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Monthly Archives: May 2013

Over and Over

Yearning_III_by_Sonic_Orgasm

I heard her voice.

It was very late afternoon in early summer on a sweet and fabled Friday. The sinking sun was glittering through the new leaves in the trees that surrounded the house. The day had been vivid with her distant presence.

It might have been in the past, but it was today.

Her desire was taut, electric, vibrant, eloquent. It shivered in her breathing, whispered in her sighs, lifted in hunger as her yearning grew. My ears were filled with the long ache that carried her relentlessly to an intense, glorious, almost-holy-but-gorgeously-earthly resolution.

I heard her voice.

It called my name.

Over and over.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph stolen from Kat M Photography

 
19 Comments

Posted by on May 31, 2013 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life

 

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Angel – Seventh Part : He will find her

Bound_III_by_possession

She looks divine.

Her arms raised above her head.

The leather cuffs around her wrists are secured by a simple device to the top of the door. Her naked back is against the cold, painted wood. She is wearing nothing but lacy black panties, tied at the sides. And her unusually-bold-for-her fuck-me heels.

And a black leather blindfold, tied about her brave head.

He taps the inside of her ankles. One, then the other. She instinctively knows it is a signal to place her feet further apart. He takes the spreader bar and clips it to the D ring on each cuff. She senses, but does not test, that she cannot now close her legs.

She feels his hand upon her left calf. It is not where she expected him to begin. His fingers are cool. She remembers them. Long, slender, and sensitive. Such elegant, beautiful hands. She feels a tug in her lower belly.  An ache.  A yearning.

Her mouth is dry. She is nervous, but it only adds to her excitement. She has never known anything quite like this.

He caresses her lower leg, the tips of his fingers moving in small, electric circles. His touch thrills her. It travels over and behind her knee, up to her thigh. Impossibly slowly, deliciously, without the slightest haste, certain, endlessly moving. She is achingly aware of her restraints. That she has no power over what happens next.

Part of her longs for him never to stop stroking her this way, sending waves of new pleasure radiating through her entire body. making her nerve endings tingle.

While at the same time part of her urgently wants his hand to be firm, perhaps even rough, upon her sex, his magical fingers gliding, probing, exploring her through the thin material of her panties.

She is suddenly embarrassed at how wet he will find her.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from possession

 
28 Comments

Posted by on May 28, 2013 in D/s, Erotica

 

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Almost understands

The_Mirror_III_by_RinaArt

She hates the mirror.

In it she witnesses all her perceived imperfections, all her imagined failings, all her familiar faults. She has compared herself to others and found herself wanting. She finds no joy in her own reflection.

I tell her to imagine the glass as my own eyes. To imagine that it is I who is admiring her curves, studying her lines, exploring her body, becoming lost in her beauty.

She momentarily catches a glimpse of herself as I see her, her perfection captured in my vision.

She half senses the reason for my adoration.

She almost understands why she thrills me so.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from RinaArt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
28 Comments

Posted by on May 27, 2013 in D/s, Still Life

 

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Man of Steel Revisited

In the half light

Man of Steel

 

I feel nothing

I am a man of steel.

.

I do not care

If I never hear from you

Again.

I am not your friend.

.

I feel nothing

I am a man of steel.

.

Don’t want to

Ever hear your voice

on the phone.

I’d rather be alone.

.

I feel nothing

I am a man of steel.

.

I do not care

If you never write me

A word.

Not a word.

.

I feel nothing

I am a man of steel.

.

Don’t want to

Even remember the nights

We shared.

I just don’t care.

.

I am a man of steel

I feel nothing.

.

©  The author writing as Romantic Dominant

This poem was written at the painful end of a relationship.  Its short, clipped, simplistic style is intentional.  Only the reader can decide if I meant what I wrote.

(Incidentally the painting is by a talented artist called Anne Magill.  I hope she doesn’t mind me stealing it).

 
30 Comments

Posted by on May 26, 2013 in Lovers Past, Poetry

 

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Slow surrender

angel_by_dreaming0utloud-d3hv91h

She is innocent.

Her bold beauty is barely blemished. Her gorgeous body is almost untouched by another’s breath. The gentle pages of her heart are yet to be written.  Her hunger is new and urgent. She longs for something she has yet to discover.
She has purity in her soul.

He is darkness.

He has loved and won and lost his way through enough joy and sorrow to fill the night. He has coaxed forth endless sweet fantasies, elegantly bestowed a thousand decadent pleasures, administered such breathtaking, delicious torture.
His eyes have seen far beyond the shadows.

Yet there is an ache that binds them. A primeval yearning that sets them apart from all others.

He will sanctify her slow surrender and make them both holy.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from Dreaming Out Loud

 
38 Comments

Posted by on May 23, 2013 in D/s, Erotica

 

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Angel – Sixth Part : All he will do

surrenderstudy-500x500

He presses the side of the cold blade to her breast.

From behind the blindfold she can imagine its edge – razor-sharp. Her own fear arouses her.  She feels a yearning lurch in her lower belly as the point traces across her skin to cut through each of the straps of her already ruined bra, She can imagine the pink thin trail the knife leaves, lightly scoring her flesh, yet not breaking the skin. It almost burns. She is aching for his touch. She is longing for delicious pain.

The material of her brassiere slips off her shoulders and brushes her like breath as it falls to the floor.

She tries to see herself as her sees her, naked except for lacy panties, and wearing her sexy, vertiginous, bought-for-the-occasion heels. She knows that the shoes make her legs look long. her thighs toned, her calves elegant, and her ankles slim. She can feel his eyes reviewing her legs slowly, from the toe to thigh. She senses his gaze lingering on her sex, contemplating the sweet mound, then caressing her hips, gliding over her belly, pausing at her breasts, studying her hard nipples, the areolae puckered by the desperate hunger of her desire.

She imagines him calmly taking in her shoulders, her collar bones, her throat, and traveling up her arms –  secured above her head – leather cuffs circling her wrists.

She feels like a sacrifice.

She can sense his dark eyes on her face, burning through the blindfold, searching her soul.

She is dizzy and breathless at the thought of all he will do to her.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Henry Asencio

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

 
33 Comments

Posted by on May 21, 2013 in D/s, Erotica

 

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Public Knowledge Revisited

Public Knowledge

Public Knowledge

.

She tortures the stem of her glass,

Her anxiety spills over the rim.

The stain spreads like rumour

Darkening the space in between.

She has bitten hard on her lip,

Driven nails through her palms.

She has run up flags of distress

She has surrendered her charms.

.

The conversation rushes her ears,

A sea of voices without words.

She is pinned against the iron-grey sky

To suffer the mocking of birds.

She watches him carefully take

An aerial survey of her wounds.

He completes a nervous wide circle

And leaves her finally marooned.

.

Her hand crawls past the decanter

And clamps a manacle on his wrist.

A circle of thumb and forefinger

Against the hard rock of his fist.

There is an embarrassment of silence

As the conversation turns tide.

A panic of wings beating upwards

Escape the inevitable divide.

.

.

© The author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from the web, but its provenance lost

A dinner party among friends.  The moment she realises what everyone else already knew …

 
25 Comments

Posted by on May 18, 2013 in Poetry

 

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