Adjust your professor.

You are a sophomore at University. You had found the device after having a huge argument with your Literature Professor, Dr. Monica Keys. She had failed your final paper.

Hers was your last course in your generals and this failed paper was going to tank your grade point average. And for the stupidest reason! You had written about about the influence of classical literature on superhero comics. Dr. Keys had rejected your premise outright and wrote a scread on "male wish-fulfillment and adolescent fantasies" in red ink all over it.

Well, maybe she had a point, given what you had decided to do with the device.

The dark-haired, bespectacled woman scowls at you as you enter her office. But she has written "Today my panties are black." on the small whiteboard in her office, confirming that the device had indeed worked.

"I've said all I'm going to say on the matter, Rick," she tells you. "The grade stands."

"I totally understand, Professor Keys," you say. "I came to apologize. I want you to know you can trust me. I would never reveal your secret identity and it was foolish of me to even mention superheros in your class."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Close the door, Rick," she says and stands up.

You do as you're told, grinning broadly when your back is turned to her, then returning to mock seriousness.

You turn to find her close and anxious, your programming kicking in. Monica is sexually aroused by the idea of men discovering her secret identity.

"How did you know?" She whispers. "How did you find out that I am really The Buxom Bimbo, Champion of Justice?"

"It was your titties, Professor Keys," you confess. "I've spent so much time staring at The Buxom Bimbo's titties that when I saw them there in your classroom, all of that clothing couldn't disguise them. I'd know those titties anywhere."

She arched an eyebrow again and her cheeks flushed and her eyes dilated.

"Oh! So you're a fan of these?" She said.

Then she grabbed hold of her shirt with both hands and pulled.

You had used the device to weaken all the stitches and buttons in her outfit and make her bra disappear, so with one tug her outfit was shredded and her spectacular melons were jutting before you. She tosses her glasses aside carelessly and pulls off the dark wig you had made her hair into so she could shake out a glorious blonde mane.

"Oh wow!" you exclaim. "You really are The Buxom Bimbo!"

The bare-chested blonde puts her arms akimbo and giggles.