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My doctor has examined me

Type = ArtScans RGB : Gamma = 2.000

 

My doctor has examined me

He is man of great learning and deep understanding.

He is old and wise, and certificates on his wall attest to his vast and eclectic knowledge. Anatomy, psychiatry, psychology, neurology. Surgery, geometry, chemistry, philately, campanology.

He took deep soundings from my pulse. He listened carefully to my heart. He examined my body with clever hands, the strength of my muscles, the structure of my bones, the conductivity of my nerves, the light on my eyes. He considered tendons, ligaments, cartilage. 

He had me listen to indistinct sounds. He made me recall half-forgotten scents.  He insisted I recite my darkest poetry.

He made my reflexes dance

He asked me questions, recovered my dreams, investigated my hopes, pondered over my expectations. Asked pointedly about my exercise. And my patterns of sleep.

He explored my diet, my sexual inclinations, my sensual desires.  My abuse of tea. And alcohol.

When he was done he sat me down and faced me. His brow was furrowed, his mouth severe. His chin was set firm. He was serious in his approach. He was careful in his diagnosis. 

He shook his head sorrowfully, and with his fat fountain pen wrote slowly upon his pad. He solemnly handed me the page.

My doctor has examined me

He is a man of considerable reputation. I trust him completely.

My doctor has examined me. 

My doctor knows what ails me. He knows what has laid me low.

He is certain of the only thing that can make me well. His recommendation is precise and unequivocal.

My doctor has prescribed me you.

It is a repeat prescription. 

Of unlimited dose

To be taken as often

as I require.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I wrote this a year ago. But It made me chuckle so often as I penned it then,  I have decided to post again

Art by Fabian Perez

 
8 Comments

Posted by on February 20, 2017 in Still Life

 

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Your legs

art-by-thomas-saliot

 

 

Your legs

bare skinned

in jeans

in a skirt

in stockings

in heels.

 

Your legs

kneeling

walking

bending

stretching

on tip toe.

 

Your legs

dancing

crossing

parting

tangled

with mine.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Thomas Saliot

 

 
2 Comments

Posted by on February 19, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Between my lines

art-by-francine-hove

 

I wonder

if you can feel

the ache in my words

the desire in my sentences

the sex in my poetry.

 

I wonder

if you can feel

the you

between my lines.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Francine van Hove

 

 
4 Comments

Posted by on February 16, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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The Edge

Art by Loui Jover

 

Sometimes he feels as if he is on the edge.

Despite all he has seen, all he has known, all he has felt, all he has believed, all he has learnt. all he has done.

Despite all the beguiling eyes, the bewitching smiles, the captivating laughter, the beautiful bodies, the softest touch, the exquisite elegance, the most tender submission.

Despite all the control, the romance, the hunger, the ache, the longing, the dark, delicious, decadent desire. The deepest pleasure, the most eloquent pain, the powerful, pure magic of a yearning far deeper than skin.

Still sometimes he feels as if he is on the edge

Of something completely and utterly breathtaking.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written a while ago – but ‘sometimes he feels as if he is on the edge’

Art by Loui Jover

 
4 Comments

Posted by on February 15, 2017 in D/s, 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 four years ago, but sometimes relevant.

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

 
6 Comments

Posted by on February 14, 2017 in D/s, Still Life

 

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Raising a glass

 

art-by-victor-bauer

 

On the eve of a day

commercially obsessed

with couples

I raise a glass

to those

who by circumstance

or design

will be alone.

You too

are special.

This one

is for you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Victor Bauer

 

 
15 Comments

Posted by on February 13, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Candle burning

somebody_is_waiting_by_ameyama-d5ecs2m

 

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 a couple of years ago. But there is a candle burning.

Art originally © Ameyama

 
8 Comments

Posted by on February 12, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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