The young Buizel's eyes darted back and forth as he shoved berry after berry into his mouth. He knew he wasn't supposed to wander into this neck of the woods, or stray too far from his native river in general, but by that same logic he knew that nobody that could recognize him would be here either. Still, he was ever-wary of predators. Satisfied and believing himself to be in the clear, he finished off the berries with a couple of big swallows. 

	“Fuck are you doin'?” Before he knew it, a huge black paw had emerged from the bush right in front of him and grabbed hold of his shoulder. In a blur of leaves and grey fur, a Pangoro suddenly towered over the weasel Pokémon. “You tryin'a make off with some of MY lunch?”

	“I-I'm sorry!” the Buizel managed to stammer out, having been knocked on his butt in shock and trembling with fear as the larger Pokémon glared down at him.

	“Hey, I asked you a question, y'little brat! Those ARE my berries all over your face, right!?”

	“Y-y-yes...”

	“Well then, y'know what that means, don'tcha?” The larger Pokémon grinned.

	“Um... No...” The Buizel sniffled as the first of his tears escaped him. He froze up, wide-eyed, when an entirely different fluid suddenly joined them on his face – a long drop of saliva slipped out from between the Pangoro's spread lips. Before he could react, both of the Pangoro's paws were wrapped around his comparatively tiny frame, binding his arms and lifting him closer to the source of the drool. A blast of hot breath forced him to flinch as the panda's teeth parted to speak.

	“It means, I'm takin' 'em back.” The Buizel didn't dare reopen his eyes, now fully comprehending his fate. Instead, he shut them even tighter as the Pangoro's tongue made full contact. The wet appendage took slow, deliberate drags from the bottom of the weasel's chin to his mouth, fully soaking the orange fur with spit. The smaller Pokémon, in his panicked breaths, couldn't help but take whiff after whiff of his captor's, which smelled of the same berries he stole. He even caught a similar taste each time that tongue briefly met his lips. In fact, despite his fear, he was beginning to question this assault on the area around his mouth when the larger Pokémon suddenly broke contact.

	“Yer a messy eater, y'know that?” The Buizel slowly opened his eyes, realizing that, while his mouth and chin felt even stickier than before, they had been licked utterly clean of the juice from the berries. He was allowed a brief wave of relief; was that really all the Pangoro wanted? But the panda's grip on the weasel's body did not relent, nor did his toothy grin.

	Before the Buizel could bring himself to speak, he was silenced again by the Pangoro's tongue, which now forced its way between his lips. The small Pokémon's eyes shot open – as far as he knew, the Pangoro was kissing him, which was shocking enough on its own, but something about it wasn't quite right either. The panda didn't bother moving his lips at all, instead poking and prodding around the Buizel's mouth with his tongue. He soon realized that this was just a continuation of the Pangoro's earlier acts, each lick thoroughly cleaning off a part of his small mouth. Whatever bit of his meal that the large Pokémon was able to take back was rapidly being replaced with a greater volume of berry-tinted saliva. As gross as the Buizel found it, shutting his eyes tight and even gagging periodically, he was forced to allow some to pool in the back of his mouth and trickle down his throat, the liquid having nowhere else to go. Gradually, though, that tongue worked its way toward the back of the boy's own, forcing him to sputter and cough against his captor's lips. 

	For a moment, the Pangoro appeared satisfied, mercifully withdrawing his tongue and breaking their “kiss”. A thick rope of drool held fast between the two Pokémon's mouths even as the Buizel was allowed a brief coughing fit. When he finally opened his eyes, his worst fears were realized all over again; he now stared directly into the panda's huge, wide-open maw. Before he knew it, he was being pulled in.

	“Wait, please! Stop-” But his pleas fell on deaf ears, abruptly silenced when the large Pokémon's jaws clamped down just below the neck. Whatever else the boy had to say was muffled against the tight, hot, moist grasp of the panda's mouth and tongue. His panic and the heat of his prison setting in, the weasel opened his mouth to gasp for air, but the Pangoro's tongue thrust inside to deny him even that. He could still feel the grip of his captor's paws as he was pulled even further back, the Buizel's tiny maw and throat now fully impaled on that broad tongue. As hard as he might have tried, the weasel couldn't speak or even gag through the assault; the last of his freedom was now being violated by the thrusting, twisting muscle. That sensation, combined with the heat and lack of air inside the larger mouth, quickly proved too much for the small Pokémon to handle. As his consciousness started to slip away, he felt his final bit of reprieve as the Pangoro withdrew his tongue and repositioned it below his victim's chin and neck.

	The Buizel was briefly jolted back to reality by a sudden thud, the result of the Pangoro sitting down to enjoy his meal. Slowly, the grip on the Pokémon's small body shifted lower, and his head was pushed further past the tongue and deeper into his captor's maw. Even with the great difference in size between the two Pokémon, it was slow going; it took the Pangoro almost a full minute to shove the combined width of the Buizel's body and both arms past his teeth. By that point, the weasel had already seen the last of the panda's mouth as he slowly slid headfirst down his gullet. Surrounded by darkness and the wet, rippling walls of the Pangoro's throat, the young Pokémon could only cower and sob as his paws slid past the teeth and felt the pressure of the tongue pushing him on his way to being fully swallowed. The strong, unrelenting muscles in the larger Pokémon's body worked with the force of gravity to keep his meal moving, squeezing and all the way down to his stomach. 

	The Buizel could barely feel himself reaching his destination, the last of his consciousness fading fast. As small as he was, he still proved a tight fit, and remained noticeable as an extra inch or two on the Pangoro's already sizeable belly. Were the Buizel still awake, he could have felt the prodding of the panda's paws as he massaged that gut of his, trying to get comfortable with this new bit of fat. Finally, the Pangoro flopped onto his back, setting his belly in a jiggling motion before letting the satisfaction from his latest meal carry him off to sleep.