Give Circe Breasts As Big As Hers

Magic told cells to divide. Nutrients were conjured, metabolic processes sped up. Skin stretched, nipples swelled. A high-pitched gleeful squeal came from the bimbo Lois Lane as she grabbed the sides of Circe's breasts as they began to slowly grow.

The healing magic ran haywire. Nerves proliferated, fat repopulated, blood flooded into new veins and arteries too fast. Circe moaned, suddenly light-headed. Unable to correct the incantation, incapable of speech as her tits, once no bigger than apples, became plump cantaloupes and showed no sign of slowing their growth.

"Big, beautiful boobies," Lois said. Her hands gripped the sides of Circe's tits, the flesh so warm against the palms of her hands. The bimbo straddled Circe's hips, and from this position she could lean down and let her stiff nipples rub against Circe's. Lois had already forgotten the beach and the sun; the pale glow of the lightbulb and the steadily growing tits were her whole world now.

She squeezed, and giggled to see the boobs jiggle. Pressed her own, still bigger, breasts down and watched the four boobs flatten slightly. When she was like this, Lois could feel the pressure as Circe's tits continued to grow, to push back against the sheer mass of the bimbo boobs above them. The sorceress moaned as Lois's breasts and hands massaged the bloated breasts, the new tit-flesh impossibly sensitive.

"They look so yummy," Lois said. "I wanna...do things to them."

She giggled again.

"You want me to do things to your big boobies?" Lois said.

Circe could only moan. The reporter took that as permission.