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I call myself Dominant

Arcade card

 

I call myself ‘Dominant’ because it best describes my sexual orientation, my desire to teach, nurture, protect and direct – and also my tastes and desires – in way that is straightforward and unequivocal.

It is not because I expect you to fall gratefully to your knees and call me Sir.

It simply does not work like that.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art from a vintage postcard – origin unknown

I first posted this three years ago because the arrogant posturing, words, attitudes and expectations of many online wannabe ‘Doms’ made me laugh. They still do.

 
5 Comments

Posted by on December 20, 2018 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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I call myself Dominant

Arcade card

 

I call myself ‘Dominant’ because it best describes my sexual orientation, my desire to teach, nurture, protect and direct – and also my tastes and desires – in way that is straightforward and unequivocal.

It is not because I expect you to fall gratefully to your knees and call me Sir.

It simply does not work like that.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art from a vintage postcard – origin unknown

I first posted this two years ago because the arrogant posturing, words, attitudes and expectations of many online wannabe ‘Doms’ made me laugh. They still do.

 
4 Comments

Posted by on December 14, 2017 in D/s, Still Life

 

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All afternoon

bondage_by_neil__whiteley-d5b3wjd

A cool, darkened room.

Outside the sun is blistering the wooden shutters. Narrow shafts of light sear between the wood, striping the walls and ceiling.

And streaming all over you.

They band your body, striping you cream and coffee coloured

You are naked, face up, on the white-sheeted bed.

You are stretched out in a star shape. Your wrists and ankles are secured to the four corners by ropes through steel D rings on strong black leather cuffs. The bindings permit little movement. No matter how hard you tug and strain against them

You have been here for almost an hour. I have caressed you, kissed you, licked you, stroked you. I have nibbled you, kneaded you, and lightly scratched you. I have teased you with my pin wheel, with a soft brush, with a scarf of silk, and with my twelve stranded flogger, trailed over your skin.

And with two of the dozen toys that I have carefully arranged on the oak bedside table.

I have a vintage Hitachi wand in my right hand. It whirrs rather noisily yet it is a faithful servant. I am applying it expertly to your already swollen and glistening sex. With my left hand I am tugging and pinching your hard-as-berry nipples. Your body is bucking and arching, wanting to push away from the wand’s relentless, dimpled, vibrating touch yet at the same time to thrust yourself against it.

Your breathing is urgent and hard. You are panting and crying, sighing and moaning. I know you are desperate to speak, to shout something at me. But you do not. I have forbidden you words.

Your body is dancing now. Strands of your hair are damp and clinging with perspiration. Your face is suffused and flushed with deep arousal. Your eyes roll back. Your mouth is open.

Your muscles tighten. You shudder. The orgasm reverberates through you.

It is your third climax.

The toy continues to send spasms through you. You make small noises of protestation. I smile. After a while I switch it off and idly but dangerously trail my fingers over your inner thighs.

I consider which device to use next.

Later I will reposition you face down.

Later still I will fuck you. Hard.

I have all afternoon ahead of me.

I am torturing you with pleasure.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph by Neil Whiteley

I wrote this around this time three years ago. But perhaps new readers will enjoy …

 
20 Comments

Posted by on July 29, 2017 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life

 

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Journey begins

 

 

To be her first.

To be regarded enough for her to bend.  To be respected enough for her to yield. To be admired enough for her to kneel.

To be the one made holy by her gift, never before given.

It is an honour for him.

It is a wild, heady, nervous, exciting and achingly erotic moment for her.

Their journey begins.

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I wrote this almost exactly four years ago. So perhaps I can be forgiven for hoping you won’t mind reading again. Ah, the beginnings of new journeys. Sigh.

Photo ©  Nahuaconetl

 
4 Comments

Posted by on March 9, 2017 in D/s, Still Life

 

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If you are a submissive …

Photo by Paulo Reversi

If you are a submissive

and you want to be called a slut

or a whore.

If you want to be treated cruelly.

Humiliated. Stripped of dignity. Bullied. Made to crawl.

Devalued, degraded, disregarded, demeaned, demoralised.

Used.

Abused.

To be always punished and disciplined.

If your idea of a perfect Dominant is of testosterone, intolerance, and impossible expectations.

If you want to be looked down upon,

And treated mean

Then I am certainly not the man for you

nor are you the woman

for me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo by Paulo Reversi

I wrote this a year ago. Still so true.

 
16 Comments

Posted by on February 16, 2016 in D/s, Still Life

 

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If you are a submissive

 

kallista_elfia_arcen_2_by_pinkhazard-d82o0pl

If you are a submissive

and you want to be called a slut

or a whore.

If you want to be treated cruelly. Humiliated. Stripped of dignity. Bullied. Made to crawl.

Devalued, degraded, disregarded, demeaned, demoralised.

Used. Abused.

To be always punished and disciplined.

If your idea of a perfect Dominant is of testosterone, intolerance, and impossible expectations.

If you want to be looked down upon,

And treated mean

Then I am certainly not the man for you

nor are you the woman for me

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph stolen from Pink Hazard

 
10 Comments

Posted by on February 6, 2015 in D/s, Still Life

 

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New Language

bondage_by_neil__whiteley-d5b3wjd

This is sex

There is no doubt about that.

Yet it is so much wilder and darker, decadent and dangerous, trusting and romantic than anything she ever imagined.

It is heady with instruction, breathless with restraint, stern with control, religious with submission.

It is pungent with leather, rough with rope, inky with blindfold, and stinging with whip.

It is the cold fire of nipple clamps, the gorgeous burn of wax.

It is the endless, mounting, sustained, relentless, overwhelming waves of pleasure from his briefcase of toys.

It is the skill of his long fingers, the magic of his tongue, the sensual, sexual creativity of his mind.

It is the pure heaven of his adoration.

It is one climax after another.

This is sex

But in a whole new language

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from the talented Neil Whiteley

 

 
39 Comments

Posted by on May 26, 2014 in D/s, Erotica

 

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Brief case : More pleasure or pain?

All Tied up 3 by R J Thomas

This is the continued unpacking of my famous, decadent briefcase

First it was the bindings, and then a selection of tools. Here are the remaining contents:

Hitachi wand massager
It is perhaps my favourite device. It is mains powered and perhaps a little noisy. But with a couple of useful attachments it is a formidable tool for pleasure. It could probably give joy to a stone.

Lightweight nipple clamps joined with a chain
More for adornment than punishment

Heavyweight nipple clamps joined with a chain
These are serious stainless steel with a cruel bite.

Candles and a lighter
Hot wax is devastatingly sensual. Delicious, harmless pain.

Vibrating bullet that can be secured in position by ‘holster’ and straps
It gives unrelenting, inescapable pleasure while I do other things elsewhere on the body – or just leave it running.

Slim anal vibrator
An elegant tool that thrills

Egg shaped vibrator
This has given so much pleasure over the years. It can be inserted, but actually is most effective when not. It also has a tiny tail at the end that stimulates with subtlety.

Pinwheel

I will let this post speak for the wonderful pinwheel

Electronic stimulation kit

Administering sensation through self adhesive pads or clamps. At low intensity it is a tickle of pleasure. As I increase the power it delivers currents that have the body dancing with a mixture of delight and danger.
 Marvellous when used in conjunction with other things.

Sundries
The indispensable must haves: Lubricant gel, condoms, bondage tape, spare batteries, antiseptic toy cleaner etc

Of course, owning the tools is all very well.

It is having the knowledge, intuition, expertise and skill to use them.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from R J Thomas

 

 

 
20 Comments

Posted by on May 20, 2014 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life

 

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Beyond

Jack Vettriano - Tutt'Art@ (30)

Beyond the blindfold.

Beyond the ropes, the cuffs, the collar and the whip.

Beyond the dress, the leather, the heels, the silk.

Beyond the clamps, the toys, the oil, the pin wheel.

Beyond her kneeling, head bowed, at my feet

Beyond her stretched naked, tied to the four posts of this bed

Beyond her whispered ‘yes’

Beyond her wondrous, glorious, sacred submission.

Beyond everything

It still isn’t enough.

 

It is never enough

To cure this endless ache.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano

 

 

 
44 Comments

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

 

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Angel – Ninth Part : Everything

captive_by_rothermrebeka-d2flewg

The pin wheel criss-crosses her belly.

The sensation, electric, tingling, sharp, dangerous,  makes the muscles dance beneath her skin. She moans as its stinging path begins to move towards her sex. She tests the bindings that secure her arms above her head. She can twist her upper body but the door at her back limits her movement.  The spreader bar at her ankles keeps her legs parted, immobile, and stops her escaping from the cruel, wonderful spikes.

She wonders momentarily what she is doing here in this anonymous hotel room at the admittedly slender and expert hands of an almost stranger. She only knows him as a poet, a seducer with words, a master of the heart. She has read his dark writings and knew what to expect.

Except that she could never have imagined how she would feel. Naked, vulnerable, aroused, and utterly adored. In a way she had never been before. She feels sensual, decadent, and brave.  She feels like a sacrifice, a goddess, a slave. For as long as this lasts, she will be utterly his and, despite the fear that makes her shiver, she feels strangely safe.

Most of all she feels extraordinarily beautiful.

She gasps as the teeth of the wheel run up and down her thighs. She loses count of the journeys it makes before the pressure softens.  She thinks she knows where it is going next.

There is a silence. Seconds tick away. The air is heavy with expectation, She can barely breathe.

She needs. She aches. Her entire skin is alive with desire.

She knows he will do everything. She wants him to do everything. Everything she has imagined. Everything he has ever written. Everything she has ever dreamed.

She wants … everything.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo by RothermRebeka

Part OnePart Two.  Part ThreePart Four.  Part Five.  Part Six.  Part Seven.  Part Eight.

 
32 Comments

Posted by on August 1, 2013 in D/s, Erotica, Lovers Past

 

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