Poison-Chp12

Ozzie rapped on the wall that separated his room from the mayor’s. He’s been here for quite long enough; it’s about time he got it over and done with. One thing his Master demanded was time efficiency, and the faster he got it done, the sooner this would be all over.

“Yes, is that you, Ozma?” Mayor Margo’s voice came from behind the wall. “Knock once if you are.”

It was a dumb question, but Ozzie decided to humour him anyway. He knocked once.

“Are you alright? Is there something wrong?”

Ozzie knocked twice, telling him nothing’s wrong.

“Do you need my company?”

Ozzie knocked once.

“I’ll be right over, sweetheart.”

In 5 seconds flat, Mayor Margo was in Ozzie’s room. Ozzie was sitting on the bed waiting for him, and made Kiaran stay under the bed and be quiet beforehand.

“Have you considered my offer?” Mayor Margo asked as he sat beside Ozzie, moving closer to him.
Ozzie just gave him an uncertain smile.

“Is that a yes or no, sweetheart?”

Ozzie leaned forward a little, puckering his lips suggestively.

“I take that as a yes then.”

Ozzie waited until Mayor Margo closed his eyes and was almost an inch away from his face before he took out secretly a capsule hidden within the hem of his headdress and whispered just enough for the mayor to hear.

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh? What?”

While the mayor was caught unaware, Ozzie quickly slipped the capsule into his puckered mouth and held him down by the mouth with both his hands, forcing him to swallow it. Mayor Margo’s eyes widened in bewilderment as Ozzie put his full weight onto his hands, keeping him down on the bed and had one of his knees holding down one of the mayor’s thighs. Ozzie could see his pupil dilated in disbelief as he saw the ‘she-T4 cell’ he thought was mute whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again to him, forcing him to bite down and swallow the capsule. Foam started forming around his mouth as the capsule’s deadly poison took effect. After much struggling, Mayor Margo soon went limp, the capsule he was force-fed with finally done its job. Ozzie made sure that he was no longer breathing before he coaxed Kiaran out from under the bed and took the keys and pass card the mayor kept religiously in his breast pocket.

He knocked out the guards (thanks to his immunity training) in front of the door of his room they were guarding and skulked his way through the mansion, taking down people in stealth mode as he went. He went down to the basement of the mansion that connected directly into the mayor’s office, retracing his steps as he remembered when he was taken away from Bubba. As soon as he got there, he waited until the mayor’s aide clocked out for dinner before going to the main computer system. With what little knowledge he had about computers and the mayor’s pass card to access the mainframe, he managed to open all doors of the maximum security prison to let Bubba out and, watching for the blinking of the tracking device tagged on Bubba by the guards when they were put in the maximum security prison on the map of the brain and also the monitor screen of the security camera feed, he timed the walkways well to lock and unlock the area for Bubba’s easy getaway from the authorities’ pursuit.

Once he saw Bubba made it out of the brain centre, Ozzie quickly made a dash to the hypothalamus chamber based on a printout he made on the map. Using the pass card, he entered the chamber, knocked out the professors present (apologizing at the same time) and walked towards the barrier that contained the rotating chromosome with the hypothalamus DNA in it. Looking at his own dimly glowing hand, he remembered what Thrax told him when he was helping him with his getup the other day…

--:--

FLASHBACK BEGINS…

“Why am I doing this again?” Ozzie couldn’t help asking as Thrax picked up the hairbrush and started combing.

“Because, baby, you are the best in the undercover business,” Thrax replied. “I must admit, baby, you almost had me fooled there the first time I saw you in The Zit. The fact that you managed to enter the room and listen in throughout my whole plan without anyone knowing or suspecting who you are proves that you’ve got what it takes, that you are an expert in this. Of course, if your mouth hadn’t run out on you, you might just succeed in ratting me out.”

“I can’t help it if my words blow off my cover,” Ozzie pouted.

“That’s why I want you to stay quiet when you’re doing this. Let Bubba do all the talking and keep your mouth shut. You dig, baby?”

“I dig. I dig real deep.”

Thrax was almost done with his hair when he smirked and asked, “You were really good when I told you to wear this dress. Not even a peep from you at all. Did you really enjoy your punishment I give you?”

Ozzie pouted again, not wanting to answer that question. Thrax chuckled at Ozzie’s reaction and took the cell’s chin, turning him to face him.

“I’m sure you’re just dying to know why I want you in this getup.”

Ozzie shifted his gaze downwards and nodded.

“Well, while Klepta’s being a glory-hog rounding people up for me, I did my own research. Turns out our Mayor of Gregory Metropolis is a sucker for dressed-up girls. Girls in costumes, in special dresses, in flamboyant fancy clothes, etc…these are the girls that turn him on. In fact, he even announced it publicly during interviews that if he were to choose a bride, he’d want someone dressed in his favourite gothic-lolita outfit. Turned off a lot of suitors that way that he claimed he’d marry anyone that stepped in with a frilly dress. All of Klepta’s people are hard-ass who have no elegance whatsoever, and as much as I loathe it, you are the only person I could think of to fit for the position.”

“Do I look like a girl to you?” Ozzie asked, trying not to sound too annoyed lest it offended Thrax and got himself another punishment.

“Once I’m done with you, you would,” Thrax said. He fished out a whitish capsule from his trench-coat’s inner pocket and waved it in front of Ozzie, “See this? It’s your time to shine, baby. I want you, once you managed to infiltrate into the brain, to feed this to the mayor and once he’s down, you get to take the hypothalamus DNA for me.”

Ozzie widened his eyes in shock. He didn’t need to be a genius to know what was inside the capsule.
“You…You want me to kill him?! I-I-I can’t do that!”

“Whatever he’s gonna do to you later, you might wanna do it. Besides, you got no choice. This is the only way we can get out of this.”

“I…I don’t know…” Ozzie hesitated, knowing from Thrax’s tone that he meant business, but still not exactly at ease with the idea of killing somebody. True, he had killed a few germs in his line of work, but it was his duty. Killing innocent people wasn’t exactly in his immunity training.

“Just treat it like you’re getting rid of a criminal. Do we have to go through this again?”

Ozzie knew exactly what that meant. He shook his head.

“Good boy,” Thrax smiled, then slipped the capsule into the hem of his headdress. “Just close your eyes and get it over with. It’ll get easier every time.”

“But how am I gonna get the DNA? I’m not exactly a virus like you. I might probably get my hand fried if I try to reach out to get it.”

“True, you’re not, but you’re not exactly a pure cell either. You’re partially infected, remember? That viral DNA I gave you does more than just glow, you know. Just stick your hand in and go with the flow. I guarantee you you’ll be alright. Now stay still. I’m gonna help you get rid of that goatie of yours…”

FLASHBACK ENDS…

--:--

Ozzie took a deep breath and put Kiaran down. Cracking his knuckles, he heaved a sigh and rolled up his sleeve a little.

“Here goes nothing.”

Closing his eyes, he stuck his hand in. Surprisingly, he passed through the barrier as if it was nothing. In fact, the only thing he felt as his hand inched closer and closer towards the chromosome was like sticking his hand into a freezer. It didn’t hurt as bad as he thought, and his hand was not burning or peeling or anything, but it did feel like he just stuck himself into a bucket of ice and was getting a sort of minor frostbite. He waited until the chromosome rotated in the right angle before he, imitating Thrax, plucked out the familiar hypothalamus DNA from it. As he pulled out with the DNA in his hand, the chromosome started to move out of alignment and he could hear the familiar beeping of the monitor as the temperature started climbing upwards.

“Woah,” Ozzie breathed, almost amazed at his own feat. “Didn’t think I could actually do this…”

His musings were cut short by a sudden push from behind, sending him sprawled over the floor and making him drop the DNA. Kiaran barked at the perpetrator but yelped in pain as it sounded like it was being hit. Ozzie turned to see in shock that it was Mayor Margo, alive and kicking on him, looking at him with vengeance in his eyes.

“You bitch! You sneaky little bitch!”

“Wha…How…? I saw you…”

“Dead?” Mayor Margo finished his words. “Yeah, you did. For a good 10 seconds, as a matter of fact. But I didn’t get to this built without special training, you know. I was in the army barracks before I became Mayor. I was trained in the most rigorous exercise program ever, and that included getting myself immune to all poisons fed through me. It was a tough job being forced to drink glasses upon glasses of stuff that would kill an average cell in seconds, but I was forced to be one with poison, to handle the deadly effects and play possum before forcing my body to assimilate and recover from it. That stupid little capsule wasn’t enough to kill me, sweetheart, and I’m going to show you how strong I can really be!”

“But I’m a he-cell!” Ozzie shouted as he struggled with him. “I’m not some prissy little she-cell who has a thing for frilly dresses! I’m a guy, for Frank’s sake!”

“You think I didn’t know?!” the mayor bellowed as he slapped Ozzie on both cheeks. “You think I don’t see through you that you’re a guy? What kind of mayor do you think I am? Do you think I care what gender you are?! You turned me on, and that’s enough for me! But you…you betrayed me! You tried to kill me! After all I promised you, you still tried to kill me!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Sorry ain’t good enough for me! I’m gonna make you sorry you were even born!”

Before he knew it, Mayor Margo started pulling up his skirt and had his hand on the waistband of his underwear, ready to peel it down. Ozzie screamed and struggled, trying to push him away. He sucker-punched his face a few times and had succeeded in getting away, only to be grabbed and pulled back to the floor again, having those body-building hands roam all over his body and lips touching his membrane everywhere. Kiaran tried to get back to its feet and pulled at the mayor’s pants but it was kicked away almost immediately. When Mayor Margo literally tore the underwear off and pinned his clenched hands down to the counter that had all the dozens of thermometers stuck on the gel-like pockets, he knew he was done for.

No…No…No, no, NO!!! Ozzie screamed inwardly. Not again!!! Not that…!! Please, not that…!!!

Suddenly, he heard a loud gurgling sound. He opened his tear-filled eyes and saw a familiar glowing claw pierced through Mayor Margo’s chest. The venom traveled quickly throughout the mayor’s body and immediately he became a melting pile of red goo on the floor, screaming and writhing in his gurgling voice as he went, revealing his savior standing behind him as he flicked the goo off his claws distastefully.

“Sorry I’m late, baby.”

Ozzie couldn’t control himself. He quickly got up and flung himself onto Thrax’s chest, crying and bawling his heart out. He had never felt so relieved to see Thrax ever in his life, and in this circumstance, he was almost glad that the virus showed up just in time. He felt Thrax’s arms wrap around him and hushed him, stroking his back tenderly.

“Shh, shh, shh, it’s over, baby. It’s over.”

“He…He tried to…He tried to…” Ozzie sobbed, unable to finish his words. Thrax hushed him again.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Kiaran whined, hobbling towards the Master-Slave duo, retrieving the hypothalamus DNA Ozzie dropped. Thrax smirked and took the DNA from its mouth before patting the puppy.

“Good boy. Guess you made yourself useful after all.”

“Did I miss anything?”

Thrax scowled at Klepta’s unceremonious appearance. The younger virus saw Ozzie’s tear-stained face and rushed to him quickly.

“Oh my Greg, doll! Did that grubby mayor do anything to you? Did he hurt you in anyway?”

“Not helping, runt,” Thrax growled as he shoved him away from Ozzie while slipping in the DNA into his chain. “He’s lucky I got here before he had the chance to do anything. I would’ve enjoyed torturing him if we weren’t running out of time.”

“Well, we’re gonna run late if we don’t get outta here,” Klepta said. “The feds are onto us, and we can only hold them back so much.”

“Right,” Thrax nodded, then turned to Ozzie, “Pick up the mutt, baby. We’re springing outta here.”

Ozzie nodded and picked Kiaran up before Thrax carried him bridal style to Klepta’s car which was parked just outside the brain centre entrance. There, many of the workers and guards were either knocked out or taken down by the group of germs and bacteria-s and by Thrax’s and Klepta’s killer claw. A car chase ensued, but they managed to ditch the dispensable lackeys and made their way to one of the sweat glands near the armpit where the mole was situated. They hopped into one of the droplets of the salty sweat that was starting to leak out of Gregory, held their breaths and waited for the sweat to trickle out and get absorbed by the shirt sleeve. Moments later, they found themselves being discarded out with the shirt and looked to see Gregory unconscious on the floor of a bar being surrounded by his friends, one of them trying to call the ambulance while another tried to fan him to cool down his temperature. They could only assume that their heist happened while he was out having happy hour with his friends.

“Got a whole load of people here,” Klepta said. “Gonna get into any of them?”

“No,” Thrax growled as if his brother had just said something ridiculous. “I’ve made it into the medical books now. Anyone in contact with the body I killed will automatically be sent to quarantine. We’re gonna have to split this joint.”

“There’s a stray cat over there,” Ozzie pointed at the said stray cat who was lounging around outside the window of the bar.
“Baby, that’s just what we needed,” Thrax grinned and pecked at the cell’s forehead.

With the help of the crowd in the bar, they leapt from one set of clothes to another, picking up momentum until they were high enough for Thrax to spread his trench-coat and glide around the air. Klepta, on the other hand, relied on his agility and springing step and soon, both of them made their way out of the bar, through the window and onto the cat’s fur before camping out on one of the cat’s pores of its skin.

--:--

“Doll, doll, you OK?”

“Baby, baby, wake up. Wake up, baby.”

Ozzie snapped his eyes opened, tears fell freely out of them. He just had the most awful dream of seeing Finn, Mayor Margo and all the germs and bacteria-s he had met throughout their journey gathered around them, lust strewn all over their face as they started tearing every fabric that was on Ozzie’s body, with Thrax watching them do their thing and laughing maniacally, not doing anything to save him. At the sight of Klepta and Thrax looking down at him as soon as he woke up, he instinctively cowered away, screaming for them to leave him alone.

“Get away! Get away from me! Get away from me!! Don’t touch me!!!”

“Shh, shh, baby,” Thrax wrapped his arms around the struggling cell, trying to calm him down. “It’s just a nightmare, baby. It’s just a nightmare.”

“Look what you’ve done to our doll, you wimp!” Klepta scolded. “I told you it was a bad idea having him involved in this!”

“Shut the fuck up, runt! I told you I know what I’m doing! I just didn’t expect…”

“That Mayor Margo would try to do him in, innit? That the mayor tried to make a whore outta him, innit? It’s all your friggin’ fault he’s like this!”

Ozzie’s bawls stopped their bickering. The older virus went back to try and console him, with Kiaran whining and rubbing its head against him to comfort him. Thrax rocked him back to sleep again as he whispered “It’s OK, I’m here” over and over again to Ozzie’s ear. As soon as Ozzie eased down and started snoring slightly again, Thrax made Kiaran lie down in Ozzie’s arms before the two viruses made their way towards the cat’s tail for a breather.

“This is friggin’ ridiculous, man,” Klepta sighed. “This feels like Trisha all over again…”

“Don’t you fucking bring that bitch up again!” Thrax snapped. “This has nothing to do with Trisha and you know it!”

“Isn’t it? When was the last time you made Trisha smile? When was the last time you actually let Trisha feel happy about your relationship with her? All she could think of was how dangerous it was to love you, and always wake up with nightmares of her being prosecuted and seeing you being killed by the feds, and we had to ease her fears just like what we’re doing with our doll right now! Haven’t you caused enough trouble already?!”

“Stop calling my baby our doll! He’s not your pet, he’s mine! Stop talking as if he belongs to you!”

“Get it into your thick skull, Thrax, that if he were to stay with you, he’s gonna be family, which means he’s my family as well, so I get to choose what to fucking call him! You’re still the spoilt brat, aren’t you? Big Mama’s little boy, always wanting everything for yourself…”

“You think I’m that selfish?!” Thrax growled as he grabbed his brother’s collar. “You think I always get what I want?! You have no idea what I have been through with Big Mama! You have no fucking idea! Don’t try talking to me like you know who I really am!”

“I would if you just tell me!” Klepta growled back, struggling to pry the elder virus’ hand away. “Big Mama had always loved you more than everyone else! She always treated our other moms like shit, including us when we were kids! You have no fucking idea what we have to go through to win her approval!”

“Oh, really now? Is that why she’s always whipping me and beating me black and blue in private, saying that it’s to toughen his boy up, to be as strong as his old man? Is that why she killed every younger sibling I had and made it look like an accident, just so that no one will surpass me and take over my place as the greatest virus next to his old man? She made me watch as she suffocated little Tiara with a pillow, made me watch as she drowned little Thaka in the bathtub, made me watch as she slit little Tkokhol bit by bit until he died by just the pain alone. I cared for each and every one of my little baby siblings and she just killed them like they were nothing to her, even though she was the one to carry them to term and gave birth to them! She made go through the toughest training, making pain my most routine practice to assimilate, to cope, to live with and be a part of me. You all had it way easy, runt! The way she treated you paled in comparison with how she treated me, so don’t try to justify yourself with me, because you have no FUCKING idea!”

Klepta widened his eyes, seeing this side of his elder brother for the first time. And to think Thrax’s mother, the matriarch of the sisterhood in their father’s harem, always slapping him and calling him, his siblings and his mother a pebble in a shoe, a growth that shouldn’t be there, and all the other things she did to their other mothers and half-siblings were the worst.

“Is that why you do these things to our doll?” Klepta probed again. “To make yourself feel a little bit of power? To make you feel like you have never lost Trisha? For all I can see, you’re treating our doll like a Trisha-substitute…”

He knew he had went too far when Thrax sucker-punched him to the ground. Both the brother brawled and fought for dominance, forcing either of them to keel and surrender. As Thrax landed blow after blow on Klepta, he roared like he never roared before.

“Jones is NOT Trisha! I never treated Jones like Trisha! Jones is nothing like Trisha! He’s better than her! He’s the only person who actually noticed me where no one else from any other city would or could have! He was the only one to know I exist, to know that I was there, and for the first time, figured me ALL OUT! He was the only one I fought with head to head with and was the only one who ever gave a damn about me! He tolerated me, endured me, obeyed me, and yet continued to defy me at the same time! He was the only person that made me real, that made me believe that there is such thing as humanity, passion and love! He made me finally care about something in my WHOLE FUCKING LIFE! Don’t you fucking DARE to compare him with Trisha!!”

“So that means you love him, don’t cha!” Klepta shouted back, his face looking glad that he finally broke his brother and made him say it. “Big Mama’s little boy finally capable of falling in love with somebody!”

“Yes, yes, YES!! I love him!!! Is that what you want to hear?! I love him more than I thought I loved Trisha!!! I FUCKING LOVE HIM!!! Satisfied?!”

Klepta stopped fighting back, smiling and holding his hands up in surrender. Thrax let out a frustrated growl and landed a last punch on his nose before tearing himself away from him.

“Don’t you fucking dare repeat this in front of my baby, or I swear…”

“Fine, fine, I’ll keep your little stupid secret. Though I can guarantee you it’s gonna leak sooner or later.”

Klepta glanced knowingly at Ozzie who quickly closed his eyes shut. Thrax was none the wiser, assuming the cell was too deep in sleep to hear them arguing.

If only he knew Ozzie had heard every word.

--:--

The sun finally shone and the cat they were on stretched itself awake. As it went to get the grub for the day, Klepta had announced to the duo that he was gonna split.

“You sure you can’t stay for a while?” Ozzie asked.

“Nah, cats ain’t my thing, doll. I prefer having dogs spreading me around rather than the felines. ‘Sides, I might get lucky scoring with someone as cute as you in my next body. Maybe the next time we meet, I’d get a doll of my own.”

“Yeah, whatever, runt,” Thrax growled. “Get going already. Your stench is killing us.”

“So, doll, whaddaya say? Gave my words any thought?” Klepta asked Ozzie, completely ignoring his ranting brother.

“What thought? What did he say to you, baby?”

Ozzie looked at Klepta for a while, hesitating a little, then took Thrax’s arm, not looking directly at him. Klepta smiled knowingly.

“Alright, doll. I get the point. You take care of Kiaran for me now. I wanna see it big and strong like its Mama the next time we meet.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Thrax warned. “Get outta here.”

“Adios, doll,” Klepta saluted before leaping off from the cat’s tail. “See ya soon, wimp!”

And just like that, Klepta disappeared out of sight. Thrax, after making sure the runt of his brother had finally gone, grabbed Ozzie by the waist, giving the cell a demanding look.

“What did he mean about giving his words a thought?”

“N…Nothing…” Ozzie blushed, holding Kiaran tight as if he was wishing the little puppy could save him from this predicament. Thrax noticed the puppy and touched his lips on the cell’s ear.

“I’m still gonna get something out of this, ain’t I, for letting you keep that mutt?”

Ozzie blushed even harder, remembering the deal they made at The Mole Blitz in exchange for allowing him to have a pet.

“Y-Y-Yes, Master…”

“Well, we’re gonna get started now, aren’t we?”

So saying, the familiar leash was tied around Ozzie’s collar and he was dragged into the cat’s body through the cat’s ear, leading him to his inevitable fate.

Poison-Chp11

“Mm-MM! You look absolutely on fire, doll!”

Ozzie blushed as he inched closer to Thrax at Klepta’s comment. It was the D-Day for Gregory Metropolis and everyone were gathered at dawn at the VIP reserved parking lot behind the Mole Blitz to group up and get on with the grand heist. Thrax had wanted his little pet to be dressed for the occasion, and right now, Ozzie felt that he wanted to be anywhere but there. The hooting, whooping and whistling of the germs and bacteria-s present were not exactly helping him feel any better either.

The cell felt rather awkward wearing what he was told to wear right now: a custom-made gothic-lolita dress complete with a headdress, detachable sleeves and an inner wire petticoat to make his skirt puffed up, and mesh stockings and high platform buckled shoes to match. After the punishment he received last night, he dared not voice out his protest—not even questioning where the heck in Greg did his Master get him this outfit—and wore it without a fight, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. His mind was screaming bloody murder about how embarrassing he might look being caught dead like this, and he knew Thrax knew he was feeling that way when he caught Thrax looking at him with an amused glow on his face, his yellow eyes reading his mind through his own black orbs. Thrax took advantage of Ozzie’s morphing abilities to comb his hair, elongating it until it ran past his shoulders, and even took the liberty to help him shave his goatie and pluck off the remaining stubs, making him look like a real she-cell.

“Shut up, runt!” Thrax growled at Klepta as he held Ozzie close to his side. “Just keep your hands off my pet and stick with the game plan! And that goes for all of you!”

The germs and bactiera-s fell silent and nodded at Thrax’s bark, knowing better than to incur his wrath. They have witnessed firsthand Thrax’s murderous capabilities when one of them thought Thrax’s idea was ridiculous and impossible. He stated boldly out loud that he shouldn’t have fallen for “his stupid broad” and get tricked into this wild goose chase in the first place, which cost him his life as he was grabbed by the neck, dragged to the aquarium in the private room where they had their meeting and was boiled alive as Thrax dunked his head in and heated up the water at the same time. They almost felt an awed admiration towards Ozzie because of him still standing alive and kicking even though it was evident he had been with this killer virus for quite some time, and also the fact that the cell scowled at him and said that he didn’t have to do that during the incident, but only earned a pinch on the cheek and a grudging “He was insulting you, baby” grumble from the virus.

“I just don’t understand why you had to use this kind of game plan,” Klepta huffed, running his fingers through his locks. He was also another person the germs and bacteria-s looked up to because he was the only one who dared to speak to Thrax with the same tone he did and still survive a beating. “I don’t know why you can’t just barge in and take them all out. You’re better than going around sneaking like this. And to think you’re using our doll to…”

“Don’t. You. Dare,” Thrax growled as he grabbed Klepta by the collar. Ozzie grabbed onto his trench-coat to stop him from starting a brawl as usual, but Thrax ignored him. “This is a totally different city we are talking about, with a different set of backgrounds and different immunity system. This is not like all the small fries I’ve taken down so far, and as much as I hate to have my baby participate in this, he is very crucial in taking down this city. Just because you know every badass in this city, doesn’t mean I didn’t do my own homework as well, and the answer to this equation lies on my baby. ‘Sides, I still gotta make it big in the medical books. No harm letting them theorize that I’ve mutated into an unpredictable strain or something. Don’t question my methods. If you don’t like it, you can always just leave. I don’t need you in the first place.”

“And let you monopolize and manipulate our doll?” Klepta said as he activated his plasma claws, daring Thrax to even try to harm a hair out of him. “I’m more or less in this as much as you do, and I vowed to protect our doll from any harm, even if it means coming from a wimp like you! If this master plan of yours get our doll anywhere near any sort of danger, I will personally declaw you myself!”

“Stop being such a knight in shining armour, runt! He’s my baby, and I know what I’m doing. You’re just innit coz you wanna get into his pants!”

“Why, I oughta…”

“Please, Master, please,” Ozzie begged, pulling harder at Thrax’s trench-coat. “Time is running out. We better get going if we wanna get this over and done with.”

Thrax and Klepta glared at each other with a vengeance before the elder virus let the younger go. He turned to Ozzie and stroked his hair.

“Remember what we have planned, baby?”

“Yes, Master,” Ozzie replied timidly, knowing that there was no backing out of this now that they were all here and him in this getup.

“Oh, wait! I got something perfect to match with that!” Klepta pointed, then made a dash to his car. A few seconds later he returned with a white with black spots puppy in his arms. Gleefully, he handed the yapping, panting pup to Ozzie.

“What is that?” Thrax demanded, forbidding Ozzie to come close to it.

“Oh, don’t be such an ass, wimp,” Klepta said in an annoyed tone. “It’s just a puppy.”

“I know it’s a puppy. I’m not blind. What I meant is…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean, wimp. Look, I got this from a friend of mine. The name’s Caesar, if I’m not mistaken, from the AIDS family. He’s got this huge big-ass dog with him that got knocked up when he was killing the previous city. When that bitch gave birth, he dumped half of the litter into my car for no particular reason other than a note saying that they were a parting gift before he left the city we were invading. I’ve been trying to give them away and everyone seemed to choose all but this one. I thought maybe Ozzie might have it. After all, it complements the dress he’s wearing.”

“I’ve already got a pet!” Thrax growled as he shoved Klepta and the puppy away, seeming to want to start another brawl. “I don’t need another mangy mutt to feed! Get it outta my face!”

“Why don’t you ask our doll first? See if he wants it or not?” Klepta raised a brow, testing his patience.

“How many times must I tell you? He’s not our doll, he’s my baby! And my baby wouldn’t want that sort of mutt around,” Thrax turned to Ozzie, “do you, baby?”

Ozzie looked up at Thrax, not sure what to answer. It was evident that the virus wanted him to decline Klepta’s gift, but to be honest, Ozzie had always wanted a pet ever since he saw a fire station pup when he was 13, but being poor back then, he couldn’t afford to feed himself, let alone a pet, and when he was an immunity cop, his busy schedule didn’t exactly allow him time to sit back, relax and play with one. Now he was more or less free from all obligations except to serve Thrax, it wouldn’t hurt to have a pet now…would it?

“Do you, baby?” Thrax asked again, his eyes and tone a warning aura. Everyone present held their breath, waiting for Ozzie’s answer.

Shockingly to them, Ozzie didn’t say anything. Occasionally he looked up with forlorn eyes at Thrax, meeting his glaring yellow orbs, before looking down again, playing with the frills of his dress, but other than that he did not—or dare not—say a word. The response Thrax gave him was venomous as his eyes widened in angry shock at Ozzie’s silent defiance, making everyone else back away, afraid to find out what the virus might do to the cell. Seeing that Ozzie was still in his timid, silent mode, not answering his question, Thrax rolled his eyes in frustration, growled and hastily grabbed the puppy from Klepta’s hand by the scruff of the neck, making the little mutt yelp slightly in pain. He shoved it onto the surprised Ozzie’s chest, who in turn tentatively wrapped his arms around it.

“It’s your responsibility, you hear me?” Thrax barked, then leaned near Ozzie’s ear and whispered, “And I expect something outta this after this is over. That’s not a request.”

Ozzie nodded and hugged the puppy gratefully like a kid who had just been given a Christmas present. Finally, after so many years, he finally got a pet of his own. As he allowed the puppy to lick his face, he knew Thrax was going to make him pay for this brief act of kindness (?) he bestowed upon him, but he didn’t mind. As long as he got what he wanted, he could do an all-nighter if that’s what Thrax wanted.

“Shall we get started now?” Thrax got back to business, rounding up the gang who looked like they finally remembered how to breathe. When everyone voiced their agreement, Thrax turned to Ozzie and said, “Make me proud, baby. If any of these vermin do anything to you, tell me, alright, baby?”

“Yes, Master,” Ozzie nodded before moving to the group he was assigned to. He walked past Klepta and nodded curtly.

“Thank you, Klepta, for the puppy.”

“No big, doll,” Klepta flashed a smile and waved his thanks away casually. “That’s what families do. So watcha gonna name it, doll? It’s a male, so give it a good one.”

Ozzie looked at the puppy that was panting and looking up at him affectionately. It reminded him of the same look given by one of the rookies-in-training he had the sort of ‘unfortunate’ luck to babysit back in Frank. Sadly, the cell died trying to protect him as he moved in the way of a bullet that was meant for him, shot by an overzealous germ who wanted to rupture a blood vessel that might cause Frank to get a stroke. He smiled as he stroked the puppy’s head.

“Kiaran. I’ll name him Kiaran.”

--:--

“Halt, all of you! You’re all under arrest!”

The germs and bacteria-s held their hands up in surrender as they were surrounded by the immunity cells at the stomach. 10 minutes ago, the GPD received a distress call saying that germs and bacteria-s have invaded the stomach area and caused quite a disturbance by rupturing the walls of the arrival port, starting an ulcer. Their amount was so many that the security in the stomach was not enough to apprehend them all and backup came in the form of Gregory’s finest from the nearest GPD precinct.

“Alright! Who’s the brains of the outfit here?” one of the cops demanded. When they hesitated, he pressed the mouthpiece of a gun against one of the germs’ forehead. “C’mon! I haven’t got all day! Don’t make me use unnecessary force for this!”

The group immediately made way for Ozzie to appear. Holding the barking Kiaran in his arms and in his gothic-lolita attire with his elongated hair covering half of his face, he gave off a sort of mysteriously quiet aura as he looked at everyone present nonchalantly.

Of course, that was all part of Thrax’s plan.

“Who are you? State your name!” another cop demanded as he pointed his gun at Ozzie.

Ozzie held his tongue, trying as best as he could to look unaffected by the cop’s harsh tone and the gun at his face.

“What are you, deaf or something? I asked you your name!”

“Our Missus don’t talk to nobody!” one of the germs stepped up to shield Ozzie from the gun.

“Mind your own business, scum!” the first cop shoved him away back into the apprehended group. “Not gonna talk, eh? We’ll see if you’ll open your golden mouth of yours behind bars. Take them all away!”

Within minutes, everyone found themselves in the holding cell of GPD. All the germs and bacteria-s in lockdown sat on the floor, letting Ozzie alone to have the bunk bed. The inmate who was sleeping on the top bunk was harshly dragged down and subdued to the floor with them and when he wanted to protest and put up a fight, he was immediately surrounded by creepy tough-looking scum of Greg and beaten into a pulp, being reminded painfully into submission that “their Missus always comes first”.

Soon, they could hear the main door outside open and in came the Chief of Immunity leading the Mayor of Gregory. The Chief reminded Ozzie of a thin, lanky version of his own Chief, and the Mayor looked like someone who should make body-building a career instead.

“She’s all yours now, Mr. Mayor,” the Chief gestured as he let the guard unlock the door to their prison. The Mayor went in front of Ozzie who sat on the bed, stole a look at the bruised and battered inmate and turned back to the cell.

“The name’s Margo. Margo Triceps. I see you made yourself comfy here.”

Ozzie nodded, still not saying a word.

“So are you going to give us a name here? About who you are, what you are doing here, why you are doing this?”

“Ain’t cha heard what we’ve told yer lackeys?” one of the bacteria-s bellowed. “Our Missus don’t talk to nobody!”

The rest of the group hollered, confirming his statement.

“Shut yer traps, you cruddy little…” the Chief’s words were halted by the mayor raising his hand.
“And why is that?”

“She ain’t got no voice, pal,” the bacteria replied. “She ain’t got nothin’ to help her speak.”

“I see,” Mayor Margo rubbed his chin in interest. “So she’s mute. What a shame. Such a beautiful perfect creature to receive an imperfection. It’s almost a crime in itself.”

Ozzie smiled inwardly; to think that Thrax actually succeeded in disguising him as a she-cell and that the mayor actually fell for his getup.

“So how is it that you understand her orders anyway?” the Chief demanded. “She should have at least some form of communication to tell you what to do, if she really is the head honcho as you claim.”

“Her eyes, man,” the bacteria replied. “Her eyes tell everything she needs to say and only we can read ‘em.”

“Really now?” Mayor Margo eyed Ozzie from head to toe, looking into Ozzie’s eyes to try his luck in reading his mind. Ozzie could tell that the mayor was more interested with his body rather than the motive of his crime. Ozzie grimaced, wondering what it was that made everyone so infatuated with him at first glance. He remembered bragging to Leah about being a legend and that ladies lined up to divide with him, but he didn’t think it would actually come true now, and mostly with the ones of the same sex nonetheless. Was he really such a magnet for males? Were the males even gay to begin with?

“What’s your name, smart-ass?” the Chief barked at the bacteria who did so much of the talking just now.

“The name’s Bubba. What’s it to you, copper?”

“We’re gonna need you to be her translator. Think you can be at least decent for a bit while we’re at it?”

The bacteria named Bubba and Ozzie exchanged glances. Everything was going according to plan so far, just as Thrax predicted. Bubba had played his part and spoken his script well. They nodded simultaneously and Bubba turned to the Chief.

“I’ll be good…for now.”

“Good,” the Chief replied. “Watcha think, Mr. Mayor?”

“I think it’s good,” Mayor Margo agreed. “We can let Bubba tag along with her. They will be put under maximum security in the brain centre, of course, until we find out what’s her real motive and we’ll deal with it from there.”

“Right,” the Chief nodded, then made a motion with his thumb. “You! Hear that, Bubba? You’re sprung! Outta here! Go lick your Missus’s boots if you wanna.”

Bubba got up, secretly exchanging glances with the other germs and bacteria-s to get the green light, then held out his hand for Ozzie to hold. Ozzie took it and got up, looking like a princess that needed to be waited hand and foot.

“You gonna give us a name at least?” Mayor Margo asked, his eyes still not yet letting their hold on Ozzie go.

Ozzie just looked sideways at Bubba. Bubba nodded. He knew what to say anyways.

“Ozma. Her name is Ozma Lymphocyte.”

--:--

“Good evening, Ozma. How’re you doing?”

Ozzie turned around to see Mayor Margo entering the lush bedroom he was in. Kiaran barked distastefully at him and was hushed by the cell.

Ozzie didn’t start off having a room like this. The first few hours after he and Bubba was sprung out from lockdown, they were led with full immunity escorts all the way to the brain centre. There, with Bubba’s ‘translations’, they were interrogated some in the questioning room of the security department of the brain under the watchful eye of Mayor Margo. Nothing much was said to them, only that ‘Ozma’ was a T4 cell infected by a virus ‘she’ couldn’t remember who because the trauma blocked out that particular memory and ‘she’ became independent ever since, going from city to city to cause as much citywide harm as possible while she was there, but never really killing the city other than letting it destroy itself on its own. When asked why did ‘she’ do it, Bubba just crossed his arms and said that “his Missus felt like it and they don’t ask questions’, and refused to elaborate more on that, convincing everyone that ‘Ozma’ was more dangerous than ‘she’ was letting on.

They were kept in the maximum security prison for a while before Mayor Margo started frequenting the place under the pretense of interrogation. Finally, just as Thrax predicted in their master plan, Mayor Margo decided to separate Ozzie from Bubba in order to force a true motive confession out of him, but in reality, he had kept him in a private bedroom under lock and key just right beside the mayor’s bedroom in his mansion within the brain centre. According to Thrax, if that were to happen, Bubba was to contact Klepta via mini walkie-talkie (courtesy from Klepta who got it at an electronic thrift shop) that was hidden deep within the scales of his skin to avoid detection so that they could get ready for Phase II, and as soon as Mayor Margo was out of sight with Ozzie, he did just that.

“I hope you’ve been feeling at ease here. Sorry I had to separate you from your translator and all, but to be honest, I want to get to know you on my own terms.”

Ozzie gave a disconcerted look, which was probably genuine enough. Mayor Margo may be curt and being a gentleman in handling him, but Ozzie could tell that he was more brawn than brain.

“It’s too bad you can’t talk,” Mayor Margo said as he reached over to stroke Ozzie’s hair. “I’d love to hear your voice. It must be very pretty.”

Ozzie glared at him darkly before slapping his hand away. It wasn’t an act to make himself play the part of a bad guy, although it worked to his advantage. The last thing he wanted was some grubby muscle-clad hand touching him. Mayor Margo put his hand away, unaffected by the sting of the slap.

“It may sound a little cheesy to you, but I think I have fallen for you the first time I saw you in that cell. Can’t blame me, you looked so stunning in that dress and you got such a femme fatale diva look on you, I just couldn’t help myself. Now, I know you’ve just tried to kill Gregory and all, but if you like I can try to convince the guys to go easy on you, then work our way from there. I assure you, I can be a very good…”

Ozzie heard enough. He grabbed a pillow and threw it at Mayor Margo’s face before pointing at the door, telling him in his silent way to leave. He was right in a way; it was cheesy. How could he shamelessly claim that he was in love with him when they’ve only just met for barely 3 days, and when he knew he had just tried to make a hole in Gregory’s digestive system? Has he got some viral fetish or something? What is it with him attracting the wrong kind of attention anyway?

“Come on, Ozma. It’s not so bad,” Mayor Margo came closer, having his arm around his waist and stroking his cheek with his free hand, pushing the yapping puppy out of the cell’s hands. “Think about it: You and I together, running this town. You don’t even have to go around destroying cities because you won’t have the need to. I’m the mayor of this city and even if I don’t succeed in getting reelected, my wealth is enough to cover us for the rest of our lives. We could start slow,” his fingers traced Ozzie’s jaw line, “then work our way in…getting to know each a little better.”

All of a sudden—even though he couldn’t understand it himself—Ozzie felt disgusted being around him. His touches and caresses were almost the same as Thrax but somehow it didn’t feel right. He was disgusted before when others touched him, but this was ten times worse. Somehow, deep down inside him, he’d rather have Thrax’s arms around him than anyone else. He didn’t know why, but he had to get away from him.

Without warning, Ozzie reached out and sucker-punched the mayor. While he was still stunned, he broke out of his hold and ran to the table, grabbing a random book and ramming it as hard as he could across the mayor’s other cheek, bruising him badly and making him fall to the floor. Surprisingly, instead of being pissed off by his outburst, Mayor Margo burst out laughing, his hands nursing his pulverized face.

“Wow!” Mayor Margo exclaimed excitedly. “What a woman! I think I love you even more! You must become my bride!”

Ozzie looked at him weirdly, still arming himself with the book. Is he for real? he thought. Is he a friggin’ adrenaline junkie or something? A masochist, even?

“Look, sweetheart, maybe we shouldn’t rush into thing,” Mayor Margo straightened himself. “Maybe we got a little on the wrong foot. Just sleep on it for a while, and give it a little thought, aye? Who knows? Maybe you might see things my way soon enough, sweetheart.”

Baby, doll, sweetheart…I’m sick of being called like that! Ozzie scowled as he flung the book at Mayor Margo, barely nicking him, as he tried to force him to leave. I got a friggin’ name, you know?!

“See ya soon, sweetheart,” Mayor waved and blew a kiss at him before closing and locking the door behind him, leaving alone, seething with anger and disgust.

Kiaran whined and rubbed against Ozzie’s ankle. Ozzie looked at it for a while, sighed and picked it up, hugging it close to his chest and whispered to it so that no one would hear him talk.

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess. This is really one heck of a mission.”

Poison-Chp10

“That was a pretty good haul, ain’t it, baby?”

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?

--:--

“Mmh…Th…Thrax…?”

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.”

Poison-Chp9

After staying for about 3 days in the mouse’s body, Thrax decided it was time for them to make their move. Listening in to Abigail’s phone conversation, they found out that she was going to attend another Rodent Lovers’ Fair next week and the possible number of people attending would prove a good way to find the perfect victim.

On the day of the fair, Thrax and Ozzie waited patiently at the tip of the mouse’s nose along with Cox and his family, who decided as well that it was about time they moved on to another rat city. Lucky for them, there were a lot of rodents as well as people in the fair, some of them having the huge common black rats as pets. Bidding their farewells to Serione and each other, they waited for the opportune moment to leap off the mouse’s nose and went off their separate ways.

Thrax, with Ozzie holding onto him tight, leapt and glided from one obstacle to another to find the best body they could get into. Ozzie helped him be his tracking eyes as to which one he thought could be the best victim, but ultimately Thrax chose a middle-aged man who was one of the curious visitors in the fair just checking out the event. They landed on the donut he was eating and hid in the icing sugar, bracing themselves as the man took another bite, swallowing them in.

Ozzie learnt that occasionally, Thrax was a sucker for making grand entrances. Just as he did when he came into the private booth during their secret meeting with the immunity force in the city of Nana, he made his shocking appearance when the saliva boat came to do their routine check-up of germ-busting. Holding onto Thrax just right, Ozzie watched as Thrax used his killer claw to blast them out of the gooey dough they were encased in and stood there as Thrax killed off the poor saliva boat cells before navigating the boat down the throat. Once they were almost close to the highway that led to the stomach, they leapt off the boat and flew down the other connecting highway to the liver to lay low for a while, leaving the boat to its unknown fate.

Gregory Metropolis—the city they were in—was an average Joe sort of city, although it looked much better than Frank and Nana combined. It would probably prove a bit of a challenge for Thrax because Gregory was a man who lived life to the fullest with no record of any major health problems. Of course, Gregory had his ups and downs of health when he was younger, but other than that, it did not affect the city in any sort of tidal scale. Officers of Gregory’s finest were pretty competent and the inhabitants of Gregory were basically happy, contented and healthy. Ozzie could tell that to take this city down, they were going to need to approach the correct party.

Again, Ozzie became an accessory to Thrax’s plan. Posing as a male hooker (under the threat of punishment by Thrax, of course), Ozzie was asked to try and look for suitable people to be recruited for his Master’s grand heist. Using his investigative skills and his experience in undercover work, Thrax sent him to certain areas to try and look for interested candidates and the first place he dropped him off was The Mole Blitz, which was a disco pub located just above Gregory’s left armpit.

“I thought you didn’t want me to be touched,” Ozzie complained as they stood in a secluded area a few feet away from the pub.

“Well, in this case, we’ll have to make an exception,” Thrax said as he stroked Ozzie’s face with his non-lit killer claw. “Desperate times calls for desperate measures, baby, and in this kind of city, we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“I’m sensing some ground rules you’re gonna give me before I make my move,” Ozzie pouted, folding his arms across his chest.

“Very smart, baby,” Thrax chuckled while undoing the leash he had on Ozzie throughout their entire journey in Gregory. “The only thing I will not allow you to let them do is have their lips on you. They can touch or grope you anywhere they liked except you-know-where, but their lips are off limits on any part of your body, especially your own, period. Got that, baby?”

“Crystal,” Ozzie replied grudgingly. He didn’t like being touched, much less being kissed, by anyone in particular, but unless he wanted to be unable to sit properly or be degraded further than he already was, he thought it wise to just stick with the game plan.

“Now go,” Thrax pecked Ozzie’s forehead and shoved him towards the direction of the pub. “Make me proud, baby. You know which room I’ll be in.”

Taking a deep breath, Ozzie relaxed his shoulders and made his way into the front door of the pub. There was quite a long line waiting outside the pub to get in because of the sheer amount of people inside, but Ozzie marched right up to the security guard there and gave him the most seductive smile he could muster—pretending the other party was Leah—and flashed his bare back a little to him to persuade him to let him in first. After allowing the guard to caress his back (much to his disgust) and promising him that he’ll have ‘a good time’ once his shift was over, the cell was allowed in amidst the protest of those waiting in line.

Once inside, Ozzie scanned through the area and noticed there was a handful of potential germs and bacteria-s seemingly good enough for his Master’s agenda. Keeping himself within their eyeshot, he strutted his stuff and moved to the center of the dance floor. He gave a flirtatious eye contact with the DJ jamming the songs to crank up the beat and leaned his neck from side to side to get rid of the cricks. Once the music switched to a stronger techno beat, Ozzie started moving to it, swaying his hips and arms along with the music. Many people who saw him break the dance floor approached him one by one (sometimes more than one at one time) to dance with him, but only a few of them seemed to be worthy enough to be chosen as part of Thrax’s crew, while others were just the regular people wanting to have a go with him. Thinking back to his high school where he used to moonlight as a dancer in clubs to lure in the cash (and the ladies) and also the times where he had to go undercover involving going to discos and clubs to shake a tail-cell or two, he danced along with anyone who came along, gesturing those he thought were good to wait for him outside the private room in the pub Thrax had booked and designated him to bring, while getting lost in his little world of pounding tempo and blasting sound waves. Occasionally he stole a glance at the other germs and bacteria-s who chose to look from afar, giving them the same eye contact he gave the DJ that they were welcomed to approach him anytime. Their grins and smirks told Ozzie that they have gotten the message.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Baby, you’re lookin’ mighty fine.”

A deep, husky voice made Ozzie turned to look in front of him. The voice belonged to a male that stood equivalently as tall as Thrax, with dirty blonde locks that ran all the way past his butt and greenish-black skin. He had the most haunting red eyes Ozzie had ever seen, with black pupils like a snake’s, and when he smiled, he had teeth exactly like Thrax’s. He was wearing a dark blue vest and a pair of three-quarter pants and cellular leather boots, and had mini neon lights hanging out of the loops of his pants where the belt was supposed to be. As he ran his claws through Ozzie’s hair, the cell could tell this person was more than a germ or a bacteria.

“Funny, I didn’t think there’d be viruses in this joint,” Ozzie said as he continued to dance around the male, swaying his hips to the beat.

“Oh, I’ve been laying low for quite some time, baby,” the virus replied, sounding almost exactly his Master. He wrapped one hand around Ozzie’s waist and smirked, “You, on the other hand, are new in town, ain’t cha? Care to join me for a drink?”

“If you don’t mind the extra company,” Ozzie replied, pointing at the germs and bacteria-s that were starting to get off their seats and moving towards them, “and also if you don’t mind a bit of a score my Master is offering.”

“I see,” the virus raised a brow in interest. “So you’re serving under a pimp now. Kinky. My kind of baby.”

“Shall we?” Ozzie said as he turned towards the group of germs and bacteria-s, who in turn followed his lead to the private room where Thrax was waiting.

--:--

“Thrax?”

“Klepta?”

Thrax and the said Klepta stood in front of each other in surprise as Ozzie led the group into the private room. If he didn’t have his blonde hair and greenish-black skin, he and Thrax would’ve looked like twins.

“What the heck are you doing here?” Thrax demanded, clearly offended at the younger virus’ presence.

“What the heck are you doing here? This is my joint!” Klepta growled back.

“Um…You guys know each other?” Ozzie asked awkwardly, even though he knew it was a dumb question.

“Baby, you didn’t tell me your pimp was my half-brother,” Klepta said as he put an arm around Ozzie’s shoulder. Thrax snarled and pushed Klepta away, holding the surprised Ozzie possessively.
“Keep your hands away from my pet, you ass! And no one calls him ‘Baby’ but me!”

“I don’t see your name written on this doll! ‘Sides, he came on to me himself!”

“He came on to you because he didn’t know any better! I told him to gather recruits, and got you as the runt of the litter!”

“You’re still the sulky, whiny half-elder brother I always knew,” Klepta sneered. “Now who’s the runt of the litter?”

“Is that a challenge?” Thrax growled and flexed out his killer claw, prompting Klepta to arm himself with both his claws glowing in some sort of sickly green plasma-like flare.

“Bring it on, wimp!”

“Guys! Guys, stop!” Ozzie quickly stood between the brothers before they started an all-out war. “Master, the recruits are all here waiting for your big plan. Shouldn’t you start briefing them?”

“Wait, you’re gonna steal my joint now?” Klepta asked bewilderedly. “I was here first! This is my city to blow, not yours! Why do you always have to take what’s rightfully mine?!”

“Well, it’s your fault for taking your sweet time! Finders, keepers, baby…”

“Master, please,” Ozzie begged, embracing Thrax to stop him from squabbling any longer. “I promised them you’ll show up. Please…”

Thrax glared long and hard at Klepta before retracting his killer claw and ran his fingers through his dreadlocks, composing himself. After allowing Ozzie to adjust his collar and shirt, he turned to the direction of the germs and bacteria-s all seated there waiting for something to happen, but not before having the final word.

“You’re lucky I got a pet that had the bleeding hearts of the world united in him. I’ll call you when I need you, Jones. Make sure you keep that runt outta my way while I talk business with the boys.”
“Yes, Master,” Ozzie nodded obligingly.

“Who you’re calling…” Klepta’s yell was cut short when he saw Thrax was clearly shutting him out. With a huff, he stomped out of the private room and sat at a drinking booth just right outside the corridor. Ozzie, after taking a second glance to make sure Thrax didn’t need him just yet, walked out and joined him.

“Hey, uh…Sorry about that…I didn’t know…”

“Ain’t your fault, doll,” Klepta grumbled as he took two glasses of glowing drinks from the passing-by waiter and offered one to Ozzie. “You don’t have to apologize for my half-brother. He’s an ass. Always has been, always will be. Standing up for him would be a waste of your time.”

“How did you get into this body anyway?” Ozzie asked. “Last time we checked, Gregory was in tip-top shape.”

“Well, doll, conveniently for me, he probably had forgotten about being nipped by the neighbour’s puppy a few months back. It may have grazed his finger a little, but it was enough for me to hop in. I was planning to take him down, since ol’ Greg didn’t think that rabies shot was necessary, when your Master showed up.”

“You said Thrax is your half-brother. How did that go about?”

Klepta drained the drink in one gulp before continuing, the drink leaving a dim glow on his tongue, “We are half-siblings on the mother’s side. Our father was a bigamist and enjoyed having many wives under his wing to spread the bloodline, but Thrax’s mother is basically like the matriarch of the sisterhood. My mother is from the Rabies family while our 5 other mothers are from the Salmonella, TB, German Measles, Yellow Fever and Ebola family.”

“Wow, that’s…a really big family,” Ozzie widened his eyes in shock, imagining the Black Death having so many she-viruses tailing along behind him with spawns of their own.

“Thrax had always been the spoilt brat of the family, always whining and griping and wanting everything for himself. Of all the siblings, he hated the ones from our Ebola mother with a passion because he was jealous of their killing abilities and that the mother always bragged about the glorious good ol’ days when her family struck fear in everyone as one of the deadliest, most grotesque diseases next to AIDS. If anyone had inspired him to be such a glory-hog and always wanting to prove his worth, forcing him to finally stand up on his own two feet, it’ll probably be her.”

Guess that’s where his obsession and determination to break records and getting into medical books came from, Ozzie sipped his drink quietly, which was bitter-sweet to the taste with a tinge of alcohol, finally understanding a little about the source of his Master’s overzealousness.

“Dang, doll, look at me! I’m talking to you as if I’ve known you forever!” Klepta laughed at himself. “You must have some sort of power over me to loosen my tongue like this.”

“Maybe I just got one of those faces,” Ozzie said, then thought, Or maybe you’re just friggin’ drunk!
“So what’s your story, doll? I can see that you ain’t from around this body.”

“Yeah, well, it’s kinda sorta long story,” Ozzie scratched his chin and looked away, “but the gist of it is that he destroyed my city, kidnapped me and made me a partially infected cell,” he gestured at his dimly glowing body, “and forced me to be his slave, always making me do all sorts of perverted things while doing it to me as well.”

“I think you look stunning as a partially infected cell. But it does strike me as odd,” Klepta tapped his chin wonderingly. “The little wimp had always been a loner even amongst us. He’s not known to be attached to anyone or anything. I’m actually surprised you had it easy with him.”

Ozzie rolled his eyes at the last remark. Nothing was ‘easy’ when it was Thrax they were talking about. But some of Klepta’s words sort of rang true. Throughout his days with Thrax, he had watched the virus kill without mercy and left many for dead, even gave the death penalty to those who defied him, but Ozzie had always been kept alive till now. Thrax had threatened death many times over with his killer claw at him, but never once did he felt the wrath of, as Thrax put it, ‘heating up like a sidewalk on a summer day’. Spanked, yes. Slapped, yes. Scolded, yes. Forced to do and endure perverted punishments, yes. Actual death, never. Ozzie was lost in his thought trying to make sense of it all.

“Do you hate being with him?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Ozzie looked up at Klepta, his muse broken.

“Do you like the things he’s done to you so far?” Klepta asked, taking another round of drinks for them.

“O…Of course not!” Ozzie protested. “You have no idea what dirty things he made me do against my will, and what he does to me whenever I disobeyed him or whenever he couldn’t keep his hormones in his pants!”

“So I asked: Do you hate being with him?”

“Well, I…I dunno…I mean, I guess I…” Ozzie somehow suddenly found himself unable to answer the question. It was simple enough. He didn’t like what Thrax did to him, right? He was taken against his will to become his slave and killed Frank and everyone he loved in him. He was spanked black and blue whenever he misbehaved, and made to do very degrading things. He was happy enough to be able to at least eat and breathe without having to ask permission. He was a murderer, a sadist and everything evil in between. He should have the right to be angry with him, right? Then the answer should obvious enough for this question. Why couldn’t he bring himself to say it? Why won’t the simplest answer to the easiest question in the whole wide world spill out of his mouth?

Klepta grinned, seemingly knowing the mystery behind Ozzie’s hesitation, and said, “Well, since I’ve spouted so much of our skeletons in the family closet, lemme tell you something about Thrax. Something he would never, ever admit, even to himself. The real reason why he is so hell-bent on making it big in the medical books.”

If Ozzie had dog ears, it would’ve perked up eagerly to hear what Klepta had to say.

“When he was 21 and was getting the hang of his powers, he stepped into his first city and unexpectedly fell for a she-cell who worked under the Scab Unit. She was quite charismatic and headstrong, and despite himself, ol’ wimp there got himself falling heads over heels for her. He planned to stay in the city and give up his nature, and had been wooing her in his own so-called gentleman ways.

“The she-cell knew their love was forbidden, but she accepted his advances anyway. But an immunity he-cell who had a crush on her found out about their illicit relationship and was adamant to get rid of Thrax to have her for his own. That he-cell snuck into the she-cell’s home and killed her family in cold blood, imitating Thrax’s signature MO and thus put the blame on the poor wimp. The she-cell was so upset that she committed suicide by confronting Thrax and forced his killer claw into her, boiling her alive, telling him before she died that she would never forgive him even in death and he would regret betraying her for the rest of his miserable life. Sometimes I wonder who was the real bad guy here, Thrax or the cell who swore an oath in immunity to protect the city for all its worth.

“After finding the he-cell and killing him, trashing the city in the process, Thrax was never the same again. His loner personality got worse, and he became much more malicious and vicious than he already was, with his ego and jazz-loving attitude as a cover-up for a deadly killer within. He killed, pillaged and burned because the fire and the heat he caused was probably the only consolation he could get from his pained past, the only comfort he could get from the scorch knowing that the she-cell is part of it, consumed and living forever within it, to feel her presence within those flames…Probably also the only way he could create a tribute to the only she-cell he had ever loved so deeply through the recognition in the medical books…”

“H…How do you know all this?” Ozzie asked in surprise and wonder as he looked at Klepta’s faraway gaze.

“I may hate his guts and all, but he’s still the closest to a real brother he had ever been with me compared to the rest of our siblings. I was there, doll. His mother made me go along with him to…learn the ropes from him, as she put it, and I was there when everything happened. I watched as Thrax swoon over her endlessly, even though he furiously denied it in front of me, and I watched as the she-cell melted away in Thrax’s arms when she committed suicide through his means. We went our separate ways after that, only bumping into each other once in a blue moon, getting at each other’s throats in the process. Didn’t think we’d meet again.”

“Oh, well, I guess it’s thanks to me,” Ozzie looked down, barely realizing he had already finished his drink.

“There I go again. Spouting to you all our family secret’s, even telling you Thrax’s deep, dark ones that he’d rather keep it within him, locked, the key thrown away and forgotten. What are you doing to me, doll?”

Nothing you did to yourself, Ozzie thought as he smiled sheepishly on the outside.

“Listen, doll,” Klepta said as he took Ozzie’s chin. “Don’t tell Thrax that I told you all this, and if you feel that your true answer about your feelings towards Thrax is hate, feel free to find me. Since he’s here, there’s no point for me to take down this city. It’s his turf now. I’ll hang around and watch his handiwork before I leave, just for the sake of seeing if he was really worth being mentioned in the medical books, but if you like, I can hitch you a ride where you can pick a body and live the rest of your life normally.”

Ozzie held his breath in shock. Him leaving Thrax for good and leave this hellish life to live a normal one in a new city? Maybe wanting a normal life was asking too much, given his partially infected condition, but still, to no longer be subjected to the perverse things Thrax made him do? Could he actually help him do that? What about Thrax? What would become of him? Could this Klepta guy even be trusted?

“No need to wrack your brains over it, doll,” Klepta laughed at Ozzie’s facial expression. “Take your time. Thrax ain’t gonna leave so soon, not till he’s done with this gig. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

“W…Why…? Why are you…treating me so nice…?” Ozzie asked skeptically.

“Coz you’re such a fine thing, doll, that’s why. I can see why Thrax is so possessive over you now,” Klepta replied huskily before taking another long look at the cell. His red eyes widened a little when he noticed something, “Heck, now that I look at you, doll, you look just like her, only you’re a guy.”

“Like who?”

“Trisha. The she-cell I was talking about. The Trisha whom Thrax was so crazy about.”

“W-Wha…?”

“Jones. Get in here, baby.”

Ozzie turned to see Thrax’s authoritative look as he held the door open for the cell to enter. Quickly, Ozzie got off his seat and went in. Thrax gave a last venomous glare at Klepta before shutting the door, then proceeded to put Ozzie in display and giving them the usual false promises of coming along with him for the ride to conquer other cities.

As Ozzie quietly allowed Thrax to treat him like a prized trophy, he couldn’t help feeling a sort of revelation behind Thrax’s demeanour, and also Klepta’s deal.

Poison-Chp8

Ozzie finally understood how goldfish felt like as he sat on Thrax’s lap in the midst of the din. Pretending to be very interested with his shoes, he wished fervently that this party would end quickly.
It was a bumpy ride once they were in Buffalo. Reaching Buffalo was one thing, getting to their true destination was another. Majah was not quite done with Ozzie’s new clothes, so while waiting, Thrax finally allowed Ozzie to get out of bed to watch how Cox controlled the rat to go to their intended place.

As soon as the rat was done swimming in the underground sewage and came out of one of the drainage in the subways of Buffalo, Cox immediately went to overdrive and took manual control of it. Ozzie and Thrax watched through the visual feed as Cox drove the rat to where he wanted it to go, seemingly enjoying himself, as if he was a child presented with a car video game. They went past a few restaurants and café houses, traveled through a drugstore and a sundry shop and finally into a suburban housing area.

According to Cox, after picking a few word-of-mouths from their extended relatives who were on other rats, the Serione they were looking for was staying in a white mouse’s body which was a pet to a girl named Abigail who lived in the suburban housing area. Serione wanted to make it big scale in the medical books as being the first in the Black Death family to spread her plague through common household rodent pets after the Black Death Siege—as the family called it—in the history of viral espionage, and chosen this place to be her first target. While Cox figured out how to enter the house, Majah came in with Ozzie’s new clothes. Ozzie, who was watching the journey in his night robes sitting on Thrax’s lap, hoped that it wasn’t as bad as his midriff and quarter pants, but he was disappointed.

It was worse.

Once he discarded the night robes and put on the clothes made by Majah, he realized that it didn’t need a genius to figure out that Majah made this based on Thrax’s design. It was a sleeveless one-piece black overall-like outfit which ran down barely past his knees and his back totally exposed for all the world to see. The only bright side he could see about this outfit was that it was easy to put on. He only needed to step into the outfit, pull it up over him and fasten the clasp that held the one-piece outfit together behind his neck. When he came out with it, everyone in Cox’s family whooped and whistled their approval while Thrax eyed at him from head to toe lustfully.

Ozzie really felt like he wanted to just dig a hole right in the middle of a blackhead and bury himself alive at that time.

Soon, Cox decided to wait until nightfall when everyone in the house was asleep before making their move. Cox deliberately made the rat go to somewhere visible for the house cat to see, then quickly, along with Thrax and Ozzie, made a run for it to the emergency escape pods located at the rat’s intestines, leaving the city and everyone else in it, including the mayor, to fend for themselves. Once the house cat saw the poor rat scampering there listlessly and started pouncing and tearing it piece by piece, they all escaped through the pods that ejected them out along with the blood and guts that were mutilated out. They waited patiently in the pod for the cat to gorge itself on the rat and braced themselves as it licked their pods along with the mutilated pieces and left them stuck between the bristles of the cat’s tongue. It took quite a while before the cat tried to sneak up on the pet mouse and got shooed away by the angry Abigail, but not before it tried to chew on the cage railings and indirectly dropping the pod along with its drool into the cage. They took this as a cue to spring out of the pod and hid in the mouse’s feeding bowl and waited until the mouse ate its food, swallowing them whole.

Inside the mouse city, the inhabitants were less crude than the ones in the rat, and its sanitation was tolerable at best, but they were just as dumb and ignorant as those in the dog. Cox requested an escort from the immunity force—if you could call a bunch of cells sitting there eating doughnuts and chatting away and not out there arresting germs or whatnot and totally oblivious that they were actually staring at a group of viruses (minus Ozzie) an immunity force—to take them to Serione who ran the body and just like in rat city, Serione was there sitting on the mayor’s lap. The poor mayor had a collar and a leash on just like Cox’s pet mayor, with only a pair of boxers as his means of clothing, making Ozzie feel almost relieved he was wearing what he had on him.

Serione was a very beautiful, almost mythical-looking, virus that stood just a few inches shorter than Cox and Thrax. With her silver flowing hair and pale skin matched with aquamarine and cellular leather dominatrix clothes, she would’ve made even she-cells swoon at her beauty, but Ozzie could see that beneath the elegant façade lay a deadly, ambitious mind. Serione was obviously thrilled to see Cox and his family and was equally ecstatic to see Thrax and Ozzie, praising the virus fervently about his success in getting into the medical books and his ability to take down a city and snag a pet at the same time. Once Thrax allowed Ozzie, Ozzie took Serione’s hand to kiss like a Frenchman would to a lady, and realized that her hand was as cold as ice. Thrax explained to him in private that Serione was quarter Malaria from France and her cold skin was part of the viral features in Malaria that gives humans the symptoms of cold flashes when infected. Serione insisted that all of them, Ozzie included, should join in the citywide party they were about to hold to celebrate the body’s successful pregnancy. Apparently when Abigail went to the Rodent Lovers Fair, bringing the mouse along with her, the mouse mated with one of her friends’ brown rat while she was not looking and, as all rodents’ extraordinary breeding potency, the mouse was no doubt pregnant. Abigail didn’t know about it at the moment, but every inhabitant of mouse city was rejoicing over it, and it was Serione’s perfect chance to spread her plague to the unborn litter as well.

Thus, in the party at Cerebellum Hall, besides Cox and the family, Ozzie was the center of attention as everyone both male and female there couldn’t help stopping and staring at him, their eyes obviously thinking naughty thoughts from the way he was dressed. The only thing that kept those cells at bay was Thrax’s stabbing glare and the twitch of his killer claw to those who dare to even think of wanting to steal a grope at the cell. Ozzie didn’t eat much during the party, but Thrax insisted that the cell drink whatever was offered by everyone. Thanks to the cell’s not-so-happy upbringing when he was younger and still in Frank, he was more or less quite tolerant to alcoholic drinks, but he could feel the bloat of having so much liquid in his gut that the sight of food made him lose his appetite.

Finally, towards near dawn, the party ended and everyone was all knocked out and sprawled on the floor from the booze except Serione, Cox and his wife Majah, and Thrax. Ozzie, who fell asleep on the virus’ lap with his head against his shoulder, was awoken to leave the party, but instead of going back to the guesthouse, Ozzie found himself going to the opposite direction as he followed behind Thrax’s wake.

“Where are we going, Master?” Ozzie asked in confusion.

“Just for a little walk,” Thrax said. “We drank a lot just now and we need to sober up a little. Sleeping with an intoxicated mind is not good for the head, I can assure you. Besides, we need to enjoy the coolness while it lasts. Once the mouse wakes up, we won’t have this sort of perfect temperature any longer.”

Ozzie knew the virus was right. He had that experience before. When a body sleeps, everything including the muscles and the heartbeat goes down to a rather slow rate, and when the heart is not pumping blood away as it usually does when the body is awake, the body temperature would go down just a little bit, like what happens to animals when they are in hibernation period, and everyone in the body would feel a little bit of the chill in the air. This was what they were feeling now. The last time he actually felt this cool was the day he was fired by Mayor Phlegmming for lashing out at him, but in truth he had wanted Ozzie to keep Thrax’s existence under wraps.

“Oh, I almost forgot your present from Serione,” Thrax said as he dug through his inner pockets of his trench-coat. As Ozzie watched, he saw the virus pull out a long piece of black rope with a clasp at one end and a grip handle on the other. With a smirk, Thrax looped one end through Ozzie’s collar and fastened it with the clasp, then held onto the grip handle, winding part of the loose end around his hand.

“Now we can go for that walk,” Thrax said as he gave a shove at Ozzie’s shoulder to walk in front of him. “Go on, baby. Let’s make a move on.”

Ozzie knew Thrax said he was going to get him a leash for the collar, but didn’t think that he would actually do it. Sighing inwardly, he moved ahead of the virus, feeling his gaze on his bare back as they walked all the way to the recreational park at the eye area. It was dark and deserted with only a few park lights on because there was no view, thanks to the mouse’s closed eyes, and it seemed that Thrax and Ozzie were the only ones there, judging by their echoing footsteps.

Thrax then walked ahead of Ozzie and approached a vending machine in the park. Using some spare change he had, he slotted them in and chose a warm drink from it. Opening the can, he passed it to Ozzie.

“Here, drink this,” Thrax said. “It’s nice and warm, good for curing your tipsy head and also your bloat.”

“But…But I can’t drink anymore…My stomach…” Ozzie protested but Thrax stared him down with one hand on the vending machine, making the cell cringe against it.

“You are my slave and I am your…?”

“M-My Master…”

“And what did I say you must do?”

“Obey your every order.”

“And when I say I want you to drink it?”

“I…I’ll drink it.”

“So what must you do now?”

Ozzie nodded tentatively and sipped the drink. Looking up at Thrax, he could see from the virus’ eyes that he wanted him to do more than just sip. Taking a deep breath, Ozzie chugged down the drink as fast as he could, the warm liquid flowing down his throat and engulfing his gut. He knew that Thrax was lying about the drink curing bloat because he felt more like a walking water balloon rather than feeling better, but there was no way in hell he was allowed to complain about it.
“You done?” Thrax asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ozzie quickly swallowed the last drop and nodded, throwing the can into the nearest bin. Thrax moved backwards a little, loosening his grip a little on the leash, and made Ozzie stay where he was.
“Stand there. Spread your legs a little. I want to see your body.”

Ozzie complied. He spread his legs a little and hung his arms to his sides, allowing Thrax to eye him from head to toe.

“Now turn to the side and lean forward a little.”

Ozzie did so. As he leaned forward, a little bit of his outfit sagged along with him as well, revealing a bit of his body within. Thrax’s gaze shifted to his middle and saw that the bruise seemed to look better.

“Hmm, the bruise is still there,” Thrax commented. “But I think it won’t be too long before it’s healed. Turn around. Lean your hands against the machine and stick your ass out for me.”

Ozzie hesitated for a moment before doing as he was told. He placed his hands against the machine and leaned down until his butt was facing the virus. Unconsciously, his mind went back to the day where he was asked to undo his pants while balancing the drinks on his hands, and it somehow triggered some sort of reaction to his body. He didn’t know whether he was actually aroused by it or that his nucleus was urging him to go to the bathroom, but he could feel himself leaking through his pants. Thrax noticed his body reaction and squatted in front of Ozzie’s ass.

“What’s this I see?” Thrax teased as he raked his normal claw lightly at Ozzie’s crotch, feeling the wet patch. “You’re starting to feel it, aren’t you?”

“N-No, that’s…that’s n-n-not true…” Ozzie protested despite himself.

“You’re starting to look like a proper slave now, baby. But you still have a long way to go,” Thrax grinned as he pulled at the leash to make him stand up straight again. “Come along now. Let’s keep walking, but this time, I want you to go on your hands and knees.”

“You…You mean you want me to walk…like a dog?” Ozzie widened his eyes a little, clearly offended.

“Yes, like a dog. You got a problem with that?”

It was, to Ozzie, a stupid question to ask, but to reply what he really felt was stupid as well unless he was a sucker for punishment. Mentally cursing the virus, he went down on his hands and knees and crawled after Thrax, thinking regretfully about not making the decision to just release his hold on the virus and allow himself to drop to his death that fateful day Frank died. He finally knew the full scale of Thrax mentioning before to ‘punish him properly’ and that he had not forgotten the day Ozzie accused him of being the root of his misery. He was almost thankful that the park was deserted, but he was still wary about the possibility that they were not alone and that people might see this form of display, but unfortunately Thrax wasn’t exactly allowing him to give this possibility a second thought.

Thrax walked down the park until he reached a nearby bench. Sitting down, he pulled at the leash to urge Ozzie to move faster.

“Get over here, baby. Quickly.”

Ozzie crawled a little faster towards Thrax until he was facing the virus’ crotch. Looking up at the virus, he waited for his next order.

“You know what to do next, don’t you, baby?”

Ozzie nodded, knowing very well what the virus had in mind. Patting his hands off the dirt, he reached up to unzip Thrax’s fly and took his man meat out. Just as he did the first time, he stuck his tongue out and started licking the tip before wrapping his elastic tongue around the cock just the way Thrax liked it. Once the cock hardened and came to life, Ozzie widened his mouth to take him in, trying to swallow him whole. Thanks to his elasticity, it was easy for him to relax his throat and take him to the hilt, although it occasionally probed at his gag reflex and he had to pull back a little.
As he sucked, the kneeling position he was in was causing his nucleus to protest for release of the excess liquid that gathered within it. In fact, as Thrax reached over to undo the clasp behind Ozzie’s neck that held the outfit in place—revealing his top half of his body for the world to see—he could feel it threatening to burst. Grabbing onto the lower half of the outfit to hold back the exploding feeling, he released his oral hold on Thrax’s member and breathed heavily to subdue the impending urge to pee in his pants.

“I have not ordered you to stop, Jones,” Thrax said warningly.

“P-P-Please, Master,” Ozzie begged. “L-Let me g-go to the toilet…”

“And let you walk out in the middle of your service?” Thrax chuckled seeing Ozzie’s pained, desperate look on his face. “That will not do. You wanna pee, you go right ahead and pee here. Don’t stop doing whatever you’re doing until I say so.”

“B-But…the outfit you g-g-gave me w-will…”

“It’s fine. You’re gonna wash it anyway, aren’t you? Now carry on. He’s getting cold.”

So saying, Thrax took Ozzie’s head and directed him back to his cock, forcing the cell to open his mouth and take him in again. With one hand holding back his nucleus, Ozzie tried hard to continue with his blowjob. Feeling that it wasn’t as good as before, Thrax reached over to pinch Ozzie’s chest.
“C’mon, baby. Be serious. Put your back into it.”

Unlike humans, cells don’t exactly have nipples, but they do have a sort inverted concaved membrane on both sides of their chest and that was the area Thrax was teasing, making the cell arch at the touch. With a surprised yelp at the sudden stimulation, Ozzie tried to comply with Thrax’s wishes, but it was still not satisfactory enough for the virus.

“Don’t you dare stop now,” Thrax said as he held onto both sides of Ozzie’s head and made him bob up and down his length. “Like I said, either you can go to the toilet later or you settle it right here, but you are not allowed to walk out on me and leave me hanging.”

Ozzie finally couldn’t hold back anymore. Throwing all sense of decency, he let go of the grip he had on the outfit and relieved himself as he continued to suck and lick Thrax’s rod. Everything he drank from the party till now was finally emptied out of his nucleus, making the cell sighed mentally in relief. Thrax smirked at the way Ozzie looked as if he was finally able to breathe or something. Pushing Ozzie’s mouth off his cock, he pulled at Ozzie until his arms were on his lap before lowering the rest of the outfit until the cell’s buttocks were revealed—but not entirely taking it all off—and spread whatever wetness was on Ozzie’s seat of the pants around his hole.

“We’re not done yet,” Thrax noted. “I’m going to cleanse you properly inside out after what that rat of a cell did to you. I want to make you mine and mine alone.”

With that, he made Ozzie straddle him with the cell’s back facing him and held him firmly by the hips before pushing him down onto his saliva-coated cock, earning a strangled moan from the cell. As usual, Ozzie’s physical structure allowed the cock to slide in quite easily and the initial burn went away as soon as it came. Thanks to Thrax’s massive length, it quickly hit the spot that made Ozzie scream uncontrollably, its ridges rubbing against the inner muscle to stimulate him some more.

“Move your ass, baby,” Thrax said as he thrust slightly upwards into Ozzie. “I can’t do it all by myself, you know.”

Ozzie, against his better judgment, started bobbing his ass up and down, feeling the ridges rubbing within him as his spot was assaulted again and again, making the stars flashing in and out in his mind’s eye in a frenzy. Thrax reached both his hands around Ozzie’s waist to cup the cell’s sac and hold his manhood, massaging and pumping them expertly in time with Ozzie’s rhythm. Trusting Thrax not to castrate him, Ozzie continued slamming down against the virus’ cock, bringing himself closer and closer to the edge despite the fact that in the back of his mind, he was not supposed to let himself go unless his Master said so.

“I’m…I’m c-c-cumming~!!”

Before Thrax could stop him, Ozzie lost himself to the crushing orgasm that hit him like the muscle did when he accidentally blew up the main nerve receptor and cause Frank to get a cramp. String upon string of his seed was released, staining his thighs and Thrax’s hands. The tightening of his inner muscles made the virus lose control as well, but not before he pulled out quickly and shot his seed between the cell’s thighs, mixing with the cell’s own. Both of them panted breathlessly to allow their orgasm to subside before Thrax reached up with a slightly trembling hand to pinch lightly at Ozzie’s cheek.

“You still can’t hold back, can you? I told you, you can’t cum without my…Are you listening to me, Jones?”

Unfortunately he wasn’t. The cell, coupled with the fatigue he already felt during the party and the afterglow of his orgasm, had already leaned back against Thrax’s chest and fell into a deep slumber, snoring away like it was nobody’s business. Thrax wanted to shake him awake to scold him properly, but seeing Ozzie’s serene face, he stopped himself.

“You’re lucky you made me feel good just now. I’ll let you off just this once.”

Wrapping his trench-coat around the cell, Thrax carried Ozzie piggy-back all the way to the guesthouse where they shared with Cox and his family.