<div class="floatleft"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/0e/Lauren_Budd_512.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;">%u25CF Fully female.<br/>%u25CF Wearing white dress and heels.<br/>%u25CF Self confident.<br/>%u25CF Mmmm...  Pizza...</span></span></div></div></div></div></td><td></td></tr></tbody></table></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 2pt;"><br/></span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">The pizza arrives and it looks and smells absolutely finger-licking delicious.  For a brief moment the world becomes a simple and logical place; there's me, and there's the pizza, and there is a perfect understanding between the two of us.  The pizza is about to fulfill its predestined role, and I am about to experience gastronomical bliss.<br/><br/>Of course, a singed palate is not conductive to achieving gustatory euphoria, so I try to keep my initial urge to immediately dig in under control, instead taking my time to blow on the slice to cool it down, savouring the aroma in eager anticipation of the experience to come.  A sound of a chair dragged over the floor makes me raise my head and I see Circe taking her seat.  I haven't noticed her leaving, probably was too engrossed in the baked wonder in front of me.  Something looks different from before though, on her chest, a distinct outline of...<br/><br/>"Oh Circe, you didn't need to..."  But evidently she thought she did.  Unless...  No, she wouldn't use this as an excuse to play...  Or would she?<br/><br/>"I don't think that a random thought would do it," I try to reassure her, "otherwise I'll be more unstable than nitroglycerin.  I believe it has to have an emotional element as well, like if it is important to you, or if you really want it, or are excited about it, or curious..."  Uh oh.  Curious is Circe's middle name.  Yea, maybe she does need a reminder not to get carried away.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, Chloe hatches a plan and turns it into action.  A salt circle around my chair and a pentagram on the pizza.  Are we trying to summon a demon from the <abbr title="Cluttony">third circle of hell</abbr>?  The <abbr title="Lust">second one</abbr> would be more appropriate...  I grin, then turn serious, if thoughts have power I probably should not be delving on the denizens for the underworld.  What did Chloe say?  Think about pizza and friendship.  Pizza is good.  Friendship is better.  We've been friends since forever.  I still remember that frantic call from the girls about the burst pipe in the basement, coming at half past midnight when I was sprawled on my couch, pleasantly buzzed, with my hand was rummaging under the equally giddy Monica Henderson's blouse, trying to unhook her bra.  I would have let it ring had I not recognized the ringtone.  Monica was mighty pissed, and even more so when I got up and left.  We slaved in that basement until morning and when I returned home, I discovered that Monica plugged the bath drain and left the water running as a parting gift.  I guess she considered it poetic justice, and it might have been had she not forgotten about the overflow drain hole.  Chloe and Circe swore they will make it up to me, and they did, with dividends...  This friendship may be weird, but it is a strong as it gets.<br/><br/>The hostess passes near our table and our eyes meet.  She's pretty, and has a nice figure.  If not for the current circumstances I might have made a move.  But then, by the way she looked me over, she might swing both ways, or maybe she was just appreciating the dress?  Girls are hard to fathom.<br/><br/>Whatever Chloe is doing seems to be doing something.  There are voices in my head, muted and indistinct but still noticeable.  I close my eyes briefly and find myself in an empty, featureless room with no windows and a single open door.  My eyes snap open in surprise and I am back in at table.  Strange.  I close my eyes again.  Room.  Open.  Restaurant.  Close.  Room.  I keep them closed for a while and try to take stock of the situation.  The voices are coming in from through the doorway, and I get the feeling that other things, both good and bad, can enter as well.  I step closer to the door.  Somehow I know that stepping through it would be a bad idea, that if I leave that room now, I will be forever lost...  I stop and listen.  The voices are still unintelligible but there's a familiar quality to them and when I listen closely, they do seem to resemble the voices of my friends.  On a whim, I reach for the door and pull it closed and immediately, the voices die down.  I open my eyes again and everything looks normal, Chloe passing slices, Circe talking about the book...  But something changed, I feel different, more 'solid' in a way, anchored, centred.  Was that it?  I have to know, and there's a way to find out.  Risky, but as Circe is fond of saying, why not live a little dangerously?  And speaking of the devil...<br/><br/>"Yes,  I have some hypothetical thoughts," I say offhandedly, "Those clamps for example, how do they feel?  Do they pinch?  Or did you adjust the screws to give just the gentlest of pressure, enough to feel their weight tugging down on your nips?  You can make it a bit tighter you know," I continue in a conversational tone, "not to the point of pain like when they were on me, but close.  I wonder how it would feel, maybe like a hypothetical lover rolling them between thumb and forefinger, squeezing and tugging, maybe even giving them a little lick..."<br/><br/>I keep my eyes squarely on Circe's while I reach out with my hand and place it on Chloe's arm, giving it a little squeeze, as if saying <em>"just trust me on this, I know what I'm doing"</em>, then open my mouth a little and lick my lips...<br/><br/>I've joked often that if Hans and Margaret Rey had known Circe, they would have called their books' protagonist 'Apathetic George' by comparison.  She must be fighting it, trying not to think about my words, but I can practically see the wheels turning.  And yet, I feel nothing.  Maybe if I pushed a bit stronger...<br/><br/>"But maybe you prefer to think of other people's nipples," I purr, "Mine for example -- after all, you did wish those clamps on me.  I do have nice ones by the way, I did get a good look in the ladies' room, and as a guy I have an eye for those things.  Would you like to see them?  Or maybe more than that?  Touch them, feel them stiffen under your fingers...  I probably wouldn't say no if you asked nicely, on account of our being good friends.  Hypothetically speaking of course..."<br/><br/>That should have done it, but still nothing.  Good...  And now for the tricky part.  I close my eyes, take a hold on the handle and push that mental door open.  Immediately I get assaulted by the voices, but this time they are <em><strong>loud</strong></em>.  I feel them engulf me, permeate my being, start changing me to their liking...<br/></span><div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/c1/Nips.png)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br/>With a gasp I open my eyes.  My grip on Chloe's arm tightens as my nipples spring erect.  Looking down, I see them poking through my dress.  God, they feel hard enough to cut glass, and bigger than I remember them, and they want -- no, demand -- attention!  I look back up at Circe.  She can help me!  I need her help!  I need her to grab my nipples, I need her to play with them, I need her to suck them, to nibble on them, I need...<br/><br/>I close my eyes, imagining her soft, luscious lips on my breasts, and see the room again.  There was something about a door...  Frantically, I grab the handle and slam it shut, then slide down to the floor, breathing deeply and letting my heart slow down before opening my eyes to find myself back where I was.  The intense arousal and the burning need are gone, and my nipples have calmed down, although I suspect that if I checked, I would find them bigger and more sensitive than they were.  Apparently some changes require explicit undoing, but for now the door stays shut.  "Thank you Chloe," I notice that I am still gripping her arm and let go.  "Whatever you did, it worked."  Better than expected, actually.   "Forgive me for the little scene," I tell Circe, "but I needed to make sure.  On the bright side, you can think about whatever you want without worrying that it will inadvertently affect me."  Unless I let it, by opening the door, but that's a subject for another discussion.  "Pizza now, experiment later," I tell her as I bite into my slice.  Ah, heavenly...</span><br/>