The Interrogation 3 (Chapter 3) (Patreon)

Sliding his hands out of her dress to instead grasp the handcuff bonds, the man forced Angelina to stumble backward until they reached his patrol car, at which point he forced her to sit on the hood. Naturally he had his hands back around her melons the first instant he could, and wasted no time in yanking the fabric down well-past the neckline’s intended level. It took some effort, fighting against the springy pressure of her lush milk-bags tucked so tightly inside, but once the majority of her breast flesh had sprung out, the rest came easily. A few dress seams creaked and snapped as they tore to compensate for the overwhelming volume of her nude boobs resting perkily atop the stretched-out black rim.

With Angelina’s cleavage now fully out to admire, the sheriff paused again, transfixed at their sheer enormity. Again his flashlight scoured her ballooned curves, revealing every little wrinkle, every freckle, and every slick of sweat near the central crevice, all of it marble-smooth and pasty as the rest of her elegant figure. The longer her breasts were left naked in the cold night, however, steadily inflating and deflating ever so slightly while Angelina’s breathing sped into panic, her perspiration-frosted skin bristled with goose bumps, the areolas narrowing to bumpy silver-dollar shapes while her nipples pricked up plumper and taller than ever.

Gasping as he reached for them again, relishing the gift he’d given himself in this uniquely one-sided scenario, the sheriff mashed both hands into the yielding plushness of both meaty sides. He watched the creamy buoyant flesh gently remolding like clay as his outspread fingers pressed it down, until the layer of outer flab nearly covered his digits entirely. Giving them a squeeze again, he then proceeded to shove and contort Angelina’s medicine-ball-like knockers in tandem as though he was polishing out blight, roughly massaging each hefty contour he could even partially fit his mitts around.

Angelina’s unpleasant experience was only going sourer. No part of the sheriff’s illegal intrusion was remotely acceptable, from the way he’d shoved her onto the hood of the car, to the abrasiveness of his touch, chafing at her nipples and pinching her wherever he pleased. When the man grew temporarily bored of pumping them like this, he withdrew just far enough to extend a curious pointer finger and poke the most generous flank of Angelina’s chest, where there was so much marshmallowy give to her flesh that his knuckles touched the rolls of freckled skin which threatened to cave in from either side. This act was especially unwelcome, since the sheriff’s determination to see just how hard he could stab his fingertip into her chest, like a sick science experiment, actually induced some pain that tapered into stinging soreness, even after the man snickered to himself again with a pubescent schoolboy’s attitude and retracted his finger, only to poke her in a new location. He took particular delight, it seemed, in sticking his thumb up the underside crack of her cleavage and jamming his hand completely between her blanched sacs, wrestling with the sticky compressed flesh at the center, now the only part still retaining heat, until his finger emerged from the top like a worm out of the ground. Throughout this violation, Angelina’s boobs quivered like a magnitude-8 earthquake was ripping across the county.

“Christ, I’ve never seen a pair like these. Holy hell. How do you even walk around without falling over when you’re sober?” the sheriff gawked. “And here I was just starting to resent getting the night shift this weekend and leaving the deputies behind. Shit, to think I would’ve missed out on this. On these. You can still feel this when I squeeze, can’t you? What about a poke? I mean, you gotta be able to feel, even though they’re big as my head. No, bigger. Look, there’s no need to give me the silent treatment here, all pissy and offended. The way I see it, you got yourself into this mess, stepping behind the wheel when you’re that loaded. Nice car, too, and it’s as good as scrapped now. Just as a courtesy to you, I’m gonna go ahead and recommend you keep my, well, more thorough pat-down methods to yourself, and don’t go yapping to my deputies or any lawyers or nobody. Believe me, I’ve always had my ways, and I see no reason to change them, especially when something this good is served up to me on a silver platter: You, drunk as fuck, with your big ol’ tits ready to pop out, and both of ‘em screaming touch meat everybody who walks by. Really, you can’t blame me for listening to their call, and appreciating art. That’s what these are, lady. You’ve got some art on you. Now, just hold still, like I said. The sooner I make sure there’s no contraband, the sooner we can talk about what kind of confinement you’re looking at back at the station.”

Angelina’s mind raced as fast as her heartrate now. She flinched and trembled each time the sheriff either grabbed hold of her titanic udders to squeeze like overgrown bike horns, or worse, prodded and pinched them with his busy fingers. This really was a personal low, a humiliation worse than any she’d gone through before, and it seemed likely the sheriff had no intentions of letting her go. If anything, he was going to hold Angelina’s obvious guilt over her head to wring plenty of groping opportunities for himself in the future. The way he played with her boobs, she could tell the sheriff saw her as little more than livestock, or a life-size toy for his perverted pleasure. Then, in a moment of soothing clarity similar to the one she’d had more than a year ago right before commandeering development on the chemistry that had blessed her with size-changing mother’s milk, she saw the way forward, and smiled again. Turning on the charm and slipping him a lactated mickey wasn’t going to work in this situation, for the first time in a long while, but Angelina still had tricks up her sleeves.

“Are you sure I couldn’t convince you to just let me off with a warning, Officer?” she cooed.

“Remember what I said about the right to remain silent, lady. You were doing so well,” the sheriff snorted, and responded to her expected insolence with an extra-hard jab on her nipple. “I’d quit while you’re ahead, if I was you.”

“I promise, anything I have to say would only help my case. I’m sure of that,” Angelina said. “I just wanted to ask… what you’re waiting for?”

“Excuse me?” The sheriff’s hands stopped in their tracks mid-clench, one cupped around some saggy under-boob, the other trailing lines around an areola and occasionally pressing to watch her nipple bob. Still, his curiosity was piqued.

“I mean that it’s not gentlemanly, especially for a distinguished man of the law, to tempt a lady with so much foreplay, get her warmed up, and not even taste the fruits of your labors.”

At this, the sheriff at last removed his sunglasses and hung them from his uniform collar. For the first time it was his turn to appear a bit lost, and seeing that flash of vulnerability, Angelina struck in a throaty purr:

“Give them a suck, Sheriff. You never know what I’ve got hidden in there.”