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Project DTF – Season 2: Bonus


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The Project DTF house may be empty, but that doesn’t mean it’s over yet: there’s still plenty of hot footage you haven’t seen… until now. Today, catch professional chef Oliver Flynn cooking up something hot and tasty in the kitchen, helped out by scantily clad Scarlit Scandal, after the Day One orgy. But Scarlit’s still horny, so she invites Oliver into the confessional to get one more hot fuck!

My heart was beating fast, the prospect of my Friday night treat filling me with a mix of anticipation and adrenaline. The weeks of excitement since my flatmate had first told me he was going home for the weekend had all been leading up to this moment. I’d been into bondage for a couple of years and with no partner to play with, I had to satisfy my needs myself.

I had already laid everything out in preparation. The handcuffs, red ballgag, rope and the high-backed wooden chair I would tie myself to. I went to the freezer and pulled out the Tupperware of ice with the handcuff keys frozen inside. After about three hours, the ice should melt and with a minor struggle, I should be able to free myself.

I placed the ice on the table next to my chair and began my final checks. I sent a text to my friend Vanessa, “If I don’t text you in 3.5 hours please come and let me out, the key is under the doormat.”

“Of course, have fun,” she replied.

Vanessa and I were great friends, she was attractive but everything was always platonic. one night we’d had a few too many drinks and I let slip my passion for self-bondage and she was fascinated.

“But, how do you not get stuck?” she asked.

“A lot of struggling, thankfully I’ve never been caught, but Chris (my flatmate) has nearly walked in once or twice,” I replied, the alcohol removing my inhibitions.

“So when are you next going to do it?”

“Friday, when Chris goes back home.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? Nobody would be able to let you out?”

“I‘ve done it a lot and haven’t got stuck yet.”

“Hmm, I can let you out on Friday if you need.”

“Really? Thanks so much”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s what any good friend would do,” she said with a sly smile.

to clarify we squirted lube onto my silver butt plug, a nice medium-sized one and pushed it against my hole, gasping with pleasure as I worked it in, slowly stretching myself. One more push and it went in, my asshole swallowing it up greedily. he love feeling the weight of it, pushing its way against me, my body clenched, you let out a moan as the plug pulled against my prostate. I sat down on the chair, further pushing the plug into me, pushing me to a moment of ecstatic bliss. he swept my blonde hair to the side and ripped off my shirt, leaving me wearing just a pair of soft white briefs.

in short we put the ball gag in my mouth and tied it tightly around my head, making me drool slightly as my mouth hung open. she then tied each ankle to the legs of the chair, tightly securing my legs. she wrapped the rope around my chest enough times to fix me to the back of the chair, tying the knot and testing the tightness with a pull against the bonds. The rope held firm, leaving no space for movement, just how I like it. Finally, I slipped the handcuffs over my wrists, the metal biting slightly and with a final set of satisfying clicks the slut pushed the cuff closed, sealing my fate.

My heart raced as my boner pushed up against my white briefs, the muscles of my bare torso pumped from struggling as a thin layer of sweat gleamed under the lights. My brain was in overdrive, taking in all the different sensations, the subtle bite of the cuffs, the plug pushing up into me, the drool rolling down my chin from my gagged mouth and the tightness of the rope, keeping me immobilised and the sweet pull against my skin as I tried to move. All these sensations blended together and overwhelmed me, giving me an ecstatic high.

One Hour Later

My arms began to ache as I tired from the constant state of arousal, drunk on pleasure when I heard the sound of the door opening. A wave of terror and panic washed over me. Frantically, I struggled against the rope, desperately trying to escape as a pair of footsteps walked through the front door. My mind raced, had Chris not actually gone home? Had the landlord come round for a surprise inspection? I’d die from the embarrassment.

My restraints held despite me struggling when Vanessa’s voice rang out, “Well, well, well. This is an incredible sight”

“MMMPH?!” I tried to speak through my gag, my cheeks blushing red. Surely it hadn’t been three hours?

“Sorry, I didn’t quite understand that,” she said, giggling as she walked out in front of me, my cock hardened as I saw her six-foot frame accentuated by a tan trench coat, her luscious brown hair tied into a high bun, black leather boots falling just below the knee with matching black tights. My mind was overwhelmed by arousal.