Tag Archives: relationships

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.


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


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is transient







In a moment

it is gone

as if it had

never been.



is to be grasped

with both hands

before it vanishes




© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Montse Valdes



Posted by on December 11, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life


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Her Secret


It is her secret.

It always has been

Ever since she can remember. The longing. The desire. The ache.

A deep sexual yearning to lose control. To abandon her free will to the pleasure of another.
And in doing so find her own glorious, magical, delicious release.

Sometimes, in her private moments and when she allows herself, she has the scenarios in her head. Scripted and endlessly rehearsed, she plays them in a bold, burning, breathtaking loop. Fantasies and fetishes that leave her wasted and wet as she allows them to wash and lap over her.

Other times it is a jumble of words and images, of instruction and discipline, obedience and compliance.
Of being watched.

Of her body being used and pleasured. Stroked and caressed, kissed and pinched, slapped and whipped, licked and scratched, nibbled and teased.
And of being restrained.

And of fingers, and lips, and toy after toy. And his tongue and his cock. All used expertly, creatively, unrelentingly,

She has told no one

Until now.

Until him.

It is their secret



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

I wrote this three years ago. And I thought ‘why not post (yet) again for those who were not reading me then?’ I hope regulars can excuse the indulgence.


Posted by on November 30, 2017 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life


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Art by Anne Magill


I am a sensitive soul.

Perhaps too much for a man.

I sigh at beauty. I am enchanted by charm. I can get lost in a look.

I cry at sad movies, often glad of the dark.

I am a romantic, Sad songs in my ear buds. Black and white films in the winter. Meetings in steamy-window bookshop cafes. Walks by the swan-gliding river. Dinner in the flickering light of whispering candles.

A message on my phone that ends in a kiss.

I am a dreamer. A poet. Someone who will never forget the press of lips.

And sometimes, only sometimes,  I am a fool.

Yet for all that, if I am hurt, I can become as hard and as cold as a Siberian frost.

And the doors to my heart





© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Anne Magill

I wrote this almost exactly three years ago, and repeated the post two years ago and then a year ago. I am sure there were reasons for my writing the original. I am sure there must have been.
It captures the hopelessly romantic poet in me – and yet also the steel. A coldness, a stubbornness, a determination, an unbending will. I will never change. It is simply the way I am.
I hope it stands another repost.


Posted by on November 24, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life


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Let me down easy


I don’t think there is a single song by Scottish singer songwriter Paolo Nutini that I couldn’t post in my ‘songs I like but you might not know’ series. I adore them all.

I have enjoyed his music enormously since his debut album ‘These Streets’ in 2006

This song is from his superb 2014 album ‘Caustic Love’. I guess it says something that we have all felt at some time. I hope you enjoy.

If you don’t know his music, do take some time to discover.



Let me down easy © written and performed by Paolo Nutini

This blog post © the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Let Me Down Easy
by Paolo Nutini
Let me down easy
Though your love for me is gone
Let me down easy
Since you feel that staying is wrong?
We are broken by others
But we mend ourselves
We take comfort in strangers
But I don’t think it helps
If every fool were a clown
I would be a king and not a clown
Cause love can’t?
Closer than our hands and our feet
But it’s lost on me
Oh oh
It’s lost on me
Your love for me is wrong
Let me down easy
since you feel that staying is wrong?
There was no sweeter fruit than this
With no taste of bitterness
It was so fresh and sweet before
But I can’t taste it anymore
I was like a man with no care
I had everything
But it’s lost
lost on me
Your love for me is wrong
Let me down easy
Your love for me is gone
Let me down easy
Since you feel that staying is wrong?
On a better day
we’d be waiting on our corner
Selling dreams of redemption
But this time you’ve gone your way
So I’ll go mine
Out of sight, out of love, out of time
Your love for me is wrong
Let me down easy
Your love for me is gone
Let me down easy
Since you feel that staying is wrong?
Let me down easy

Posted by on November 19, 2017 in Music


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Long Night


They are alone.

No outside sound can disturb this stillness. No alien light can penetrate this darkness.

He touches her skin. She catches her breath.

He moves his slender fingers lightly across her cheek. Over her lips. It tingles like electricity. She parts them the width of a sigh. He feels her breath like a whisper.

He gently strokes the underside of her jaw. Fingers and thumb go either side of her throat. Her pulse is as rapid as the beating of heart of a small bird. He squeezes almost imperceptibly. She raises her chin and leans slightly into his hand.

He releases her. With the palest of caresses he navigates the curve of her breast. He circles the areola, the miniature terrain like braille. He finds her nipple hard and urgent. He teases it. She swears she can feel the raised, complicated whorl of his finger print.

Index and thumb again, like a pincer, capture the perfect rosebud. He tugs gently. She moans close to his ear. She is hungry. He tightens his grip. She feels it like fire. It tracks in a line of pure white heat down her belly and deep into the heart of her sex. She is wet. Tighter still and the pain is impossible pleasure. She wants him to stop – but never.

He lowers his mouth onto hers. She gasps into it as another intense wave thrills through her body. She thrusts herself against him. Wishing her hands were free, yet glad they are not. Needing muscle, needing bone, needing his hand, needing his cock to satisfy her delicious, frantic, gorgeous yearning.

There is no light. No sound.

Only them.

And the long night.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I was going through some of my old words and found this – written around this time four years ago. I like it. I hope you enjoy.

Art by Jeremy Mann


Posted by on November 3, 2017 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life


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How could you

have walked













in this world

without me

somehow knowing

of your presence?



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Nathalie Picoulet



Posted by on October 26, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life


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