Monthly Archives: November 2013

Upon my wheel


When I was a child I caught a butterfly.

I pulled her from a perfect blue sky using a cheap net on a cane pole.

She enchanted me. Such delicately veined loveliness. Such gorgeous, vibrant, wonderful, hand-painted colours. Such a soft fluttering of perfect wings. Such exotic, wild, pure beauty.

Somehow she became entangled. Her struggle became urgent and desperate.

With untrained fingers I attempted rescue.

She disintegrated into sad, powdery fragments. Like ash.

It broke my heart.

And now.

All these years later.

You are beautiful. Exquisite. Sensitive. A rare creature. Bending to my will.

Yet no matter how hard I try.

No matter how gentle I am. How kind. How patient,. How generous. How understanding.

No matter how much, with every fibre of my being, I strive to avoid it.

I will break you


Upon my wheel.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from Junest


Posted by on November 29, 2013 in D/s, Still Life


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Private Man

Man of Steel

Despite outward appearances

He is a very private man.

He is not one to boast or to crow.

He does not pretend to be what he is not.

He does not demand respect on the back of a self awarded title.

He does not indulge in public drama.

He does not harass or molest or stalk.

He does not reveal the identity of a lover

He does not betray secrets

He does not want or encourage sycophantic cults

He does not mail photographs of his body parts.

He does not claim to fuck like a stallion.


He is a very private man

And perhaps he is dull because of it.

But she knows his heart

And she adores him.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Anne Magill


Posted by on November 26, 2013 in Still Life


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She tries to resist.

She wants to resist.

Or at least she tells herself so.

But this is not an assault from outside. It is a mutiny from within.

A coup. A rising in her blood. An insurrection in her bones. The rebellion of her skin.

Her desire confronts her. Her hunger weakens her. Her yearning betrays her.

She instructs herself she will not fall. Yet she is falling.

She promises herself she will not submit. But her submission thrills her.

She pretends she is in control, but she has already laid down her arms.

She belongs to him.

But she has not let herself know.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from Marrakesh



Posted by on November 18, 2013 in D/s, Erotica


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My Mistress


My guitar called me to play with her.

I lifted her gently.

I placed her upon my lap, her side upon my thigh, her body against my chest.

I stroked her smooth curves lovingly.

I placed my long fingers, tender but firm, around her neck and caressed her strings. She vibrated softly to my touch. I whispered to her and lightly fingered her frets.

I coaxed her into song.

Delicate at first, becoming more rhythmic and louder as she found her voice,

I strummed her with passion. We roared together.

She rose and fell against me. Singing, laughing, crying, wild.

My mistress beneath my hands..

I imagined she was you.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from Libellchen



Posted by on November 16, 2013 in D/s, Erotica, Music


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As only a woman can


She finds herself falling.

She studies her face in the mirror. Unchanged but different. A new light in her eyes. A smile playing like sunbeams upon her lips.

There is a lightness in her step and a dizziness in her head. She feels herself dance as she walks. She is conscious of her clothes, her curves, her bearing, and of her movement. She is attracting admiring glances. She is barely interested in the attention..

She is overwhelmed by a new, wild sense of freedom. And yet filled with the deeply sensual joy of belonging.  All at the same time.

She is his. She is adored. She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair.

She softly murmurs the song that reminds her of him.

She gives herself up completely to romance, to love, to desire. And to control

As only a woman can.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez



Posted by on November 15, 2013 in D/s


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What you wish to see

A test of true love

It is easy to see what you wish to see.

A man of words, of poetry, of sensual and sensitive emotions. Seeing beauty in women, in art, in music, in landscape. His preoccupations are control and desire, hunger and submission, domination and sacrifice. He is demanding, without compromise.

He lives for pleasure, and romance, even if it means he suffers.

He knows you almost as well as you know yourself.

It is easy to see what you wish to see.

It hides the worst

And the best of me.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano



Posted by on November 14, 2013 in Still Life


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He made her feel alive.

His attention was like a spotlight. Intense, vivid, incredibly bright.

It transformed her. Her beauty became breathtaking, her curves more exquisite, her skin softer, clearer, more smooth. She glowed.

It illuminated her and in its radiance she shone back. She blazed with a deep, wild, exotic sensuality. She gleamed with sex. She was dazzling.

It warmed her. Its wild, adoring heat made her special, unique, magical. It lifted her out of the ordinary where she had consigned herself.  It raised her onto the high platform of his heady admiration.

It aroused her. It drew out her desire, summoned up her yearning, released the ache that had almost lost itself somewhere in the core of her being…

But she let him go.

Somehow she imagined that the light would stay.

And for a while she did bathe in the dying afterglow.

Then there was only its pale glare in the distance.

Brief flashes touched her skies.

She shivered in the new darkness.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from Jeremy Shane


Posted by on November 13, 2013 in D/s, Lovers Past, Still Life


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