The Interrogation (Chapter 11) (Patreon)

“Nonsense. I asked for your help, Deputy, and I’m on the mend already, even though I’m still worse for wear after the Sheriff’s… tactics. You’ve been very kind," Angelina said. "The only way you could be kinder, really is if I was set free already, given that I was guilty of nothing more than swerving to avoid a deer. But, you have your duty.”

“Oh, is… that what happened?”

“Of course. Do I look like a woman who could be guilty of more?” she perkily replied, then without skipping a beat, lowered her voice to a sultry drawl: “Have you ever touched a woman’s breast before today, Deputy Owens?”

This question was almost enough to make the man fall flat on his back, but he remained anchored in place due to his now-numb arm locked in the embrace of Angelina’s chest, the bloated spare-tire fat of her heavy sacs holding him tighter than even the handcuffs could’ve. Nevertheless his youthful face reacted like she’d slapped him, his cheeks turning almost as pasty as the wondrously thick boobs tethering him to her.

“W-What? I… I d-don’t think-”

“I’m sorry if that’s too personal a question. I didn’t mean to poke fun. It’s just… you’re so shy, I get the impression you’ve never laid hands on the goods, let alone gone to third base or home. Which is surprising.”

“R-Really?” he peeped, seemingly confused at his own continued speech. “Why’s… t-that?”

“Well, your sweetness and thoughtfulness, for one thing, but also the uniform. Personally, I’ve always been a sucker for a man in uniform. Are you a sucker for anything, Deputy Owens?”

“I…” The scrawny fellow looked ready to choke on air.

“It’s all right. You don’t have to tell me your secret if you don’t want to. But, since you’ve already gotten to know me so well in a certain way, out of medical necessity of course, I feel comfortable with you already. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“P-Protecting and serving is my job, ma’am,” he mustered. The pale shock in his face had now flushed cherry in the intervening seconds. His arm was trembling again, but not out of fearful resistance this time. One glance over the side of the cot from Angelina told her the newbie’s biology was more than ready to “serve” if not protect.

“And you’re marvelous at it,” Angelina cooed. “Would you give them a rub, sweetie?”

“What?”

“Just to work the cream in. And because a boy’s first time touching a pair of boobs is special, and I’d hate to think you didn’t get the full experience. What would you say, Deputy, if I told you to open that pretty mouth and suck my tits until you milked yourself?”

All this while, Angelina had been repositioning herself on the cot, leaning in closer and closer to the deputy, while he only receded to a deeper bow, until he was cowering below her eyeline. Simultaneously, she’d altered the angle of her rack, squishing them flatter and pinning Owens’ limb harder in place, all while ensuring both nipples were now pointed squarely at his face. The compression of gravity, Angelina’s torso, and the deputy’s thin arm taking space in the fleshy slit all contributed to a pearl-like bead of white liquid forming at the duct of her nipple, though the funny little fool’s enraptured attention was too fixated on the motion of her enchanted red lips to notice it. At the moment of the prisoner’s crazed proposition, then, the deputy’s jaw dropped to its lowest point in bewilderment, practically coming unhinged, which provided the best target yet, and Angelina took her shot.

Balling her fist, she socked the upper shelf of her breast until the paunch yielded nearly up to her wrist. Her already-compacted tit blubber squished to its thinnest spread yet, and with nowhere else to hold the payload, generous jet-streams of milk spat from both nipples, directly into the deputy’s mouth. Given that Owens was already inadvertently playing limbo in too-late subconscious effort to both escape from and bask in Angelina’s milf-tastic glory, his head was thrown back, and thus most of the cheek-filling froth had shot straight down his throat before he had the chance to sputter.

By then she’d landed so much in his mouth, it was pouring down his chin. Naturally the deputy did his best to hack the excess out, but with his arm still secured in the very same breastfeeding tits blasting his esophagus with bubbly milk, dire open-mouthed coughing just made him an easy target for a second helping. Angelina was only too happy to provide that by slapping her chest again and this time latching on for a long squeeze, scoring another bullseye on the deputy by rigorously pumping her teat. With one more shoulder-popping effort, Owens yanked his arm out of the boob-vice and landed hard on his back, which made sure a full mouthful of milk shot down his gullet.

Once finished retching and wiping the splash-zone milk from his eyes, the deputy lookup at a far more imposing Angelina, who now resembled a towering succubus, even though all she’d done was pluck and tidy up the shredded threads hanging limply over her nakedness. Owens’ lactation-splattered uniform draped around him like a loose sail, and for several moments he could only make google-eyes and flap his lips without speaking, giving himself whiplash while gazing swiftly between the beguiling amazon-height seductress still resting coyly on her side, and his own undeniably diminished body.

“I’m afraid that outfit’s going to be just a little too big for you now, sweet-pea,” Angelina chuckled. She swept her legs back to the floor, pinning down the empty legs of the deputy’s slacks beneath her feet and locked eyes with the two-and-a-half-foot-tall rookie while milk continued dribbling down his chin. “Then again, that was probably the case already, huh? Look, I hate to say it, Deputy, but the people around here already saw you as the little tyke, and they likely were always going to. Now you’re just a size that’s better suited to their view of you. It’s more honest that way, if you think about it. I don’t want you to go believing that’s a bad thing, though. Some boys… most boys, deep down… are just natural betas, and they were unlucky enough to choose the wrong life. You, for example, might’ve been better suited in a much different field, or maybe a different time altogether. I could see you in ancient Egypt, waving palm fronds over your queen. My point, I suppose, is that you shouldn’t feel bad just because you’re too sweet for your own good. I’m almost ashamed I have to get past you, Deputy. But it’s to your advantage that you made a good impression, because now I’m going to make sure it doesn’t hurt at all when I give you your last bit of medicine.”

Owens yelped as Angelina stood. He tried to scramble back, but found it impossible to stand while a woman more than double his height stood on his pants, but after some pathetic flailing, managed to crawl out of his lower garments, backing away toward the bars in a goofily oversized shirt. The little man looked up with supreme horror the likes of which he’d never known as Angelina arched to her full intimidating stature to strut toward him. After she arose, the last of the strings on her poorly sized outfit finally snapped, and the jumpsuit rags hung around the raven-haired mastermind’s eye-poppingly supple assets like a cape.

“H-How… how did you…” he peeped.

“Let’s just say these girls are more expensive than they look,” Angelina replied, coyly tracing a wide figure-eight path around both rock-hard nipples with a manicured pinky fingernail. She raised an eyebrow, giggling as Owens’ back hit the cage wall. He grasped for the door, but the inmate was too quick, closing the distance and snatching the bars before it could swing. “Try to look on the bright side, Deputy. You crossed a very major point off your bucket list before your bucket kicked tonight, and again, just to show my appreciation for making this SO easy, I’m going to let you double-checkmark that milestone before we say goodbye and I take my leave of your crummy shit-hole town. I hope you’re still thirsty, though. You certainly were greedy on that first taste.”

“S-Stay back!” the deputy whined in a higher pitch than even his shrinkage could explain, stumbling to his knees. He was still pointlessly struggling with the door, and after it became clear Angelina’s fist wasn’t budging from the latch, he tried to stumble back toward his belt, including his radio, littered beside his pants, but the prisoner easily blocked him with a slender feminine leg slammed in his path like a javelin. “Ma’am, you’ve got to understand what you’re doing here. This is assault of an officer while in custody. You’re going to double whatever time behind bars they give you. For your own good, surrender! You are… under… arrest!”

Angelina had to guffaw aloud at this, which she didn’t do often. After seducing, breastfeeding, and toying with so many shrunken men, and having seen a full tapestry of reactions from blind rage to faint-worthy shock to weeping terror and even begrudging arousal, she thought she’d seen every possible form of surprise, until this adorable little dweeb. He was… actually still trying to do his job. He almost didn’t seem angry. The sheriff before him, by contrast, was so confident in his ability to make Angelina into his personal jail-slut that he’d taunted her even after shrinking, and just before gullibly sucking down a creamy jetstream from the opposite teat. But little Deputy Owens was still playing by the book, even with his body compressed to the size of a toddler, cowering in the shade of the twin moons of Angelina’s blinding-white milk sacs.

“Are you sure, Deputy? Because I certainly don’t feel under arrest. Not anymore. No, I’m afraid you’re the only one who’s under anything, between the two of us,” Angelina kindly retorted. She gave her tremulous rack another bounce against the door as she leaned far over the tiny officer, her long tresses hanging in dark cataracts while the full might of gravity on her nearly-vertical tits made the blubbery masses sag to their most elongated forms. Letting go of the bars, the woman instead grabbed hold of her nipples, each already beading with pearl-drops, and aimed them again at the half-dressed two-footer. “Choose which side you like best and open wide. It’s the least I can do.”

Then Deputy Owens gave Angelina a surprise greater than any of the other injustices or failed ruses of this dreadful night. With her talons no longer clasped to the exit, the little man ceased quivering and genuflecting, and launched himself at the bars. Before his gigantic “prisoner” knew it, the pint-sized fellow had slipped through the door and waddled away down the hall, encumbered by his milk-sopped shirt and tears.

“Oh, I knew there was something special about you, sugar-plum,” Angelina purred.

Something indecipherable crackled from Owens’ radio, but it went ignored. Instead she sauntered after the deputy, moving briskly enough to close the distance, but not sprinting either, so it wouldn’t suggest she was worried, because of course she wasn’t. True, the guy was currently doing a better job of avoiding his inevitable lactose-intolerant fate than most of her nightly one-time playmates, but Owens was still just a pitiful spineless runt scared of his own shadow, and that was even before she’d made him drink a single drop of her frothy elixir.

Past the holding cells and the booking area, Angelina poked her head back into the bullpen, staring across a sea of desks and countertops that the shrunken officer could easily hide behind. They were still alone in the dead-silent night, however, which meant that despite his less-than-halved stature, the deputy’s scampering was easily heard by his pursuer, especially once she followed the direction of the pattering and noticed a trail of milk droplets shining on the floor like bread crumbs, leading the witch right to her Hansel.

“Ready or not, here I come!” Angelina announced as she stalked his zig-zagging pattern between the desks, tramping over each telltale white splotch on the ground as she went. After crossing the room thrice with no clear pattern, and giggling to herself at how loopy the panicked deputy had been driven, Angelina followed the milk dots down a blacked-out hallway, past the coffee maker and the offices of Sheriff Williams and then Sheriff Pullman, who was presumably the cranky gray coot who’d proven immune to her charms, and who was certain to be a serious thorn in her side if she didn’t wrap things up here soon.

With those stakes remembered, Angelina picked up the pace, and halted round the corner at the maintenance closet, with the newbie nowhere to be seen. The dairy trail had ended, but it didn’t take detective work for the topless hunter to kick open the door and discover Deputy Owens fetally balled and sobbing in the corner.