Because of Thrax’s nature, the army barracks took extreme precautions in subduing him. He was put in a jail cell that was heat-resistant and his killer hand was encased in a portable machine that contained Drix’s ice solution that froze it and kept it under lock and key with a complicated series of security numerical codes as the only means of opening it. Thrax learnt from the warden, who came to observe him for a while, that trying to force it open will cause the machine to self-destruct and blowing the virus’ hand off, so the virus had no choice but to bear with the heavy weight on his left hand. Believe me, he was not exactly a happy camper when he first woke up to find himself behind bars. He was shouting and swearing, demanding to be let go so that he could punish his little pet, but his words fell on deaf ears by the army guards guarding the door of his jail cell.
When they took him in for questioning, the first thing the virus demanded was the whereabouts of his pet Ozzie. Because of the machine strapped around his hand, he couldn’t do anything to scare them into submission, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to bully them into answering his demands. The army barracks, not quite phased by Thrax’s outburst, refused to tell him anything and carried on questioning him about his true intentions as to why he wanted to destroy the city. With his free hand, Thrax swiped everything that was on the table until they hit the wall, thanks to his super strength, and shouted “Where the fuck is my baby?!” before he was subdued by a few strong he-cell soldiers. His tone almost, for a split second, sounded frantic, desperate and afraid that the army barracks might do Ozzie harm when he shouted again for Ozzie’s whereabouts, but when the army barracks gave him no quarter, he gave them the silent treatment, no longer wanting to answer any questions unless he was told where Ozzie was. That earned him a really tough beating and a trip back to the jail cell bruised and battered, and a promise by the army barracks that they would continue this sometime soon.
Outside, the autopsy of the park janitor’s cause of death was confirmed to be the Red Death, sending the whole village under quarantine lockdown and the one who had close contact with the body under maximum observation. Poor Jackson and his family, among others, had to be driven to the big city in white military ambulance vans and be kept in separate rooms in the main hospice of the quarantine section of the government pathology department, being monitored closely with all the necessary blood test and medication until the threat was eradicated. The medication injected into the body and its enzymes were quickly directed to the army barracks within Jackson County to deal with Thrax and his recruits, as well as helping to find and clear out all the others that Thrax had killed when they backed out from his offer.
Ozzie, who was diagnosed by the brain centre’s professional medics as a quarter T4 cell because of his partial infection but deemed no harm to anyone in close contacts with him, was also interrogated some for his involvement in Thrax’s plot to spread the Red Death, but all in all, because he had cooperated fully in apprehending Thrax and that Drix, Mr. Pheo’s personal family bodyguard, had vouched for him, he was clear to go under probation from the city council. Mr. Pheo gladly took him in to his humble abode and assigned him as a second-in-command bodyguard under Drix because of his expertise in the immunity force. He was also allowed to keep Kiaran in hopes that once the puppy becomes a dog, it’ll be extra protection and a helping hand for the two bodyguards. He promised Ozzie that he would excise his power as an aristocrat to try and get city council to give Thrax as lighter punishment as possible, stating that “any friend of Drixenol is a friend of his”.
“You feeling alright now, Jones?” Drix asked as Ozzie came out of the showers. It was a long day after the medical examinations and the interrogation, and as soon as Mr. Pheo got him settled in the family mansion, the first thing Ozzie did was take a long hot bath in the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom given to him.
“Yeah, I guess. Just a little tired,” Ozzie replied as he took the clothes Drix handed to him. Putting them on, he saw it was a black T-shirt and a pair of cellular canvas slacks. It felt quite good to be able to wear regular clothes again, but somehow he felt something amiss.
“You know, you should get rid of that collar.” Drix commented casually as he pointed at the hypothalamus collar still around his neck. He hadn’t taken it off since Thrax and the gang was arrested and never even gave it a thought. Drix frowned a little before continuing, “Don’t you feel odd having it around you? Those come from dead cities, you know. One of them could be from Frank. I hate the thought about carrying a piece of him around me.”
“It’s OK. I’m fine. It feels nice, really. I just don’t think about whom the DNA belonged to and it’s a-OK.”
“Seriously, Jones, you gotta come off it. You’re no longer enslaved by him. You don’t have to subjugate yourself into degrading things like this anymore, so you don’t need…”
“NO!!!”
Drix’s hand shot back at Ozzie’s outburst when he tried to reach over to touch the collar. Ozzie was holding it protectively, looking at the cold pill with wide horrified eyes, as if he was going to kill him or something. Ozzie realized what he had just done and softened his facial expression.
“I…I’m sorry, Drips…I dunno what got into me…”
“It’s…It’s OK, Jones,” Drix chuckled nervously, “really, it is.”
“I just…please, just don’t touch the collar, OK?” Ozzie said as he looked away, feeling a little awkward to face Drix after that outburst. “It’s…It’s all I’ve got now…”
“I understand. I won’t touch it anymore, I promise,” Drix replied. “I can assure you, you’ll feel right at home here. Mr. Pheo is a very nice man and he treats everyone like family. And if the stuff about Thrax goes through, he’ll be a-OK here as well with you.”
“If it goes through.”
“Have faith in Mr. Pheo, OK? He’ll be able to convince them and work things out, you’ll see.”
Ozzie sighed and nodded. Drix looked at Ozzie sadly, unable to brush aside the thought that nagged him since the day they had the conversation at the overhead bridge.
He really has changed. What have the virus done to him? He’s just not like who he used to be…What happened to the smart-talking, street-smart immunity cop I used to know…?
--:--
Mr. Pheo did as he had promised to appeal to the city council for a lighter sentence for Thrax, but so far, being an aristocrat didn’t always guarantee that he could get his request. The case was still pending because Thrax still would not say a word about his motives until he heard from Ozzie and yet the city council did not want to risk involving Ozzie into this predicament again, thus forbidding the army barracks to reveal Ozzie’s whereabouts and condition. And since Thrax wasn’t exactly being cooperative, they couldn’t get the necessary means to abide to Mr. Pheo’s appeal. In fact, in reality, they’d found it wise to not involve Ozzie at all and would prefer that this incident can be resolved quietly and Thrax be given a sentence that would permanently keep him away from the cell. Of course, Mr. Pheo decided against it during one of the council meetings on the grounds that Ozzie and Thrax were both physically and emotionally dependent to each other and neither would function properly without the other. He had learnt from Drix that the cold pill would occasionally hear Ozzie crying in his sleep asking for his Master (of course, he excluded that from the report during meetings to avoid a worse impression on Ozzie and get him sent back for interrogation) and he knew that to make the cell fully happy and willingly moving on with his life, he needed to be sure that the city council have given the lighter sentence for Thrax a thought. He had forbidden Drix, who had been following up on the case along with him, to reveal the progress of Thrax’s situation to Ozzie so as not to make him more upset than he should, so when Ozzie asked the first time, Drix would shake his head and feigned ignorance, telling him a white lie that he was not entitled to know about the case until it was solved.
Other than that setback, the cell settled pretty well so far for the past week since he was accepted into the Pheomelanin family. True to Drix’s word, Mr. Pheo was nice but firm to his subjects and often treated everyone as the apple of his eye. Mr. Pheo’s children Drisella, Dexter, Damien and Dana eased up to Ozzie quite easily because of Ozzie’s cheerful, smart-mouth nature (although Drix was still unsure whether he was faking it for the sake of getting over himself) and they loved little puppy Kiaran to bits despite knowing that it was a HIV-breed dog. While Drix’s job as a bodyguard was to follow Mr. Pheo and/or his wife around whenever they are attending to their important scheduled destinations and events, Ozzie’s job was as a bodyguard for the children. He was responsible of sending them to and from school, accompanying them wherever they went (though he wasn’t exactly a big fan of following behind the daughters carrying their shopping bags) and look out for their wellbeing in general. There have been minor ups and downs, but all in all, the cell was managing just fine.
“Where is that doggone toolbox…Ahah! Gotcha!” Ozzie exclaimed happily as he found what he was looking for. The boys were asking if they could build both an indoor and outdoor kennel for Kiaran so that it could have a nice, cozy spot to stay and sleep in. Though he was much comfortable having the puppy sleep by his side, he decided to humour them and give it a shot. Besides, he himself had always wondered how it was like to build a home for a pet anyway.
As Ozzie took out the toolbox, he pulled out something else along with it and it fell with a thud onto the dusty floor. When he looked down to investigate, he saw that it was a bundle of heavy duty rope, the kind that was used on him before as bondage when he was still with Thrax. With a shaking hand, he picked up the rope and ran his fingers along the coarse texture. His mind went straight back to the first time Thrax tied him up and assaulted him with the dildo, and also when he had him dangling with his hands and feet up in the air and the sensual teasing and romping that came along with it. His heart ached at the memory, not because it was painful, but because Thrax was no longer around to do that to him. He was no longer surprised at having such thoughts. In fact, he seemed to have made peace with the fact that he was actually missing Thrax ever since he cried himself awake from a nightmare and, having no one to comfort him, cried himself back to sleep, whispering Thrax’s name despite himself.
Clenching hard on the bundle of rope, he took it along with the toolbox, but did not immediately go outside to meet the boys who were waiting for him with the wood for the kennels. Instead, he made a beeline to Drix’s room and used his computer. He went online to search some websites and image galleries and made print-outs of what he had found before meeting up with the boys.
“What took you so long, Osmosis?” Damien asked as he stopped playing wrestling with Kiaran.
“Yeah, Osmosis,” Dexter sounded equally worried. “We thought you got buried alive in whatever was inside the storeroom.”
“Chill, boys,” Ozzie chuckled as he brandished the toolbox and the print-outs. “I just thought maybe you might need some ideas on making the kennels. I just made a few print-outs of blue prints of sample kennels, see if there’s any design you liked to make for Kia. Here you go.”
As the boys ogled over the print-outs and discussed with each other which one was the coolest design, Ozzie thought of the ‘other’ print out he made and partially looked forward for tomorrow morning.
--:--
Drix looked awkwardly in disbelief at the piece of print-out he was given by Ozzie. Ozzie sat on the bed looking up at him sheepishly.
“You heard me.”
“But…But this…this is ridiculous!” Drix exclaimed, flinging the print-out at him. This was not something he had expected when he came into Ozzie’s room that morning after realizing he wasn’t ready in waiting to send the children to school.
“I know it’s a little too much for you to ask,” Ozzie replied as he picked up the print-out that fell at his feet. “But please, just this once. For an old friend. I won’t ask it of you again, I swear.”
“Jones, listen to yourself! You’re being ridiculous here! All this is friggin’ ludicrous! I thought you said you’d get over all this! You’re not Thrax’s slave anymore! You gotta stop behaving like you still are!”
“C’mon, Drips! Don’t be such a sissy college boy at me right now! I need this!”
“No, Jones! Absolutely not!” Drix scowled, flinging his arms to emphasize his point. “I am not going to let you indulge in this sick madness of yours! You don’t cure a drug addict by giving him drugs, you know, and that’s exactly what you’re behaving right now!”
“Is everything alright in there, Drixenol? Osmosis?” Mrs. Pheo’s voice rang from behind the door. “You’re taking quite a while, so I’ve just asked Tonto to send the kids to school.”
“Everything’s alright, ma’am,” Drix replied. “Jones and I are just discussing some things. I’ll be right with you and Mr. Pheo.”
“Alright, but hurry. We don’t want to be late for that event later. Jackson’s going to the beach soon and the mayor just called us about it. Oh, and Osmosis, don’t forget to pick the kids up from school, alright?”
“He will, don’t worry,” Drix answered for Ozzie because at that moment, he was startled to see Ozzie’s eyes welling up in tears, staring at the print-out forlornly. One thing that’ll make the cold pill really hate himself was making someone cry, and right now, he really hated himself for bursting out at Ozzie before. He went to Ozzie and tried to comfort him but Ozzie swatted his hand away.
“Get outta here,” Ozzie muttered. “Go attend that stupid beach event. I’ll ask someone else to do it for me.”
“And let them find out about your damned past?” Drix gasped in horror. “You’ve been hurt enough, Jones. The last thing I want is you to be hurt again by this.”
“I just…I just miss him, OK?” Ozzie brushed off his tears hastily. “Maybe you’re right, I’m friggin’ confused right now, or maybe I do have feelings for him…but now I’m just friggin’ missing him, alright? I just wanna feel him near just a little, is all. I’m not gonna ask you anymore after this, so please…”
Drix was torn. Should he do this? Should he not do this? If he did, he was indulging Ozzie, letting him fall even deeper into his dark ghosts of his past and continue to be intoxicated by the sick sexual atrocities committed unto him. He would be corrupting him even further and not curing or rehabilitating him from Thrax’s traumatic tyranny like he should. But then again, if he didn’t do it, he might end up making the cell even more hurt and withdrawn. Worse, he might really go look for someone else to satisfy his craving and end up into a bigger mess if people knew about what he had been through and what he had become. Everyone in the household knew Ozzie only as an unwilling accomplice to Thrax; nothing more, nothing less. If they were to find out about this, it would ruin Ozzie and make him even worse than he already was. After all, there have been cases of depriving an addict of an addiction actually causing an opposite effect.
“If you’re not gonna do it, then get the heck outta here and stop wasting mine and Mr. and Mrs. Pheo’s time!” Ozzie growled as he stood up abruptly and made his way out of the door with the rope and the print-out. Drix gripped his wrist just in time to stop him.
“Alright, alright, I’ll do it, Jones. But just this once. You promise you won’t ask me to do this again?”
“I…I promise…” Ozzie replied, both surprised and happy that Drix finally agreed to do it for him.
“Right,” Drix sighed and scratched his gel-cap head. “Gimme the print-out. Let’s see how these knots go.”
Smiling happily, Ozzie passed him both the rope and the print-out, and immediately undressed in front of Drix, making the cold pill look away awkwardly for a moment at the blatant display of nudity and Ozzie’s lack of modesty. Needless to say, Drix wasn’t exactly enjoying it as he followed the knots displayed on the figure in the print-out and tied it as tight as Ozzie ordered him to. By the time he was done, Ozzie looked just exactly like the Japanese bondage picture in the print-out, minus the part where his hands were tied in the back. Ozzie tried walking around with it until he got used to the feeling of having the coarse rope rubbing against his membrane before putting his clothes back on, adjusting them so that the ropes would not be visible to the naked eye.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Drix asked, worried and concerned about what the ropes might do to Ozzie’s membrane.
“Relax,” Ozzie replied, sounding almost like his old self now. “I’m perfectly fine. Right, I gotta go now. Gotta wait outside the school until the kids come out. Later, Drips.”
Drix sighed and shook his head in defeat, wondering if he had done the right thing.
--:--
First he waited outside the school all day, being in alert mode just in case anything happened at school and he could come to the kids’ rescue, until school’s over and the kids came out without incident. They asked him worriedly about him not sending them to school and Ozzie had to tell them a white lie saying that he and Drix were a little busy trying to get ready to help their parents on the beach event. Drisella had ballet class, Dana had violin class, Dexter had karate class and Damien had to come back to school to attend his Literature Club, so not only he was their chauffer for every destination they had to go, but he was also more or less waiting hand and foot for them: preparing Damien’s books and club materials, finding Drisella’s other ballet shoe, checking to see if Dana brought both the violin and her music books, helping Dexter with his karate uniform and the like.
After picking them up at certain times at the end of their extra classes, the kids pestered Ozzie to take them to the mall so that the girls could do a bit of shopping and the boys can go play at the arcade. Ozzie agreed but made them promise not to be later than dinnertime, in which they disobeyed anyway and Ozzie had to drag them by the collar and chucked into the car and be driven home. The kids held no grudge on that because they knew Ozzie would never really hurt them (and also they knew they were at fault to begin with) and Drisella actually asked Ozzie to stop at the smoothies shop to buy a nice, cold smoothies as their way of apologizing for making him worry. Ozzie accepted it graciously and reached home safely in time for dinner before holing in his room for a little me-time.
Throughout his day, he had never stopped thinking and feeling the way the tight bonds of the ropes on his body were on his membrane. Every time he moved, the coarseness of the ropes rubbed against him, and the part where the knots were pressed hard against his crotch and his pucker, rubbing extra hard and bringing his cock to life. It took Ozzie his entire willpower not to let out a moan and act casual as if nothing was wrong while the ropes rubbed relentlessly at every part of his body as he went about his business for the day, arousing each and every sensitive area like crazy. Making sure that the door was locked, he took off his clothes and lay naked on the bed, undoing the knots near his crotch to release his throbbing cock and started pumping himself.
“Mmh…Yes…Master, please…Torment me more…”
Ozzie moaned as he stroke himself, occasionally teasing the tip of his cock with his index finger, spreading the pre-cum around it.
“Yes, Master, touch me there…”
As he stroke himself harder, he could almost imagine Thrax’s touches and his searing yellow eyes watching every crevice of his body, his claws running gently and softly on his membrane, teasing him everywhere.
“Master…Oh, Master…”
He could imagine Thrax’s lips on him, his tongue along his jaw-line and his cheeks, his dreadlocks as they tickled his face whenever he lowered his head down to kiss him.
“Master, not yet…Gimme more…”
He could almost feel Thrax’s toned muscles ripple smoothly against his membrane, the strong hands taking his clenched hands and pinning them down onto the bed, subduing him with his weight.
“I’m…I’m gonna cum, Master…”
He could feel the huge man meat of his Master Thrax sliding into him, giving him the undeniably ecstatic pleasure he had craved for so long. He could almost taste it.
“Yes…Yes…! Master, I’m cumming…! I’m cumming…!”
All of Thrax’s imaginary presence disappeared within a single split second as he let himself go all over his hand, thighs and stomach. Panting as he twitched a little from the tremors, he finally had come to the obvious conclusion that he had been avoiding ever since Klepta first popped the question to him.
He loved Thrax. In a sick, twisted and distorted sense, he was truly, madly and deeply in love with Thrax.
And it hurt, especially when he was not there to know it.
As Ozzie tried to hold back the tears that threatened to flow out of his eyes, he heard a soft knock on the door.
“Jones?”
“Oh, Drips, it’s you,” Ozzie composed himself and quickly grabbed a towel to cover himself before opening the door.
“You OK, Jones?” Drix asked worriedly, his eyes caught sight of the discarded clothes on the floor and the rope still around Ozzie, well, the top part, that is.
“Yeah, fine and dandy. I was going to skip dinner and sleep, actually. Long day and I’m dead tired.”
“I see. Well, I’ve come to tell you about Thrax. Mr. Pheo forbidden me not to tell you because he wanted the city council to reconsider but I just feel it’s the right thing to do by you.”
Ozzie quickly pulled Drix into his room and closed the door behind him, locking it as he looked at the cold pill in fearful anticipation.
“Spill it, Drips.”
“Well, to be honest with you, I’ve known the progress of Thrax’s case all along, but Mr. Pheo told me not to tell you coz he doesn’t want you to get involved with the city council should they decide something unfavourable.”
“I gathered that much,” Ozzie replied, and when Drix widened his eyes in shock, he waved it away, “I’m not born yesterday, Drips. I know when someone’s lying or when someone’s pretending they don’t know anything. I was a cop, remember? But I decided to let it slide since you asked me to put my trust on Mr. Pheo. So what’s the story now?”
“Um…” Drix hesitated. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea after all. You’re tired and…”
“Drips,” Ozzie gave him a warning tone. “Now.”
Drix swallowed nervously before blurting out whatever he came to say.
“They’re gonna give him the death penalty.”
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