The new cuffs make opening myself up that much easier, but it’s not magic. Rather, the steady, even, irresistible pressure on my wrists has a way of snapping me into a deep subspace; a place where my body and mind gape open with need.
Always horned up. Camping in the middle of the woods with no one around turns the horned up factor to 11. Tent reeks of sweat, cum, and campfire. You know what they say: take only photos, and leave only pecker tracks! And that is just what I did :-)