Why? This is why!

By my Master’s feet I kneel,
      My wrists and ankles bound.
He always knows just how I feel,
      My weakness, He has found.

Controlled and punished and restrained,
      With chains and keys and locks.
Ruling me with pleasure and pain,
      And time within my box.

Used and abused, yet safe and secure,
      Held tightly in his arms.
Whenever I’m with Him I feel so sure,
        He’ll keep me safe from harm.

With Him, I lose my inhibition,
        He makes me feel so free.
This may seem like contradiction,
      When He has enslaved me.

Now, what most people do not see,
      Is that this is my choice.
And though I allow Him to own me,
        I keep my mind and voice.

I’m His because I choose to be,
      And not because of force.
He only wants what’s best for me,
      As I do too, of course.

So, held with metal, rope or leather,
      Or purely bound by His will.
I’m on my knees and His forever,
      Content to remain here, still.