The Briar Patch

Over the years I’ve tried to share almost every kinky fantasy I’ve ever had. So it is hard to be sure which may be a redundant retelling. Besides nobody but me has read everything here.

I’ve especially wanted to note for my own sake very early fantasies that have long languished forgotten. Pity I never think to write these down since they often return to oblivion.

This was probably suggested by one of the Br’er Rabbit stories and surely precedes my reading of Larry Townsend’s The Leatherman’s Handbook and the gay tabloids that clued me into the realization that people actually do this stuff.

The mean person has left me stranded amid a field of brambles or some sort of dense growth of thorny plants. I’m nude. My only way out is to accept the punctures and scrapings of the thorns. Eventually hunger and thirst or fear of being alone there in the dark will force me out.

High in masochistic thrills and helplessness. But the sponsor cancelled support of the program fairly quickly. Not sure why. Maybe more entertaining programming pushed this one aside. My main kink was being beaten with just about everything included knotted electrical cord and spliced garden hoses in every possible position.