This wasn't the first time his face had tasted the dirt. It wasn't going to be the last time, either. The weight on his back had not diminished, nor had the constriction of the weight around his throat. In fact, it seemed to be strengthening- allowing his face to redden underneath it's swarthy tone. His eyes widened, black spots dancing in the corners as he tried to suck in a breath.

Could you die again?

Did the dead need air?

These were questions he knew not the answer to, but felt if the being above him had his will- they'd find out the old fashioned way. The tail around his throat constricted his breathing further, causing a choked cry to fly out of the warrior as cold hands traced their way down his sides and up to his face.

"Your kind has always been a thorn in my side, monkey." The voice hissed softly against his ear. He shivered, not from fear- but from the fact that the breath itself was cold.

Black spikes rested against the ivory tail that was round around his throat, the pointed knee of the petite being behind him keeping him forced to the ground like an insect. The voice continued against his ear as his torso twisted to attempt to free himself.

"I see now my mistakes. However, I am too late to correct them… at least up there." The voice continued, fingertips sliding up into his hair and sliding away the red band around his forehead. They trailed back down to ghost over his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. Finally, they pried his lips open and pressed down on his tongue. Those digits are cold, the nails sharp and bitter against the warm, wet muscle. The warrior wants to gag, but steels himself with a will made of iron.

At least, that's what he wants to present. Inside, he's a mass of fury, of anger, and laced through it is the icy vein of fear. The fingers inside his mouth twist over his tongue, tapping against the muscle as if the being above him were playing an instrument. The ache of his mouth being opened and the resulting dry feel made him salivate, thin strands of clear fluid running down his chin and into the red dirt below.

"He looks exactly like you, funny that." The voice continued after several quiet moments- making the shivering warrior start. The fingers in his mouth removed themselves, beginning to trail down his chin, his throat…pause just over the place his heart had been- the ghost of its beating skyrocketing. They circled the place the organ had been, as if mocking the killing blows that Frieza had bestowed upon more important individuals.

The simple beam through the heart, a mainstay of Freiza's attacks had many names through the galaxy. King breaker it was called, and for apt reasons. It was the personal attack he used to slay monarchs across the galaxy on every planet he came across.

The saiya-jin king had not been unique, only one among many in Frieza's conquests. Just like himself now.

The warrior started again as those fingers finally reached their destination, cold worming it's way around his limp member. A snarl finally breeched its way out of his throat, but the hand continued- and his own found purchase on the ground beneath him.

Pushed up, straining- to throw the abomination off his back.

Only to be pushed back down again- this time with an elbow to the back of his neck, rending him stunned. Frieza leaned over him again- this time stretching out over his back as if using him for some sort of mattress. Those slick fingers never paused in their exploration of him, tracing along the shaft to the base… then just behind.

"Fascinating, even dead…your kind is warm. I wonder just how far that goes." The voice hissed, sly and sibilant against his ear.

The tail had around his throat tightened yet further, cutting off any air whatsoever to his starved lungs. He writhed like a thing possessed, managing to push back onto all fours. The tyrant saw his opportunity, and struck. The saiyajin felt his clothing ripped from him and the icejin suddenly between his thighs. His eyes widened at this, dropping down off of his palms to dig frantically at the band of iron flesh around the swarthy column of muscle.

The tail suddenly loosens, his lungs drawing in a shaky breath of air that makes his entire body shudder. Out of the corner of his bleary vision, he can see the tail snaking back around behind its master.

"Tell me, psychic," The voice returns, the touch of a pointed, cold tongue against the rim of his ear. His body freezes, shuddering at that.

"Did you See this coming?"

The tyrant hunches suddenly, and the former squad commander can do nothing but scream. Even as small as the tyrant is now, with ivory and pink musculature, he is aptly sized and the warrior was deliberately unprepared. He has screamed in pain so very few times in his life, but this seems to be one instance where he cannot stop. Every little movement, every breath is agony as he feels the alien sensation within, coupled with the little mocking laughs against his ear- little breathy insults that seem almost like endearments.

He tries to cover his screams by pressing his face into his arms, but it only serves to help the leverage that Frieza has on him already. He's discovering answers to his own idle questions.

Yes, you still need air in hell.

And… ohgodshowmuchbloodisthat.

He knows something inside had torn, but not to this extent. The amount of blood dribbling down his thighs and smearing across the ones behind him was obscenely beautiful. The first piercing screams had done something to his throat, and now he was only able to grunt brokenly as the tyrant shifted yet again…

And hit something that made him see white.

His head snapped up at that, body tightening down on the invader within- a startled, strangled sound erupting out of his throat. A cruel, yet oddly tender smirk curled the lips above him upwards and the icejin angled differently yet again to hit that spot. The warrior found himself scrabbling at the dirt again for yet a different reason, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

Nononononononono….

But of course, fate had not listened to before and was not about to listen to him now. He felt slim arms come down alongside his- those hips slapping against his with heated friction caused by his skin. His mouth opened of its own accord, strangled, odd yelping sounds burbling out as that place was plundered, pounded, beaten…

A cold hand sliding over him again, this time touching the hardness that is there and the tightening of cold fingers. A quick upward stroke…

…and he comes undone, screaming for a final time into the acrid air of Hell.

The tyrant follows him only moments later- soft, breathy little pants against the rounded curve of his ear. He does not move from within the soldier below, but merely smirks wider as he takes in the panting, broken man. He pushes up with one arm, sliding an ivory hand over the long curve of his spine and wrapping around the one appendage he had deliberately neglected. Lean fingers curl the brown furred tail over his wrist, stroking it against the grain to make the warrior below twitch. He leans over again, lips brushing the warrior's ear.

"Do you understand now, Bar-dock? The sins of the son are paid by the father. I could not break him, but…ah, for you? I have all the time in the world." He smirks as he leans up; jerking the tail up harshly with him to hear that scream he loves the most… that blood-curdling shriek of absolute agony.

"One day, I pray you'll understand. I hold you in the palm of my hands, and I always have. I make kings, I break them. I am your god, and you live or die by my hands."

Bardock twitched under him, shaking harder now and eyes white with agony as he struggles to hear past the pain, dilated pupils fixating on the tyrant above him. He starts as a hand, deceptively gentle- cups his face as the alien nears.

"I can give you pleasure, I can give you pain… and when you learn to love both from me, and then maybe… you will learn what it took Vegeta years to understand. That you are indebted to me."

A lean, a whisper into that ear again.

"You are my creature. All that you are, all that you ever will be… is mine