Man's fascination with time is easily evident throughout history; for proof today just take a look around at all the pretty watches adorning the wrists of old and young alike. Whether it's a Rolex full of bling, a trendy TAG, or even just a trusty Timex, a quick glimpse at one's wrist is all it takes to fix our point in history.
This fascination is nothing new either, it's not a coincidence that the favored gift for retirement is a well-crafted gold pocket watch. Nor is it just a love affair with tiny timepieces that's so popular. Big Ben keeps the time for all of London, and there's that magnificent display in Munich, the Glockenspiel, with life-size caricatures that move as they depict various events from history.
The ancients had their versions as well; many believe Stonehenge is the remnant of a giant sundial or calendar of some sort. I think most beautiful of all is the mysterious Aztec calendar, with it's intricate carvings and symbols, so finely detailed it must be as big a pleasure to touch as it is to admire.
My own calendar, though, is much simpler; I take note of only three dates. The solstices, both summer and winter, play a prominent role, if only as a gauge against which to measure your moods. The third date, the most important date, is the anniversary of your birth. No, not because it represents the day in which sweet seduction tangled with beauty and perversion and you came into being, though that's certainly something for which to be thankful. Nor is it so important because it reminds me to stop at Hallmark to pick you up a cheesy card and a box of chocolates; hey, what do we eat the rest of the year? The real reason is much more simple, much more lewd, even crass.
Spankings.
I know, Baby, you've told me before, I don't really need a reason to lay my palm against your lush ass, but still, it's a wonderful thing to have a day on which society not only accepts the act, but encourages it as well. I get such a different feeling than on those days on which you've earned your swats with your sullen tone and attitude, or just plain old misbehavior. I often see the smirk appear on those days, as though it's a game for you; I believe you enjoy poking and prodding me, testing out the length of the leash, wondering just how much I'll take before you feel the sting.
This day is different; it's all for you, or maybe all for me, sometimes I'm confused as to the difference, if indeed there is a difference. You too, are excited, and have been all day. You've been close to me all day, hand in mine, your body brushing up against me. And during dinner you slyly slide your hand into my lap, your fingers dancing against the bulge, only to dart away whenever the waiter made an appearance.
Celebrating after dinner with a night out took us to the hotel downtown, the one with my artwork. I hadn't been there in ages, but it was one of the few things, other than you, in my life about which I was really proud, and something I enjoyed showing off to you. As we looked at the wrought iron I had helped create in my younger years, I couldn't help but smile each time a couple walked by and glanced our way, seeing the obvious affection with which you clung to me. How could I not feel good to have such a beauty on my arm? Do you think they had any inclination that what they were viewing was anything other than a doting father and his adoring daughter? You teased me so well, bending down to look closely at the detail work, letting me see your breasts straining through the thin cotton of your tank top, the pattern of the embroidered bra clearly visible. You leaned back into me while we waited for the elevator, the tight skirt barely covering your ass catching on the denim of my jeans. You always manage to rub me just right like that, it's as though my cock is made of braille especially for your blind ass.
What's going through your mind as the elevator climbs? Are you wondering what kind of treat awaits you in the room upstairs? Might it be keys to the car for which you've been begging, claiming that all the good girls have one? Or maybe a diamond worthy enough to adorn your beautiful body, though no matter the size it would surely be outshined by the luster from your smile. I've hinted before of inviting a plaything, could this finally be the night that I watch you rub your pussy against the hard cock of some young stud? Would you like to feel his cock stretching your cunt while mine drives deep inside your ass? Perhaps this night will be more about fun for me, maybe that's why I've been so friendly with your classmates. Could I have convinced one to come squirm in your bare lap while I watch you unwrap her damp pussy just like you would a birthday gift? I guess we're about to find out.
Though only barely summer, it's raining here, heavily, with the wind howling as huge drops of water pelt against the glass door of the balcony. Feels just like the hot, sticky rains in Hawaii. I can hear thunder in the mountains over to the east. It's dark too, there's only the intermittent flash from the lightning bolts to splash our shadows across the room. Once inside, you see no box with fancy wrappers and bows, you notice that there's no cake, no cookies here, no candles over which to make a wish; the only party favors in this room are a shiny pair of handcuffs and my thick, heavily-braided leather belt.
The blinds are open, but no lights on, so it's difficult to see the expression on your face. I do notice that you can't seem to take your eyes off the belt. You've felt it before, several times in fact; the braided leather puts a particularly nasty welt upon your soft skin. Never though, have I touched you like that in such a public place as this. You're wondering just how thin these hotel room walls might be.
"Take your skirt off, Princess, and your shoes." My voice is quiet, you're straining to hear it over the pounding rain and wind. I move to speak again, but my voice is stuck, your skirt is pooled at your ankles, your beauty almost always does this to me. Oh fuck. Covered only in tank top and panties, you stand at attention, proudly waiting, shoulders square and head held high, comfortable with letting my eyes drink you in. I see your nipples jutting through the thin cotton, I smell your pussy already, I can imagine just how wet you are; my fingers twitch, wanting to feel for themselves.
