The professor's gorgeous legs stretch away for miles, down to the ground. You see the world from beneath a tangle of pubic hair, it had been a while since your last haircut before you transformed. Her black dress pants and red panties lie crumpled around her feet.
"I'm putting you away for now, I hope you're not claustrophobic" says the professor. Her voice carries through her body, and you once again hear and feel a pulse which is not your own. Your vision swings upwards towards her desk as she bends towards her pants, and then you see the red gusset of her panties rush towards you.
Then you don't see anything.
The red panties encase you very snugly. They smell mostly clean, and slightly sweaty. You recall that this class happens towards the end of the school day, which means that the professor's former pussy had been occupying them for several hours now.
Once again, you are struck by your incredible sensitivity. The feeling of the skilk panties across your skin is incredible. Your body is gently deformed this way and that, out of your control, as professor Kalalu adjusts her posture. Your inner lips are longer than those of the pussy you had replaced, and they rub against the fabric, and each other. You are pretty dry right now, but as you sit in the professor's tight pants, feeling, smelling, and tasting pussy from everywhere, you begin to heat up and moisten, and your lips begin to part slightly. Still though, you wonder. The professor seemed nice, right? She looked like a woman who took good care of herself. You were probably in good hands. But, how long was this assignment, exactly?
As you wonder this to yourself, you half-remember a detail about this class from another world, and it fills you with shock. This is the final assignment, and it will continue on until the end of the term. How long was that? A week? Two weeks?
About half an hour passes, you figure. You've listened to the professor call up each boy in the class, and felt energy course through you each time she cast the transformation spell. It felt as though your essence was being drawn into hers, very strange.
Eventually professor Kalalu got to the end of the list.
You think to yourself, 'There are only girls standing in this room now. What are they thinking? What are all of their pussies feeling?' There were quite a few other boys mere feet away from you, also experiencing life from the perspective of female genitalia.
"Alright ladies" you hear the professor address the room, "please take good care of your occupants. Remember, they are entirely at your mercy for the next two months."
