Screen-Him

Gary tried not to fidget, but the emerald green minidress didn't make that easy.

The fabric clung to him like it had been poured on, soft but tight, stretching over a body that felt both familiar and alien, a vessel that he no longer felt comfortable in since it began to betray him any time he lost focus. The square neckline promised cleavage he didn't have, the tight fit showed every curve, every bump, every bulge he'd prefer to keep hidden, and the heels made every shift of weight feel like he was on display in a store window.

He'd even done his makeup. To be truthful, he hadn't meant to. After staring at his reflection for a few minutes, feeling the panic rise in his throat like bile, he had made the mistake of trying to take his mind off of things to calm down. In his mind he started running math exercises, something he'd done since he was a child, just to get some grounding. Times tables, then prime numbers, then digits of pi. It went on like that for a few minutes, all the while his heart began to slow down, his breathing steadied. When he felt calm enough, he stopped, but was shocked to see that he was back in front of the mirror, but now his face was completely done up. Blush, lipstick, the works.

And he hated it.

But it didn't matter whether he hated it or not. The fact was that Gary and Wyatt's best shot of getting the money they would need to fix the universe was to use this glitch that made men go crazy for him. He didn't understand it, but he was pretty sure he could harness it. It wasn't any special skill that he needed, Gary just needed his stomach to not retch while playing the part.

On the other side of the room, Wyatt stood with an excited look in her eyes, aiming her phone at him. Her posture was casual, but her smile was playful, even a little conspiratorial. The pink and black lingerie set she wore looked like it had been designed for exactly this kind of teasing: confident, girly, impossible to ignore, and she knew it. She'd said that it had been sweatpants and a sweatshirt when she'd put it on a few minutes earlier, and Gary believed it. What he didn't believe was that she felt in the least bit upset about the change. Wyatt had been transformed, not just in body, but in mind. She wanted to be seen. Especially by Gary.

Gary could tell. Every time he would stare at her body, his eyes drinking in the image of perfection that she couldn't help but convey, she would lean into it. Pose for him. Inviting him to enjoy how she looked, as if she was getting as much enjoyment out of it as he was. Or more.

"You ready, babe?" Wyatt asked, using that flirty tone he was starting to get used to hearing from her.

Gary swallowed. "I... think so?"

Wyatt lifted her phone, eliciting a tightening in Gary's chest. "Okay. This is just a fit check. And trust me, the dress looks amazing on you. You just need to move in it a bit. Show the fabric. You're going to be a natural."

Gary doubted that very much.

He stepped forward, starting near the camera. He'd seen these videos online, and it usually started with the subject starting the video feed, then backing up and showing off. Really, it shouldn't be that hard. A simple back up and spin would do.

Carefully, he took a step backward. Then another. Then another, almost tripped on his heels, and wobbled until he caught himself on the mattress. He sighed, already knowing how poorly he'd done.

Wyatt snorted. "Okay, I get what you're going for, but maybe let's try to make it look like you've already got your sea legs."

He exhaled, rubbed his forehead, reset.

Again he backed up from the camera, even slower this time. Feeling brave, he tried a slow turn, feet got tangled, and fell on his ass, dress riding high revealing everything beneath.

"Lisa, baby," Wyatt lowered her phone, grinning, "you're adorable, but this isn't going to work. You've been moving in heels all day as if you were born in them. What's going on now?"

"I'm just nervous," Gary answered, wincing at her use of his new name, "I can do it. I think. I don't know."

"You can," Wyatt said, bending down and giving him a show of her cleavage. "I know you can. Take a second to compose yourself, then we'll try again."

It was good advice. Deep inside he knew that he could do this, that making this fit check was a simple task, something he should be able to do with his eyes closed. It was nerves, brought on by being on camera, the idea of being seen in that dress by so many people, but also by being so close to Wyatt while she was dressed like that. He couldn't help it. Gary wanted to grab her, to touch her, to have her.

Of course, that would lead to disaster.

Wyatt lifted the phone. "Aaaand—action."

Gary climbed back to his feet, got close to the camera, and lifted his eyes. Instead of locking on the camera lens, though, his eyes locked onto Wyatt's. She was so beautiful. And so close. Again his heart began to flutter, but it was different this time. He'd known Wyatt his whole life, but in that moment he felt a new feeling for her. What this love? Was that what love felt like?

Something shifted.

Not in the room—inside him.

One second he was there, drowning in Wyatt's eyes, the next he began to imagine what it would be like to have a life with her. A real life. The kind of life he'd only dreamed about.

It was morning. It was bright. The church was full of people, but Gary hardly noticed them. Because there, walking toward him down the aisle, was Wyatt. Wearing a tiny approximation of a wedding dress. It had all the markings of a gown, the veil, the dress, the flowers, but none of the coverage. Her huge breasts were barely contained. Her lace-topped stockings were on display, accentuated by her garters. And her heels were tall platforms.

And Gary didn't care about any of it. The only thing he paid attention to was that she was there, for him, for life. She wanted him. He wanted her. For the first time in his life, love blossomed in his heart in a deep, profound, and true way. He trusted it. He trusted her. They would wed, and they would be together forever.

She stepped up to the altar. He reached out to take her hands...

"And we've got it!"

Gary blinked.

Wyatt lowered the phone, beaming. "Lisa! That's fantastic work! Where did you ever learn to move like that? You were electric! And so sensual!"

"Move like what?" Gary said.

Wyatt stepped beside him and angled the phone so he could see. Gary's whole body went cold.

The person on the screen—him—wasn't walking awkwardly or stiffly. Wasn't fidgeting or pulling the dress down. Wasn't moving like Gary.

He moved with sinuous confidence, hips swaying with a rhythm he didn't know he possessed. He smiled with a softness that was almost predatory. He watched, horrified and fascinated, as Screen-Him caressed the strap of the dress, lifted his chin, purred for the camera.

Then his hips began to sway. It was as if there was music playing that nobody could hear but himself, but Screen-Him moved to an unheard beat, hips moving hypnotically back and forth, his hands roaming up and down his body.

In a move that took the finesse of a figure skater, Screen-Him spun on one foot, then landed the other, legs spread, bent down and slowly ran his fingers up his legs, moaning as he slowly touched his inner thighs. All the while his eyes were locked on the camera, a hungry, daring look that was inviting the viewer to come get him.

Even though it was himself he was watching, his own penis began to twitch in his green dress.

On screen, he turned, and swayed toward the bed. In a feline manner, he crawled across the mattress, his dress riding higher and higher with every movement, looking over his shoulder smiling. Screen-Him paused, his lace panties barely containing his penis, and began to wag his butt cheeks back and forth, again to the beat of an unheard tune.

"Oh my God," Gary said, not believing his eyes.

After a few moments of that, Screen-Him climbed off the bed, licked his lips slowly, then walked toward the camera like a predator stalking its prey.

"And we've got it!" came Wyatt's melodic voice over the phone's speaker, and then the video ended.

"What the fuck?!" Gary said, heart racing.

Wyatt whistled low. "Honey, you're going to break the internet."

"That's not me," Gary whispered. "I didn't do that."

"Well, babe, the camera disagrees," Wyatt was watching the video again. "With content like this, we'll get the money in no time."

"You can't possibly post that."

"Already done, honey," Wyatt said with a grin. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with this video in my bedroom. And unless you want to watch, you might want to... you know... give me some space."

He watched as Wyatt's lingerie-class behind made its way out of the spare bedroom, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His thoughts and memories of that video.

His thoughts, his memories of that video, and his penis, which despite his best efforts, continued to swell and strain against his panties.