The Interrogation 3 (Chapter 5) (Patreon)

Angelina was fully aware the man couldn’t breathe, naturally, and hummed to herself while enjoying the feeling of the undersized man struggling for close to a full minute. He had no hope of getting out, of course, and even flailing his little arms and swatting the outer flanks of pearly white skin, the most he could manage was causing the twins to waver and ripple with each pointless slap; his weapons, conveniently, were out of reach on his half-fallen belt. The woman doubted he could endure much longer without passing out or even suffocating, but she wasn’t in the mood to let him off easy either. Often the boys she hunted in bars were disposed of relatively painlessly, since most were at least nice enough to provide her some fun before their milk-induced demises, but this asshole was different. It would be too simple to snuff him out just like that. This one deserved to be savored.

She took her sweet time, then, in arching her back and at last relinquishing some of the immense, suffocating pressure off the ridiculous little perv’s highly-squishable head. This was partly owed to the fact that Angelina couldn’t use her hands to push off the ground, requiring her to lift the full bloated weight of her tits up against the influence of gravity while disturbing the comfortable resting place her twins had settled into around his lumpy head, in strangely natural fashion. Even when she’d leaned back enough to remove the weight of her torso from the shrunken sheriff, her breasts themselves still took a few extra seconds to completely unsag from atop the man’s skull like two tightly coiled springs.

As soon as he had the room to gasp again outside the taut slit of that cleavage, Sheriff Williams coughed and sputtered. His face was beet-red now, particularly in a pair of rounded geometric imprints that came together on both halves of his head like a Venn diagram, where his detainee’s rack had rested so cozily until everything below them nearly compressed shut. Even with mostly-unrestricted airflow now, the little man didn’t seem to be getting in any good recovery breaths, somewhat due to his out-of-shape frame, but also because Angelina was strategically digging her knees into the sides of his torso now, applying pressure until he couldn’t help but lie tense and helpless between her ghost-white thighs and the hanging folds of her dress.

“Well, that was tricky to back out of, wasn’t it? A shame, really. See, I’d have just loved to have the use of my hands still. I probably could’ve gotten you out of there a little sooner! But, you’ll just have to live with it, I suppose, since someone, who shall remain nameless, was rude enough to trap my hands behind my back. I know, how thoughtless could someone be, right?” Angelina tittered, once again kneeling tall above the officer. “Now, I don’t mean to seem pushy… though, I imagine pushy is exactly your type… but, you can’t expect me to remain in suspense here. My stomach is just full of butterflies. So tell me. How was it getting precisely what you wished for, Officer?”

“Fuck… you!” he huffed, still deeply out of breath. Now with more room to operate, the sheriff tried to reach for his weapons again, though his belt had slid partway down his legs due to his diminished frame, which meant his attempt was handily blocked by the thick twin pillars of Angelina’s thighs clamped astride him.

“Ah-tah-tah. I don’t think so…” she tsked, instantly tightening the chokehold of her legs around his ribs. “I’m just trying to have a conversation here with you, Officer, so I’m not sure why you want so badly to let your toys do the talking for you. Now, let’s try this again, shall we…”

Giving her silky black locks a stylish toss over her shoulder, the woman smiled, winked, then plunged down upon him again like a jungle cat preparing to feast after a long hunt. The sheriff screeched, naturally, throwing his pitiful little hands up in knowing anticipation now of just how much damage those bulging babies could do, especially when they were launched at such a high speed. The man was in luck this time, or relatively so, as Angelina wasn’t aiming to bury his head under boob flab, but instead ensured that the mushy valley came to rest square over his neck, allowing the man’s shrunken head to pop comically out over the top of her hanging milkbags like a collar. Williams’ defensively raised limbs went up in time to block his head, technically, but that only allowed his hands to be pinned effortlessly under the oncoming mass, right down against his collar bone.

Sweating profusely, and struggling in vain to free his arms without unsocketing his shoulders, the sheriff realized that if Angelina rolled her breasts forward just a little closer, further encroaching on his face again, which would invariably force the miniaturized man’s crossed arms closer around his windpipe, she could probably choke him unconscious by combination of his own clumsy body and the hulking compression of those freckled balloons. As it was, the weight of her pliable tit flesh alone was probably sufficient to cut off his thinning air supply, the cellulite molding over his quivering Adam’s apple.

Angelina seemed to notice the precariousness of their position too, judging by the hedonism of her grin as she looked down upon him over the swollen pillows of her chest, temporarily misshapen while they were ground down over the man’s only means of breathing. This time the unlikely pair locked gazes, given that the sheriff was no longer smothered so directly under the biggest tits he’d ever laid eyes or lips on, though he tried to look anywhere else at first, gripped as he was by terror as well as boob-volume, but eventually it was impossible to ignore Angelina’s imperious glare. So he looked back, trembling more than ever from fear, rage, and of course the weight-related strain of those hooters gradually paling as they crushed the last dregs of air from his throat. Soon Sheriff Williams’ face went from ruddy-red to white, and then a hint of asphyxiating blue.

“Why don’t you take another drink, Officer?” Angelina slurred. She shimmied her shoulders, causing her floppy bosom to alternately inflate and then depress again, burdening the sheriff’s face even more ruthlessly. When she was through, both her aroused nipples were pointed at the man’s jawline, just within tonguing distance if he put in some effort. “You seem like you’re in serious need of an after-work drink to let off some of this steam I’m sensing from you. The second round is on me, though. All you have to do is say bottoms-up and drink it down.”

“NO! G-Get… off… of… m-m… m…” The sheriff choked out his protest, seemingly using up the last of his immediate oxygen reserves and flushing some red briefly back into his tiny cheeks, but was unable to get the last word out. His every tremor caused Angelina’s chest to wiggle with the same jelly-like fervor, though despite their motion at the slightest whiny provocation, the twins still held fast over the guy’s neck.

“Apologies, Officer, but I can’t quite understand what you’re saying. You’ll have to speak more clearly,” she said. “Maybe your throat is just too dry to form words. That must be it. Like I was saying before, I’m sure another sip would do you wonders. You know, wet the whistle.”

“I’m g-gonna… I’m gonna k-kill you for this!” the little man hissed, though despite the seriousness of his words, sounded like a petulant child losing a wrestling match to a schoolyard bully. “I’m gonna-”

“Oooh… some friendly advice, little one, I’d be very very careful how I picked my next words, if I was you,” Angelina warned with a comforting lilt. “Also, you might consider using fewer words, and concentrate on breathing instead, or you’re bound to knock yourself out. So make it count.”

“I d-don’t know… what the… what the fuck you did to me, b-but you won’t make me… smaller again. Under… stand?”

“Now, what makes you think I plan on making you smaller? All I said was you should have another drink. On the house.”

“I’m… not… stupid-”

“Well, that’s debatable…”

“-I saw what those… mutant freak-bags did to me before!”

“Come now, Officer. Really, I seem to recall it was you who approached me. Can I help it that once the fun started, you couldn’t handle yourself? I took you for a man into the kinky side of life, seeing how you put me in handcuffs before you enjoyed the merchandise,” Angelina sighed, still playing up the coy politeness act, before everything changed at once, her posture becoming more aggressive and her smirk flipping to a sneer. Even her timbre dropped, becoming a snarl: “All right, listen close, you little asshole. I’m perfectly aware that you shrank after you had a drink… that’s why I invited you to try it, after all… but seeing how I’m not going to be able to leave this rotting shit pile of a town until you uncuff me and give me a ride to somewhere I can get a single bar of reception, I’m not planning on taking any more of your height. If you drink from the other side instead this time, you’ll grow back to normal just as quickly as you shrank. Just get it over with so this whole goddamned thing can end, all right?”