Almost twenty girls have gone missing after enrolling into a new two-year private college in town. The CIA wanted to enroll a girl to investigate but it seemed far too risky, so they sent me instead. My name is Kyle, a 26 year old guy, and I’m going undercover as Kylie, a 19 year old girl. After extensive makeup and latex work the team was able to create a totally indistinguishable college girl. I’m supposed to stay low, wear dark clothes, and not really stand out. They’ve sent me in as a sophomore so I’ll already be a year into the program.
The admissions office was beautiful, with lovely ornate furniture and tapestries. I sat in a chair across from the desk of my advisor, making sure to cross my legs so that I would look feminine. I took many classes at the CIA on feminine behavior to make sure I didn’t blow my cover.
“Kylie Shaw,” the advisor said, looking at some papers, “Unfortunately some of these credits you have listed here will not transfer without taking a placement exam.” She peered over the papers at me through her glasses, “Is that acceptable?”
“Of course,” I squeaked.
“Very well, Mrs. Shaw. If you will follow me to the testing room I can get you started right away.”
The tests were ridiculously easy. The math problems were very basic and the english test read at what seemed like a fifth grade level. The final exam, a personality test, was by far the weirdest. The questions asked where a woman’s place was in society, with answers like “Beneath men, equal to men, or above men.” I tried to stick to answers that showed equality. I exited the room, as instructed, and waited in the hallway for my advisor.
“Mrs. Shaw!” she called, “Your scores are ready.”
I entered her room and took a seat.
“Unfortunately you scored too poorly on your placement exams to allow us to transfer any credits.”
“What? That must be a mistake,” I said. How could that be? The tests were so easy!
“Don’t worry, many girls struggle on our tests when they first arrive. We will be enrolling you in some faster-paced ‘core classes’ that will help boost your scores so you can get right back on track next semester.”
— Next Week —
I filed into my first remedial class, forcing myself towards the back of the room. I felt ridiculous, how could I score so lowly? The teacher turned off the lights, put on a video, then quietly exited the room. The video was colorful and vibrant, narrated by an extremely upbeat young woman. She talked a lot about math but I couldn’t focus. The class felt so beneath me. Before I knew it the bell had rang and the class was over. Three hours, gone, and I didn’t even realize it. The teacher gave us homework to take home and I made sure I took a look at it before my next class.
“What is two plus two?” the first question said.
“What an easy one!” I thought, tracing the problem with my pencil. A minute passed however, and I still couldn’t come up with an answer. I continued to trace the problem with my pencil, searching my mind for an answer before I heard the bell ring for my next class. Looks like I might need to pay more attention in that math class.
The next class was very similar to the last. The teacher put on a colorful video and left the room. I tried to watch this video instead of dozing off like the last one. The narrator talked a lot about toys, which sounded like a lot of fun. Everything the narrator said was true and made a lot of sense, I found myself really trusting her. She told the class that girls are toys, and that, sense we’re girls, we must be toys. It kinda sounded wrong but I wasn’t about to argue. Before long the teacher gave us homework and sent us home. Maybe I’d do better on this class’s assignment.
