Guiding star


When clouds

cloak the night

and hide

your guiding star

from view

it takes

an act of faith

to believe it

still bright

and unafraid

and lighting

the way

for you.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Aarestad Uldalen


Posted by on February 20, 2018 in Poetry, Still Life


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Candle burning



A match flares.

A hiss. A spark.

A candle flickers

The darkness is softened

I cup the light in my hands. The flame is like a tiny dancer. She bends and quivers in the cold wind. She twists and shivers and stoops low. She recoils from the snow. She flinches from the storm. She almost dies as the demons of the night blow hard and cruel. Without mercy.

Yet I protect her, defend her, nurture her, shield her.

I guard her, shelter her, screen her, secure her.

I hold her close to my chest, near to my heart. I whisper my own private prayers to her. I carry her home. I find her a safe haven away from harm.

I place her in the window so you can see her dancing.

A candle is burning.

She is burning for you.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

From three years ago. But there is sometimes a candle burning.

Art originally © Ameyama



Posted by on February 19, 2018 in Poetry, Still Life


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I am not an artist


I am not an artist.

I have not the talent

the commitment

the creativity

or the eye.


I am not an artist

but I will paint

your beauty

and body

in words

so you can read

how much

I adore you.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer



Posted by on February 18, 2018 in Poetry, Still Life


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Dark Priest

Dark Priest


I have know it forever

This desire for sexual control.

It seems as if I was never innocent. My childhood seemed full of yearnings beyond my years. My teens were confusing. I adored women utterly. Everything about them. Mind to body to soul. I saw women as superior human beings – intellectually, emotionally and, of course, sheer heaven physically. I still do. More than my equal. Goddesses to be worshipped.

Yet somehow at the same time I needed to direct, to restrain, to control, to impose pleasure, and perhaps a little pain. Though not without consent. The consent, the giving up of sexual free will, was what made it, and makes it, so deeply erotic.

All around me, in those pre-internet days, were sexual images and physical relationships that were so depressingly vanilla – though I would have never have known that description then. D/s was not the glossy, fashionable, female-fantasy, multi million pound, mainstream media (FSOG) phenomena it is now.

Over the years, with a number of lovers, I began to learn the nature of my desire. I discovered, then ignored, the world of BDSM with its often ugly misogyny and extremes. It did not sit with my poetry or my romantic dominance. I developed my own path, my own direction, almost my own sexual handbook.

And as I grew to understand the extraordinary nature of submissive woman, so I mastered the many diverse pathways to giving her overwhelming pleasure through control. Physically or at a distance.

So I am here. Romantic Dominant. Older and wiser. A man completely at home with his sexual self.

The sole priest of his own dark D/s religion.



I am amazed  to find I wrote this only a year ago. These days I sometimes barely recognise myself.


© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Image found uncredited on the internet.
If this belongs to you please advise and I will remove or give credit.


Posted by on February 17, 2018 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life


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Me – The ‘small print’


Some followers on WordPress and Twitter are surprised and disappointed when I express political or general opinions, outside of what they ‘expect’ from me. A number unfollowed me today after my recent tweet mocking the ludicrous idea that more guns make for a safer society.

Rather than you all unfollow me in an untidy fashion as you realise that I am not quite what you expected, I have decided to post this ‘small print’ about me, so all those who wish to take offence at my beliefs can disappear at once. I am certain there is something in here to upset most people but I do feel obliged to come clean about the man behind the writer.

I am white, male, English and middle-aged.
I am a socialist.
I am an atheist.
I am not poor (or particularly rich) by UK standards, and certainly not poor by world standards.
I would rather live in a poor, caring, fair society than a rich, uncaring, unfair one.
I believe all lives, whoever, wherever, are equal.
I believe all human beings have a right to food, water, and shelter
I believe we are all responsible for the safety and well-being of the children of the world.
I abhor discrimination by race, country of origin, sex (in the widest possible sense), age, religion (even though I am an atheist) and I abhor discrimination due to (lack of) wealth or education.
I abhor misogyny and the oppression and abuse of women in all societies
I abhor discrimination against those who face mental or physical challenges, or who are simply not like the ‘norm’.
I believe it is totally unacceptable that 1% of the world’s population own 50% of the world’s wealth, and that the gap between rich and poor globally is widening.
I think capitalism without morality has failed the majority
I hate the cult of money, and also the cult of celebrity.
I despise fervent nationalism or tribalism because it seldom leads to good outcomes. Flags should be reserved for sporting events.

There is probably more, but I am as bored with writing this as you probably are with reading it. Those who have decided to leave have probably left. There is more about me here and here if you can be bothered.

Please exit quietly. Hopefully some will remain.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez








Posted by on February 16, 2018 in Still Life


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My early morning


My early morning

from dark to day

from slumber to surface

from stretch to shower

from clothes to kitchen

from tea to cereal

from silence to study

from words to music

from prose to poetry.


My early morning

is full

with a sense

of you.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Theo Felizzola

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Posted by on February 15, 2018 in Poetry, Still Life


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Something else

Desire by Luc Becks


She is trying to think of something else.

She works, busying herself with things that usually bore her, creating her own session of displacement therapy. She fills her day so that there is no room for idle thought.

At home she urgently flicks through magazines searching for something to steal her attention, even for a moment. She watches TV, trying to lose herself in someone else’s story. At night she closes her eyes tight shut, as if it will help.

But she cannot get the thought out of her head.

This desire to serve, this need to belong, this yearning to be his.

She has felt nothing like it before.  Not for any man, least of all this complete, dark, distant stranger.  Yet there is a familiarity about him, a certainty, a resonance. As if she has always known he would be there.

If she allows her imagination to escape it will swarm at her thighs, ache in her lower belly, and send a flush into her throat.  It will send a delicious tingling down her spine. It will conjure up of a thousand images of her own submission that will make her weak at the knees.

It will make her mouth dry and her sex wet.

She is trying to think of something else.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written five years ago, but I like it.

Photo © Luc Becks. (Sadly this account appears to be no longer active on Deviant Art)

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Posted by on February 14, 2018 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life


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