Speech Restrictions- A woman with a mellisonant voice, in pitch and harmony is a beautiful instrument.  But like any instrument it requires guidance- form, structure...and with everything, my permission for it to be used.

  In terms of form, when you are allowed to speak, your thoughts will be followed by 'yes sir, thank you sir.'  Whether its a remark of compliment or derision that form follows most everything you say.  When you are ordered to a corner and to kneel because you have displeased me you will say 'yes sir, thank you sir.'  When you are complimented for being a good little girl, you will say 'yes sir, thank you sir.'

  Many time when punished the 'thank you sir' will simply suffice.  After every lash of the belt or strike of the hand.  

  When are you allowed to speak?  When I tell you to speak freely its a relative term.  You'll ask permission to ask a question.  Once given you'll say, you guessed it, 'yes sir, thank you sir' and proceed.  But so many times you'll have no such permission.  You'll point to your mouth like a spoiled child to motion that you have something very important to say!  Perhaps I will allow, perhaps you'll have to write your thought down first and show it to me to see if what you are thinking deserves to be said.  Perhaps you'll have to kneel with a pen in your mouth, hands behind your back and attempt to scrawl your thoughts before I allow you to utter them.

  I like certain words and dislike others.  I do not like contractions. Using them is an easy way to earn my displeasure.  And do not dare utter 'um,' or maybe, or like as if like was some sort of word to be used as a mental comma.  Else you will find that 'maybe' your punishments will not cease, or your punishments will like, become like much harsher than your soft bottom can bear.  

  Finally pitch- your tone.  It will always be joyful, innocent and above all grateful.  When you are screaming 'yes sir, thank you sir' after the 50th lash of the belt you might be a beautiful ball of anguish, resentment, humiliation and hate.  But is your voice going to betray your true feelings...which, when I care to hear them I will ask for their expression?  I would suggest not.  Your voice is going to be even more cheerful and thankful when you are commanded to do the things that push your limits and the like.  Or else. 

A woman in colors...

I want a woman in red, inside and out...her finger and toe nails painted...in a red dress...a summer dress...the kind that flits and flows in the breeze...just tight enough to outline the hips and chest...the rest of the form kept discreet...and yet so readily accessible...down to the knees...or even ankles...enough flowing material that when its raised up slowly...kissing the backs of her knees...then thighs...and ass...before finally...pinned against wrists behind her back...that it takes more than a few seconds to do so...so she can ruminate that once the dress is lifted she will be conquered...

Red because its a dare...a dare to every man she passed by...daring them to take...make her submit...bend her and use her...because she's wearing not just a color of passion and sex and but the color of salacious sex...the color an inamorata wears on her soul...but always tempting, daring...drawing stares and whetting appetites...

Red because nothing marks so clearly and brightly as territory...as a trophy...when my hand rests on the small of her back...with a finger lingering on her ass...every man in the room knows the woman is going to be taken and fucked...with no questions...no mercy...no solace until her back can arch no more...and they'll know the woman is mine...that it takes all her will to keep her legs together until the bedroom is reached...