The Interrogation 4 (Chapter 7)

“What the fuck?” Tim squealed. He recoiled, as the erotic submission he’d just shown was flipped on its head to abject terror. Now with the benefit of sight again, he looked between leviathan Angelina’s exposed breasts and then his own miniaturized self, spotting the streaks of dribbled milk splattered Jackson Pollock-style around the hefty inner flanks of those hyper-inflated sacs. Similar blotches were flecked across his nudity, he now realized too, like a messy baby that hadn’t quite mastered feeding yet. “Jesus fucking Christ, what the SHIT! RANDY! Randy, HELP! HELP M-”

The little frat boy’s squeals for aid were cut off when Angelina, grasping her right breast between both hands and kneading the supple pastiness like hard clay until it softened to a malleable state, literally fell on top of him. By propping one gelatinous oblong mass just so before tipping, she was able to aim her milk-primed nipple straight for the boy’s conveniently wide-open yapper.

“W-What… what the fuck’s going on?” Randy blurted, snapping his eyes open again. Upon seeing his shrunken friend on the bed, and the milk trickling in forked snow-white pathways down the woman’s hulking chest, he began to seize with horror in his seat, though the cuffs still didn’t allow Randy to do more than kick, with his unfortunately erect hardware still out in the open. “Oh, shit, oh, fuck! What did you DO? He’s a midget! Tim! TIM, HOLY SHIT! DON’T!”

Tumbling for the bed wasn’t hard at all when Angelina was still recalibrating her system to maintain drunken balance, and it was quite comfortable to have her descent blunted not only by the rubbery bumper-pads of her own chest, but a dwarfish college man’s shrunken head. His cries were instantly muted to grave silence by the vibration-absorbing bulk of quashy boob-fat molding like a giant muffin top over his face, just like what occurred when Angelina leaned over her knees, though Tim found this latest demonstration far less sexy, especially when his foolishly parted jaws were soon plugged with a beefy nipple just one pulsation away from squirting a full glass of milk into his gullet. The panicked boy did more than just pull the trigger, though, but self-defensively bit down on Angelina’s teat. Not only did this delight the sweaty half-buzzed assaulter and tickle her pink, but it unleashed the waiting tide of dairy from her deep mammary storage, spurting into his tiny jaws with the force of a super-soaker gun.

Much like a carnival game clown-face, complete with his little belly like an inflatable pocket, Angelina’s pinpoint milk-shooting made a bullseye down Tim’s throat, and all he could do was writhe while she filled him up for points. As lactation was steadily drained from her plumped motherly shape, the scale and pound-for-pound mass of Angelina’s breast lessened ever so slightly, though it made little difference to her victim when Tim was continuing to shrink even faster than that, making it seem like her boob was only enlarging further on top of him. As the seconds passed with muffled gargling and useless squirming against an unbeatable ceiling of rounded flesh, more of the frat boy’s body vanished under the cover of Angelina’s goods, until he was no taller than twelve inches.

At this point, the woman either showed mercy, or more likely chose to halt while there was still enough of him to work with, and laboriously pushed herself off the bed and Tim. Her ascent took more than one try, as she not only had to contend with the spine-testing ballast of her tits, but the disorientation of pitching forward while sauced, which resulted in stumbling back into a half-prone position at the foot of the bed and heavily concussing her under-boob dweller.

Laughing, Angelina took a seat to catch her breath, and grasped the corner post for support. Then, just as mini-Tim was left desperately hacking for relief, mopping the deadly beverage off his face and trying to take air back into his shriveled lungs, he found his efforts in vain again when Angelina’s slender fingers coiled around his shoulders and neck like a royal scepter, and plucked him off the wet sheets. With her dairy deluge still dripping down his naked doll-sized body like a bukkake party gone awry, the woman held Tim’s shrunken form in front of her opposite boob. Both boys went silent, though the smaller between them had no choice, as one of them was effectively held at gunpoint, while the other was kept in chains.

“I’d call that a good start,” Angelina cooed, wrapping her thumb over Tim’s throat. She dangled him just far enough over her knee that his legs could pointlessly windmill for purchase like a hangman trying to find a support before letting the noose win, but she also ensured his floundering lips were never less than an inch from the eager pricked-up stump of her maternally engorged nipple. “I hope you boys don’t mind a woman who plays rough, do you?”

“W-What… what the fuck did you d-do to him?” Randy croaked, sounding on the verge of nervous tears.

“Is it… really not obvious to both of you?” Angelina chuckled with an intrigued frown. She looked with confusion between Randy and the barely-conscious purple-faced twelve-incher hanging from her fist like the obedient milk-puppet he’d become, then shrugged. Every time she tried to underestimate the intelligence in this kind of prey, it still wasn’t sufficient. “Boys tend to experience some shrinkage around me, especially after trying a little of my proprietary formula. No, not that sort of shrinkage, I’m glad to report. Don’t you worry a lick about those happy peckers of yours. In fact, I’ve even found libidos are raised after taking a good long drink, just like this one here, Tim isn’t it? Actually, you’re probably more of a “Timmy” now. Timmy’s taken to it quite well, and I think so will you.”

“M-Me? But I d-didn’t drink any of your f-fucking… wh-” Randy sputtered, though after giving his own body another once-over, did realize something was off. His hands, while still unable to slip out of his shackles, had more wiggle room, as he’d lost at least a foot of height. “Holy SHIT! What! H-How… how did you-”

“Really, did you boys never learn at college? Never let someone else pour your drinks, especially a stranger? In fact, you’re not supposed to go home with strangers, either. Just imagine how disappointed your parents would be if they were here to see you forgetting all these basic childhood lessons,” Angelina said, winking as realization of his spiked drink washed over Randy. “Like you said, sugar. Rich is cool.”

“W-Why are you… DOING this… to us?” Tim wheezed as Angelina relented her clenched finger just enough to keep him awake. “W-We… didn’t… say anything.”

“And we said w-we were sorry for what happened,” Randy wheedled. “P-Please-”

“Oh, hush now. Yes, you did apologize, and to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t have even bothered with you boys if I knew where the others went instead. That’s why you’re going to help me, and in return, you can both make your exit much less painful,” Angelina interrupted, rolling her eyes. She nuzzled Tim’s face back to her nipple, using his nose to press the fattened brown nub and launch a fresh dribble. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to tell me where… let’s see, what were those god-awful names again… Chad, Kyle, Austin, and Logan went… we can wrap this up good and clean.”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Tim peeped, though he was loathe to reply with more than a squeak, as Angelina was using his face every few seconds to pump another white cream-globule from the duct, which continually risked flushing more libation down his airways. “Please… don’t… do… this!”

“I t-think I know where they w-were going,” Randy stammered, though he did his best to maintain some authoritative calm, despite his handcuffed limbs, awkwardly displayed erection, and sub-five-foot frame. He frowned, thinking through each word. “But… first you g-gotta unlock these, and let us both go, okay?”

“FUCK… YOU, Randy! Just… TELL her… before she-” Tim raged in a shrunken high-pitch, though his protest was stunted into glugs when the next nipple face-mash left him with two cheeks full of udder juice, and as Angelina was blocking his lips with the menacingly aroused knob of her teat again, he had no choice but to swallow his medicine or otherwise choke. Suddenly the little thing was left at eight inches, flailing even more fruitlessly in Angelina’s unforgiving grasp. This time the raven-haired giantess didn’t uncork her victim’s mouth, though, but kept his squeaking lips full of nipple bulge like a gimp’s ball gag, ready to inflate him with more milk at a moment’s notice.

“You might want to take his advice, honey,” Angelina sweetly advised her goggle-eyed prisoner, who was gawking at her chest for the first time without sex on his mind, or at least not primarily. “Timmy here looks like he’s chugged a couple kegs in his day, but that still won’t be enough to keep him from giving out, if you take too long.”

“W-Wait, what are you g-going to do to them all if I t-tell you?” Randy asked.