Drummer Boy - Down to Earth Ch. 03

Gents, ladies, we've got a lot to cover, so let's get to it. Enjoy!

6 Days Earlier

They all stood dumbfounded for a few moments, staring at Granny and her wad of cash.

Jason broke the silence. "Granny," he said, "where did you get all that money?"

"I surmised that it would be useful to our situation," Granny said, "and so I procured it. But I can return it if -"

"Let's not be hasty," Telly said, and reached out to grab the money from her.

Granny smacked his hand away. "Ow!" Telly yelped.

"This is for Jason," Granny said. She approached Jason and put the money in his palm, and then folded his fingers around it.

"And now," Granny announced, "I require repose, to replenish my energies."

"You should try the bed," Pearl said. "It's awesome!"

"I suppose I shall at that," Granny said. She exited the room, and they heard Jason's door click closed.

Telly looked at Jason and said, "Do I even wanna know?"

"The less, the better. Trust me," Jason said. He counted off five hundred dollars, peeled off the bills, and handed them to Telly. "That oughtta cover this month, plus utilities," he said.

"Thanks," Telly said. "And...?"

"Me and Pearl'll make an IKEA run today," Jason said.

"Cool," said Telly. "And...?"

"It might be a minute before I can replace 'game central'," Jason said. "But I promise you it's at the top of the list."

"Good enough for now," Telly said. "Well, almost," he added. "I could sure use some breakfast. There's that taco truck a few blocks down the street ..."

Jason handed him a twenty. "Get your grub on," he said.

Telly grinned broadly. "It's a beautiful morning!" he said. Tipping an imaginary hat to Pearl, he said, "Ma'am," and left the apartment.

Jason counted off the money left over in his hand. "Thirteen hundred," he said. "That's a lot of cheddar."

"Is it a lot of butter?" Pearl said.

"That too," Jason said. "Was this part of Granny's plan?"

"I guess so," Pearl said. "She said she was gonna make use of her talents as an ecdysiast."

Jason frowned. "What the hell does that mean?" he said.

"Beats me," Pearl said. "Let's go buy stuff!"

"Not so fast," Jason said. "I need to ask Granny where she got all this."

"Who cares?" Pearl said.

"Me!" Jason said. "What if she broke into a store, or a bank, or rolled some rich big shot?"

"That doesn't sound like Granny," Pearl said. "Actually, that's more my style."

Jason started toward the bedroom. "Well, I still wanna -" he said, but Pearl grabbed him by the bicep.

"Maybe you can't see it, but old girl is tired," Pearl said. "You thought she was cranky before, if you wake her up now she's liable to bite your head off."

Jason considered, wondering if Pearl meant it figuratively or literally. Either way, bad news.

"Fine," he said, "for now."

"That's the spirit!" Pearl said, and cuffed him on the shoulder. "Now, do they have butter at this IKEA place?"

* * *

Half an hour later they were in Jason's truck, making their way up I-35 through sluggish Saturday afternoon traffic.

Pearl, despite her initial enthusiasm, had been complaining almost the whole time. She'd complained about having to take a shower. She'd complained about not knowing how a shower worked. She'd complained that Jason wouldn't take a shower with her, even when Jason explained that that was just asking for trouble. She'd complained about the light blue sweatshirt that Jason had given her to wear, since it was the only clean thing of his that would make Pearl's big, braless boobs look decent rather than deviant.

And she was still at it.

"This is boring," Pearl said.

"Only way to get there," Jason said.

"There are too many other vehicles," Pearl said.

"Austin's a big city," Jason said. "Lotta people."

"This belt thing is uncomfortable," Pearl said.

"It can save your life," Jason said. "You'll get used to it."

"Not with these," Pearl said.

Jason couldn't help himself; he glanced over at Pearl. The seat belt flattened a diagonal line across her enormous breasts in a way that certainly could not have been comfortable.

Still ... lucky seat belt.

"Well, it's the law," Jason said. "You have to wear one if you're in a car."

"What about that guy?" Pearl said.

"He's on a motorcycle," Jason said.

"Then I want a motorcycle," Pearl said.

"God no," Jason said.

Normal humans on motorcycles were disruptive enough. Just the thought of the chaos Pearl could create with one was terrifying.

"You need a special license to drive a motorcycle," Jason said. "And you need two hands to control it."

"Anything's better than having to sit through this," Pearl gestured at the traffic, "and having to wear this," she tugged at the seat belt. "If I had my wings we'd be there in no time."

"Just chill," Jason said, "it's only a few more minutes."

Soon enough, they were pulling off the highway onto Westinghouse Drive, the exit that deposited them at the entrance to IKEA. The parking lot was buzzing with weekend shoppers. It took a few minutes to find a spot, during which Pearl fumed, and Jason pointedly ignored her fuming.

"It's quite large," Pearl said, once they had emerged from the truck.

"Believe it or not, this one's kinda dinky," Jason said. "There's one in Chicago that's ridonkulous."

"Is this like, one of your temples?" Pearl said. "I've heard that you people like your gods."

"Not per se," Jason said, "although some people treat it like one."

Upon entering, Jason grabbed one of the carts, designed specifically for hauling around the large items that the store was known for. He then got a sliver of paper and a tiny eraserless pencil from a kiosk. Pearl looked on apprehensively.

"Let's do this," Jason said.

"What are we doing?" Pearl said.

"Shopping," Jason said. "Just go with it."

While they walked, Jason filled her in on the routine. The arrows on the floor were a path for everyone to follow, with very little variation, which took them through all the departments of the store. When they got to the department he was looking for, he explained that what he was writing down was the model number of the thing he wanted.

"And then what?" Pearl said. "Do their slaves to bring the item to your dwelling?"

"They're 'employees', Pearl, not 'slaves'. And not unless you pay them," Jason said. "No, we get to the end, find the things and put them on the cart. Then we pay, load 'em in the truck and take 'em home."

Pearl raised an eyebrow. "It'll be hard to fit all the things you've chosen into your truck," she said.

"Well," Jason said, "we're just buying the kits. We'll put them together when we get home."

Pearl stared at him for a few seconds, her lips pursed into a smile.

"What?" Jason said.

Pearl let out a great wholloping laugh, drawing the attention of all the nearby shoppers. Jason blushed, and looked around guiltily. Pearl kept laughing.

"Pearl," Jason said after a bit. "Knock it off. You're making a scene."

Pearl tried unsuccessfully to knock it off, but it took a while. When she at last calmed down a little, Jason saw tears on her cheeks from laughter. She chuckled as she spoke.

"So you're saying," Pearl said between giggles, "that you have to travel very far to get to this place, where you push a little cart around through a maze, with other people doing the same thing, and write down wishes on a piece of a paper. Then you yourself have to get the things you wished for, pay someone else for them, carry them home, and then you have to put them together?"

"Yeah," Jason said, feeling a little stupid, having had it put to him like that.

"And you do it willingly!" Pearl said. This set her off again, and her renewed raucous laughter drew more unwanted attention.

"Pearl, come on," Jason said, looking around embarrassedly.

She recovered more quickly this time. "Okay, okay," Pearl said. "It's just ... I'm gonna have to try something like this with the humans back home. At least we actually call ours slaves."

"Try to contain yourself, Pearl," Jason said. "And knock it off with the slave talk, okay? It's kind of a sensitive topic."

Pearl nodded, but couldn't suppress the occasional chuckle as they made their way through the store. She was still smirking when they got to the end of the route, where the actual furniture kits were kept.

It was essentially a large warehouse, with tall shelves at regular intervals. Each shelf was numbered and lettered, stocked with rectangular boxes of various dimensions.

Pearl looked up and around, appraising the space. "Hmm," she said. "We could fit two, maybe three regiments in here."

"Good to know," Jason said. "We need E-5."

"Probably need to reinforce the ceiling, though," Pearl muttered absent-mindedly, following Jason.

Once they got to E-5, Jason put the cart aside, found the box he wanted, and slid it off the shelf. It was pretty heavy, and unwieldy to boot.

"A little help, Pearl?" Jason said.

Pearl was still looking around with intent studiousness, but turned to Jason when he spoke her name. "Hmm, oh," she said.

She walked over to Jason, gripped the box in her hand, and lifted it effortlessly above her head.

"On the cart?" she asked. Jason nodded. Pearl placed the long, flat box on its end onto the cart.

"I forgot how strong you are," Jason said.

"Me too," Pearl said. "Can we live here?"

"What? No," Jason said. "It's a store."

"It would make an exceptional fort," Pearl said. "And plenty of space for lab work."

"Yeah, I guess," Jason said. "Um, can you get this one over here?"

Distracted as she was with her own thoughts, Pearl was quite compliant as Jason directed her to grab the heavy boxes that comprised the remainder of the furniture. He marveled at the fact that she was doing this, with almost no effort, and with only one arm. How much raw strength had been in play when she and Granny had fought?

And, more concerning, how much had he siphoned from her when they'd been fucking yesterday? Enough to hurt her, to be sure. He'd been so encompassed by the passion, by the intense fury of it all, he hadn't noticed. He began to really understand Granny's warnings now: there was no way that a mere human body could contain all that power and not just ... break.

Jason shook his head to clear away the uncomfortable thoughts. "Okay ... coffee table, entertainment center, and two tables, check, check, check," he said. "Let's get out of here."

They made their way to the checkout aisles, where they had to wait in line to make their purchase. Jason listened with irritation to the Top 40 music that blared over the loudspeakers, punctuated every so often by store advertisements and announcements.

Justin Timberlake's "Can't Stop the Feeling" began, and Jason groaned. "Jeez," he said. "Why do people even like this guy?" he said, looking at Pearl.

"Hmm?" Pearl said. Jason realized that she hadn't said anything at all during their wait, seemingly lost in contemplation of the architecture about her.

"Nothing," Jason said, taking comfort that she wasn't complaining or making a scene.

Or not a much of one anyway. She was still getting a lot of attention, from men and women alike. Even "covered up" as she was, she was still turning heads.

When it was their turn the cashier scanned their items, Jason paid her, and they were on their way. Fortunately, Pearl didn't seem to notice the fast food for sale near the exits, or they'd have been there all day.

Outside, he said, "Stay here with the cart, okay? I'll be right back with the truck."

Pearl nodded. He walked to where he'd parked, and a couple of minutes later he was backing up in front of Pearl.

Before he could get out, Pearl was thunking the boxes into the truck bed. Several people nearby watched, dumbfounded, as the statuesque brunette with enormous breasts accomplished in one minute, single-handedly, the task that that they were struggling to finish in teams of two and three.

"There," Pearl said. "We can go now."

"Yeah, we'd better," Jason said, clutching the keys that he hadn't had time to put back in his pocket. "Before we attract even more attention."

"What did I do wrong this time?" Pearl said, hopping into the passenger seat and buckling herself in.

"Not wrong, really," Jason said. "Just ... try to be a little more discreet with your strength."

Pearl rolled her eyes. "On my world strength is something to be lauded," she said. "Are you humans so weak that the slightest hint of power makes you jealous?"

"Nah, we like strength," Jason said. "We just frown on showing off."

"Oh, that's not true," Pearl said. She smirked. "A lot of the people in there liked what I was showing off."

"That's for damn sure," Jason said. "But that's different. If word got around about you one-handing those boxes like toys, we might get more attention than we can handle."

"And you'd rather be the one handling my ... attention?" Pearl said. She then futzed with her seat belt, nominally for a better fit across her bosom, but in actuality using the opportunity to grope her tits for Jason's benefit.

Jason's "attention" was throbbing mightily in his jeans. He couldn't stop staring, enraptured by the sight of Pearl kneading and squeezing her big, captivating breasts through the fabric of her sweatshirt.

"It's okay to look, Jason," Pearl said with a seductive glint in her eyes. "I like your attention. Just think of this as a preview. A preview of what I'm going to give you. Of what you're going to get. Very soon."

Good lord, this was going to be a hard ride home.

* * *

They didn't, however, go directly home. On their way back south, Pearl suddenly squealed in delight.

"Look look look LOOK!" Pearl said, pointing emphatically at a billboard on the side of the road.

Jason looked. It was a billboard for Culver's, proudly proclaiming itself as the home of the original...

"Butterburger," Jason said. "It's not what you think, Pearl."

"It says 'butter'," Pearl said. "That's good enough for me! Let's go there. Let's go let's go let's go!"

"Alright, jeez, calm down," Jason said. He signaled for the exit. "I could use some lunch too."

As soon as they parked, Pearl, seemingly unable to contain herself, hopped out of the truck and headed to the entrance. "Come on, Jason!" she said. "I want it now!"

"I think you've found your tramp stamp," Jason said, locking the truck and following Pearl.

Inside, Pearl stood for a second, surveying the line of half a dozen people ahead of them. She was about to charge to the front when Jason grabbed her arm.

"We have to wait our turn," Jason said.

"But we're so close!" Pearl said. "And it smells so good!"

"Just be patient," Jason said. "It won't be long."

It wasn't long at all, as the counter folks were moving people along quickly. Nonetheless, Pearl couldn't stop bouncing in place. Like, literally bouncing with glee as if she were a little kid.

But Pearl was a grown and plentifully-formed woman, and her breasts jostled and jiggled, shimmied and shook, taking on a life of their own, describing motions undreamt of in the physics of lesser mammaries. Most top-heavy women avoided vigorous physical activity, since boobs bouncing around with such abandon tended to cause a considerable amount of discomfort, even pain. Pearl didn't seem to care, shaking her boobs around the way a happy dog shakes its tail.

Jason wasn't gonna say a damn thing about it. Yeah, he was hard and horny as fuck right now. Yeah, everyone, but everyone, in the restaurant was watching the show. And yeah, this was inappropriate on so many levels.

But ... damn. Those big titties were just too good to miss.

When it was their turn, the apprehensive cashier called out "Next!" Pearl leaped up to the counter.

"I want your butterburger!" Pearl said.

"Um. Okay," the cashier said. Then she asked, "You want the combo or just the sandwich?"

"The one with more butter," Pearl said.

The cashier raised a puzzled eyebrow. Jason stepped up the counter.

"Let's get a number 2, and a number 4, regular size," Jason said.

"Butter?" Pearl said.

"We'll get some, I promise," Jason said.

Jason completed the order, paid the lady and got their ticket and two empty cups. "Go sit at that empty table," he said to Pearl. "I'll get you a Pepsi."

"And don't forget - "

"As if I could," Jason said.

Jason got their drinks, some salt and ketchup, and a handful of butter packets. He went to the table and deposited the drinks and condiments before Pearl.

"Is that all they have?" Pearl said.

"It's enough for now," Jason said. "What is it with you and butter?"

"It just tastes really good," Pearl said. "And it's all slippery and melty in my mouth. It's fun." She pulled the plastic off of one of the little tubs, and after a moment's consideration, licked it straight out with her deft pink tongue.

"Mmm," Pearl said, rolling the glob of butter around her mouth with her eyes closed, before swallowing it down. Jason watched, with an open mouth and a rock-hard dick, as she undertook the action with great sensual pleasure. He felt an overwhelming desire to fill her mouth with some of his own hot, slippery butter.

She repeated the performance with another tub, and then another, each time displaying her lingual dexterity and subsequent delight, with Jason at full attention.

"This tastes different," Pearl said, before starting on the fourth tub.

"Huh?" Jason said, interrupting his remembrance of the other things he knew that tongue could do. "Oh ... it's probably because that's actually margarine instead of butter. It's a butter substitute."

"Why not use the real thing?" Pearl said, undeterred and licking the margarine free of its container.

"Butter's more expensive," Jason said, "and harder to spread, and some people think it's not healthy."

"Those people are fools," Pearl said. "This will certainly do for now, but I am going to require actual butter before the day is out."

"That's our number," Jason said. "Don't move. I'll be right back."

"Butter," Pearl reminded him, while ripping the top off another tub.

Jason returned with the tray of burgers and crinkle-cut fries, and another handful of the butter tubs. He felt a little guilty about taking so many, since he knew that some schlub would have to refill them, but weighed against the wrath of a thwarted Pearl, he figured this was a net win.

Pearl watched idly as Jason salted his fries and put ketchup on his burger. She took a break from eating the fake butter to wolf down her fries, and then contemplated her hamburger.

Pearl asked Jason, "It this the butterburger?"

Chewing, Jason nodded.

She lifted the top of the bun. "There's no butter in it," she said.

Jason swallowed. "Then put some on," he said.

Jason realized a second too late that this was probably not the wisest suggestion. Using her finger, Pearl scooped out seven or so packets of margarine onto the beef patty. By the time she was done, her hand was a slick mess, and the mound of butter had started to melt from the residual heat of the burger.

She slapped the top of the bun back on and admired her handiwork. "Is this how it's done?" she said.

"Not usually," Jason said, "but, hey, you do you."

Pearl smiled wickedly. "I'd rather do you," she said. She lifted the now-literal butterburger to her mouth and opened very wide.

When Pearl bit into the hamburger, the still-congealed margarine floofed out from the sides. A big glob fell off and landed with a soft plop on the tray below.

Melted, oily liquids, margarine mixed in with the grease, oozed freely from the sandwich. Most of it coated her hand, and began running a languid trek down her arm. A fair amount spread across her mouth and chin, giving her lower face an oily sheen. The remaining droplets didn't make it to the tray though; they were interrupted by the prominent shelf of Pearl's expansive bosom.