Puzzle Piece from Another Box

Am I the only one who feels this way, alone, confused
Wrestling with desires that seem to contradict who I am

For otherwise my life is so blessed, nearly perfect I'd say
Save this one thing that's missing, yet so essential

That denying it makes me feel phony, not being authentic
While sharing it brings guilt and shame with an evil grin

You see I am a gentle, loving man who seeks to be good
But has this wicked streak running thru my very core

My conduct is almost always becoming, a gentleman's gentleman
Except in my darkest fantasies where my kinkiness hydes

There I relish and indulge in the vieled world of leather and lash
Where tenderness is surplanted by roughness and sadistic play

It's more than just a pipe dream, having lived it in the flesh
Feeling the surge of adrenaline and godlike omnipotence

Driving the submissives before me down, into sexual genuflection
Eclipsing the sun, curbing time itself, locking them all in inescapble bondage

Playing their longing bodies like stolen instruments, cruelly strummed and plucked
Making them sing in both sweetest agony and blissfull ecstacy, within their consensual limits

Giving them each what they need, taking them where they desperately want to go
Then unfolding a script tailor made, bringing unparalled climaxes

Savoring my own lust, my own addiction, this erotic catnip
Feeling authentic, complete, and all powerful

But when it is over, finished, I pick up this puzzle piece that doesn't fit
Carefully hiding it somewhere safe, separated from all the other parts of me, till the next time