Title: Submission.
Category: Soul Calibur
Summary: She belong to him in every possible way... (Dark NightmareXTira)
Rating: M

Just a little drabble for the fangirls of Nightmare who have seen his Player two outfit in Soul Calibur IV (So hawt, I would tap that ;) and lived through the nosebleed to tell the tale XD And also dedicated to Little Lady Kunimitsu! I demand you read her stories now!

Like always, I hardly bothered with spellchecking and stuff

“M-m-master! Please forgive me”

“Not until you have learnt your lesson”

His “breath” if she could even call it that quickened against her ear, surprisingly hot and heated against her flushed skin. The deformed hand stained with the blood of countless thousands gripped her tiny waist with enough force to crack the bones beneath her pale skin. There was nothing to stop him from doing so and she knew it.

But once again, the container of Soul Edge stunned her again with a sudden gentleness that she did not he possessed.

The flesh hand that she had freed from the iron gauntlet had fisted itself in her tangle mess of coffee coloured hair, stroking her skin in a twisted fondness that terrified and excited her on some primal and medieval level.

She still half expected him to fling her off in some twisted rage and allow his blade to simply eat her soul for her incompetence.

The young woman arched her neck as the demon sunk his fangs into the tender flesh of her neck, marking her with his own personal brand. It was so sick and neurotic that Tira found herself begging him in heated whispers to continue. Desires ran rife, smoking the air with the heavy scent of passion and the spicy taste of heat. Sweat trickled down her spine, clinging to the delicate and fine hairs on her back. The room was on fire around them; melting the wax on the artwork around the walls and scorching the tasteful granite statues that lined the room.

Tira lifted her violet eyes to meet his burning red orbs; matching the look of lust and craving reflected in his searing gaze.

She was in trouble and she knew it.

“You are mine”, he hissed dangerously against her neck before bringing what she guessed was his version of a mouth onto hers, biting down with enough force to cause blood to drip down her lips. Tira inhaled sharply and felt her body turn to jelly beneath him. Every fibre cried for him, every thread of her being yearned for him and every whim longed to repent for her error against him. For her failure to destroy the Spirit Sword had cost them greatly and it was a mistake she was dedicated to correcting.

He was inside of her quicker than she could account for and was hard pressed to accommodate him once he had broken down her barriers. With her back arched from his imposing, Tira let out a deep purr that echoed from the pits of the toned stomach. Her hands gripped the carpet with a vicelike grip; tearing the fine thread count to shreds with her clawed fingernails. Irregular breathing settled in her lungs, matching his own though he hardly needed oxygen and simply mimicked the function of her sake.

“You will dance for me little one. Yes you will” Nightmare hissed at her while he shifted inside of her brutally, taking in his victory and dominance over her. The demon wanted her to know that she belonged to him in every aspect, wanted her to feel him and wanted her to accept her place.

Never before had Nightmare been so wild her and she loved every single second despite his promises of pain. Before long, Tira found herself being grounded against the fine carpet, accumulating all sorts of rug burn on every part of her body. The frustration the Soul Edge container felt was clearly coming through between the his occasional hisses of pleasure and his thrusts that left Tira dizzy with her own arousal.

The mouth of Nightmare formed itself into a heated grin when he felt his servant buck beneath him, desperately seeking his surprising warmth. Strong arms held the wiry frame of his slave to the ground though through his passion and lust, he was careful not the press to hard. One wrong move and his slave would be nothing but a bloodstain on the ground beneath him. When she raised her stomach against him to meet his brutal movements, she intentionally awoke the animalistic side of his lust and sin.

For Tira, nothing could have felt better. It pleased her greatly to know that her master was enjoying her and it filled her heart with joy to know that there was a chance he would forgive her. Anything to win his favour was worth doing. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun while she was at it.

For what felt like hours, Tira and Nightmare shared the act that was considered sacred to some and vile to others. As if in a pantomime, both had their own part to play; the way they acted and reacted to the sensations they gave each other through the heated exchanged could not be rivalled by any. They were the Stars of each other’s world and for a fraction of a second; Tira could have sworn she heard his master finally refer to her by her first name.

It was not love, no, Nightmare was simply a personification of Soul Edge. A demon. A harbinger of death.

There could be no love in his heart, only obsession and lust.