Interrogation Chronicles: One-Night Shrink (Chapter 8)

Just as I let out a moan and closed my eyes, knowing I wouldn’t be able to last another thirty seconds before the long-awaited consummation with her mountainous gifts, the second-worst thing that had happened tonight took place, when Angie’s finger slipped back in to divorce my cock from her mile-long cleavage slit with just a flick. My blue-balled little fella sprung out and I almost burst into tears, though in fairness, I was pretty psychologically knotted up already, what with having my night of passion with a dominant older mommy-type fox rudely interrupted by Angie being some kind of milk witch who got off on seeing rando dudes shrink.

“Don’t fret, now. I just had to get you a little worked up before we played out the finale,” she purred, likely reading the distraught bummer in my expression. Wildly, as I held her gaze and tried not to sink to the even-more pathetic depths of asking pretty-pretty-please for her to finish boob-jacking my mini shlong, I realized how much I enjoyed being beneath her. Every part of her was so beautiful and in-command, and only more so now that she’d become a towering demi-goddess, that I probably could’ve had the time of my life if she’d given me some kind of heads-up that this shift was coming, and if she’d promised to unshrink me once we’d both cummed a combined total of twenty times. I’d have been hesitant, sure, but then again there’s no life without a little risk.

But this had officially gone too far, and as I didn’t even know for sure if Doug was still alive, let alone whether I would be soon, all I could do was stare silently back up at Angie’s eerily kind eyes. Her posture shifted, then, as she hiked her legs up higher along my body, still keeping me wedged in like a tight canoe between her twerkable thighs, while gripping the headboard herself for support, until she’d positioned that obviously-thirsty labia just inches above my successfully fluffed hard-on. Sure enough, I could see both her teats had dribbled some pearly-white liquid samples in the process of tit-fucking me, and as she straightened her back, the cream was made to flow down the deep curve of the underboob, her midriff, and toward her pussy. There, the whiteness of those milk trickles racing one another along Angie’s body were diluted and clouded upon intertwining with the gel of fragrant arousal flecked over her vulva. This new cocktail of fluids from my great and powerful lady of the night at last drooled down her petals in a single thick strand, splashing a warm drop of her milk-and-cum onto my erection below. I twitched at the teasing sensation of those substances joining the dusting of Angie’s breast sweat already smothered across me, recognizing what was about to happen, and found myself both wanting and abhorring it at once.

“Like I told you before, no one’s ever lasted as long as you have, once they drink from me,” Angie said, again guiding my mini erection with her fingertips so it was perfectly aligned under her gradually-encroaching vaginal maw. “Let’s hope your little-you can last at least that long now.”

Then she plunged her hindquarters down on me to mount, burying most of my lower half beneath her delectable cheeks, while her open-door cunt slotted easily around my rod, and began to grind. It was overwhelming, wonderful and electric and subjugating in all the ways I’d hoped to find tonight, minus the fact that I was now a lactate-shrunken sex prisoner, and my buddy’s whereabouts and wellbeing were completely unknown to me. Still, for the first full minute, I couldn’t focus on any of the negative, while my brain filled with bliss and my little-me was taken for a rough but titillating spin. I guess Angie was right, in that I needed some warm-up first just for her to have anything to work with now, and though ultimately I’d probably never experience something more stimulating than what I felt while her baggy hooter cleft pumped around my manhood, this was pretty damn good too.

Right away Angie began to ride my strapped-down undersized form like a bronco, or maybe more like a pony. The mattress springs squawked and buckled at the height of each bounce, when her knees dug into the bedspread and her thighs re-cinched around my sides. Of course I’d been on the bottom in bed many times before, and even preferred it at times as I did tonight, but fittingly for the fact that I was getting screwed by a twelve-foot-tall leviathan witch, this was the most visceral way I’d ever experienced it. The vibrant musculature in her legs and swelled-out bum cheeks pulsed in rippling tandem over most of my body at once such that I could feel every individual grouping beneath the pale exterior of her soft skin, emphasizing her dominant strength and forcing me to match the pace of her humping as much as I could while my limbs were still stretched in every direction by leather restraints.

The complex of hot wet telescoping contact happening to my submerged cock was unnerving at first, as my genitals were clearly the weaker party in this union with her comparatively spacious canal, which gripped me tighter than I expected a woman of this size and, frankly, near-middle age to be capable of. Especially because I got the impression that this was far from her first rodeo. Still, she obviously had the kind of sensual wisdom I’d been craving in spades, and was putting it fully to use, even as my heart rate sped in the early going, when it seemed like the giantess was barely in control of her own moaning, flexing, zone-impaling mania.

Most fantastic of all, though, was my view above. I couldn’t even see Angie’s face but for brief flashes when she hung her head past the reach of her cleavage, but otherwise, my field of vision consisted only of fleshy catastrophic jiggle-rich boulders continuously jerking down in elastic unison toward my head, before launching straight back up again just slightly behind the up-and-down gyrations of her body. It felt like coming within inches of a car crash over and over, the way her sagging dairy-stuffed pair threatened to strike me on the downswing of each bodily mismatched thrust, the longer and deeper she fucked me into herself. In time, though, this adrenaline-spiking visage of her recklessly heaving udders, combined with the wholly overpowering thrum of those gams and that backdoor thickness closing in around me, not to mention the dick-enchanting invigoration of her insatiable giant pussy practically going hips-deep on me, and I found my flow with her. I mewled and perspired and rattled my binds with bubbling-up ecstasy while fully letting myself fall into the role of Angie’s fuckable ragdoll, though in every way was outdone, from volume to movement and apparently even pleasure.

“God – YES – that’s – the – stuff!” my giantess roared, one syllable thundered at the height of each bobbing climb, before she slumped her cheeks flush over my legs all over again while swallowing the entirety of my wincing mast into her tunnel at once, still with room to spare. Sweat was freely descending her freckly moon-glow flesh now in sticky rivulets, as were more milk drops, though these were fired more indiscriminately from her nips in surprise spritzes after an especially brutal trounce. Though she was still gripping the top of the headboard with one hand, I watched the other crimson-clawed mitt descend with fingers curled, and again Angie snatched my whole noggin in those fingers, albeit not as gently this time, with her thumb pressing down on my jaw like she meant to crank it open.

“You’re looking thirsty,” she hyperventilated, not halting our coital train entirely, but slowing the pace down enough that she could speak normally and hang onto my head without breaking my neck. “We don’t need you getting dehydrated, now. Not when I’m so close. Let’s get you good and replenished.”