Spotlights illuminate only her in flight attendant bondage. Completely naked on a velvet pedestal, she becomes the exhibit. Slow strokes over hard nipples, down flat stomach, to slick folds. “They all want flight attendant bondage,” she purrs to the empty room, sliding three fingers inside while the fourth circles her clit. Security cameras record every moan of “flight attendant bondage… look at flight attendant bondage… worship flight attendant bondage.” Her hips roll like brushstrokes, faster, wetter, louder, until the masterpiece finishes—she squirts across the marble floor in shining ropes, screaming “flight attendant bondage!” as the gallery echoes with her name again and again.