'Hehehe, just look at him. He’s all embarrassed and doesn’t even know what to say. Oh yeah, I know, I know what it’s like when a sexy bomb like this is talking to you, ' — Tim thought to himself, resting his palm on the hem of the thin dress under the table and arching his back just enough so the deep cut of the floral dress could do its job.
The sunlight in the cozy courtyard of Brick Garden, a small but charming restaurant, lit up the hair of the one the world knew as Maya Carter. Brick walls, green vines, a warm evening. On the table stood a glass of white wine, a phone in a blue case face-down, the umbrella’s shadow keeping her from squinting. The dress stretched over her hips, kept her waist in check, and the breasts… the breasts had their own weight and rhythm, forcing Maya to catch balance with every breath.
Tim didn’t really want to turn into this made-up "Maya," who only existed in virtuality, especially since the device allowed transformations only once a month, and to switch back he had to stay in that form for a whole week. But after weighing all the pros and cons, Tim realized this was the easiest plan that had come to his head. And so far, everything was going just as planned. Because right across from him sat Aaron Blake, twenty-two, an assistant in the machine learning lab and, according to the plan, the key to a project Tim would never get access to otherwise. Aaron had a work laptop with draft versions of the new algorithm’s code, and that was exactly the kind of thing that could turn an ordinary student into a genius in the eyes of the faculty.
But what Maya took for victory wasn’t embarrassment at all. Aaron was simply staring off to the side, and instead of devouring her looks like a victim under hypnosis, he was clearly thinking about something else.
— So… — Maya leaned forward slightly, letting the cut of her dress play its part. Her tits barely held inside the fabric, and Tim, living inside this body, could feel how heavily they shifted with every move. — You’re still working on your… um… little neural net?
— More precisely, on sampling stability in a diffusion model for audio, — Aaron Blake replied without changing his even tone. He didn’t even raise his eyes, studying the pattern on the napkin as if it held the answer to all the world’s questions. — But yeah, you can call it a “little neural net.”
Maya bit her lip, leaned a bit closer, so the dress stretched tight across her boobs, as if about to give in. She expected at least a hint of reaction, a delayed glance, but Aaron just picked up his glass of water, took a sip, and set it back down in exactly the same spot.
'What the fuck?' Everything inside Tim clenched. He felt the heavy breasts sway slightly from his sharp movement, the dress digging uncomfortably into his waist. 'Did I imagine it? He’s not embarrassed at all, looks like he’s actually bored.'
Maya nervously slid her fingers along the stem of the glass, feeling the cold surface, but inside it was getting hotter. With every movement her breasts reminded her of themselves with a heavy shift, the dress pressed against her ribs, and Aaron… as if he didn’t even notice.
— Maybe you’re just… tired? — Maya stretched the words with fake lightness, though her voice came out a little higher than she wanted. She arched her back again, trying to let the cleavage do its work, and caught her own reflection in the window — juicy lips, loose hair, the floral pattern hugging every line of her body. Everything looked perfect. At least on the outside.
Aaron shrugged.
— No. I’m just thinking about work.
Tim tensed inside. 'Work? You’re sitting across from a woman like this, and you’re thinking about work?!'
Maya let out a breath louder than she intended, and Aaron lifted his gaze for a second, only to return right back to his napkin, as if that was his real conversation partner.
— Work, — Maya repeated with emphasis, leaning forward so her breasts shifted again. — You really want to say that… I don’t distract you?
Aaron calmly placed his elbows on the table, laced his fingers together.
— You… — He paused, choosing words, and for the first time looked directly at her. His eyes slid across her face without stopping even once at her cleavage. — What do you mean?
'The fuck?! Are you kidding me, dude!? What kind of stupid question is that!' — Maya’s face twisted slightly, and Aaron noticed it.
He blinked, raised his brows a little, leaned back, and finally allowed himself the faintest smile.
— Did I say something wrong? — he said calmly, as if spotting an interesting bug in a program.
— What? No? Why would you think that? — Maya shot back immediately, hope sparking inside again.
— Your face, — Aaron said flatly, like it was something obvious.
— What about it? — Maya instinctively touched her cheek with her hand.
Aaron tilted his head a bit, squinted, and now looked at her more intently than before.
— It’s… tense. You’re sitting there smiling, but it doesn’t look relaxed. More like you’re hiding something.
Inside, Tim felt like he fell into a cold pit. 'What?! How the hell can he see that?! Is it really that obvious?!'
He thought the dress, the hair, the tits — all of it made him the perfect woman. But Aaron was looking right through it, like he could see what wasn’t supposed to be seen.
'He must be gay! This is a fucking failure! And what am I supposed to do for a whole week in this body?!' — Tim wanted to jump up, slam the door, and run, but instead Maya, exhaling sharply through her nose and forcing a strained smile, decided to go all-in.
— Listen, — Maya leaned forward suddenly, the tablecloth sliding a little, the glass clinking against the plate. A fake excitement slipped into her voice. — You do realize you’re sitting with a girl who could… you know… distract you from work?
Aaron blinked, looked her straight in the eyes, and frowned slightly, as if evaluating some experiment.
— What do you mean? — he asked again, like she had just offered him to solve an equation on the napkin.
Maya froze, and inside Tim flared up: 'What the fuck else could I mean?! You’re sitting across from tits that are about to fall out of this dress, and you’re pretending you don’t get it?!'
— What do I mean? — Maya took a deep breath, her breasts lifting high, nearly spilling out of the cleavage. She placed her trembling hands on the table and glared at Aaron defiantly. — God, do you seriously not get it, or should I just flash you my tits right now?
For a second, dead silence hung in the air. The table next to them went quiet, the waiter froze with a tray in hand, and Aaron just blinked, slowly lowering his gaze — but not where Maya had expected.
— That’s… a strange thing to say, — he finally said calmly, as if commenting on a bug in the code. — Girls don’t usually talk like that.
It hit Maya like a slap. It felt like everyone was staring at her. Her cheeks burned, and inside Tim screamed: 'Fuck! Of course they don’t! Shit, I’m a guy, why the hell did I blurt that out?! This is a failure!'
She laughed nervously, too loud and sharp, making the couple at the next table turn their heads.
— I was… kidding! — Maya slapped her palm on the table, her breasts jolting, shifting heavily in the cleavage. — Just kidding, kidding.
Aaron narrowed his eyes slightly.
— A joke? Hm. Very… unusual. — He paused, then raised his hand. — Waiter!
Maya nearly choked on air.
— Seriously? You’re calling the waiter when I’m sitting here… well… — her voice trembled, her breasts shivering nervously with her body, the dress pulling at her waist again. — Be honest, you’re gay, right?
Aaron turned to her, not lowering his hand. His look was so calm that everything inside Tim went cold.
— No. — The answer came dry, without hesitation. — I’m not gay.
— Then why the fuck are you sitting there like there’s not a woman in front of you, but… an Excel spreadsheet?! — Maya slammed her palm on the table, her breasts shifting again, heavy, awkward, unnaturally feminine. Her breathing grew uneven, hair sticking to her cheek. — Do you even get that the plan… — she bit her lip, almost slipping. — I mean, that I… I’m here just for you?
Aaron narrowed his eyes a little.
— And that’s what’s strange. Too… deliberate.
Inside, Tim ground his teeth. 'Fuck, that’s it! The whole plan’s fucked!'
The waiter approached their table, but before Aaron could say anything, a low, rough voice growled nearby:
— Well, hello, doll.
Maya flinched, feeling heavy hands land on her shoulders. Her heart crashed in her chest, making the heavy curves of her breasts shift painfully under the fabric of her dress. She slowly turned her head. At the next table stood a tall man in a leather jacket, cropped hair at the sides, a scar on his chin. His stare was sharp, dangerous, and all too familiar.
It was Ray — the same guy Maya, or rather Tim behind her avatar, had been messing around with on Instagram a couple of weeks ago, promising a “night without rules.” Back then, Tim had had a good laugh, but now it was anything but funny. Judging by the photos, this “Ray” was one of the bad guys. Really bad.
— Baby, why the fuck aren’t you answering my messages? — Ray’s grin flashed his teeth, his eyes lifting with threat toward Aaron, who was already standing up from the table. — I’m pretty sure last time we left off at the best part.
Inside, Tim nearly screamed in terror. 'Fuck! No-no-no! This can’t be real!'
Aaron slowly shifted his gaze from Ray to Maya, then raised his brows slightly.
— Looks like you… have other plans. — he said calmly, waving his hand in farewell, just as Ray dropped himself into Aaron’s seat.
Maya felt the blood pounding in her temples, the dress choking her, the breasts suffocating her breathing, and only one thought filled her head — 'I’m fucked…'.