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Only adores …

 

He admires

beauty

respects

intelligence

is warmed

by wit

is thrilled

by sensuality

but only adores

what he owns.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer

 
1 Comment

Posted by on February 22, 2021 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Act dangerously

the-red-umbrella

 

Romantic that I am, I have a softish spot for Valentine’s Day.

(Although the Dominant in me objects strongly).

Not so much for the exchange of cards, gifts and supper between those who are already lovers.  I can see the romance, the affirmation, the enchantment and the intimacy – I have fallen under its amorous spell often enough. Yet one can also almost smell the commercial cynicism at this time of the year. It sucks.

No, I think what really makes February the fourteenth special is that it provides almost-strangers the perfect excuse and the ideal opportunity to flirt outrageously.

And to act dangerously.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Loui Jover

This is not a new post, but it has become almost a Valentine’s Day tradition for me to repost it around this time of year, to remind readers to be bold and to have fun.

 
4 Comments

Posted by on February 13, 2021 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Eyes

art-by-godfrey-yarek

 

He knows her eyes from her photographs.

He is lost in them.

In a number of the treasured images they are open and smiling. In others, they are mysterious and brooding. Sometimes they smoulder. In one or two they are soft and vulnerable. These touch him deeply.
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He has no vocabulary to describe the colour – and besides – it is not constant. They are molasses, and coffee, and cinnamon and toasted biscuits and burnt caramel and dark, amber honey.
.
They remind him of newly born, shining chestnuts, freshly emerged from their creamy skins.
.
Her eyes make him think of gorgeous, golden, gleaming antique wood, of raw opium, and of rich, crafted, leather.
.
And of looking deep into her soul while he slowly, tenderly, expertly caresses her perfect body with long, elegant, sensitive fingers.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
.
I do not discriminate between colour of skin, of hair, or of eyes, and have no preferences. This just happens to be a tribute to brown eyes. It was written at the turn of the year 2013 and has been shyly and patiently waiting behind sweetly lowered lids to be posted once again this year.
 .
 
4 Comments

Posted by on January 20, 2021 in Lovers Past, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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If we were strangers

Art by Henry Saliot

 

If we were strangers

and I saw you

in a cafe

reading a book

or on a train

gazing from the window

or in the park

walking your dog

or in a restaurant

laughing with friends

or in a supermarket

checking your list

or in a car

stuck at the lights

or in the office

confident and sure

or in a crowd

standing out

I would still want you

like sin

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new, but true.

Art by Thomas Saliot

 
8 Comments

Posted by on January 18, 2021 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Gift and curse

 

I have a sixth sense

I see what lies far beneath the surface of strangers and lovers.

I sense your desires, your fantasies, your needs.

I know what arouses you, what excites you, what makes you ache for release.

I learn your intentions, your agendas, your plans

I feel your hopes.

I watch your dreams.

I divine what you are thinking, what you are wondering, what you are wishing.

And I hear

what you aren’t saying.

.

I have a sixth sense.

It is both gift and curse.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not brand new. But true.

Art by Jaroslaw Datta

 
8 Comments

Posted by on January 15, 2021 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Connections

 

There are meetings

connections

and conversations

that seem full of portent

full of promise

full of premonition

unusual and special

from their very first breath.

 

Yet there are others

that appear innocent

with no significance

or implication

or intuition

until much later

when hindsight shows us

how momentous

those inauspicious

innocuous moments

really were.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not brand new, but always true

Art by Dan Witz

 
2 Comments

Posted by on January 9, 2021 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Good things

 

Good things

seldom happen

randomly

by chance.

They usually need

more assistance

than just hoping

for divine intervention.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not a brand new post, but always true.

Art by Thomas Saliot

 
8 Comments

Posted by on October 29, 2020 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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She has it

francine-de-van-hove-11

 

He adores women.

Their curves, their elegance, the softness of their silky skin. The way their bodies sway when they walk, Their sense of humour, their warmth, their generosity, their clear, incisive intelligence.

He adores their hair, their eloquent eyes, the hallowed velvet of their throat, the aching sensuality of their thighs.

He adores their femininity, their courage, their balance, their insanity. The way they talk so intimately amongst themselves.

He adores their resilience, their vulnerability. their anger, their passion, their truth and their lies.

He adores their motherhood, their sisterhood, their sainthood, He adores their independence, their sociability, their ability to survive.

He adores the fact that he finds them all so desperately, outrageously fucking sexy.

And yet there is something. Something that turns adoration into hungry desire.

Something intangible, wild, expressive, beautiful, endearing, submissive, strong and utterly mesmerizing that compels him. Something that captivates him completely.

She has it.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Francine van Hove

I originally posted this seven years ago.  It is my hymn to women in general. Although when it was written it may well have been for one in particular. And who knows, it might even be for one now.

 
4 Comments

Posted by on October 12, 2020 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Tale of a Dominant – Part One

She is perched at the bar next to him.

She crosses her legs on the high stool. He appreciates the muscle in her thigh, and the pronounced shape of her calf.

‘You don’t mind if I ask you some questions?’

They both know he will enjoy answering. It is a part of teaching. And he would like to tutor her in many ways. So he nods.

‘When did you know that you were … the way you are?’

He raises an eyebrow and smiles. ‘The way I am?’

‘You know…  … a Dominant’.  She doesn’t know why the word sounds utterly ridiculous and yet still sends a small shiver down her spine.

‘Ah. That.’  He is dismissive.

‘Are you not one?’

‘It has become such a cliché. I hate to be a cliché. That awful book … ‘

‘Fifty Shades?’

He raises his eyes and shakes his head, indicating disapproval. There is a silence. He begins to write spidery words on a single piece of paper with a fat Mont Blanc fountain pen. The ink is midnight blue. She cannot read them, although she tries.

‘Shall we just use Dominant as a label?’  She asks. Then after a few seconds. ‘After all, you do.’

There is an imperceptible shrug of his shoulders and a slight upwards curl of his lips. She takes it as assent.

‘So when did you know?’

He considers her question, his pen no longer at work.

‘I would say I always knew,’ he answers at last. ‘Certainly it has been with me for as long as I can remember. But I couldn’t define exactly what that ache was for a long time.’
He pauses.   ‘I have always adored women. Worshipped them. The female form has always thrilled me. And the feminine mind.’

‘Is adoration important?’

‘Of course.’   He says it with absolute conviction. ‘It is adoration that makes me want to unwrap a woman slowly, body and soul. To explore every inch of her. To give her pleasure and pain. To have her in my power. To enjoy her completely. To possess her.

He moves his long slender hands as speaks. He is aware of her staring. He picks up his wine glass with his left hand. There is a simple wedding ring on his third finger.  It surprises her somehow. She makes a mental note to ask about it later.

‘There must have been a first? Your first D/s experience?’

He laughs. She likes the sound.  She inexplicably feels that she wants to make him laugh.

‘The very first? He asks her, raising an eyebrow,

She nods.

Then that’s easy. It was Julie. She was fourteen and lived in the house next door.

The woman is shocked and her face pales.

He gives a wicked grin.

‘She was in the same year as me, but at the girl’s school. I stripped her naked and tied her up one afternoon in her father’s garden shed. Among the power tools and the nails and screws, the lawnmower and the old paint cans. I laid her on the big wooden workbench. I seem to remember I tortured her very gently with a soft wire brush.’

The woman appears shocked but he knows she is fascinated.

‘Julie enjoyed it. It became a regular event. Until her mother caught us.’
He smiles at the memory.  ‘But she is a different story.’

There is a long silence. The words spill from the nib of his pen in dark blue, almost black ink. She watches them materialise, unreadable, on the page.

‘Have you ever been tied?’ He asks suddenly.

The woman shakes her head and gulps a mouthful of wine. She tries to avoid his eyes, until she feels compelled to look up. They meet his and something strange happens between them.

He tightens the cap on his pen and hands her the paper.

She blushes when she reads what he has written, a hand fluttering to her throat.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I originally wrote this in September 2013. It was an idea for a book based upon a similar true event, which I eventually never wrote. I penned and posted a short Part Two, and finished it at that point. Perhaps it would have been worth continuing ….It has proved vaguely popular when I have posted here in the past, so I have posted again.

Art by Fabian Perez

 
 

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Never changed

 

I might be

seduced

beguiled

entranced

enthralled

enamoured

fascinated

bewitched

captivated

enraptured

spellbound

but I can never

be changed.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new, but always true.

Art by Michael and Inessa Garmash

 
2 Comments

Posted by on October 2, 2020 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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