(Pokemon pred. Old female supporting pred. Male supporting pred. Vore. Disposal. Trample. Cruelty)
The mature giant female smiles grimaces as she looks at you. "Hmmm..." She brings you up to her nose and gives you a bit of a sniff. "Well...smells clean at least..." She says as she eyes you over. She fixates on your underwear and smiles a gentle smile before forcing them off. "How strange. Why would you even need that, little one? Did you escape from a toy store or something?" She asks , casually poking at your bits. "Ah well. no matter. She sighs before heading to a trashcan and tossing your undies in. The Furfrou follows behind her, the female canine poking her head towards you, trying to get in a few sniffs or even a lick, but never succeeding.
The socialite lifts you back up in front of her face before suddenly squeezing a pair of fingers around your stomach and back with brutal force, forcing a squeak out of you. "well at least you can squeak. Come on, might as well..."She steps over to a waiter. "waiter, waiter, is this one of your?" She inquires. The waiter, a handsome young brunette in a nice suit, eyes you for a moment before shaking his head. "No ma'am." "well...could you prep him nice and proper for my darling Fluer?" "Why, certainly, but we can't guarantee that the meal will meet our quality..." "Oh nonsense. I am sure she will be fine. It is only natural that she should be allowed to sup on him, anyway. Just add it to the check." "Very well...how shall we prepare it?" "Croissant Au Petit. Alive, please." And with that, you are delivered into the skilled hands of the water.
You are quickly carried over to a sink basin, your struggles be damned. The waiter doesn't even seem to notice that you are fully aware that you're about to be served as some living bon bon to a giant dog. Or perhaps he is aware, and is merely so adept at handling smallfolk that he finds your struggles beneath notice. With expert care you are rinsed clean, dried off with a paper towel, and set down in a small cage beside a large cutting board. The waiter smiles at you and pets at the cage bars. "Don't ya worry little guy. I'm gonna make you great. You might not be one of our own, but you're gonna make a dog very happy today."
As it turns out, the waiter who serves food here evidently helps prep it as well. He calls out an order to another employee, and you're left in the cage for about ten minutes, until the waiter returns with an enormous croissant, with a hole notably cut into the front. Steam emerges from the freshly cut opening. The waiter at last frees you from your cage and quickly grabs you before you can run, then empties out a pack of sauce onto you and stuffs you into the painfully hot croissant's interior. He finishes this grueling process by forcing your mouth open and stuffing it full of cheese. "And there we go! Now you might not be accustomed to the rules around here. Live tinies like you are free to try to escape. That's part of the fun! Ok....let's get you to your patron!"
And with that, you are set onto a plate and carried back to the main area. The socialite claps her hands as the waiter arrives. "ohhh. It looks fabulous. So very fancy. Come, Fleur! Mommy's got a gift for you." She says . The waiter smiles before setting the plate down on the floor, and the socialite pulls back her seat, intently watching as the Furfrou approaches. All you can see of the woman now is her sandaled feet.
Fleur the Furfrou look at you with a skeptical expression. When she caught you, you were completely free to move as you will. A fair challenge. But as you are now, you can barely struggle. And struggle you do! You writhe around against the tight layers of cooked dough around you, unable to force your arms into a useful position for pulling yourself to freedom. You kick your feet against the bottom, but make little headway there either. KTHOOM KTHOOOM. Her forepaws smash down to either side of you, and she lowers her enormous muzzle down towards you. You let out muffled cries and turn your head left and right, only managing to catch a glimpse of the brown leather shoes of the waiter as he too takes a gander at you and the 'patron' you are serving. You begin to hear something far more ominous than the KTHOOMs from earlier. SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF as the Furfrou takes in every bit of your scent! For an agonizing few seconds you are left to wait as she sizes up your value of the meal and you're left to pray for the off chance that she won't eat you.
The Furfrou suddenly lunges forward and laps at you with her yucky, smelly, saliva-coated tongue. Evidently she likes what she smelled. She growls happily the moment she pulls back her tongue, leaving you to groan and wince at the thick layer of saliva mixing in with the marinade around you. A moment later she lunges forward again, this time yanking the cheese out of your mouth, devouring it, and promptly proceeding to frantically lap at your head. You scream as she slams one of her paws down onto the croissant, hitting your back hard in the process, and mashes her teeth carefully around your head in an attempt to pull you loose. Alas, she is unable to yank you free. Realizing that she won't be able to conveniently pull you loose, she settles down and lies down beside the plate, leaving a paw atop the croissant and relaxing as she settles in to what might be a decently long meal.
The Furfrou calmly and gently gnaws on your head. Never enough to decapitate you or crush your skull, but enough to make your life a constant hell of fangs and slobber and dog breath. The socialite smiles at the sight and briefly records the spectacle on her phone camera before putting the phone away and chit-chatting with a tourist about two decades her junior. On and on the conversation goes, and no one dares lift a finger to help you. All you can do is squirm and squirm and hope that you can free yourself up enough to get out when the Furfrou finally diverts her attention away.
Sure enough, you make some headway. Realizing this, Fleur once more clamps down hard and grinds her forepaw against the croissant in an attempt to pull you loose. No luck . She only succeeds in earning an adorable scream from the toy. She gives up tugging you free and sits up for a moment , earning a pet from her owner. "Aw, such a sweet girl! I hope you're enjoying your meal!" She coos, earning a happy yip from the canine, who once more lies down and plays with her meal
At last realizing that she won't be able to wrest you free from the croissant, the Furfrou bats at the meal to turn it, then proceeds to slam her teeth around the length of the bread. She crunch and munches at it, smashing her pawpad hard on it as she begins to tear chunks off of the bread. It will only be a matter of time, now, before she once more has free access to her little tiny treat. She growls happily as she dines upon the bread, finding it to be jut as tasty as the human, albeit its flavor is far different. Far less meaty. As she dines on the wonderful croissant, she spots your arm and proceeds to nibble and crunch at it, crippling it in the process, but managing to leave it intact.
This trend continues as she dines upon the croissant au petit, breaking away more and more of it to reveal more and more of the tiny , whose struggles continue going strong despite the bite marks that are starting to accrue across its body. Eventually she manages to break loose a wide opening at the bottom of the croissant, freeing the tiny' legs in its entirety. She quickly pins the croissant gently beneath her paw to hold it in place, then yanks the tiny free. Success! Not wanting to kill him just yet, Fleur begins to play with her meal, while lying ever calm at her owner's side. She trample upon it with her paws. One paw. Both paws at once. One paw again. Her paws smash down at every spot she can find, earning the most wondrous of SQUEAKS and crunches with every stomp. She grips it between her teeth and flails the hell out of it. She tramples it some more. She licks at it purely to savor its struggles. But alas, those soon give way. It is clear the has visited her playful dominance over every bit of the tiny treat's body and made it her own. With one final bite she flings the tiny into the air.
By miscalculation she sends the creature not into the maw, but onto the tabletop. The Socialite looks at the slobber soaked human in awe before brushing him clean and dangling him by his ankle over her pet "Look what mommy found! Your little friend again! Would you like him? You would? Here you go!" Her last chance to save you, and she instead drops you down over the dog's waiting maw. Fleur quickly slams her fangs around you, gives you some final chomps, then sweeps you into her belly.
You lie within the belly of the enormous Furfrou, her stomach groans drowning out the sound of your own little groans of anguish. You lift one of your arm up and grip at a soggy piece of half digested croissant, not even sure why you're clinging for it. Moment slater an avalanche of croissant mush collapses upon you, pinning your weakened form down and leaving you to lie helpless within the belly. For her part, Fleur simply relaxes on the floor, digesting you into oblivion soon after she leaves the store.
Early the next day , Fleur wakes from her rest and heads over to a fake fire hydrant stationed among a patch of grass in the garden. She squats down, hovering her derriere right before the red plaything. She turns her head to the side and squints as she pushes a semi-firm mass of mess out onto the grass below, the remains of her tiny prey barely visible among the waste.
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