“Honey what’s wrong?” my wife asked.
“Nothing, I uh… I just need some water.” I said, heading to the bathroom.
I looked at myself in the mirror. “Get ahold of yourself, Kyle,” I said. I’ve been investigating this school for a week now and I’ve gotten so caught up. All of my grades are so low and it makes me feel so dumb. I sat down on the toilet and started masturbating, like I have been for almost a week, to the thought of getting an A. It’s become a complete obsession. I’m trying to stay focused on my mission but I can’t if I don’t start getting good grades. It’s time I talk to my director.
— The Next Day —
“Sir, I need to change my disguise,” I said.
“In what way, Kyle?” he asked, confused by my request.
“I’m not very—ehem, sorry, Kylie, she’s not very pretty. I don’t think she’s fitting in at school. The identity needs to dye her hair blonde and perhaps start dressing sluttier,” I said, completely serious.
“Are you sure, Kyle? We wouldn’t want to push you past your comfort zone.”
“No I’m sure, sir, this is important for the mission.”
“Okay, I’ll tell the team.”
When the makeup and latex teams prepared me today they made sure to do a lot better. My hair was a beautiful blonde and my skirt hanged right above my ass, revealing a thong so tight that it disappeared between my crack. I cooed in the mirror as I puffed my hair.
At school the teachers noticed instantly. My grade went up to a C across the board and it made me feel so good! Every time an instructor complimented me I could almost feel the breast forms tingle, and I could imagine juice running down my leg. It all just felt so real. I had to do better. I went to the library and started studying for hours after school everyday. I filled notebooks with techniques on how to give the perfect blowjob and how to walk, talk, and act sexy. However, my grades just wouldn’t go up! I knew I had to speak to my advisor.
“Mrs. Shaw, you look like you’re really starting to fit in,” she said.
“Not really! No matter how hard I try I just can’t get my grades up!” I pouted.
“Maybe that’s because you could never be a real slut if you don’t have a pussy.”
“What? How do you know…?”
“Relax, Kylie! We can fix that for you. All you have to do is call your buddies at the CIA and tell them to give up the investigation, and we can make you into a straight A student in no time.”
I eagerly grabbed the phone without a second thought and sent the message to my director.
