Earth's Version of the Submission Collar
I met with Smith again and worked through the fine print of the deal.
The upshot was this.
"Ten thousand dollars is too steep. We don't have that kind of money to hand over. And even if we did, at a figure like that we'd have no choice but to sit in and watch the operation. You still fine with that?"
"Well. I'm afraid that would be a problem."
"So here's what we do. Forget a rate. Headcount doesn't matter. You take out the people we name, and we pay a bounty for it. One million dollars. At that level I can bury it in internal costs."
"Hmm. Look at it one way and it's a lot of money. Look at it another and it's nothing special."
"I'll throw in something else instead."
"Something else — such as?"
"Intel on the Al-Shabaab leadership. And the locations and related files on every regional stronghold the local CIA stations have mapped."
"Not bad. Then let's do it this way. You hand over the intel, and we dispose of the leadership you've asked for. In return, you lift the surveillance on our side. And you turn a blind eye to whatever gets done to Al-Shabaab. How does that sound? Neither of us stands to gain by minding the other's business, wouldn't you say?"
"Fine. We'll do it that way. Upstairs, I'll run it as the cost of hiring local agents. I won't have any reason to watch you. Raise whatever hell you want. Just don't lay a hand on civilians. That I won't tolerate."
"Don't worry about that. One of our mottos is help the virtuous and punish the wicked."
"Aren't you people the wicked of the wicked? You kidnap them by the hundreds and you think you've got the right to say that?"
"By that logic, the American government and the CIA are no different — firing missiles into the middle of a city street in the Middle East in broad daylight and killing people."
"You trying to pick a fight with us right now?"
"I'm only saying. So let's agree to stay off each other's turf. If proof ever turns up that we've touched ordinary people, then watch us or take us down — suit yourself."
"Yeah. Fair enough. Then we can call the deal done, right? When do you start?"
"Let's treat the intel you mentioned as the down payment. The moment it lands, we move."
"Good. I'll send it right over. Contact me when you've bagged the leadership. Don't forget the photos and the biometrics. I need those before I can process the bounty."
"Will do. Then."
And with that, the contract was sealed between the two sides.
Carrying the intel I'd taken from Smith, I left Nairobi.
On the flight back from Nairobi to Istanbul I dropped the polymorph, just as I had on the way in, and boarded under my real identity. Naturally, no such person as José existed in the immigration records. Heading from Istanbul to Mogadishu, though, I put José's face back on for the trip. Done this way, they wouldn't pin my location exactly — not even the government of the United States.
I arrived in Mogadishu and made contact with the slaves who had gotten there ahead of me. Fortunately the basement of the old mansion was still intact. I laid the operation out for Giovanni: how to use the Trojan horse, the quirks of the underground storehouse and how to work it. I turned over the truck laid with space-expansion magic as well, and the three other Somali slaves along with it.
Maybe because he already had a history in drug deals and human trafficking, Giovanni let a quiet confidence show.
"Master. Don't you worry. I'll see it done. No problems."
I also handed him whatever else he might need to operate out here. First, the Pendant of Silence.
Smith had promised to take us off surveillance, but I couldn't stake everything on that promise alone. Trigger the magic and it completely sealed any sound generated inside a set area — nothing leaked out. What made American military recon drones truly frightening wasn't the high-definition camera so much as the eavesdropping. The Pendant of Silence was precisely the means of slipping that long-range drone watch.
With it went a polymorph item to change a face, and an armor vest to serve as basic protection. I also passed along a strength-enhancement ring, an invisibility ring, and a flight ring, and against the chance of trouble I stocked a pistol, ammunition, and an assault rifle.
While I was gone, Giovanni would hunt slaves in my place and load whoever he caught onto the truck to haul them to Transilia.
I left the work in his hands and came back to Cairo. For a while now, it was time I stayed clear of this place. Hoping the slaves would each see through the work they'd been given, I changed back to my real identity and boarded the flight.
Aboard the plane bound for Korea.
Business class, and the seat, tipped all the way back, was comfortable. I'd traveled alone until now. This time was a little different. A gap stood between the seats, but Choi Jeong-ah sat in the one beside me with a camera up, filming for all she was worth.
"Today I'm finally on my way home after a long time away. The company put me in business class this trip, so I booked a business ticket. Some of you have probably flown it before, but for anyone who hasn't, I thought I'd do a review of the business-class seats on the flight to Korea~ Here we go~~."
Finished with the short clip, Jeong-ah snapped the record button off at once.
"Kyaa~ I love it~ Hahaha~"
"You like it that much?"
"Obviously~ It's my first time."
"Then film all you want. You've got to shoot while you've got the chance. Just don't forget what you promised me."
"Ugh~ Seriously. I'll film a reasonable amount and give you the signal. Got it?"
She winked one eye.
I sank back into the seat, already looking forward to it.
The plane, taxiing slowly, finally reached the head of the runway.
Wheeeee—
The engine note swelled, and then the huge fuselage tore forward at a furious speed. My whole body pressed back into the seat. A moment later, with the light sensation of lifting free, the plane climbed away toward the east.
Mid-flight, the last meal was done and the cabin lights went out. I laid the seat flat and drew the airline blanket over me.
Just as sleep was about to take me, I felt someone stir at my side.
Mm.
I turned my head and opened my eyes. Choi Jeong-ah was signaling me with a look, as if to ask whether I really meant to just sleep.
At the same time—
"How about now?"
With that she got up and walked toward the lavatory.
I snapped wide awake. I lifted my head and stole a glance around. The flight attendants must have stepped away; none of them were in sight. I kept the noise down, rose, and walked quietly toward the bathroom.
I already knew Jeong-ah had gone in ahead of me. But when I tried the door, the lock was off. Almost without meaning to, I checked once more whether anyone was watching, then slipped inside fast.
The lavatory was cramped. Jeong-ah, waiting, put on a show of surprise and let a sultry look slide my way.
"Aing~ What are you doing, coming in when someone's already in here~"
Sly little bitch. She knew exactly what a man liked. I shoved her against the wall and crushed my mouth to hers.
Mmph!
I sealed my lips over hers and drove my tongue into that mouth-cunt, plundering it however I pleased. My free hand didn't sit idle either. I hauled her in by the waist until our bodies met, and one hand closed over a full breast and kneaded it.
"Mmmp~ There isn't enough time to do it properly in here."
Jeong-ah pushed the kiss off and dropped to one knee in front of me. I stood still and enjoyed the show. Both hands drew my zipper down, then fished my fully roused cock out through the opening of my underwear. The erect thing sprang free, the head snapping up as if it had been launched. She took it lightly in one hand, stroked it slow, and looked up at me with a smile.
"You're really worked up. Should I put in a little effort?"
Then she opened her mouth and stuffed it between her lips.
Slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp.
"Hhk~"
I hadn't wanted to let anything out first, but sure enough a groan leaked from me all the same. She caught the glans between her lips and tickled the piss-slit with the tip of her tongue, and there was no enduring it. At the same time she sucked hard, drawing it deep into her mouth, then pulled off, over and over. Arousal swelled it further; the head kept rearing up. Each time, the crown rubbed the roof of her mouth and her lips and set a sharp, electric pleasure burning.
My hand dropped of its own accord and seized the back of Jeong-ah's head. The urge to ram it all the way in took hold of me, and I acted on it. Gripping her head, I drove my hips forward hard.
"Mmph!!"
I felt the glans force its way into her narrow throat.
"Ngh!"
Out, then back in. Out, then back in. I kept shoving it forward, again and again.
"Ngh! Ngh! Ngh! Ghk!"
She was choking. Jeong-ah shoved at my thighs, hit them, thrashed.
"Hold on a little. I'm about to come."
Ignoring what she wanted, I kept pistoning, fast and hard.
Mmph! Mmph! Mmph! Mmph! Mmmp!!
At the last, buried deep, pleasure detonated at the tip of the glans. The flare of it climbed my spine and struck the nape of my neck. I felt my thighs lock, heavy and tight, and I let go of the tension that had been clamped around my urethra.
Pshhhhh—
Spurt, spurt, spurt, spurt—
A cool rush, as if the fluid were draining out of my body, and the release of orgasm came through clean and sharp. I finished emptying myself, then drew my hips back.
"Cough! Cough! Hack! Hack!"
Only then, her throat clear, did Jeong-ah brace one hand on the floor and cough without stopping. I leaned my back against the wall and, for a moment, savored the pleasant throbbing aftershock.
Once she had her senses back, Jeong-ah snapped at me.
"Fuck~ I told you not to force it, for real~!"
"Hey. People will hear. Keep it down."
"I'm pissed, seriously. You perverted bastard."
"It just happened before I knew it. Sorry. Still, you ought to finish what you started. Suck it clean a little. It's still leaking."
A last bead of cum clung to the tip of the glans, unfinished. I brought the slack cock to Jeong-ah's cheek. She glared at me.
"What? You don't want to?"
She bit her lip for a moment. In the end she opened her mouth, caught the tip between her lips, and began to suck it clean.
There was no Submission Collar around her neck. But she already wore a collar of her own making — a Submission Collar forged from her own vanity, her hunger for recognition, and my money, the money that kept both of them fed.