Juvenile Reentry

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Juvenile Reentry
The house at the end of the street was a two-story farmhouse-style home with white siding and burgundy shutters. It had a covered porch that wrapped around close to three-quarters of the house. It was owned by Renaissance Foster Solutions, LLC which was run by Mona Watford and Rosalind Person.

Mona and Rosalind had been together for 19 years and married for two. Mona worked as marriage and family ther****t. Rosalind, a former retail store manager, now ran the home that served foster c***dren – specifically juvenile offenders reentering society.

Mona and Rosalind had six beds available for those needing housing. At the moment there were five boys staying with them three Black, one White, and one American Indian. A new resident was set to arrive today.

The juvenile parole officer pulled up in a government sedan. The man walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Mona answered.

“Hey, Chad,” the group home proprietor greeted the man she knew well.
“Hi, Mona! This is Cortez,” the white man said.
“Hello, Cortez! Welcome!”
“Hey,” the husky, brown-skinned dude chimed in dryly.
“I’m glad you’re here,” the woman with the pulled up Afro puff pony.

The probation officer handed off his parolee to Mona.

Mona showed Cortez the house. They walked up the stairs. “Up here is where you’ll sleep. There’s a loft right here with a TV and Xbox. You all have to share. There’s also a computer you can use for school work and things. You’ll be in this bedroom over here,” she stated. “This room room has its own bathroom. You’re roommate will be Zain. He’s a real nice k**. He’s 11.”

The juvenile offender who was just coming from the state detention center looked at his new digs. It had a black metal twin-over-twin bunk bed. There were two dressers and two writing desks with chairs. Plus, there was an average size closet.

“This straight,” remarked the guy with a rap sheet including offenses with theft, school discipline, and vandalism.
“We want this to be a safe place for everyone. We don’t require that you attend church, but we do go to church. We encourage you to find some sort of faith outlet of your own choosing.”
“Dat’s wassup,” replied the 17 year-old.
“Are you hungry?”
“Well, put away your clothes in this dresser or hang them in the closet. Come downstairs and I’ll make something for you to eat. Will a sandwich be okay?”
“That’ll work,” Cortez said.

The new resident unpacked his duffel bag.

Mona was just completing the snack for Cortez when he came into the kitchen. She placed the grilled cheese with oven-roasted Great Value turkey deli meat and Fuji apple slices onto a paper plate. She added some Pringles and a few raw carrots.

“This smells good,” remarked Cortez.
“Have a seat. Eat up!”

Cortez killed the hulking sandwich.

Mona ran through a few more rules. “We try to make sure you guys have plenty of food. canlı bahis You can help yourself to what’s in the fridge anytime. There are also healthy snacks in the pantry. We only ask that you take what you’re going to eat at that moment. So like a reasonable amount first. If you need more, come back and get another reasonable portion.”

“Okay, Miss Mona,” Cortez confirmed.
“We have a cell phone you can use if you want as well.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. They’re through a prepaid service. You can have it during the day, but we expect them all to be turned in by 8:00 p.m. every night.”
“Y’all got a nice set up here. Can I ask you a question?”
“You just did,” the woman laughed. “What do you wanna know?”

“Did you go to college, Miss Mona?”
“I did! I studied elementary education.”
“But you don’t teach?”
“I was a teacher for a few years, but I didn’t like it. I left and went into retail store management.”
“That’s what’s up!”
“What do you wanna do?”
“I don’t like school. It ain’t for me. I wanna do sum with electronics.”
“Well, there’s all kinds of options, Cortez. I’ll let you talk some with Rosalind later.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Dinner is at 6:30. The menu is posted on that board over there.”

Cortez cleaned up after himself.

The other boys made it home from school.

Cortez’s roommate entered the bedroom and sat at his desk. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Zain!”
“I’m Cortez. How you doin’ li’l man?”
“I’m fine. School was good.”
“No offense fah real, but you been in juvie?”
“No I haven’t. I’m just very feminine and no family wants to keep me. Miss Rosalind and Miss Mona took me in.”
“Dat’s fucked up people be actin’ like dat, yo!”
“Yeah! But I really like it here!”
“Yeah Miss Mona seem cool.”
“They both are!”

Zain completed his homework.

All of the residents were at the table for dinner. Tonight Miss Mona served a baked ziti with tomato sauce, cheese, and ground chicken. Renaissance Foster Solutions did not serve pork or beef. The boys tore up the pan of food. There was also house salad with Italian dressing.

Tonight, Room One was set to clean up after the meal. The white dude, Evan Foote, and the Black teen, Jaydon Cobb cleared the dishes and straightened up.

The others went upstairs to finish homework and get ready for bed.

Miss Rosalind said, “Cortez. Come chat with me.”

They walked out back. The ther****t took a drag from her vape pen.

“You doing okay,” Rosalind asked.
“Yeah! I’m good,” Cortez intimated.
“Good. We’re glad you’re here!”
“This is the start of the rest of your life.”
“You think?”
“Yes, sir! Miss Mona told me you’re very smart and well-mannered. I looked at your aptitude tests too.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You’re brilliant. What do you really want to do in life.”
“I wanna do some robotics or some shit. Fuck. My bad! Sorry!”
“You’re okay. Try to chill with the language though.”
“Yes, ma’am!”

“Don’t think I’m mad, Cortez. We’re bahis siteleri here to help you,” Rosalind said.
“I’ve been thinking about something new. I think it might work for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Letting guys that are over 16 get their G.E.D. and then helping them get a trade.”
“Now, dat’s wassup,” smiled the juvenile offender.
“You seem like a prime candidate. Are you interested?”
“Yes, ma’am! Fah real fah real!”
“We’ll figure it out then,” Rosalind promised.

Cortez went upstairs. Three of the boys were watching a show on the donated 43-inch TV. He went into his new bedroom. He heard the shower running. He climbed onto the top bunk. The water shut off. Zain walked out.

He was drying his small, mocha body. Cortez looked at the hairless, dripping wet p*****n.

“You always walk around naked an’ shit,” Cortez asked.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Zain begged forgiveness.
“You straight, li’l dude!”

Saturday morning came and the boys were up doing chores at 6:30 a.m. Miss Rosalind served a chilaquiles with tortilla chips, poached eggs, and turkey sausage.

Cortez said he wanted to go to church. He and Rosalind discussed. Through the conversation she figured she would contact her brother, Roderick. He was a deacon at an apostolic church.

The next day, Cortez was picked up by the Emmanuel Holiness Church van. The house of worship was pretty patriarchal. But, it seemed to inspire Cortez.

Rosalind helped get Cortez signed up for the G.E.D. during the next week.

Cortez sneaked out one night. He smoked synthetic weed with some others dudes from the neighborhood. He came back in the house. He was hyperactive walking around the bedroom. He saw Zain lying there on the bottom bunk.

The eleven-year-old’s sweet, bubble was sticking out from under the covers.

Cortez crawled up next to Zain. His hard, eight-inch dick was itching. He caressed the femboi. He pressed his cock next to Zain’s hole.

Zain woke up. “Oh, Cortez!”
“Oh shit!”
“It’s okay! I like you,” the peanut butter colored boi said.
“Fah real?”
“Yes, sir!”

Zain maneuvered down and put the older boy’s dick in his mouth.

“Oh, Zain! Suck dis dick,” whispered Cortez.

Cortez went inside Zain’s tight young poop shoot.

“Fuck me,” Zain cried.
“Yeah, faggit! Dis pussy squeezin’ mah dick!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Dis young boipussy da truth, yo!”
“Oh my god!”

Cortez nutted eventually.

Things progressed. The State allowed Cortez to stay at Renaissance Foster Service through his 19th birthday. He was fucking Zain nearly every night.

Cortez passed the G.E.D. and enrolled at a technical college. He undertook a certificate course of study in industrial electronics.

Cortez worked part-time at a diner. He bought panties for Zain.

One night the food prep worker gave the young sissy a pair of purple lace boyshorts. “Put these on,” Cortez said.

“They’re great,” replied Zain.

After sucking canlı bahis siteleri Cortez’s delicious cock, Zain bent over.

“Fuck me, nigga,” Zain begged.
“Yeah, bitch boi,” Cortez celebrated.
“Oh my god!”
“Take dis dick, faggit!”
“Oh yeah! I love your big dick, daddy!”
“Hell yeah, punk ass bitch!”

Rosalind’s brother, Roderick, had helped inundate Cortez and his understanding of being a total man and owning the earth a Black stallion. He also rented out a room in a single wide trailer to Cortez while he completed his education.

Cortez fucked Zain every chance he got. He got a nice, but ghetto chick pregnant during that time too.

Now, Cortez was working as a robotics tech at a manufacturing company. His pay was almost $28 per hour. He was 21 years old at this point.

Cortez looked to Deacon Roderick Person for inspiration.

Deacon Person was living with a effeminate dude called Kiho.

Roderick and Kiho were lovers.

Roderick was 59 years old. Kiho was 40. They were fucking like rabbits. Both had been in the state penal system and were intertwined in love now.

Cortez purchased a house. It was his first, but not going to be his last. It was a used sixteen-foot-by-sixty-foot manufactured home with two bedrooms and two bathroom.

Zain came over the very first day. He was 15 year old now. Rosalind and Mona believed Cortez to be an upstanding citizen.

Zain sucked Cortez’s dick

Cortez face fucked the younger dude.

Cortez bent him over the king size bed.

“Take dis dick, sissy,” howled Cortez.

They fucked repeatedly that day,

“You wanna come live wit’ me,” checked Cortez.
“Yes, baby,” admitted Zain.

Cortez got a lawyer. He filed for adoption of Zain Coles.

It progressed through Family Court. Things were finalized.

Zain was 16. Cortez was 22.

Cortez was buying sexy lingerie and panties for Zain on the regular. He had the Zain taking home school courses over the Internet. He was also feeding the sissy boi estrogen pills and testosterone blockers.

Zain’s young ass was getting rounder. His titties were starting to bud. He was now Zain Parham.

Zain had cooked dinner. It was a stovetop macaroni and cheese dish with grilled chicken strips, onions, and Poblano peppers.

“This shit good,” remarked the industrial electronics genius.
“Thank you,” Zain smiled.

After clearing the dishes, Zain douched.

Cortez led the bottom boi to the bedroom. Zain had on a delectable purple lace thong. Cortez pulled it to the side after Zain sucked his hefty dick.

“Fuck yeah, faggit,” barked Cortez.
“You like this boipussy,” asked Zain.
“Hell yeah, pussyboi!”
“I love you, Daddy!”
“I love you too, adopted son,” the homeowner opined.
“I’m all yours!”

Cortez took Zain into the master bathroom. He bent the bitch over the toilet. “You mah bitch!”

“Yes, daddy! Fuck me,” Zain whined.
“I love fuckin’ yo’ faggit ass!”
“Yeah, bitch ass punk!”
“Give it to me!”

Cortez came. His load was huge.

He peed on Zain and went back to the bed. He laid down and fell asleep.

Zain cleaned up and then joined Cortez. He was looking forward to starting it all over again the next day.

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