunglasses, with the price tag still attached - Amber had spent quite a lot on these. He put them on while Amber got out a pair for herself. "And now, we wait," Amber said, staring intently out at the ocean to the east through dark-tinted aviators. They ate in silence for a couple minutes while Tyler tried to figure out what Amber had planned. Amber watched the dark horizon closely, finishing off her croissant in record time and reaching into the bag again for something else. "Careful, Amber," Tyler said, trying to sound friendly and stern at the same time. "Remember what Jackson said. You don't have nanobots stabilizing your weight anymore. You have to watch what you eat." "Yeah, well," Amber moaned. "It's a special occasion. That's my excuse." She pointed her mimosa bottle at Tyler, offering up a toast. "Welcome to Earth, Violet. Enjoy the show." Tyler clinked his bottle against Amber's. "What show?" Amber looked east again. "That one." Tyler followed Amber's eyes. The sun peeked over the waves in the distance, filling the sky with dim yellow light. "Your first real sunrise!" Amber said excitedly. "Bet this looks a lot different on Mars, huh?" "Definitely," he replied, smiling at her enthusiasm. Amber sighed, content. "I haven't seen the sun in... forever, feels like. I'm gonna see it as much as I can from here on out. And I'll be able to watch the sun set over the water every night once we get out to Este Golfo." She turned to look at Tyler. "I'm really glad you came to Earth with me. I know I keep sayin' that, but I mean it. I think you'll have a lot of fun here. You'll get to find out what it really means to be alive." After Amber and Tyler finished their breakfast and mimosas, Amber insisted they lay down on their towels for a while, just to enjoy the sound of the ocean and the warm Miami morning air. Several surfers and other male beach patrons made a point of walking past the two lovely, scantily-clad ladies sunning themselves. Some of them offered friendly hellos, though most just silently sauntered by... and then, after they'd had their fill of the view, they'd turn to their friends and quietly say "holy shit" or "god DAMN" or "I fuckin' love Miami." Tyler couldn't help but laugh at the attention. He had to admit it was fun to be looked at and appreciated, so long as the ogling parties kept their hands to themselves. He would miss it, once he was back in his old, pudgy, thirty-something male body. "I love the beach," Amber said, breaking the silence, twenty minutes after they'd finished eating. "I could just lay here all day." Tyler sensed an opening for making a move away from Amber and toward Dennis, and he decided to take it. "I was thinking about going into the city for a while. It looks so... big. Way bigger than the colony I grew up it. I'd love to just walk around." "Suit yerself. I'm not budgin' from this towel for at least a year. Maybe two." Tyler laughed and stood up. "This was a good idea, Amber. The sunrise was pretty cool. Thanks for doing all the shopping ahead of time." "Oh, you're welcome, darlin'," Amber said as she lowered her aviators. "Did I blow your mind, finally?" "Definitely," Tyler said. He smiled, draped his purse over his shoulder, adjusted the straps on his bikini top, and walked toward the hotel. Once Amber was out of view, he dug into his purse, pulled out his old phone, and scrolled through his messages. The last one he'd sent to Dennis - SENDING SOMETHING YOUR WAY - had finally received a reply after several days: WHEN? Tyler narrowed his eyes at Dennis' message as he rushed up to the sixth floor to get ready. On the way up, he tapped out a one-word reply to Dennis' last message: SOON ***** Tyler had no idea how to dress for this. With his old wardrobe it would have been incredibly easy, but his new wardrobe was a different story. Every stitch of clothing he'd procured during his time on Saturn Beta was either incredibly stylish, formal, or sexy. He had nothing in the way of "casual" clothing... with the possible exception of the red top and black skirt outfit that Amber had set him up with after he'd been transformed. Funny, how he'd found this outfit to be indecent the first time he put it on. He'd feel fine wearing this around Miami today, and it would help him fit in - girls his age, at this time of year, wore very similar outfits. He began going through his luggage and boxes, gathering up the anti- static bags and stuffing them into his burgundy leather purse. He brushed out his hair until it lay steady behind his neck, wondering if the stifling humidity of southern Florida would cause it to act up on him. He put on as little makeup as he could get away with - a little on his eyes, a little on his lips. Any less than that, and he'd look out of place in the stylish, image-conscious area of the city he'd be visiting. He took one last look in the mirror, checking himself from head to toe. Once satisfied, he lowered his new sunglasses over his eyes, took a deep breath, and exited the room. He used his pink phone to call a taxi for himself. The paint job on the taxi turned from yellow to red as he got inside and tapped out an address for the taxi to take him to. Then he was off, into the streets of Miami. During the ride, he mentally prepared himself for seeing Dennis again. Tyler wondered how Dennis would treat him, given the new body he wore. He wondered if he should just come right out and tell Dennis what happened to him (absolutely not, Tyler decided). And lastly, he wondered how to make sure Dennis was at his office to receive the package Tyler had for him. Tyler sure as hell couldn't call Dennis on either of his phones. From his old phone, Dennis would wonder - rightfully - why a girl in her early twenties was in possession of Tyler Hillman's phone, and how she had brought it all the way to Earth with her. If Tyler called from his new phone, its call records would be linked to Dennis; and if something went wrong with the scam Tyler was trying to pull on Ben Rosenthal, Tyler might find himself back in the same situation he was in a few weeks ago... except now it'd be Violet Taylor on the run from the wrath of the Rosenthal family. Tyler Hillman was a relatively off-the-grid individual with a handful of aliases to protect him, but Violet Taylor had friends and contacts that could be squeezed for information. He didn't want to risk that, for his own safety as well as the wellbeing of everyone he cared about on Saturn Beta. There was an easy way out of this, though. Quickly, Tyler took his new, pink phone out of his purse. He tapped around on it for a minute until he found a place he frequented called Ramona's, a coffee shop situated a two-minute walk from Dennis' office, and he sent the new address to the taxi. Soon he arrived at his destination, exited the taxi, and sized up the coffee shop's patio seating and the patrons occupying it. The taxi turned yellow again as it rolled away. Tyler walked into Ramona's, the hem of his skirt tickling his lower thighs, light breeze wafting around his exposed navel piercing. He bought the cheapest cup of coffee available and went out to the patio. Caddy-corner from the patio was an unremarkable gray building, and at street level was the familiar plastiglass security door that lead to a hallway that terminated at Dennis' little two-room office. Tyler found a seat near a table of three young men, all wearing business-casual attire and all pecking purposefully around on their phones. Tyler crossed his legs, lifted his sunglasses to show off his pretty eyes, arched his back, and began sipping his coffee. Minutes passed. The table of young men sneaked glances at the hottie at the table next to theirs, trying to not be too obvious about what they were doing. Tyler took a couple more sips of his coffee before unzipping his purse. He pretended to root around in it, loudly, catching the attention of the young men with minimum effort. Then he sighed dejectedly and zipped his purse up again, acting flustered. He looked around the patio briefly before settling his eyes on the table of young men, then raised himself up from his seat and went over to them, adding a sexy sway as he walked. "Hey," he said, in a flirty voice. One of the young men lowered his sunglasses. "Hey yourself," he said. The two others at the table folded their arms and looked appreciatively at the auburn-haired beauty before them. "Hi," Tyler said, smiling at all three of them. "I don't suppose I could borrow one of your phones for a quick minute. I apparently left mine at home." The three young men couldn't have scrambled any faster to hold out their phones. Tyler took the first one that was offered to him and thanked the young man who handed it over. He pecked at the screen with his pink- polished nails, putting in Dennis' number from memory. Then he leaned against the steel railing of Ramona's patio while the phone rang through, arching his back a bit, giving the young men a better look at his exposed midriff as a way of thanking them... or maybe as a way of getting their hopes up. God, he would never get tired of having such a profound effect on the people around him, men as well as women. There was a cough and a snort on the other end as the call was answered. "Hello?" It was Dennis' voice. He sounded tired... not that Tyler was expecting him to sound different. Dennis wasn't exactly an early riser. "Dennis?" said Tyler, playing dumb. Dennis moaned on the other end. "Who's this?" "It's... Ramona," Tyler said, still not wanting to give up a name - either of his names - over the phone. "I was supposed to come by this morning to drop off that stuff from the property manager. So you could sign it and send it off to the bank." "What... what property manager? What the hell are you talking about? Who is this?" Tyler cleared his throat and tried to sound forceful and serious. "Yes. The property manager." Silence came from the other end, as Dennis continued waking up, coming to his senses... and, at last, getting the hint. There was no property manager. There was no bank. There was, however, a history of messages between Tyler and Dennis regarding a package that would be arriving soon. As the gears turned in Dennis' head, Tyler smiled at the young men that were smiling at him... overblown, almost predatory smiles, but smiles nonetheless. At least they were trying not to be completely obvious about their interest. "Okay," Dennis said on the other end, finally sounding as though he was in the land of the living. "You know where my office is?" "Yup. I'll be right there." He hung up the phone, handed it back to the nice young man to whom it belonged, and reached back to his own table for his coffee and purse. "I appreciate it, guys," Tyler said, lowering his sunglasses again. He shouldered his purse and pushed the patio gate open. "Oh, come the fuck on," said one of the young men said... the one that Tyler had borrowed the phone from. "Hang out for a bit, Ramona. It's Ramona, right?" Tyler smirked at the young man. "Yeah, dude. It's Ramona," he said, nodding at the sign hanging over the coffee shop's door. The young man with the phone turned around, looked at the sign, and then looked back at Tyler. Tyler meanwhile was out the gate and onto the sidewalk already. His skirt swished over his knees as two of the young men began laughing at the third, amused at how thoroughly their friend had just been shot down. Tyler laughed inwardly as he crossed the street. ***** Tyler stood in the dim hallway, knocked on the faded wooden door, and waited. Soon he heard the sound of locks being disengaged, and then the door swung inward. It was very, very weird to look up at Dennis' face. He and Tyler had always been roughly the same height, but now that Tyler was half a foot shorter... well, this was a new experience. Tyler tried not to let it bother him. "Hi," Dennis said, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The t-shirt he wore looked slept in. "C'mon in." "Thanks," Tyler said, trying his hardest not to tip Dennis off to who he actually was. Tyler Hillman talked a lot; Violet Taylor, today, was going to talk as little as possible. Because Violet Taylor didn't know the first damn thing about info brokering, or pullers, or Dennis, or Miami. Violet Taylor was just here to drop off the goods and leave. "So," Dennis said as he ushered Tyler in, "you're obviously new to the game." Tyler walked behind Dennis, then sat down on the other side of the formica desk, holding his skirt behind him as he lowered into the chair. "What game?" "This game," Dennis said, pointing at his desk. "Ramona? Really? You got your alias from the coffee shop that's literally right across the street from my office?" Tyler placed his purse in his lap and rolled his eyes. Yeah, he had a habit of doing stuff like that... after all, he had named his female alter-ego after the color of the dress Amber wore when she came to meet him, in Jackson's exam room, weeks ago. He kept his mouth shut as Dennis began unlocking his various desk drawers. "You have something for me?" Dennis asked. "Yes," Tyler said, unzipping his purse. He took out the five anti-static bags and lined them up atop the desk. Dennis, meanwhile, took his portable dummy terminal out of a drawer and placed it on the side of the desk, rested a tablet next to it, and plugged the two together. He looked grimly at the five bagged, disassembled puller pieces before him. "Hmm. Nice puller," he said, opening the bags and sliding their contents onto the desk. Eventually he found what he was looking for - the tiny data card and its even tinier mounting bracket. He slipped the card out of the bracket, inserted it into the dummy terminal's reader, and tapped a few buttons on the tablet. The terminal made clicking and whirring noises as it worked. "So," Dennis said, as the terminal slaved away, "I'm guessing you met Tyler on the space station?" Tyler paused, then nodded. "Yeah. We work together." Dennis laughed. "I've done some research. I know what Ringed Amusements is about. I know what you girls do... and I really doubt Tyler is in that side of the business. What's he been up to?" Tyler shifted in his seat and looked off to the side, becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Boy oh boy, if only Dennis had known what Tyler had been up to since arriving on Saturn Beta... "Printing press," Tyler lied, recalling the typical duties of the men in Jackson's employ. "There's a printing press on the 5th floor. He works down there with the rest of the guys. And he bartends, sometimes." "And did he explain to you what all this is?" Dennis asked, pointing at the puller fragments on his desk. Tyler shook his head. "No. Not really. I told him I was on my way to Earth, he asked me if I wanted to make some extra money, I said sure. I didn't ask any other questions." "Smart girl," Dennis said, as a readout appeared on the tablet. Tyler paid it no attention. The data analysis part of the job always fell to his partner - Tyler wouldn't have been able to interpret it if his life depended on it. Dennis leaned forward to study the decompressing digital life of Ben Rosenthal as it formed itself into a slightly more readable spreadsheet. "Okay," he said, scanning the rows and columns. "Pretty good haul, here. Right on. Right on." Tyler swelled with pride at a job well done. He crossed his legs and tried not to smile. Dennis scrolled through the sorted data and tapped on a single cell, which expanded into its own sub-spreadsheet. The cells began to populate with understandable data - an email address here, a surname there, a business domain over here... but suddenly, as if a switch was flipped, all the cells blanked out and then repopulated with a single word - NULL. The word appeared in every cell in the sub-spreadsheet, top to bottom and left to right, infinite in all directions. "Shit," Dennis seethed. "Fuck." Tyler's heart sank. Dennis didn't swear very often. This wasn't good. Dennis backed out of the sub-spreadsheet and looked at the top-level data again. It was meaningless hexadecimal code to Tyler, but Dennis studied it like a famous piece of art. "Timescrambled. God dammit," he said. He pressed on another cell, and another, and another... all that did was get him more pages full of the word NULL. Soon he gave up and put his elbows on his desk, dropping his head into his hands. "When's the next time you're going to see Tyler?" "Um... I don't know," Tyler replied. He scrambled to make something up. "A few days, I guess. I'm going back to the station soon. It takes a few days to get there." "Yeah," Dennis said, unimpressed. He turned off his terminal and tablet, extracted the data card from the terminal, and began returning all the puller fragments back to their anti-static sleeves. He wordlessly motioned for Tyler to put everything back into his purse. "Something's wrong?" Tyler said dumbly. He really, really wanted to know what was going through Dennis' head right now. Plus he was trying to distract himself from getting too upset. If the data he'd extracted from Ben Rosenthal's phone was no good... what a total waste of time, energy, and dignity that had been. Tyler had planned so well, and done so much, to get his hands on that data. He had scammed a really nice, really interesting, gentlemanly young man who didn't deserve it. Tyler had even... He had even... He had even prostituted himself. He had let his large tits be suckled on by Ozzie, that slimy guy running that slimy electronics store. Even now, Tyler could still feel the residual, nasty warmth of Ozzie's mouth and tongue on his nipples. He could feel (and taste!) the long girth of Ozzie's cock forcing its way to the back of his throat... the wet, viscous semen lingering over his tongue. Tyler had lowered himself to the level of a cheap whore in order to get his hands on a state-of-the- art puller... And all of it, everything he went through to acquire Ben Rosenthal's data, had been for naught. Tyler wanted to cry... but he couldn't. He had to keep playing aloof and dumb, to keep being Violet Taylor, a mere mule that Tyler Hillman happened to hire. So he just sat there, picking up the disassembled fragments of the puller, while Dennis stewed. "Yeah," Dennis groaned, "yeah, something's wrong." "What happened?" Tyler asked, rezipping his purse. Dennis shook his head. "It's nothing you did, sweetheart." Tyler fidgeted again. He was used to being called feminine terms of endearment, but having one directed at him by Dennis was novel. Tyler had a hard time forming his next words. "Um," he finally said. "Okay. What should I tell Tyler?" Dennis leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "I'll try to keep it simple for you. It's called timescrambling. It's a relatively new form of encryption, designed specifically to counteract pullers. The info Tyler pulled has protection hard-coded inside the individual data clusters. Occasionally, the clusters query the media they're being stored on and the hardware they're being accessed by." He stared at the hexadecimal array again. "Looks like... once every six hours. If the query reports a familiar piece of hardware, the data stays alive and accessible. If the hardware is unfamiliar, though... well, you saw. A whole bunch of garbage all over the screen." Tyler sighed in disappointment. Of course the Rosenthal family would have the latest and greatest protection schemes for securing their data, especially after they nearly got scammed last time, a few weeks ago... by one Tyler Hillman. Ben's father Gordon probably dropped a small fortune to have all their hardware and data loaded up with sophisticated security features. "So here's what you tell Tyler," Dennis continued. "I can disable timescrambling, but only if the data isn't already past the point of no return when I try to access it. Tell him if he wants to try this again, he needs to pull the data and deliver it to me within six hours." "But that's impossible," Tyler said. "I'm... we're way out there in space. There's no way we could get it to you in time." Dennis shrugged. "Well, that's that, then. A-plus for effort, F-minus for results. And a solid D for concept." "What do you mean?" Tyler said, feeling a bit insulted. "Look, Ramona," Dennis said, leaning forward on his desk again. "Keep this between you and me, all right?" Tyler nodded, trying not to get pissed off, knowing full well that Dennis was about to start bad-mouthing him. Dennis sighed loudly. "Tyler needs to pick easier targets. He's always trying to nail people at the absolute top of the food chain. It's nice to land a big fish on occasion... but the bigger the fish, the more likely it's a great white shark. Do you get what I mean?" "I guess," Tyler said, steadying himself. "He used to be good at this. Really, really good. But he's gotten older, and he's gotten cocky, and he thinks the game is as easy now as it was when the two of us started out. He's lost his edge. He needs to act his age." Tyler's forehead creased. "He's not that old." "Older than you by a lot. Older than me, barely. And now he's older than his target, which is never, ever a good idea." Dennis pointed at the terminal. "This kid here, with the scrambled data? Twenty-six years old. Plus, it was a revenge job. Tyler forgot to leave emotion at the door. I don't know what I was thinking when I told him to go for it." Tyler sat and seethed. He had taken shots to his pride before, but not like this. Not from Dennis. He could feel his eyes moistening again... but there was no way he was going to cry. Maybe he hadn't left emotion at the door when deciding to scam Ben Rosenthal, but he would now. Dennis shut off his terminal. "I'll shoot him a message later. He's not going to like what I have to tell him... about the data being unusable. I'm guessing you're going to be his errand girl for as long as he's out there on Saturn Beta, right? See if you can convince him to tone it down a bit. Remember what I told you, and steer him in the right direction." Dennis scanned Tyler's body from head to toe. "You look like you're pretty good at convincing men to do what you want. Am I right?" Tyler grabbed the hem of his skirt and tugged down. "Kind of." "Okay then," Dennis said, standing up from his chair. "That's it for now, then. Unless you'd like to make a little extra money while you're here." Tyler practically rocketed out of his own chair. "I don't think that'd be a good idea," he said, walking briskly to the door. Tyler wouldn't have let Dennis fuck him for all the money in the world... not in any circumstance, especially not after what he'd just said. "It was worth a try," Dennis said. He put his hands in his pockets. "You're right, though. Probably best not to mix business with pleasure." "Probably," Tyler said. He opened the door and went out into the hall without saying goodbye to his oldest friend and partner. ***** Amber had planned one day for hypersleep recovery, and one day only. She wanted to get to Este Golfo as soon as possible... and so did Tyler, after the dressing-down he'd had at Dennis' office. Tyler was more than happy to help Amber pack up quickly when he returned to the hotel. "How was the city?" Amber asked, while she and Tyler loaded up the hotel's luggage drone with their bags and boxes. "It was okay," Tyler said. He was still trying to shake off everything Dennis had said to him... and about him. Funnily enough, dennis had solicited him for sex at the end of their meeting, and that proposition hadn't bothered Tyler nearly as much as the rest of the encounter. It was frustrating, disheartening, and enraging all at once. Tyler wasn't one for having his feelings hurt, but he couldn't help reacting this way. And it wasn't just his new feminine hormones causing it. "Well," Amber said, seeing the disappointment on her friend's face. "Este Golfo is little town. Maybe you'll like it more than Miami." Tyler remained silent through the rest of the packing, and scarcely opened his mouth again until they were in a the taxi, whooshing along a highway that bisected the Everglades. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to talk. Dennis was right about one thing - if Tyler wanted to keep doing info brokering on the side, he was going to have to find new targets to hit. The dream of scamming Ben Rosenthal was over. Tyler wouldn't have another crack at him. He was out of the picture now. Which was fine. Ben was a good guy, despite the unscrupulous family he came from. He had always been kind, gentlemanly, attentive... during their short time together, he had treated Tyler well, which is more than Tyler could say for the rest of the men on Saturn Beta. Most of them looked upon Tyler like a mere object of sex; Ben had treated him like a person. Tyler looked out the window at the swamplands, thinking fondly of his date with Ben at the Chicago 1926 jazz club. The drinks, the music, the dancing, the way Tyler had felt so at home in Ben's presence... until Ben made it awkward by asking Tyler to come live with him. But then their makeout session during the elevator ride had been nice, comforting, and fitting. As was the walk from the elevator to the suite, when Tyler had made the decision to invite Ben into the room for "coffee"... And then Ben had said no, and the entire episode rattled Tyler so much than he ended up on the floor in Connie's suite, crying his eyes out. God, how Tyler had wished Ben had taken up the offer. He still felt a slew of conflicting emotions while thinking about how he had almost, almost, almost had willing sex with a man. "Y'know what you should do?" Amber said, breaking the silence. Tyler turned to her. "Hmm? What?" "Call up Connie! She's on Earth, right? I'll betcha she'd love to see you again. And it's not like she can't afford to fly out to Florida for a visit. Whaddya think?" "Um," Tyler said, folding his hands in his lap. He looked out the window again, forlornly. "I guess I could. She's probably busy." "Well, at the very least, you gotta invite her to the wedding. You need a date, right? Everyone should bring a date to a wedding. It won't be much fun for you otherwise." "I'll have fun. I like weddings." "You'll have more fun if there's somethin' waitin' for you after the reception's done," Amber sang, flaring her eyebrows. "If you get my drift." "You're not subtle," Tyler said, finally cracking a smile. "No, I am not. Call 'er up. I'd like to finally meet her, formally. You hogged her all to herself while she was on Beta." "She was a client, Amber. She was... on business. God, I can't get over how weird it was, the stuff she booked me for. I still can't believe I got paid to do all that." "And I'm still jealous. Wish someone would pay me to go shoppin', and get my nails and hair done, and go to high tea on the 138th floor, and go to the symphony." "Yeah," Tyler said, refraining from mentioning all the things he and Connie did in private. He felt a pulsing warmth in his vagina while remembering the passionate, life-altering sex he and Connie had... both before and after she got her nanosurgically-constructed cock. "Yeah. It was pretty great." "So call her!" Amber encouraged. "It's still a long way to Este Golfo. I won't mind if you make a little phone call in the meantime. It sure beats watchin' you stare out the window, thinkin' about God-knows-what." Tyler grinned at Amber, then unzipped his burgundy leather purse and pulled out his Ringed Amusements tablet. He looked through the client files and, upon finding Connie's contact information, entered her number into his new pink smartphone. Amber looked back at him expectantly as the other end began to ring. The call was answered. "Hello?" Tyler smiled - he recognized this voice. "Connie. Hi." "Yes, hi," Connie said. "Who's this?" "It's... Violet. From Saturn Beta." "Ah ha! Violet! Yes, of course. I thought your voice was familiar. How are you?" "I'm fine. Thanks." "There doesn't seem to be any delay on our call. That's amazing." Tyler laughed a bit. "Not really. I'm not on the station right now. I'm on Earth." "Oh," Connie said, in a way that made her sound almost disappointed. "Yeah," Tyler continued. "So... anyway. I have a friend who's getting married in a few months. And I was wondering if you'd be my plus-one at the wedding." Amber gave Tyler a thumbs-up and a big smile. "Oh, dear," Connie said from the other end of the call. "I'd love to. But... well, Violet, there's no way. I'm afraid I'm otherwise engaged for a while." "Engaged?" Tyler said. Amber's jaw dropped in horror. Tyler covered up the mouthpiece on the phone and whispered to Amber, "Not like that." "God almighty, I should hope not," Amber whispered back. Connie cleared her throat. "Yes. I'm afraid so. I have my project to work on. I'm finding women who haven't been allowed to really be women, just like you, and then helping them out. Allowing them to experience genuine femininity for the first time in their lives." "Huh," Tyler said, as his hopes for more time with Connie drifted away. "And... that's keeping you busy?" "Yes. I'm doing lots of traveling, meeting up with all the subjects I've chosen. I expect I'll be on the move for a year or more." "Can you take a break for a weekend?" Tyler said. He wondered if he was coming off as pathetic, or begging. "Just a few days, for my friend's wedding?" Connie sighed on the other end. "Violet... you're a great girl. I enjoyed our time together. You made my work much more fun than I expected. But it was still work, while I was there with you, on the station. And I take my work seriously. I would love to see you again, but when I'm in the middle of a project, I don't take breaks." Tyler wasn't sure how to respond to that. So he stayed quiet, looked over at Amber, and shook his head. She frowned on Tyler's behalf. "I'm sorry," Connie said, after a few more seconds of silence. "It's okay. I understand," Tyler said, even though he didn't understand at all. Then again, Connie was eccentric as hell, not to mention extremely focused. Unpredictable, too. Weird in general. Which is part of why Tyler liked her so much. "I want to see you again, Violet. Very much," Connie amended. "Just not now." "Sure," Tyler sighed, unable to hide his disappointment any longer. He wondered what Connie would be doing with her "subjects" during this project of hers. If she would just be taking them on shopping trips and salon appointments, or if she'd be doing... other things with them, as well. His heart sank at the thought of Connie in bed with another woman. He didn't expect her to stay chaste for the next time she and Tyler were together, but... still, the thought of Connie moving on, possibly taking other lovers in the future, made him upset. "Do keep in touch," Connie said. "I would like to know what you're up to, and how you're doing. I'm glad you called." "Yeah. Me too," Tyler lied. Jesus, today was just full of disappointment. Tyler longed to crawl into bed and sleep it off... or cry it out. The call ended, and Tyler returned the phone to his purse. And he went right back to staring out the window, watching the swamp go by as the taxi sped down the highway, headed west. Amber didn't pry, and Tyler was glad for it. ***** After a couple of hours, the car dropped them off in front of a group of rowhomes in Este Golfo's tiny downtown. It was a small burgh, just like Amber had hoped. She could barely contain her excitement as Isaac emerged from one of the rowhomes, taking his future bride into his arms, kissing her with little regard for anyone who might be watching. Tyler started unloading boxes and bags from the car, trying not to get envious of the two lovebirds. Eventually they let eachother go and helped Tyler with the luggage. The car drove away after everything had been moved into the rowhome, and Isaac gave Amber and Tyler the dime tour of his place. It was a small home, but bigger than the dorm room at Ringed Amusements, and Amber was thrilled with all the available space. A guest room had been set up on Tyler's behalf; Isaac insisted on moving all of Tyler's things into the room without letting Tyler lift a finger to help. It was what Southern gentlemen did for visiting guests, Amber explained. Especially female guests. "He's a great guy," Amber said, leaning on the doorway and swooning as her future husband lugged everything of Tyler's up the staircase. "He is," Tyler agreed. He brushed down his flounced black skirt - it had ridden up a bit when he brought one of his suitcases into the house. "You're very lucky. He is too, of course." Amber smiled at the compliment. "Sorry about Connie." "Me too," Tyler said. "But I don't want to dwell on it. It's been kind of a tough day, Amber. I just want to forget about all of it." "Yeah," Amber said, frowning. She took Tyler by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. "Well, darlin', you're in a new place now. You can forget about everything." And that's exactly what Tyler did. That evening, the next morning, and for several days after, Tyler aimed to forget... about Connie, Dennis, Ben, the puller (and the dick he sucked to acquire it), Jackson, Miami, Saturn Beta, everything. He took his old black phone and zipped it into an interior pocket in one of his suitcases, along with all the puller parts that he'd yet to reassemble, and stuck the case in the rear corner of Isaac's guest room closet. He tried to enjoy his time with Amber, and she tried to keep him distracted. And distractions abounded, since it was such a busy time for everyone. Isaac was inundated with his work at the desalination plant, and Amber was getting married to him, but he just couldn't dedicate much time to the wedding preparations. Enter Violet Taylor, who Amber had brought along from outer space to help. Tyler had no idea what the hell he was doing, at first, but he helped anyway. He scoured the southwestern edge of Florida for ceremony venues, reception halls, florists, photographers, dress shops, caterers, and all the other countless outside parties who needed to be involved with the big day. He made calls, sent emails, and made in-person visits, sizing up all potential vendors to make sure they weren't trying to put one over on Amber and Isaac with regards to pricing and promises. Violet Taylor, over the course of a couple weeks, became as shrewd of a wedding planner as Tyler Hillman had been an information broker. To him, it all came naturally. He also learned a bit about cooking. He'd been able to feed himself before, but Amber taught him about good Southern food (along with a few "Yankee recipes", which Amber spoke of with reluctant fondness). Assisting Amber in the kitchen was tricky work, but it was also fun, interesting, distracting... and best of all, the results were edible. Tyler got the hang of it with practice, until eventually he was making side dishes and desserts without any help from Amber at all. Isaac reveled in having hot food waiting for him when he got home from work every day, cooked by not one, but two beautiful women who were more than happy to saddle themselves with the responsibility. After dinner, Tyler's guest room proved to be a relaxing space to himself. He'd had very little privacy on Saturn Beta, so he took full advantage of the solitude afforded to him at night. He spent time soaking in the bathtub, caught up on his reading, got plenty of sleep... and, most nights, masturbated. The need for sexual release had hit him hard during his first week back on Earth, and he often fingered himself idly while laying in the tub or hiding under the bedsheets. The fingering would graduate to vigorous clitoral massage, often while recalling the things he'd done while back on the space station. His most-visited fantasy was a mental replay of the breathtaking sex with Connie on the night when she had a nanosurgically-fashioned penis... the way she had pistoned in and out of Tyler's tight cunt from behind, followed by the cowgirl sex later on. Tyler loved that memory... and the pleasure center in his brain clearly loved it, too. By the end of the first few of weeks of wedding planning, Tyler had mastered the art of self-induced female climax, routinely bringing himself to several orgasms per session via both his clitoris and his G-spot. And occasionally, for some reason, he found that his fantasies about Connie would sometimes merge into other fantasies... with other people... specifically, Ben Rosenthal. Tyler would remember the time they had made out furiously in the elevator, with his tongue lashing around inside Ben's mouth, his breasts mashed heavily against Ben's firm chest, his right leg wrapped around Ben's backside. Tyler was usually annoyed with himself any time he climaxed while thinking about Ben, promising to himself never to let it happen again. That promise would be short-lived, though, as the taboo nature of the fantasy often made it that much more exciting, that much more erotic, and that much more likely to push Tyler over the orgasmic edge. ***** It was Amber's idea to have a hard-stop on wedding planning every day at five o'clock, when the sun was a couple hours away from setting. She and Tyler would don their bikinis, put wispy beach dresses over top, take a leisurely stroll down Este Golfo's main street, and end up at the beach for some quality time in the sun. Amber insisted that they both needed a tan before the wedding happened. "Can't Jackson just give me a tan? You know... have the nanobots change the pigment of my skin, or something?" Tyler said, during his second week back on Earth, while he lay on his stomach as Amber slathered his back with lotion. It had been a somewhat productive day - the two of them had booked a cute little chapel for the wedding ceremony, only big enough to hold fifty people at most, which Amber insisted was plenty big. Both her and Isaac's guest lists were limited to only the closest friends and family... and Amber had no family that she wanted to invite. "Probably," Amber replied. "But where's the fun in that? Don't you like layin' out on the beach, gettin' some sun? I mean, I know it's not as appealin' as sittin' around in a climate-controlled Mars habitat all the time..." "Har har," Tyler said. Amber gave him a playful smack on the ass, indicating she was done attending to his back with the sunblock. She then lay on her stomach while Tyler squeezed some sunblock into his hands. "Mmm," Amber moaned as Tyler worked on her back. "Y'know what would be really amazin'? If we were naked right now. Butt-naked, so that we wouldn't have tan lines on account of our bathin' suits. Wouldn't that be fun?" Tyler snickered. "If you say so." "We'll go to a nude beach, someday. You 'n' me 'n' maybe some of the other girls from the station. You'll have the time of your life." She paused for a moment of thought. "God, Violet, I'm so glad you agreed to come to Earth with me. You've been such a huge help already. Thank you." Tyler finished rubbing the sunblock into Amber's lower back. "Don't thank me yet. We haven't nailed down any of the details. Apart from the chapel, you still haven't made any deposits on anything." "Yeah," Amber said, "but we've gotten a lot of researchin' done. I think I'm about ready to start pullin' the trigger on a few things." "Well, good, because you only have six weeks until you walk down the aisle. You're cutting it really, really close. Even someone who isn't a professional wedding planner could tell you that." "You're a professional, now?" Amber giggled. "I'm serious. We need to start carving things into stone." Amber rolled over once Tyler was done with her back. She gazed off into the Gulf of Mexico as the sun drifted downward to the horizon. "There's one other thing we gotta do first." "Um, okay," Tyler said, leaning back on his elbows. "What's that?" "We gotta buy a house." Tyler scoffed. "Isaac already has a house." "Do you 'member when you first came to the station?" Amber asked, turning her head to face Tyler. She had a serious look about her. "When you found out about... what the girls do to make their money. When I told you I didn't turn jobs down very often." "I vaguely remember that," Tyler said. Just about everything that had happened on Saturn Beta was now a distant blur to him... apart from a few notable, unforgettable experiences that would never leave his mind, no matter how long he spent on Earth. A wave of memories came back to him - his dates with Connie, his time working the convention floor in that skimpy little white dress and knee-high boots, the blowjob he willingly performed in Ozzie's office... "I told you I was savin' up for somethin' special. Well... turns out I was savin' up for two things. One was my weddin'... cuz it's not like my parents are gonna pay for it, you know? And the other thing was a house. I've always wanted to own a house. And it's somethin' I wanna do for Isaac... kind of like a weddin' gift from me to him." Tyler lifted his sunglasses to look at her. "A house is a pretty massive wedding gift, Amber." "Well, considerin' how much money Isaac spent on me over the years, I figure I owe him." "Okay," Tyler said, laying back down on his beach towel and looking up at the wispy clouds hanging above the Gulf. "I guess we'll go house shopping." Amber grinned. "I already have. We'll go buy it tomorrow." ***** The house was right on the beach, at the extreme southwestern tip of Este Golfo. It was a plantation-style mansion, much bigger than anything Amber and Isaac could possibly need. Three floors, six bedrooms, eight bathrooms, two studies, an expansive kitchen, a living room with an elaborate fireplace, a detached storage shed off to the side, and all the amenities a fledgling married couple could ever hope to have. It was pre-furnished with sofas, beds, tables, chairs, electronics, and appliances, all extremely high quality and brand new. It was paradise between four walls, with even more paradise outside the sliding back doors. The view of the beach and the Gulf was excellent, whether you were looking at it from the large bay windows of the dining room, while relaxing in the hot tub on the newly-varnished deck, or while sitting on the master bedroom balcony on the second floor. The realtor was annoyed as the two young ladies, fresh-faced enough to still be in college, walked through to examine it. No matter how professionally dressed they were - Tyler in his burnt-orange skirt suit, Amber in a dress and cardigan - nothing could cover up their apparent youth. Amber and Tyler were both much older than their nanodesigned, early-twenties bodies displayed, but the realtor couldn't have known that. As a result, he rushed through the tour of the house, convinced that neither of these young women could possibly afford such a big house in such a great location. He laughed when Amber told him she'd buy it, today, cash up front with no need for a mortgage. He stopped laughing when she showed him the balances in her various bank accounts. "Isn't it great?" Amber said, holding her arms up under the high ceilings of her new home. The realtor exited through the front door, sliding all the signed paperwork into his attache case as he left. Tyler watched him leave with amusement slathered over his face. "It's great, Amber. It's crazy. You don't need a house this big." "Oh, who cares about need. It's what I want. I saw this baby when we were drivin' into town and fell in love... and then when I found out it was up for sale, well, I couldn't help myself. Plus, we'll be able to make use of it right away." Tyler wandered in the breakfast nook, holding his pencil skirt behind him as he sat at a small round table. "What do you mean?" "Ahead of the wedding. You 'n' the other girls from the company need a place to stay, right? Well, we have all the room in the world here. It'll make the day of the weddin' easier, too. We can all get dressed here before the ceremony, cuz it's not like that chapel has a lot of room for gettin' ready." "True," said Tyler. Nothing was going to diminish Amber's enthusiasm for the purchase she'd just made. He was happy to see her so self-satisfied. "Okay," Amber said, placing her hands on her hips triumphantly. "Now we can get around to plannin' the rest of the wedding. I need to..." Just then, a buzzing and ringing noise came from Amber's purse. She stopped talking and went over to the kitchen counter, where she unbuttoned her purse and took out her phone. She swiped around on it for a couple seconds and then began reading aloud. "It's Jackson," she said. "Huh. She's sayin', 'Don't worry about your hair and makeup for the wedding. I'll take care of it. My gift to you.' Well! That's awfully generous of her. Beauticians ain't cheap." "I'm sure she can afford it," Tyler replied. "Yeah. Still, really nice of her! And it means you 'n' me have one less thing we need to worry about. We can check hair 'n' makeup off the list. We're makin' all kinds of progress today!" Having the house bought and the beautician booked, Amber decided that was enough for one day. Tyler rolled his eyes at her cavalier attitude towards her own goddamn wedding... but if she wasn't going to get bent out of shape over it, neither would he. The two of them got an early start on their sunbathing that afternoon. The next morning, Tyler prodded Amber into action immediately after breakfast. Deciding on wedding colors was first in line, as it would determine a lot of the other aspects of the big day. Amber agonized over her choice, and eventually, after several bouts of crying, decided on flamingo pink. "It's appropriate, right?" she said, as she and Tyler passed a color swatch back and forth. "Florida has flamingos, doesn't it?" Tyler smiled and held her hand, trying to make her feel good about her decision. "It doesn't matter if Florida has flamingos, Amber. It matters that you get what you want." "Well, it matters for y'all, too. I don't want my bridesmaids walkin' around wearin' dresses you don't like." "It..." Tyler stammered, trying to register what Amber had just said. "Wait... what? You want me to..." "Of course, Violet!" Amber shouted. "You gotta be one of my bridesmaids! What, you thought I was gonna drag you out here to Earth, make you do all this work for me, and then NOT have you be in the weddin' party?" "I've only known you for a month!" "Yeah? So what. You're one of my best friends. It'd be weird not to have you up there with me when I'm gettin' married. Wouldn't it? You shouldn't be sittin' in the church pews with everyone else. No, no, Violet, I want you as a bridesmaid. Lola's my maid of honor, obviously, but I want you in there, too." Tyler was stunned. He didn't think he had been in Amber's life long enough to be offered an honor like this. And... well, he'd been in weddings before, but as a groomsman. He'd never even considered being on the other side of the pulpit, walking down the aisle ahead of the bride, wearing a color-coordinated gown, holding a bouquet of flowers... and then being escorted after the ceremony by one of Isaac's attendants. This was going to be strange, no matter how long he'd been immersing himself in the female experience and wearing the nubile body of Violet Taylor. But Tyler wasn't about to disappoint his good friend. He settled himself and sighed. "I'd love to, Amber. I'd be honored." "Great!" Amber shrieked. She leaned sideways on the sofa and gave Tyler a tight hug, forcing the air out of his lungs. "So long as you promise to not look prettier than me." Laughing, Tyler wrestled his way out of Amber's clutches. "It's a deal. So long as you don't drop any more big surprises on me." Amber smiled deviously. "One more surprise. Just one, and that's it. Somethin' I have in mind for the bachelorette party. And don't even try to get me to spill the details, cuz I ain't tellin' nobody about my idea. You'll just have to wait and see." "Um, okay..." Tyler said. He had no idea what she was plotting for the bachelorette party... but he wasn't worried so much as he was relieved. It just meant one less thing he had to plan. ***** The next day, Amber made final decisions on the placesettings. Then the photographer, then procuring the marriage license, then the wedding rings, then the hotel ballroom for the reception (along with room reservations for out-of-towners on Isaac's side of the aisle)... the days blurred for Tyler as he and Amber pulled trigger after trigger on all the important details. Just under two weeks before the wedding, Tyler and Amber found themselves in Este Golfo's best bridal boutique, making the final decision on the bridesmaids dresses. They were waiting for Isaac to arrive - he had promised to swing by during his lunch break. There was no rush for him, though, as Amber still was thinking about making one or two modifications to what her attendants would be wearing. And since Tyler was the only attendant present today, he had been volunteered to be a dress dummy. He stood on a short platform while Amber and the boutique owner fussed about him from all sides. Amber had chosen a flamingo-pink, mermaid- style gown for her bridesmaids, and Tyler wore it well. Cap sleeves rested over his shoulders, leaving his arms bare. The gown was backless, showing off his shoulder blades and most of his spine, with a zipper that closed a few inches above the small of his back. A wispy U-shaped sash, hanging from the cap sleeves, framed his upper back attractively while also hiding the zipper's pull tab from view. Up front, a satin bodice with a built-in bra covered his D-cup breasts, hiding his cleavage while leaving his neck and clavicles bare. Underneath the gown, Tyler wore a set of Amber's gifts for her bridesmaids: ultra-sheer nude stockings, pink silk panties, and a pink garter belt. Wearing a garter belt was a new experience that made Tyler feel sexy and elegant. The gown fitted his hourglass figure tightly, though not uncomfortably, from his breasts down to his knees... at which point it flared out into several layers of wavy organza ruffles. Tyler couldn't see his feet no matter which way he twisted or turned, and the boutique owner told him that he'd have to be careful not to trip when walking down the aisle, or when dancing at the reception. She assured him he would be fine, so long as he wore appropriately high heels and took short steps. "I like the bow," Amber said, while standing behind Tyler with the boutique owner. She pinched and tugged at a large butterfly bow suspended just above Tyler's shapely ass, fastened over the zipper by a pair of snap closures. "It's a nice touch, don't you think?" "I do," the owner said. Tyler stared at himself in the mirror while the two women behind him continued their examination. He wasn't a huge fan of the bow - it made him look like he had tiny wings above his hips - but this was Amber's wedding, and he wasn't about to protest aloud. Especially since, apart from the bow, the form-hugging mermaid gown made his feminine body look incredible. It felt great, too, almost like a second skin made of satin. Moving around in it would be a bit of an adventure, but standing still would be easy enough. And that's what bridesmaids were for, after all. Standing around and looking pretty. He knew he'd have just as much fun wearing this dress, on Amber's wedding day, as he had wearing the sapphire-blue evening gown with the long slit up the left leg, on his symphony date with Connie Giordano. He folded his hands over his tummy, ran a finger over the fabric covering his navel piercing, looked at himself in the mirror, and smiled. "Whaddya think, Violet?" Amber asked, letting go of the bow. The owner made herself scarce, retreating through a door on the other side of the boutique. "I love it," he said, reflexively, once the owner was gone. "It looks great." "YOU look great," Amber corrected. A sour expression creased her face. "I think you're gonna end up breakin' that promise you made. About not lookin' prettier than me on my own wedding day. God dammit, Violet. I'm thinkin' I might have to just stick you in a potato sack." "Oh, please," Tyler said, looking away from the mirror, turning carefully on the strappy 3-inch heels he couldn't see, and staring right into Amber's eyes. "I've seen you in your wedding dress. You're going to burn the chapel down." Just then, the store's electronic bell jingled, signaling that someone had come in the front door. Everyone turned to look. It was Isaac, with someone else behind him, hanging up a pair of jackets on a coathook near the door while talking on his phone. Tyler couldn't get a good look at whoever it was. "Hey, you," Amber said, as her fiance approached from the door. The two shared a quick kiss. "Hungry?" "God, yeah," Isaac said, holding his stomach. "I can't remember the last time I actually ate lunch at a decent time." He looked up at Tyler, still standing on the platform. "Hi, Violet." "Hi, Isaac," Tyler said distractedly. He patted at the dress he wore, then put his hands behind his back and picked at the big bow over his rear. Amber hugged Isaac tightly. "They've been workin' you too hard, baby." "Maybe. I brought a fourth along for lunch, by the way. I hope that's not a problem." All eyes turned to the fi