The Interrogation 4 (Chapter 9)

While Randy’s erection shriveled, his body shrunk even faster, diminishing in the ever-more cavernous cummed-up slip-n-slide of Angelina’s cunt, while his legs swiftly numbed from under the seemingly expanding mass of her juicy buttocks squashing down on his midsection. In short order, her second plaything of the day was down to three feet tall, no longer worming beneath her with any amount of strength necessary to resist. If only to catch her breath and mop up her perspiring funbags, Angelina sportingly pinched Randy by the lip and guided him to clamp fully open as though at the dentist’s office, while she extracted the malleable rounded summit of her boob from his mouth.

“Y-You said I’d get to go! You p-promised!” Randy peeped, his voice cracking on the verge of tears as milk ran down his chin.

“No, I said you’d be on your way. And while I’d love to get you sent off in fine fashion right this second, hon, I know I can’t have very long before those shitty friends of yours get bored of trying to buy sex from strippers, so I really should get going before my only lead goes cold. You’ve been a good time, I’ll admit that much, but you’re small potatoes next to your buddies.”

Only reluctantly did Angelina release her iron-clad kegel grip on Randy’s newly baby-carrot dick, which allowed him to relax somewhat, but not much once he got a better look at the extent of his shrinkage. Seductively wiping her finger in a circle over her Tim-splatted upper globes, Angelina swept the more gruesome leftovers of the boy’s half-inch shape back into the gap where they belonged. From there she worked on pulling her sparse red garments back up over her still-dripping womanhood and the scarcely-contained orbs which served as Tim’s final resting place, though without ever taking her gaze off Randy.

“Sit tight right there until I get back, sweetie. Depending on how well the rest of this afternoon goes for me, maybe we’ll have a little more fun before I put you out to pasture. Now, just so you don’t go bothering the neighbors with that lovely singing voice you probably have, let me just give you a little more refreshment to enjoy while I’m out. Not to worry, I didn’t slip anything extra in this one. It’s all-natural, baby. Well, mostly.”

Leaving a perplexed sub-three-foot Randy gawping and pointlessly wriggling against his shackles, Angelina disappeared into the other room, emerging with a baby bottle and a roll of electrician’s tape. Before her prisoner could protest further, she’d squirted the bottle full and screwed the rubber nipple back on. Then, guiding the suckable tip into Randy’s little mouth just as she had with her actual mammary, Angelina roped the tape in circles around the back of his head, until the strapped-on bottle extended off his face like a snout, the contents sloshing and just aching to be drunk through the chewy spout.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Really, I’d love to finish you off now, but time is a factor here, and I still want to take that wonderful instrument for one last ride into the sunset before you head off to the big keg party in the sky. Even if you’re not likely to hit the sweet spot anymore. But, I’m sure we’ll still find a way for you to fill that hole,” Angelina sighed, waving goodbye as she slunk back through the door, leaving Randy to writhe and groan through the tape and binky. “If you’d like to get out of that chair, feel free to take a big swig of the goods. But, for what it’s worth, I’d advise against that. Just try to sit still and play the pretty-faced baby doll you are. Goodness knows you’re the right size for it already.”

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            Swanky electronic music, arousal-scented humidity, and flashing pink-and-green neon lights thickened the sleazy air of Aphrodite’s Castle. Seated in a weathered armchair, with his back turned to the VIP stall velvet curtain, Austin fought the urge to jack off through his trunks before the next dancer entered. He’d already been pushed to the edge by the last booty-bouncing encounter across his thighs, having to disobey every screaming fiber of his being to reach out and grapple the baby-oiled woman’s beautiful golden-tan twin hocks of backside goodness.

At the risk of being tossed out by a bouncer, however, Austin kept his composure throughout the lap dance and didn’t cop a feel, sweating and sorely horny by the conclusion of the last song, and wanting to make it rain with one more allowance’s worth of his parents’ money before he caught up with the other guys. Against the thudding background music, Austin didn’t hear his next purchase’s arrival until her voice was slurring wetly in his ear.

            “Put this on, big boy,” the voice encouraged, husky and aromatic of fruity alcohol, as a silky black bandana was slung over Austin’s shoulder. He tried to turn to face this flinty creature, squinting in the dim pink atmosphere, but her fingers redirected him to stare ahead before he caught a glimpse. “No, no. Keep your eyes covered, and then you can even feel the merchandise if you’d like. Give it a squeeze. I won’t tell if you don’t. Scout’s honor.”

“Fuck, yes, ma’am,” Austin concurred, and knotted the blindfold over his eyes. Despite his excitement, he had to wonder if this was only happening because there was something wrong with the dancer’s face that might sour his experience. Then again, he didn’t especially care about her front so long as that ass could do the job, and since she was open to becoming his personal petting zoo for the length of a song, Austin was willing to put up with the possibility that he was getting cock-teased by an ugly broad’s posterior. His heart raced as he felt her supple thighs backing into his man-spread legs, followed by the buoyant bulk of her lower hemispheres hoisting onto his lap. It was clear she was only wearing enough bikini fabric to fashion a handkerchief, leaving the vast majority of her splendor on display, to be discovered by touch rather than sight. As he suspected, she had some serious junk in the trunk, but Austin’s mystery dancer didn’t feel chunky either, with a toned base tangible through the softness of her cheeks. Goosebumps shot up his frame at the technique he instantly felt in her motion, her caboose already gently twerking to and fro before she’d even begun to really wriggle and clench for maximum sensory overload. She shifted position from one side to the other, resting her palm across his shoulders. Though he couldn’t see anything, Austin could still perceive the shape of upper assets hovering not two inches from the end of his nose. It was tempting to simply press his face straight into what just had to be perfect cleavage to match her gifted ass, especially after the dancer had given him the green light, but the fratster instead chose to explore lower first, shakily pressing down against the woman’s hips.

Her silhouette was different than he’d imagined, with rather extreme dips in proportion from thigh to torso that made Austin wonder if he wasn’t simply too distracted by the music, temporary blindness, and fantastic rump-bouncing action taking place atop his pants tent. The woman didn’t shy from his nethers, either, making use of her ample tush padding to bend his cock back against his thigh through his swimsuit and make Austin moan an unspoken plea. From the most tempting positions, the guy felt her breast hovering right by his temple, and longed to face-plant in what he could only imagine were magnificently swollen tatas.

Fortunately, she didn’t leave him to just blindly guess, and as the mystery dancer intimately turned herself to face him, her whole jiggly ass planted across his thighs and cloaked erection, she leaned into Austin, bringing her melons to him instead. Even after the preview from clutching her waist and feeling those buns swoop and grind about, the customer still couldn’t have conceived of just how immense this touch-happy woman’s rack was until he was experiencing it face-first. The blindfold pulled tighter over his eyes as the inner walls of her cleavage Pac-Manned Austin’s face, allowing him to descend far deeper than he would’ve ever expected was possible on a woman not weighing upwards of four hundred pounds. It was truly overwhelming, and though he couldn’t see her with his own eyes, the mental picture told him her tits were a bit on the larger side of his usual preferences.

Pure size could only go so far, at least when it came to boobs, and if he’d seen a lady with these obvious flesh-balloons hanging off her torso like horse saddlebags, he might’ve kept right on walking past, maybe with a chuckle in response to her cartoonish dimensions. Perhaps these were the reason she chose to cover his eyes in the first place. However, since she’d introduced herself to him in such a sultry manner, letting her ass greet his dick first, Austin found himself more amenable to her unusual build. She clearly knew exactly what she was doing, and since there were no frat brothers around here to mock him for getting so turned on by a mega-breasted whore, he decided he might as well get his money’s worth, especially since she had offered to let him get hands-on, and face-on, from the start.

So, with his head left to swim in enough chest flab to fill a fish tank, Austin began fondling his countenance into the rich supply of wobbly, elephantine, perfume-and-pheromone-drenched skin. The enclosure was damp and sticky with sweat, smelling faintly of sugary cherries as well, and with each pistoning bob of the woman’s behind, her breasts compressed back in around her chest-occupant’s face, before peeling back just enough to let him gulp down another muggy breath through the slit formed by the deepest point of the valley.