A narrow miss, the second encounter.

Tyrael's head leaned back and he panted heavily, his eyes forced closed from the pain.

Being cut so deeply at such a slow pace had his chest blazing with heat and pain.

He had been snapped, torn and sliced and the man had not even begun yet.

He wondered if the Lycan's torture would end before he lost consciousness from the pain and blood loss.

"Ne vash."
He growled his reply, voice sounding much stronger than his body was.
The earlier use of electricity had left his body drained of energy, his body felt heavy and weak but he would continue to fight.
____________________
Not yours.

He gave a soft chuckle.

Even now the man fought him. The drive in him was far too amusing for him to break.

If anything, he hoped the Elf would keep that fire. It'd be a shame to see it die along with everything else.

He bowed his head to kiss the man deeply, hand trailing down to tug at the button of the man's jeans.

Tyrael's jaw locked as he bit down roughly on Zakhar's tongue, the man had made him bleed, so in return he would bleed also.

His sharp front teeth sliced into his tongue as he held it firmly in place, he was not planning on letting it go anytime soon, with any luck the Lycan would try to tug free and lose the tip of his tongue all together.

His legs kicked up a fuss again, trying to knee the man anywhere he could or push him off of himself.

He gave a surprised little moan when teeth sank into his tongue.

He didn't try to fight. He had learned the hard way that fighting only made your situation worse. If you stayed still, less damage would occur.

He'd keep his tongue still for as long as it took for Tyrael to let go of it.

Zakhar's hips pressed down against the Elf's legs to keep him as still as possible as he tugged down the zipper of the man's jeans.

He continued to bite down on his tongue with increasing pressure.

It was the only chance he would get to do some more damage to the man and he was not in any hurry to lose it.

A growl rumbled in his bleeding chest as his zipper was pulled down, with his arms out of action he was in no position to be able to stop the man, and he knew it.

He could feel the Elf's frustration and it was getting more and more amusing.

Tyrael wanted him to stop so he'd do the opposite.

His hand slid under the man's jeans, massaging him with a low purr.

The teeth clasped around his tongue were getting annoying and somewhat painful but he'd manage it. The man would get bored and let go eventually.

Tyrael's body showed no signs of arousal at all, no matter how much the man massaged him.

He was in pain, and at the mercy of a man he found repulsive, there was no way he was going to get turned on by his advances.

He dug his teeth in harder, grinding them together in an attempt to slice the man's tongue open, ultimately he wanted to cut the section stuck behind his teeth off.

Zakhar gave a low hiss when he felt the Elf's teeth pierce his tongue.

Okay, enough of that. His hand slid out of Ty's jeans to grip his jaw hard. He wasn't willing to lose part of his tongue. Not a chance in Hell.

His eye glared down at the Elf, a dangerous promise of far much more pain than he had planned if he didn't let go of his tongue now.

His nails bit into the skin of his wrist and he gave a low warning growl

Tyrael's eyes narrowed as the wolf glared and growled at him, the man was mad, good because so was the Elf.

He winced as Zakhar's grip got tighter but bit down harder in return, he wanted the wolf to bleed, for his body to be torn open like his was.

More than that if his hands were too busy dealing with his jaw than at least they were away from his crotch.

Zakhar gave another growl.

Fine. If he wouldn't let go while he was conscious, maybe being unconscious would help his lose his grip.

His hand slid downwards, constricting around Tyrael's throat. Cutting off oxygen for long enough would get him to pass out and lose his grip.

If that didn't work he could always beat him around the side of the head and see how he kept up then.

As the hands constricted around his throat he could feel his body being starved of oxygen, the pressure around his neck was almost enough to collapse his windpipe.

The Elf's eyes fluttered shut, his body tensing and becoming still. His jaws unclenched, freeing the Lycan's tongue as his head tilted back.

A low moan escaped his lips as his breath came in struggled gasps. His body betrayed him and became aroused under the man's strangling touch.

Zakhar sucked on his tongue when it was released, brows drawing together.

Okay then, now he had to be careful of the Elf's teeth as well as his hands.

When the Elf moaned, he paused in his mental cursing to stare down at him. Well now, what did we have here? That moan wasn't one of pain.

"Vam nravitsya dushat?" he chuckled, tightening his grip a little before letting his hand go lax. Excellent. He had found something to use against the Elf.

Zakhar grinned widely as his eyes flickered over the roof. "YA dumayu, chto nam nuzhnoizmeneniye mesta provedeniya , ne tak li?" He knew exactly where he wanted to take the Elf.

The Lycan grinned and pushed himself to his feet, gripping tightly to Tyrael's wrist, giving a tug. "Up," he ordered.

_____________________
Do you like being strangled?

I think we need a change of venue, don't you?

He gasped back a moan as the Lycan tightened his grip, laying limp against the ground as his neck was released.

He glared up at Zakhar as he spoke, the man knew something about him that he would have wanted to keep secret.

Tyrael panted on the floor, trying to catch his breath.
"No."
He choked out the word, he hasn't going anywhere with the Lycan.

He tried to pull back against the man's grip, he was beaten and bloody, he knew he was in no fit state the fight back against the man, even if he did get his good arm back.

"All right then."

He had no qualms about dragging the man around. He had given Tyrael the less painful option and he had denied.

Zakhar began strolling towards the door, humming an idle cheery tune as he dragged the Elf along the ground behind him.

"Bumpy ride ahead," he informed as he descended the stairs.

"Arghh..."
He bit back a cry as he tumbled down the stairs behind the Lycan, curling his head in against his cheat to avoid hitting it.

He groaned as he wrist was strained and pulled, the broken joints giving sickening grinds and crunches.

The Elf's blood stained the ground as he was dragged along, it dripped from his carved up chest and torn ear.

The cheery tune continued on as he descended the next two flights of stairs and carried on towards the dungeon.

He ignored the groaning Elf as he pushed open the door to the basement and descended yet another flight of stairs.

"We're here~" he sang as he strolled into the dungeon, still clutching to the Elf's wrist.

How would the Elf react to seeing such a... well stocked dungeon?

By the time they made it there his back was very bruised from beating against the stairs.

His eyes went wide as he gazed around the room, ...no...fuck no.... he scrambled to his feet and pulled against the Lycan's grip as hard as he could.

"No way in hell."
He snarled at the man, his eyes growing darker as they filled with murderous hatred.
Tyrael refused to be the Lycan's sex slave and a room such as this showed the man's intentions in graphic detail.

Zakhar chuckled and tugged sharply on Tyrael's wrist, pulling him flush against his body.

"You have no choice, malenʹkiy elʹf," he purred darkly as his free hand slid up Ty's chest slowly, tracing over the sliced flesh.

"Moy," he purred, pressing harshly against the split flesh. He wanted to hear the man cry out and moan in pain. The sound of his pained cries was like music to him. He loved them.

"What shall we try first?"

Tyrael's body had been through hell at this point, his energy drained from using his powers as well as being cut, torn, broken and bruised by the Lycan.

The pressure against his sliced open chest sent a wave of white hot pain through his body and he cried out in agony, his knees buckled and he fell slightly, only being kept up by the Lycan's grip on his wrist.

At this point his heart was racing in panic, he was so good at containing his fear but now it was exposed as his body was slowly reaching its limits through exhaustion and blood loss.

"Go to hell."
He managed to snarl, despite his body his words and spirit still clung to ther strength.

Zakhar grinned.

He didn't like that plan, did he? Then Zakhar would make the decisions. It was no skin off his back.

His eye trailed over the room until it settled on a St. Andrew's Cross. He'd stick with the more simple things this session. He needed to introduce the man to his way of sex slowly. He was a cruel man but he did have some limits.

If he got hurt too badly because he had things thrown at him that he wasn't ready for, he'd be useless and it'd mean less fun for himself.

The Lycan hummed cheerily as he pulled Tyrael towards the cross, pushing him against it.

Zakhar smiled brightly; the gesture looked odd on a face full of scars.

He began the motions of locking the man into the frame, being somewhat careful with his broken wrist.

The Lycan's lips enclosed around the lobe of the Elf's damaged ear. His tongue passed over he torn skin, bathing it with saliva. If he lost too much blood and passed out, it'd mean less fun for himself. Zakhar was a very selfish being and all his practises were for him and his amusement.

Tyrael thrashed about as best he could as the was locked against the cross, gritting his teeth in frustration.

Of all the equipment in the dungeon he had to place him on one that was made of wood, if he had chosen something with a metal frame he could of made it electrocute the wolf when ever he got too close, but today luck was not on the Elf's side.

"Not as dumb as you look, mutt."

His thrashing stopped when he accidentally tugged on his broken wrist, causing more pain to himself.
He groaned and stilled, glaring at the wolf as he panted.

Tyrael tried to move away from the wolf's mouth on his ear, he didn't want to accept the man's selfish aid despite the fact it was for his own good. But restrained like this he really didn't have much room to move and now the Lycan had use of both his arms.

Once he was sure that the Elf's ear wouldn't be bleeding any more and it'd heal well enough, he pulled back, tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth. Elf blood tasted better than most other blood but, as a Lycan, he didn't have much of a taste for it as a vampire did.

He ducked his head, running his tongue over the cuts on his chest, tracing his name with a purr as he bathed the wound.

"Moy."

As long as the Elf sported his name carved into his flesh, he was his. that was a fact that he'd make sure the Elf remembered. As long as his skin was marred or a bone was broken by Zakhar, he would own him.

His hand slid up, curling around the Elf's neck and constricting. He wanted to know if it was just the surprise of the action that had aroused him previously or if it was the act of strangling him.

He hoped it was the latter.

A repulsed shudder ran through his body as Zakhar's tongue laved over his chest.

"I don't belong to you."
He snarled, the writing on his chest meant nothing to him, he was not claimed, merely vandalised. The marks would fade and the memory of this eventing forgotten, he would have his revenge upon the Lycan though.

Even now his mind raced with a multitude of violent acts which the man would suffer at his hand.

As soon as the hand wrapped around his neck the Elf's body reacted, the delicious burning in his lungs and the aching of his throat set off a chain reaction within him.

His body stilled as his breaths came in struggled pants, a deep moan managing to escape his lips as his pupils dilated and his eyes slid shut.

"So says you."

He had claimed him, he didn't care what the Elf thought of it, he was his. Tyrael would come to the realisation eventually.

Zakhar gave a little grin when the Elf's body reacted. Excellent, it was the act not the surprise that had aroused him. That was excellent for him. It meant he'd be able to get the upper hand whenever he wanted it.

He gave the Elf's jeans a tug, letting them pool around his bound ankles.

When Tyrael realized how his body had reacted to the Lycan's touch he tried against to pull free of the man's grip around his neck, he didn't want this man to be able to evoke that kind of response from him.

His legs pulled against their restraints as his jeans were pulled down, the last thing he wanted was to be exposed like this to the Lycan but there was no way for him to escape this time, even transforming would offer him so salvation bound like this.

His eyes narrowed in a hateful glare as he jerked and snarled in a vain attempt to get free.