<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Ravi;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Name</strong>: Dormouse<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Side Street<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: <em>Cat, Hare, Anybody else who feels like eavesdropping in the vicinity.</em><br/><br/><br/>The smile that came was no proper smile at all, it hinted at things though just what she didn't know. She didn't like it, not the way he looked at her, not the way that he seemed to coax. She trembled to be named and ducked her head behind the other girl to hide. Hiding was best when men like that were near. Of course she was good but that was just for Kitty, for her Cat. She shook at the thought of tears being good, memory tugging, taunting of a man wanting tears, saying how pretty she looked. Tears on the cheeks became a girl. No no no. She didn't like that at all. And so the Dormouse trembled and shook wanting to scamper away some other place and yet not for here was her someone, whether she liked it or not. And if she was honest she was actually quiet happy that the Cat was her person, her someone, even if she called this man Daddy. <br/><br/>Hare. Hare, that sounded better, it fit in her mind as if it always had.<br/><br/>She didn't want to come, didn't want to be pushed forward, shadows were her comfort but that coaxing voice, so beloved, and those gentle hands so well known. Dori trembled, and the tears came faster, this wasn't what she wanted but she let Cat direct her and shrank back into her arms, pressing pressing back into the arms that held her as if she would somehow pass through the other girl and be behind her once more. No such luck and the tender sweet touches, up her stomach, between her breasts and then to circle about her neck soothed her some. The word '<em>Deal</em>' alarmed her, and it seemed that was her fate. Every bit of reassurance replaced by something to upset and she cried all over again, great glistening drops of tears that rolled down her face. <br/><br/>"Kitty...Kitty Cat...for you, for you but please...it won't last long?" the meek little voice quavered, pleading, hopeful as she shook in that hold though it was something other then fear as lips teased her ear and then lap of tongue against her cheek. Touch, love, affection, protection. Hers. She was the Cat's, and if she desired then the Mouse would give in, but only for her, try to be brave. And so she kept her eyes downcast, demure, almost modest though her short scant grey dress rode up her thighs. And never, never did she meet <em>his</em> eyes. </span></span>