The Interrogation 4 (Chapter 12)

Though she was certain he could sustain more guzzling without succumbing, Angelina had to let go of Austin’s head, or risk breaking his neck, as it was getting quite impossible for him to be held at nipple-sucking height while his legs were buried under her rump. At less than two feet tall now, there was precious little of him to work with, but as usual, Angelina was prepared to make do. Affectionately running her fingers through his shaggy hair, she released him with a forehead-thunk that ensured the last gulp of milk made it down his gullet.

“Let’s hear it,” she said, not so much sitting on the guy’s lap now as using his sunken body as a cushion. “Clock’s ticking. Five seconds, and then it’s time for another round of shots, on the house.”

“I’ll… t-tell you! I m-mean, I’ll… I’ll try!” Austin sputtered, all the bravado squeezed out of him now, literally, by entirely more cake than he could handle. “I d-don’t know for sure, b-but I’ll… help you look! Fuck, I’ll t-text them and make you m-meet them somewhere!”

“That’s a much better opening bid. What else can you offer?”

            “W-What?”

            “Well, that may have been enough to start off with, but now you’ve wasted my time, so you’ve got to sweeten the pot. C’mon, sugar plum. What do you suppose a girl like me would be really tempted by?”

            “I’ll… g-go with you. I’ll do whatever I… have to. Whatever… f-fucked up shit you need, I’ll… do it. Just… l-let me… live.”

            “You really are a more fascinating critter than I gave you credit for at first glance, what’s-your-name, I’ll give you that much,” Angelina said with a modicum of respect, or at least the closest she could approximate for a shrunken oaf she still fully intended to milk straight down to the fiery gates of Hades. Still, his survival instincts genuinely impressed her. She stroked her thumbnail along his jaw, wiping away the last dairy droplets to allow him a shade of dignity, though this was still a tough look to pull off for a little man swaddled in his oversized swimsuit and squirming for purchase under the heaving hocks of her ass.

            Right when she saw the look of hope dawn on his pitiful countenance, then, Angelina squirted one last face-coating lactation bomb for luck, most of which was coughed into Austin’s throat, then rose from her living seat. The little fellow was too busy spewing through the creamy beverage to make his getaway, plus it would’ve taken a full minute for his legs to regain sufficient feeling anyway to avoid walking like a marionette, though he was the size of one now. Right as he arrived at foot-tall stature, Angelina returned, having filched Austin’s phone from his belongings, and leapt back into the chair, right on top of her customer.

            Austin squealed as a woman more than quintuple his height and far more voluminous threw herself down, flattening his legs and crotch with extreme prejudice. Both parties heard an indistinct snap over the pounding music, but Angelina was quick enough to cover his mouth again so the frat boy’s screams wouldn’t disturb any nearby patrons. With her other hand, she began swiping through his phone, whistling while she worked and sifting her cheeks side to side. Only Austin’s head was still visible, poking out below the crimson curve of the giantess’s arousal-tinted thong, while the rest of him was fossilized in pale-bottomed pudge not quite so blubbery as her bosom, with her deceptive musculature concealed beneath the bouncy heft that made it all the more painful when she clenched mid-shimmy.

            “Apologies, hon, you’ll have to just bear with me a second. I’m not quite up-to-date with the latest versions of every gadget the kiddies are using…” Angelina drawled, as her grinding caused another gravelly crunch in Austin’s legs, whose cries were again cupped into her hand. “Sorry if this is a tad uncomfortable but, well, it was you who offered to do whatever I wanted. No take-backs. Ah, here they are. The three musketeers. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you might say to your friends if you were, for example, planning to meet up for a few brewskis, instead of helping them walk right into their own graves? On second thought, let’s have you do it yourself. It’ll just have that more personal touch, don’t you think?”

            Eager to get an answer not influenced by Austin’s crying, Angelina reluctantly stood, leaving the quivering foot-tall creature to shiver and twitch from shrunken broken-legged agony. After giving him a full minute to get over himself, tapping her foot with impatience, the woman wreathed her thumb and index finger like a bonnet around the boy’s head, cinching until his breathing was impaired again.

            “I don’t care what you have to tell them. Just get them in one place,” she demanded, crouching low over the chair and slurring into the tormented thing’s ear. “Try not to use too many words. Not that I care if you’re loquacious, but I sincerely doubt you’ve got the energy to text them a whole novel’s worth. Short and sweet is the way. Just like you are. Well, at least the first part. By the way, don’t try to type anything clever, or I just might have to bite those adorable itsy-bitsy fingers of yours right off. Now, I know we say that to babies, but you’re no baby, baby, so I really will chew your goddamned little hands off if you try to text them for help. Do a good job, and maybe I’ll drop you off at the emergency room on my way out of town.”

            Sweating and weeping profusely, but appearing to have gotten the message loud and clear even in his tortured state, Austin meekly raised a hand as his cell phone was offered two inches above, shining a light on his distraught milk-and-tear-stained doll-scale expression. Indeed with hardly enough gusto to make the touch screen register his needlepoint-digits, the boy tapped out a concise message, then grimly nodded to Angelina, who retracted it to read.

            “Good thinking. Very convincing. And nice touch at the end there, about the hot girl giving out blowjobs and ecstasy. That’ll make them come running. Yes, a little unbelievable, but hey, look at me,” Angelina sighed as she thumbed through the message, then hit send. Humming at the phone, she crossed her arms over the curvaceous mountain terrain of her chest, absentmindedly pat-a-caking the bulbous flanks. “Look at that, they already answered. Ten minutes, they said. Oh, they’re so excited. Not bad, kid. Even on the edge of giving out, you can still think clearly enough to get yourself out of a jam. But, I guess that’s a required skill in the tool belt of the average fraternity asshole, right? Now, where exactly where we? Oh, that’s right. Where are my manners? I’ve left you hanging on this while, and I still haven’t finished your dance. No, please… don’t get up. I insist. Just sit back and relax.”

            Revolving so her derriere hung threateningly above the immobilized little worm, Angelina threw the phone aside and glided both palms down the small of her back, cresting her fingertips over the puffed crescendo of her cheeks, gripping and fondling the tush padding as she went, until she’d completed a lap around the circumference with both hands, jiggling all the way. Then in one aggressive plant, she whomped herself straight back on whatever remained of Austin’s lap, along with the rest of Austin himself. His muted squeak was silenced by the club bassline and even more by the weighty stack of caboose mass twerking him into the afterlife. It sounded as though the woman had mistakenly sat down on a Cracker Jack box, from the variety of noises coming from beneath with each thrust and sway of her expressive bum.

            When at last his writhing had ceased, and the crunching of Austin’s miniature bones completely overtook even his muffled wailing into the place where the sun didn’t shine, Angelina arose, then pried open his little lips to dispose of the evidence.

            Five minutes later, a suspicious staff member yanked back the curtain, but found neither dancer nor customer, only an abandoned knapsack in the corner and curious white stains splattered on the chair, which were hastily disinfected.