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It does

His dark

decadent

religion

should not

excite her

arouse her

thrill her

in any way

shape

or form.

.

But it does

erotically

disturbingly

deliciously

exquisitely.

.

It should not

but it does.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

This piece was written a few years ago, and is sometimes true.

Art by Victor Bauer

 
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Posted by on September 17, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Away yet home

IMG_4014

Wales again tomorrow

Away from home, yet home.

A place of joy and sadness. Warm memories, gentle pleasures and quiet loss.

I will walk the rugged clifftops in the salt wind, the moody sea constant at my shoulder, Ireland an imagined shadow on the far horizon.

I will feel the cooler air on my face, see the turning of leaves, watch Autumn settle like fire in woods and valleys.

I will enjoy the sun and the rain, seasons changing in a day.

I will hear the lilt of history, change and hope in the returning language.

I will write wildly, poor connection leaving me less distracted.

I will sleep longer, the dark flowing river a silent lullaby.

I will miss you.

And all the things that are, that were, and that will never be.

.

.

@ the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Photograph by me, taken on the coast in West Wales earlier this year.

 
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Posted by on September 17, 2021 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Casting

I have cast you

as the heroine

the femme fatale

the dancer

the goddess

the slave

the damsel

in distress

the girl

in every one

of my dark fantasies

and scenarios.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant.

Art by Rob Hefferan

 
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Posted by on September 17, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Never call me ‘Daddy’

I do not expect

to be called

‘Master’

or ‘Sir’

unless

I have earned

your respect.

.

But never

ever

ever

call me ‘Daddy’.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marina Marina

This post is a few years old, but forever true.

 
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Posted by on September 16, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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The nature of it

It is the nature

of his dark

D/s religion.

.

His to direct

hers to serve.

.

His to teach

hers to learn.

.

His to own

hers to belong.

.

Theirs to adore

and be adored.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Posted before, yet always true.

Art by Antonio Macedo

 
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Posted by on September 15, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Never forget

I will never forget

the adrenaline rush

the catch of breath

the quickening pulse

the sense of destiny

when first you touched

this page.

.

And I will never forget

my overwhelming desire

to seduce

and steal

and secure

your secret

submissive soul.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by William Oxer

 
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Posted by on September 14, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Almost

If I close my eyes

I can almost

spirit you here

your beauty

your body

your smile

your scent

your heat.

.

But almost

isn’t anywhere

near here.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Casey Baugh

Written a few years ago. Yet almost is never near enough.

 
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Posted by on September 13, 2021 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Sometimes Sundays

Art by William Oxer

Sometimes Sundays are like this.

Quiet and easy. Music playing. An eclectic mix of new and old, blues and rock, opera and orchestral, R&B and jazz, folk and dance, rap and reggae. Music from every corner of the globe.

I have windows open to the world. Sounds from outside meet and mix with those within. The calling of birds, the baaing of sheep, neighing of horses, occasional barking of dogs. Sometimes a car. I live in the country among trees and hedges, fields and farms, hills and valleys, streams and secret places. Away from the grimy rush and flow of the city.

There is a stillness about today. It is in the light, in the air, in the breeze, in the quiet passing of time. It is in my thoughts. It is in my mind.

I burn patchouli and read poetry. I strum my old acoustic guitar, strings and frets familiar beneath my fingers.

I think of you. Your beauty and your smile. Sensual and warm. Your body. A heaven of curves.

I enjoy the ache. The longing. The yearning. Today it is not wild. Yet it is constant. An endless prayer of desire.

I write words. Some of which you will read.

The afternoon stretches and breathes.

I think of you.

Sometimes Sundays are like this.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by William Oxer

 
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Posted by on September 12, 2021 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Sea

Once upon a time

by the sea

where the water

kisses the sand

I held a perfect

salt-bleached shell

to my ear.

The voice I heard

from within

was yours.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Photography by Mira Nedyalkova

Not a brand new post. But when I listen again perhaps the voice I hear will be yours.

 
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Posted by on September 11, 2021 in Music, romance, Still Life

 

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A thousand kisses

As I look

at your photograph

I imagine

gently lifting your chin

with the tips

of my long fingers

and placing

a tender kiss

in the perfect

scented hollow

of your elegant throat.

.

In my mind

it is the first

of a thousand

more kisses

to brush

and touch

and taste

and caress

over and over

every single inch

of your exquisite

skin.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

This post a few years old – but a thousand kisses are at the ready.

Art by William Oxer

 
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Posted by on September 10, 2021 in Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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