Use you like a trojan horse

After paying for your new outfit Trish buys you lunch and the two of you sit down in one of the most private booths in the small diner attached to the mall. It's the first real food you've had in ages, so you eat it with gusto - though you notice that you feel full long before your male self would.

All the while Trish has a slight grin that just won't leave her face. "Let me tell you a little story," she says once she finishes the last bite of her hot dog. "When I was growing up I got treated as a boy until I was about eleven. My parents, Dad in particular, figured I had the right parts so I would end up a guy. Some of the doctors figured I'd end up that way too because of the testosterone."

She leans back and stretches, then pats her breasts. "Then, couple of months after my eleventh birthday these puppies start filling in. They weren't D cups right away but they grew fast. A few more visits to doctors and they figured out my female side was immune to testosterone - which kind of explained the boobs and why I looked so effeminate for someone with a pair of balls."

Trish sucks on her drink for a moment and munches on some fries before continuing. "So my parents put me in a different school the next year. They figured the kids from my old school would make my life difficult. They were probably right, but they didn't count on what bitches the girls at an all girls school can be. I spent all summer learning how to dress and act from my Mom, but I was still the weird girl when I got to St. Catherine's. I spent two years there trying desperately to fit in before my parents moved me to a regular high school. The girls from St. Catherine's are vicious, catty, hateful bitches. Maybe one girl in a whole class is actually nice, the rest made my stay a living hell. I was nearly suicidal when I got back to a regular high."

"Okay... so what does that have to do with this?" you ask, gesturing at your clothes.

"Girls from St. Catherine's hang out around the mall. The school starts early and ends early, so lots of them - mostly latchkey kids - stop here before heading home. You're the perfect Trojan horse! You're new to town and dressed like that you can go talk to them, maybe say your parents are thinking of sending you to their school." You feel her foot rub against your leg under the table. "And you've got such a dirty mind. These girls don't get a real sex ed. class - I just love the though of you talking with them and spreading some of your ideas - like morning after cum - or some of the classics - like you can't get pregnant the first time."

Not that you can admit it to Trish, but you do know what the girls from St. Catherine's are like. There are some bookworms, there are a few girls with a reputation for slutting it up, but the vast majority are rich, prissy daddy's girls who are too good for any normal boy to even talk too. Feeding some bad advice to those bitches would be awesome payback for all the shit they've thrown toward you and your friends.

Trish sees the slight smirk developing on your face and laughs out loud. "Oh yes! I knew you were the perfect girl for the job. You're just as sick and twisted as I am!" She fusses with her purple hair for a moment and says, "I was always too nervous to try something like this on my own. Now that I've got you for - um - immoral support I just can't wait to get started. I'm going to have to hit the salon to change up my hair so the skittish ones don't run away. What do you think - blonde, brunette? Or maybe, like, raven black?" She looks at herself in a makeup mirror and adds, "Greens and blues and purples go way better with my usual outfits, but I'm not great at looking 'normal'. Funny, huh? My parents send me to an all girls school for two years and I can't even figure out hair color."