The Interrogation 4 (Chapter 21)

Indeed there was no way to be certain whether Randy heard or comprehended this news while wearing Angelina’s voracious pussy like a full-head helmet, but his body language gave his keeper a hint that her message had gotten through. Again he froze in the grip of her chest, recalibrating his wild pre-fatal emotions, and went from sexual writhing to frenzy-kicking, though both responses were equally simple for the woman to suppress, even while easing him back toward the light, no longer clamped in the deepest trench-point of her cleavage. Once she had him right where she wanted, Angelina carefully plucked and dragged her meaty nips closer together, as though she meant to unite them like button-snaps, and consequently collided both inner slabs of balmy tit brawn. Then, arching her back again just enough, until she felt both erect high-beams grinding areola goose bumps with foot-tall Randy’s shaky thighs, the giantess squeezed.

Like spring water miraculously gushing from stone, Angelina’s hardened nipples spouted free-flowing streams of lactation. The twin snow-white dribble lines went down the inverted lad’s legs, uniting at his beltline, and proceeded as a single milk cataract, washing all over his torso, until it all funneled down his neck, through the giantess’s vibrating pussy lips and into her crotch. At last the trickles reached his face, which conveniently was still grinding tongue-out to lap at any flesh and fluids he encountered, and indeed Randy seemed so into the act, out of enthusiasm or survival, he didn’t seem to realize he’d begun to ingest dairy as well as cum, until the real estate inside Angelina’s cunt mysteriously expanded.

Though Randy stopped voluntarily licking at this point, a minor downside for the ever-taller siren, his ten-inch body was still furiously serviced, with his miniscule hard-on entombed in untold layers of pasty maternal pudge, the twin planetary bulges trembling to jack him while sluicing more milk down his frame. It was a tough angle for Angelina to maintain, not only keeping her toy boy upside-down and neck-deep in her garden, but simultaneously holding perspiring under-boob heft in thrusting contact with his tiny genitals while the rotund teats remained free for primping and flushing. Still, the giantess was the owner of some highly malleable udders, deceptively so in spite of their hot air balloon proportions, and also a master now of gymnastically contorting her girls for whatever purpose she required, at least as far as the laws of puff-fleshed physics could allow.

Then as the little fellow diminished to eight inches, only clamped into mammoth cleavage by his legs and cock now, Angelina felt his lips gyrating back into action, not intentionally to continue their third-base activities, but to sputter and rasp for gulps of clean air past the gushing current of milk pouring around his head. The excess still dripped out of her onto the bed, forming a sopping puddle below, but even that wasn’t clearing the pocket fast enough, and Randy had no choice but to swallow past the frothy beverage just to keep tainted oxygen in his lungs. Thus Angelina was satisfied again, since she didn’t especially care whether he kissed her pussy for pleasure or to keep on living, just so long as he did it, and her body adopted the toe-curling hair-standing sexualized thrall that Randy’s had just abandoned in the wake of shrinking lethality. She bucked and swayed en-route to orgasm, but clenched her musculature to extend the trip just a little longer. This also worked out anyway while the shrinker kept melting in size, as Angelina’s kegel performance narrowed its sloppy grip on the boy’s skull.

Down to half a foot, there wasn’t enough of Randy to go around in both the tit and vaginal regions of his well-endowed femme fatale’s swollen hourglass curves, and naturally Angelina wasn’t about to compromise her own euphoria when she was so near to finishing, so her muggy milkbags surrendered their claim to his shape. With one hand pinching the little thing face-down in the pit still, she operated a single nipple with the other set of fingers, still spraying her victim down until he resembled a thickly frosted gingerbread man. Then, graciously realizing she didn’t have to stop Randy’s ride either, Angelina kept on dexterously rolling his micro-erection between her thumb and forefinger while the other digits kept him suspended in pussy-dipping position, using the milk rivulets coursing down his body as jerking lubricant. More and more of the dairy was going to waste now, dripping right back out of her nethers like bilge from a sinking ship, but Randy was still tanking a high volume of it, only kept from having a beverage-inflated gut thanks to his inverted pose.

Now in a race between her own sexual prowess and the size-robbing powers of her milk, Angelina focused on yanking Randy’s nubbin rod to completion, before there was nothing left to hang onto. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have bothered with such a task, but the little guy had proven such an unexpected source of amusement today, she decided it was the least she could do.

Feeling so charitable she almost made herself sick, Angelina grappled the remaining four inches of Randy’s body and entered a jacking frenzy using the very tips of her fingers, while fending off her own climax just a few seconds longer, no matter how good the drowning shrinker’s dire lip-flapping felt against her inner tunnel the smaller he became. Moaning, croaking, and muted milk-choking between the two punctuated the dead-of-night quiet, and then Angelina felt Randy spasm and go still, either dead or over-sexed. When a flinch seconds later confirmed it was the latter, at least for now, the giantess nodded to herself in gratified affirmation, and then allowed herself to cross the finish line as well by pushing Randy deeper within, until the pill-sized fleck of his prick mashed her quivering clit.

Her guttural orgasm was an absolute eruption, pushing a tide of feminine nectar back against the incoming trickles of milk, now with the top half of a three-inch man’s body caught in the middle of sticky warring fluids. The result was so messy and desperately ambrosial for Angelina, those tequila shots nearly got to her, when she lost her grip on Randy and watched him nearly sucked past her labia and entirely inside. She regained composure in time to snatch him by one leg, however, and extract the gooey fratster from the milk-and-cum fracas before it could consume him. The last round of swallowed cream entered his system, and Randy dangled, liquid-glazed and nearly-unconscious, at one inch tall from his captor’s surgically clamped fingernails.

“Very well done, sugar plum, and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better before you go,” Angelina insisted. “Trust me, I have no problem telling a man he’s a limp noodle in bed right before I off him, but you… you show a lot of potential. Now, that’s potential which will unfortunately be stopping short right here, since you yourself are about to do a little stopping short, but don’t feel too bad. This way, you’ll end on a high note, and never have the chance to disappoint a girl again. Really, you couldn’t ask for better circumstances. Well… maybe you could, I suppose, if you were going to be picky, but you don’t seem that way to me, Randy dear. All right. Let’s see if I can land this one. Thanks for the laughs.”

Regaining just enough consciousness to blink at the gothic boob-tastic titaness, Randy watched Angelina’s wrist bend in preparation to fling him skyward. She tipped her head back and parted her lips wide-open, as though she meant to take aim and throw him into her gullet like a popcorn kernel. And of course he believed it. Even his wildest squeals and thrashes couldn’t have made a difference now, and indeed they didn’t as he fruitlessly battled Angelina’s unmoving claws. Her hand launched up and she let go, tossing him in a high arc far above her head. Briefly suspended in the darkness of the spacious bedroom, feeling rather like he’d been dropped from a plane for a midnight parachuting, Randy looked down and saw the giantess’s open mouth waiting to catch him, and coming closer every split-second. Milk and ejaculate drops flew off his airborne inch-high frame like sparks while he plummeted toward the slimy void.

Yet just seconds before passing through those blood-red lips, Angelina chuckled and leaned far back, proving this edible threat to be a last fake-out all along, and chose to catch and “eat” her descending prey with alternative means: her milk-tacky, sex-sweated, astronomic lunar orbs radiating near-translucent in the pale bedside glow. Her fingers pried the hulking spheres apart as far as possible, creating a fleeting gap of trembling space all the way down her cleavage, just as Randy passed into the twins’ shadow. Then all the giantess had to do was release her white-knuckled fingers, allowing her tits to rebound in the blink of an eye back to their flab-distorted resting snuggle against one another. A quiet snap and textured splat followed from between her fatty flanks when they clapped their infinitesimal target, ending Randy’s comparatively-lengthy tenure in Angelina’s orbit.

The maestro fell straight back on the bed, perfectly bare and awash in good feeling, and closed her eyes, sinking rapidly into a post-orgasm and post-hunting slumber full of grim but wet dreams.

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THE END (for now)