Monthly Archives: December 2013

Speaking directly


She is attracted to him

And she is afraid of him.

Not because of how he looks. She has no idea of his appearance except for the almost cryptic description in his on-line profile. She conjures up a tall, slender, elegant, middle-aged man, with silver hair and eyes that either dance with laughter or brood black as night. But she could be wrong.

She has heard his voice. An ordinary Englishman with good diction and a slightly over-theatrical delivery when he reads.
It thrills her. And chills her, but she does not know why.

But is the words themselves that compel her and disturb her. Not because they are particularly clever or literary or wise or beautiful. He has described himself as a word juggler and she half agrees with him. Smoke and mirrors. Conjuring tricks with adjectives and verbs.

No. It is not his style but the content itself that touches her.

She is attracted to him

And she is afraid of him

Because he speaks directly to her secretly submissive soul.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez






Posted by on December 26, 2013 in D/s, Still Life


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On distance D/s


I was cynical at first.

I, who has enjoyed such powerful, sensual, erotic physical D/s encounters. I, who has adored the heaven of a woman before me, giving herself utterly to my will, her body warm, stretched out, bound and compliant beneath my hands. I, who has blindfolded and tied, licked and caressed, teased and tortured, stroked and pleasured, whipped and fucked…

I could hardly comprehend the concept of Dominance and submission at a distance. Yet I remembered Rebecca and how we had begun, four hundred miles separating us. The first instructions. Her almost holy compliance. It was before we had contrived to meet, – indeed, regardless of any such a meeting.

And slowly I understood. The mind controls the body, not the other way around. The concept of control and submission does not have to be directly physical. The desire to own, and to please is as compelling over five thousand miles as it is over five feet. The elements of trust, respect, and adoration from both parties are unchanged, although different in execution. The risks are real but different.

And the sexual pleasure, for both, is so deep and so joyful – although always mixed with an ache of forever unfulfilled yearning.

I was cynical at first.

But now I am a convert of my own religion.

Even when it is beyond an immediate physical presence.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominance

Photograph stolen from madmanu


Posted by on December 17, 2013 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life


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All the time

Art by Saliot

She has all the time in the world.

She can watch the seasons turn from green to gold to silver. And then be reborn. She can let the morning thicken into afternoon, dissolve into evening, blacken into night. Only to be illuminated again by day.

She can let the weeks spread themselves out as months and accumulate into years.

She can read her books, listen to her music, and smoke her weed. She can write her poetry and soften it with romance and lace it with a sweet, innocent desire.

She can see herself in the mirror and know that time will steadily improve her. She can smile as it moulds her lovely youth into elegant, compelling beauty.

She can dream and plan and hope and expect.

She is young

She has all the time in the world.

He does not.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Thomas Saliot



Posted by on December 16, 2013 in Still Life


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Bringing peace


She is not sure why she is special.

She thinks that perhaps he flatters her.

She peers at herself in the mirror. She studies her own familiar face and seeks signs of beauty. She pulls in her belly, throws back her shoulders and pushes her breasts forward. She turns sideways and examines herself. She smooths her hands over her hips and round to the swell of her arse,

She runs her fingers through her hair, shakes it out then lets it fall about her face before stroking it back again.

And then, for one proud moment, she glimpses it.

The wide, eloquent eyes. The sensual mouth. The elegant throat. The cascade of hair. The desirable, sexy, made-for-sin body.

And she smiles. And glows.

But there is one thing that she cannot see. And yet it is the thing that excites him even beyond her beauty and curves.

It is the pure, sacred heart of a sexual submissive

And while her body promises a thousand dark and delicious delights

It is the submissive that brings peace to a Dominant soul,



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano



Posted by on December 13, 2013 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life


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On romantic love


When we are young we think romantic love will conquer all.

We want it to dazzle us, overwhelm us, thrill us, glorify us. make us immortal. We long for it to sweep us up, enrapture us, take us in its arms and be happy ever after. We believe it will be the guiding light in our lives.

If we are lucky enough to find it, we discover it is indeed beautiful, magical, and breathtaking. It is pure heaven. We cherish it, nurture it. We want it to go on forever.

We expect too much of it.

We soon discover that it can also be flawed, capricious, one-sided, cruel, jealous, bitter, unforgiving, short-lived and illogical.
Sometimes it barely makes it through the summer.

It hurts us because we believed in it, and we trusted it.

Now we are older, we are wiser. We know that it can fool us, betray us, hurt us. It can tear us apart. So we become cautious, defensive, careful. We maintain our balance. We do not allow ourselves to fall. We distrust it, question it, torture it. No matter how much we desire it, we view it with cynical suspicion.

We compromise it, neuter it, dull it, pack it away in a box, say it is only for others. We let it slip from our lives. We think we are too old.

We deny it.

We become safe in the knowledge that romantic love cannot conquer us.

We believe we have conquered our longing for romance,

And yet we are still afraid of it.

And we still yearn for it.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Massimo Polello


Posted by on December 10, 2013 in Still Life


Nature or Nurture

fabian_perez_paola on the couch

How did he know?

She asks herself the question over and over again.

How could he tell from a photograph, a handful of posts, a dozen seemingly innocuous online messages?

What was it about her that had made him so certain, so confident, so sure?

How can he write himself into her head, into her heart. How can he read what she is thinking? How can he see so deep inside her. Every secret. Every wish, Every desire.

And how does he make her body react in the way that it does. Sometimes despite herself.

And where did this overpowering urge to please him come from?

Is it her nature?

Or his nurture?



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez





Posted by on December 2, 2013 in D/s, Still Life


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