“Excellent, just what I wanted to know,” and with that, you hear a snap of fingers echoing around you, and suddenly you’re floating. Not weightlessly, like in space or the like, but more like you’re at the peak of an arc, being tossed high into the sky, while the world whizzes by around you, unseen except as a blurry impression of movement. Just as you feel you’re getting used to the weird sensation, the world decides to crash back down around you, dragging you into what feels like a long drop, before you find yourself abruptly halted by floor.
Groaning, more from surprise than from pain, you slowly work your body over, pulling joints and limbs into place as you’d landed in a tangled heap on what felt like cold tiles, your vision too blurred still to make anything out as you try to blink away the spots in your eyes. Rising, pushing yourself off the ground, you shake your body to loosen it, and then rub at your eyes, getting everything to come into sharp focus, which is good in that you know somewhat where you are, but bad in that that knowledge brings your brain up short, causing your thought process to stall for several minutes.
Around you is a home, or perhaps more like to say a palace. A marble column is set into a nearby wall, and a table that looked to have been possibly carved from diamond stands nearby, its surface reflecting the light from a nearby candle at odd angles, the dancing flame creating shapes and shadows that move like they’re alive. Further on you can see tapestries hung along the walls, showing scenes of what look like epic charges of massed cavalry, while others show horses receiving accolades from a tall white horse, that appears to have wings and a horn.
All of this would have been enough on its own to probably at least stun you for a moment, after all, just breathing in the air in the hallway you find yourself in is probably costing you more than you make in a month. But that’s not the worst of it. No the worst part of the vision of decadent wealth is how big it all is. Nearby, you can see the decorations along the wall, and estimate yourself to be barely an inch tall, and that’s far smaller than you normally are, a fact that your mind refuses to allow to parse correctly.
Then you’re forced to think of something else, as there’s a sudden explosion behind you, and your turn your head sharply to find the source, not yet jumping out of the way or running, as you really aren’t thinking straight. Of course, the explosion happens again, and this time, looking towards it, you hear the sound much more clearly. It’s not a blast, it’s a clack, so loud and power that it nearly blows you away. The source of the sound is lovely, in all truth, though, as it appears to be a small horse, a pony, with a long horn glowing slightly to provide more light, while it walks towards you.
Something about the stance and build makes you think, female, looking at her, as her delicate hooves clack against the hard, cold tile, and the grace of her movement, the fluid way her legs pull back into the air, then step down again, just speaks of femininity. Her form even looks delicate, despite her size, as she appears thin, but in the way of a model rather than sickly, with her coat shimmering in the light of her horn and the candles, her soft features thrown into sharp contrast by the flickering flames.
It takes your brain, still in safe mode, a few steps to realize that she’s growing larger in your vision as she grows closer. In fact, as your lean your head back, you fall on your bottom, only just realizing as you do so that she’s nearly right on top of you. then her left foreleg lifts, and the hoof, still looking like delicate ivory, hangs over you, before screaming down towards you out of the sky. Crying out in fear, your raise your arms above your head, as if that would somehow protect you, and firmly shut your eyes, expecting to be a smear in moments, and have no thoughts after.
When pressure enough to break a tank doesn’t fall on your tiny form, your slowly open your eyes, and nearly faint, as the hoof is hover above you, only an inch or two from your perspective. This gives you just enough time to appreciate how well manicured it is, without a single pockmark or blemish, before it is pulled away, and you find yourself looking into a pair of huge, liquid purple eyes, which blink in surprise at finding you beneath their hoof, before a pale purple glow from the horn suddenly covers your body, and you’re drawn off the floor, to stare at the face much closer.
“Oh, what is this?” says a voice with a cultured accent, sound powerful and slow, but somehow still very feminine, not bass and low like a male's.
“Uh, uh, uh,” you stammer out, your arms held at your side as she holds you in her...magic is the best way to describe it, the aura of it pressed tightly against you. Not painfully though, just like a firm mattress, holding you in place, but not restricting your breathing or the like in any way.
“Oh? You can talk?” she says, taking a moment to tap her hoof against her chin before suddenly brightening up, her forehooves clacking in front of her in a way that reminds you of a school child finding a shiny penny in the road.
“I know what you are. You’re one of those human things that everypony has been gossiping about,” she declares, and stunned once again, as this giant pony woman identifies herself, you can just nod in response.
“Such a pleasure to meet you, little one. Are you here to see Lord Fancy Pants? Or perhaps you’re here to meet myself, the lovely Fleur Dis Lee?” she says in that high society voice of her’s, pushing against her mane in a way to show off her face more, before giggling in a way this both feminine, and very, very cute.
“I uh, I don’t know,” you say at last, and she giggles again, holding her hoof to her mouth for a moment, before leaning forward, her face filling your view of the world.
“Oh, you don’t do you? Well, I suppose it is my lucky day then? I haven’t had a human to have fun with in ages. They all seem to appear around that Ponyville place,” she informs you, and then she licks her lips in a rather...well, it should be menacing, but given every other trait of her’s, she makes into something less threatening, and more inviting.
“Um, what are you going to do?” you ask, and she chuckles, a bit deeper than the giggles from before.
“Oh, just what comes naturally between humans and ponies,” she tells you, and then opens her mouth. The candle and magic light shine into the space, reflecting off the saliva moving around her mouth, giving the whole place a crystalline look to it. A flow of spit down her soft tongue, which wavered gently in the light, her teeth, looking more like pearls than molars, standing in hard contrast to it, and in the back, a quivering throat that seemed to swallow the light itself, resulting in a darkness behind that seemed total.
“Oh my-” you say, and then are shocked as your body is thrown, the magic surging forward and then releasing you. You land with a soft splat on the tongue, the oddly textured surface rubbing against your form, making you feel like you were being poked by a hundred fingers. Then everything was cast into darkness by the teeth meeting with a clack, what few rays of light getting through between them quickly cut off by the lips outside meeting with a sound like a kiss, and you are sealed inside Fleur’s hot, humid maw.
Before you can do much to protest the state, the tongue beneath you moves, its surface rising up beneath you, and pressing you against the roof of the mouth. Instantly, saliva begins to pool around you, drawing at your body and soaking your skin, hair, and clothes straight through. You try to cry out in surprise, but your instead get a mouthful of the stuff, as the slimy member itself cups around you, sealing the edges tightly, so the spit has more time to pull out your flavor, leaving you floating in a bubble of it.
You are released from it before you can drown with a strangled cough, the tongue dropping, and you following soon after as the spit sticking you to the roof of her mouth lets go, allowing you to land with a splash in a pool of the stuff beneath her tongue. Still trying to breath in, even as her own warm breath moves over you, you are smashed into the floor of her mouth by the tongue descending on top of you, forces once more beneath the surface of the spit pool, even as the deafening "MMM" sound starts to shake the world about you.
Released as the tongue rises, your body racked with coughing fits, you are blinded as the mouth opens like the door of a great tomb, light shining within and causing you to cry out as you cover your eyes, giving you little in the way of defense as the tongue once more comes beneath you, and then you are placed in the center of it. Blinking away spots for the second time, you look outside to find you’re staring at yourself, Fleur Dis Lee holding her jaw open so you can see your body sitting on her tongue.
“Heh, you seem to not be enjoying this as much as most. Do not worry, little one, the trip down is fun, from what I hear, and as with all such actions, you will come to no harm in my belly,” her voice assures you, coming not in words you hear, but in your mind, as her horn glows, and a similar shine appears around you head for an instant. When the jaws slowly shut, you don’t try to resist, somehow trusting in her words, as she gently closes her mouth, sealing you in again, though this time with a small light near you.
The tongue undulates beneath you, the muscles rippling like they were made of water and passing you backwards, slowly drawing you away from her teeth, and towards the back of her mouth. You pass beneath the unicorn’s uvula, a dangling bit of flesh above, then finally fall off the back of her tongue. Your descent is halted as the muscles in the walls around you catch your body, their soft, velvety texture grabbing you like a coat rather than the throat of some predator, and then you begin to descend.
Outside, Fleur swallows, a single, simple gulp sound echoing over the hall as she watches her neck. A bulge moves down it, squirming a little as the human fights slightly on instinct, as many did, and then it slips out of sight, vanishing into her chest, which tickles a little as it passes. Smiling, the unicorn licks her lips, enjoying the flavor on them from his body on her tongue, and then wonders if this was his first time. Smirking to herself at that thought, she wonders idly if she should use him again, once she burps him up in the morning, and then if he would consent to being part of her balanced breakfast. After being cleaned of course.