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Day Three: Negative Reinforcement

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Jason looked at Buck with equal parts disgust and anger, a fiery expression on his face that he wanted to bottle up – photograph it and hang it on his bloody wall so he could remember it years after he broke the man down, ground his soul up into little more than an empty shell of what it was. It would be beautiful, he’d make sure of it. But he wanted a show first and he told Jason as much.

“Get out of the way.” The younger man seethed, both knowing that the only thing that stopped him from killing Buck right there and then was that Keith was locked tight where Jason wouldn’t be able to find him, not on his own at least.

“No, not before I give you a history lesson. Mm? You ready for this?” He baited, “Listen to this now, imagine! Consider, if you will this monumental testament to irony! The bloody Japs, they find a special unit of uh, you know their trying to find lost treasure to feed their bloody empire. But they don’t realize that, this,” he motioned over to the building, barely containing his laughter. “They’re building the bloody thing right over the stuff that they’re fucking looking for! Now come on then, ask me ‘what are they looking for, Buck?’”

“No.” Jason seethed, looking at him with disgust – rejecting Buck with every movement he made. Buck’s eyes lit up in interest for just a moment before he masked it – he liked that petulant defiance that Jason wore so well more than he would ever admit.

“I should cane you for that.” He told Jason with a calm, nearly friendly tone making it seem like it was just an empty threat that he was giving. “I really should, but you know what, I won’t.” A secret smile stretch across his face, “No, I’ll cane Keith instead.” he promised, happy to have a reason to punish his toy for the sins of someone else.



Keith had been getting boring and Buck had never been more disappointed to have broken someone down so quickly. Really, truly, when he had first purchased the boy Buck had been so sure that he had potential. Keith had been so angry, so feisty – he fought and kicked and screamed at Buck until he was blue in the face. He loved it when they had claws, so he could tear them out one by one.

The first few days with the former investment banker had been the most fun of all for him because he finally had someone put up a fight with him right at the start – and he had sported the bruises to prove it too, even if Keith ended up with far more marks and a much quieter disposition at the end of it.

He entered the shack quickly finding Keith just where he expected him to see, on the small ‘bed’ in the corner of it. It wasn’t like there was really anywhere for him to hide – but it wasn’t like he didn’t like to try it anyways, probably in some misguided attempt to avoid whatever form of punishment that Buck wanted to inflict on property at that moment.

Buck squeezed the younger mans’ shoulder, eliciting a slight jump out of him in the process. “How’re you doing, Keith?” He asked, “Did you keep house while I was gone?”

He kept his eyes down and sniffled, like he had been crying just moments before – and Buck was sure that he was, he was always fucking crying these days. He needed to shake things up, or he was going to go crazy from all that whining. “I’m fine.” He replied, voice edged with the evidence of how much crying he had done – all shaky and weak.

Buck grinned full of teeth, “You see that cane over there?” he asked, keeping up the gentle tone in his voice before he motioned over to a dresser, where it sat proudly on top of, right out in the open. It was a thing of beauty that he had crafted himself.

It was thinly carved and made out of reed with a leather handle to ease with holding it. Specks of blood, from previous boys, were splattered all over it. It gave Buck a cozy and warm feeling of nostalgia, every time that he used it on one of the boys he purchased off of Hoyt.

“Yes, I see it.” He replied, voice numb and his affect bland as all hell. He had taken to putting on a brave face again, Buck noticed with pleasure. That was good, he liked that bit of fire and resolve.

“Why don’t you go over there and hand it to me, then?” Buck phrased it like a question, but they both knew that it was an order. It was fucking delightful watching his resolve crack and seeing him break down with a mixture of anger, frustration and despair. “Well go on, you don’t want to make me wait, do you.” He added cruelly, if only to add insult to injury.

His cock twitched from within the tightly bound confines of his shorts as the younger mans’ face contorted into a visage of rage, “Wha- no, but I didn’t, I didn’t even do anything!” He snapped, more tears sliding down his cheeks. “You said you wouldn’t- you said I wouldn’t get hit if I was good! I’ve been good! I’ve been good…”

Buck had waited patiently for him to tire out of his small, fleeting display of defiance. As nice as it was, it wasn’t really what he wanted right then. “Are you done?” Buck mocked him, a smile playing at his lips. “I’ll give you a minute to go and get the cane – like I told you.” He warned him, “Trust me, darl’ you don’t want me to have to go and get it myself.”

With all of his fight drained out of him once again, Keith swallowed his pride and what was left of his defiance down and made his way to get it. The thought of using the cane to strike buck down occurred to him, but he quickly shook it off – knowing that Buck had overpowered him multiple times before, with little or no effort on his part.

Buck was a killer – a real bonafide, contract killer like something out of a bad action film straight out of the 1970s – and Keith might as well have been as weak as a kitten in comparison to him. As humiliating as it was, it was in Keith’s best interest, his best and only option, not to fight back.

The cane landed in Buck’s hand with a slight flicking noise – with the hope that it somehow managed to cause at least a small amount of pain to the bastard in the process. Buck told him to strip down naked and he obeyed with little trouble, he didn’t even put up a fight when he was pressed face first down over an old, rickety table with splinters sticking out of it – poking into his skin painfully.

Buck stood over and behind him, hands roving greedily over the younger mans body – uncaring for the flinching and sobbing. Keith tried to disappear mentally – but it just wasn’t that easy, for a lot of reasons but especially because his tormentor loved to hear himself talk. “You have been good lately,” Buck told him, his fingernails dragging over Keith’s bare spine, eliciting soft and strangled gasps out of him.“I’ll give you that, luv. Strictly speaking this isn’t really your fault.”

Keith’s chest heaved, the longer that he took anticipating the pain – the worse that it got. He wondered if that was a new part of the torture, making him wait until the anxiety for the pain was worse than the pain itself. Whatever it was, it was working – this was excruciating for him.

“Your friend Jason, he’s a little mouthy, isn’t he?” Buck continued on, “Disrespectful little shit.” He growled, punctuating it with a laugh. Keith was about to open his mouth to reply with something along the lines of voicing his surprise that it was Jason that Buck kept running off to see because Buck had never said any names before then and Keith had just assumed that it was Grant.

Just as he did open his mouth up to speak, the cane came down on his lower back, right above his tailbone with a heavy handed, “THWAK!” reverberating about the small shack. Keith felt a sharp pain in his kidneys, shooting up his entire back. He clenched his teeth, not wanting to make more noise in fear of Buck making it worse for him if he cried too much.

“You can thank Jason for this,” Buck laughingly told him, before bringing down the cane once again, slightly below where he hit the first time. It hurt less than the first strike– but it still caused him quite a lot of pain. “You’ll see him later. Soon, hopefully.”

Another strike and then another, bother over the backs of his thighs – right under his ass. “If the fucker stops wasting my time.” He muttered. One, two, three, four more stripes over his ass. Keith’s small bit of resolve broke and he let out a pained moan and a strangled out sob.

Turned out that he was right and as soon as he heard Keith’s sobs, Buck went much harder on him with the cane. To his own disgust, he could feel his erection grinding lewdly against him every now and again. It didn’t take long for him to start crying out with each and every hit – it felt to him like it was never going to end. He was going to die, Buck was going to kill him right there and then.

He lost count of how many times he was struck with the cane, the unpleasant sting and unnatural buzzing feeling soon dulled down into nothing – to the point that the only thing that he could really feel was a dim sort of thudding all over him. He stopped crying. He stopped making any noises.

The only sound that was left in the shack was the unpleasant, “Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!” as Buck beat him tirelessly. Eventually Buck decided that he was done with the younger man and he forced him up to his feet. He dug his fingers into the younger mans jaw and scalp to keep Keith’s mouth open and pliant while he kissed him hard and rough, full of tongue and teeth. Keith lay passive, not resisting the contact but not returning it either.

Keith collapsed onto the dirt ridden floor as soon as he was let go from the kiss. He was overwhelmed with an intense, life ruining pain all over his body. He didn’t bother trying to get up, just curled on the floor in the fetal position. His heart beat in his tightly wound up chest so hard and so quickly that he wondered if it would just break out of his chest right then.

He squeezed his eyes shut, begging for sleep – or for death – while Buck hung above him, leering down at him obnoxiously. Buck looked down at the young man before him with pleasure – Keith looked like a right mess, in all the ways that he liked. His legs, thighs and back were riddled with pink and red colored welts. Some of them were lightly bleeding out onto the floor below him.

It was a pretty sight, Buck thought pleasantly, he’d love to do it again – maybe when Jason brought his knife to him. He would love to break Jason. He’d keep both of them together, at least for a while – maybe he would even make a matching set out of them – he’d just have to wait for him to finally get his knife for him. Once he did, the first thing would do is use it to carve his name into both his and Keith’s pretty skin. Wouldn’t that be nice?