The woman switched the flexi-cuffs for handcuffs and added another set to Karine’s ankles. From a small hassock that served as a storage bin, Florence removed a wide metal band and fitted it around Karine’s legs just above the knee, locking it with a small padlock.
“Collar her for now,” Brillcart said, not even looking up from his newspaper as the Cessna’s twin turbine engines spooled up and the brakes released. “If you wish, use her to amuse yourself once we get to cruising altitude. I’m going to the cockpit for the rest of the flight.”
The uniformed woman nodded and sat down on the couch, using Karine’s plush ass as a seat cushion and fastening the built-in seat belt. She ran her hand over the smooth thighs and then, looking at Brillcart, shrugged as though to say: “she isn’t my type”
