And dessert.

Grant's awoken by a soft throat-clearing that startles him from his sleep. For a moment, he doesn't know where he is, in an unfamiliar bed and a strange room. Then he sees the sun through the window, just crossing the horizon, and remembers. Sitting up slowly, he turns to look toward the door.

Jaz is there, an affectionate smile on her face. "Dinner is ready, Grant. If you are."

For a second he just stares at her. Jasmine returns his gaze evenly for a second, then blushes slightly and glances away. It's...real. The experiences of the last...what is it, eight hours?...feel like they must be some sort of dream. But there's this woman he's never seen before today summoning him to dinner and blushing when he so much as holds eye contact with her. "I don't...I don't know you," he finds himself murmuring.

She meets his gaze again and smiles gently. "Well, we've got our whole lives to figure that out."

He lets out a shaky laugh. "I guess so...thanks, Jaz. I'll be there in a second." She nods and withdraws, leaving him alone. Grant sighs and scrubs his hands over his face, taking a few seconds to collect himself. All right. I'm the...the leader of a...bunch of women, now. I'm going to be someone important in this...new world. I can do this. I can do this. Taking a deep breath, he heads out to dinner with his companions.

Dinner is, once again, a surprisingly familial affair. The women seem to have sorted their seating out in order of...acquisition, for the most part. Grant is placed at the head of the table, with Mary at his right hand and Olivia at his left. Jaz sits next to Mary, Amanda next to Olivia, and Mel and Lily next to each of them. Abby is left at the most distant corner of the table from Grant, and he notices that her ankle's been handcuffed to the table leg. They're not taking any chances, huh...

Despite that ominous sign, dinner goes smoothly and uneventfully; while the women pay close attention to Grant, they mostly let him chat with whomever he wishes, talking among themselves when not engaged. Near the end of the meal Lily does clear her throat to get his attention, some of the table falling silent as she leans forward to speak around Olivia. "So, Grant, I've been wondering...about my girlfriend?"

"Oh?" Grant takes another forkful of food, regarding her warily. "What about her?"

"Well, it's just that she's been texting me. She's still unclaimed, and she wants us to get together for safety." Lily chews her lip. "It...really would be nice to see her again. Do you think we could lure her here so you could claim her too? That way you get an extra girl, and I get to spend time with her."

Grant stares. "You want me to claim your girlfriend? Do you think she'd want that?"

"Oh, no, definitely not. But she'd be very down with it once you did!" Lily says with a laugh. "Probably even more than I am. I mean, she was the bi girl in this relationship, so she's at least interested in men generally."

"And you don't feel...bi? Now?"

"Nah, not at all." She shakes her head. "I'm a lesbian. With, you know. One specific, good-looking exception." She winks.

Grant sighs. On the one hand...we could use the help. On the other...I don't like using people's relationships like this. It feels...gross. "Can you maybe...put her off for another day or so? Just so I have some time to think it over?"

Lily nods. "Of course! I'll just tell her it's too dangerous to move around outside right now. Honestly probably true, at least for her." She pulls out her phone and begins to type. "Please do think about claiming her, though. I kinda miss her - we're going through a lot, and it'd be nice to have her around."

"Of course."

"Well, it looks like everyone's pretty much done," Mary says, glancing around the table. "Ladies, why don't we clear the table. Then, I think, time for that plan I gave you all earlier." Most of the women smile as they stand and begin to gather the plates.

"Plan?" Grant asks, baffled.

"Just a little something I came up with...a prelude to our outing tonight," Mary says with a little laugh. When he raises a questioning eyebrow at her, she smiles. "I think you'll like it. Trust me? Please?" She lifts his hand and kisses it, and as she looks down at him with warm dark eyes, Grant's heart melts a little. He nods. "Good. You just stay in that chair, Grant. Let us do what we're gonna do."

Fifteen minutes later, the table is clear and Grant is alone in the dark. Mary had returned a few minutes ago with a silk eye mask she slipped over his eyes, whispering, "Trust me" into his ear. And Grant does - so deeply that he hasn't questioned where she got the eye mask, moved from his chair, or even tried to adjust it. When he finally hears a rustle and feels a hand - Mary's? - guiding him up from the chair, he follows her and allows himself to be led from his chair and out of the room. She leads him into another room - the den, he thinks? - and they slowly shuffle through it until she turns him in place and gently pushes him backward. He feels a soft, solid surface behind him and sinks down into the large, plush armchair. He can sense the presence of more bodies in the room: faintly hear breath, the rustle of movement, sense a certain charge in the air. He feels Mary come and hover in front of him.

"All right," she says, slightly breathlessly. "You can take off the mask." Grant pulls the silk off his eyes carefully and blinks as his eyes adjust. Then his jaw drops, his heart leaping into his mouth.

The room's lights have been dimmed to a warm, amber glow, giving the den a sultry feeling. Mary stands before him, dressed in an exquisite floral robe - and nearly nothing else. The long garment covers most of her body, sleeves falling to her wrists and train draping to the floor. The robe itself, though, is made of a sheer, gauzy material that clings to Mary's curves and reveals her skin beneath it. His eyes, unbidden, follow the swell of her breast through the fabric. Her skin is tantalizingly revealed but strategically hidden behind a delicate, riotous embroidery of flowers and vines that traces over the robe, giving the impression that he's glimpsing her naked, illicit, through a garden. His eyes trace down her exposed cleavage to the burgundy silk belt that closes the robe, taunting him with its knot. He's pretty sure that she's wearing a matching pair of panties, but even as he looks Mary, smiling, steps to one side and his jaw drops further.

In the lowered conversation pit that dominates the room, Grant's women stand in two rows. They face an open aisle in the center: Olivia, Amanda, and Lily on one side, Mel and Jaz on the other. Each is scantily clad in a different enticing fashion, and Grant feels his cock - already aroused - stiffen fully. The women have clearly been instructed not to turn their heads, simply facing one another in their positions, though several of them are eyeing him sidelong and smiling slightly. Mary drops gracefully to her knees at the edge of the pit, head bowed submissively, and extends one hand toward it in invitation. "Please, master," she says. "Your women beg you to consider us."

Grant, moving as though in a daze, stands and descends into the conversation pit. Each woman seems tantalizing. Olivia wears a shiny red mini bra and thong that are somehow more revealing than her bikini, just triangles of fabric held in place by straps. Amanda and Mel each have on a lace bodysuit: Amanda's burgundy, accentuating her curves and her full breasts, while Mel's is in white and gives her a virginal look as she squirms slightly under his gaze. Jaz is wearing an unfussy but elegant set of green silken bra and panties under a sheer black robe, the simple design letting the clean lines of her body take center stage. And Lily, on the opposite ****, is clad in a clearly BDSM outfit that seems to consist entirely of leather straps, even her "bra" leaving her breasts exposed and her nipples covered in small pasties. Grant feels his blood rushing in his ears as he drinks in the sight of each of these beautiful women, submissive and available to them. Then, getting to the end of the line, he's brought up short.

Abby is there, crouched in such a low kneeling position he didn't register her presence at first. She's completely nude, bound in soft-looking ropes, and as she looks up at him a tear rolls down her cheek. Two ropes form a crude bit gag, tied around her head; more accentuate her small, perky breasts, tied around her torso and binding her hands behind her, while her legs are tightly bound into this kneeling posture. The girl moans and struggles slightly, but it's clear she can't move at all from her position. She's entirely at his mercy.

Grant clears his throat, glancing back at Mary. "What...what's Abby doing here?"

Mary keeps her gaze on the ground, still kneeling, as she replies in a subdued tone. "She gave me attitude earlier, and I thought it would be best to remind her of her place here. I know you promised not to claim her, but she's still a woman under your roof...and you're entitled to anything she has to offer. You can claim her if you want. Or just...use her. If that's what you want." Grant feels Amanda, by his side, shift slightly, but she doesn't say or do anything.

Grant looks back at Abby. The girl's stopped struggling, panting slightly, her soft, pale breasts trembling and her pink nipples hard and pointed in the dim light. His hand twitches involuntarily, as if it wants of its own volition to reach out and cup her breasts, hear her moan and feel her squirm as he thumbs those nipples. Pinch them as she writhes, helpless, below him.

But he doesn't.

"Untie her," he orders Jaz. As the woman moves silently to obey, Grant turns back to Mary. "Let's...leave Abby out of this sort of thing, huh? I'm not going back on my promise, and I'm not going to...do that to her."

"Of course." Mary's gaze is still lowered, but he can see the ghost of a smile on her lips. "I wasn't sure what you would want, so thought it best to be...inclusive. But I'm glad to hear this is your choice. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"No. No, you didn't offend me, this is...amazing," Grant says with a shaky laugh. "I'm just not going to...yeah."

"Th-Thank you," Abby whispers hoarsely. Untied, she remains kneeling, though now she has one arm covering her breasts and she looks away, blushing, as Grant turns his gaze to her. "Thank you...I'm sorry I gave Mary attitude. It won't happen again."

"Good." Grant turns back to the lines of women as Jaz resumes her place and Mary stands fluidly at the head of the pit.

"We have a little while before we should go, Grant," she says. "Do you see anything that...pleases you?"

Grant laughs, slightly overcome. "I - yes! All of you...please me. All of you are amazing. This is incredible." He sees smiles spread over the women's faces as he looks around, slightly overcome. This is really...my life now. My choice. Stepping down the line, he stops in front of Mel. He cups her cheek in his hand, and she leans into it with a pleased sigh, eyes wide and yearning. "You've had a rough day, Mel. Would you like to, uh." He fumbles suddenly, not sure how to phrase this. "...join me?"

"Please, Grant," Mel whimpers. Grant smiles and takes her hand.

"Very well." Mary seems satisfied with his choice. "Then the rest of us should get some rest before the big event this evening. Grant, we'll leave you - "

"Mary." Grant holds up a finger, and she cuts herself off mid-sentence. "...You, too."

A blush and a pleased smile spread across Mary's face, warming Grant's heart. "...Of course. Master." She takes a deep breath.

"Amanda, I want to talk to you as well. The rest of you, get some rest," Grant orders. The women nod and disperse at his command, murmuring amongst themselves (Grant's pretty sure he hears Lily say, "Should've known that was coming on too strong.") and Grant feels a surge of pride and pleasure as they obey. I'm really doing this...I'm not no one anymore. Amanda steps to his side and Grant murmurs his instructions in her ear. She seems surprised at first, then nods slowly, then gives him a firm, serious nod before departing for the front hall. Mary steps down into the conversation pit to join him and Mel, and he pulls her into a firm, passionate kiss.

"Where the hell did you find all this?" he asks when they finally come up for air.

Mary's eyes sparkle with mischief and pride. "On our way back with the guns, Jaz and I passed a lingerie store. I thought you might...appreciate it, so we made a quick stop. There's a lot more. And Lily, uh...already had that outfit."

Grant laughs. "Incredible. You're incredible. All of you are."

"Thank you, master." Mary's smile turns sly and she reaches down to take Mel's free hand. "Shall we...go relax a bit before our night out?"

"Yeah, I think so," Grant says with a grin. The two of them lead Mel, blushing between them, up out of the conversation pit and toward his bedroom.