The Interrogation 4 (Chapter 19)

The way the colossal vixen’s boulders swung and sagged with ponderous weight, Randy might not have guessed just how quickly she could move, especially while obviously with a few libations in her veins. To his heart-stopping shock, then, she lunged to the ground and extended a clawed hand, going not for the little hunk’s body, but the container adhesively lashed to his head. This, he quickly found, was far worse than having her slender fingers curl around his bareness; the baby bottle went airborne in Angelina’s grasp, and Randy followed, writhing and moaning from the incredible discomfort of flying only by the tape-noose coiled around his head. A quick enough rise, and his neck might’ve snapped, but fortunately his keeper seemed to want him intact for just a while longer, and relented some of the pain by gripping Randy by his leg. She hummed a jaunty tune, pacing back and forth in front of the bed, while unwinding and picking at the tape, until the bottle came loose and was tossed aside.

Relieved as he was terrified, the little fellow found his sore mouth liberated for the first time in hours, though that freedom came at the cost of his whole body being cradled between Angelina’s curious manicured talons. He let out a hoarse wail he’d been literally bottling up this entire time until his voice gave out, sputtered and coughed, then rubbed his pink tape-abraded skin, while the giantess helped herself to some pokes and prods across his muscled but feebly-shrunken shape. She turned him over and gently spanked his bottom with the pads of her index and middle fingers, giggling at his automatic reaction to windmill his six-inch legs, then cupped him awkwardly across one flattened palm while twiddling his flaccid but still-manageable member with her thumb.

“If I were you, honey-bunches, I’d be trying my absolute best to get hard and put up a good impression. Because right now, I’ve got my doubts that this little nubbin between your legs is going to cut the mustard,” Angelina sternly advised, now feverishly fluffing her living Ken-doll’s pecker. “And if we can’t work out a way for me to get one last pump out of you, I’m just going to drop you in a popsicle mold full of my mommy juice and then stick you in the freezer overnight, because frankly, I have had a VERY long evening, the kind that would make me tired just to retell it, and I can’t wait to hit the sack. But, that doesn’t mean I have to go to the sack alone. If you can get it up. So c’mon. Let’s see that turtle head peek out of his shell.”

One hand grappled Randy across the chest and held him up straight, using one finger to coil almost completely around his neck, while the other hand continued fiddling with his shrunken manhood. It flinched at first simply due to the giantess’s talent for stimulation, and also because her naked sweat-and-milk-dribbled hooter bags were hanging right below like a live-action big-screen porno. However, after a couple minutes of sustained molestation, Randy didn’t succeed in hardening for his beautiful mature rapist-turned-killer, despite Angelina’s tsking and unsubtle glances at the bedside clock. Time was running just as short as his body.

“M-Maybe with your mouth?” he squeaked, delirious with fright but quiet enough to be understood. “T-That might… h-help!”

Yet again, Angelina found herself with reason to chuckle at Randy’s expense, but also held genuine appreciation for his spirit, dumber than a rock though he was. After shrieking himself into a croak from the second the tape came off, the first decipherable English words from his mouth weren’t to desperately apologize again, or plead for mercy, or ask after the mortal status of his bros. Instead he was offering an actual suggestion to help activate his uncooperative genitals, having either realized the logic in prolonging his life in conjunction with prolonging his schlong, or simply decided he wanted a semi-pleasurable sendoff before another dose of Angelina’s plump-chested elixir sent him to the final abyss.

Shrugging, the giantess raised him up closer to her face and lapped her tongue around the crimson rim of her mouth. Out of all the frat boys she’d milked to death this trip, Randy ultimately was the one who made her the least-eager to shrink and waste as fast as possible. At least he’d had the decency to give her a fun bronco ride before her visits to the strip club and house party. She supposed that meant it wouldn’t do any harm to spare him a goodbye gift before meeting his maker.

“Suit yourself. Cheeky little fucker,” she cooed, winking at Randy, then proceeded to take his entire mini-scale scrotum into her wide-open mouth.

Not that this was a difficult task at his size, even if he’d been fully aroused, but the fratster still jolted with surprise at the obviously-novel sensation of having the entire surface area of his junk simultaneously submerged in frothing saliva and bumpy tongue flesh. The suction hiked immediately and Randy threw his bed back, gasping hollowly at the pain-tinged pleasure of an Angelina-brand BJ, which predictably stung just a little, even while it immediately shot to the top of the guy’s all-time best suck-offs. The only shame in his libido-addled mind now was that the same woman would shortly turn him into a microbial dust-mite floating on the meniscus of a milk lake, but his prediction at her talent had proven so correct, he couldn’t muster more than a lustful whimper for now.

Randy’s dread-powered trembling transitioned smoothly into erotic jittering without skipping a beat, as Angelina took firmer hold of the foot-high young man around his hips for a more secure plant against her O-shaped pucker. Her technique turned more aggressive, tubing her long tongue and pulsing it around what little shaft she had to work with. The barrier was finally broken and Randy went stiff in her mouth. Though Angelina assumed he had mixed feelings about his milk-aided demise, it was plain that he was just as into this part as she was. Long before climax, however, the giantess withdrew his hard-on from her glossy lips, and snickered at the disappointment deflating his posture while splayed across her palm like a dying fish.

“Good thinking, sweetie-pie. That did the trick,” she crooned, while pinching his arousal to keep it up. Her hot breath fogged against his needful rod and made Randy cringe all over again, this time with anxious desire for her to finish what she’d started in her mouth, but she ignored his distress. She exhaled heavily and stifled another laugh. “All right, it’s going to bother me if I don’t ask this. Tell me, Randy-cakes: aren’t you just a little guilty to get hard by the same nice lady who made Timmy go flat? And are you really not going to ask about your other little friends? Don’t you want to know?”

Sexually frustrated and beet-red from stress, Randy bit his lip in thought, then shook his head back and forth. Smirking at this unexpected reply, Angelina’s eyes widened. She knew there was something she liked about this one, or at least liked enough to keep him around for an additional round, which by comparison to her usual playthings, made him a veritable prince.

“No?” she chuckled. “Why not?”

“B-Because I d-don’t wanna make you mad, and I knew this w-would… help. And… I s-saw what you did to Tim. I… d-don’t have to hear about the other g-guys.”

“Fair enough. I can respect that. You’ve got your priorities straight. But, I also can’t let this moment pass and go right back to the same shtick without trying to teach you something else first,” Angelina said, raising an eyebrow at him and re-coiling her fingers around his legs. “Are you ready to feed the head on top of your shoulders now instead of just the one that’s lower down?”