<div class="floatleft"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/ea/Apron.png)<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Michael</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">● Cut and bandaged finger.<br/>● Wearing a pink apron.<br/>● Out of his depth.</span></span></div></div></div></div></td><td></td></tr></tbody></table></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Chloe gives me a strange look, as if something I said rubbed her the wrong way, but still she thumbs through the book, finding a spell to recite.  A pleasant warm feeling spreads across my finger and the bandage flashes and disappears, leaving behind smooth skin with no sign of damage.  "Nice!" I examine the finger, pressing on it with my other hand.  There is no pain, if feels completely healed.  "Thank you, witchy nurse Chloe!"<br/><br/>Circe doesn't seem to take well to my teasing, which is strange since normally she gives as good as she gets.  Maybe she's still a little shaken from whatever she experienced?  I should be going easy on her, there has been a lot for her to come to grips with.  "You're not dim at all, Circe," I insist.  "Maybe just a little confused right now, but then all of us are to some extent."<br/><br/>She looks at me funny then leans over to whisper in Chloe's ear.  They keep whispering to each other for a bit while glancing at me and giggling.  What could they be up to?  "Let's see Mike", Circe says, then exchanges glances with Chloe and they both look at me expectantly.  "See what?" I asked in confusion, looking around.  Is there anything I'm supposed to see?</span><br/><br/><div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/58/Boobs.gif)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">"I don't under..." I start, but a growing warmth in my chest distracts me.  The feeling intensifies, turning into pressure that is oddly centred on my stiffening nipples.  For a brief moment nothing happens, but then I gasp as a pair of growing mounds push the apron out, and in seconds I am staring down a bona-fide cleavage, with two tiny tents made by the poking of a pair of thick feminine nipples.<br/><br/>"The fuck?!" my hands fly to the unnatural protrusions, instinctively trying to push them back in, evoking another gasp when the rubbing of the nipples on the apron's fabric sends a jolt of pleasure through my core.  Damn, those things are sensitive!  And to make things worse, my libido reacts predictably to the presence of yet another pair of breasts by making another tent appear downstairs.<br/><br/>"Ugh!" I groan, shooting a scathing look at the giggling girls.  "This is not funny!  Get me back to normal!"</span><br/>