Pearl swiveled her blobby head back to it’s original position and procured another foodstuff from thin air, this time a triple-patty hamburger, and gulped it down in one bite, her beady eyes never leaving the blank T.V screen, expecting it to turn on.
Marc, not wanting to leave a bad impression on her new mistress, even if all she could presently think about at this time was eating more food, scrambled to get the television on as fast as possible. He shimmied up one of the legs of the table that held up the analogue, cathode tube box of a television, a skill he had gained after years of adapting to anthro sized furniture, and pressed the whole weight of his body on the power button.
The dated television monitor sprang to life. At first, there was nothing but static, and than the image cleared along with the sound. The semi-familiar sound of the discovery channel logo playing elicited a relieved sigh from Marc. His first task for his new mistress had been done. However, Pearl was not impressed, or at least, she didn’t show it. Instead she gave a wet burp and blinked, noticing that the T.V has been turned on.
“Good.” Pearl commented. And after that, besides the noise spewing forth from the ancient electronics speakers, there was silence. Marc expected his new mistress to give him new directions, or show him where he would be sleeping for the night, or even just acknowledge that he was alive. But no, Pearl was completely unresponsive save for eating, burping, and blinking.
Nervously, Marc slided down the table leg and walked towards the base of the couch, where he could scarcely make out Pearl’s bloated legs under her perfect sphere of a stomach. With nothing to do and deciding it would be wise to wait for her close by, he took his seat on the floor, and proceeded to watch Shark Week.
After several minutes going by of uninterrupted discovery channel, the channel went for commercial, and Pearl turned her head down again to get a good view of her new human servant. “Hey, what are you doing down there?”.
“Oh! I was just watching T.V with you...should I...should I not do that?” Marc gulped as Pearl’s emotionless eyes gazed at him.
For a brief moment, Marc thought he saw his new mistress break face, the ends of her mouth creeping up for an amused smile. But than it was filled with a whole cake that met it’s demise as quickly as it appeared. “You can watch T.V, but not on the floor.”
“...alright. Where should I-?” Marc began to ask Pearl where exactly he should sit, but cut himself off as, what he could only guess were her arms under all of that greasy lard, came down and picked him around his sides. And before he could even ask what she was doing, Pearl had deposited his body next to her on the couch.
But there was only one problem with that. Pearl, with her immense size and girth, took up all of the couch alone. What could only be described as ‘next to her’ was the tiny sliver of sidearm that wasn't engulfed by her thigh flab. The moment she let go of Marc, he was almost instantly wedged between her and the side of the couch itself. Thankfully, her flab was too soft to crush him beyond some uncomfortable seating arrangements, but the thin layer of sweat around her body made it difficult to squeeze himself out without risking falling deeper.
“So…” Marc began, trying to break the pregnant silence with some polite small talk. “Why do you like to eat so much, Mistress Pearl?”
“Because food tastes good.” Peal replied after swallowing yet another foodstuff before procuring another. “And I’m hungry.”
“How many Human servant’s have you had before?” Marc tried to make banter again. And it was also important to know where Pearl lied on the ratio of him surviving this stunt.
“Actually, you’re my first.” Pearl confessed, before giving out another burp. “I always wanted a Human around, just to be there, you know. Humans are a lot better than anthros.”
“I-I’m very sorry, Mistress Pearl. Could you repeat that please?” Marc wanted to make sure that he had heard her correctly, or as correctly as possible with one of his ears smothered in Orca blubber.
“I said Humans are better than anthros.” Pearl actually broker her stare with the stream of infomercials on the television monitor to actually look at what little Marc was un-squished. “Anthros think that they are better than everyone. They get cocky thinking that they have the world’s best body, the strongest or the fattest or stuff like that. And than they digest in some other Anthros gut and they become just like them. I like Humans. They don’t try to pull the wool over your eyes with showy lights. You see a Human, that’s what your gonna get. You see an Anthro, there hiding something.”
Marc, who honestly did not think Pearl was capable of saying so many words in a sentence, was struck dumbfounded as he was smooshed a tad more into the couch as she shifted herself. He had been under the employ of many Anthros over the years, and almost all of them were now dead. Fighters came and went on a daily basis, but Pearl seemed to be the only one who wasn't infatuated by it’s high risk lifestyle. She really was here just for food.
“And In case you're wondering: No, I’m not going to eat you.” Pearl move her gaze back to the T.V and popper a fistful of potato chips into her mouth. “Your too small to even be a light snack...plus your kinda cute.”
Well, Pearl really wasn't one for subtlety, that was for sure.
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