You groan in displeasure. The belt absolutely refuses to come loose; like the boots, they are tightly attached to your changing body, emphasizing your increasingly feminine appearance. Looking around in desperation, you realize the bell for lunch will be ringing shortly and there is absolutely no chance of escaping at the door at this point. Your mind desperately races for other places for you to hide, where no one will be during and after the lunch bell rings. Somewhere where you can take stock of your situation and avoid the humiliation of public spaces. Somewhere...
Suddenly, something clicks in your brain. The principal of your school always gets his lunch with his assistant a good ten minutes before the lunch bell, so as to avoid the huge crowds of rushing students. He heard his own teacher grumbling about it in the past. This meant, of course, that the office would be completely empty and a perfect place to hide! Awkwardly stumbling on your six-inch heels, you start galumphing your way over to the office. You carefully open the door and grin in triumph. The office is unoccupied!
Shutting the door behind you, you plop down in a chair and take stock of the situation. Your right hand is covered in pink goop, which you are careful to keep away from your body. In the confusion, you failed to notice that this hand has become considerably more slender and, of course, more feminine. Pink nail polish adorns your carefully manicured nails; all as a result of the strange goop! You look at the other results of the strange goop, noticing your now considerably more feminine grey trenchcoat, covered in frills and featuring a wider collar that would bare a well-endowed chest, if you had one. Six-inch heels adorn the end of sexy, knee-high black leather boots that tightly and lovingly caress your now-hairless and sexy legs. Finally, you are wearing a sexy leather miniskirt that tightly adheres to your lower body, your privates encased in a tight thong.
What in the world was this goop that it could do such things? It was clear that it was changing you into a woman, but why? To what end? And how? And what sort of woman?
As you've been sitting, you failed to notice another change in your trench coat. Your trench coat starts to shimmer and vibrate, changing both colors and materials. A deep and bright pink begins to overtake the conventional grey, a shiny, smelly leather overtaking the original canvas material. Somehow it starts to get tighter, encompassing your arms and torso with tight, pink leather. The belt, if possible, cinches tighter, increasing the hourglass nature of your coat even farther. The bottom creeps up even further, barely covering your skirt and not covering your legs in the slightest.
You are aghast. Even though you hadn't touched the coat again, it had somehow changed once more. Does this mean that the changes to your body would progress without you doing anything?
The bell rings, releasing hoards of children into the hallways. You know you only have a few minutes of solitude; what is your next plan of action?