The Interrogation 3 (Chapter 7) (Patreon)

“Oh… my… God. Too… good. I really did hit the jackpot tonight, didn’t I, Officer? I do believe… good lord… I do believe the search for the stupidest cretin to ever lust after my gifts is finally over. Because… oh, you’re going to laugh when you hear this, too… you are officially the very first idiot to ever fall for that dumb trick. I swear, I’ve tried that a dozen times, just on the very slim chance it would work, and it never does, so I always end up having to spike a drink or tie them up and pour the rest down their throats myself,” Angelina explained, unable to help herself from giggling in between syllables. “Honestly, the opposite side makes you grow? Like a fast food ice cream dispenser that squirts different flavors? Do I just look like a machine to you, you foolish little sack of shit? Wow, I have to say, this almost makes up for all the irritation you’ve caused me this evening. Seriously, it really does take the cake. Now, unfortunately, especially since you made such a big show of telling me what a bright future I had in store if I grew you back, I’m afraid I won’t be returning you to full size, but instead will be doing this county a favor by disposing of you. Though if it makes you feel any better, there wasn’t ever a way to grow back. I never bothered to develop one when I had the… augmentation done. Waste of time. Hopefully that’s of some reassurance. Now, do me a favor and hold still so I can finally get some peace and quiet…”

The sheriff, about to pass out from shock, mustered enough survival instinct to overcome his own slovenliness, and pulled himself up to run. Jogging across the uneven terrain of his abandoned uniform was tricky work, especially with the approaching shadow of Angelina’s torso lengthening behind him as the giggling giantess rolled herself after him to give chase. Her tits lurched in midair, the bulbous shadows swinging like heavy pendulums, and at the top of the arc, where her breasts were suspended so high she almost could’ve rested her cheek against them, they smacked into the ground. Either Sheriff Williams had more speed in his shrunken body than she’d calculated, or Angelina was merely toying with him, but either way he just barely avoided getting flattened to a grisly splat under the unforgiving heft of those twin sacs.

Still, her deadly cleavage had missed him by only an inch, and the windy force of Angelina’s natural-unnatural gifts impacting the ground sent the feather-weight officer flying through the air. He landed a couple feet away right beside one of the deep mudded tread marks carved by his mysterious detainee’s out-of-control vehicle, where even if he wasn’t too panged by the hard landing to move immediately, the mucky ground would’ve stuck him fast to the earth anyway like a fly in amber.

“Oh, hell, this really is going to challenge me a little, isn’t it? Normally I’ve got my hands free to tame the girls, but… I’m sure we’ll make do. Nothing wrong with letting loose now and again. Just try not to move too much,” Angelina said. “I’ve been meaning to try out this trick anyhow, and you’re just fat, lazy, and stupid enough to be useful for it.”

With that, she repositioned herself, albeit awkwardly with her arms bound behind her back, until she was propped up on her immaculate boobs, with the fleshy spigots pointed ahead. By squinting to steady her inebriated aim, and adjusting herself inch by calculated inch, subtly pushing her assets together, so both her nipples were aimed squarely for the sheriff, the drunken giant found just the right spot. Like a sniper squeezing off the kill-shot from a hilltop, she took a deep breath, and with sheer anatomic will, clenched her chest. The overinflated twins swelled, freckled skin tightening and veins briefly darkening, then released in jiggled unison, causing two healthy spurts of snow-white dairy to fire from the tips.

Both creamy streams hit their target dead-on. Long before Sheriff Williams had the chance to pull himself up, let alone dumbly attempt fleeing again, he was struck by the dual barrel-blasts of Angelina’s frothing milk. As though he’d been staring into the maw of a fire hydrant at the moment it burst, the relentless forces of motherly liquid pushed him backward in the blink of an eye, right into one of the deeper tire treads. Angelina didn’t let up once she’d successfully knocked her shrunken detractor into the mud divot like a carnival game, either, but took a deep breath and launched another tactical milk strike at her soaked victim when he was already gasping.

Soon the hole in the ground was filling with bubbling whiteness, intermingled with swirling dirt, and floundering at the center was the naked miniaturized sheriff coughing for relief. He’d already lost a little more height just from trying to breathe through the rich lactose while floating back to the surface. The man tried to swim for the edge, but in the confusion, pain, and terror of all he’d experienced in the last wild minute alone, he couldn’t even tell which way would take him toward safety, and by then Angelina had already wormed her way over to him, blocking his path to flight with the bulging walls of her malformed breasts. Ordinarily he might’ve laughed at the absurd sight of the topless middle-aged witch lugging her over-plump saddlebags through the mud, squirming out of breath with dark strands of hair matted to her sweaty forehead, but it was hard to find humor in the image when the woman was not only an absolute titan to him now, but looming triumphantly above while he tried not to dwindle into nothingness in a makeshift kiddie pool of her own lactated poison.

“Wow, you must really regret not just driving on past like nothing happened, huh, Officer?” Angelina chuckled. She wiggled her frame, pushing herself closer over the flooded tire tread, until no light could reach the little man bobbing in her milk soup. Her face was hardly visible to him up past the swollen barricade of her enormous chest now, but her giddy volume made up for that. “I mean really, how simple would it have been to just ignore this? Hell, even if you were a decent person, someone who deserves to go on living… which, obvious you’re not… you could’ve just driven on once you saw I was all right. And if you were feeling especially charitable, I probably would’ve left you alone if you’d given me a ride back to the station and just kept this little indiscretion between us. Yes, just think about that now, while you’re trying not to drown in four inches of libations sweeter than anything you ever sucked out of your backwater country mama. Seriously, since you’ll be deceased very soon, you might as well try to at least enjoy the flavors. All natural. Well, mostly. I’m told it’s quite enjoyable, and God knows it should be, given all the money I poured into the project from my poor idiotic departed ex-husband’s bank accounts. The point I suppose is, though I doubt that little skull of yours is capable of understanding anything but blind rage now, you should try to understand that all this silliness could’ve been avoided, if only you weren’t such a slimy perverted shit-stain. But, nobody’s perfect. Now let’s see how long you can hold your breath…”