Sadde knocks on Isabella's door at 7PM sharp.
"Okay, good." Pet, pet. "The other obvious no on here is that I think it's a bad idea to hit you for things that have in fact actually pissed me off. I'm sure everyone who gets carried away thinks they have it under control."
"If I'm pissed off I won't lay a hand on you at all." Pause. "If I'm really pissed off perhaps you won't lay a hand on you either."
There's variation possible within that plan, though. For instance, once she has a crick in her neck from leaning down to kiss Sadde-in-her-lap she can instead lay Sadde out and roll on top of her. And kiss her more.
Ooh! Good! Yes. Yes very good. She is happy with this development. Look, even more happy noises!
Everybody's clothes are going to stay on and Isabella's hands are not wandering in any particularly interesting directions, but she will kiss other locations above the neck. For a comprehensive map of noise-generation.
Should Isabella decide that teeth are also a possibility, however, she might acquire more relevant information. Like, say, Sadde seems to really like lip biting and earlobe nibbling.
The first instance of teeth is actually an accident, but with a reaction like that Isabella's not about to stop.
Isabella is so great. Such a great prospective dom. Sadde is very happy. So very happy. Such happy noises and squirming and being pleased.
Isabella eventually decides that "a lot" of kissing has been achieved, and she scoots off of Sadde. "You," she asserts, "are delectable."
"Unless you believe I should spend more time thinking about specifications and details of the list, as soon as you want, ma'am."
Isabella puts her palm to Sadde's cheek and looks at her fondly. "Day after tomorrow," she decides. "We could go swimming."
"Yes, ma'am. Sounds delightful, ma'am." I will see you in a swimsuit, ma'am. And then less than that, ma'am. I may be melting, ma'am. I am not certain, ma'am.
"Be here seven sharp day after tomorrow. With a swimsuit." Smile. "You may go."