Even better than the first

The meal itself is even better this time. The catgirls who were invited to dinner last time have been talking non-stop to all the others, so regardless of the fact they must wear clothes you and your wives still have too many to choose from. A day after the last dinner you and Doe even saw a team of four catgirls practicing dinner with each other, clothes and all. Those four are Doe's first pick, of course. Effort and determination deserve some rewards. Every catgirl you pick jumps for joy or races in a circuit around the rooms of your mansion trying to burn off some energy. Anyone rejected either sighs, pouts or gives you big kitten eyes.

In the end you let yourselves get 'talked up' to a full table. Again, you and your wives were sure that if another dinner came up it would fill every seat and arranged the food and preparations accordingly. Now that your kittens have a taste for guests there's no holding them back. Any chance to get into the room is taken. Your manor has to have the most eager wait staff of any noble home in the realm.

In a similar vein, any catgirls that haven't acted completely crazy are free to go forth and feed the men in the army. Last time just a few bold girls did most of that job. This time you know that there are lines outside the kitchen and arguments over skirts and dresses, even arguments over the favored styles of hair and tail ribbons. The soldiers out there have no clue how thirsty some of these women are, the pregnant catgirls in particular.

Back in the banquet hall you smile as you notice a certain selection of catgirls leaning against a wall opposite one of the entrances. For sake of fairness you told all the catgirls who dined with the guests last time they would be sitting this one out. But at the same time you mentioned that if the guests wanted to see them again after the meal then of course it would be rude to refuse. As a result, Andrea, Cybil, Eveline, Flora, Inara, Laurna, Lydia, Melody, Olivia, Paige, Serranne, Shanna and Uma - the dinner guests from last time - are dressed to the nines and camped out at the entrance, hoping to move in like a hunting party at dinner's end.

The one problem with all this is that more catgirls do, indeed, make for more problems. Everyone is sitting just a bit closer together, so more than once one inattentive catgirl manages to knock another's elbow just as she's sipping some wine or soup. There are also more girls who get overwhelmed by everything and end up almost comatose in their chairs, eyes wide and taking in both everything and nothing. A couple of your more excitable girls, Deline and Therese, jump up from the table and run through the mansion. No one has a clue what triggered them, but that's pretty normal. They come back, looking tired and sheepish, and try to pretend nothing happened.

All in all, it's a lot of fun for you and it seems like your guests are able to enjoy themselves more this time as well. They don't have a hunt and a potential battle to worry about and they have one catgirl dinner under their belt, so they know a bit better what to expect.

It's just after dinner that things get interesting. Marina, who's been chatting politely with Sir Karnton for much of the evening, happens to mention that it's silly, but she's got that nervous feeling and she needs to go and check on her children. Sir Karnton looks like he's been hit with a poleaxe. "Children?" is all he can manage.

"Yes," she says. It's obvious that Marina didn't really think anything of mentioning them, but the older knight's stunned reaction has her proudly talking about her two newborn daughters.

"I'm surprised..." is all he manages in reply. You can't blame him - Marina's belly is toned and flat, looking not at all like one would expect of a belly that held two kittens two weeks ago. Her five foot nothing frame is every bit as appealing as that of any other athletic girl around twenty four years old. Sir Karnton's mouth snaps closed as he tries to find some way to finish that sentence without causing offense or becoming the butt of a joke.

"Would you like to meet them?" asks Marina, her amber eyes like pools of honey.

"Oh, why yes, certainly!"

Marina takes his hand very gently and leads him upstairs, toward the nursery. You doubt any catgirls other than your wives have felt the deep maternal pleasure of showing off their precious kittens to a husband or a guest. Marina is already on cloud nine as she leaves the room and at this point the knight is just along for the ride.

"Everyone loves babies," mumbles Dame Lorridan. She's had more than a few and you bet she didn't intend to say it quite so loudly. That might be a thread you can pull at later if you can just find the right moment.

"They are really cute," says Carmen. She gave birth to her trio of kittens just a week ago, but in that dress she's wearing you'd be hard pressed to notice. Not surprisingly, the tomboy has been getting along famously with the Dame. The two of them could have been sisters in another life.

"I suppose," says the Dame. "But they're so much trouble. What do you do with them for -oh- 15, 16, 18 years or so?"

"None of us know," Carmen replies, her voice getting melancholy. "None of us have any memory of what we should do now, or even who the father was."

That seems to sober Dame Lorridan up and the tough knight ends up as much out of her depth as Sir Karnton did just moments ago. "How many kittens do you have?" she asks.

Carmen's mood immediately shifts. "Oh, I've got three little girls. They're so sweet. They hardly mewl or whine at all. They're so warm and fuzzy." She sucks in a deep breath and smiles so happily that it infects the Dame.

"Well, ahem, how does it work with the fur colors? Do they all have the same fur color as you do?"

"They do. And they all have the same blue eyes I have too." Her tail is whipping excitedly on it's own accord. "Would you like to meet them?"

"I... would love to." And with that another knight with years of social experience gets sideswiped by a catgirl with a lack of memories and an excess of enthusiasm.

"Twins and triplets," says Sir Galren. "There are a lot of catgirls here, but it's quite something that both our fine dinner guests were blessed with multiple births."

"Oh, it's not so rare," says Vania, who's just a few seats away from him. "I heard that it's rare for human women, but for catgirls it's pretty normal." She tips back her wine glass and proudly announces "I gave birth to four of my own."

That puts Galren's jaw on the floor, and no wonder. Vania was actually the third catgirl to give birth apart from your wives, on the same day as Marina and Savine. Despite the size her tummy reached she's had longer to recover than most and Vania proved herself to be equal parts vain and athletic. She wanted to lose that baby fat and get herself in tip-top shape faster than any other catgirl and she succeeded.

Her soft green eyes seem to lock onto his and she rolls her shoulders and puts an arm over the back of her chair. The position puts her B cups, nice and plump thanks to her four hungry daughters, front and center and the twist in her torso, the way she's draped herself against that chair, leaves no doubt that her stomach is not just flat but concave.

"They're just a few hours younger than Marina's," she adds. An eager passing catgirl refills her wine glass and Vania sips it while waiting for Sir Galren's reaction.

"Four. They must be quite a handful."

"Yes, but I've got lots of friends. We all help each other out when it comes to the babies. Some girls have just one, some of us have four, but in the end it all evens out as long as we all share."

You stifle thoughts that were developing, hoping that High Inquisitor Melona's powers don't catch the question you were about to ask yourself - 'Does he have the same interests as Deacon Lorrick or does he just have a thing for mothers?' She says nothing and she seems to have been just as distracted by all the conversation about babies, so you're hopeful that you don't need to explain anything.

When dinner finally ends you watch a few of the girls from last time successfully snatch a couple of victims - er, guests, that is. And with that, the night seems to wind down.