She gives a super bj!

"I really am your biggest fan!" You assure her. "You're my favorite superhero!"

You had previously adjusted her personality to make her easily flattered and willing to do anything for a fan. She squealed in delight.

"I LOVE my fans!" She exclaims.

"Do you keep your costume here in your office?" you ask.

She does. You designed it with the device, including the secret wall panel it was held in. She's delighted to put it on for you. She rips off the rest of her clothes and giggles as she reveals the secret compartment which she opens with a nudge of her hip.

The panel compartment is only needed for the high-heeled pink PVC knee-length boots. The rest of her costume would fit in her pocketbook. It's a pink micro-monokini with a capital B atop each nipple.

She actually looks more naked with it on than when she was naked. It doesn't really hide anything so much as it highlights her zaftig glory.

She adds a pink Domino mask and then pulls out lipstick and blush.

"One of my super powers is that I can do my makeup without a mirror," she said, demonstrating. "Not a lot of people know that."

"I knew that," you assure her. "Like I said, I'm your biggest fan. You have every power you need to be the sexiest super around!"

She giggled.

"Criminals are a horny, distractible lot!" She quotes from the origin story you had typed up for her. "To defeat the underworld, I needed to call on all my powers of sexiness! I needed to become someone who could draw a criminal's attention away from any crime! I needed to become The Buxom Bimbo!"

You applaud. She puts her arms akimbo and shakes her titties.

"You really are the best superhero, BB!" you praise. "I mean, what other superhero has super blowjob powers?"

"Oh, you know about that one, huh?" She says, rubbing her finger along a glossy lower lip coyly.

"I mean, I've HEARD about it," you say. "But I've never actually SEEN it. I don't suppose you'd be willing to do a demonstration..."

"Weeeelll.." she says. "I usually just use that power for fighting crime..."

"Oh come on, BB," you wheedle. "Surely you could make an exception for your biggest fan!"

"Well, I really do love my fans," she said, licking her lips.

"And I really am your BIGGEST fan," you tell her, pulling down your pants to prove it.

You had adjusted yourself a bit, just to make sure the device worked as advertised.

"O!M!G!" The Buxom Bimbo declared, sinking to her knees. "Big cocks are like my kryptonite! I NEED to suck that!"

You aren't about to deprive her of the thing you made her need so badly. You grab hold of your new porn-star pecker and waggle it at her. She squeals and opens wide like a baby bird begging for a worm.

She takes your cock in her mouth and proceeds to blow you with the super-human prowess your reality-changing device has endowed her with.

You had typed into the reality device that The Buxom Bimbo could deep throat any cock without gagging or passing out. You didn't stop to think about how that might work. The device did, though, and you stare in fascination as gill slits open up along the sides of your transformed professor's neck, allowing her to take in air as she gulps down the monster rod you gave yourself.

She moans and sighed in utter bliss as she pushes you deeper and deeper down her throat, your thick shaft stretching her pink lips as she delicately strokes your balls.

"Oh God! You are such a super bimbo!" You gasp.

"Mmmmmng!" She agrees, and then starts to bob her head, faster and faster, her throat throttling your pecker as she furiously fellates you.

It's too much. A blowjob like this would have been unimaginable yesterday and to have it given to you by Dr. Monica Keys, transformed into a walking (kneeling) male fantasy makes it more than you can stand.

You blow your wad much earlier than you intended.

Fortunately, with the modifications you made to your package, your wad is substantially more than it had been. You roar out as you pump gob after gob down The Buxom Bimbo's throat and she quivers with tremendous satisfaction.

"What the fuck?" Says a voice behind you, as it registers too late that someone heard your triumphant roar and has opened the door behind you.