Monthly Archives: February 2013

More than once

fabian perez rojo sillion

He has known them all.

The veteran masochist with her piercings and scars, her wiry frame, her bitten-down nails, her bright, weary, ever-increasing hunger.

The disappointed wife carrying around her long-lost expectations in her handbag of domestic sorrow, desperate for anything that resembles exotic amour.

The young woman with her foolish ache fuelled by ill-informed, badly written clichés from Fifty Shades and a two-dimensional fantasy of bending to his will.

The needy self-confessed submissive who tells him she wants only the ties that bind her body and then seeks to secure him forever in the compelling softness of her bed.

The beautiful lover who is afraid of his power and of her own submission and who breaks both their hearts pretending that she does not yearn to be bound.

Such women have strewn themselves across his path like broken glass on a night-time bathroom floor.

Some of the wounds are still not healed.

And yet he still searches for love and poetry, romance and beauty, and a pure, perfect, sensual submissive who can touch his sensitive but proud Dominant soul.

More than once he has found her.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez


Posted by on February 28, 2013 in D/s


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Scarlet Ribbons

It is beyond compatibility.


She is made safe by his control, made secure by his discipline, made confident by his admiration.

She is aroused by his desire, consumed by his instruction, inflamed by his respect.

She is awed by his domination, excited by his authority, enchanted by his poetry.


He is honoured by her beauty,  enthralled by her sensuality, thrilled by her curves,

He is delighted beyond words by her complete and unquestioning submission.

Her body is his kingdom


She is proud to be his slave.


It is beyond compatibility.

It is perfectly symbiotic



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano


Posted by on February 27, 2013 in D/s


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She releases my hand

I wake from lost dreams on a bitterly cold Sunday morning with the shape of her name caressing my lips like a kiss.

A reluctant grey day has already crept in from behind the heavy curtains and made the room pale.

I search for her in the shadows knowing she is always beyond reach.

I swear I hear a faint cadence of her laughter from a place far away.

With a flick of her hair and the ghost of a smile her image fades.

Sometimes I am not even sure who she is.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from pathogens


Posted by on February 24, 2013 in Lovers Past, Still Life


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Any Other


It began like any other game.

She had read his words. The heady mix of romance, ropes and respect.  Of dominance, decadence and desire. Of longing, lust and leather.  Of sex, service and submission.  Of poetry, pain and pleasure.

It was an attractive, compelling and perhaps dangerous drug.

Yet she knew she could handle it.  The geographic distance would keep her safe.  The lack of a physical connection would be an antidote to its power.  The absence of the carnal would diminish its dominion.

She placed the collar about her throat.  She could feel the urgent pulse in her neck whispering a warning. She smiled bravely into the eye of the camera.

She could control it.

But now she aches.  A deep, persistent hunger that cannot be satisfied by fingers or phallus.

The geographic distance has become her prison, the lack of physical connection is her torturer, the absence of the carnal is the rack upon which her yearning body is stretched day and night.  She wants him.

She will do everything he instructs, and more. Always more.  Yet it will never be enough.  Not for her.

It began like any other addiction,



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Painting by Corno


Posted by on February 23, 2013 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life


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Take-this-Waltz by Jack Vettriano

As bizarre as it may seem … I have activated my Twitter account as a trial.

I remain unconvinced of its value, but we shall see.




Art by Jack Vettriano


Posted by on February 23, 2013 in Still Life


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Goddess by Danielle Smith

His instincts find her.

In truth, she was already there.

She’d burned at the edge of his vision for many months, but he had not sensed the submissive within.

She sheds her clothes for him as if the ache that urges her to serve him cannot be contained by the garments touching her skin.

He discovers, beyond expectations, a rare, handsome, classically beautiful woman with a glorious body.  She is elegant, tall, proud, statuesque yet slender, toned, superbly sculpted, and exquisitely shaped. Her breasts are perfect with dark, urgent nipples that he can almost feel beneath his fingers.

At her throat the brave, studded collar gleams.

Her hair is long, wild and lustrous and her eyes are achingly blue. Her mouth is heaven and sin.

He smiles and calls her his slave.

And a goddess.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Danielle Smith


Posted by on February 20, 2013 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life


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Only her


Now it has come to this.

She stands naked before her own reflection and his imagined eyes.

She sees her body as if for the first time.

She sees a woman who is far, far from old, but no longer young.  She sees the marks left by the children she bore.  She sees the scars of a past life still pale and remembered. She sees her breasts, still proud, but not quite as pert.

She sees her skin, still smooth but no longer as elastic and tight as in her teens.

She sees the thin web of lines that have begun to touch her face.

She sees every imperfection and judges herself harshly.

She shakes her head and wonders.

She does not realise

He sees only her.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from the delightful Care-worn


Posted by on February 18, 2013 in D/s, Still Life


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