The world of BDSM, this shadowy subculture of sexual desire and expression, was here when we arrived. We as individuals did not make it, and it is not in fact a fixed, clearly defined world. Abstractly described, it is an arrangement of sexually charged power relations embodied in actions representing control and acquiescence, using a variety of objects in various ways which for historical reasons suggest to us a material demonstration of that power or obedience we seek to express. The leather, rope and metal; the collars, cuffs, whips, clamps, hoods and gags; the dungeon and its furniture; the positions and words of deference or command; the historically laden terminology; the fictional, perhaps impossible, exemplars that fire our imagination: All of this comes before us already formed and ready to be drawn upon to represent our own power relations, our own particular expressions of dominance and submission. Some of it we like and use, some of it we ignore or dabble with and then discard. Only our specific choices are our own. The variety from which we choose, the things we employ, the words we say, the attitudes we express have all preceded us. We don't invent much of anything, but rather take on a role or relational position with its attendant actions, objects and words. Herein lies the semiotics of our sexual selves.

It isn't that our lives outside the world of BDSM are free from predefined meanings embedded within social and genetic structures. It is like this for us everywhere and always. It is only our choices that make us unique. Most of the things we do have already been done and sometimes in the very way we do them ourselves. Sometimes because it's a very good way to do it and the objects or words get the job done the way we want. But sometimes what we do we do only because we can't imagine doing it differently or we're comfortable with the conventional ways and see no reason to strike out on our own. Why build a new road when the old one will do? If it gets us to our goal and we don't mind the trip why bother with a new uncertain route in a vehicle we're not sure about?

This isn't to say there is anything wrong with sticking to conventional methods and equipment, using solidly established terminology and well-tested protocols, participating in group-think or looking to others for guidance and ideas. This is how we learn. This is how we get along and discover what we like. We look at the options, consider the consequences for pleasure and satisfaction, and select what we think will work for what we hope to achieve.

But what is it that we want? Can we separate the goal from the method? Or are they equivalent within our desire? Is it possible to "do BDSM" without the trappings conventionally associated with it? Surely, without restraint there is no bondage; without some method of inducing pain, some physical or psychological distress, there is no S/m; without commands, however they may be given, there is no D/s. But the methods of BDSM are enacted in order to achieve more than merely their enactment. Something is wanted that these methods give as concurrent achievements. It's those concurrent achievements that are really wanted, and if they weren't given (as in sex without the erotic charge or without the climax of orgasm) they would lose their appeal. It's the erotic meaning within the acts, words, and objects, and within the pre-given methods of their use, that fashion our desire. It is what these things mean to us that makes them desirable.

But we did not give them this meaning without influence, nor without those meanings ever being given by anyone else. In this sense we have simply read the meanings off the object, action and event. It is erotic for us, as it is for others, but we did not create that meaning. It was already there within our culture. We only choose to accept it and let it carry that meaning for us. But where did that meaning come from?

Can we make other choices? Is it possible for us to achieve our goal with different objects, actions, events or words? Have we really explored the possibilities or have we just traveled along what we think is the only path? To what extent do we in fact (willfully or not) situate erotic meaning in the phenomena of our lives? Do we have any control over our arousal? Certainly we have some, and through mental associations and physical experiences we can lose or acquire an erotic meaning to particular objects, actions, events or words. Are some of the associations questionable and ready to be replaced? Have we limited ourselves, denied ourselves experiences, or stayed within the conventional boundaries of our subculture because we didn't understand just how conventional, and therefore discardible, some of these meanings were? What is necessary and essential to this lifestyle and what is not? What feels like it is but isn't?

Don't be afraid to roll your own.