Ozzie nodded in reply as he helped Thrax to hang his trench-coat and take off his shoes. While they were in Gregory Metropolis, the Master-Slave duo have decided to lay low at the mole area, since it was probably the most unimportant area of the body. In the mole, the lifestyle there was pretty much more towards the night life, and when the Mole Blitz disco pub was not in business in the day, people would be in their homes, either sound asleep or getting on with their daily lives as working citizens of Gregory, barely even noticing a nasty virus and his partially infected slave living around the corner. Staying in a 3-fat hotel nearby the disco pub, they went out to many parts of the city trying to recruit as much germs and bacteria lackeys as possible, with the help of Klepta, of course.
It seemed that Gregory, despite taking pride in living life to the fullest, did not exactly work in the most sanitary conditions. Gregory’s job was in a construction site as a brick-layer and cement-mixer and no matter how he showered and scrubbed after work, there are still germs that might manage to get past immunity and made residence within Gregory Metropolis. As much as Thrax hated to admit it, he knew Klepta had been in the city longer than he was and knew almost every badass germ and bacteria around. He had not wanted his half-brother to help him with his recruiting scheme but thanks to Ozzie who persuaded him to at least give him a shot (adding that he was going to need all the help he could get), Thrax grudgingly allowed Klepta to steal the show for the moment, rounding up his much needed assistance by bringing in every night as much of his buddies as he could gather during the day to go to Thrax’s little secret meetings at the private room in the pub.
“I didn’t think Klepta would be such a people person,” Ozzie said almost admiringly. “Thanks to him, we might actually get this over and done with in no time.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Thrax muttered in an annoyed tone, then grabbed Ozzie from behind by the waist and grumbled, “Enough about Klepta. I don’t like you talking about him in front of me.”
“Sorry, Master. B…But if you just give him a chance, I’m sure…”
“Oh, sure! I bet you’re hunky-dory fine with him, ain’t cha? I bet you’re wonderin’ how he might feel inside you once you got him in bed and all.”
“That’s not true!” Ozzie protested, failing to notice the hint of something different in Thrax’s tone. “I would never think of your brother that way! He’s just…well, I’m surprised that I might put it this way but, yeah, he’s just like a friend to me, is all.”
“Oh yeah?” Thrax challenged, pushing Ozzie against the wall. “Is that why he’s always lookin’ like he just spent too much time with the Viagra commies when he’s around you? Is that why he’s always so sweet-talking you into doing whatever he wants with no regards of my presence whatsoever? Is that why he’s always trying to steal a grope anywhere and everywhere on your body—and I had to reprimand him on that over and over again—and always putting his arms around your shoulder like as you’re best buds forever or something? What are you trying to do? Make me jealous? Nice try, Jones, but it’s not working!”
“C-Come on, Master…Y-You’re being ridiculous,” Ozzie stuttered, starting to feel the possibility of a punishment coming in. “I-I-If only you would just…you know…just get to know Klepta a little better, m-m-maybe…”
Before Ozzie could finish his words, something that felt—and tasted—like fabric was stuffed into his mouth out of nowhere. It was so huge and thick that Ozzie couldn’t widen his mouth despite his elasticity to spit it out. He wanted to take it out but Thrax’s glowing killer claw was quickly pressed lightly against his Adam’s apple as a warning, making him swallow in fear.
“Don’t you even think about it, Jones,” Thrax growled, his yellow eyes glaring dangerously at him. “And don’t say another word about Klepta. Have you forgotten who you are? Who you belong to?”
Ozzie let out a muffled whine, shaking his head slightly, not sure whether it meant for begging Thrax not to hurt him or that he had not forgotten his servitude to Thrax.
“Don’t try telling me about whether or not I know my brother. I know him well enough to not trust him, even if he is related to me in blood. Do you want whatever happened to you with Finn to repeat itself on Klepta? I’d hate to hurt you again, and I’d hate to kill a brother.”
Ozzie shook his head immediately this time, his eyes starting to brim with tears as he was reminded of his brutal experience of being torn apart repeatedly and the pain of losing a child that felt like he was being hit by a freight train. Thrax scowled as he hastily brushed the tears off Ozzie’s eyes and attached the leash to his collar before dragging him into the bedroom.
“No point using your tears on me this time, baby. You are still going to be punished for smart-talking at me.”
So saying, he made Ozzie sit down on the floor by pushing down on the cell’s shoulders. Ozzie watched in fearful anticipation as Thrax walked out of the room to goodness knows where. He could hear him slam the door, assuming that he left the motel and waited for about 30 seconds before Thrax’s return could be heard with another sound of a slamming door. He had wanted to take out the gag if the virus wasn’t going to show up anytime soon but luckily pulled his hand away at the last minute, all the while remaining seated at his spot for fear of being caught walking around without the virus’ permission. Thrax, who was holding a shopping bag in his hand, took a look at Ozzie still the way he was and smirked.
“Good boy,” Thrax said as he fished out the thing from the shopping bag and threw it at Ozzie’s knees. It was a bundle of rope usually used to tie bulky things—the kind that was also used to tie people with. When asked by Ozzie’s questioning eyes, Thrax smirked again, picked up the bundle of rope and tapped one end against Ozzie’s cheek, saying, “I’m sure you have an idea what this is about. I have always wanted to try this ever since I tried to kill a guy who watched way too much Japanese porn.”
Without warning, the virus pulled Ozzie up to his feet and undid the bundle of rope. He started off by tying the neck area, moving towards the chest, the arms, the waist, between the cell’s legs—digging into his crotch in the process—and then around the wrist of the cell’s half-nelson arms. By the time he was done, Ozzie found himself bound in the classic Japanese bondage of the BDSM culture.
“Perfect,” Thrax smiled in satisfaction. He lowere Ozzie’s pants within the confines until his bare buttocks were showing. The cell winced a little as he felt the robe rubbing coarsely against the membrane of his ass, wondering nervously what his Master was trying to do.
Pulling at the leash, Thrax made Ozzie fall face down onto his lap. The cell knew this motion too well: he was going to be spanked as punishment. He could hear Thrax unbuckling his belt and could hear the sound of the belt being folded into half. It had been a very long while since he was last spanked and his heart felt as if it was climbing up to his throat as the feeling of trepidation crept in.
“You know I don’t enjoy doing this, baby,” Thrax said not as a question, but as a statement.
Even though Ozzie knew that in truth, he felt the exact opposite, he also knew better than to contradict him. Ozzie nodded, reluctantly resigned to his fate.
“You know I’m doing this for your own good.”
Ozzie nodded again.
“Good boy.”
With that, the crack of Thrax’s belt was soon heard on his buttock, delivering its first sting. Before it had a chance to simmer down, another one came. Ozzie tried to send his mind elsewhere, to focus on anything other than the pain, but the strength of Thrax’s blow and the toughness of Thrax’s belt that hit him were too strong for him to concentrate on anything else. If it weren’t for the gag in his mouth, he would’ve been biting his lip till it bled, or worse, his tongue. After about 5 minutes, Ozzie couldn’t take it anymore. He felt as if his membrane was going to peel and his ass was going to bleed all over the place. Tears falling freely down his cheeks, he let out muffled screams after screams, shaking his head and begging Thrax to stop with his sobs. Thrax still gave him no quarter. He continued spanking him with the belt for another 3 more minutes until Ozzie was sobbing desperately and uncontrollably, his face a salty teary mess.
“I’m not done with you yet, Jones,” Thrax landed a last extra hard whack on Ozzie’s brutalized butt before pushing him off his lap harshly, making him fall unceremoniously on the floor. With one hand, he held Ozzie’s head down onto the floor to keep him in place while he made the cell to be on his knees with the other. As Ozzie sobbed, he could heart Thrax rummaging through his trench-coat for something and putting it onto the floor, but he couldn’t turn to see because of Thrax’s hold on his head.
“We haven’t properly fucked since the day at the park at Serione’s,” Thrax said in devious tone, “and I’d like to savour the moment, take my time doing this. Besides, I see someone here seeming to enjoy being punished.”
Ozzie gasped as he felt Thrax’s hand on his own cock. He was horrified to find that his member was actually rock hard before the virus even touched him, and when Thrax reached to pinch the painful bruises on his ass, the pain actually travelled down to his cock, tightening the pressure at the pit of his stomach. How did…Was he actually turned on from being spanked? Did his mind made him focus the pain into the wrong direction? Was he a masochist or something? Those were the thoughts that went through his horrified mind as he tried to hold back his moans when the virus stroked him ever so gently, just to tease him.
“I see we are ready now,” Thrax announced as he put a generous amount of saliva on his normal claws. “Stay still now, baby, unless you wanna bleed from inside your ass.”
The cell shuddered to think what his Master would do as he obeyed. Staying as still as possible, he could feel Thrax’s sharp claw slowly probing him before inching his way steadily into his entrance. The searing pain from the spanking had dissipated slightly, but it was still throbbing and Ozzie winced once in a while at the touch. Thrusting in and out in a controlled pace, he inched deeper and deeper into Ozzie, but was careful not to stab his sharp tip onto the cell’s prostate, leaving Ozzie with an odd reaching sensation but never really there. The virus then put in another claw and increased the speed, holding the tips together to prevent from cutting his pet. Ozzie, instead of sobbing like a baby before, started to moan beyond his control, unconsciously wanting Thrax to go deeper and make him see stars. His drool was totally drenching the gag in his mouth and started dribbling down his chin, staining the floor he was on, but at his body position right now, he wasn’t exactly in a situation to be neat and preppy. The only thing going through his mind right now was to have his prostate banged relentlessly, giving in to his primal urges. Thrax noticed that and smirked knowingly.
“Impatient, are we?” Thrax asked as he removed his fingers out of Ozzie’s hole, making the cell almost—and I mean almost—whine in protest at the sudden emptiness. “But you are not gonna get me just yet, baby. You are still being punished, and I am not going to go easy on you this time. You’re gonna have to settle for this.”
So saying, Thrax flipped Ozzie over into missionary position. He pushed the cell’s hips high until his head was between his knees and Ozzie could see his own buttocks as red as a monkey’s bottom, with certain areas where the blows were harder sporting black and blue. Out of the blue, he saw Thrax picking up a reddish-blue dildo probably about ¾ the size of the virus’ own rod, making the cell realize that it was the thing he heard his Master rummaging about and putting on the floor. Using his wet gag and the drool puddle he made on the floor, Thrax lubricated the dildo thoroughly.
“Make it nice and wet and it’ll go in smoothly,” Thrax said as Ozzie watched the dildo wiped across his saliva-drenched gag to prepare it. The virus even let a little bit of drool trickle from his own tongue on the inside for good measure before sliding it into Ozzie’s puckered entrance in one hard thrust, hitting the spot straightaway.
Ozzie lost all common sense now that the toy was in his ass ramming against where he wanted it to be. He didn’t care that Thrax continued to slap his already aching butt in intervals. He didn’t care that the virus was thrusting the toy roughly in and out his ass, rubbing against the areas where he was brutally spanked. He couldn’t care less that he was moaning, whining and groaning like a slut on steroids. All he could care was the wonderful feeling as the pain from being spanked sending jolts of pleasure down his spine and making the pit of his stomach impossibly tighter; the glorious feeling of the dildo banging against the spot that drove him bat-crazy with the white hot flashes in his mind’s eyes; and the clawed hands that wrapped around his cock and pumped it aligned with the thrusting rhythm.
When the thrusting and pumping increased its speed for the third time since he was being subjected to this torture, it was all Ozzie could do to hold back. He widened his eyes and shook his head hard, trying to tell Thrax that he was losing control before letting go. His seed spilled all over the virus’ hand and splattered all over his chest and face because of the body position he was in. It felt like the ceiling came down on him before he got down from his high and he saw Thrax licking the cum off his hand while giving him a disapproving look.
“You cum too quickly, baby,” Thrax growled in annoyance. “You really are like a woman. Absolutely no self-control. I’m gonna have to leave you like this for that.”
True to his word, Thrax actually got up and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Ozzie in that position, tied like a sex prisoner with a dildo up his ass. Ozzie slowly lowered his butt and legs to the floor—wincing a little from the pain of his bruises on his baby blues—and succumbed to the lethargic effects of the afterglow.
Why are you doing this to me? Ozzie thought as he slowly closed his eyes. What exactly am I to you?
--:--
Ozzie slowly stirred from his goodness-knows-how-long slumber. He tried to open his eyes, but some sort of blindfold was holding them shut. He was glad to be finally rid of that uncomfortable gag in his mouth but it was replaced with another uncomfortable feeling on his arms. He tried to move them but found that they were lifted and stretched up over his head and tied by the wrist by the same course rope that was used on him for bondage before. He felt the rope tied to his right ankle as well but not exactly sure where it was tied to. A cool breeze from the motel air-conditioning told him that he was completely naked.
“Thra…I mean, M-Master…? Master, where are you?” Ozzie asked nervously, his vision in complete darkness. His heart started beating in fear as he wondered what was going on.
Before he could make sense of his situation, he felt something pulling at the rope tied on his ankle. He felt his leg lifted higher and higher until he felt like he was in a suspended high kick position. The pulling stopped and he could hear the end of the rope—wherever it was—tied onto to something to secure him in place.
“Master, is that you? Where are you? What in the name of Frank is going on here?”
“I’m right where I can see everything, baby.”
Ozzie gasped slightly as he heard Thrax’s voice somewhere in front of him. He had no idea that Thrax was now in his bathing robes, sitting in front of him watching as he sipped his drink he bought from the motel cafeteria while the rope that tied and lifted Ozzie’s leg was fastened around one of the legs of the bed they shared. He was even unaware that Thrax was actually kidding a little when he said he was going to leave him in that bound state with the toy up his ass. He had hid at one corner outside the bedroom and waited until Ozzie had literally konked out before stripping him bare and putting him in that situation.
“W…Where in Frank’s name are you? Why am I like this? What’s going on, Master?”
“Patience, baby. You’ll know soon enough. You might learn to enjoy this even. This is another one of humans’ deepest, darkest secret indulgence: exhibitionism. You are put in a spot where I can see everything, right down the last strand of your hair.”
“Wh…What…?” Ozzie stuttered. As he struggled to get out of his confines, he could somehow imagine Thrax’s sinister yellow eyes staring down at him. He could feel the eyes looking at every crevice of his body as he heard the sound of ice clinking against glass, telling him that he was having a drink while watching. Against his rationale mind telling him not to, he started thinking of Thrax the first time he saw him naked. He could just picture it now: Thrax with his slim, lithe body and his muscles pronounced at all the right places with only his manly underwear, circling him while drinking something alcoholic as he scanned him from head to toe. His imagination had made his body somehow react against his will.
“Ah, I see you’re actually turned on by this,” Thrax’s voice rang again, still at the same distance. “Are you sure you really are a virgin when I first asked you, baby?”
“No, that’s not true,” Ozzie denied quickly. “I’m not turned on.”
Slowly, he could hear Thrax get from his seat and coming close to him, but not exactly very close. It was a very long silence before he was suddenly surprised by the flat side of the virus’ claw pressing against the thigh of his lifted leg. Ozzie couldn’t hold back the yelp and was shocked at his own voice. Did he actually cry an octave higher?
“You may say that you’re not,” Thrax said as he reached up to pinch the inverted membrane on Ozzie’s chest with one hand and probed Ozzie’s manhood with the other, making the cell squirm, “but your body is the most honest thing I’ve seen so far, don’t you agree, baby?”
“B-B-But didn’t we…well…you know…didn’t we do it already just now, Master…?” Ozzie whined, not really sure if he could go another round of cumming like crazy.
“Are you all done with just a toy up your ass?” Thrax asked in mock surprise, licking the almost invisible concaved membrane that was the cell’s ear. “I’m not quite done with you yet. I haven’t even get to fuck you properly yet.”
“Y-Yes, Master…I mean, do as you will to me. If…If you’re not satisfied…then I’m not satisfied…” Ozzie couldn’t believe what he just said. Those words just came out of his mouth in its own accord. Was he really a slut? A man-whore?
“Such a demanding slave I got here,” Thrax chuckled, running his hands along and around Ozzie’s naked body. “But unless you tell me, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”
Ozzie felt so degraded. He knew Thrax was not going to be satisfied until he made him say it, made him beg for it.
“Please, Master…Please torment me some more…”
“Good boy.”
With that, Thrax broke contact with Ozzie and started walking away, possibly circling him. Ozzie was left there hanging for what felt like a dark eternity, only occasionally hearing and feeling his Master out of the blue.
“Now let’s see where should I start first…Should I give to him here,” Ozzie felt Thrax’s tongue running along the muscles on his chest, “or should I touch him here,” his hand ghosted on Ozzie’s ass, “or maybe he likes it here,” the flat side of Thrax’s warm killer claw traced along his manhood, “or maybe I should just caress him here?”
Ozzie was driven both crazy and in fear, probably a little bit in excitement, as since he couldn’t see anything and with his awkward position, he couldn’t predict his Master’s next move. He could feel his body tingling with pleasure, the wonting rekindled on his cock but no means of releasing it because Thrax was teasing him more than he should be giving him what his body—as much as he hated to admit it—truly wanted. Thrax continued to massage his chest and buttocks, which were still hurting and probably swelling from the spanking, for a while before his hands snaked down to the cell’s cock and started pumping him in a nice and slow rhythm. It was just enough to give Ozzie the pleasure he wanted but not enough for the release he needed. Ozzie’s hips automatically gyrated, wanting to thrust at something.
“I see someone really excited here,” Thrax’s husky voice whispered near his ear, deliberately releasing his hold on the member. “Are we going to cum now?”
Ozzie shook his head quickly. The last thing he wanted to admit lest he got another punishment was to say that he was probably going to explode by just his Master’s touch alone.
“No use hiding it from me, baby. I can see everything, remember? Your cock is twitching. Looks like it’s gonna blow anytime soon.”
“M-M-Master…Please…” Ozzie threw all sense of dignity out the window. Right now, he really needed the release after all that fondling and foreplay.
“Not just yet, baby. A true connoisseur loves to look at these poses. Drink in the sight as much as possible before they claim their prize.”
Ozzie could hear Thrax from where he heard him the first time and he could hear the clinking of ice on glass again as he sipped his drink. He knew it. He knew he was not going to move from his spot until he heard what he wanted his slave to say. He knew he was going to sit there watching him desperately trying to reach the pinnacle of Heaven but never ever going to get there without his help in this matter. He knew he was going to make him beg, but now it was neither the time nor the situation to let pride take over him. He stopped struggling and slumped as much as his bound body allowed him to, resigned to his fate.
“Please, Master…I beg you…Please stick it in me…Please…!”
He heard Thrax chuckle and the sound of the drink being put down before Thrax’s clawed hands were on both his hips. He felt his other leg lifted up and wrapped around Thrax’s waist and could feel the fabric of Thrax’s bathing robes against his membrane. The huge familiar rod was slipped into him, the ridges rubbing against his inner muscles as he was entered in one slow motion. He was quite surprised to feel that Thrax’s cock was actually already lubricated beforehand and it slid it easily. Soon, after adjusting some, he felt his Master starting thrusting into him in a steady rhythm. Ozzie moaned at the movement, feeling euphoric as the virus shifted his angle just right to jab his prostate that soon sent his mind into total unadulterated lust mode.
“I want you to really remember who you belong to,” Thrax growled as he slammed himself deeper and harder into Ozzie, venting out all his pent up strength. “Say it, Jones. Say who you belong to.”
That was when Ozzie truly realized that, despite the harsh tones and the killer moves he made on him to punish him, he was just trying to show it in his own way that he was actually jealous. The virus was actually jealous that he was being a little too friendly with his brother and had paid attention more to him than to Thrax. All this spanking, sex toy-playing, bondage…it all came down to one conclusion: A jealous, insecure virus who didn’t want his over-possessiveness to be outsmarted by his brother whom his pet only just met a few days ago.
“Y-Y-Yes, Master…I-I-I belong to you…To you only…” Ozzie breathed those words, his climax getting closer as his prostate continued to be assaulted.
“I want you to get my damn half-brother out of your system and think of no one but me.”
“Yes, Master…I promise…you will be the first and last person…on my mind…”
“I want you to get it in your head that I am your Master, not Klepta, and he doesn’t boss you around; I do.”
“Yes, Master…I will do…no one’s bidding but yours…”
“You will let no one touch you unless I allow it, and you will let no one have this body but me. Understand?”
“Yes, Master…My body…and soul…belongs to you only…”
With those last words, Ozzie felt the pace had increased to a speed only Thrax could match. The pit of his stomach got tighter and tighter with each thrust and each hit aimed on his sweet spot. He could take it no longer.
“M-M-Master…! I’m going to cum…!”
“Me too, baby…!”
In a split second, Thrax pulled out and squeezed Ozzie’s thighs together to sandwich his member before both of them let out their seed onto each other, splattering their warm liquid until they mixed together that you couldn’t tell which ones belonged to whom. After they calmed down from their tremors, Thrax lowered him down and released his lifted leg to the floor. Ozzie had to hobble a little because he was getting a bit of pins and needles from the lack of blood on the foot. His blindfold was removed and he could see an almost blurred vision of Thrax standing right in front of him under the dim glow of the bedside table lamp as his eyes slowly adjusted to the light. His arms were still not taken down though.
“Have you learnt your lesson now, baby?” Thrax asked, cupping his clawed hands on Ozzie’s cheeks.
Ozzie nodded obediently, too tired from the second afterglow to say anything.
“Will you ever smart-talk to me again?”
Ozzie shook his head.
“Good. Then you are forgiven.”
So saying, the virus embraced the cell, laying the latter’s head on the crook of his neck. He held him like that for a while before letting him go, his face showing as if that act had not happened as he undid the ropes that held up his slave’s arms captive. Almost instantly, Ozzie fell forward into Thrax’s arms, too weak to stand properly, in which the virus caught him just in time.
“It’s been a long day for you. Let’s take a bath. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”
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