When I couldn’t find my own love there’s many said to me go find yourself a master who will see to all your needs. I did not true believe them it seemed so contra’ry, that suffering and bondage would so set me free.
I fought and riled against it, that was not to be the way that I should be subjected to mindless kinky play. Then one day I met him the one who was to be; he was so softly spoken in no way masterly.
But then he looked so very deep as slow his hand found mine, and then as if in knowing me my fears just fell away. I felt a need to surrender self without being ordered to, o'erwhelmed with such desire to know of bondage new.
Somehow it seemed so natural to offer him my hands, that they could be so bound to give all of self to him. As knots closed tight upon me it was as I’d been told, a sudden surge of freedom that I thought could never be.
And now he is my master he owns me totally and never have I been happier when he takes his whip to me. Or ties me when I need it and sometimes when I don’t, as long as I can have the bonds that hold me in ecstasy.
From the Francesca Anderssen collection Of 101 BDSM Poems, The poetry and beauty of bondage , (kindle and paperback editions) http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00VU4CPCG/