Date: Fri, 3 Apr 2009 07:32:08 -0700 (PDT)
From: Beautiful Creamer <beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sissyboy Restitution 4

  Sissyboy Restitution -- Part Four
  By Beautiful Creamer

  One -- Avoiding "Juvie"

  Owen Squishbum and Hayden Seedlove had gone too far this time and they
knew it.

  Every other time the 12-year-old budding felons had pulled one of their
increasingly destructive acts of vandalism that they considered merely a
"prank," they had only been grounded by their parents.  Which left them
free for recidivism.

  But this was different.  This time Owen and Hayden were standing in front
of a judge in Juvenile Court and Judge Hangem was angry.

  "What I should do is send you smart asses to `juvie lockup' for 90 days.
Let you spend a little quality time with a few teenage murderers and other
violent offenders.  And I'm sure Miss Witcher would agree."

  Owen and Hayden stole a glance at Old Lady Witcher and she was nodding
her agreement at the judge.  The boys were trembling badly at the thought
of making actual restitution for their many acts of mischief/vandalism.

  This was all Old Lady Witcher's fault, the two little miscreants agreed.
If she hadn't pressed charges just because the boys had hurled 20 dozen
eggs at her house, none of this would be happening.

  Owen and Hayden were scared poopless about the prospect of 90 days among
gang members and other violent offenders.  Especially because of their
looks.

  The boys were two gorgeous little bundles of boyflesh and they knew it.
Men had let them get away with all kinds of naughtiness all their lives.
Until this time, because their accuser was a woman and so was the judge.

  The boys' daddies had also cut them a lot of slack -- too much.  But that
account seemed to be overdrawn too.

  Juvie lockup terrified the boys!  Those horrible criminals in there would
surely abuse the two angelic imps -- maybe causing disfigurement or
something else bad and permanent!

  It was all Miss Witcher's fault!  And the judge's.

  Still, no sentence had been pronounced yet.

  But here it came.

  Or not. The judge seemed to be considering things.  Were they about to
"get over" on the system yet again?  Be set free?  Of so, Old lady Witcher
was in for a bad time of it.

  Then the judge said, oddly, "Turn around, boys."

  Puzzled, the boys did as they were told.  Showing their cute butts to the
judge.  Who said, "OK, face me again.  Owen Squishbum and Hayden Seedlove,
you two richly deserve 90 days in juvie lockup.  More if the law allowed
it.  But I'm concerned about your survival there.  So, instead, you'll make
restitution through 120 hours of community service each.  At the Rubbum
Rehabilitation Institute.  You'll work hard there and I'm pretty sure it
will turn you around.  If I hear that you're late for work, don't do your
jobs or disobey your supervisors at the Institute, you'll be off to juvie
lockup for a full 90 days.  Got it?"

  Owen and Hayden stumbled all over themselves to thank the judge for her
leniency.

  Then each began to think about how they could work the system at Rubbum.
Emptying bedpans was not in their plans.  They would be "working the men"
there -- smiling at them -- being all sweetie-pie.  That always worked!

  Little did they know that there were no bedpans in their future at
Rubbum.  But for once, the system had caught up with them.


  Two -- Welcome to Rubbum Rehabilitation Institute

  Rubbum Rehabilitation Institute served the needs of men -- only men --
who were recovering from serious injury or surgery.  It was the brainchild
of Dr. Phineas Rubbum, whose son Charles now ran the place with efficiency,
innovation and a strong bottom line.

  Owen and Hayden showed up for their first day of community service
looking for a man to charm so they could goldbrick somewhere for an hour or
so, then call it a day.

  That didn't happen.

  Dr. Charles Rubbum himself welcomed the boys to the clinic, but seemed
impervious to their puerile charms.  Yet, the boys knew that the boss man
wouldn't be supervising them, so they had a second chance at making a
"useful friend."

  But things didn't go quite as they had imagined.

  Not at all.

  "Owen, Hayden, this is your supervisor for your community service -- Andy
Analio.  Andy is our chief of volunteers and he speaks not only for me, but
for the judge who sentenced you.  One bad report from Andy about either of
you and you're both off to juvie lockup for 90 days.  Am I clear?"

  Owen and Hayden looked at Andy and thought Dr. Rubbum was joking.  Andy
was a boy -- 14 years old at the most.  And he was as pretty as they were.
It was insanity.  For lots of reasons.

  How could a boy that young he be their supervisor, with such power over
their future safety?

  Why was he wearing only bridal-white, satin, French knickers with wide,
lace-trimmed legs?

  And why had he handed Owen and Hayden a similar pair of panties just as
Dr. Rubbum was leaving the room?

  "Good morning, boys.  Welcome to the Institute," Andy said.  "You'll be
performing a vital rehabilitation service for men who really need it.  The
program, which Dr. Rubbum calls `sissyboy therapy,' has been wildly
successful, both medically and financially.  Follow me and I'll show you
your part in the therapy."

  Knowing the threat if they disobeyed this "walking, talking brochure for
the Institute," the boys followed Andy.  Watching his bum sway in those
very cute panties, which even the boys noticed were so wide-legged as to
allow naughty hands to slip inside and "handle one's boy's things" without
having to take the knickers down.

  A disgusting thought.

  Owen and Hayden loved "charming" men, but they would NEVER let a man
touch them!  Icky bad.  Gay!!

  Andy took the startled boys into an empty patient room, then said, "All
right then.  Off with your clothes and into your panties."

  Owen and Hayden couldn't!  They wouldn't!

  But they had to.  Or that gay, little, panty Nazi Andy would narc them
out and they'd be each be sharing a cell with someone with lots of tatoos.

  Trembling with fear and a certain smidgie of excitement, Owen and Hayden
stripped to a lovely buff.  Neither had ever seen his friend naked before.
And they didn't see each other then.

  The boys' eyes were downcast during the entire strip-without-tease.

  But Andy's eyes drank in the lovely sight of two lovely, virginal
rascals.  Like other mischief makers carefully selected and assigned to
Rubbum by Judge Greta Hangem, these boys would be well suited for their
tasks.

  Andy got a brief glimpse of Owen's little "tickler" and was glad to see
it was standing tall.  Andy's preliminary estimate was three inches, but he
was pretty sure that he would be able to make a precise estimate before the
week was out. If not sooner.

  Andy was pleased to note that Hayden's pink throbber was a bit longer --
five inches was a good working estimate.  And, like Owen, the prospect of
getting naked then putting on panties had stiffened Hayden quite pertly.

  Andy wished that the scamps had turned around and let Andy get a nice
look at their bums, but he was patient.  And confident.

  Andy handed the embarrassed boys their panties and watched them pull them
up -- quickly.  Then watched them stand there clad only in lacy,
wide-legged knickers -- half humiliated -- half aroused.  A brilliant
condition.

  They looked scrumptious.  And sexually innocent!  Though they were
innocent of little else.

  The patients would love them!

  And it was time to start the love affair.

  "You boys look perfect for your first assignments.  Let me get you going.
Follow me."

  Owen and Hayden looked at each other in horror.  They were getting
assignments?  Dressed like that?  What kind of assignments?  And if they
were following Andy, wouldn't people at the Institute see them in those
horrible, revealing, disgusting panties?!?!?!?!?!

  They couldn't!!

  But then Andy said, "I said, follow me, boys!"

  Juvie lockup loomed.

  Owen and Hayden followed Andy.


  Three -- Meeting the patients.

  "This way, boys," Andy said as he led Owen and Hayden down a long, wide
hallway.

  At first, Owen and Hayden were mortified at the notion of being seen
dressed like dickteasing little sissyboys.  Until they saw everyone else.

  Several pretty boys much like themselves were walking in the hallway.
Walking with a purpose toward definite destinations, but in no hurry.  And
not at all self-consciously.

  Huh?

  Owen and Hayden stared in disbelief at the other little cuties wearing
panties identical to theirs -- in three colors -- white, pink and black.

  The boys wondered vaguely why they and Andy were all wearing white?  Was
there some color code or something?

  No matter.  There were other issues for Owen and Hayden to consider.
Like, why did they have raging erections that were tenting their panties so
obscenely?  And so embarrassingly?

  They were so aroused that the panty tents had disturbed the loose
garments' fit so much that the boys' "goodie bags" were oozing out visibly.

  Why were they so aroused?  The whole thing was so gay.  And they were
definitely not gay.

  Right?

  Andy pulled the little "rookie nookies" out of their reverie when he
said, "OK, for your first assignments, I'll show you what to do, next I'll
supervise your assignments, then you'll be on your own.  Got it?"

  Not really.  What kind of assignments were they?

  They followed Andy into room 1106 and began to find out.

  "Good morning, Coach Jockstretch.  I'm Andy and these are my therapist
trainees Owen and Hayden.  How are you feeling today?"

  The Coach was a very large, but fit man, who was clearly in some pain.
He smiled at the boys in as friendly a manner as he could manage under the
strained circumstances.

  "That knee replacement the day before yesterday was tough, but I'll be
OK.  Seeing you boys is making me feel better already."

  So far so good, Owen and Hayden thought.  Maybe they were just putting on
a "fashion show" for gay hospital patients.  Eye candy.  Though even that
notion discomfited them somewhat.

  Andy was probably just going to let the man look at the three of them,
then everyone would leave the Coach to his pain.  Was it lunch time yet?

  Not exactly.

  "I know you're hurting right now, Coach," Andy said, but is there
anything we can do for you?"

  Owen and Hayden thought that Andy should keep his pretty mouth shut and
take them all to lunch.  Or let them go home for the day, so they could egg
Old Lady Witcher's house again.  Anonymously this time.

  Coach began to shake his head.  Good.  Owen and Hayden eased toward the
door.  But then, Coach said, "Well, since you're here.  And you all look so
sweet and pretty.  Could I get a blow job?"

  What!?!?!?!?!?

  The Coach was a pervert!

  Andy would get them out of there immediately.  The boys were sure of it.
Security would roll Coach's bed out the front door, then dump the gay perv
in a drainage ditch somewhere.

  Andy made the boys feel better when he said, "Now Coach, you know we
can't do that."

  Good so far.  Until Andy added, "Your doctor has only authorized white
panty activities today because of your condition.  When you get a bit
better, a pink pantied boy will come in and suck your cock whenever you
ring your call button.  And, of course, if you work really hard and
rehabilitate, you'll be ready for black-panty activities."

  Icy fear stabbed Owen and Hayden's hearts.

  Was everyone insane?

  Did they expect the boys to "do things" with men?  Sex things?

  And the only choice was between icky perversions or juvie lockup?

  That was way too much restitution.  Far over the line.  No way.

  Was Andy gay???  Had he infected them in some way already?

  Owen and Hayden watched in fascinated terror as Andy leaned over and
kissed the Coach right on the lips, then drew back slightly and said, "On
white-panty days, we can kiss you and stroke you to a nice cum if you like.
And, of course, you're free to feel us up and make us cum with your hand.
They discussed this with you in admissions, I know, but you I guess you
still want to be extra-naughty.  [giggle]."

  Did Andy just giggle?  Like a girl or a creampuffy little sissyboy?

  He did.

  And did Andy pull back the sheet to expose Coach's large, nasty-hard,
thick, drippy, foreskinned cock?

  He did.

  Was Andy pulling Coach's foreskin back and forth as he tongue-kissed the
man's mouth?

  He was.

  !!!!

  Oh the horror!

  Beyond belief.  Except.

  The boys' cocks were still hard.  Harder than before, if that were
possible.

  It's useful to note at this point that Owen and Hayden had used up all of
their excess, boyish energy to this point in their lives on mischief and
general naughtiness.  The notion of sex, other than the odd thought when a
girl looked their way, hadn't yet taken its rightful place in their
consciousness.  They had never oragsmed or even thought much about it --
even how it happens.

  Andy broke his kiss with the Coach, kept stroking, and said, "Owen, you
stand next to me and Hayden, the other side of the bed."  Then Andy said,
to Coach, "You might want to feel them up, Coach. They're new, but they've
wanted to be a man's simpering little sissyboy for a long time."

  Andy was a beast!  Telling filthy lies like that.  Still...they had to do
what he said, didn't they?  So anything "gay" that happened wasn't their
fault.  Right?

  The boys half-reluctantly took their positions.

  And looked shyly at Coach.

  He was a nice-looking man all right.  Very friendly-looking too.  In a
nice-looking way.  Manly too.

  Coach was looking at the boys.  The way a cheetah looks at a gazelle.
But friendly.

  Andy resumed his sweet kisses and sweeter strokes of Coach's XXL Johnson.

  Owen heard Hayden gasp. It appeared that Coach was rubbing Hayden's plump
bum with his large, callused, right hand.  Then Hayden heard Owen gasp.
Coach's left hand was busy, busy too.

  Rubbing their sweet, tender butts.

  Oh.

  That felt kind of nice.

  Very nice.

  And it wasn't their fault.  They were being FORCED!

  Owen gasped louder when Coach slid his hand through Owen's panties' wide
leg opening and felt the boy's bare bottom cheek for the first time --
which wasn't helping Owen's "stiff situation' one bit.

  Hayden was embarrassed that he actually squeaked when Coach not only
found his bare "sweet cheeks," but rubbed the side of his rough hand down
the intimate furrow between the boy's buttocks.

  Wherever it was all going, it seemed to be going there rapidly.  There
didn't seem to be enough air in the room any more.  And why was it so hot
-- the boys were certainly not overdressed.

  It was all way more exciting than it should have been and it seemed to be
"going somewhere."  Somewhere new and unexplored.  And very nice.  Until...

  What was that????

  Coach stopped stroking the two virginal butts and seemed to be
concentrating on his own pleasure. Hayden, who had closed his eyes to enjoy
the sensations Coach was giving him, opened them just in time to witness
what he could only call "a miracle."

  Coach Jockstretch's cock was shooting thick ropes of something that
looked nothing like the yellow stream the boys had emitted from their own
cocks all their lives.  It was creamy and beigey.  And the man enjoyed
shooting it very much.  He was grunting in some sort of pleasant agony as
Andy milked six successive spurts out of the manly patient's thick prick --
then continued his deft cockhandling as the Coach oozed out a few more
creamy drops.

  What had just happened?

  Why did Coach enjoy it so much?

  And why did it make Owen and Hayden tingle with fear as they trembled
with undefined lust?

  The boys were confident that Andy would tell them.  Just as soon as he
finished kissing the Coach's lips through the aftershocks of his
whatever-that-was.

  Andy finally looked up and surveyed his handiwork.  "I think you needed
that, Coach.  Do you feel better now?"

  Coach smiled, nodded and drifted right off to sleep.  An act men have
been known to perform after a large orgasm, but even more common at a place
like Rubbum, where sedatives and painkillers abounded.

  Still, a ball-drainer of a cum beats a sedative drip any old day, as
Dr. Rubbum always said.

  Andy said, "If we were wearing pink panties today, we would tidy Coach up
quite differently, but Hayden, just hand me those paper towels."

  Hayden did so and the boys watched Andy sop up the ubiquitous man's
cream, toss it into the trash and lead them out of the sleeping man's room.

  In the hallway, Andy asked, "Any questions?"

  Owen said, "What happened?  What was that?"

  Andy smiled.  "Sissyboy therapy.  An incentive for the men to work hard
at physical therapy, because if their therapist approves, they get rewarded
with, well, us."

  Hayden asked, "You really expect us to do that?  Rub a man's thing like
that and make that...that stuff come out?"

  "You'll do that and much more if you want to stay out of juvie.  And by
the looks on your faces when Coach was stroking your butts, well, I know
you enjoyed it.  I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy it all.

  "Let's see.  Room 1109 is next for white-panty treatment.  Let's go."

  The terrified boys went.  And entered the room of an older man -- maybe
60 -- but very trim and fit.

  "Good morning, Tony," Andy said.  "How are you today?"

  Tony smiled.  He had clearly been looking forward to Andy's visit.  "I'm
feeling better, thanks, Andy.  Dr. Rubbum says I'll be at pink-panty level
tomorrow."

  "That's great, Tony.  As I told you yesterday, we have two new staff
members.  The blond is Owen and the brunet is Hayden.  Owen will be kissing
you today and Hayden will be stroking your cock until you give him the
`sissyboy's big reward.'  Is that OK?"

  Tony smiled.  "That's fine, thanks.  But I know I'll fall asleep after I
cum, so could I give them a nice feel-up first?"

  Andy looked at the shuddering boys and took intense pleasure in the
little felons' discomfort.  These two needed to be taken down several pegs
and Rubbum was just the place to do that.  "Of course, Tony.  You can `rub
off' either one, but not both.  Save some of their boy's cream for the next
patient, OK?"

  Tony smiled.  "Thanks. Andy.  I think I'd like to make Hayden drench his
panties while Owen strokes me."

  Andy smiled.  "Done."  Then, to the boys, "You heard the man."

  Owen and Hayden looked at each other.  It was ghastly!  Unthinkable.

  And why did Hayden get to be "handled by a man" when Owen was stuck doing
the man-handling?

  The little cuties stepped into position.  Their sniveling whimpers
enhancing the experience for the man immensely.

  Owen pulled back the sheet to reveal Tony's cock.  Six inches.
Circumcised.  Quite stiff for a man of Tony's advanced years.

  Owen looked one last time at Hayden, who was reacting with pleasure to
Tony's hand sliding through the panty-leg opening and onto his "boy's
things."

  Owen sighed and laid his hand on Tony's cock.

  Owen didn't die.  Or burst into flames.  It felt kind of nice to be
feeling the man's "thing," actually.  Tony's intake of breath pleased Owen.
Someone thought Owen was sexy.  No one had ever given Owen such a clear
signal.  So far, it was more fun than minor vandalism.

  Owen wasn't exactly an altruist.  Despite most of his life experience,
thus far, Owen was enjoying doing something nice for someone.  Something
the man was visibly showing that he appreciated by his little wriggles and
grunts.

  Meanwhile, Hayden was enjoying being man-handled very much.  Tony had
slid his big hand into the boy's knickers and was cuddling and stirring his
tiny tee-tee bag in the nicest, most exciting way.

  Oh.

  Hayden was so embarrassed to be gasping and panting like that, within
earshot of his best friend.  But he couldn't help it.  It was so exciting
to be groped that way.  Especially when Tony found the boy's foreskin and
skinned it back and forth.  Back and forth.

  Something was happening -- stirring in his tummy.  Was it the beginning
of that "spurt thing" that had happened to Coach?  It felt very nice, but
it was getting so intense.  He was losing control.  Was Tony saying
something?  He was.  He was asking Hayden to lean over and kiss him.  He
couldn't.  But the man was so nice and his hand was so...  Hayden leaned
over and kissed Tony.  Something he never thought he would do.  Ever.

  The kiss was delicious.  And it set off a chain reaction.  It was the
"little extra" that pushed Hayden off Cum Cliff.  Spurting the first boy's
cream of his life all over Tony's hand.  Drenching his panties.  And making
him squeal in humiliating, agonizing ecstasy!

  Which set Tony off.  Making his balls explode and hurl out his scorching
man's cream.  In huge globs.  All over Owen's hand.  Making the boy's eyes
wide with wonder.  And anticipation of having that wonderful thing happen
to him soon.  Just as it had to Hayden.

  Even if it would make Owen screech like a little sissy fag, like Hayden
just did.  It must have been darned good to make Hayden drop his macho
guard like that.

  Andy broke the after-cum spell.  "Good work, boys.  You've satisfied Tony
and he's sleeping nicely.  Clean things up with those paper towels and
let's move on.  Hayden, I'll get you clean panties after your next cum --
two soaks is the rule for a change.  Owen, we'll get you a nice cum on the
next stop.  I knew you two would make good sissyboys.  Let's give you your
first `solos' now."


  Four -- Flying Solo

  "Here we go, Owen.  Room 1145.  Mr. Jizzer's been calling his nurse all
morning to ask for sissy therapy.  He wanted the black-panty treatment
today, the horny guy, but no-go yet.  So your first solo is going to be
with a very randy man."

  For reasons Owen could scarcely fathom, that prospect excited Owen very
much.  Especially when he saw Mr. Jizzer.

  The man was a hunky construction worker who had fallen at work and
damaged his leg.  He had been rehabbing rigorously and that day was his
first opportunity for sissyboy therapy.

  And he wanted it really badly.

  He was definitely the spider to Owen's fly.

  "Hi, Blondie," Mr. Jizzer said to Owen.  "You're a pretty one, aren't
you?  Come on over here and sit with next to me on the bed.  That's it.
Comfy?  Good.  Those are pretty panties too."  Mr. Jizzer ran the callused
fingers of his right hand along Owen's back as he spoke.

  Owen, AKA Blondie, was eating it all up.  He didn't even notice when Andy
and Hayden left him alone with the sex-ravenous studman.

  Did Owen actually giggle and flash a smile at Mr. Jizzer when the man
complimented him on his beauty and his panties?  Yes, he did, folks.

  "I'm so lucky they sent you to me, Blondie.  I've been in here a week!
Lots of pain.  No sex.  My poor cock has suffered the worst.  It needs
attention.  Can you give it some?"

  Owen looked away shyly at first, then looked back at the man and said,
"OK, but you have to make me spurt my stuff first.  If I `rub' you and you
fall asleep after, you won't make me feel good."  The way Hayden had
obviously felt.  "And I want to feel good."

  "Fair enough, Sweetheart.  Lie down next to me, give me a kiss and I'll
make you feel really, really good."

  Owen lay next to Mr. Jizzer.  Cuddled next to the man, on his right side.
Naked except for his panties.  Feeling the man's hand rub his back and then
[gasp] slide down the back of his panties.

  Owen loved the intimate sensations and tilted his head upwards to say
something to the man, but never got to do so.  Mr. Jizzer pressed his mouth
over Owen's and kissed him -- the boy's first kiss.  And a very nice one.
Made even sweeter by a nice little extra.

  The man's middle finger had found its way to the boy's impossibly tight
anus.  Rubbing the outer edges of its tender precincts.  Lovingly, as he
kissed the boy with lips and tongue.

  After a few minutes of that, poor Owen was in quite a "state" -- so
worked up that he barely heard what Mr. Jizzer said when he broke the kiss:
"...in that drawer next to the bed."

  Huh?

  The man repeated, "The lube -- in that drawer.  Hand it to me, please.
That's it.  Spermbutt.  The best anal lubricant there is.  They do
everything first class at Rubbum."

  Anal lubricant?

  Owen shuddered, but he retrieved the jar of slickness for his man.  Owen
didn't like when Mr. Jizzer pulled his hand our of Owen's panties, but he
watched as the man lubed up his middle and index fingers, then slid his
hand back down the panties.

  Owen especially liked it when Mr. Jizzer ran his lubed finger all around
Owen's wrinkled place as he kissed the pretty boy.

  But that was nothing compared to what happened next.

  Mr. Jizzer slid his Spermbutt-lubed middle finger all the way into Owen's
anus.

  Making the boy "whoop" in surprise at his "violation."

  Before he could double-whoop. The second finger went in, drawing a loud
squeak from the boy.

  Was Owen going to allow this kind of emasculating degradation?

  Darned right he was.  He pushed his bottom back to get more of the man's
fingers.

  Mr. Jizzer loved that reaction.  He broke the kiss and said, "Sweetheart,
I'm going to rub your `boy's place' now as I kiss you and that's going to
make you cum.  I guarantee it.  Has anyone rubbed your boy's place before?"

  Owen's eyes were moist with love.  He didn't know what the man meant, so
he shook his pretty head no.

  What an angel, Mr. Jizzer thought.  "It's going to be very intense then.
I won't hurt you, though you'll feel things you didn't believe possible."

  Owen, who had never even had an orgasm, was sure that was true.  He
surrendered his body to Mr. Jizzer and leaned into him for more
tongue-kissing.

  Mr. Jizzer found Owen's "boy's place."  And he rubbed it.  Lovingly and
expertly.  Making Owen scream in a way that didn't alert security because
an "Oh, that feels so effing fantastic" scream is a distinct sound.

  Owen journeyed to the center of the earth, then to Neptune.  He saw new
constellations and heard new sounds.

  His penis, which Mr. Jizzer began to stroke as he finger-fucked the boy,
strained to dispatch its long-overdue first load of boy's cream.

  And then Owen felt it.  Building in his testicles.  Then in his stomach.
Reaching his anus and onto his torso, legs and even toes.

  A howling tornado of an orgasm that made the boy arch his back, scream
like a little girl on the playground and heave out thick streams of
virginal boy's cream.

  Owen would never break or deface anything again.  Sex was way better than
mischief.

  Mr. Jizzer held Owen as he sobbed through the aftershocks.  The boy had
lost his virginity, but had glimpsed paradise.

  And he still had 118 hours of community service to go.


  More about Owen and Hayden and pink- and black-panty days in part 5.

  I welcome your comments at beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com.

  Other stories on nifty:

  "Sweetyboys" (gay young friends) August 31, 2007
  "Boarding-School Bedmates" (bisexual adult-youth, though it's quite gay) May 5, 2008
  "After-School Stroke Club" (gay high school) May 28, 2008
  "Pretty" (gay adult-youth) May 21, 2008
  "Hotel Management" (gay adult-youth) June 2, 2008
  "Dating Pretty Boys" (gay young friends) July 2, 2008
  "Sissyboy Stepson" (gay adult-youth) July 30, 2008
  "Sissyboy Showoff" (gay adult-youth) August 14, 2008
  "Sissyboy Sleepover" (gay incest) August 26, 2008
  "Cockteaser's Comeuppance" (gay adult-youth) September 5, 2008
  "Schoolboy Pleasures" (gay adult-youth) October 23, 2008
  "Home-Schooled Sissyboys" (gay incest) October 25, 2008
  "Sissyboy-Daddy Reunion" (gay incest) November 24, 2008
  "Sissyboy Shooting Lessons (gay adult youth) December 4, 2008
  "Stepson Seduction" (gay incest) December 13, 2008
  "The New Sissyboy" (gay incest) December 22, 2008
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