Greer
Copyright© 2026 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 1: You’re Such a Tease
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be landing shortly. The captain will begin our descent in just a few minutes. Please return to your seat and fasten your seat belt.”
I paused, glancing around the empty cabin. “And if you’re in full restraints, please have your man take care of that for you.”
I clicked off the cabin phone, laughing as I slid off the seat and straightened my uniform.
John laughed as he entered the cockpit. “You’ve been wanting to say that for the past two hours, haven’t you?”
I nodded, still laughing. “Since I saw her. Yeah.”
I picked up the phone again. “Just a reminder that, for the duration of the flight, your flight attendant is here to make your journey as comfortable as possible.”
I smiled to myself. “Even if your man keeps you in restraints and you can’t actually do anything about it.”
John chuckled.
I looked toward him. “What the fuck was that?”
He was still chuckling, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I mean,” I continued, “we’ve seen some fucked-up shit, but that?”
I leaned against the seat and looked around the empty cabin, still shaking my head.
“Why can’t they just get high or fuck in the bathroom like all the other entitled assholes we fly around?”
John laughed. “You do get to see the fun stuff.”
I glanced toward the seat where she’d spent most of the flight.
“We’ve had celebrities bring girls along who were obviously toys. You roll your eyes, do your job, and forget about it.”
I shook my head.
“But her?”
I looked at the empty seat again.
“She couldn’t even reach her own drink. I had to get her a straw, and she had to lean forward because her hands were chained to her waist.”
John went quiet.
I put on my best flight-attendant voice. “Would you like anything else, ma’am?”
Then I dropped my voice. “Maybe some self-respect.”
John smiled.
I grinned and picked up the phone again. “And thank you for flying with us today. Oh, and please watch your step.”
I nodded solemnly to myself. “Particularly those of you in come-and-fuck-me heels with your ankles chained together.”
“You’re horrible,” John said.
I just looked at him. “Really? You saw the leather suit she was wearing. Sure, she’s attractive. Great figure. But that suit showed off every inch of it. And those heels?”
I started counting on my fingers.
“Women don’t wear heels like that unless they want to get fucked or some guy expects them to.”
John just stared at me.
“What?” I said. “You know I’m right.”
I glanced toward the empty seat.
“You weren’t back here with them. With those clothes and those restraints, she was completely helpless.”
John’s smile faded a little.
“In her defense, she looked mortified,” he said. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t her doing.”
“Weren’t you listening? Those were designer stockings,” I said, bending down and tugging at my own pantyhose until they snapped back against my leg. “Not department-store. And with a business suit?”
I straightened up.
“That suit, fine. It was tight, but whatever. But those stockings and those fucking skyscraper heels? On a flight?”
I shook my head.
“So, yeah. No shit it wasn’t her doing.”
My voice came out dripping with sarcasm.
“She wasn’t the one who decided to dress like some office-slut Barbie and get chained up like a prison bitch. That was all him.”
John gave a little shrug. “I’m just saying.”
“I know what you’re saying.”
I put the phone back in its cradle.
For a moment, I didn’t say anything.
The jokes suddenly didn’t seem quite as funny.
“We’ve seen people treat women like accessories before,” I said. “That’s nothing new on these flights. Rich guy, beautiful girl, expensive champagne, everybody pretending not to notice what’s going on.”
I looked toward the door they’d disappeared through.
“But that?”
I shook my head slowly.
“That wasn’t just bringing a girl along because she looked good beside him.”
John didn’t answer.
“She couldn’t move. Couldn’t reach for her own drink. Couldn’t even get up and walk to the bathroom. He had her completely dependent on him for everything.”
I gave a short, humorless laugh.
“And she just ... let him.”
John looked back at me. “Maybe she doesn’t have a choice. Better life ... just has to tolerate his quirks.”
“Maybe” I folded my arms. “Pretty fucked-up quirks.”
The cabin was quiet for a moment.
Then I looked down at my uniform and shook my head.
“Still doesn’t make it better,” I sighed. “I don’t understand why any woman would willingly give that much of herself to a man. Even her name. I’m pretty sure her parents didn’t name her Vixen.”
John didn’t say anything.
I glanced toward the empty seat one last time.
“I guess that’s the part that bothers me.”
I pulled my carry-on from one of the compartments. The cuffs we kept in the cabin in case they were needed slipped out and hit the floor.
“The restraints were fucked up,” I said, bending down to pick them up. “But watching her accept them like that?”
“You almost done?” I called to John, but he’d already left the cockpit and was standing in front of me.
“Change of heart?” he said, grinning as he looked at the cuffs in my hand.
“Very funny.” I said folding them. “They fell out when I was getting my bag.”
He just smiled.
I looked at him. “You’d love to see me in these.”
I tossed them back into the compartment. They unfolded, hit the side, and fell right back onto the floor.
“You’re such a man,” I said as they clattered.
“They don’t seem to want to go back. They want to stay out and play,” he said, chuckling as I bent down and picked them up again.
I looked at the cuffs in my hand, then at him.
“You really are twelve years old.”
“You’re the one who said I’d like to see you in them.”
“I was making fun of you.”
“Sure.”
I rolled my eyes, then looked at the cuffs.
“Okay. So, what do I get?”
He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
I held them up. “If I actually put these on.”
He smiled. “Are we negotiating?”
“Obviously.”
“You’re serious?” He looked at me for a moment, like he was trying to decide if I was actually going to do it.
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “Dinner.”
I huffed. “You’re buying dinner anyway.”
“That’s presumptuous of you.”
I just looked at him.
“Fine,” he said. “We can do the Maldives.”
“Really?” I looked at him skeptically. “You’ve been fighting me on that for months.”
“I’d be willing to give up Fiji for the Maldives,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow still skeptical.
“But,” he added, nodding toward the cuffs in my hand, “you’re in those until we get to the room.”
I looked down at them, then back at him, thinking about it. “Fine.”
I snapped one cuff around my wrist. I was about to lock the other one on when John caught my wrist.
“Wait,” I said.
He turned me around, and I looked back at him. “What are you doing?”
“We didn’t say they had to be in front.”
Before I could answer, he brought my other hand behind my back and clicked the second cuff around my wrist.
I started to turn around, but he held me in place.
“Not yet,” he said, reaching into the compartment and pulling out the pen key. “Need to double-lock them.”
“John!” I said, looking back at him. “I’m serious—I want them in front.”
He was grinning as I heard the little clicks.
“I’ll move your hands to the front later,” he said. “You don’t need them in front right now.”
I turned as he stepped back, then watched him slip the pen key into his pocket.
I tugged at the cuffs. “Really? Palms out?”
“More comfortable that way,” he replied. “You had the same training I did.”
I gave him a look.
“Let me get these down, then I’ll come back for you.”
He grabbed both bags and headed down the stairs. A moment later, he was back.
“Ready?” he asked, smiling.
I looked at him. “We’re doing every fucking excursion in the Maldives.”
He laughed, took a firm hold of my upper arm, and guided me toward the stairs. I had to take them carefully in my heels, especially with my skirt making it harder to see exactly where I was putting my feet. He slowed down without making a big deal of it, keeping a steady grip on my arm while I picked my way down one step at a time.
“Careful,” he said.
“I know how to walk in heels.”
“You’re the one taking five minutes to get down the stairs.”
“Because someone decided to put my hands behind my back.”
He laughed.
When we reached the tarmac, I stood by our luggage while he closed up the plane.
He came back, pulled the handles up on both carry-ons, and brought mine around behind me. He slid the handle up between my hands, brushing my fingers as he settled it into place so I could grip it.
“Huh,” I said. “Seriously? I’m pulling my own luggage?”
“Your hands are perfectly placed,” he said with a shrug. “And if anyone sees you, it’ll look completely natural.”
He glanced behind me. “Your jacket sleeve covers most of the cuffs. No one might notice you’re in them.”
I rolled my eyes, then leaned back slightly and caught the handle with my hands before stepping forward.
The frustrating part was, he was right.
He grabbed his bag, and we headed toward the small terminal building.
“Okay?” he asked after a minute, looking over at me.
“Fine,” I said, not looking at him.
He chuckled.
“What?”
“You look good in those.”
“You’re such a man.”
We reached the building, and he opened the door for me. I stepped inside and stood beside the luggage while he went over to the desk.
He spoke with one of the ground guys for a few minutes, sorting out the aircraft for the night and confirming our departure for the following morning.
I waited beside the bags, watching him from across the room.
A few minutes later, he came back.
“All set.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I’m starting to regret agreeing to this.”
He grinned. “Too late,” he said, grabbing my arm as we headed for the doors.
“Greer?”
I turned at the sound of my name.
A woman in a flight-attendant uniform was coming toward me with a huge smile.
“Hey!” I said, smiling back. “Angelica.”
She opened her arms, obviously going in for a hug. I smiled and leaned toward her, but when I tried to put my arms around her, I couldn’t.
She laughed. “What? Don’t want to hug an old friend?”
“She can’t right now,” John said.
I glanced at him, then turned slightly so she could see. She was going to see them anyway.
She tilted her head, still smiling, and stepped around me. That’s when she saw my wrists.
She blinked.
Then she started laughing.
“Are you in handcuffs?”
“Yeah.”
She stared at me for a second.
“Did they finally find out about all the shit we got up to in flight-attendant school? Mostly you.”
I laughed, trying not to think too hard about some of the things we’d actually done.
“No.”
I glanced at John. “Long story.”
“Obviously.”
She looked at him.
“He thought it would be funny.”
Her eyes came back to me. “And you agreed to this?”
“Unfortunately.”
She laughed and reached around me, running her fingers over the cuffs.