Saturday Spankings – 5/23/2015 – Continuing with The Stuntman #SATSPANKS #ASMSG #ROMANCE



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Following on from last week’s snippet, our hunky stuntman is making sure his new girlfriend,  understands the rules.


(Slightly edited to fit the seven sentence rule)

Avoiding the area he’d just punished, Blake slapped his hand across the underside of her cheeks, directly on her sit spot, then traveled it back up, finishing with several very hard smacks. The zinging end to the spanking made her wriggle and wail, but the point needed to be made and she’d borne it well.

“We’re done,” he said warmly as he began to rub away the burn, “this bottom is mine to spank, to cuddle, to do with as I see fit, and it is lovely. I’ll spank you often, mostly for pleasure, and I hope you won’t give me too much cause to punish you.”

“I won’t, Sir,” she bleated.

Pulling her up he laid her on the bed next to him, and lifting off her blindfold, and unbuckling the cuffs, he delighted in her eyes sparkling up at him. Retrieving a condom from the nightstand he slipped it on, and rolling on top of her he pushed her legs apart with his knees, and thrust himself home.


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My Sexy Saturday – 4/23/2015 – The Stuntman #ASMSG #BDSM #ROMANCE #SPANKING

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His hand started to spank at a moderate pace, moving from cheek-to-cheek, sometimes landing three smacks in quick succession, other times throwing a hard slap to her sit spot. The unpredictability of where his palm would land was unnerving, and as the burning sting took hold, her wriggling required him to throw his leg over the backs of hers, and her ouch’s and ow’s became yelps and howls.

He didn’t pause to lecture, or give her a break, or caress away the burn. What she’d done had been foolhardy at best, and he was determined she’d never again put herself at risk. The spanking was punishment, pure and simple, and it was going to count. He increased the speed of his hand, continuing to kiss her bottom with his fiery slaps, and only when he spied large red blotches was he satisfied he’d made his point.

“We’re done,” he sighed, “stand up.”

Uttering sounds of pain she slowly rose unsteadily to her feet, and taking her elbow he guided her across the room and instructed her to kneel.

“Do you know where you are?”

“No, Sir,” she whimpered.

“You’re in a corner, little girl, exactly where you need to be. You’ll kneel here and think about why your ass is on fire. I’m leaving for a few minutes and you’re not to move, are we clear?”


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A Talking, Singing, Dog. Really? Yes, Really! #PETS #DOGS #ANIMAL TRICKS

The video speaks for itself.

It certainly brightened up my day! Hope it does the same for you!




Fingers trail down her spine,

skin, bone,

bone, skin.

Whisper across the small of her back,

tickle, touch,

touch, tickle.

A palm smooths the full fleshy cheek,

caress, fondle,

squeeze, pinch.

She gasps, then holds the breath,

waiting, aching,

goosebumps colliding.

The first slap smarts,

she bites her lip.

The second stings,

she utters a sound.

The long leather tongues,

casually draped,

gracefully promise.

The first hot thud lands,

her mind surrenders to feeling,

the second dances with her skin,

time stops,

and those that follow,

set her spirit free.


THE STUNTMAN – Now Available – Excerpt and Trailer – #ASMSG #SPANKING #ROMANCE


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Such a joy to write this book, and I had no idea when it began it would end up being 80,000 words. Below is an excerpt I hope you’ll enjoy, and a link to the book trailer.

I must also note that this was my first foray into formatting, and though the book looked marvelous on the Kindle previewer, it does not look so marvelous on the Amazon site. I am working to fix this, so I hope you will forgive the technical issues. :)

Thank you for stopping by.



Though she has been in a relationship with a Dominant more than once, Belinda has learned the term, Dominant, is a label often misleading, and she aches for the real thing; a man who is comfortable in his own skin and won’t hesitate to take her in hand. When Blake Berenson comes into her life, she believes her prayers have been answered.

When Blake tells her he is a stuntman her heart sinks. Having been a nurse in a trauma center for several years, the sight of broken bones and bloody injuries is becoming too much, but in spite of her misgivings, the spark between them fiercely crackles, and she quickly finds herself over Blake’s knee. He is everything she has dreamed of, and she falls hard for the handsome daredevil.

One night she takes care of famous screenwriter who has been in a major car accident. When his private secretary, a stern, officious man, asks her to be the patient’s private nurse she is tempted to accept, but Blake, having heard disturbing rumors about the writer and his palatial mansion in the hills above Malibu, is firmly against it.

Belinda is torn.

Will Belinda defy Blake, the Dominant she’s crazy about who doesn’t hesitate to spank her when he thinks she needs it, who fills her nights with blindfolds and salacious play, taking her to spine-tingling heights of passion? Will she risk all she has with her hunky, amorous stuntman for a stranger? And what about Blake? Will he put his foot down, or will he use his strength, his cunning and his special skills to help her?


With the security of his firm grasp guiding her, she moved forward until he pulled her to a stop. Taking hold of her hands he raised them up, cuffed her wrists, then lifted them higher, placing her fingers around the post of his bed. Seconds later she heard the sound of a metal clasp, and she realized she was shackled and unable to lower her arms.

Something touched her back. It was cool, and small, and slowly traced her spine downwards until it was moving over her seat, then it began to slowly tap.

Blake was holding a long, thin crop with a wide leather tongue. Never having seen one quite like it he’d bought it immediately. He’d been on location in New Mexico, working in a small, country town, and the horse supply store had spiked his curiosity. The crop hadn’t been his only purchase. He’d also bought a thick, sheepskin mitt, a lead line made of the softest rope he’d ever glided through his palm, and a cowboy hat. The young sales girl had flirted with him shamelessly, and he’d wanted to lean over the counter and christen the crop on her backside for being so obvious.

Holding the crop in his hand, knowing he was about to christen it, he felt a crackle of excitement. New implements charged him up, and sharing one with Belinda made the moment even more delightful.

As he landed the first light but stinging swat, his cock surged to life, and he stared for a moment at the small, almost square stain. It was bright pink, and repeating the sharp slap of the tongue on the opposite cheek, he smiled with satisfaction as the color bloomed a second time.

Moving around her, stepping from side to side, he danced the leather swatch across her cheeks, never landing it on the space spot twice, and covering her bottom with a range of satisfying blotches. She had squirmed and wriggled during the moderate cropping, and gladdened by his handiwork he sidled up to her, tenderly fondling her hot seat before slipping his fingers into her sex.

“Wet, wet, wet,” he purred in her ear. “Nothing to say? No smart retort? Oh, that’s right, you have a beautiful silver ball in your mouth. Pay attention, Belinda. I have attached your wrists to a swivel snap, and I’m going to turn you around. I think your tits might be feeling neglected.”

She managed a moan, and placing the crop on the bed he grasped her waist and slowly rotated her body so her back was against the post.

“You didn’t think that would work, did you? I’m a stuntman, remember? I know all about ropes and knots. I know about all kinds of things.”

His comment elicited another muffled muttering, and taking a moment to step back and study her, he smiled at the glorious sight. Her face was flushed, her chest was rising and falling, and her skin was still displaying a delightful array of goosebumps.

“You are ravishing,” he muttered, his voice low and deep and husky.

Stepping close, he lowered his lips to her sharp nipples, sucking hungrily, then picking up the crop he rested it against her right breast.

“Have you ever felt the sting of a crop on your lovely tits?”

She shook her head, urgently moving it back and forth.

“I didn’t think so,” he murmured. “Don’t worry, since this is your first time I’ll be somewhat lenient. If it becomes too much stamp your foot twice. If you understand, nod your head.”

Her head bobbed up and down, and watching her, he unexpectedly had an image of her kneeling before him and sucking his cock.

Yes, you’ll be bobbing your head again very soon. Very soon indeed.

Focusing back on the task at hand, he started to tap the leather swatch against her nipples. It wasn’t the severity of his soft smacks that created the sting, but the repetition, and when he sensed her reaching her limit he moved the crop from breast to breast, frolicking it across the full, fleshy mounds.

Her breathing was becoming heavier, her muffled moans were more frequent, and dropping the crop back on the bed he reached behind her and unfastened the gag, slowly sliding it from her mouth.

“Don’t speak,” he whispered placing his thumb against her lips, “suck.”

She took a moment to catch her breath before drawing his thumb into her mouth, but when she did, he moved his other hand between her legs to tease and rub. She groaned as her ache grew, and when he began kissing her neck she let out a heavy moan.

“You’re going to suck my cock just like you’re sucking my thumb,” he whispered. “I’m going to release you, and you’re going to be a very good girl and kneel down exactly where you are.”

He dropped his hand away from her pussy, and as he carefully pulled his thumb from her mouth she chased it with her tongue.

“That’s what I like to see,” he breathed as he untied her. “I’m going to keep your wrists locked together. I haven’t finished warming your backside.”

She whimpered at the news, but with his hands on her shoulders offering gentle pressure she lowered herself to her knees, then searched in the darkness of her blindfold to find him.





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In this scene, our hunky stuntman, Blake Berenson, is making sure his new girlfriend, Belinda Harris, understands the rules.


“If you lie to me,” he warned pausing his hand, “I suspect you will only do so once, and that includes the sin of omission. I can’t stress this enough, Belinda,” he declared landing several hard slaps to underscore his message.

“OW, OW, I understand,” she swore, “I won’t lie to you, not about anything.”

“Do you have any questions?” he asked squeezing her cheeks.

“No, Sir, but I can’t think right now. I might later.”

“Later is fine. I’m going to finish now. As I said before, you need to know that while I am loving and kind, I can also be strict.”

“Ooh, Yes, Sir.”

“That’s why those cuffs are still around your wrists, so you won’t make the mistake of trying to put your hands behind you.”

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My Sexy Saturday -5/9/2015 – The Director’s Daughter – #ASMSG #SPANKING #ROMANCE



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Breaking away he moved behind her, and grabbing her hips he pulled her on to her knees. Pushing her legs apart he thrust two fingers into her soaked cunt, and as he toyed and teased he began lightly spanking her. She moaned and mewled, and as the power of their short, heartfelt conversation overwhelmed him, he abruptly stopped to slide the condom over his cock. Thrusting forward, he pumped with robust, slow strokes, then dropping a hand underneath her, he began to massage her clit.

“Oh, Sir,” she wailed, “please, please.”

“Please what?” he growled.

“Please, fuck me harder.”

Abruptly he stopped.

“Be still, be completely still and silent,” he said firmly.

“If you move, my hand will swat your ass. Hard.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.


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Saturday Spankings 5/8/2015 – A Dom’s POV – #SATSPANKS #SPANKING #BDSM #ROMANCE




99 cents through May 11

Something a bit different


I spank for pleasure, and I spank for punishment.
The choice is yours.

Lying never ends well.
And somehow, I always find out.

Head games are a lose/lose.
I have to find aspirin, and you, a soft place to sit.

You can do anything you want.
Just be aware of the consequences.

I don’t like to cane,
but there is a rod in my closet, so…

Instructions are to be followed.
If you’re not sure I meant it, don’t, and see what happens.

My nature is to nurture.
Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness.

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Dominance and Submission: No Games! #ASMSG #SPANKING #BDSM #EARTG

Originally posted on A Faded Romantic's Notebook:


She must want it

She must want it so badly she could cry out loud. So hungrily that she can taste it. So desperately that she plays out wild scenarios in her mind a dozen times a day.

She must ache, must yearn, must desire.

She must long for, must crave, must lust.

She must feel her submission tearing at her, knotting her up, begging, pleading, screaming for release.

She must need his discipline like a drug, his control like an obsession, his instruction like a prayer.

She must want to serve and please him from the very depths of her soul.

She must want it.

Or it is just a game

And I

don’t play games.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from the lovely ugi90

I originally posted this almost exactly a year ago. Nothing has changed – except I have less patience for games. Smiles. Audio added to justify the re-post.

View original

Dominance and submission – WANTED: A Man’s Hot Loving Hand. #ASMSG #EARTG #SPANKING

She is wired and tired,


frazzled and frantic.

Forgetful and confused,

her focus is blurred,

her center is tilted.

She lost in a sea of too much thought.

A heavy fog shrouds the road ahead,

a road she knows is full of twists and turns,

brambles and potholes.

Her knees are scraped,

her eyes are red,

her heart is burdened.

But there is a way out of the maze.

She knows it exists.

She’s been there.

A place where confused thought is banished.

Sunbeams light the way ahead,

the heavy gray mist evaporates,

and safe passage down the road is assured.

The clarity is delivered by a hand.

A man’s hand.


Sometimes alone, sometimes carrying a friend,

the hand delivers distraction, 

then nothingness,

then heat,

then peace.

Wanted: A Man’s Hot Loving Hand.


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