Heard her sigh
Felt it whisper
Smooth as silk
A holy prayer
Into the night.


Catch of breath
Signalling pain
Senses stretched
Tight as a drum
Deprived of light.


Flick of wrist
Laying down stripes
Crimson tracks
On skin caressed
By gentler hand.


Salt fresh tears
Welled in her eyes
Running hot
Despite herself
Not quite to plan.


Held her close
Tender embrace
Hungry kiss
Lovers exalt
This perfect gift.


© 2011 – The author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano

This poem was originally posted by me in Love Affair Diary, and then repeated in the Notebook. I am sharing the Notebook, from the beginning, on Twitter and have now reached this entry – which has no audio. So I have recorded it today, and am self indulgently re-posting.


Posted by on May 27, 2015 in D/s, Poetry


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If it had been a bar

A softly lit quiet city haven where a sad piano player shapes and ripples the minor chords of half-remembered songs for lovers and strangers.

Or a party.

A loud, crowded, noisy gathering where laughter and conversation and alcohol and coke tempt bodies to sway and dance and forget tomorrow.

Or on a busy street.

A rush and dawdle of business people and tourists, shoppers and beggars, hawkers and sellers where the traffic ebbs and flows, pauses and surges like a sea.

Or in a thousand and one other places.

An office, a restaurant, a ball game, a concert, a carnival, a temple, Or a wide open space where the wind blows and the birds are thrown from sky to sky.

If it had been anywhere instead of this strangely connected. disconnected, familiar, unfamiliar world of swirling, teeming, edgy cyberspace.

I would still have found you

and wanted you

so badly.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez


Posted by on May 26, 2015 in Still Life


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Summer Dress


I see you

in a summer dress.

Thin straps on elegant shoulders. Your breasts captured sweetly. The curve of your hips caressed. Your arms and legs beautifully bare.

The hem high on your thighs.

Your hair is caught and stroked by the soft, warm breeze. Your skin is kissed by the friendly sun.

Your gorgeous eyes are shining.

Your smile is heavenly.

Yet you are shy

as the dress falls

like a cotton sea

at your feet.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

 Photo stolen from manequeen


Posted by on May 21, 2015 in D/s, Still Life


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red-hat by Fabian Perez

Finding you.

A pale, sweet girl of perfect curves and sensual lines.

A soft, gentle creature of wide-eyed innocence and dark desires.

An elegant woman of wit and charm and promise.

Finding you

is finding treasure.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez




Posted by on May 20, 2015 in D/s, Still Life


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The truth about the briefcase


My famous black leather briefcase does not exist.

It has appeared now and again on these pages.

It was said to contain a collection of the tools of my Dominant art. Of restraint and control, of delicious pleasure and of exquisite pain. It supposedly accompanied me like an old friend to hotel rooms and chalets, houses and apartments. And a few times into the leafy countryside. Once even onto a small canal boat on the river Thames.

I have allowed it, in various blogs over a number of years, in short stories and even in poetry, to become almost iconic. A dark, dangerous, exciting symbol of Dominance and submission.

The time has come for honesty.

There is no famous black leather briefcase.

Perhaps I should clarify.

It did exist once in its important role. It was my companion on many wild, decadent encounters and affairs. It was the faithful container of the devices and bonds I used during achingly erotic sessions with submissive women I have adored.

But two things led to its demise.

The first was the wear and tear of travel and time. The leather became damaged, the hinges twisted, the locks unreliable.

The second was simply capacity. My arsenal of pleasure and pain has outgrown it. It can no longer contain all that I have collected and want it to carry. So I have reluctantly retired it to looking after my old notebooks, handwritten in blue-black fountain pen ink in the days before digital made writing so much easier. Although perhaps less elegant.

Yet the briefcase’s spirit lives on. Though now sadly in larger, more anonymous, work-a-day luggage that does not quite possess the gravitas and dark charm of its predecessor.

Perhaps I shall write about the contents next….



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from cavannarose

This is a re-post from a year ago. But the briefcase – or at least its spirit – lives on. So I added some audio to justify its repeat exposure


Posted by on May 18, 2015 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life


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I have suffered the start

and end

of this night

to within a hairsbreadth

of hopelessness.

A tragedy of loss

and pain

and disappointment.


I have tortured the stem

and bowl

of this glass

to within a heartbeat

of shattering.

An accident of blood

and wine

and endless regret.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from lostknightkg




Posted by on May 17, 2015 in Poetry, Still Life


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Slave Goddess


She is my slave goddess

It is something of a paradox.

For some it is difficult to reconcile

She belongs to me. Her body is mine, to instruct, to enjoy, to discipline, to pleasure, to torture, to tease, to arouse, to undress, to direct. To use as I please. Sexually she is completely under my control.

And I yet adore her. I respect her, I admire her, I believe in her. I will protect her and defend her. I worship her beauty, her body, her bright, creative intelligence.

I have no idea of the reasons or circumstance behind the statue in the photograph.

But when I saw it in the Castelo de Sao Jorge in Portugal, it seemed to me a monument rich and vibrant with meaning.

A woman. On her knees. On a pedestal.

A goddess and a slave.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph by the author writing as Romantic Dominant.


Posted by on May 15, 2015 in D/s, Still Life


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