Thank you to all the people who have been encouraging me. I was really nervous to start out with on showing off the darker aspects of these two, but you guys have assured me that there are others out there interested in seeing stuff like this explored. Thank you! Enjoy General Shiro's more sadistic side.

Keith hisses. There isn't enough lube, nowhere near enough stretching, for the size of the plug Shiro's pressing inside him, "Relax," Shiro says, rubbing a warm hand along the outside of his chilled thigh. He'd come back from cleaning himself out earlier to find that the General had turned down the room temperature. Without clothes to keep his body heat in, the cold of the air had quickly seeped into his skin.

"I'm trying," Keith pants. He is trying, but his rim has passed the burning of being stretched a little too fast to the actual pain of threatened tearing. The far too dry metal of the plug is catching on his inner walls and pulling them in sharp tugs every time Shiro forces the plug a little further through the tight ring of muscles trying to keep it out.

"You need to try harder, baby. You've taken bigger before." But never with this little prep. Shiro's right, though. No matter what his ass is telling him, he's capable of taking the plug. He focuses in on his breathing. Makes himself even it out from a ragged pant to something more steady. Uses that as a building block other things. Shiro smiles, "There you go," He praises. Shiro pushes harder against the plug, and with a painful raw slide, the biggest part is through. Keith closes up around the neck of the plug, "See, I knew you could do it," Shiro says, running his thumb appreciatively over the still hurting skin of Keith's rim. The burn of being stretched too far too quickly will take time to fade, "You're going to appreciate how tight you are, when it's helping you keep everything in." Shiro leaves Keith lying on his back in the middle of the floor, as he collects something on the other side of the room. Keep everything in? Was that what the little hole in the plug was for?

"What am I keeping in?" Keith asks. He doesn't need to know to take it, but everything is easier to manage when he's not surprised.

"Just a little water," Shiro says, dragging a clear bowl like container on a tall stand. The first thing that strikes Keith, is the container doesn't look likes it's filled with water. An opaque slush, sloshes back and forth in the bowl. Only the bottom third is clearly water. The top is better described as an ice slurry.

The next thing he notices, is how big the bowl is, "I can't take all that," There is easily twice or even three times as much liquid as he uses to clean himself out. His bowels can't hold that much.

"You can," Shiro unwinds a thin tubing from the stand then kneels down to do something between Keith's legs. The plug jostles inside him, "And you will." Shiro's voice leaves no room for argument. He finishes his task, and looks up to meet Keith's wide eyes, "I know how much your body can handle. I have no intentions of breaking you."

He knows how much time Shiro puts into planning these nights. He trusts that Shiro wouldn't ask him to do this if it was dangerous, but he still clings to Shiro's shirt, when he crawls up to give Keith a kiss. For a few moments he's completely safe, encompassed by his lover's arms. Then Shiro's laying him back on ground, and sitting down beside him, petting his hip bone, "Keep clenched down on the plug. If you leak, I'll have to find a better way to seal you up, and that would hurt your poor hole a lot more." He doesn't think he can get any tighter around the plug than he already is, but he squeezes down on it none the less. He won't leak. He'll keep every drop inside, and Shiro will be pleased with him.

Shiro gives him an approving smile and reaches between his legs. There's the sound of a snap, then liquid ice is pouring into his hole. Keith's muscles seize. Spasming then clenching, locked between trying to get away from and trying to push out the freezing water, but his muscles can't win against the pressure of the spout. Gravity's weight forces the cold deep inside in an unabated stream. The chill stings him, touching the hot places he was never prepared for it to touch.

Shiro curls up beside him. Resting his head on Keith's shoulder, and curling a leg between Keith's own. He traces meaningless patterns across Keith's chest. Everywhere his body touches teases at a heat that the water is quickly sapping from Keith's own.

Keith grits his teeth when the cramps start far too soon. Tight knots of muscles protesting being forced to stretch and make room. He lifts his head. Looks up at the bowl and its remaining contents. He's barely taken anything. There is so much more to go, yet some parts of him already scream as if they are being torn open. It's an illusion. Nothing is ripping. No matter how much he feels like something is being pulled apart in sharp bursts of bright pain. There isn't enough inside him for that sort of damage.

Shiro's hand drifts down, resting on Keith's stomach and the jumping muscles that can't accept they have no choice in accepting the rushing water, "Does it hurt baby?" Shiro murmurs.

"Y-yes," Keith says, voice unsteady from the pain or the cold, he can't tell.

"Good." Keith feels the smile against his skin before he sees it. Shiro's head lifting to look up at him. An expression of pure sadistic enjoyment written across his face. He always loves it when Keith doesn't.

He tries to meet Shiro when he kisses him. Even as he begins to shiver, and the aching pressure in his gut continues to build. He kisses back right until Shiro's nail digs into his cold peaked nipple. Then he just cries out, as Shiro eagerly swallows every pain soaked noise directly from his mouth.

Shiro drops Keith's head back to the floor. Straddles his hips, while Keith blinks back the sting in his eyes. It's just pain. Pain doesn't bother him. He can take all the pain in the universe if it would make Shiro happy. All he has to do is remember that this is worth it.

"You're so beautiful like this," Shiro sighs, tracing the muscles in his stomach again, "You make me want to forget all my plans for the night and skip right to the end." Shiro's hand presses down slowly against his gut. Keith whimpers at the building pressure. Bowels cramping harder in protest, "You're already so responsive, I don't want to wait until you're full to rut against your stomach." Shiro eases up and moves his hand down to Keith's soft cock instead, a darkly completive look in his eyes. Keith's nails bite into his palms. It'd be so easy to ask Shiro not to. To wrap his own hand around his dick, and protect himself from what's coming. All the pain in the Universe to make Shiro happy. Keith closes his eyes and keeps his hands to himself, "But then again," Shiro pinches the foreskin, Keith howls, "They are such wonderful plans."

End Note:

This idea has really expanded since I first had it. Was originally a much simpler premise of just seeing how much Keith could hold. Then that idea somehow got split into both Best Laid Plans and this fic. I'm really happy with how both fics turned out though, so I'm not complaining.