What Good Is An Archer That Cannot Hit What he Aims For?

Zakhar stood, eyes closed, letting the breeze dance through his long hair.

Unlike his usual shirt and slacks, Zakhar was in training gear. He wore a skintight black wifebeater and a pair of comfortable black pants. His collar was still attached to his neck but he didn't wear any other jewellery that he was known for. He had taken to wearing a ring in the hole that Tyrael had pierced in his earlobe and he always wore a leather thong around his neck. He didn't wear a watch today.

Instead of his usual lather gloves, he only wore one. A glove with three fingers that attached tightly around his wrist to keep it in place.

A heavy black bow lay in his hands and a quiver of arrows was slung over his shoulder.

His eyes slid open, the dark silver flashing in determination as he notched an arrow and sent it flying.

It hit the carved target on a tree some distance away and the Lycan growled loudly, cursing under his breath. He hadn't hit dead centre. Again.

The Lycan sighed heavily and stalked forwards to retrieve his arrow.

"Chto khoroshego vluchnika , kotoryy ne mozhet yego togo, chto on stremitsya k?" he questioned as he eased the arrow from the tree slowly.
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What good in an archer that cannot his what he aims for?

"Ne khoroshiy dlya ochen', ya by skazal."
Teased the Demon.

As was customary for the Belial he had decided to simply pop in and see what his Slave was doing.

He didn't bother with the courtesy of walking up like he usually did to avoid alarming people, instead he simply appeared, sitting up on a low laying branch with his black denim clad legs crossed over one another.

It was rather warm so he had abandoned his usual over-shirt and opted for simply wearing a dark grey T-shirt, jeans and his usual boots.

A small smirk slowly graced his lips as he leaned up against another branch, sitting rather comfortably on his perch.
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Not good for much, I'd say.

Zakhr snapped around, notching another arrow.

He relaxed and pulled the arrow from the bow when his eyes caught sight of Belial.

The Lycan sighed and slid the arrow back into the quiver, bowing his head a little. "YA ne byl mnogo khoroshego luchnika v posledniye gody."

Ever since he had gone blind, he had found it impossible to shoot like he used to. He had grown better with practise but he could still never shoot exactly on aim like he did once upon a time.

It saddened and annoyed him greatly. He had been an amazing archer in his younger years. Archery helped him calm down when he was annoyed or focus on problems when he had them.

But now it just annoyed and angered him.

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I have not been much of a good archer in recent years

The grin on his lips widened as Zakhar snapped around and went for another arrow, if he couldn't hit a still target properly how did he intend on hitting anyone who lived here?

Though it amused him greatly at how quick Zakhar was to react when he felt threatened.

"Vy zavisite ot vashego zreniya slishkom mnogo, prodolzhatʹ sʺyemku, kak, chto i vy nikogda ne budete udaril yego."

The Demon dropped down from his perch, landing perfectly on his feet as he walked over to the tree that Zakhar had been trying to hit, running his fingers over the engraved target and the hole the arrow had made.

"Prosto potomu, chto vy poteryali ispolʹzovaniyem odnogo glaza ne
yavlyayetsya opravdaniyem dlya ne buduchi v sostoyanii dobitʹsya
uspekha."
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You depend on your eyesight too much, keep shooting like that and you'll never hit it.

Just because you've lost the use of one eye is no excuse for not being able to succeed.

Zakhar's lip twitched into a snarl, eyes turning away from his Master.

He knew that. He knew that he depended on his eyesight. He knew it and he had been trying to work around it.

But he had been blind for such a short time that he hadn't been able to experiment as much as he had liked.

For over seven hundred years he had relied on his sight and it had never led him astray. He had had so little time to get used to not having the sight he had before. In every day matters he had adapted well, but when he needed to concentrate on something, he found it difficult.

"YA znayu, chto ne bylo nikakogo opravdaniya , Master." His tone was low and bitter. He didn't like anyone telling him that he had no excuses when he damn well knew it himself and he had been working on improving for nearly twenty years.

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I know it was no excuse, Master

"Vy nakhoditesʹ v durnom nastroyenii."
He replied, with a undertone was warning in his voice, Zakhar could be pissed off all he wanted but Belial would not accept the Lycan taking his hostilities out on him, unless permitted to do so.

That last little thought has his lips curling up into a grin as he looked back over at the Russian.

"Kak vy poteryayete zreniye?"
He asked, his head tilting slightly out of curiosity.

"YA nadeyusʹ, chto vash slukh v poryadke ?"
He followed up with a second question, Zakhar had given Belial an idea what he wanted to test.
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You're in a foul mood.

How did you lose your eyesight?

I trust that your hearing is fine?

"Ne derʹmo , chto ya v durnom nastroyenii," he snorted. it didn't take a genius to figure that one out.

"YA razozlilsya nepravilʹnyy nekromant." Never underestimate the bad mood of a pregnant woman. Pissing her off had been a life changing mistake that he vowed never to make again. From that point on, he was wary around pregnant women, no matter what species they were.

His hearing? "Dostatochno khorosho. Inogda mne trudno slyshatʹ ot moyey pravoy storone , no eto ochenʹ redko." His girl had really pulled a number on the left side of his face. But only his eye was permanently damaged, thankfully.

Zakhar slid the quiver or arrows from his shoulder, pausing with the quicker half way off his back. What had he just said...? It had taken a few minutes for him to realise that he had just given his Master a sharp remark. His face drained of colour.

He really needed to start thinking before he spoke when he was in a bad mood.

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No shit, I'm in a foul mood

I pissed off the wrong Necromancer

Well enough. Occasionally I have trouble hearing from my right side but that is very rare

His eyes narrowed as Zakhar talked back to him rudely, his expression showed that he was clearly unimpressed, his lips pressing in a flat line, his usual smirk disappearing.

Belial had been more than kind to the Lycan and rarely asked much of him, allowing him to have most of his freedoms, even going as far as saving him from being sold, in return was a bit of respect too much to ask for?

"I've always been a gambling man, nothing quite like the thrill of possible success or defeat, wouldn't you agree?"

The Demon started circling the Lycan slowly, his boots crunching the leaves and twigs beneath his feet.

"You're going to take your bow and close your eyes, if you can hit me with an arrow using nothing but sound then you can avoid harsh punishment for speaking to me in such manner.

If you miss, you've effectively doubled your punishment."
His voice was low and held a threatening tone to it as he continued to walk around the Lycan slowly.

Fuck.

He'd really screwed himself over on that one.

If he shot his Master, he got a punishment. He he didn't shoot his Master he got a worse punishment.

"Fuck me sideways with a rusty chainsaw," he breathed out in a low sigh as he notched his bow with an arrow, eyes sliding shut.

Zakhar relaxed himself a little, listening intently.

He stood listening for nearly ten minutes before he plucked up the courage to let his arrow fly.

It sailed through the air, landing at an angle in the ground. It wasn't anywhere close to Belial. He hadn't attempted anything like that in years. He knew he was going to fail.

Belial breathed out a disappointed sigh as the arrow missed him completely, nothing had better hearing than a Lycan and he had almost expected the man to hit him, or at least graze him, he wasn't even close.

"Well now, that is a shame."

He muttered as he walked over and pulled the arrow out of the ground, shaking his head slightly.

"Follow."
He commanded as he walked back through the forest, heading towards the mansion, Zakhar's foul mood had effective ruined Belial's good mood.

Zakhar cursed mentally.

He hadn't any practise shooting things just from hearing them.

It was like throwing a football player on a basketball course and telling them to shoot a hoop with their eyes closed. They wouldn't be able to do it without some form of practise.

The Lycan swallowed thickly as he followed behind Demon obediently, eyes staring silently at his back as they weaved through the trees.

He definitely needed to work on controlling his temper. Especially around Belial. He couldn't be sarky or cruel with his words around Belial like he could with others. Belial was above him. Belial didn't tolerate his shitty moods.

Belial had been in a fairly good mood the last few days, he and Zakhar had been getting along well but being talked to like that by his supposedly 'obedient' Slave had turned him sour in an instant.

Perhaps he had been too kind to the Lycan, shown him too much mercy and leeway if he thought it was acceptable to speak to him in such a snarky manner.

He led Zakhar down to the basement, it was more equipped than his bedroom for the punishment that he had in mind.

Once they were inside he locked the door behind them and walked to the middle of the room, his arms were crossed against his chest and he turned to face the Lycan.

"Strip."

Zakhar flinched a little when the lock clicked.

He wasn't escaping from this any time soon.

Better face the music.

His eyes fell to the floor as his hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head and tossing it aside. Next he kicked his boots off. Soon after his training pants followed the rest of his clothing to the ground.

Zakhar found training much more comfortable without underwear on so as soon as the pants were over his feet he was bare besides the archery glove and belial's collar.

Belial walked away from the Lycan, heading to the bondage equipment and grabbing a pair of metal handcuffs, this was not going to be pleasant for the Lycan.

Moving over he grabbed Zakhar by his collar dragging him over and cuffing his hands, lifting them above his head and chaining that to one of the hooks on the rafters, tight enough that if his legs gave out his body would only drop an inch or so.

Normally at this point he would be talking to Zakhar, teasing him or warning him but none of that left his mouth tonight, the Demon was annoyed and not inclined to talk at the moment.

He had time, plenty of time to work the Lycan over slowly, and that was exactly what he planned to do, he had been far too kind to the Lycan lately.

Picking up a stock whip from the wall he walked back over to the strung up Lycan, flicking his wrist, causing the whip to hit the ground next to Zakhar's feet forcibly, the loud crack of the leather echoing throughout the room.

Belial flicked his wrist again, this time whipping the Lycan right across the chest, the leather leaving a blazing red mark across his pale skin.

Zakhar didn't fight or utter a protest as Belial bound his wrists together and hokked them to the ceiling.

He was in for a rough time.

Belial didn't tease him, touch him, warn him. He knew that he was in for some rough treatment just from that.

And even knowing that he could feel himself becoming aroused.

Rough treatment was arousing. Whether it was being whipped or beaten half to death. If Zakhar ever cursed being a pain slut, it was now.

Belial would push him out of him comfort zone and go beyond what he was comfortable with. And with how trained he was, that was a lot. Inflicting that much pain on him was dangerous.

And he knew that Belial would do so just to prove his point and make sure that Zakhar knew that he shouldn't talk back to Belial if he didn't want to be punished.

Belial circled the Lycan again, cracking the whip brutally across the Lycan's back, the force of the blow tearing open Zakhar's skin.

He knew Zakhar could handle a lot, being a Lycan meant he could deal with much more and Belial was determine to cause more pain than the Lycan was use to.

He was a spiteful creature and Zakhar had wronged him, but in time he would learn not to talk back like that.
He intended on keeping the Lycan for a long time and pushing the Demon's buttons was bad for his health.

He whipped the man again, the leather leaving another identical mark on his back, his back and shoulders bleeding from the now large weeping X which blazed across his back.

Zakhar jerked as the whip cracked against his back, crying out softly.

His hands didn't clench nor did he start biting his lip. This was torture. It wasn't sexual like the other punishments he had received from the Demon.

This wasn't supposed to be endured like the others. He didn't have to wait it out to get good sex afterwards.

He wasn't expecting sex. He was expecting to be beaten then left here, bound, beaten and bleeding; revealed to anyone that should walk in.

So he would find something to get him through it. He'd find pleasure in it. He wouldn't be embarrassed if people saw him like he was with a mix of his semen and his blood on the floor.

He jerked again when the Demon struck his back again.

Whipping was just a gentle warm up, it was something that Belial enjoyed, it took him back to a joyous time where they would have public lashings in the streets, they were such fun, though of course the humans would scream much louder than he could hope to get Zakhar to so simply.

He continued to hit the wolf, on the back of his thighs, calves, stomach and chest, each hit leaving deep, bleeding gashes on his skin.
Zakhar would heal too quickly for blood loss to become an issue, a small fact about the Lycan that he adored, he wasn't as breakable and he could take a lot more than most could.

The ground was sprayed with specks of the wolf's blood.
A small smile graced the Demon's lips again as he put the whip down, having grown bored of it he headed over to a sink located on the back wall, he grabbed a container and filled it with water before walking back over to the Lycan.

Belial tipped the water over Zakhar's chest, crotch and back, the liquid streaming down his legs and between his cheeks.

The Demon moved to pick up something he was sure the Lycan would not be pleased to see considering his current state, a cow prod.

He switched it on, a small jolt of electricity jumping between the metal prongs.
He touched the metal to the Lycan's stomach, the voltage traveling along the entirety of Zakhar's now wet body.

The whipping was met with low breath cries and moans.

His body was still relaxed and he was very much happy with what was happening. It was painful. Deliciously painful.

He could feel the rivulets of blood running down over his skin.

Zakhar stayed silent as the water was splashed over his skin, running pink as it mixed with his blood and dripped to the floor.

His back arched and le gave a loud cry when the cattle prod met with his wet skin.

The cry wasn't a pained one.

He clicked the prod off and ran it over his skin, trailing it down teasingly over his pelvis, down the curve of his hips and over the length of his member.

He tapped the prod against his balls both threateningly and with promise, he wasn't shocking the man yet but he would and Zakhar wouldn't know where as he continued to stroke the metal tips over the Lycan's most sensitive areas.

The Lycan's cries made his smile widened, they may not have been cries of pain but that didn't matter, he would not be pleasuring the man so these rough touches would be tormenting regardless of whether he enjoyed them or not.

He pressed the prod firmly against Zakhar's upper thigh, dangerously close to his manhood and turned the prod up to the highest setting, giving him a powerful shock that would travel up the length of his body due to the water.

Zakhar gave a soft purr as the cool metal ran over his skin slowly.

He was aroused. The evidence was clear as Belial ran the prod over his member. Did Belial like this? Did he like how painfully aroused Zakhar got when he was torturing him like this? Even though the torture wasn't sexual?

The Lycan's back arched, head tossing back and a loud moan sounding as he was shocked.

His lips parted and he breathed out the word Master softly.

Belial was teasing him with these touches and he knew it. Belial knew how arousing this was for him and he was just going to torture him through it.

His eyes darkened mischievously as Zakhar moaned loudly, he wasn't going to pleasure the man, he would give him no satisfying touches, the man was in trouble and he did not deserve them, but Belial being the sexual deviant that he was could not help but want to torture the man sexually.

Nothing aroused Zakhar more than pain and dirty talk, at that moment the Demon decided to work the Lycan up into a frenzy using both but giving him no satisfaction, that would frustrate and punish the man more than any amount of physical pain.

"Takaya malenʹkaya shlyukha bolʹ."
He purred his words in against the Lycan's ear as the prod pressed up against his member again, traveling up until the metal tips were pressed against the head of his erection.

"Moya malenʹkaya shlyukha boli, neskolʹko resnits i potryaseniy i
smotryat na tebya, zhestkiy rok uzhe i prosto stremleniye bytʹ prinyaty i
ispolʹzovany grubo."

His voice was laced with seduction, that low and husky tone that was full of unspoken promise.
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Such a little pain slut.

My little pain slut, a few lashes and shocks and look at you, rock hard already and simply yearning to be taken and used roughly.

Zakhar swallowed and gave a soft moan.

Damn Belial and his dirty talk.

His tongue lapped out over his lower lip when he felt the prod on the head of his arousal, brushing over the ring still piercing his skin. As much as he hated the circumstances, he quite liked the piercing so he had kept it.

Much the same decision as the other piercings he had.

Taken and used. That sounded good. He liked that idea.

The Lycan's eyes flickered open to search out Belial, lips quirking upwards slightly. Do your worst, he thought, show me how much you can use me. Make me into your little sex toy.

Belial clicked on the prod, sending a strong jolt through the Lycan's member, using his piercing as a conductor to make the voltage that much more powerful.

"Ty byl ochenʹ neposlushnym malʹchikom, govoril so mnoy tak, vozmozhno,
ya dolzhen ispolʹzovatʹ tebya dlya moyego sobstvennogo udovolʹstviya
segodnya ."

His hand traced down the Lycan's spine and in between his cheeks, stroking circles around his entrance.

"YA budu otnositʹsya k sebe , chtoby vashe telo v to vremya ostavlyaya Vas polnostʹyu udovletvoren."

He purred, as this point the electricity was still pulsing through the Lycan's arousal, continuously shocking him as he spoke.

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You were very naughty, talking to me like that, perhaps I should use you for my own pleasure tonight.

I'll treat myself to your body whilst leaving you completely unsatisfied.

Zakhar's head tossed back and he gave a howl, hips jerking away from the cattle prod.

That hurt like blood fucking Hell. And still he found himself aroused.

Zakhar gave a soft moan, breathing heavily when Belial's fingers circled him.

He was fine with Belial using him for his own pleasures. He expected it. He was Belial's Slave, not his lover. Slaves didn't get treated perfectly well. Slaves got used and thrown aside.

He was fine with that, happy about it even.

He was becoming Belial's Slave, well and truly.