Poison-Chp2

It was a no-brainer that after killing Frank, Thrax had made it into the medical records. The dog they inhabited was watching TV together with its mistress and when Thrax went up onto the mutt’s forehead to test out Ozzie’s newly acquired ‘ability’, both of them saw the news showing on TV announcing Thrax’s existence due to Frank’s death in the hospital and all health precautions needed to be taken to prevent catching the ‘Red Death’ virus, as they called him.

Needless to say, Thrax’s gloating over his success was no comfort to Ozzie’s already bruised and battered pride and his guilt and sorrow welling up inside him for turning Shane into an orphan and causing the death of his only best friend Drix and Leah, the love of his life.

Later that night, as Thrax sat on the chair watching Ozzie tied to the foot of the bed as usual and drinking his coffee, he smirked as cruel amusement was written all over his face. It has been almost a day and a half since they’ve got into this canine city. Thrax had planned to leave possibly tomorrow night when the dog’s mistress’s friends come over to have a slumber party, in which he would target a suitable body to invade and destroy. Ozzie had threatened to stop him but a glowing claw pressed against his face was warning enough that it would be his fate if he tried to do anything stupid.

“What’s so funny?” Ozzie snarled, obviously ticked off by Thrax’s facial expression and daring him to make a move.

“Just thinking about all the things I could do to that pretty body of yours,” Thrax commented. So saying, he got up and proceeded to undo the chain on Ozzie’s wrist from the foot of the bed.

“W…What are you doing?”

“I need a shower right now,” Thrax replied, “and you are gonna help me clean up.”

“You mean…You mean you want me to help you bathe?” Ozzie widened his eyes in disbelief. When Thrax gave him a devious smirk as a reply, he harshly pushed the virus away. “No way! There is no friggin’ way I’m gonna bathe you! You wanna take a Frank-damn shower, you go right ahead and take it yourself! I’m not gonna…”

Ozzie’s last outburst was his demise. Without warning, Thrax grabbed Ozzie by the throat and slammed him down onto his lap, face down, knocking the air out of him. The virus pulled down harshly at the cell’s pants, revealing his bare buttocks and, while holding Ozzie down by the nape of the neck with one hand, reached to the bedside table with the other and took out a hairbrush.

“Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson.”

Before Ozzie knew it, a sharp whack was heard and felt on his behind, making him gasp in pain. He tried to struggle out of his confines by Thrax held him in a death grip, with his killing claw dangerously inches away from the cell’s jugular. Blow after blow came onto his tender membrane as Thrax hit him with the brush without mercy, reducing the poor cell into tears.

“Stop…! Stop…! Please stop…I beg you…!” Ozzie whined, begging for the pain to end.

“You promise to be good?” Thrax asked, still giving him no quarter.

“I…I promise…! I promise!!”

“What must you say to me first?”

Ozzie hesitated for a moment, his pride keeping him from saying what he knew Thrax wanted him to say. A few more whacks were all it took to loosen his tongue.

“I’m…I’m sorry! I’m sorry, sir! I’m sorry!! Please stop!!!”

“Good boy,” Thrax smiled in satisfaction as he discarded the hairbrush aside and stroked the swollen, throbbing membrane of Ozzie’s sore ass. “Now follow me to the bathroom. Your services are required there.”

The virus waited until Ozzie slid slowly off his lap before making his way to the bathroom. Ozzie wanted to just remain there nursing his tender ass and fall into a messy heap of tears, but he knew he wasn’t getting any sympathy from a virus that demanded immediate attention and obedience. Sitting there like a crybaby was not going to do him any good. He wiped his face and eyes clean of his tears before slowly getting up and followed behind Thrax’s wake.

Once they were inside the bathroom, Thrax silently gestured with a jerk of his head that Ozzie should prepare the bath. With the painful spanking as a reminder if he disobeyed, he quickly did his thing. Turning both the hot and cold water faucet on, he plugged the drain of the tub and let the water fill the tub. While waiting for it to fill, Ozzie proceeded to take off Thrax’s clothes. The huge dark trench-coat was off first, then his turtleneck sweater, in which he had to wrap his arms around the virus’ slim waist to untuck the back. He couldn’t help staring as the virus tilted his head side to side to get rid of the cricks once the sweater was off. Like his physique portrayed when he had his clothes on, he was just as slim and lithe underneath, with muscles moderately pronounced at the right places. He wasn’t exactly someone who would undergo a six-pack abs training course, but he was definitely still not someone you’d want to match strengths with. Ozzie knew it firsthand; he had fought with him head to head and he was indeed stronger than he looked.

“Take a picture, Jones,” Thrax’s husky voice brought him back to reality, resulting to a rather flushed-looking Ozzie. “It’ll last longer.”

Ozzie mentally slapped himself as he carried on taking off the rest of the virus’ clothes. Undoing the belt from the loops that held his pants in place, Ozzie began to imagine what other forms of punishment Thrax might incur his wrath on him. The hairbrush was one example, and it didn’t require a genius to figure out that the belt could possibly another punishment method Thrax would love to try on him. A phantom sting of the possible crack of that belt on his membrane was something he wished not to experience. Thrax could tell by the look on the cell’s face that he had pretty much figured out what he might do with the belt if he misbehaved and was genuinely amused. He sat down on the side of the tub and turned off the faucets while he allowed Ozzie to remove his boots before working on his pants. Testing the water, the virus decided that it was still not warm enough and heated it some more with his killer claw. As steam rose from the tub from Thrax’s hot claw, Ozzie wondered how many cells had he killed, how many bacteria-s and germs were under his mercy as they did his bidding, how many cities he had taken down with it.

Finally, as the last fabric was removed from Thrax’s body, revealing him bare for the cell to see, Ozzie discovered just how small his own was compare to the man meat in front of him. It wasn’t insanely huge or anything that might scare off even the horniest she-cell available, but it was not a small fry either. It was almost perfect, with a little bit of ridges on the sides that stood out like little bumps. Any she-cell would be lining up and have a field day with this rod, that’s for sure. Ozzie couldn’t control the heat that traveled up to his cheeks as he tried hard to tear his gaze away from the member.

Thrax chuckled as he slowly entered the tub. He watched as Ozzie just stood there listlessly, trying to scratch a non-existent itch as he waited for Thrax’s next order. He seemed to look awkward standing there not sure what to do next and probably contemplating about things that he could do to prevent from getting punished in such a humiliating manner. Oh, he was definitely enjoying his time toying with the younger cell.

“Honestly, baby, you don’t expect to help me shower with those clothes on, do you? Take them all off, and prepare the shampoo and soap. I’ll be done soaking in a minute.”

“Y…Yes, sir…” Ozzie replied as he went to the mirror cabinet to take out the shower gel for Thrax. He wanted to go out of the bathroom to undress but was met with a warning gaze by Thrax, so he had no choice to undress there. Removing his clothes one by one, Thrax could see that Ozzie was not too bad for a physique of an immunity cell. He might need to go to the gym to pack some more punch, but Ozzie’s physique, at the moment, was alright as it was. He wasn’t as fit as he was, but he wasn’t sickly thin either, like someone who had just enough exercise to get by, and judging by his moves when they fought on Shane’s eyeball for the hypothalamus chain, Thrax knew that Ozzie could more or less hold his own, although still not enough to overpower him. The virus held back a snort when he saw the white with red hearts boxers he was wearing, but once that was off, he saw that the cell’s manhood was satisfactory at best, and he could tell from the cell’s face that he wasn’t exactly proud of it, especially after getting a glimpse of the virus’ own member.

Thrax soon got out of the bath and sat on a bathroom stool, waiting for Ozzie to make his move. The cell seemed hesitant.

“Wh…Where should I start…?”

“Start with soaping my back, Jones, and work your way there. Make sure to clean every inch of me. I want to be fresh for tomorrow.”

Ozzie nodded and poured a generous amount of shower gel on his hand. After lathering it with water from the tub, he slowly rubbed it along Thrax’s back. He could feel the ripple of muscles on Thrax’s back and neck as he traced his fingers along it, spreading the soap and bubbles along with it. He moved up to his arms and cleaned every inch of them and again, he could feel the muscles in his biceps and triceps, slightly hard to the touch.

“You’ve got a soft touch, baby. Any man would just throw their worries away with those wonderful hands of yours.”

“Um…Uh, th-thanks, uh…” Ozzie was caught unaware by this, not sure whether the virus meant it as an insult or a real compliment.

“From now on, you will refer me as ‘Master’ and you will obey all my orders. You are only to call my name when I allow it, understood?”

“W…What…? You can’t be serious…” Ozzie’s protest was quickly met by Thrax’s venomous glare as the virus turned around to face him.

“Is the hairbrush not enough for you, baby?”

Ozzie knew exactly what he meant. He shrank back and shook his head.

“No…No…I mean, I understand whatever you just said…Master.”

“Good,” Thrax grinned and straightened himself. “Now continue.”

Ozzie obeyed, carrying on with his soap and bubble-spreading on the virus’ chest and the rest of the body. He worked his way around Thrax’s waist, hips, thighs, legs and feet but after that, he knew he had to clean the inevitable as well.

“Well, don’t stop,” Thrax raised a brow. “You missed a spot.”

Ozzie stared at the man meat, not sure whether to proceed or not. He had never touched anyone else’s besides his whenever he pleasure himself over erotic wet dreams of getting it on with Leah or when he relieved himself in the toilet.

“It won’t bite, baby. Or are you a sucker for punishment?”

“I…I’ll do it. I will.”

With trembling hands, he poured a little bit of shower gel on his hands, lathered it and reached to clean the virus’ member. He could literally feel the ridges on the cock and it reminded him of the dildos he saw sold at the Penis Parlour when he was still a high-school student back in the city of Frank. He didn’t think there would actually be a real one like that right in front of him in his hands right now. He tried to think of something irrelevant in particular while he continued to move on cleaning the virus’ sac and the butt area as well. He could’ve sworn the member hardened at his touch but Thrax didn’t seem to show any changes in his facial expression, so he brushed it aside as his own imagination.

After he thought he had soaped the virus enough, he took the detachable showerhead from the tub and began rinsing the virus from head to toe, ridding him of all the shower gel on his body. When Thrax returned to the tub to soak himself again, Ozzie reluctantly joined him so that he could wash his dreadlocks. They were quite thick but surprisingly soft to the touch and quite easy to manage and clean as he shampooed them. He gestured for Thrax to lean his head out of the tub so that he could rinse it, in which Thrax complied by lying his neck against the side of the tub and Ozzie coming out of the tub to wash it off the shampoo. Once everything was done, Thrax stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist. Ozzie thought he was supposed to follow after him but was stopped by the virus.

“Wh…What do you need, Master?” Ozzie asked tentatively.

“I’ll take it from here. I’m sure you know how to take your own bath, don’t you? Once you’re done, go and get us something to eat from the motel cafeteria. I’m starved.”

“Yes, Master.”

Ozzie waited until Thrax left the bathroom before falling onto his knees on the bathroom tiled floor in relief. At least it was safe start so far. He looked at his hands that had just held the virus’ manhood. He could still feel the ridges ghosting around his palms and the feeling of his sac in his hands.

Somehow, oddly even to his surprise, he didn’t hate it.