MaxStevens

S.P.O.I.L.-ed Twins

"Yes! Winner Winner Chicken Dinner! SUCK IT, Tommy!" Mitch yelled, standing to do his trademark victory dance right in his brother's face. It was the third Mario Kart race in a row that he had beat his younger brother, Tommy. Well, younger was technically correct, but only by about 15 minutes. The boys were actually twins. Their legal names were Mitchell Jr. and Thomas, but the only time they were called that was on the first day of school, and their occasional visits to the Cook County Juvenile Court.

The boys seemed to have a bit of trouble obeying the law. Most of the time it was little things like violating the city wide curfew or cutting school or something. But lately their crimes had become a little more disturbing. The boys weren't really bad kids. They were just spoiled rotten. Their dad was an investment banker, and a good one at that. His income alone was enough to buy the boys pretty much anything they wanted. And when he didn't, they would just throw a tantrum and whine and complain until their mom gave in. She was a real estate agent that worked in some of the most expensive condo and apartment buildings in all of Chicago.

Mitchell Sr. and Angela Collins had worked hard to make sure that none of the boys' misadventures actually landed them in a juvenile detention center. By the year 2056, the juvenile system had become almost as harsh as the adult prison system. And neither parent wanted their 'sweet little boys' to end up behind bars. Truancy was one thing. That was easy to pay a fine and have expunged from their records, but now there were things like 'Kidnapping' and 'Vandalism' to contend with. And technically speaking, their most recent crime had been labeled 'Terrorism'.

Kidnapping, Vandalism, and Terrorism, all at the age of twelve? You must think that these boys were psychopaths or something, but as Mitchell Sr. and Angela would tell you, it was just a series of misunderstandings and the boys being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mitch and Tommy would do almost anything to impress their friends. They knew they could get away with it because of those adorable hazel eyes and those blonde bangs that usually hung down over their foreheads, nearly covering their eyes. Their mom often called them her little cherubs. They may have had just a bit of baby fat on their faces and their bodies, but it just made them all that much more adorable.

So when their group of friends decided it would be fun to prank a younger kid in class on his birthday, of course Mitch and Tommy had been chosen to take the lead. The younger boy lived in their condo building. He was down on one of the lower floors with the less expensive condos because his family wasn't nearly as wealthy as the Collins. But they were still friends. The boys were able to get a copy of his keys from one of the service workers and knew his parents wouldn't be home til at least 6pm. So they thought they would have a little fun with him for 2-3 hours. They got home before him, thanks to their personal driver. Then took the elevator up to the 23rd floor and changed into black outfits and grabbed a couple of ski masks, then back down to the third floor and took their place waiting in his apartment until he got home.

As the younger boy walked in, Mitch tackled him to the ground and Tommy began wrapping him in duct tape. It didn't take long for the boy to look almost completely mummified by the tape, kicking and struggling like crazy, but unable to get free. They had a piece of tape wrapped all the way around his head to keep him quiet and a black pillowcase over his head to keep him blind. The boy was obviously scared and panicked as he was dragged out of his home and taken to the elevator. The twins took it all the way to the top of the building, to the rooftop pool. It was late in the fall and the pool had been emptied, but it made for a fun place to leave their bundled up friend. The rest of the boys in their group of friends stood around the empty pool pointing and laughing at him, especially when the fear led the young boy to wet his pants.

Well, the police didn't think it was as funny when the boy's parents pressed charges. Luckily the twins' parents were able to pay off the judge, since it was getting close to election time. The boys were charged with misdemeanor assault, and forced to apologize to the boy and his parents, but they did not have to serve any time.

Next up on the boys' record was vandalism. Not quite as much to this story. It was just a simple dare. They were dared to spray paint their names on the side of an old abandoned building. Unfortunately, a police officer just happened to pass by at the wrong time and busted the two in the act. Straight off of being re-elected, Judge Thompson let the boys off with a warning, but they were forced to clean the wall.

Now for strike three. It was the Fourth of July weekend and all their friends were showing off the out of state fireworks they were able to get a hold of. Firecrackers, bottle rockets, etc. Nothing too impressive, at least not until the twins showed off what they had managed to buy. It had supposedly came from Mexico. It was simply called the Big Daddy. It was marketed to be a 'Grand Finale in a Box'. Light the fuse and run away as several rockets took off into the air. Well, when you buy illegal fireworks it doesn't always work as described. The lighting the fuse and running away part was a success, but instead of shooting rockets into the air, the box exploded like a small bomb, setting a small portion of the park on fire. No one was injured, but some of the park equipment was destroyed by the fire. The boy's ran straight home, hoping no one would find out, but a video camera caught them in the act, and by now, the cops knew what these two looked like. They knew it wasn't actual terrorism, but the amount of explosives in the box was enough to define it as such.

***

Back to the present, the boys had already been arrested and indicted, but as normal, they weren't taking anything too seriously. They just sat in the living room playing video games while their parents were in the dining room talking to the family lawyer. "It's not good, Mister and Misses Collins. Judge Thompson is out of the country on vacation and Judge Wilson will be presiding. From what what I hear, he is tough on crimes performed by minors. And something as severe as terrorism 3; I'm afraid there is no way to keep them out of Juvie this time," The man in the black suit explained, looking over the court papers.

"Nonsense," Mitchell Sr. said, shaking his head and pulling out his checkbook. "Every judge needs funds to be elected. Just find out how much it will take."

"You don't understand, Mr. Collins. This judge is an idealist. He takes his job seriously and would rather lose an election than see a guilty party unpunished, even if that party is two young boys."

"What can we do?" Angela chimed in. "We can't let our little angels go to jail. They would just be lost without me there to tuck them in at night," the truth was the boys hated their mother tucking them in and giving them kisses before bed. They thought they were too old for that now that they were almost teenagers, but 'she' wouldn't know what to do if they were not home at bedtime. It would break her heart.

"I would say that our best chance is to enroll them in the new reform program. It is only a week long, but is quite severe from what I have heard. But it has to be better than 4-6 years in the detention center. Unfortunately, those are the only two options I think the boys will have."

"Whatever it costs, you get them in that program," Mitchell said, not even thinking twice about it.

***

The next day, the boys were dressed in their best suits and ties and sat next to their parents and the lawyer, with the new judge, Judge Wilson staring down at them. He was definitely completely different than Judge Thompson. The older judge they normally sat in front of was lighthearted and almost always had a smile on his face. A nice fake apology and a look of remorse was all it normally took to get a good ruling in their favor. But this judge hadn't smiled once since he walked into the room. He simply looked over the boys' record and shook his head in disgust. "Kidnapping!?"

"Your honor, that charge was reduced to misdemeanor assault, and the boys apologized," the lawyer argued.

"Yes and within a matter of months, they were degrading public property. And now they have moved on to destroying it and putting others' lives at risk," the judge answered back. "It is obvious that if this continues, these boys will be committing more and more serious crimes. For their own safety and the safety of the general public. I have no choice but to sentence them to juvenile detention until the age of 3;"

"Your honor, excuse the interruption, but the boys and their parents have agreed to the S.P.O.I.L. program as an alternative to the detention center. They will plead guilty and agree to be taken into custody immediately," the lawyer argued before the sentencing was completely announced. "They have even agreed to pay all expenses associated with putting the boys in the program, instead of forcing the public to pay for it through taxes. And their parents will pay for all of the damage done to the local park." That had to be enough to entice the judge. But ultimately, the decision was up to him.

"The state will accept this deal. The boys are to be taken directly to the center from here. Parents may follow and stay for the orientation, but then they must say their goodbyes." And with that, the judge slammed his gavel down and began to pull up the files for the next young criminal to enter.

Mitchell and Angela smiled at the ruling, even the boys still had no idea what they were getting into. "Mitchell, honey 3; and Thomas, you have to go with these men now. You have to go away for a few days to make up for what you did. Don't worry. It is only a few days, and then you will be back at home with us. OK?" Angela said, kneeling down in front of her boys to once again give them a kiss on the cheek. "Please be good. And Mitchell take care of your little brother."

When the boys heard that they were going away, they began to tear up and shake their heads. "But 3; but 3; You said 3; we 3; we wouldn't have to go to jail," Mitch whined, grabbing his father and holding him tight so the guards couldn't take him away.

"It's not jail, buddy. It 3; It's like a school that teaches you to behave better. It will be ok, I promise. It's only five days. You'll be back home before you know it," their father explained, prying the boy's hands from around his legs.

Meanwhile Tommy just stared back and forth between his brother, his parents and the two officers that were approaching with a two pairs of child sized handcuffs. He was just frozen in fear and shock. They had never been in this much serious trouble before. And he knew that if Mitch was scared, he should be too. Even though they were the same age, he always looked up to Mitch. He always seemed to be the braver and stronger of the two. Tommy just tagged along and followed him like a faithful side kick.

As Mitch finally let go of his dad, he turned to look at the approaching men. He didn't want to look like a scared little boy, so he took a deep breath and nodded his head, then put his hands out, surrendering to the guards. Tommy took his brother's lead as usual and put his own hands up. In a matter of seconds, the two were cuffed and being walked out to a police squad car. They were still scared of what was going to happen, but at least they were together.

***

The Reform Center, home to the infamous S.P.O.I.L. program was a short drive away. It was located in the southern suburbs of Chicago, and looked more like a high class school than a prison. The boys were met there by their parents, but didn't really get a chance to speak with them before they were marched to what looked like a small class room. They were sat down in two different desks and their cuffs were clicked onto a waiting lock at the top of the desk. Their parents were allowed to watch from next door through a one-way window as a young man walked into the room and took her spot at the front.

"Hello, my name is Mr. Marcus. Welcome to the S.P.O.I.L. program. I will be your personal case worker while you are here. I will be responsible for your instruction as well as any training or discipline you need along the way. You will spend the next five days learning each of the aspects of being truly 'S.P.O.I.L.'-ed young men." As the man spoke these words, an image began to appear on the screen behind him, explaining what S.P.O.I.L. meant.

S - Sharing
P - Polite
O - Obedient
I - Industrious
L - Loving

Mitch couldn't help but crack a smile. Maybe this was going to be easy. He even looked at Tommy and gave him a wink. The boys could pretend to be good for a couple of days and be back home in no time. He couldn't believe that the judge went for this instead of actually sending them to Juvie.

Whether Marcus caught the wink or not, he seemed to go on with his preprogrammed speech, not really caring if the boys were giving their full attention. "Each day you will learn a new part of S.P.O.I.L. If you learn them quickly and truly show that you have, then your stay here will be somewhat pleasant. If not, you will not enjoy your time here. At this time, I will not be answering any questions. I am just here to introduce you to the program. Next you will get a quick physical and then you will be shown to your room. I hope you are both truly ready to change, because your new S.P.O.I.L.-ed life begins now."

With that he turned towards the window and smiled. "Mr. and Mrs. Collins, some one will be with you shortly to explain a few more things you will need to know. But for now, Thomas and Mitchell will need to say goodbye." He looked back at the boys and nodded towards them as if telling them that it was their turn to talk.

"See ya later, mom and dad. See you in a few days!" Mitch said, trying to hide the smug smile on his face. If he wanted to fool these people, he had to at least pretend he was taking it seriously.

"Bye mom and dad. Love you!" Tommy added. He wasn't sure if he was as confident as Mitch. There was something about all of this that seemed 'too' easy to him. He knew there had to be something they weren't telling them. What he lacked in strength and courage, he more than made up for with intelligence. He was a smart kid and not as easily fooled as Mitch.

***

The next hour or so seemed pretty normal. They were led to a small medical room, not unlike the nurse's station at their school. They were each asked to sit up on an examination table, where their cuffs were removed and two men helped them undress, as a third gentleman wearing a white jacket began to check things like their blood pressure, temperature, and heart rate. He checked their eyes. Tested their ears. Checked their reflexes, and even felt around their young cock and balls, just to make sure they seemed healthy. He acted completely professional the whole time, making notes and eventually announcing each boy to be in good health and able to proceed with the program.

Once the check-up was complete, each boy was given a plain grey jumpsuit to wear and allowed to dress themselves under the watchful eye of the two guards, the doctor, and Marcus. After they were both dressed, the guards refastened their handcuffs, only this time, they were restrained with their arms behind their back.

Neither boy thought too much about this until the saw the doctor moving towards them with two small green injectors in his hand. At least medicine had advanced enough in the last few decades, that injections were pretty much painless. No more needles, they just pushed an injector against your skin and the medicine was pushed through the pores in your skin with no pain. But still, for two twelve year olds already in an uncertain environment, seeing the injectors was a little scary. "What the fuck are those for?!" Mitch asked, trying to back away from them on his own little exam table. Of course, seeing his older brother's fear Tommy began to back away himself.

"Oh this?" The doctor said, looking at the devices in his hand. "This is just to help you relax so the program can begin," he explained, quickly jabbing the older boy's neck with the first injector, since he couldn't back away any further and had his hands restrained so he couldn't exactly block the attack. The drug's effect was almost instantaneous. The boy began to feel dizzy and weak and within 30 seconds, he had slumped down to one side and passed out right there, right in front of his brother.

Now Tommy was really scared of what was in the injector and put up a little more fight, trying to dodge the device, so it didn't touch the skin. But it wasn't hard at all for one of the guards to grab the boy and hold him still so the doctor could finish his work. Another quick poke with the tip of the device, and the drug made it into the younger twin's system, and 30 seconds later, both boys were out.

***

The next thing Mitch and Tommy saw was the inside of the small room they would be staying in for the next five days. It was nothing special. It was just two small beds, just large enough for them to lay on, but almost no room to roll over or stretch out on. In between the two beds, on the wall was a long metal shelf with nothing on it at the moment. It did have a padded edge, so they couldn't run into it and hurt themselves, but that was all. The floor and the other three walls were bare. Just cold metal below, to the sides, and even above them. The only other thing that stood out in the wall was the single door on the wall across from the shelf. It looked to be made out of a thick metal with secure hinges and some sort of lock holding it closed. There was a small fingerprint scanner to the left of the door, but nothing else. No sink, no toilet, no TV or games, not even a light switch. This was definitely made to be a boring room.

Mitch was the first to awaken. He was still dizzy and too weak to stand up for a while, so he just slowly moved his head around to take in the room. When he realized that wasn't going to keep him occupied for long, he tried to wake Tommy up by calling out his name. The younger boy may have only passed out a minute or two after his brother, but thanks to his lighter weight and weaker muscles, the drug seemed to have a slightly more powerful effect on him. Mitch sighed and slowly tried to get up from the bed. His curiosity was killing him. He had to check the door, even though his logic told him that it must be locked.

As he stood, he noticed something different about his attire. He still wore the same tight fitting grey jumpsuit he had been given in the doctor's office, but there was something new around his neck. He reached up to feel it, and was able to determine that there was a lightweight metal collar encircling his neck entirely. The strange part was that there was seemingly no seam, crack, or opening of any kind all the way around it. It fit so tightly to his neck that there was no way it was put on over his head, but he didn't feel any other way it could have been put on. He decided to see if Tommy had one, so he could get a better look, and sure enough, his brother had an identical collar around his own neck.

"Tommy! Wake up!" he yelled, shaking the boy and nearly knocking him off onto the floor. Mitch sighed again and began to move the collar around on Tommy's neck. It was just as tight as his own was, and also showed no sign of separation. "What the Fuc-ARGH!" Before the word was even completely out of Mitch's mouth he felt a sharp pain throughout his entire body. It seemed to all radiate from the metal ring around his neck, which made the boy reflexively reach up to tug at the collar. "That hurt 3; Son of a Bi-AAA! STOP IT!" he screamed, not even sure who he was screaming at.

Finally, the boy's screams were enough to wake Tommy from his drug induced sleep. "Mitch?" he said, seeing that his older brother was obviously distressed about something. The older twin was still tugging at the collar around his neck, frantically trying to break whatever was holding it on there.

"Tommy! They put collars on us. And the shock us for no Fu-AAAh!" Mitch may have thought the shocks were random, but it was only certain words that it responded to. It had technology built in to identify the tone of the voice and the beginning sound of a list of 'impolite language' as Marcus would soon explain to the boys. Mitch may have been slow to pick up on this because those words were everyday dialogue for him, but Tommy didn't use them nearly as often and caught on almost immediately.

"Don't cuss, Mitch," he said, almost as if it should be obvious. "It shocked you because you tried to say the F-word." It was just a guess, but the younger boy did pay attention enough during the initial presentation to notice Polite on the list of S.P.O.I.L. words, and he was smart enough to put two and two together when he saw Mitch get the shock as he was saying it.

"Very good, Thomas," the boys both turned towards the door as it swooshed open and let Mr. Marcus enter. "You are already well on your way in this program and you just woke up," he exclaimed, bringing in a small metal chair with him. He unfolded the chair and took a seat just inside the room as the door closed behind him. "Cursing is not tolerated during this program. Politeness is one of the fundamental parts of S.P.O.I.L. But that does not just mean cursing. What else is considered polite langua-"

"Listen, Mister, you can't just -AAAAa! Son of a Bi-AckRGH!" Mitch tried to interrupt and earned another couple of shocks for his trouble. The first one had been manually administered by the man himself, since interrupting was definitely not polite. The second was automatic, for once again beginning to curse.

Tommy felt a little bad for Mitch, but he had always been a much quicker learner than his brother and was somewhat of a teacher's pet, so since Mitch was still recovering, Tommy answered the man's question. "Well, not interrupting, for one 3; right?" he said, giving Marcus a polite smile, then turning towards Mitch to give him his patented know-it-all grin.

"That's correct, Thomas. Not interrupting, but you actually forgot something," Marcus announced tapping the screen of the tablet he was carrying in his hand. This time Tommy got a taste of the punishment as his own collar ignited his own small body with pain.

"OOOW! What 3; what was that for?" Tommy yelled, reaching up to grasp his own collar. Mitch couldn't help but grin when he saw his brother taking a punishment for a change. The boys loved each other and cared for one another, but there was always a healthy sibling rivalry between the two. And since Tommy seemed to be smiling about his punishment mere seconds ago, it was only right that Mitch enjoy seeing his brother in pain just the same.

"You forgot that when speaking to an adult or any authority figure, it is polite to address them as sir or maam," Marcus answered. "While you are here that will be the expectations. No vulgar, impolite language. No interrupting. And only addressing adults with the proper title. Any time you fail these simple rules of politeness you will receive a shock. And right now, both of your collars are on the low settings. If you manage to obey these simple rules, they will remain that way. But for now on, each time you fail to do so, the level will increase, until a single utterance of forbidden language will be enough to render your entire body immobile for several minutes because of the pain you will be feeling. Do you understand?"

Mitch wanted to answer by telling the man where he could shove his collars, but he managed to keep his mouth shut until Tommy answered. And this time he decided to follow his brother's lead instead of getting another punishment already. "Yes, sir!" Tommy said. Mitch echoed his brother's words a couple of seconds later.

"Good. Consider this your first lesson. Now, I am going to give you guys a few minutes alone to get acquainted with your new room, then I will return to bring you your dinner. Until then, remember 3; If you want to be S.P.O.I.L.-ed 3; Be Polite!" he said it in the cheesiest of voices as he pressed his thumb against the reader and allowed the door to woosh open. A second later, it wooshed closed again and left the two boys alone.

The boys stood there and just stared at each other in silence for a few moments. This was the first time either had ever been in a situation this much like jail. Of course, Mitch eventually went to try the door, but there wasn't even a way available to try and open it besides the finger scanner. He tried to just put his hands on it and slide it open by force, but it proved impossible. "Son of a 3;" This time he managed to stop himself before swearing again, still feeling a bit of pain in his neck left over from the last five shocks he received. "SO now what? We just lay around all day and do nothing?!" he whined, walking over to kick one of the small beds. "That's a pretty boring way to spend one of the last weeks of summer vacation."

While Mitch was at the door, Tommy decided just to sit on his own bed. There wasn't much else to do. "I guess 3; but hey, it could be worse. That judge said that if we didn't do this, we would be in Juvie for at least four years. I would much rather just have a week. We just have to be good for a few days and then we are out of here. OK? And maybe 3;" he paused for a second, not wanting to sound like a chicken or the lamer of the two brothers, but also not wanting to go through all of this again. " 3; Maybe we should cut out the pranks and stuff. I mean 3; I would much rather be at home playing video games than stuck in here for a week."

By now Mitch had decided to sit himself, and even though he really enjoyed being the cool kid that could do whatever he want and get away with it, he had to agree with Tommy. Maybe they should stop with some of their hijinx. "Yeah. I guess you're right. And besides, this probably won't be too bad. They have to at least feed us and stuff, and as long as we do our best at acting 3; S.P.O.I.L.-ed," he said using Marcus's cheesy voice from before, "then they probably won't be nearly as mean or whatever. We might as well get a nice nap, that way we won't be in an (air quotes) "impolite" attitude later."

Tommy laughed at Mitch's mocking tone, but agreed that a nap would probably calm their nerves and make for the rest of the day being somewhat smooth. He stretched out as best as he could on the small bed and tried to rest. It was not a comfortable bed by any means. It was a lot smaller than his normal full sized bed at home, and had almost no cushioning. He could feel the metal grid underneath of the mattress. It almost felt like he was laying directly on the metal itself. But eventually he got used to it and managed to get a short sleep, as did Mitch.

***

The first evening did go by pretty normally. Marcus came back in about an hour and explained a few more rules about their stay. They would be expected to go to the bathroom only during certain scheduled times. If they were unable to hold it, or if for any reason a punishment was taking place during those times, they would be forced to wear diapers and to use them for at least 24 hours with no breaks. Both boys shuddered at the thought, but they assured themselves that they would not earn a punishment and that they would be able to hold it during the day, at least until the scheduled times.

Marcus also explained that each day would have a training session where they would learn a new element of S.P.O.I.L. And that it was important to pay attention and do their best during these times, because if they didn't, it would earn them a punishment. The boys simply nodded to this, promising that they would try their hardest (or at least make it look like they were.)

They were told that there were three meals a day, and sometimes even a bedtime snack, if it was earned by good behavior. Most meals would be eaten in the cafeteria with other boys, since the girls were being held at another facility. If they were being punished, they would eat in their room or wherever the punishment was taking place.

Finally, they were reminded that they were to speak politely to anyone and everyone they met who was an adult. And even when conversing with other boys, they were not to use cuss words or say anything negative about the adults. He explained that the facility was monitored by cameras everywhere and that the collar had its own mic and could pick up any of their conversations at any time.

Again, the boys politely agreed to all of these terms, putting on the best fake polite faces and attitudes that they could.

"Today's lesson was obviously about being polite, the P in S.P.O.I.L. Since this is the first day, you won't have an actual training session. Instead, you will be judged on how polite you manage to be since the time the collars were placed on you. So far, Mitch has been impolite a total of five times: four for cussing, and one for interrupting an adult. Tommy: Only once, for forgetting how to politely refer to me. Besides the painful shocks you have experienced, you will also one receive one small punishment for each negative point you earn throughout the rest of the day. The punishments will be given out just before bed. Do you both understand? Oh, and this will be the case each day you are here. Politeness is probably one of the biggest characteristics we want you to learn. We probably should have made it the first letter, but POILS doesn't have the same ring to it," Marcus said in a calm voice that sounded more like a teacher than a prison guard. He even laughed a bit at the end as if it was a joke, but he did keep the same serious face throughout the 'lesson'.

Both boys swallowed hard as they heard the rules for the remainder of the day, and the rest of the week. But after a second to process it they answered simultaneously with a polite, "Yes, sir." How hard could it really be to say 'sir' all the time and stop from cussing. Tommy rarely cussed anyway. Mitch, on the other hand, had been using the words as part of his daily vocabulary since he was about eight years old. He was already worried about the five punishments he had earned so far. And somehow, he knew that there would be more as the day went on. At least they didn't have to sit through a long class or anything. They assumed that's what a training session was and they were both glad that that portion had been skipped today.

***

After all the rules were explained, Marcus opened the door and ushered the boy's out to the hall. "It is five thirty, time for your evening bathroom break, then on to dinner," he announced, letting the boys leave first, so he could keep an eye on them while they were walked to the bathroom. It was a somewhat long walk.

They passed by several other cell doors, all closed. They were a bit too short to see if they were occupied or not. The only window on the doors was all the way near the top. It looked like you needed to be at least 5ft 6in [1.70 m] to see through them. And both of the boys measured just a little over 4ft 6in [1.35 m]. They were short for their age, and if it wasn't for the little bit of extra baby fat, then they probably would have been considerably underweight for their age as well.

As they neared the bathrooms they began to notice more boys in the hall. Each were in groups, ranging from two, like the twins, all the way up to six. Each group of boys had their own guard, or case worker, as they preferred to be called, with them. Marcus explained that they were now in the common area. The bathrooms, cafeteria, nurse's station, and playroom were all housed in this area. The training and punishment rooms were on the other side of the building. The boys couldn't help but tremble at the sound of 'punishment room', but for now, they remained silent and just nodded as Marcus gave the tour.

They were a bit shocked as they reached the actual bathrooms. There were three separate rooms, all along one side of a hallway. As they passed the first two, they were clearly able to see that they appeared almost identical to the third one, which they were ushered into. Inside the room is what almost looked like another hallway. It was about eight feet [2 m] wide, and probably more than 30 feet [10 m] long. On one side was over a dozen toilets, shorter in size like one might see in an elementary school. On the other side was just as many shower heads attached to the wall. There were no stalls, no doors, and obviously no privacy, as the boys noticed Marcus walked in right behind them and stood at the entrance, waiting for them to go in to take care of any business they might have.

There were four sinks on either side of the entrance, and the boys could see that there were four more sinks and two more 'workers' at the other end. There were six other boys in the room currently sitting on the toilet and one boy completely naked at the far end, being showered off. He was pretty far away, but from where Tommy and Mitch were standing, it was pretty clear that the water showering down on him must have been cold. The boy was shivering badly and tried not to stay under the stream any more than he had to. The twins felt sorry for him, even though Mitch couldn't help but grin at the boy. It seemed like a trick he might play on a friend of his while they were at his house or something. Wait til they got in the shower, then turn off the hot water heater.

After a moment to get used to their surroundings, the boys did each eventually find a toilet and even though it was a bit difficult with Marcus staring at them, they did manage to take a quick pee, before pulling the tight fitting gray pants back up and walking back to the sinks to wash their hands. Once they got about three feet [1 m] from the toilet, though, both of them reached up to their necks and let out a short scream, which echoed all the way down the bathroom's hard tiled walls. "Boys 3; you must know it's impolite not to flush," Marcus said with a grin from the entrance way. His voice carried all the way down the room, too, causing the kids at the other end to turn and smile at the two new boys. They weren't impolite enough to laugh out loud, though. Not in front of their workers.

The shocks that came from the collars were a bit stronger than the first ones they had received earlier. Evidently, he wasn't lying about the power level increasing each time from now on. The boys returned to the toilets and flushed, then made their way to the sinks to wash their hands. They both looked upset by the shock, but said nothing as they were led out of the room and down the remainder of the outside hallway, to the cafeteria.

Their dinner in the cafeteria went pretty normally. They received their bland and disgusting looking food from the line and were sat at table with the same six boys they had seen in the bathroom. After talking for a while, they found out that they were all in the junior group. It was the second of four groups that were sorted by age and size. The youngest of the boys had their own separate facility. That was for kids that were mostly in elementary school. The Junior groups was the smallest group in this facility. 10-13 year olds, or older kids who were under 5ft [1.50 m. They used the third bathroom and usually received the earlier meals. The other boys also explained that you had to eat all the food or you received a shock and punishment for being impolite to the cooks.

Mitch asked the youngest of the boys why he had to be showered before dinner. He explained that he hadn't been able to hold in his pee since the earlier bathroom break. He looked a little teary eyed, and didn't say much more for the rest of the meal. One of his bunk mates leaned over and whispered, "That means after dinner, he has to wear a diaper 3; and he won't get out until dinner time tomorrow." Tommy and Mitch opened their eyes wide when they heard that and looked back at the ten year old, genuinely feeling sorry for him now. They changed the topic and asked about why the other boys were there. They had similar stories to Mitch's and Tommy's, nothing too bad, but definitely enough to earn them a place in this program.

***

After dinner, the boys were all allowed a bit of time in the playroom. It wasn't too bad, but not what they were used to. There was a TV, but it only played movies that were chosen by the social workers, mostly after-school special type movies that taught lessons about Sharing and being Polite and garbage like that. There were a few board games, coloring books, and handheld video games back from the turn of the century, but nothing all that interesting. Mitch and Tommy mostly sat by themselves and played Battleship until the 45 minutes of 'playtime' was over. Then they were led back to their cell.

At 9pm, Marcus returned to give them their bedtime bathroom break. It went pretty smoothly, then back to the cell again. "It is after nine, which means it is bedtime. As promised, you will receive a punishment equal to the amount of negative points you have received. Mitch: You ended up with a total ten. We are definitely going to have to work on your manners. You will receive ten lashes and experience medium bed restraint," Marcus explained, as if the boys knew what that was. "Tommy, you did much better than your brother, but still need to be a little more careful. You have a total of three. Which means three lashes and low level bed restraint tonight."

The boys looked at each other with a bit of fear in their eyes, but mostly confusion. Neither wanted to speak up and ask for a more detailed explanation of what lashes and restraint was. They just stood there and took calming breaths, trying to just accept the punishment as men. Meanwhile Marcus walked out into the hall for just a moment and was going through the large locker just outside the door. When he re-entered the room, he was carrying what looked like chains and leather. He told both boys to stand in front of their beds, which they did. He then tossed several items on each of their beds.

Tommy just stood as if he was in the army, legs together, eyes forward, not even wanting to see what Marcus was up to. Mitch, on the other hand was a little more curious. He turned and watched as Marcus attached short chains to each corner of his own bed and then attached leather cuffs to each of the chains. There was also a longer cuff at the head of the bed, which Mitch realized was probably going to be used around his neck. The bed was uncomfortable enough. He did not look forward to being bound to it. He noticed that the chains being attached to Tommy's bed were a little longer, and he only attached two to the top corners. He guessed that Tommy only had to have his hands cuffed and would at least have enough slack to turn to his side and maybe even back.

"Tommy, you're first," Marcus announced, picking up the last item he had carried in with him. It was something that neither boy had ever seen before. It was a device with a metal handle, about the size of a hammer. But instead of a hammer head at the top. It had three two foot long black pieces of leather, almost like three portions of a belt had been cut off. Neither their father or mother had ever used a paddle or belt on the boys. They had received a few open-hand spankings before, but at the age of 12, they pretty much laughed them off.

"Turn around, lean your body over your bed, and lower your pants and underwear," the man ordered, but when Tommy saw the whipping device in Marcus's hand, he couldn't move. He was frozen in fear. He knew that thing was going to hurt worse than his father's hand. He stood there shaking his head back and forth only an inch or two, as if even his neck was frozen.

"Please, sir 3; I 3; I 3; I'm sorry. I won't be impolite again. Ple-" The boy began to beg, but it was cut short by another shock from his collar. This time he didn't even scream. He just tensed up his entire body, including his vocal chords, then took in a big gasp of air as the shock stopped. He was crying silently now, but didn't say another word or make a sound. He just turned quickly and pulled his pants and underwear down and leaned forward over the bed.

"And now you get four," Marcus said as if it should have been obvious to the boy. Mitch gritted his teeth and bawled his hands up into fist as if he was about to jump into action to defend his brother. No one was allowed to hurt him or make him cry except for his older brother. But as big and brave as Mitch wanted to be, he was still terrified. He had more than twice as much punishment to receive in just a moment, and he didn't want to make it any worse. Unfortunately, he just had to sit there and watch as this happened.

Neither boy made a sound as Mitch watched the device pulled back and Tommy simply braced for impact. "THWACK!" It was so loud that it seemed to vibrate off the metallic walls and then into the boys' ears. There was a short moment of silence, then the deafening scream of the younger of the two twins. Already, there were three red stripes appearing on his naked buns. The scream only lasted a moment, then the sobbing began. Tommy had never experienced a pain like that before, and he and Mitch would get into fights all the time, trying to make the other cry 'uncle'. But this hurt more than any wedgie, Indian rug burn, noogie, or anything Mitch had ever been able to come up with. One alone would be more than enough for Tommy to cry for mercy, but he still had three more to go.

Marcus gave the boy a few seconds to calm down, then explained the rules for lashes. "Everytime you receive a lash, I expect you to count it out loud for me. You should call out 'one, sir' after your first one, then 'two, sir' and so on. Understand?"

Tommy tried to control his breathing for a moment and nodded. "Yes 3; yes, sir. One 3; sir," he managed to choke out, already trying to prepare for the next one.

"THWACK!" Almost as soon as the 'one, sir' had come out of Tommy, the next blow came down. Again there was a short scream, then a deep breath, then the boy continued the counting. "Two, sir!" he said between two sobs. Then another 3;

"THWACK!"

"THREE, SIR!" Tommy was screaming at this point as he counted, just trying to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"THWACK!"

"FOUR! SIR!" Tommy let his legs go limp and just fell into the bed at this point, not even bothering to pull his pants back up. He wiggled his way forward until his face was in the pillow and just sobbed loudly, letting the cushioning absorb most of his volume and his tears.

"Your turn," Marcus said, turning to the older boy, who was more concerned for Tommy right now than he was himself.

"Sir, can 3; can I check on him first, please?" he asked, looking completely as genuine as he could. He may have had a tough exterior, but he really did care for Tommy and honestly hoped that the man would at least let him hug his brother and promise everything would be okay before he was beaten and locked in his bed.

Marcus even showed his own soft side as he nodded to Mitch and motioned for him to go to Tommy. It was a pretty sweet scene between the two boys as Mitch lifted Tommy's head and wrapped his arms around the other boy's shoulders. "It's ok, bro. Just calm down. Tomorrow we will be better, so neither of us needs a spanking, alright?" Tommy managed to get a few breaths in and did stop the wailing, but it took a while for his tears to dry completely. Mitch even helped the other boy to pull his pants up over his reddened butt cheeks. Then he sighed and took his place back in front of his own bed. "Thank you, sir," he said, once again being copletely genuine with the man.

"Now then. You know the rules?" Marcus asked.

Mitch nodded, turned around and dropped his own lower dressing. "Yes, sir," he muttered, trying to prep himself for what he knew was coming.

Mitch handled the whippings a little better than Tommy, but was in tears and screaming by the end, just like his brother. He did manage to pull his own pants up before jumping into his bed and laying on his belly, waiting for the pain to go away. He wasn't crying as loudly as Tommy, but he was definitely in as much pain, if not more so. He hoped that the man would allow him to be locked down on his belly like this, but as he watched Marcus moved over to Tommy and carefully flipped him onto his back, he knew that it was unlikely.

Marcus attached the cuffs to Tommy's wrists and made sure they were tight and secure, but not uncomfortably so. He even tugged on each of the chains to make sure they were secure. Then he made his way over to Mitch and helped him to roll over, too. Mitch cringed in pain as his bottom rubbed against the thin mattress. He could feel the metal grid under it, too. And now it was pure torture on his already tormented ass. He let out a small whimper of pain, but just tried to ignore Marcus as he went to work, attaching the cuffs around the boy's ankles. He forced Mitch's legs as far apart as the small bed allowed, and then tightened the cuffs on him. It was a bit tighter than Tommy's but would still allow for circulation. The same was done for Mitch's wrists, making it so they couldn't even reach the boy's head from their locked position. Then finally he tightened the collar, forcing Mitch to be stretched to the bed, so he could barely wiggle at all.

Just as Marcus was finishing up, Mitch realized something. This was 'medium'. He couldn't imagine what the 'high level restraint' could be. He couldn't move more than a few inches now. How much worse could it get?

After both boys were secure, Marcus made his way back to the cell door and smiled just before turning off the lights. "Good night, boys. See you bright and early in the morning. Bathrooms, Breakfast, then your first real day of training begins," he announced, then the lights went off, the door opened, then closed, and it was silent except for both boys' sniffles and heavy breathing.

"Good 3; good night, Mitch," Tommy whispered, only barely loud enough for the older boy to hear over his own sniffles. "Only 3; only four more days 3; right, bro?"

"Yeah 3;" Mitchell whispered back. "We can do it. We just 3; have to be good. Now 3; now get some sleep. Love you, buddy."

It was hard for either boy to get to sleep. Neither of them really felt like talking much after Marcus left. They just remained quiet and tried to take the man's advice and get some sleep. But even Tommy, in his light bondage tossed and turned most of the night. The boys were used to full sized beds on very comfortable mattresses and plenty of covers and multiple pillows. And as much as they would both disagree whole-heartedly 3; they did miss their mom tucking them in, giving them a kiss on their forehead and telling them goodnight. Tonight was a stark contrast to those nights at home. They were not given any covers, they had a single pillow that went flat as soon as their head laid on it, and the room was kept at a low temperature just to make things that much more uncomfortable. The boys couldn't even curl up to keep themselves warm thanks to the chains at their wrists and Mitch's chains at his ankles. But at some point, probably around 1am, they did both eventually fall asleep.

Morning came way too early for them, the lights in the room and hallway came on at 7am. The boys managed to stay asleep for another hour or so, but Marcus was at the door by 8am to get them ready for breakfast. He said both boys' names loudly enough to snap them out of their uncomfortable slumber. "MITCHELL, THOMAS, TIME TO WAKE!" he shouted, moving straight to the younger boy to remove his wrist restraints. "Stand in front of your bed, and do not move," he ordered after unbuckling the leather straps and moving them aside, so the boy would free to obey the simple command.

Tommy rubbed his eyes as soon as he was able to, then did as he was told, using a sleepy voice to respond to the man's orders. "Yes, sir," he practically whispered, pulling himself up to his feet and walking the short distance to the front of his bed. He stood there and stretched out and even grunted to himself, turning his head to watch as his brother was released and ordered to stand at the foot of his own bed.

Mitch was a little slower to move, but he did not want to give the man any reason to add any punishments today. It was more so for Tommy's sake than his own. He had hated making his brother watch what he considered to be a brutal beating the night before. And maybe if they were both unbound tonight, they could share a bed to help each other relax and calm down. Whatever the reason, Mitch seemed to be a lot more cooperative today than he had been yesterday. He even managed to get a weak "Yes, sir," out of his own mouth as he took his place at the front of his bed.

Morning procedures went much like those before dinner from the evening before. The boys were taken to a bathroom, allowed to use the facilities under close supervision. They were both grateful for a chance to go right after being taken from their room. Neither was sure they would be able to hold it past breakfast, and whatever 'lesson' they were supposed to have today. Then it was off to the cafeteria to get some biscuits, and what the workers said was bacon. It kinda had the same shape and feel as bacon, but lacked any of the taste of it. They saw the same group of boys from last night, but no one seemed all that talkative in the morning 3; especially the youngest of the group. There was an obvious bulge in his tight gray pants, and a faint smell of urine coming from him. But no one said anything about the punishment he had earned last night. After breakfast, the twins were then led back to their room and told that they had about an hour before their first training session.

They spent most of that hour just laying on their beds, resting. They made a bit of conversation with one another, basically just encouraging themselves that they could make it through this. One day down, only four to go. So far it hadn't been too bad. Right? They did speculate about what the training session could be. But they both seemed to agree that it would be a corny classroom session, kinda like the orientation. "What do you think it will be today? Sharing? or 3;" Mitch drew a blank, not even able to remember any of the other letters from the demonstration.

"Well, they already showed that they might not go in order. If yesterday was Polite, then who knows what today might be. But you should probably at least try to remember them 3; in case there's a quiz or something. It was 3; Sharing, Polite, Obedient, Industrious 3; whatever that means, and Loving," Tommy said, not even trying to be a know-it-all like he normally was. He was actually trying to just help his brother to remember. He wanted to do anything he could to make it through the day without any other punishments or incidents, for himself or Mitchell. This wasn't a friendly competition anymore. If they were going to make it through this, they would need to work together.

An hour later Marcus came to get the boys. This time they were both cuffed with their hands behind their back before exiting the room. They were told not to speak, just to follow his directions until they arrived at their training room. He walked behind them as they walked down the long corridors. Again, they saw other boys being led either towards the hallway they were heading to, or away from it. Evidently, the boys were taken at different times. Those walking away looked exhausted and tired, and those walking towards it looked as nervous as Mitch and Tommy were. Both Tommy and Mitchell were as obedient and polite as possible, answering any command with a 'yes, sir', unless they were supposed to remain silent.

Eventually, they made it to their destination. Marcus used his thumbprint to open the door and ushered the two Collins twins into the small room. There was nothing in the room except for two metal chairs and a long metal table. It almost looked like an interrogation room of sorts. The table even had the large U-bolt at either end so that their cuffs could be connected. And the boys could make out large leather straps on the metal chairs, that looked like they were made to hold the body against the back of the chair. They might not of noticed that the chairs and the table were bolted to the cold concrete floor, but they were definitely made to be secure. There was even a special two way glass on one wall, so someone could watch them from the neighboring room. "Mitchell, you will sit in the chair to your left. Tommy, to your right," Marcus said as he closed the door to the room and let the electronic lock automatically engage.

The boys muttered another "Yes, sir," and moved to take their seats. As soon as they were both seated, Marcus moved to Tommy first and uncuffed his hands from behind his back and helped him move his arms to the table, where they were recuffed through the U-bolt. Then Marcus pulled the boy's body back to the back of the chair and went to work with the wide leather straps. Once he was finished, Tommy's back and hips couldn't move an inch forward. Even if he tried to scoot the entire chair with all of his body weight, it wouldn't budge. With his hands chained to the table, he couldn't reach any other part of his body. He was completely helpless and looked terrified at that fact. Mitch was afraid to say anything since they were told to remain quiet, but he did give Tommy an encouraging look and even a little wink, to try and calm his younger brother down.

Marcus repeated the same process with Mitch and the boys just sat across from each other on the long table and stared, too afraid to say a word as Marcus continued to get them ready for their training. Marcus moved to a locked cabinet at the back of the room and pulled out a large metal box. He set it in the middle of the table, blocking the boys' view of one another, then took his own place at the side of the table, clearing his throat to get the boys' attention.

"Today's lesson is all about Sharing. The S of the S.P.O.I.L. program. So far you both have done a good job this morning with the P, Politeness, so I thought we could move on to the S. Sharing is a big part of being a good citizen. Someone who is selfish and only thinks of themselves is more likely to commit crimes or get in to trouble because they never consider what their actions do to others. Today, you will get to see what your selfishness can do to others. In your case, your brother," Marcus explained, causing each boy to gasp as they tried to look around the box at each other.

Marcus gave a moment for that to sink in as he opened the lid of the box and pulled a smaller device out of the middle of it. The boys didn't recognize the device. It was mostly metallic, but there was an what looked like an inflatable accordion styled bag in the center with a plastic tube surrounding it. On two opposite sides of the device were what looked like hose attachments, and on the back was a single power cable. Marcus took the big box off of the table and set it on the floor. And while he was down there, he plugged the device into a power outlet conveniently positioned under the table.

"From what I saw last night, you two seem to care for each other. So sharing with your brother should be easy. So this morning, we are going to have a little contest," he said, as he pulled two items out of the box. The two items resembled something you might see on a game show, they were hand held buttons like a contestant might use to buzz in to answer a question. He placed one in Mitch's hand and the other into Tommy's. He then connected the other end of each into the device at the middle of the table. "Tommy, please press your button."

Tommy did as instructed, nodding and saying "yes, sir," as he did. When he pressed the button, a red light appeared at the top of the device. Marcus nodded as the light lit up, then nodded to Mitch as a silent order to do the same. The older boy tested his button as well, and Tommy's light went off and another light on Mitch's side lit up.

"Good. It seems to be in working order," Marcus said as he bent down to the box to remove the last two items. The boys stared in confusion as the man pulled out two breathing masks, each attached to a three foot [c. 1 m] long hose. "What you two will be sharing today is oxygen. Mitch, what happens if the body does not get oxygen?" he asked, nodding towards the boy as if he expected an answer.

"It 3; umm 3; you die, sir," he answered, swallowing hard as he began putting together at least part of the challenge. He looked quite a bit paler than he did a moment ago and he was noticeably shaking. He didn't understand completely what was about to happen, but if it involved suffocating one or both of them, then it was beyond frightening to the young boy. Tommy hadn't completely caught on yet either, but he could read Mitch's face like a book, and if his older brother was scared, then he knew it had to be something bad.

"That's right, buddy. No oxygen could eventually lead to death, but a lot of stuff happens before that. Your arms and legs will begin to feel cold and weak. Your chest begins to burn and hurt as your lungs try to force oxygen in. You might get light headed and dizzy for a few minutes. Then usually, you would pass out. Sometimes you might even wet or mess yourself while you are unconscious. Then finally, if you still are not given oxygen 3; then yes, you will die," Marcus said, smiling to himself as if he was simply giving the boys a science lesson. But then he moved to each boy and tightened the mask in his hands to their face. Once it was on, they were powerless to get it off, but at least air was getting to their lungs for now.

"Here is how this works. Each of you have a button that will turn on your oxygen. But each time you turn on your air, you also turn off your brother's. You will both need to share and take turns to make sure that both of you can breathe. This will go on for some time, until one of you proves to be more selfish than the other. You see? This device will time how long the two of you use the oxygen. Which ever reaches two hours first 3; loses. The point is to give more than you take. Whoever ends up losing will experience everything I explained earlier 3; weakness 3; soreness 3; coldness 3; dizziness 3; and eventually, they will pass out 3;. And then 3;" he paused letting the boys at least think that they would experience the final outcome of death. Of course, he had no intentions of that actually happening.

"Do you understand?" he said after a long pause.

Mitch and Tommy looked at each other, then back at Marcus. Both of them completely understood the rules and what he explained. They just didn't understand why. Sure, they might learn a lesson, but this was rather extreme, wasn't it? Several questions, complaints, concerns ran through both of their heads, but they were too scared to say anything out loud. Tommy looked back at Mitch and raised his eyebrows, trying to tell his brother to say something. Mitch definitely wanted to, but worried that it wouldn't change anything. It would probably just give him a painful shock. But he was the brave one, he had to say something. "No 3; no, sir. I don't understand. We 3; we are just supposed to learn to be better boys 3; Not 3; You're not going to really kill one of us 3; are you 3; Um, sir?"

Marcus laughed and moved over to ruffle Mitch's hair, then Tommy's. "We will just have to see about that, won't we?" he said, taking the end of Tommy's air hose and attaching it to the device. Then he quickly did the same with Mitch's and pressed a button on top of the machine. The accordion deflated completely, and both lights went off at the top. "Enjoy the lesson, boys," he said before turning to the door and leaving the room.

Both boys took a deep breath and then looked back at one another. The tubes had about two full breaths in them, then one of the boys would be forced to press the button and begin their own timer. Of course, they were in too much shock to realize that right now. "Mitch 3; I 3; I'm scared," Tommy whined, already beginning to taste the stale air in his mask. After only two breaths, there was more carbon dioxide in the tube and mask combined than there was oxygen.

"I know, buddy. I am too. But 3; but we just need to share 3; like he said. Take turns. I'm sure he was just trying to scare us. They won't really let us die, ok? Just 3; how about this. You press first 3; take three breaths, and then I'll press, take three breaths, then back to you. OK? As long as we show that we are sharing, they will probably stop 3; and 3;" Mitch had to shake his head since he was already feeling the effects of the air in his mask running out. "And 3; they'll let us out. OK? Press 3; press your button," Mitch said, part of him knew that if Tommy went first, then there was a better chance he would be the one cut off before he was himself. He did care for Tommy, but if he had to choose between himself dying or his brother, self preservation would win out.

Tommy could already feel a small burning in his chest as Mitch finished his speech. He didn't want to go first, but he trusted his brother. So he did as he was told and pressed the button. The accordion on the machine inflated quickly, then deflated again, pushing clean cool air into the boy's mask. Tommy took a deep breath and relaxed as his breathing returned to normal. Just as he had agreed, he took two more breaths, then nodded to Mitch.

Maybe he should have went first, Mitch thought to himself. It took longer for Tommy to take three breaths than he thought it would. His arms were beginning to feel tingly and his chest was already beginning to heave by the time Tommy nodded that he was finished. Mitch quickly pressed the button, waited for the bag inside the device to inflate and deflate and took a huge gasp of air. Once he recovered, he took two more quick breaths and nodded back to Tommy. There didn't seem to be a clock anywhere, so Mitch just had to judge in his head and make sure that each time he pressed his button, he finished faster than Tommy. He was going to share 3; but only because he was selfish. He wanted Tommy to have more air, so he would be the one to 'lose' the challenge.

Tommy had no clue that Mitch was trying to win the contest. He just thought they were sharing evenly in hopes of being stopped before the either one of them reached the two hour mark. He thought Mitch's plan was the best idea and just went on with it. It wasn't until nearly an hour had gone by that he realized Mitch waited a few seconds longer each time before pressing his button. "Are 3; are you doing that on purpose?" he finally asked, after an exceptionally long wait.

"Doing what?" Mitch responded, while taking three quick breaths and nodding for Tommy to press his button. Mitch was beginning to feel a little guilty about his plan. By his own calculations, Tommy had to have at least had air for a full ten minutes more than Mitch by now. And in reality, his estimate was not far off. At the end of the first hour, Mitch had his air on for 26 minutes, and Tommy was at 34 minutes.

Tommy didn't buy the innocent smile that accompanied Mitch's response for a second. He could tell when his brother was hiding something. He set the button down and shook his head, forcing Mitch's time to continue to increase. "You're taking shorter breaths, and not pressing your button as quickly as me. You're trying to make me lose! You jerk. You're trying to kill me!" Tommy began to tear up as he made his accusation. He was also beginning to feel out of breath, as he was forcing Mitch to catch up in the time. The two sensations combining to make him sound and look a lot more upset than normal, but then again, this was the ultimate betrayal. His brother was trying to kill him.

Mitch gasped. Damnit, he thought, grateful that the collar could not read his mind. Sometimes that whole psychic twin thing was kinda annoying. "No 3; Tommy. I wasn't 3; I just 3; I wanted you to have more, because you're younger. I wasn't even thinking about the timer. I was just trying to share. I promise. I'm sorry. For 3; for now on, you can be in charge. You tell me when to push and I will, OK?" He was at least somewhat genuine this time. He could tell that Tommy was needing air soon and would have to press. Then he really planned on playing along for a while. He figured if whoever was watching heard that they were getting along then there was still a good chance that this would be ended before either of them actually lost.

Tommy's hand was shaking. He did need air, but he still wasn't sure if he believed Mitch or not. "You 3; you 3;" He was breathing heavily now since most of the air was recirculated and not fresh oxygen. "You promise?" he asked, beginning to feel a bit dizzy from starving himself of air.

"PROMISE! Just 3; just press it!" Mitch whined, both worried for Tommy and worried that whatever lead he had built was quickly fading.

Tommy pressed the button, much to both of their relief. He took a deep breath and looked back at Mitch. It was only one breath, but it was enough for him to go on for a while. "Ok. Your turn!" he called back, testing his brother's promise right off the bat. Mitch swallowed hard, but pressed the button anyway, to at least try and prove that he was keeping his end of the bargain. He just hoped that Tommy would go back to normal and not try to hold him there as long as last time.

For the next hour or so, the boys got back into a normal rhythm, each taking nearly the same amount of time before passing it back and forth. The length of time had more or less made them forget about their impending danger and they were just talking to each other like normal brothers. Every once in awhile, one of them would struggle against the straps or try to pull at the cuffs keeping their hands trapped to the table, but they knew they were trapped, so they thought they might as well try to enjoy the time and act like 'good kids', hoping that Marcus or whoever was watching them would assume they had learned their lesson.

Another hour passed, and they were beginning to fall back into the worried stage. They knew it had been a long time, but had no way to determine how long. Even though they were sharing, they knew that at least one of them had to be getting close to the two hour mark by now. "Do you really think they are going to come let us out?" Tommy asked, getting a little scared to press his button now. Mitch was the one currently getting clean air, and it was about the time where Tommy should be taking his turn, even though he wasn't running too short on breath yet.

"Yeah. They can't really let us die. That would be illegal. It's not like we killed anyone, right?" Mitch said, sighing and adding "It's your turn," at the end, trying to get his brother to push. Over the last three hours he had lost track of how long each of their turns were, but he assumed he still had a little cushion room from the beginning of the exercise. In reality, they were almost dead even at the moment. Mitch was at 95 minutes, and Tommy was at 96. First one to 120 lost the contest.

Tommy sighed, at least half sighed, he didn't have enough air to let a full one out. He pressed the button and began his turn. "It's just. We've been doing a good job sharing, and it's been a really long time. What if it suddenly turns off on one of us like Marc 3;" he paused. Even though the man wasn't there, he still felt the need to call him by his proper 'polite' title. "Uh 3; Sir said it would. I'm starting to get scared again. I don't want to choke and die," he whined, already wanting Mitch to take control back from the machine. It felt more like a game of hot potato now. He knew he had to breathe, but he didn't want the light on his side to be on any longer than it needed to be.

As much as Mitch didn't want to suffocate and die, himself, he couldn't help but keep his older brother instincts from rearing their head. He hated seeing Tommy scared. He was scared too, but he wanted so badly to make his brother feel better. Besides, it had been the last thing he promised their mother 3; to look out for Tommy. "Hey, Tommy. Look. I said you were in charge, right?" he asked, getting a nod from his brother. "This is how much I trust we will be ok," he took a deep breath not really wanting to say this, but unable to stop himself. "Take a breath or two, then a long one. That's when I will press my button. Then hold your breath for as long as you can before you press your button. They probably already think that I'm the 'badder' kid after yesterday. So if I seem to willingly be letting you win, they'll probably come turn it off. And if not 3;" he stopped there, not even wanting to think of the possible consequences if he was wrong about the suffocation just being a trick.

Tommy opened his eyes wide at his brother's plan. It was more disbelief than anything. Mitch had never 'let him win' 3; at anything. No matter if it was racing up the stairs, or playing video games, or even thumb wrestling. If Tommy ever won, it was because he really tried and usually just lucked out. He said it was part of his belief that the stronger always win and the weaker always lost. And even though Tommy would never admit it, he knew he was weaker than Mitch in most physical competitions. He thought this was some sort of trick or something, but he could see in his brother's eyes that this was genuine. "Thank 3; Thank you, Mitch," he said in a sincere voice before taking a huge inhale and nodding for Mitch to press his button.

This pattern continued for the next 40 minutes or so. By now, the times had dramatically shifted in favor of Mitch, well technically Tommy's favor and Mitch's misfortune. Tommy had only gone up 14 minutes in the last 40, leaving him at a total of 110 minutes. Mitch, on the other hand was at 119, with only seconds left before he reached the magic 120. It was currently Tommy's turn. He was just in the middle of taking his big breath in. He nodded to Mitch and the older boy pressed his button for what would be the last time. At least, the last time that it was operational. The internal timer of the machine turned the last ten seconds towards 120 and suddenly Mitch's light went out and the red light on Tommy's side, turned green. There was a loud beep and the air returned to Tommy a lot sooner than he expected it to.

"Why did you do that? I didn't get enough time?" Mitch whined, only being able to take one and a half breaths before it suddenly went back to Tommy. He was in the middle of the second breath when the air was cut off. He hadn't noticed the light or heard the beep, but Tommy had. He had been holding his breath and completely silent so the beep was a lot louder to him.

He stared back at Mitch with large sad eyes, then looked at the machine and gave a small nod. "I 3; think 3; time 3; is up," he said slowly, not wanting his guess to be right, but as Mitch grabbed his button and began pushing it over and over, they both realized he was. Mitch was no longer getting air, and his short conversation with Tommy had used what was left in the tube and the mask.

Mitch, gasped in the stale air that was still in front of his face, then realized that his hypothesis from earlier was wrong. They were going to let one of the two affixiate, and it seemed like it was going to be him. "Tommy 3; Tommy 3; Uh 3; It's ok 3; just 3; uh 3;" Mitch was trying to be encouraging to his brother, but he was really beginning to panic. "Just 3; just be good. OK? Don't get punished. Just 3; do whatever 3;he 3; he says." By the end of the comment, Mitch was really beginning to pant for much needed oxygen.

"PLEASE! SIR! COME HERE! PLEASE! HE 3; He' DYING!" Tommy screamed, kicking and flailing in his chair wildly, trying to do anything he could to get free and get to his brother. But there seemed to be no one in sight or within range of his voice.

Mitch's head was already beginning to spin from the lack of air. He could feel everything that Marcus had described at the beginning of the challenge. His arms and legs were feeling heavy and weak. His chest was burning. He felt almost sick to his stomach as he continued to gasp in the same air over and over, even though it was nothing but toxic carbon dioxide by now. "Please 3; I 3; I'm sorry 3;" he moaned in an extremely weak gasping voice. "I'm sorry 3; for 3; everything 3;" His words seemed to be getting weaker as he gasped faster and faster.

Tommy was still frantically struggling against his bonds and yelling and screaming for Marcus. He could see the tips of Mitch's fingers and his lips changing to a darker shade of red than was natural. He saw his older brother's eyes start to flutter and the dark red beginning to change to purple. He literally thought that Mitch was going to die, and even Mitch believed it at this point. His mouth was moving around like it was trying to say something, but only raspy breaths were coming out. Nothing seemed to be going in at all any more.

The boy's body began to tremble uncontrollably. He no longer looked like he was trying to escape. Hie eyes looked like they were staring a hundred miles away. His head was falling forward and then quickly shooting back up. It was the scariest thing Tommy had ever seen happening to his brother. Tommy was screaming Mitch's name at the top of his lungs, then looking at the door and screaming for Marcus, no longer worried about being polite. "PLEASE! MARCUS! MARCUS! SAVE HIM!" he yelled. Then he turned back to Mitch to see his head fall forward for the last time. He was out cold, but his chest was still unconsciously heaving, trying to get air. Tommy began to sob out loud, thinking that his brother was completely dead. How could they let him die? What kind of place was this?!

Suddenly, the machine between the two of them beeped again and both the lights on the top lite up green. A couple of seconds later, Mitch made a loud audible gasp and shot his head up, looking around confused, almost like he had been suddenly woken from slumber in the middle of the night. For a few seconds, he was silent, just moving his head from one side of the room to the others. He looked down at his body and tugged at the wrist cuffs and the straps of the chair. Finally, he looked at Tommy and saw his brother's surprised and tear stained face. "What 3; what happened?"

If Tommy would have been able to, he would have jumped up from his chair and ran to hug Mitch, but of course he was still trapped in his own chair. "I 3; I thought 3; you 3; you died," he gasped. It had been traumatic to watch, and probably did look much like a death, but the workers never had any intention of letting either boy die. Mitch was going to be fine. He would regain his mobility in his arms and legs in a minute or two and his memories would return. The headache and dizziness might take a little more time, but at least he was alive and healthy.

Marcus chose this time to finally re-enter the room, smiling as he addressed the two boys, "Do you understand how important it is to share now?" he asked, moving to Mitch first to remove the mask and the bonds holding him to the chair. He then unlocked the cuffs and removed them completely. Without the support of the straps Mitch almost fell forward out of the chair, but he caught himself and managed to sit mostly upright, as long as he kept one hand in front of him to let the table support his weight.

Both boys turned and nodded to the man as he reminded them of the purpose of the lesson. "Yes, sir," they said almost in unison. "But 3; did 3;" Tommy stopped, not wanting to get in trouble, but his anger and curiosity won out and he eventually finished the thought. "Did you have to let him die like that?! We were being good. We were sharing. He was being nice because I was scared, and then you 3; you 3;"

"Tommy. It's ok," Mitch interrupted him, seeing that he was getting more and more upset as he spoke. He knew that politeness was about to go right at the window if he wasn't stopped. "I'm ok. And 3; I learned my lesson. It's ok."

Marcus was beginning to release the angry younger brother and smiled as Mitch said that he had learned his lesson and that Tommy should calm down. He knew he had really broken the older boy today, and that the younger one would be broken by the end of tomorrow. "That's right. It was important to go all the way to the end of the lesson, so it would be something you would always remember. But as you can see. Everyone is healthy and alive, and now it is almost time for lunch," he explained, getting excited and friendly by the end of his comment, trying to cheer Tommy up some.

***

The bathroom break before lunch, and lunch itself went by pretty normally. The boys were then given four hours of 'schoolwork' to do. It was still summer break, technically, but they were being punished, after all. The next bathroom break came and went, followed by dinner. Then there was an hour in the playroom, and before the boys knew it, it was time for bed again.

Just before entering their room, Marcus recapped the day's events and nodded as he went down the list. "Lesson time was a success, but as we remember, Mitch lost the challenge and earned a punishment. Both of you did a good job remembering to be polite, although Tommy was pretty close to the line with his outbursts during training, but I will let that slide tonight. Zero points, so no punishments or bondage for you tonight. Mitch on the other hand, even though you did not do anything to deserve a spanking or normal punishment bondage, you did lose the challenge, and failed lesson challenges require for a bit more restrictive bondage than minor infractions do."

As the boys' social worker said this, he pressed his thumb to the key pad and allowed the room to open up. Tommy's side looked completely normal, but Mitch's bed looked completely different. His bed was covered with a strange combination of rubber and leather. In the middle of the small mattress looked like a rubber sleeping bag of sorts, but to the right of the bed, it looked like there was a larger bag attached to the smaller one. It was hanging off to the right and almost down to the floor over the side of the bed. "Tommy. I want you to sit on your bed and watch. Mitch, please strip to just your underwear and stand beside your bed. You may place your clothing on the shelf between the two of you.

Tommy stared at the strange contraption on his brother's bed and slowly made his way to the side of his. He didn't really want to watch Mitch get punished, but he also couldn't help but be a little curious what his punishment consisted of.

Mitch just took a big breath and obeyed his instructions. It was nerve wrecking to strip to his plain whitie tighties in front of the man, but he knew better than to argue. It was kinda nice to get out of that tight gray outfit, and he did normally sleep in just his underwear at home. At least he didn't have to get completely naked, like they had in the clinic the first day. He folded the gray shirt and pants and laid them on the shelf, then removed the sandal like shoes they had been told to wear. Once he only had the one article of clothing on, he took his spot at the side of his bed.

Marcus nodded with approval at the boys' obedience and reached over to the far side of the 'sleeping bag' and began to unzip it. "This is a very special bed for you tonight, Mitch. Once you are inside, you won't be able to move an inch, except for your head. It will be warm and it will be uncomfortable, and you will be in there all night. I know that you pretty much let Tommy win today, and that was very generous of you, but I doubt you will make that same mistake next time there is a challenge during the lesson." With that, he opened the inner bag and motioned for the boy to take his place on top of it.

Inside the inner layer of this special bag, was what looked like a the outline of a boy painted with white lines in the otherwise black abyss of the inside of the bag. Mitch tried his best to put his arms and legs into the white lines. It required him to spread his legs a few inches and place his hands a couple of inches away from his hips to the right or left. "Like this, sir?" he asked, genuinely trying to get the man's approval. He figured that the more cooperative he was, the more likely it would be that Marcus would go easy on his punishment."

Marcus patted Mitch on the top of the head and smiled. "So far, so good," he said, folding the rubber flap over the top of the opening, and zipping it up on the far side. He also pulled a short rubber flap up and over the larger one that he had just closed, so that it made an airtight seal over the zipper. He checked the head hole at the top of the bag to make sure it made a good seal around the boy's neck. There was another strap there at his neck, which was tightened over the top of the metal collar, causing Mitch to grunt a little bit as he felt choked for just a moment.

Next, Marcus pushed a button on the front edge of the bag and a loud noise, similar to a vacuum was heard throughout the room, reverberating on the hard metal walls and floor. Mitch could feel the bottom of the bag, the top of the bag, and all sides of his body squeezing his skin as the air on the inside if the bag was pulled out. He already couldn't move a muscle and Marcus didn't look like he was done. "This is step one. Tight rubber bondage. But at this point, if you try hard enough, you can get your legs and arms to move, so we aren't done quite yet. How do you feel so far?" he asked, as if he was giving the boy a survey of how well his service had been thus far.

Mitch let out another grunt as he felt the pressure applied. He wiggled his body, or at least tried to and felt the bag holding him firmly in place. It was a strange feeling, but not entirely uncomfortable. "It just 3; feels weird," he finally said after a moment of attempted squirming. "Not bad though. It doesn't hurt or anything. It's not really even uncomfortable," he admitted, smiling up at the man. This was actually better than the bondage had been last night. At least his arms were down to his side and more comfortable than they were being pulled up to the top of the bed.

"I'm glad you like it," Marcus said with his own grin. He reached over to grab the second larger half of the bag. He folded it over the top of the part that Mitch was already trapped in and let it fall over the boy's body. The material that the top half was made of was a lot heavier than the inner portion. It was still rubber, but nearly three times the thickness and weight. It wasn't even tightened or anything and already Mitch could feel it pushing down on him. It made it a bit harder to let his chest rise with his breathing. And he could already tell that it was going to be hot under the added weight. But he watched as well as he could as Marcus zipped it to a second zipper on the other side and once again pulled a flap over it. A second collar was tightened over the first one and once again it was made air tight against his throat.

Marcus then began to attach the leather straps on either side of this outer layer to buckles attached to the bottom of the boy's bed. There were five on each side of this bag and as they were tightened, Mitch felt more and more pressure on his body. He was beginning to get a little scared of how uncomfortable this was going to be to be trapped in all night. He was already beginning to feel a little bit of sweat underneath of all of the rubber. As soon as the last buckle was tightened, Marcus stopped again and asked the boy how he was feeling.

"It's pretty tight 3; and heavy. I 3; I don't really like it anymore. It's hot in here," he answered honestly, not showing the slightest hint of movement from his body. His head was the only thing able to move freely. His smile was gone, and most of his bravery was fading too. He did assume that it was over at this point though. What else could Marcus do to him?

He did not have to wait too long for the answer. Marcus reached down to the front of the bag again and flipped another switch. It made a similar sound to the one that he flipped before, only this time it was sucking air in from the room and forcing it into the outer layer of the suit. The thick heavy rubber began to expand, simultaneously lifting the boy two or three inches [5-7 cm] from the mattress and forcing its way out from the top and sides of his body. As it began to push against the inner portion of the sack, Mitch could feel the pressure getting heavier and heavier on every part of his body. He began to shake his head, and give the man a pleading look, really getting scared now.

"Please 3; no more! Stop it!" he whined, trying desperately to break free from the ever tightening grasp of the rubber. "Please 3; I 3; I can't breathe," the truth was, he could breathe fine, but the pressure was increasing by the second on his chest and 3; well everything else. By now the bottom half of the bag had even raised him so high, that his head couldn't reach the pillow any longer. It just hung downward from the opening and bobbed there as he continued to struggle and plead with man.

Marcus was keeping a close eye on the pressure gauges built into the chest and neck areas. They were labeled with green, yellow, and red sections, showing when the pressure was too dangerous to allow the occupant to breathe. He stopped it just before the pressure reached the yellow section and made sure that each valve was sealed shut, so no air would leak during the night. "There we go. Snug as a bug in a rubber rug," Marcus said with a huge smile, patting on different areas of the big wide rubber worm strapped to the bed. "I take it that it IS uncomfortable now?" he asked, ruffling the boy's hair and fluffing his pillow so that it could take a little pressure off of the Mitch's neck.

There were tears in Mitch's eyes by now, but he did shake his head to the question, signalling that all the comfort was gone at this point. Marcus simply smiled and reached under the bed to grab the last part of tonight's punishment. "Now 3; I don't want to hear any talking between the two of you. I want lights out and mouths closed. And for you, Mitchell, neither of those is an option," he said, lifting the rubber hood that matched the bag he was now encapsulated in. He didn't say another word as he lowered the front half over the boy's face and squeezed his jaw forcing it to open wide enough to push the rubber plug in the front of the hood into his mouth.

Mitchell couldn't see, he could only feel as the plug in his mouth was pushed in and then quickly inflated to prevent any further whining or speech of any kind. His eyes were completely covered by the hood. His only connection to the outside world was the holes under his nose, allowing air in and out of him. He felt the back half of the hood tightened around his head, then once again pressure began to build as Marcus inflated the hood itself so it squeezed at every inch of the boy's head.

Tommy didn't recognize a single part of his brother now. He couldn't even tell if he was breathing or moving at all. He just looked like a big black shiny blob on the other side of the room. This was beyond frightening to the younger boy and he couldn't even begin to imagine how bad it was in there to Mitch. He just stared in awe at the contraption and when Marcus turned to him with a smile on his face and told him to lay down and stay quiet, he didn't even nod. He simply laid on his bed, frozen in fear as Marcus made his way back out the door and turned out the lights.

If the first night was simply uncomfortable for Mitch, than the second night was pure torture. The way that the rubber squeezed and applied pressure to every part of his body, completely locking him in place. He couldn't move a muscle. Even twitching in his rubber cocoon seemed impossible. The hood around his head blocked out all light and even sound. If Tommy had said a word since the hood had been inflated, Mitch would have had no way to know. In fact, he didn't even know if his brother was still there. For all he knew, Tommy could have been moved to another room. Or hell, even Mitch could have been moved and would have had no indication.

He felt like he was simultaneously floating on air and buried in cement. It took only a few minutes for his muscles to begin cramping in his current situation, and after an hour or so, there wasn't a part of his small body that wasn't sore. But that wasn't even the worst part. The most uncomfortable part was the heat. The rubber trapped his body heat against his skin. With no ventilation and no way for the heat to escape, sweat began to form all over the boy's body. From his hair to his toes, there wasn't a single area of his body that did not feel hot and slimy. He felt dehydrated long before his body finally gave out and he fell asleep from exhaustion.

Tommy couldn't sleep, himself for quite some time. He just kept staring at Mitch. He wanted to go over there and try to comfort his brother some how, but he had been told to stay in his bed and stay quiet. And he did not want to earn himself a punishment or a shock from the nasty collar. So he simply laid there, feeling so sorry for Mitch that he actually began to cry. It had been his fault. Mitch had 'let him win'. He had gotten scared and his brother had been a good big brother and given in, taking not only the fate of suffocating and passing out, but also spending all night in this rubber cocoon. But just as he had the night before, eventually Tommy managed to get to sleep himself.

The morning of their third day in the facility started a lot like that of their second day. The lights in the hallway and in their room both came on at 7am. Tommy did turn to his side as the lights came on and let out a soft moan, trying to get one more hour of sleep. But Mitch had no way of knowing how much time had passed or even that the lights were on. His body had shut down at some point in the night and he was more or less passed out, completely exhausted and dehydrated.

Even when Marcus came in and announced that it was time to wake up, the rubber mound on Mitch's bed did not move. Tommy stood to attention at the end of his bed just like he had the morning before, but there was zero movement from the other bed. Tommy actually began to worry that Mitch was dead inside of the intense bondage. But he watched and remained silent as Marcus went to work, letting the air out of the hood, then the rest of the body sack. He even inflated the inner portion some, so it would pull itself off of Mitch's wet skin. It took a minute for the cocoon to shrink back to a size that allowed Mitch's head to rest comfortably on the mattress. The rubber hood was then removed and Tommy could see the first sign of life from his brother.

Mitch's eyes fluttered a bit, but stay closed as his sweat matted hair touched the cool dry mattress. Then Marcus began to unzip the outer flap of the body sack and let it fall to one side while he went to work unzipping and opening the inner section. As the cool air of the room hit Mitch's body for the first time since last night, his eyes fluttered again and this time he made a rather raspy noise, as his extremely dry mouth tried to open for the first time since the gag had been removed. It actually took Marcus giving the boy several small slaps to the side of the face for his eyes to open all the way. "Good morning, sleepy head. Unless you want to earn yourself an early morning punishment, I suggest you get to your feet and stand in front of your bed," he said in a playful, yet threatening voice.

The boy took several tries to get his body to respond, but was eventually able to swing his legs over the side of the bed and try to stand up. He nearly fell forward, but Marcus was kind enough to catch him and support his weight until the boy's muscles finally strengthened enough for him to stand on his own. Only then did Marcus reach into his pocket to give Mitch a small bottle of water. "You must be very dehydrated. Drink, and then we will head to the bathrooms to get you a shower before breakfast. You smell pretty bad, being covered in sweat like that. In fact, It's been at least a day and a half since either of you have had a shower, so you will both get one before breakfast," he announced, looking over at Tommy halfway through the announcement.

"Mitch, you will receive a new outfit after your shower, so why don't you just wear those sweaty little briefs for now. You will both need to strip once we reach the bathroom anyway. Now then 3; follow me," he said, barely giving the older boy enough time to down the bottle and let out a weak "Thank you, sir," before they started the long march through the gray hallways. At least Tommy was allowed to stay in the gray jumpsuit for now, but Mitch had to make the humiliating walk in nothing but his soaked underwear. Luckily, he had sweated so much last night that he was too dehydrated to pee. But still, his underwear had been soaked to the point that they were almost see through, thanks to all the sweat.

As usual, they passed several other groups of boys, all traveling with their own case workers. And it was clear that some were a little surprised to see one of the two twins walking nearly nude with damp whitie tighties on. Some gave him a look or two, but none of them said anything, not wanting to be impolite and earn themselves a punishment.

When they made it to the bathrooms, Marcus pointed to a couple of the shower heads and told the boys to go ahead and strip down. "Place your clothes in the bin there in the corner. Press the button underneath of the shower head to turn on the water. You have no control over the temperature, and it is kept cold to save on costs. You will need to hurry, but I do expect you to get enough soap on your body to give it a good clean. There is soap in the blue dispenser and shampoo in the purple one. Lather your entire body, then rinse. When you are finished, you may use the bathroom, then stand here on this red line until I return with new outfits for you to wear. We do not have any towels, so you will need to stand on the red line until you are dry. Do you both understand?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," both kids said, although Mitch's voice was still pretty weak. He was actually glad to remove his wet underwear, but Tommy seemed a little more hesitant. "It's ok, buddy. We both have to do it, so at least you're not all alone," Mitch whispered, seeing his brother struggling to strip naked in front of the man, not to mention a group of boys and their worker had also joined them in the large open bathroom. Tommy was probably pretty close to earning a punishment shock for not obeying, but he did finally nod and remove the gray matching top and bottom and tossed them in the bin as instructed. But there was another moment of hesitation as he glanced at the newly arrived boys and then down at his own underwear.

This time the hesitation lasted too long, and Marcus decided he had been lenient enough with the younger of the two boys. He sighed and tapped something on the control device that he wore around his wrist. Tommy hadn't received a shock since the first evening. And as promised, this one was more powerful than the last he had received. So powerful in fact that it actually knocked the boy to his knees. He was unable to scream until the shock ended because it was so strong that it temporarily paralyzed his vocal chords. But as it ended, the boy yelled louder than Mitch had ever heard before. He was clawing at the collar around his neck and taking in big gasps of air, rocking his entire body forward and backwards as he breathed in and out. "Tommy 3; you're 3;" Mitch didn't even get the sentence out before the younger boy looked down and realized the shock had also affected another muscle in his body. In his pain and temporary weakness the boy had wet himself right there on the bathroom floor. Luckily, it wasn't far from a drain, so most of it flowed right down into floor. But unfortunately, the rules were rules.

"Tommy, since you were unable to hold your urine until you made it to the toilet, you will be required to wear a diaper for the next 24 hours. Now 3; I suggest you get those underwear off and in the bin and begin your shower before you earn yet another punishment," Marcus said, clearly losing all patience he had left for the boy.

"Sir 3; please," Mitch started, but when he saw the man's finger heading towards the controller, he quickly shut his mouth and walked towards the button on the wall to begin his own shower. "Just 3; do what he says, Tommy, please."

Tommy simply nodded, still teary eyed from the pain he had just endured. He slipped his own wet briefs off and tossed them in the bin, and quickly joined his brother and pressed the button to the neighboring shower head. The man seemed satisfied enough in Mitch's obedience to not punish him for the slight outburst. In stead, he just tood there and watched as the boy's bathed in the cold streams of water.

The boys proved to be identical in pretty much every way. As their underwear was removed, it revealed a matching pair of little cocks, each measuring a little under two inches [5 cm] in their current flaccid state. But after a few seconds in the cold water, they were nearly invisible as they shiveled up close to the boys' bodies, trying to stay warm. They were both cut, and their young testicles had just begun to descend and separate from their body 3; until they were hit by the cold water and were swallowed up once again.

Both of the boys showered as quickly as possible, but they did do a good job of washing every nook and cranny, and shampooing their hair. It took a little while, since they had to step in and out of the stream of water to keep from freezing completely. When they were finished, they turned the water off and stood there shivering, teeth chattering, in the cold, waiting to dry off. This was probably the worst part of the morning shower. There was nothing they could do, standing in plain site of the other boys, Marcus, and at least two other adult workers. Their little privates shriveled up as small as could be. Mitch did move to use the bathroom as they had been told to do, but at this point, Tommy no longer needed to.

The younger boy was too busy dreading what would be coming after they were dried. He hadn't worn a diaper since he was maybe two years old. His mom and dad did make him wear pullups for a while because he had a bedwetting problem until he was nearly ten. Mitch had even been nice enough not to make fun of him because of this. He saw how humiliated his brother was, and it was probably one of the few nice things he did for Tommy 3; not ridiculing him for needing pullups. But judging from the bulge they had seen in the other boy's pants yesterday during meal times, they had assumed this was going to be a lot larger than a basic pull-up. Tommy was currently just staring at the floor. He was trembling from the cold air slowly evaporating the water droplets off of his skin and he looked like he was about to cry at any moment. He didn't even notice when Marcus whispered something to one of the other adults and disappeared, so he could go and get their new outfits.

"Tommy 3; maybe you should at least 3; I dunno 3; try," Mitch said after standing up from the toilet and flushing. He nodded towards the row of toilets and gave his brother a knowing look, but couldn't bring himself to actually say what he was thinking. He wanted Tommy to try to pee again, or maybe even let out any poop he might have in his system before he got into the diaper. Tommy just shook his head without even looking up from the same tile he had been staring at since he finished his shower, still shivering uncontrollably.

Eventually Marcus returned and cleared his throat, getting both of the boys' attentions. He tossed a large plastic bag at Mitch and simply said "Get dressed." Inside the bag, he would find a fresh pair of the gray pants and shirt, and a new pair of clean underwear. There were even two more of the center-issued sandals. It was a complete new outfit to put on. Marcus held another bag in the other hand. It looked the same, except it had a red label on the outside instead of the black label that had been on Mitch's. "Tommy, come with me," he said, motioning towards a large metal contraption attached to one of the smaller walls at either end of the large bathroom area.

Marcus walked up to the large metal rectangle and pulled on the handle, and just like the plastic changing stations at most fast food restaurants or gas stations, the metal rectangle folded down to reveal a large metal changing station, obviously made to be a lot more secure and hold more weight than those usually found in public places. It was low enough to the ground that Tommy would be able to climb up on it, but he didn't look like he wanted to, at least not until Marcus told him he had to. "Climb up, and lay down," he finally said. The boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but he was not about to refuse and be shocked again. So, he sighed and moved to the newly opened metal table and pulled his body up and laid down on the cool surface, causing him to shiver yet again.

"Sir 3; Do 3; Do I really 3;" he was cut off by the man simply raising his hand and gesturing towards the control device. "Sorry, sir. Please 3; don't," Tommy sighed and just looked away in a small sign of submission.

"You will remain quiet and do exactly what I say. Any more argument, and you will earn another shock, and a second day of diapers. Do you understand?" Marcus said, unzipping the large plastic bag and reaching in to pull out the most important object first. It was probably the thickest diaper the boy had ever seen. It was at least four times thicker than even the most absorbent pull-up Tommy had ever worn before. "This is especially made to be able to handle 24 hours without changing. You will wear this until morning bathroom time tomorrow. And you will be expected to use it. You are not allowed to use the bathroom until this time tomorrow morning. Any attempt to remove it will be met with a harsh punishment. Understood?"

Tommy remained silent and nodded both times he was asked if he understood. And both times, he looked like he was about to start crying again, but had so far managed to hold it in, even as Marcus ordered him to lift his rear off the table. The boy obeyed and forced his midsection into the air as the man positioned the diaper underneath of him. He was told to lower, and as he did, he felt the soft padding against the small of his back and his rear, and finally lost his battle to keep his tears inside. He began to softly cry, but still tried his hardest to remain silent as the man pulled the tapes opened, positioned the front half of the diaper and taped it into place. Once he was satisfied that it was taped snugly, he nodded to the floor and ordered the boy to stand and finish dressing himself. "Yes, sir 3;" was once again whispered as Tommy climbed off the metal table and put the rest of his outfit on.

By the time they made it to the cafeteria, Tommy had managed to dry his tears, but still looked clearly upset. The boys at their table could recognize the look on his face and the bulge in his pants, not to mention that most of them had witnessed either his accident and the announcement of his punishment, or the diapering itself. Either way, none of them said anything as they ate the bland and tasteless breakfast. Tommy didn't seem to have much of an appetite, but Mitch reminded him that he had to eat everything, or he would be punished. Reluctantly, both boys managed to finish their plates just before meal time was over and Marcus came to collect them for their morning 'lesson'.

Again, they walked down the long boring hallways to the far end of the building. They were not bound by handcuffs this time, however. But something was a little different this time. When they made it to the large unmarked gray door, Marcus opened it and pointed to Mitch 3; and only Mitch. "Step on in and stand on the red circle in the middle of the room. Do not move from that spot until you are told to, or you will receive a shock."

Mitch looked at the man and then looked at Tommy. He didn't care if he was shocked, he had to know. "What about him, sir? Where will he be going?" Mitch asked, slowly stepping towards the door to at least show that he was obeying, but still curious about his brother.

The man did not shock him since he was at least slowly obeying, but he also did not do much to answer the question. "He will be in a separate room for today's lesson. You will both be learning the same lesson, but this is one that needs to be taught separately. Don't worry. You will see him again at lunch time," he explained, then reached for the controller on his wrist 3; "Now march."

"Yes, sir," Mitch said giving his brother a sad look and a silent goodbye. A lot could be said in that single look 3; good bye, good luck, be good, be brave, and see ya later. And with that Mitch walked through the door and into the center of the room. It was mostly dark on the inside, but there was a single spotlight shining down to the red circle that the man had described. Anything beyond that spot light was too dark to see for now.

Meanwhile, Tommy and Marcus began continued to walk down the same hall. They turned when they reached the end of the hall, then turned again after walking the stretch of the next hall. Finally, they arrived at another door, and the man opened it to reveal a room very similar room to that which Mitch had entered a few minutes before. "Same thing 3; walk in 3; stand on the red circle and wait," he announced. Tommy nodded, but did not say anything as he entered and took the commanded position as the door closed and locked behind him.

Both boys stayed in their respective circles for several minutes, waiting for any additional instructions. Mitch had been waiting a lot longer and was beginning to get a little antsy, but still managed to do as he was told. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the rest of the lights came on revealing what was in the rest of the room. Both rooms were completely identical. In front of the red circle was a plain white wall with nothing on it except for a large TV. To the right and to the left were two large conveyor belts, like you might see in a grocery store check out lane. At the end of the conveyor belt to the left was a hole about a foot in diameter. Inside the hole was simply a large pipe that led somewhere. It would be impossible for either boy to know where. At the other end of both conveyor belts, where they entered the wall, were two square holes. Again, a little over a foot on each side, and too dark to see where they went from there. The boys got a chance to look around the room for a few minutes before the TV in front of them came to life.

It took a moment for the image on the TV to load up, but as soon as it did, the boys would recognize their case worker, Marcus. Whether it was a live image or some sort of recorded message, they wouldn't know, but the video began to play and they both listened carefully. "As you probably know, we do not always go in order when learning the five elements of S.P.O.I.L. We have five groups of boys this week, so we must stagger the lessons so everyone gets a chance to learn each element. Today, Mitch and Tommy will be learning the 'I' of S.P.O.I.L. Who can tell me what the 'I' stands for?"

Again, the boys weren't sure if it was a recording or not, but Tommy didn't want to take the chance. He answered as soon as the question was asked. "Industrious!" he said out loud, then felt the need to add a "Sir!" even though there was no one else in the room. As for Mitch, he couldn't remember even though Tommy had tried to help him 'study' from time to time. He just shrugged and assumed that the TV wouldn't have anyway of knowing. He assumed wrong and felt a very powerful shock. One that actually sent him crumbling to the ground, and twitching in pain. He had earned a lot more shocks the first day, so his was currently set a lot higher than Tommy's. Luckily, he had already peed before breakfast, so he didn't wet himself like his brother, but he was temporarily paralyzed and unable to move as the video continued.

"Tommy was correct 3; Industriousness. Do either of you know what that means?" The man on the television continued.

This time Tommy did not have the answer, so he simply shook his head and let out a quiet, "No, sir." Meanwhile, Mitch was too weak from the shock to respond at all. He simply stared at the screen, waiting for the answer to be revealed.

Since this lesson had not yet been taught, there was no punishment for their failure to answer. Instead the video simply continued. "Industrious, is another word for being hard-workers. But since S.H.O.L.P. is not a word, we went with the word that started with 'I'," the man said, again smiling at his corny joke. "In order to be a good citizen you must learn to be hard workers. If everything is done for you, then you have no respect for the work others do. No respect for the maintenance man that has to scrub an empty pool after you leave a boy there to wet himself. No respect for the city workers that have to clean and repaint a building's exterior, or replant burned grass, repair damaged park equipment, or pick up the debris from your little explosion. Perhaps if you were made to do some hard labor for a day, you would realize just how much others have to work to earn a living, and you could learn to respect that."

"Today, your task will be simple, but it will be a lot of hard work. At the end of the video, those conveyor belts will start. One by one, heavy medicine balls will begin to come out the conveyor belt on the left. Some will be 5 lbs., some 15 lbs., and some 25 lbs. [2½ - 7 - 11 kg]. And once an hour, you will receive a random 50 lbs. [23 kg] ball. Your job is to simply carry the balls from the left side of the room and place them on the conveyor belt on the right side of the room. As with all of your lessons, this one last four hours. You will also receive a water bottle once after one hour and again after three hours. Once it comes through, the belts will stop for five minutes, allowing you a short break. You will also notice a hole at the end of the left conveyor belt. If any ball drops into this hole, you will earn a severe punishment. If you both make it to the end of four hours without a missed ball, then you will earn expanded playtime this afternoon. If not, your punishments will be carried out after lunch and before your school work. Do you both understand?" And with that the man on the screen paused as if he was actually waiting for an answer.

Tommy was again first to answer with a nod and a "Yes, sir." Mitch was still laying on the ground, but had at least recovered enough to answer out loud, even though his muscles still didn't seem to want to respond to his brain's commands quite yet. "Yes, sir," he said, trying desperately to get up, realizing that the conveyor belt was likely to begin any second now.

Mitch was correct. The video ended as soon as he saw that both boys understood the directions. A countdown appeared on the screen, with the words, "You may now leave your circle and get ready to begin. 10 3; 9 3; 8 3; 7 3; 6 3; 5 3;" By now the boy was able to get back to his knees, but was still not able to get up on his feet. That shock had taken a lot out of him. Not to mention a terrible night's sleep in the rubber cocoon last night. But he had no intention of finding out what punishments might come his way if he let one of those balls drop through the hole at the end of the belt. He had to get up. He had to get to the belt. The countdown on the screen made it to zero and a whistle sounded, indicating that their work day was beginning. And as described the first ball made its appearance on the belt.

Luckily, the first few balls seemed to be coming in slowly. Maybe at a pace of one per minute. And the belt was going slowly enough that it would take about three full minutes for a ball to travel from the wall to the end of the belt, and down the hole. Tommy had no problem picking up the first ball, which seemed to be on of the lighter 5 lbs. ball. He quickly carried it from the left to the right. His diaper made him waddle a bit as he walked, but it didn't stop him from trying his hardest to avoid a punishment. He was easily able to make it across the room, drop the ball and get back to the left side before the next ball even appeared.

Meanwhile, Mitch was literally crawling to the left belt and used the edge of it to finally pull himself all the way up to his feet. He grabbed the ball, which was a medium weight one, and almost immediately dropped it. "Come on!" he whined, wiggling his arms to try and get feeling back into his muscles. "You can do this!" he told himself, trying to grip the ball again. He managed to get a good hold of it, but still had trouble making the 12 foot [3½ m] trek from the left side of the room to the right side. It took him nearly two minutes to limp from one side to the other with the heavy ball. With each step, he regained more and more strength, but only barely made it to the other belt and back before the next ball made it to the end of its belt. By now, though, it was no problem to pick up the next one, a lighter weight one and get back on a regular pace.

The first hour went pretty well for both boys. The only time one of them got close to earning a punishment was when the super heavy ball (50 lbs. [23 kg]) came through the wall. It took the full three minutes for both of them to get it to the other side, and they had to literally run back to get the next one seconds before it fell through. But not long after that scary moment, a water bottle came through the hole and the whistle blew once again, allowing them to take a much needed break. They both sat against the wall and drank the entire bottle in one gulp. The work was hard, and they had broken into a bit of a sweat, but the pace for the first hour hadn't been too bad. They thought that they could easily make it through the remaining three hours. What they didn't know was that with each hour, the pace began to pick up. The balls were about to come through faster, and the conveyor belts would speed up a little bit too.

After the five minute break, the whistle blew again. The boys both hopped to their feet and prepared themselves for the next ball. Now, the balls came through at about 45 second intervals, and there was only two and a half minutes to wait before they tumbled over the edge and into the waiting hole below. It was such a sudden change that neither boy noticed at first. But when the next super heavy ball came through, Mitch seemed to notice that he didn't have enough time to take it and come back. But he was smart. He dropped it in the middle of the room and ran back to get the next one before it fell. Then finished the heavy one with enough time to get the next one. He was pretty proud of himself. He knew that Tommy would probably be smart enough to do the same. He was the smartest of the two, after all.

Unfortunately, the bad day that Tommy had already been having had just become that much worse. He did not make it back in time to get the ball after the heavy ball. He simply heard it thud as it landed in the hole and began to roll away to wherever the tunnel took it. He stared at the hole for probably ten seconds, realizing what had happened. He couldn't believe it. He was going to be punished. And according to what happened to Mitch last night, this was going to be a lot worse than a simple spanking. Tears once again began to well up in his eyes, but he didn't have time to feel sorry for himself. He had to continue to be a hard worker before his punishment became even worse.

Two hours down, two to go. Both boys were beginning to get tired of the work. Their arms, legs, and backs were really beginning to hurt. And as the third hour began, the speed and intervals increased once again. This time, neither boy was able to make it back after the heavy ball. They both earned a punishment, Tommy's second. And bad became even worse as the younger boy failed to make it back after another not as heavy ball too. He was slowing down as the belt got faster. His little legs just couldn't keep up.

Mitch was slowing down too, but he had used his 'dropping' method a few more times to try and keep up. So far, he had only lost the one ball down the hole, even as the third hour ended and again the boys were allowed a break and some water. Tommy had lost three balls in three hours. Mitch had only lost one.

But again, as the fourth hour began, the speed continued to increase. The water and the break had helped, and both boys seemed to find a second wind and keep up for the first half of the last hour. But when the heavy ball came out, Tommy lost two more balls, one right after the other. Mitch had to literally dive to catch his as it was going in the hole, but he moved the two behind it back on the belt a little bit and managed to get them all without losing one.

Tommy was in tears by the end of the four hours. He had lost count and was exhausted, but he knew that he had a dreadful afternoon ahead of him because of his punishments. Also, after the second water bottle, he had been forced to wet his diaper and was completely miserable 3; standing in a wet diaper, feeling his own urine against his skin, and knowing that after lunch he was going to be facing a total of seven punishments. And worst of all, Mitch wasn't even there to comfort him.

Marcus made his return to Mitch's room first, opening the door and motioning for the boy to get his two empty bottles and exit the room. "You did very well, Mitchell. You only lost one ball. Of course, that means you will receive a single punishment after lunch, but still 3; I am impressed at your ingenuity and industriousness. Do you understand the meaning of hard work now?" he said, verifying that today's lesson had been learned before they made their way to Tommy's room.

"Yes, sir. I do, sir. Can 3; Can I ask how Tommy did?" Mitch answered as they began to walk through the hallways to the other boy's room. Marcus did not answer the question until they made it to their next destination. Instead, he simply shook his head and sighed. Once they made it to Tommy's door, he opened it to reveal the younger boy on his knees in the middle of the room, crying. Mitch didn't even ask permission. He quickly ran into the room and wrapped his arms around his brother. "What 3; What's wrong, buddy?" he asked, squeezing the boy tight.

"Tommy lost a total of seven balls, and has earned seven punishments this afternoon. I assume he is quite upset about such a lowsy performance. I believe he has also had a little 3; accident," Marcus said, smiling a bit to himself as he realized that the younger boy was just as broken as Mitch had been after their lesson yesterday. Normally that smile and that self-righteous tone would have infuriated Mitch, and he would have stood right up to the man and gave him some rather choice words. But not in this situation. He knew better, and he knew it wouldn't change anything about the situation. But he did have at least one option that 'might' help.

"Sir? What 3; what if we split them? Like 3; what if we had four punishments each?" Mitch asked, trying to do anything he could to help Tommy, even though he hated the idea of making things worse on himself. It had been mostly his fault for getting them both into this situation. The 'kidnapping', the 'vandalism', even the 'bombing' had all been mostly his idea. Sure, Tommy went along with it, but he went along with pretty much anything Mitch came up with.

"Aww 3; such a loving and self-sacrificing request, Mitchell. But unfortunately 3; Tommy and you, both need to realize that a good citizen accepts his own consequences. If someone else just made everything better for you, then you wouldn't learn your lessons 3; just like mommy and daddy made everything better before and you kept breaking the law. No 3; I'm afraid if you take Tommy's punishments for him, he won't learn the importance of working hard in the future," Marcus said, nodding towards the door. "For now, though, it's lunch time. Let's go."

Mitch helped Tommy to his feet and gave him another hug. "Don't worry. You'll be alright. I promise," he said, holding his brother close and walking him to the door. "I promise," he said again, clenching his own hands into little fists. Tommy was a good boy. They couldn't do this to him. He was going to do something. He just didn't know what 3; at least, not yet.

Lunch seemed to fly by, at least for Mitch. He was the only one allowed a bathroom break before going to the cafeteria. That, added to the knowledge of his pending punishments meant Tommy didn't seem to cheer up at all throughout the meal. He barely even managed to finish his food before time was up, much like he had during breakfast. He wished that the food was poisoned or something, so he could get sick and spend the afternoon in the clinic instead of whatever punishment was being reserved for him. By now his crotch was beginning to itch from the dried urine on his skin and the cool clammy piss that had been absorbed by the padding of the diaper.

Mitch had never seen his brother this miserable. He tried to encourage him and cheer him up throughout lunch, but the boy was inconsolable. Even the other boys at the table felt sorry for him. "Seven?! Really? Oh wow 3; I'm really sorry, Tommy," one said, the others echoing their sympathy. They had all been there about the same amount of time, but none of them had heard of anyone receiving that many punishments from a single lesson. And the worst part, was there were still two lessons remaining tomorrow, and the next day.

Eventually lunch ended, and Marcus came to collect his two boys. Tommy nearly refused to get up from his seat, but Mitch took him by the arms and literally pulled him up to a standing position. "Come on, buddy 3; don't 3; don't make it any worse," he tried to once again encourage him, making sure to keep himself between Marcus and Tommy as if subconsciously trying to protect him from the man. "Sir 3; can I ask what our punishments are going to be like? Are they like 3; more spanking 3; or like that rubber sleeping bag thing?" Mitch asked, the anxiety really beginning to get to him. The fear of the unknown was a lot worse than the actual punishment, at least at this moment, it seemed that way.

Marcus did not respond. He just led the boys back down the long hallway towards the 'punishment wing'. An area of the building they had not yet visited. The halls all looked the same though, and the doors were all closed, not giving them any indication of what was inside. Both boys seemed to be noticeably trembling as they approached the door that Marcus had chosen for them. He opened it and gestured for the boys to walk in.

What they saw on the inside didn't look like 'punishment', per se. It looked more like 3; a gym. Not like an elementary school gym with a basketball court. It was more like a fitness center, weight room, exercise room you might find in a high school or a sports club. There was a couple of treadmills, stair climbers, free weights, a weight machine, a couple rowers, exercise bikes, and a calisthenic center with pull-up bars and mats for sit-ups and push-ups. They just stood there and looked around the room, with a confused look on their face. Their punishment was 3; working out? Mitch looked like he was about to ask that exact question, but Marcus beat him to it and began to explain their regimen.

"Boys, since you failed in a physical task 3; your punishment is to intended to help you become physically stronger. Physical strength and endurance is always helpful to make you more industrious, hard-working members of society. So 3; since Mitch did a lot better during the lesson, he only has to have one period of exercise. It will be chosen at random. Tommy, on the other hand 3; set a new record today, seven failures means seven work out sessions. And since this is a punishment, I can guarantee, neither of you will be taking these sessions lightly. These devices have some added incentives to make sure you are constantly working hard. Each session will consist of 25 minutes of exercise, increasing in difficulty as they go along. Then five minutes to rest before moving on to the next session."

"Mitch only has one session, so he only has to be in here for 30 minutes. But 3; I am going to give him a choice. Mitch, you can either leave this room after your session is over, and go and do some school work in the regular study area, or we can have your work brought here and you can watch Tommy with the remaining three hours of his punishment while you work on some school work. However, you will need to remain silent during that time so you don't distract your brother. The choice is yours. Watch him suffer in silence, or leave him to suffer on his own?"

Mitch didn't even have to think about it. He decided to stay, even if it meant he couldn't verbally offer his support. At least he could literally be there for his brother. Tommy hadn't said a word since entering the room. He was at least a little reassured to see that it wasn't some sort of dungeon or anything that looked too painful. He wasn't thrilled about being forced to work out, but he figured it wouldn't be 'that' bad. Unfortunately for him, Marcus wasn't quite finished describing the 'punishment'.

"Mitch, I need you to step over to these lockers here and remove your clothes. Tommy, you will use the lockers right beside Mitch's. Remove everything except for your diaper 3; obviously," the man said. By now both boys were at least somewhat comfortable being naked around the man. They didn't exactly enjoy it, but they knew better than to argue, and he had already seen everything there was to see anyway. They were a little surprised that they had to work out in the nude, but at least there wasn't an audience like there had been in the bathroom.

Both boys took off the tight gray 'prison' outfits and laid them in the provided lockers. Mitch removed his underwear and laid them in there as well. They stood up straight, Mitch's young cock hanging limply to the left, and Tommy's still covered by the thick wet diaper.

"Good boys. Mitch 3; you first. I need you to come over to this padded bench here and lay on your back with your hands behind your head," the man ordered, pointing to a high padded bench near the lockers. Again, Mitch knew better than to disobey and took his place on top of the bench, in the position that the man had described.

The man pulled a drawer out from the side of the large bench and produced a small box. "This 3; is what is going to incentivise you to give this work-out your all," he explained, removing a small metallic object from the box. "Have either of you ever masturbated before?" he asked, working with the moving parts on the small object, opening it and getting it ready to be attached to the boy's waiting cock and balls?

Tommy didn't answer out loud. He simply shook his head back and forth. He knew what masturbating was, and had witnessed Mitch doing it at night from time to time, but he still thought it seemed dirty and wrong for some reason. He had had his first wet dream just a few weeks ago, and had experienced some pleasurable feelings when he wore those tight speedos at the pool. But he had never purposely played with himself.

Mitch, on the other hand, had learned about masturbation a little over a month ago. It was completely by accident. He was just exploring himself and found that pulling on his little member felt good and made it hard. The more he pulled, the better it felt. He had a slightly wet orgasm only once. It scared him to death, thinking he had done something wrong. He wasn't producing semen yet, but did make a small amount of clear liquid come out. He hadn't brought himself to that point since then. He had played around and gotten himself hard, but that was about it, since his first little climax. "Umm 3; yes, sir 3; a couple of times," he admitted, after thinking about his former experiences.

"Well, this little toy here can do two things. If you meet your goals on your exercise, it will give you a gentle vibration that feels really good. The better you exercise, the better it will feel. It is carefully programmed not to bring you to a climax 3; or an orgasm. You know what that is? right?" he said, taking a moment to judge both of the boy's faces before continuing. He thought that maybe Mitch understood, but wasn't too sure about Tommy. "Well, I'll just say it can feel very very nice. If you maintain your goals for the full 25 minutes, you will likely experience one just before your break time. But if you don't work hard enough and fall below your goals at any point, you won't get to feel the orgasm. Instead, you'll feel a nasty little shock. Have either of you ever been kicked in your balls before?" he asked, not even giving them a chance to answer before continuing. "Well, let's just say THAT does not feel very good. And that is about what this little device will feel like when it shocks you. So I would encourage you to try your hardest to be good little hard workers," he explained, going to work, attaching the device to Mitch's awaiting cock and balls.

There were a few parts of the little toy. It almost looked like a cock cage, but the area that wrapped around the shaft of their small cocks wasn't hard and rigid. Instead it was made from a clear stretchy rubber. There were three metal rings within the rubber, but they weren't tight enough to prevent an erection. Those rings could vibrate at various speeds and were synchronized, so they could mimic the feeling of pulsing and stroking. The back half of the device fit around the boy's scrotum and balls. It encased them in a metal surface where the punishment shocks would be delivered. Once everything was in place, two metal straps clicked into place and locked, holding the entire device in place, so it could not be removed.

Once Mitch's device was fitted, the man patted the table and looked at Tommy. "Your turn. I will need to remove your diaper for just a moment, but it will be going right back on," he explained as the younger boy made his way to the table. A few minutes later, the man had fitted him with the same device and pulled the same wet diaper back into place.

Next, the man walked to a panel on the wall and pressed a few buttons. The panel read a message out loud 3; "Prisoner 3; Collins, Mitchell Jr. First task 3; Stationary Bike 3; Duration: 25 minutes. Please take position," the man simply nodded towards one of the bikes and gestured for Mitch to take a seat. Then he tapped the screen again and the voice sounded again 3; "Prisoner 3; Collins, Thomas. First task 3; Rowing Machine. Duration: 25 minutes. Please take your position." Tommy didn't even need the nod. He heard the machine and walked over to take a seat on his randomly chosen device.

"Alright. I am going to go and get Mitch's work. You two, simply listen to the machines. They will tell you your goals. You maintain your goal, you get a reward from your little devices. Slack off or slow down, you get a punishment. Understood?" he asked, standing next to the panel on the wall.

"Yes, sir," both boys answered. Tommy had relaxed a little bit now. This didn't seem too bad. Sure, the thing on his cock and balls scared him some, but how hard could some exercise be? And he was a little intrigued to feel the 'good' feeling the man had described. Mitch, having experienced something close to an orgasm was even more intrigued, and kinda looking forward to being rewarded with another one. Even if he only had to do one session, he was really going to try to do it to his best, so he could earn that reward.

And with that, the man pressed the start button on the panel and both the bike and the rowing machine came to life. "First goal 3; five minutes 3; maintain the following speed. You have 15 seconds to reach this speed. Starting now." Mitch only had to make it to half a mile an hour on his bike. Something that was very easy to reach and maintain. Tommy needed to reach and maintain eight or more strokes per minute. Again. This was a simple task, even for a 12 year old boy. Both kids were easily able to make those goals within 15 seconds, and were easily able to maintain it throughout the first five minutes.

And since they met and held their goals, they were both rewarded with a very low level pulsing vibration on their new devices. Mitch actually let out a little laugh and slowed down some for a minute, but not enough to fall below his goal. "Wow 3; that kinda tickles. Feels nice though. How about you, Tommy? Doing good?" he asked. He hadn't been told not to talk while he was exercising, just later while he was watching Tommy work.

"It's kinda 3; I dunno 3; strange. But a good strange," the boy admitted. They could both feel their little entrapped cocks growing within the device, but this was no where near enough to get them to a climax.

The first five minutes elapsed and their next goals were displayed on the screen. It seemed the warm up part was over. Their goals doubled 3; 1mph for Mitch, and 16spm for Tommy. Again, this was pretty simply, but did require more energy to keep it up. Again, both boys met their goals and felt the vibration get a little stronger, and instead of pulsing, it began to move in a more stroking motion. Tommy gasped first, followed shortly thereafter by his brother. "Wow 3; that really feels good," Tommy said, actually smiling for the first time that day. He didn't even care that he was in a damp diaper and being forced to exercise with some strange device on his cock. It felt good, and he had to admit that.

"Yeah 3; if this is punishment 3; I like it," Mitch agreed, not even breathing hard or breaking a sweat from his own exercise. In fact, he was maintaining two miles per hour on the bike. Tommy was easily maintaining close to 20spm on his own machine, but he was beginning to breathe a little harder. But he was still not struggling yet.

After another five minutes, the goals increased again. 5mph for Mitch, and 24spm for Tommy. This was a pretty steady workout now. And there were two increases remaining. Still, the boys didn't have trouble maintaining this new speed, and they were both rewarded yet again. Back to pulsing this time, but the vibrations were higher than before. They could both feel their cocks really beginning to swell in the confines of the rubber and metal rings. And whether it was the physical exercise or a reaction to the devices, they were both beginning to breathe a little harder and more rapidly than before.

Neither boy said anything this time. They were a little embarrassed feeling this much stimulation in front of the other, plus they were trying to focus on their exercises. Neither would be able to explain why they were working so hard. Was it a desire to please Marcus, even though he wasn't there watching them at the moment. Or did they just want to avoid the painful shock he described. Or more than likely, they wanted the vibrations to increase and to earn an orgasm. Their preteen minds, and more importantly hormones were beginning to override any other rational thought. They needed to work harder, to get more pleasurable vibrations, to climax, to be hard workers, to be industrious 3; to obey.

Another five minutes came and went, and now the boys were both breathing hard and even building up a little sweat. Now for the hard part, the first of two challenging paces to maintain. The bike went up to 12mph, not that hard, but still enough to keep Mitch working hard to maintain the goal. As for Tommy, he went up to 30spm, one stroke every two seconds. He was gasping for air now, but was really trying to maintain the rate. He was pushing himself. And they both managed to keep up with their demanding goals, and yet again, they were rewarded 3; back to stroking again, a bit faster and a bit stronger than before.

Mitch actually let out a soft moan, standing up on the bike as a wave of pleasure washed over him. It almost distracted him enough to slow down, but he caught up just before falling below his goal. "I 3; I 3; I've never felt this good before. I want more!" he said out loud, not even really aiming the comment to anyone other than himself.

Tommy was feeling his own bliss and moaning quietly to himself too. "Yeah 3;" was all he could say in response to whatever Mitch said. He couldn't focus on anything but trying to stroke the machine as hard and as fast as the device was stroking him.

The last five minutes of the exercise began, showing them new goals that would require a lot more work. 22mph on the bike. Which wouldn't be a problem under most circumstances, but after 20 minutes of intense pleasure and exercise, it would be tough to keep up with that speed. As for Tommy, his demands were now 35spm. But he didn't care how hard that was to maintain, he would do anything at this point to reach the end of the pleasure and actually make it to an orgasm. His little cock was actually beginning to hurt with how much it was straining inside the metal rings. They didn't prevent an erection, but they did kinda bite into a 'full' one.

Both boys managed to maintain their goals. They didn't care how much they needed to push themselves. It was only the first session. They could do it! This time the device changed from pulsing starting at low levels, and building to the highest they had had so far. It did this for the first four minutes, then during the last minute of their forced exercise, it began to stroke again, so fast and so strong that both boys actually yelled out in pleasure. Their minds were blank. They just kept pushing themselves to their limit. Mitch's legs began feeling wobbly, but he kept pedaling as hard as he could, going nearly 30mph on the bike, without even realizing it. Every part of Tommy was beginning to get sore 3; legs, arms, back 3; but he didn't care. He was so close 3;

The devices synchronized perfectly with the timer on the exercise equipment. As the last five minutes ended, the stroking reached its top speed and power and at exactly the same time both boys experienced something that Mitch had ever only experienced once, and Tommy had only experienced in his sleep. It was the most powerful orgasm that either of them had had. And mixed with the fact that their bodies were exhausted from the exercise, all they could do was go completely limp and literally fall off of the devices onto the padded surface of the floor.

The devices stopped, but both boys continued to thrust their hips into the air as they felt the aftershocks of the orgasm. Obviously, Tommy's diaper absorbed anything that came out of his little cock. But Mitch just let a little bit of the clear liquid from his own little cock just drip onto the rubberized ground of the room. They were both panting and moaning, but unable to form a complete sentence or thought. They even seemed to forget that their brother was in there. They were just in their own little world of pleasure.

They didn't even notice when Marcus came back into the room and smiled at the display in front of him. He set a folder of worksheets and stuff for Mitch to work on on a near by counter and then stood in the middle of the room between the boys. "Good job 3; both of you. Good workout!" he said, helping Mitch to his feet and leading him to the makeshift desk. "Now then 3; like I said before, you are not allowed to speak to Tommy while he works. Your mic will be activated and I will be watching. If you speak, you will be shocked. I want you to sit here and do your work, while he does his. But 3; since you are brothers, I want you to be able to share in his rewards and punishments. So your device will stay on. If Tommy continues to work hard, you get to experience six more orgasms in the next couple of hours. If he fails to do his work 3; well 3; you both feel the punishment shocks," the man explained. "And just to make sure you don't interfere and you focus on your own work 3;"

Marcus opened another locker and returned with two ankle straps like Mitch had worn the first night in bed. He quickly fastened them around the older twin's ankles, and ran a short length of chain to the bench where he would be sitting to do his work. This would make it impossible for him to reach any of the other devices or to reach Tommy. All he could do was sit and watch silently, feeling the same pleasure or pain as his brother.

"As for Tommy. You have two more minutes to rest then on to the 3;" he tapped the screen on the wall and the next random exercise was selected. "Prisoner 3; Collins, Thomas: Second task 3; free weights. Duration: 25 minutes. Please stand in the designated area and wait for instructions."

The younger boy nodded and actually crawled to the next area, still recovering from his mind blowing orgasm. He took the whole remaining two minutes to take deep breaths and prepare himself for his next exercise. The weights on the wall behind him were all electronically registered and could register as they were lifted and moved. There was a display above them and a mirror with a silhouette showing him what motions were required. Just like with the bike and rowing machine, it would start off nice and easy 3; five pound weights 3; then ten 3; then twelve 3; then fifteen 3; then twenty [2¼ - 4½ - 5½ 7 - 9 kg]. He had to curl, lift over his head, all the way down, then all the way up. It was an intensive exercise, but he managed to complete it 3; collapsing hard as the second orgasm in that hour racked his body. He nearly dropped the twenty pound weights on his body as he went down to the ground. Mitch enjoyed the same sensations and was silently cheering his brother on in his head as he collapsed on the table in front of him experiencing his own orgasm.

Next came the bike for Tommy. He was getting tired, but again managed to maintain his goals. The third orgasm actually seemed to hurt more than it was pleasurable though. Both of the boys were empty when it came to precum, so they experienced a dry orgasm and after 90 minutes of forced pleasure, it was nearly as enjoyable any more. They were both panting, even after the five minute rest period. Tommy didn't know how he could make it through four more sessions. And even though Mitch was just sitting there watching, he wasn't sure he could take much more either.

Next up was the weight machine. Tommy had to do butterflies, and more curls, and some bar lifts 3; with increasing weights and reps. He did good for the first 20 minutes, but he was already feeling exhausted and just could not maintain the pace during the fifth portion of the session. He had been so close 3; in more ways than one, but he failed to meet his goal and literally screamed as he felt the first punishment shock. It knocked him to the floor harder than the orgasms had in the past. He reached for his diapered crotch and squeezed hard, panting again, but for different reasons. He had never been kicked in his groin before, but just like Marcus had warned, that was exactly what it felt like. He was seeing stars as he rolled on the ground clutching his family jewels. The worst part was, he still had a minute left on the exercise and even though the goal had decreased because of his failure, he couldn't even get up to grab the bar again, so he was hit with a second shock thirty seconds later, then a third as the session finally came to an end.

The boy was in tears on the ground, and Mitch could do nothing to help him, since he was in his own world of pain, howling on the other side of the room. He wanted to try and comfort Tommy, but a shock to the groin was bad enough, he didn't want to earn one to his neck as well. Five minutes wasn't nearly long enough of a rest for either of them, but that was all the time they got before Tommy was ordered to the stair stepper.

He was still in a great deal of pain, but did not want a repeat of what happened on the weight machine. As tired as he was, he managed to make it through the stair machine without a shock, but another dry orgasm didn't exactly feel great either. He forced himself to his feet during the next break and helped himself to a huge drink of water from the fountain in the room, before moving to the aerobics area.

Chin-ups, Push-ups, and Sit-ups were next. The boy managed to make it through this without a punishment, but he could barely move after the fifth orgasm of the day. He had one exercise left 3; the treadmill. It seemed simple enough 3; just walking or jogging. He could do it.

But he couldn't even get up to his legs. All he had to do was maintain a pace of 1/4 mile an hour [400 m/h] for the warm up portion. But each time he stood, his legs just wobbled and he fell again. He glanced at Mitch, who had his hands clasped together, literally praying silently that Tommy would get himself up there before the five minutes was up. Unfortunately, for both of them, that didn't happen. Another debilitating shock hit them both, causing the to scream out in unison.

Young Tommy managed to fight through the pain and get up to his feet, using the handle of the treadmill to support his weight, at least long enough to start the exercise. He made it through the first ten minutes before his legs rubberized again and he tripped, fell, and slid off the machine. Of course, that meant another painful shock. Painful enough to make the boy piss in his diaper yet again. He was in tears, too weak to pull himself back up onto the machine, so he earned a third shock 3; then a fourth. There was still ten minutes remaining on the device, and the boy's body had just given out completely.

A fifth 3; sixth 3; seventh 3; every thirty seconds, another shock 3; over and over 3; to both boys. Mitch had fallen off the bench and was rolling back and forth in pain, unable to do anything more thanks to the leg restraints keeping him fastened in that position. He screamed in pain, but did not dare speak. He knew Tommy couldn't do anything if he wanted to, and talking would just earn him more pain and punishment. They had both lost track of how many shocks they received. But the total was upwards of twenty 3; each more powerful than the last. They passed out from the pain, and Mitch didn't even realize it, since he was unconscious, but the pain had been so bad, that even he had pissed himself in the gym. Meaning when they woke up, he would be joining Tommy in a diaper punishment.

When the boys next regained consciousness, they would find themselves in their own room. It seemed that they had missed any 'play time' and even dinner. They had no idea what time it was, but it was actually a little after midnight. It seemed that their bodies had just completely shut down after their experience in the gym. Tommy was still in the same diaper that he had been wearing since the morning of their third day in this hell-hole. His crotch itched badly from a day's worth of dried urine constantly touching his skin. Even his ass itched from the trapped sweat and lack of air flow.

In fact, those were the first sensations the boy noticed as he began to wake up. He went to move his hands to his crotch and found that they wouldn't move. He opened his eyes and looked down at his body. He was still wearing the same gray outfit they had had on since their program began, but he was fastened to his bed by a series of soft white straps. They kept his legs slightly spread and his arms out to his side, just too far away from his body for him to reach his sides. So touching his crotch was definitely out of the question. He could move his head from side to side, but there were more soft straps over his chest and over his crotch, preventing him from sitting up.

He actually had to admit that this was kinda comfortable, but he still didn't like the fact that he couldn't move. He tugged against the restraints a few times and then gave up, realizing that they could not be removed without someone else doing it for him. He sighed and turned his head to his side, looking towards Mitch. His older brother was still unconscious, but seemed to be restrained in the same way. And by now, Tommy was clearly able to recognize the bulge coming from under his brother's tight outfit. He was in a diaper too. In any other situation, he would have probably teased his brother for that, but now was not the time. They needed to support each other. "Mitch 3; you awake?" he finally said in a soft whisper, trying to get his brother's attention.

The younger boy hadn't noticed, but both he and Mitch had an IV pole set up next to their beds and a line ran from the plastic bag into their arms. This provided them with fluids and nutrients, since they had missed dinner. It also helped them rest for the last few hours and re-energized their bodies after the grueling 'workout' they had received earlier. It was the only reason that they would both feel so good after waking up. But they would eventually need to get back to sleep, to prepare themselves for the day ahead.

Mitch could barely hear his brother's voice. It sounded like it was very far away, in the distance. He moaned to himself and turned his head in Tommy's direction, but didn't open his eyes. He was still holding on to the last few moments of drug induced slumber. But as Tommy raised his voice a little more and repeated his call to his brother, Mitch finally awoke. He took a moment to look over his body and recognize that it was restrained and let out a sigh, not even trying to struggle against the bonds. He hadn't had a single night in this bed without some sort of bondage, so he was actually kinda grateful for a comfortable Segufix, instead of something like he had last night.

"What time is it?" the groggy older brother asked, blinking his eyes to try and get the sleep out of them, since he couldn't rub them.

"I dunno. Late, I think," Tommy replied, even though he had no way of knowing. No windows and no clocks. They could only guess it was late since Marcus didn't seem to be anywhere around. "Are 3; are you ok?" he asked, remembering how he had passed out himself, and just assuming that the same thing had happened to Mitch.

"Yeah 3; I think so. Just 3; kinda tired," Mitch replied, staring up at the gray ceiling above his bed. "How about you?"

"Same 3; I 3; I dunno if I can do this for two more days. It 3; It's too much," Tommy whined, choking up a bit as he held back tears. He wanted to try and be strong, but they had only barely made it past the halfway point. He didn't think they could actually make it to the end at this pace. "I wanna go home!" he whined, now obviously tearing up, even though it would be hard for Mitch to see in the dim light. Still, the older boy knew his brother's voice well. That little crack at the end was all he needed to hear to know that Tommy was crying.

"It's only 3; two more days. We can do it. Ok? I'll help whenever I can. But 3; you have to be strong. Ok? Just two more days." Mitch tried to reassure the younger boy, but even he had his doubts if he could last that long.

"What 3; what if we tried to escape. This place can't be legal. We could get out, and tell our parents what they did to us. They could make sure our lawyer sues them, and then we wouldn't have to go to jail. We would be free, and we would be back at home. They can't 3; just 3; do this to kids. It has to be illegal!" Tommy whined, obviously having thought this out some in his head in the last few minutes. "I 3; I 3; kinda 3; have an idea," he said, hoping and praying that his brother would go for it. He knew it was going to be hard to talk him into it, but if it worked, they could both get out and get help.

Mitch would have loved to find a way to escape, but he was really worried what would happen if they failed. He had already endured a lot more punishment than Tommy for his rebellious attitude. If he was caught trying to escape, what would that psycho Marcus do to him. But he had to at least hear his brother out, even though they both seemed to forget that their collars had built in mics and that someone could be listening in on them that very minute. "Alright, smarty pants 3;" Mitch tried to joke a bit to lighten the mood. " 3; what's your big idea?"

"Well 3; you're not going to like it. You know how the last time you were shocked, you couldn't move for a little while?" Tommy started, taking a deep breath and continuing before Mitch had a chance to answer. "Well, skin transfer's electricity. It's science." A subject that Tommy excelled in, and Mitch rarely paid attention to. "So 3; I kinda thought 3; that in the morning, when Marcus lets us out of the beds and starts to take us into the hallway 3; if you grab his hand and 3; well 3; cuss. Then you would shock him at the same time your collar shocked you, and neither one of you would be able to move for a few minutes. Then I could run and get out and get help and come back for you. I'd do it, but my shock isn't as strong as yours right now. Please 3; It will work. I promise. I will get help and come back for you as fast as possible, before they do anything bad to you," Tommy said, talking faster and faster as he neared the end, knowing that Mitch might interrupt him at any point.

Surprisingly, the older boy remained silent, hearing out the entire plan. It was actually a pretty decent idea. All except for one part. "So 3; say I did it. And it worked. Marcus was temporarily paralyzed. And even if no other adults saw what happened or tried to stop you, you managed to get away 3;. have you seen an actual exit anywhere?" he asked, showing that he was a little smarter than he normally let on.

"Yeah 3; I thought about that. I have not seen a single exit, not even an exit sign. Not since they knocked us out that first day and we woke up in this room. I guess that is for security reasons. They wouldn't want us to know how to get out. But 3; if there is one room that I know will have an emergency exit in it, it would have to be the kitchen. You know? In case there is a fire on the stove or the oven. Every kitchen has to have an exit. Besides, where else would they deliver the bread and stuff to?" Tommy said, obviously having thought that part out as well. "So 3; if you wait until we are almost to the cafeteria, I won't have as far to run. What do you think? It'll work. It's gotta. These guys are going to be in so much trouble."

Mitch wasn't nearly as convinced as Tommy, but they probably had a few hours to think the plan over and decide for sure if they should try it. They discussed it a bit more, well into the wee hours of the night. But eventually, they decided to get some sleep. Whether they tried to escape or not, they would need their energy in the morning.

***

As usual, the morning wake up routine seemed to come way too early for the boys. They were both untrapped from their beds and made to stand in front of them just like they had the last two mornings. Neither of them said anything about their plans, or even made eye contact with each other as Marcus inspected them. "Looks like someone is getting pretty soggy around the midsection," the man said, patting Tommy's well swollen crotch. "Lucky for you, your diaper comes off before breakfast. You on the other hand 3;" he turned his attention towards Mitch, "Get to keep yours until dinner time. Now then 3; let's hit the showers and the toilet," he said, then laughed and shook his head. "At least for Tommy. No showers while in a diaper, and well, you are wearing your toilet," he said, again focusing his ridicule on Mitch.

"Yes, sir," both boys said in unison as they followed the man out the door, and down the long hall towards the bathroom. A few minutes later, Tommy was clean and un-diapered. His entire crotch was red from the irritation of the urine that had been absorbed by the skin. It burned fiercely, but he was still grateful to be out of the diaper. He scratched at his midsection quite a bit, even after being dressed in a new suit. The tight fabric pressing against his skin, just made the itch that much worse. It was driving him crazy, but he tried to remain calm as they left the bathroom and made their way towards the dining hall.

Tommy waited until they were almost to the cafeteria before turning to Mitch and giving him a silent nod, followed by a pleading look. It was obvious that the younger boy really wanted to follow through with their plan, but Mitch didn't seem to look so sure, especially because he was going to be the one that had to endure the pain of the shock and the immediate retaliation that would come from an escape attempt, whether Tommy succeeded in his part of the mission or now. Mitch just couldn't do it. He shook his head and gave Tommy a sad apologetic look.

Tommy wasn't going to take no for an answer that easily. They were almost there, this was their only chance. He gave an even more earnest pleading look, practically begging Mitch with just his eyes. He then nodded his head several times towards Marcus, as if saying 'Now! Now! Now!'.

Every fiber of Mitch's being was telling him not to do this. It wasn't going to work. They were both going to be punished. And even if it did work, Mitch was going to be punished either way. But he just couldn't refuse Tommy. And who knew 3; it might work. Tommy could get out, get help and free them both. They were a few steps away from the swinging double doors that led to the cafeteria. It was now or never. "Mr. Marcus 3; sir?" Mitch said, taking a deep breath and reaching for the man's hand.

Their social worker heard his name just before pushing the doors opened and turned to look at Mitch, "Yes?" he said, barely even noticing the kid's hand reaching out for his own.

The second Mitch's hand made contact with Marcus's, he took another deep breath, grasped it as hard as he could and practically yelled 3; "FUC- ARGH!!!!!" he couldn't even get the word out before the most powerful shock he had felt so far racked his body, immediately sending him and Marcus crumbling to the ground in pain. Of course, the shock was powerful enough to make Mitch wet himself again, but luckily, the diaper absorbed it as the boy and the man fell into a lump on the ground.

Tommy watched for only a moment, just to make sure that Marcus was unable to reach his control device. Once he was sure the man was incapacitated, the young boy took off, full speed, through the double doors, and straight for the kitchen. He wasn't even going to bother using the kitchen doors. He just ran for the counter, where they would normally pick up a tray. It was lower than the serving counter and there was no kitchen staff standing there. The boy was not exactly a good athlete, but even he could make the small hurdle of the tray dispenser.

And make it, he did, flying through the air with grace that even he did not know he had. Once he was on the other side, he quickly made his way to the cooking area. At least, what he assumed was the cooking area. A few of the kitchen workers had to have seen him make the jump, but none seemed to care. They simply kept working as if everything was normal. Tommy didn't notice it at the time, but everyone carried on like normal. The other adults, the other kids, no one seemed to notice the boy trying to make a daring escape.

Once past the serving line and in the back half of the kitchen, Tommy came to a full stop. He couldn't believe his eyes. There, right in front of him, plain as day 3; was 3; nothing. Nothing at all. No stoves, no ovens, no refrigerators, no freezers, no cooks, and most importantly 3; no exit. "How 3; but 3; but 3;" The boy was frozen. This couldn't be right. Was everything just delivered and brought straight to the line? Nothing was actually cooked here? And where was the delivery bay? He thought for sure that there had to be some kind of exit back here. But there was nothing but a big empty room.

Maybe he had made a mistake. Maybe this was an old pantry or something and the real kitchen was on the other side of the service line. Yeah 3; that must be it. The boy shook off his initial disappointment and quickly ran back out the swinging doors, back out to the serving area. He still had time. There was no way Marcus had already recovered, and even if guards saw him on the cameras, it would take them a few seconds to get to where he was. He could still do this. He kept telling himself those encouraging lies as he made it back out to the cafeteria. But then, once again, he stopped 3; frozen.

There, standing right in front of him 3; was Marcus. "No! That's 3; Impossible!" he yelled, shaking his head and trying to turn back towards the where he thought the 'real' kitchen might be. But before he managed to turn around, he felt a sharp pain in his neck, and his legs simply gave out. This was different than the regular shocks for cursing or disobedience. This one sent him down a lot faster and a lot harder. And before he even hit the ground, his mind shut down from the pain, and for the second time in less than 24 hours, the boy lost consciousness.

This time when the boys woke up, they would notice a couple of familiar sensations. First off, their was an IV in their arm, much like the one that they discovered giving them nutrients when they woke up in their room the night before. But they weren't laying on their 'comfortable' beds like they were last night. They didn't have the nice soft white straps securing them. They were seated this time. The chairs felt very similar to the ones that had been held in during their first lesson about sharing. Only these were a lot more secure.

Their gray suits had been completely removed 3; including their underwear, or in Mitch's case 3; diaper. Each boy could feel their skin touching the cold steel of the chairs. By now, it had warmed up slightly just from their body heat, but would still feel cool to them as they regained consciousness. Especially since so much of their bodies was making direct contact with the chairs. A tight leather strap was strapped around both of their ankles and the bottom of each front leg of the chairs. Another was just above their knees, keeping their legs spread slightly. Another strap went down over their laps, another over their bellies, their chests, and finally their necks. Unlike the 'sharing' chairs, their arms were completely secured to the armrests of the chairs this time. Just like their legs, there was a strap at their wrists and elbows, and then the same strap that went over their chests also pulled their upper arms close to their bodies.

But that probably wasn't even the most uncomfortable new sensation the boys would notice as they came to. The worst part was a stinging burning sensation coming from their young cocks. More specifically, coming from within their cocks. It would be hard for them to look down to see what was causing the feeling, but maybe they could see each other's cocks and figure out that theirs was in a similar situation. There was a small plastic tube, running out of their cocks and down under the chair. About three inches [7 cm] from the tip of their penis, there was a little valve and switch on the tube. Those first three inches [7 cm] were filled with a mostly yellow liquid, with just a hint of red in the middle of it. Even 12 year olds could probably figure out that the yellow was urine, but they probably didn't realize that there was a little bit of blood in the tube as well from where the catheter tubes had been inserted. It would have been done professionally and carefully, but there was still going to be a little blood no matter how careful the doctor would have been. That would explain the stinging sensation. And the fact that urine was trying to force its way out, but was being blocked by the valve in the tube would explain the burning.

But still, their troubles didn't end there. It was obvious that the punishment for an escape attempt was going to be quite severe. They were tightly bound on uncomfortable metal chairs, with a catheter in their little penises, and something was in their little asses as well. It wasn't too painful or uncomfortable, but they could both feel something had been forced into their backdoors. It was actually built into the seats they were sitting on. It was a small butt plug, but it also had other features that the boys would be learning about soon enough. Right now, it was only an inch [2½ cm] in diameter at its largest point, and less than half an inch [1 cm] at their actual openings. Then it had a large suction cupped shaped base that was attached to the chair. Thanks to to the lap and belly strap, neither boy could rise up or get off of it, but it wasn't to uncomfortable, just new and likely unsettling for two young boys.

Finally, the last of the new additions that the boys would notice might be something kinda new to Tommy, but somewhat familiar for Mitch. They had both been given a special gag that would completely block any way sound from escaping from their mouths. This wasn't a ball gag or anything like that. It wasn't a typical gag by any measure. It was a special device that was made at this facility. It was basically a large gumball that could be inserted into the boys' mouths, even while they were unconscious. It would melt slightly in their saliva, and then begin to swell, expand, and harden. Eventually, the substance would fill the entire insides of their mouth and harden, making it feel as though the inside of their jaw was filled with a somewhat squishy concrete.

It was about this time that both of them realized what was going on and looked at each other with panic in their eyes. They were only seated about three feet [1 cm] away from one another in the center of a small empty room. It was about the size of their cell, but without any beds or shelves on it. Three walls were covered with the same metallic covering as their room, but one wall was totally white, almost like a movie theater or something. They couldn't see the wall that was behind them, but there were several controls and buttons on it, and it was also where the tubes that ran under their chairs eventually ended up.

The boys were left alone for several minutes, giving them some time to get used to this new situation. Of course, they tugged against their bonds and tried to wiggle their way free. They made faint whining and moaning noises to each other and tried to call out for help. They were apologizing, begging, pleading 3; but all that came out were grunts and whimpers from behind the effective gags. This went on for easily 30-60 minutes, but neither of them had any idea how much time had passed, or even how much time they had been unconscious.

Finally, a door behind them opened, and they tried to turn and see who it was, even though they both could have guessed. It didn't take long for the man to make his way to the front of them and reveal that their guess was correct. It was Marcus. And his normal, professional, almost friendly demeanor was gone this time. He looked quite upset and annoyed. Then again, who wouldn't be after being given a rather powerful shock not so long ago. "You two have been very bad this morning, haven't you?" he asked, obviously not caring to hear a reply, even though both boys were nodding their head, and then shaking them, trying to their best to apologize and get out of whatever punishment was about to come.

"Well, unfortunately, because of your actions, you have missed breakfast, which is why you have been given the nutrient packs instead. You will also be receiving these for lunch and dinner. Yes, that means you are going to be in this room all day. Because of your bad decisions and your actions, your lesson will be a lot longer than normal and much more 3; intense," he said, pausing for a moment while trying to come up with the best word to describe what they were about to go through.

"You will still be learning the same thing you would have learned if you had made better choices and behaved, but in order to make sure that this lesson really sticks, you are getting the advanced course. It is quite appropriate that today's course is about obedience, since you two could really have used some of that this morning. Am I right?" Again, he didn't want an answer. He was just rubbing it in that all of this was their own fault.

"The good news is 3; we won't need to take any breaks during our lesson for stuff like bathroom time, or meal time. I'm sure you've noticed that your little bladders have already been hooked to something called a catheter. Basically, once I turn that little switch on those tubes, you will not have any choice but to empty your urine into them. Those tubes are hooked directly to a pump that will empty into the drains on the other side of the room behind you. Now you may be asking yourselves, what about number two? I'm glad you asked. Because before our lesson begins, we are going to take care of that need as well," he said, almost sounding giddy about what he was about to force these boys to endure.

The part neither of them knew at the moment, was that the plugs in their butts were also hooked to some tubing under the chair. With just a push of the control panel behind them, those plugs would expand slightly and seal their holes. Then another tap of the screen would send warm soapy water pumping into their little colons and stomachs. Then seal the valve, forcing them to hold it for a period of time, before opening the valve and literally sucking everything out of them. Marcus obviously knew all of this already, and always loved watching young prisoners go through this process. It was fun to watch their little facial expressions as their most intimate processes were done for them by uncaring machines.

"Now then 3; if there are no questions 3; let's begin," the man paused for a moment, as if waiting for the kids to ask anything they wanted to ask, but all he could hear were the panicked grunts and moans coming from the two, so he shrugged and continued. "None? Alright then," he then made his way behind them to the the control panel on the wall and tapped the screen a few times. The grunts became a little louder and both boys struggled against the straps holding them in their seats as they felt the plugs in the asses grow in size. Marcus didn't want to do any permanent physical damage to them, so he stopped when the internal sensors showed that the pressure was high enough to form a successful seal, stopping any fluids from leaking.

"Now 3; let's clean out those little hineys of yours," he said, before tapping the screen again. The grunts became a lot more high pitched as both of the boys' eyes widened and they looked at each other. It was obvious that they were both feeling the same thing 3; something going into the hole that they thought was only meant for something to come out of. It was startling to say the least, but not exactly painful 3; yet. Again, they wiggled and struggled against the leather straps as they felt their bodies slowly beginning to fill with the soapy substance. It felt like it was itching their insides, but they were helpless to scratch it or relieve it in any way. This lasted for a little over a minute, then the real discomfort started. It just kept flowing, filling them more and more. They felt like their insides were going to explode at any second.

Again, Marcus could watch the pressure on a monitor, and knew exactly when to stop the flow to make sure no real damage was done. And did exactly that after about 2 quarts [~2 liters] of the fluid had made its way into the boys. He then sealed the valve on the tubes and made his way back to the front of the boys. "This is the first part of your punishment. You are going to hold this fluid in your little bodies for 30 minutes. It is not going to be fun for you. But it won't kill you or anything like that. In fact, this is good for you. The soap in the fluid kills any germs inside your body and can keep you from getting sick. But, it will hurt because your body is going to try very hard to get it out. But it won't be able to, not with those plugs inside of you. The only way it comes out is if I let it. So 3; for the next 30 minutes, I want you to sit here and think about what you have done this morning. If you look truly sorry when I return, I will think about letting it all out. Deal?" The man said with a somewhat sadistic smile on his face.

Both boys eagerly nodded, already looking convincingly regretful for their decisions this morning. More so, Tommy than Mitch. He felt terrible. It had been his idea in the first place. He had been the one to convince Mitch to try, and now they were both being put through this torture because of it. The man gave them each a demeaning pat on the head and then left the room, leaving them to feel the growing cramps, burning, itching, and pressure of the fluid trapped within their digestive system.

The boys would take turns groaning as loudly as the gags would allow. Their arms constantly fought the straps. They wanted so badly to just wrap those arms around the guts, but were unable to do anything to relieve the discomfort they were feeling. Sweat began to form on their brows as their bodies fought harder and harder to expel the liquid. At one point, it even felt like it was moving up into their chest and that they might vomit it out, but Marcus had been careful not to fill them to that point. He was smart enough to know that forcing vomit up to a gagged mouth was not a good idea. But to the boys, it felt like that could happen at any moment. Eventually, all of the fight was gone from the kids, and all they could do was let their heads hang in defeat and deal with the growing pain.

By the time Marcus returned, there were tear streaks coming down both of the boy's faces. They didn't move. It felt like everything inside of them was too sore to even try to move. He made his way back to the front of them and cleared his throat, getting them to look up at him weakly. "Well 3; are we sorry?" he asked, causing both boys to slowly nod their heads. It was obvious they were sincere and would literally do pretty much anything to get the man to release the pressure inside of them. Marcus thought about making them endure another half an hour like this, but even he had a bit of heart to him and couldn't refuse those pathetic looks. "Ok. Are you two ready to 'obey'?" he asked, moving a bit closer to them and kneeling down a little bit.

This time they nodded their heads a little harder, pleading the man with their eyes to let them relieve themselves somehow. "Good!" Marcus said, twisting the valves on their catheters, so that the urine could at least begin to flow. Even this small gesture relieved a little bit of the pressure building inside of them, but it was weird to be peeing without really having any control over it. It made the kids' eyes open a bit wide once again as they could feel what was happening but do nothing to stop it. Meanwhile, Marcus had stood back to his feet and was making his way over to the control panel to release the other valve in the tubing coming out of their backsides.

And if urinating without control was a surprise, what happened next was a complete shock to their system. With the plug still swollen inside of them, as soon as the valve was opened, the fluid that had been trapped all began to rush out whether they tried pushing with their muscles or not. It felt like their outsides were just being sucked out. At first, it was a bit of a relief and actually felt good, but as it kept going, they felt more and more violated and exhausted by the amount of energy being sucked out with all that fluid. Their insides felt completely empty, giving them a sick, hungry, nauseous feeling all at the same time. Once again, their heads hung down to their chest and they just took big breaths in through their noses. Once the fluid was all the way out, the plugs shrank slightly. They were still inside the boys, but not as large as they were during the enema session.

Marcus returned to the front of the boys again, and this time had two items in his hands. They looked almost like swimming goggles, but they were a little more hi-tech. Like a cross between 3D glasses, goggles, and smart glasses that interact with smartphones. They had an elastic strap that was obviously made to go around the head, two large plastic/glass domes that would fit around the eyes and two small quarter sized sections that would press into the head, just behind the eyes. He went to work immediately, fitting the first one on Tommy and positioning everything so it was tight, but not so tight that it hurt or cut off circulation. He did the same to Mitch and then took his place in front of them again.

With the domes over their eyes, it fave everything a strange 3D fish bowl look. Even the man in front of them looked a bit distorted and even though he was standing completely still, it felt like his body was moving in strange waves, up and down, and left and right. It was a little trippy.

"Now then, boys 3; it is time for your lesson to begin. You might actually enjoy this a little bit. It's a movie 3; sorta. Once I step out of the room, the lights will dim and images will be displayed in front of you. It is important for you to keep your eyes open and watch everything that happens in front of you. The reason this is the advanced lesson is because it is guaranteed to make you obey after you watch it. It will literally reprogram your mind so you will have no other choice, but to obey," the man said, not even hiding the fact that the kids were about to watch a hypnotic/subliminal/brainwashing video. They both realized what he was saying and began to shake their heads back and forth slowly, as if trying to give the cliche 3; "You can't do this!" argument. But they couldn't say it. They couldn't take the goggles off, and they couldn't leave the room. And just as it dawned on them the only course of action they could take, Marcus continued and they learned that they wouldn't even be able to do that.

"Now, these glasses are very special, not only will they make the video more realistic and three dimensional, they will also watch your eyes. If you try to look away or keep your eyes closed for more than a 'blink'. You will feel a small shock to the side of your head reminding you to open them back up. As you can imagine, the more times you receive a shock like this, the more powerful it will be. So 3; for the next eight hours or so, you are going to be given a very intensive lesson on obedience. And when you leave here today, I am sure we will never have another incident like we had this morning. Am I right?"

Again the boys shook their heads, but it wasn't in agreement to not trying to escape again. Well, it was, but it was meant to be more begging and pleading to not make them sit through this 'movie' they were about to see. They were whining and pleading desperately through the gags, but it didn't seem to be doing any good. Marcus was already on his way to the door. As promised, the second the door closed behind him, the lights dimmed and a series of projectors and holographic emitters powered on, shooting different colored swirling lights all over the room. A sound system became active, filling the room with a low pulsing hum that seemed to vibrate the boys' minds. And another vibration began, this time coming directly from inside the boys 3; from the plugs that were still lodged in their asses.

They tried to fight it. They tried to close their eyes, but they felt the small shocks to their temples and were forced to open them back up and take in all the visual, auditory, and anal stimulation all at once. Within ten minutes, their mind was lost to the sensations and their reprogramming had already began. By the end of the day, they would be the epitomy of 'obedience'. Leaving them with only one lesson to learn tomorrow.

Don't worry, in Chapter 8, their will be some verification that their obedience training worked, but didn't want to make this chapter 'too' long. So wanted to end it here for now.

Chapter 8
Day 4 PM

So I went a little out of my comfort zone for Chapter 8. I went back and forth several times on how Marcus was going to test the obedience programming. I thought this was the next logical progression for an erotic shota story. I'm not a huge fan of what happens in this chapter, but I thought most of the readers would enjoy it. Honestly, I feel a little dirty after writing it. But it's fantasy, and I wanted to include some other's fantasies and not just my own. Enjoy it!

The boys didn't know if it had been eight minutes or eight hours since the obedience training had begun. Their minds couldn't focus on something like time. They couldn't focus on anything, other than the variety of stimuli being thrown at them from every direction. They were mesmerized by the colors, the sounds the 3D graphics, the videos, the voices. They didn't even notice when the machines attached to their little cocks and anuses came to life again at the halfway point, forcing them to empty their bladders and bowels once again. They didn't realize that their eyes would go several minutes at a time without blinking. The goggles over their eyes helped keep the air out, so even though they needed to blink some, it wasn't nearly as often as normal.

There were no blatant messages that they could comprehend, no "relax 3; go deeper 3;". Nothing like that. There weren't even commands like "Obey 3; Submit 3; blah blah blah." This wasn't hypnosis like you can find on YouTube or on the internet. This was reprogramming 3; coding 3; as if their minds were being recoded by the bright bursts of lights and sounds. But after several hours, just as suddenly as it began 3; it ended. They went from over-stimulation to no stimulation. All of the effects stopped and the room simply went back to normal. Even the thing in their asses deflated and the straps from the chairs detached, freeing them from the seat.

But neither boy moved at first. They just sat there, staring straight ahead as if they were still watching a video. It took a full ten minutes before Mitch finally looked down and noticed his arms were free. He quickly removed the goggles from his face and closed his eyes tightly several seconds then reopened them. He shook his head and tried to stand up, but stopped for a moment as he felt the nozzle slowly being pulled from his ass. He grunted into the gag, which he noticed was softer and a bit more gummy than it had been when the programming began. He pushed down on it with his teeth and noticed that it squished. It took a bit of work, but he eventually was able to push it out of his mouth with the help of his tongue. And after trying a second time, he was able to stand and evacuate the plug from his butt. He stood a bit uneasy, still with a tube stuck in his little penis and an IV stuck in his arm. But he didn't care about that. He wanted to get to Tommy and check on him.

The tubes reached far enough for him to take a couple of steps and begin to help his brother up. "Bro 3; you ok?" He asked, taking the goggles off and giving Tommy a couple of light slaps to the side of his face. "Come on 3; snap out of it." He said, noticing that Tommy still had the same dazed and confused look on his face. Eventually the younger boy's eyes seemed to focus and with Mitch's help, he was able to free himself from the chair and stand up. "Do you think 3; I mean 3; should we try and pull these things out, or just 3; wait for Marcus or something?" Mitch asked, gently tugging on the IV and catheter tubes.

Tommy hadn't quite managed to spit out the gag in his own mouth, so he couldn't answer out loud anyway, but luckily, he didn't have to, because the door to the room opened and Marcus entered. It was almost as if just mentioning his name caused him to appear. "Ah. I see you two are all finished with your training. How do you feel?"

Mitch could feel a bit of anger building up in him and he wanted to tell the man exactly how he felt about being violated in such ways, but he couldn't do it. The collar was enough of a reminder to keep his words in check and answer the 'polite' way. "We are ok. Just tired, sir. Please 3; we're really sorry for what we did this morning. Can we just 3; go to our room or something. Please, sir?" Mitch said, swallowing his pride and trying to make this 4th day come to an end. By now Tommy had finally worked his gag out, but he didn't bother answering. He just echoed Mitch's sentiments with a nod of his head and a pathetic little look up at the man.

"Unfortunately, not yet. You have had your training for the day, but have not yet had the punishment you deserve for your actions this morning. It seems that electro shocks are no longer enough. And even spanking and bondage doesn't seem to be doing the trick." Marcus said, as if he was just talking to himself and not really to them. "In fact 3;" he stopped and lifted his arm with the control device up. Both boys tensed up as he brought his finger down and tapped the device. But they received a different type of shock than what they were used to. It was a pleasant surprise when both collars made a loud click and separated at the back of their neck. They simply hung loosely around the boy's neck, able to be removed for the first time since they had first noticed they were there.

The boys seemed hesitant to remove them at first. This had to be some sort of trick. Usually Tommy was the one that would think things over more and come to a careful decision, but this time, he was the first to act. He quickly raised his hands up to the now open device and removed it, throwing it to the ground with disgust, glad that it was no longer touching his skin. "Tommy!" Mitch yelled, expecting to see his brother punished in some way. But when nothing happened, the slightly older twin took his own collar off and laid it down on the floor with a bit more care. Then he looked up at Marcus, obviously confused.

"You see 3; we don't need those any more. Your training is almost complete and I am sure you are not going to try to do anything else against the rules ever again. Am I right?" Marcus said, seeming more confident that the boys' training had worked than he probably should have been.

Mitch still seemed unsure for a moment, but he did nod and then looked at Tommy and gave him a somewhat mischievous smile. They were free now. Nothing was stopping them from jumping Marcus, finding the keys or whatever to get out of this place and finish the escape they didn't accomplish this morning. Of course, they were only one day away from being released so there was no point in ruining that right now 3; and they still had tubes in their cocks, so they should probably at least wait for those to be removed.

Over the next couple of minutes, that's what happened. The catheter and IV lines were removed. Both boys moaned as the tube was pulled from their cocks, but they were glad to have them out, even if it left a burn for a little while. "Can we have our clothes back now?" Mitch said, purposely forgetting the 'sir', since the collar couldn't correct him anymore. It was a small test, but no one seemed to notice that it was missing.

"Not yet. As I said before 3; we still need to have your punishment." Marcus responded, moving to the center of the room. "Only this time 3; Mitch is going to give Tommy HIS punishment. Then 3; we will switch and Tommy will give Mitch HIS punishment. So Tommy 3; why don't you step up first. I want you to get down on your hands and knees right in front of me, like you are about to get a spanking. And Mitch 3; I want you to stand right beside me, facing your brother." He said.

Both of the kids looked at each other, then back at Marcus. Then at each other again. Finally Mitc broke the awkward silence and shook his head. "Not going to happen. I'm not punishing Tommy. If you want to punish us, do it yourself, asshole!" The boy obviously decided to take it a step further this time. Not only did he not call Marcus, sir, but he went straight back to his normal impolite language, feeling a renewed courage now that the collar was removed.

"Mitch 3; just 3; do it." Tommy whined. He knew better. Something wasn't right. Marcus was far too confident. He didn't know what it was, but something bad was about to happen, and with or without the collar, this man had more control of them than they realized. And that was precisely why Tommy was already moving to his spot, getting down on all fours and preparing for what he assumed was going to be a spanking.

"What can he do, Tommy? He doesn't have the collars anymore. He can't just shock us whenever he wants. If we wanted to, we could simply jump him and kick his ass and make him regret all the terrible things he's done to us over the past few days. And so what if he takes us back to the judge. After we tell them what he did to us, we'll be set free, and he'll be the one in jail!" Mitch said, now almost yelling as he stepped closer and closer to Marcus, honestly thinking about kicking the man full force in his nuts, so he could get just a taste of what those shocks felt like yesterday. Or maybe wrapping his hands around the man's throat and letting him experience a bit of breathlessness. Hell, he could even grab one of the collars and force it on the man's throat and get a hold of that device on his arm and shock the living daylights out of him. Mitch's face was getting redder and redder as he got closer to the man.

"Mitch 3; *snap* Freeze". The man said, snapping his fingers at the same time he said the word. And just like that, the older of the two twins felt every muscle in his body lock up and he came to a sudden and complete stop. The only thing he could move was his eyes, which were opened wide and staring right at the man. "Good boy. So obedient. Now 3; we are going to try this again. *snap* Stand beside me and turn and face your brother."

Mitch's body was no longer his own. His mind was still clear, and he could think normally, but he couldn't stop himself from turning and taking his place right next to the man, facing his brother who was still on all fours in front of him. "What 3; what 3;". Mitch could speak, but he couldn't even figure out what to ask. This couldn't be happening. How did the man do that? He didn't want to be standing here, but he couldn't make himself move. He was just stuck.

"You see 3; for now on, when anyone in a place of authority over you snaps their fingers and gives you a command, your new programming will take over. You have been deemed no longer capable of following rules on your own, so those in authority in your life need to 'make' you obey. Now 3; you are going to punish Tommy for trying to escape whether you like it or not. And then, you will take your place on the floor and allow him to punish you. Do you understand?" Marcus said, taking a step back and positioning himself in between the two boys, but a couple of feet away, so Mitch had a clear view of his brother in front of him. "Now, Mitch *snap* I want you to take a hold of your little penis and start masturbating. I know you know how to do that. Tommy, *snap* you need to watch."

Mitch felt his face burning as he tried with all of his might to not do what the man said, but he couldn't stop himself. His hands already were reaching down and taking a hold of his still sore little member. He began to gently stroke it while still shaking his head. "Why 3; why are you doing this? You 3; pervert!" Mitch whined, all the while, his little cock was starting to get harder and harder in his hands.

"Because, you both need to be punished for your actions. It was your choices that pushed me this far. And your actions that have produced theses consequences." Marcus said, as Mitch continued to tug his little pole and Tommy just turned back and watched, still having no idea what was about to happen. When Mitch's penis was at its full erection, Marcus snapped his fingers again and told the boy to stop. He then knelt down between the two of them and pulled a small vial out of his pocket and poured a little bit of the slick liquid onto Mitch's now erect cock, and a bit more on Tommy's exposed hole. "Now 3; Mitchell 3; I want you to stick your little cock into your little brother 3; and as you would normally eloquently put it 3; *snap* fuck him!"

Mitch's eyes grew large once again, but not as large as Tommy's when he heard this. "What!? Please 3; no!" Mitch whined as he took a step forward with no control of his own body and began to position himself to do exactly as the man had ordered. Tommy wasn't under Marcus's control at the moment and had no problem crawling a few feet forward, trying to get away from Mitch, but one snap later and he was told to stay in position. "Please 3; don't make me do this. I'm sorry. Sir. Please. We're sorry!" Mitch whined, now fully in tears as the head of his cock pressed against his brother's hole.

Luckily the lube that Marcus had applied would make its entry rather painless. It also helped that they had had plugs in their asses for the last several hours. This wasn't so much meant to hurt them physically, as it was hurt them mentally. It was one of the worst punishments that the program used to rehabilitate serial offenders. And between the two of them, Mitch and Tommy had violated almost every rule at the S.P.O.I.L. Program.

Both boys were completely in tears as Mitch finally pushed his little cock into Tommy's hole and began to thrust his body back and forth, involuntarily raping his twin brother. "Please 3; make it stop! We will be good! I Swear!" Tommy whined, as his body moved forward and backwards under the force of Mitch's motions.

Mitch hadn't said a word sense he entered. His body was no longer his, but his mind could still feel the pleasure that his brother's warm hole was giving his little cock. He bit his lips not wanting the sound to come out, but it was just a natural response to his actions, and he couldn't stop it as a small moan of pleasure escaped his lips and he began to thrust a bit faster. The rhythm and intensity picked up, and Mitch could no longer tell if it was the programmed command, or his body's own need to complete what it had began. He almost even thought it was his own mind telling him to keep going. Even if Marcus told him to stop, he wasn't sure if he could at this point. He was so close. He didn't even care that it was his brother. This was something he had never felt before, and it felt 3; good. He moaned even louder and gave one final thrust as he felt his cock explode and a small squirt of cum filled his brothers anal cavity.

"Good boy. You may *snap* stop now." Marcus said, forcing Mitch to freeze in place once again. "Go ahead 3; *snap* pull out and go back to normal." He ordered, allowing Mitch to take a step back and pull himself out of his brother's hole.

He was still in a state of sexual bliss. Not even realizing what he had done, but after the fog began to left, he fell back onto his butt on the ground and then quickly crawled up to his bawling little brother. "Tommy! Tommy! Are you ok?! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, buddy! He 3; He made me!" Mitch cried, pulling Tommy into him and hugging his brother. "You monster!" Mitch whined, turning back at Marcus. "We're going to tell my parents. You're going to go to jail for this!"

"That might be very true, but not before you get your punishment as well." He said, snapping his fingers once again. "Boys, switch places." He ordered, and again, he boys' bodies went into auto-pilot and Tommy stood to his wobbly legs and took position behind Mitch, while the other boy, still in tears was forced to take position on all fours and await his turn. "Now, since Mitch has been a little disrespectful and forgotten about being polite 3; I think he has lost his lube privileges." The man announced.

This didn't really mean much to either boy. They didn't know what the lube had been for before. But Tommy would have been very grateful if he knew what the alternative would have been. Unfortunately, Mitch was about to learn once again how much trouble his mouth had gotten him into.

The same commands were given, each accompanied by a snap of the fingers, as Tommy began to masturbate and get hard, and Mitch was forced to hold his position as his younger brother began to penetrate his young virgin hole. It was at this point that the older boy began to feel the painful friction of his brother's cock sliding into his tight hole. It burned as it slid in, and burned again as it slid out. There was a bit of pleasure from it, but mostly pain, causing the older boy to cry out and whine as he was raped.

"Please! It hurts!" He yelled back at Tommy, who already felt bad enough for what he was doing. Which was made evident by the tears streaming down his eyes. He couldn't even return his brother's look. He just tried to look at the floor as he continued to thrust in and out, quickly bringing himself to a rather strong climax just as Mitch had done a few moments before.

When it was all over, the boys were given a few minutes to just lay there and let out all their tears. It was definitely the most effective punishment they had received to date. They knew they had lost and had learned their lesson. They had no thoughts of escaping, or attacking Marcus, or attempting to break any rule ever again, whether here in the program or at home, school, the park 3; anywhere. They were left on the floor, a broken mess for several minutes, before Marcus tossed them two new outfits in plastic bags and told them to get dressed. "Time to head back to your room. One more day remaining. Tomorrow afternoon, you get to go home." He said, bending down to help both the boys up to their feet.

"Are we going to be obedient for now on?" He asked as the boys began to get dressed.

"Yes, sir." They both politely responded, not making eye contact with them or each other.