Dusty the Scout Leader 2-3

Story Eleven (B). A LIFE IN THE CLOSET by AARON THE AUSSIE.

If you are under 18 you should NOT be here, so DO NOT read on. Just EXIT NOW.

"A Life in the Closet" is total fiction, but it is very largely based on my life experiences, so quite a lot of it is an attempt at recording in a slightly changed way, some of the significant events in my life. And of course, names etc have been changed.

Each Story that I have written, ( and I have used that word rather than the word Chapter ) can be read quite independently of all the others, because each is a complete, stand-alone story. Some are longer than others and some have less or even minimal, if any sex. But, the basic theme is there in each story. Just occasionally, a character will be in more than one story.

However, they are all written from my point of view and I have tried to keep them basically in an order of chronology. So, they can be read in number order giving, an overview and flow to a significant number of the things that have happened to me over the years.

I became a Scout Leader in my mid-twenties and managed that same Troop for close to 15 years. The stories which follow provide further brief highlights from those years and feature just a few more of the many boys I felt very proud to have as Scouts in my Troop back then. This is Part B of Story 11.

In Chronology terms I believe that the "Introductory Story" – A Tough Long Weekend, fits roughly here – during the period covered by Part B of Story 11 and I have indexed it as Story 11C. Martin, the boy featured in Story 11C is mentioned very briefly only, at the end of this Story. So for those who might like to review and refresh your memory of the Introductory Story, I have added it here again, below Story 11B. You may also like to know in advance, that Martin is again the main character featured in my very next Story 12A. It is the story of my personal experience with him post his involvement as one of my Scouts.

I have tried to make each story interesting and as sexy as possible, whilst keeping them all as REAL as I could, particularly as regards things like; the language used, the ages of those involved, the time period relevant to that particular story and the prevailing attitudes of the community at the time.

All of my Stories are completed and I don't plan to make any changes to them, but I would still be very interested in your feedback. I'm sure most Nifty Authors really like to feel appreciated for their efforts and we all love positive feedback. So, please email me at: aarontheaussie@bigpond.com

Just a reminder too, that Nifty needs our financial support. Please help with what you can, if you can. Every bit helps, no matter how small.

So... Here goes, I hope you are still finding these stories OK.

Aaron.

DUSTY – THE SCOUT LEADER AND SOME OF HIS BOYS. ( PART B. )

( Please Note: Because of the length of this story I have broken it up to submit in 2 Parts. Whilst there are a few sexual references made here and there throughout both Parts, there is no actual sex at all in this story. However, I hope that doesn't deter you from reading and enjoying both Parts. )

0o0o0o0o

Having been a Scout Leader for some 6 years, I had passed my 30^th Birthday and I was becoming more aware of my age and the fact that the eldest of my charges were now less than half my age.

I was more conscious now for example of, a hair line which was starting to recede and the beginnings of what might become a middle aged gut if I didn't watch my weight. Whilst I was still very fit, being a smoker didn't help either and I often had cheeky comments from kids about why I couldn't give up such a bad habit.

On the other hand however, I had no doubts about my achievements in again making the Troop one of the very best and most successful around. To me this meant that every one of my boys was getting something worthwhile and positive for their future life from Scouting and many of them, perhaps most, not just something but really a great deal. Given this, I had no thoughts at that time other than to keep doing my best so that the Troop would remain as good as it was and the boys as enthusiastic as they were. The Troop perhaps reached the zenith of that success within a couple of years, but even beyond that it very largely continued to succeed throughout the rest of my tenure until I chose to resign and opt out before I turned 40, and it's success continued well beyond my departure.

Ultimately of course, I believe that the huge benefits Scouting gave to so many boys, were maximised when they were associated with a big and successful Troop where the Patrol System was able to work well.

It never rains, it just pours.

Fortunately, our weather down here generally permits us the luxury of being able to go camping pretty much year around and we rarely ever experience snow and never, the extremities of the cold, frozen winters some others do. However, we do have periods of extreme.

Camping out under extreme hot and dry conditions, ( now commonly known here as an El Nino phase ) particularly when total fire bans are imposed, is difficult and requires a lot of extra work and special care. Summer is obviously the best time for camping but I can remember a few camps with my Scouts, adversely affected by really oppressive heat and total fire bans, making those camps somewhat less fun and less enjoyable than intended, our country's tendency for bushfires and major firestorms being a big issue.

Camping out when it is extremely wet and as a result often cold too ( now commonly known here as a La Nina phase ) is just the absolute PITTS!!

My biggest problem over an extended period of some years was rain and not just heavy rain but at times torrential, pouring and flooding rain that miraculously occurred like clockwork without fail, every single time we went camping. We did a lot of camping right throughout the year and during that extended La Nina phase, the rains seemed to occur year around, not just during the colder winter months. At one stage I had Patrol Leaders in my Troop who could quite legitimately claim to have been in Scouts ever since they were 11, but who had never been on a completely dry Scout camp yet.

In a way it was good training for the boys. It was not considered appropriate to cancel a camp on the assumption that the bad weather would continue, as it may not persist, clearing unexpectedly. Equally, it was not considered appropriate to abandon a wet camp unless it was absolutely necessary.

The following are just 2 extreme examples of the many wet weather experiences we endured during that period.

1. Gary was another of my very best ever PL's and a boy I considered seriously gorgeous too. Small, but with beautiful straight dark, shoulder length hair. ( very fashionable at the time ) Like some others I've mentioned, he just smiled all the time and his sparkling dark eyes blew me away. His APL Bradley discovered Scouting a bit too late, but when he did find it, he ( a bit like Walter ) became totally besotted with it and was absolutely devoted to me and to Gary.

They had a Patrol Camp planned and organised and the 7 of them were ready to go. It was to be a bush camp at a site by a creek. Having entered the bush, the walking track to it followed the creek, a walk to the site of perhaps 45 minutes. When they set out from the Scout Hall early on that late Spring Saturday morning, the weather was holding, but looking very ominous and I was a little worried.

At my place, the rain started after lunch and became steadily heavier as the afternoon progressed. By dusk it was pelting down and throughout the night it poured, at times torrentially. Things may not have been as bad where the boys were, but they probably were, no one could know.

As PL Gary had nominated his Parents as the emergency contacts and by 7.30 on the Sunday morning they were getting concerned calls from other Parents. I asked them to stay by the phone.

Meanwhile Bradleys Dad and I each drove down to the area, meeting at the train station where the boys would have alighted to head off into the bush. I asked him to stay with the vehicles, gave him my keys and I set off on foot, carrying an empty pack and following the track down into the bush, headed to the camp site. The rain was still coming down heavily and steadily, but it had moderated a little. At least it wasn't all that cold.

The water cascading down the track on the initial decent into the bush was like a torrent, making it very difficult to negotiate and it poured straight into the creek having reached it at the bottom of the hill. Normally the track meets the creek at a rock crossing and then turned on the far side to meander along beside it. That day having reached that point, I had to wade across and I was amazed at the strength of the creeks flow and its depth. Usually only about a foot deep on either side of the rock crossing, on this occasion the crossing itself was under water and it was a good foot above my knees as I waded across.

It's ordinarily quite a nice walking track. But as I proceeded, I found it increasingly difficult to keep to, because it was inundated with water and bush debris.

Then quite suddenly I literally walked into the strangest sight – a very bedraggled looking Gary. His sodden long hair a mess, pack on back and wearing nothing but a shirt and walking shoes. He seemed a little embarrassed at being caught without pants, but explained that in places it was much easier to wade along the creek, than try to use the track and as this was against the strong flow, the drag was reduced without pants.

"Don't worry" I said, "Just fill me in on the situation". But despite the circumstances, I still did a fair bit of anatomy admiring while we talked, as Gary made no move to cover up.

Basically he advised me that things were pretty bad at the camp site. They had no hope of keeping a fire going, so hadn't really eaten. During the night they were pretty much totally inundated and everything got wet, including most of their sleeping gear. By the morning most of them were cold as well as wet as the rain continued.

"As PL" he said, "I made the decision to head out alone to get to the public phone near the station and call for help and then to head back".

"So, is Bradley looking after the boys at the camp site" I asked.

"Yes" he said, "I put him in charge and asked him to be as fully packed up as possible by the time I got back". His intention was apparently to hide his pack somewhere close to the top of the track, so that he could at least return to the site unimpeded.

I told Gary to keep going and explained that he would find Bradleys Dad waiting at the station. I asked him to phone his parents so they could advise others that everything was OK and to empty the content of his pack into one of the large plastic bags in the back of my van, then to come back with the empty pack. That way I explained, we will have 2 extra packs to help carry some of the sodden equipment.

I went on and eventually reached the camp site, to the absolute joy of Bradley and the other boys. Not long after Gary got back, we were ready to move out.

In the conditions, getting back out was a bit horrendous, but both Gary and Bradley were superb, especially with the youngest members of the Patrol. We were all exhausted when it was over, particularly Gary...I don't know why? What a Woos!!

The great thing was that nobody was any the worse for wear and there were never any parent repercussions. If anything Gary's Patrol became stronger and more close-knit as a result of their shared experience.

2. It was a 4 day Easter Holiday weekend Troop Camp and we went by train on the Thursday night to a fairly isolated meadowland type country location known as "Lilly Dale". I had to arrange especially for the train to stop for us to alight and the first and only train available for our return journey would be on the final day of the Holiday period, a train which we would have to flag down to have stop to pick us up.

In addition to each boy's personal needs for the weekend, each Patrol was responsible for packing and carrying all of its food and its own camping equipment. So everyone was heavily burdened as we struggled on and then off the train. We got the pressure lanterns lit and we moved off down the hill, following the track from the railway line.

The creek meandered through the middle of the area we were to use. On our side of it, ( the railway line side ) the ground was only lightly wooded and there were numerous small clearings by the creek, meaning each of the 5 Patrols were able to choose their own separate camp sites. Mick and I selected a smaller further separate clearing to set up our own camp.

I had finally succeeded in recruiting an Assistant Scout Leader. Mick was a Parent. ( his Son, Patrick was 12 and would eventually become another of my very best ever PL's ) Mick was enthusiastic and very good value.

Directly across the creek from the main crossing Ford, on the far side, there was a large open field type area bordered on one side by heavily wooded thick bushland, both excellent areas for our planned activities.

On the other side of the open field, a rough Fire Trail type car track could be followed about 500 metres up to the closest road passing the area.

Whilst I had come by train with all the boys, I had arranged for Mick to come in his small utility truck and to bring some extra heavy activity equipment we planned to uise. The ute was parked at the bottom of the fire trail.

On that first night, we did little more than set up the tents and get fires going so that each Patrol could have hot drinks before bed. The Patrols were fully occupied throughout the Friday morning, each properly setting up their separate camps with dining shelters, plus cooking and kitchen type areas. Other than for ourselves, the site was entirely unoccupied

Mick and I had our inspections of each of the Patrol sites following lunch and while some Patrols had done better than others; I was generally pleased with the camping standard and happy to proceed with the Activity program. We started with what we call a "Scouts Own", which I had all the APL's arrange and run. It's a simple observance Service in this case acknowledging the significance of the day, being Good Friday. Then it was fun activities for the rest of the afternoon, following which we all hit the creek for our compulsory bathe and get clean session, for that night.

It was while the Patrols were preparing and cooking the evening meal that the rain started. By the time every Patrol had successfully completed their meal and cleaned up, the rain was heavy and steady. It continued steadily throughout the night.

Although it was still raining heavily on the Saturday morning, I was not too concerned as the camp was well set up and we were very used to wet weather camping. So we kept to our Saturday morning activities, as planned. By lunch time however, there had still been no letup in the rain and it was starting to affect everyone's enthusiasm.

There was also some concern being expressed about the sparseness and lack of suitability of the timber available to keep fires going in the wet.

Mick and I met with all the PL's and APL's and agreed if the rain continued, that to ensure a successful hot evening meal, we might get one really good big fire going and pool our food resources for that meal so that everyone would eat well.

It was further agreed that Mick with the help of the APL's would keep the rest of the boys occupied with in camp activities, whilst the PL's and I would head off to the heavily wooded area across the creek to undertake a major bulk collection of the most suitable timber available. Hopefully we would be able to collect enough, to fully meet our firewood needs, not just for that evening's meal, but for the rest of the camp.

In view of the rain, the creek was up quite a bit and flowing strongly, but the water was still nice and clean and there was no problem crossing at the ford. We took a heavy coil of rope with us and used it to bring down a number of dead tree limbs, which would burn really well. Within about an hour and a half, we had stacked what I thought would be ample good timber for our needs and I suggested that we get "Tora" ( Mick's Scout Leader Name ) and the rest of the boys to help us take it all back to camp.

Unfortunately, none of that timber ever made it back to the camp, so none of it ever got used as firewood.

Rather than the creek we had most recently crossed, when we got back to it, we were confronted with a huge raging and roaring, muddy river, flowing unbelievably fast, at a very significantly increased depth. And of course we were on the wrong side. Both, the camp as well as Mick and the rest of the boys were on the other side and I could see no immediately obvious way of getting across easily. The threat of someone being swept away in the rushing caldron, was a real concern. Meanwhile, it was still teaming with rain.

With the aid of the whistle I carried, I eventually attracted Mick down to the far side bank and it was clear that he was as equally surprised as us.

With the help of Mick from the far side and the PL's, in particular Keith, my very best PL of the time, ( another one of those fabulous, all-time favourite kids I absolutely adored ) we managed to set up the rope I had with me, as a single strand line across.

As I saw it, I had to use that line to get all 5 PL's and myself safely back across. First I gathered them together for a briefing, explaining to them that there was an element of risk and possibly danger in what we would have to do.

"Take your time" I said, "Allow the force of the water against your back to keep your chest against the rope and use both hands to move across on the rope. Keith and I will help you in and get you started and Mick will help you out once you are across".

"If anyone happens to lose the rope, let the current take you, don't fight it and try to keep your feet and body forward so as to protect your head from hidden obstacles in the water. I know it's pretty scary, But if we all try to do it calmly and without any panic, one person at a time, we can all make it".

And we did... Just!! Glen was my youngest and newest PL and he was the most scared. So he was last to go before Keith, who actually went after but with him holding his trailing hand on the rope. They were virtually there when Glen lost the rope. Fortunately, he was sufficiently close that Mick was able get to him and scoop him in, before Keith fully lost the grip he still had on Glens hand altogether and we actually lost him to the raging river. For me, that was really scary and I saw Mick and in particular Keith as real hero's.

Then it was just me left to get across and I undid the rope on my side of the torrent, and attaching myself to its end, I carefully allowed the current to sweep me across, using the ropes far anchorage as a fulcrum. In this way I was successful in getting both myself and the rope back across.

Despite the complete failure of our major wood collection project and the continuing and unyielding rain, we managed just 1 sufficiently satisfactory fire that night to successfully put together a hot meal of sorts for everyone

However, the continuing heavy and steady rain intensified during the night and became quite torrential. There was no sign of improvement at all on Sunday morning. Everything was sodden and everyone was miserable as the rain continued to pelt down. It was actually the worst that I had ever encountered out in virgin bush, without any normal fall-back facilities, despite my years of camping experience.

To make matters worse, Lilly Dale's reputation for "leeches" had grown with the wet. The creatures were everywhere, in everything and attached to everyone, taking blood. To us all, it had become "Leechy Dale – the blood sucking Capital of the World!!"

Further, early on the Sunday Morning we also found it necessary to mount an aggressive defence against a number of cows wanting to take shelter from the rain under our dining flies. One even tried, fortunately without success to enter a Patrol tent.

Mick and I had agreed that something more than just the rain, something very unusual and scary had to have occurred the day before, to have caused such a sudden and huge transformation to such a normally quiet and insignificant waterway.

This view was confirmed for us on the Sunday Morning, when despite the increased intensity of the rain, we discovered that the creek had returned to relative normalcy. Relative in this case meant that it could be crossed without serious fear of being swept away. However, the flow was still strong and even at the normally dry Ford, the water was waist deep.

We subsequently found out that because of the rain, local authorities had opened the flood gates on the dam upstream from our location for several hours on the Saturday afternoon. We didn't know that at the time and despite having obtained formal permission to camp there, those with authority to open the flood gates had obviously not been advised of our presence.

Reluctantly, Mick and I agreed that another day of what seemed ongoing misery was inappropriate, as was the almost impossible prospect of getting almost 40 saturated boys plus wet heavy gear up the hill and home on the train. Conversely, abandoning camp meant getting all of the boys and all of our personal and other equipment across the creek. However, that was the option we chose.

Having made our decision, Mick forded the creek and set off in his utility to drive to a phone and summon Parent help.

Dismantling camp and packing any time it is wet, is difficult. It was a credit to all of the boys that we got it done at all that day, considering the appalling conditions we faced. I moved from Patrol Site to Patrol Site, helping, guiding and encouraging.

On his return, Mick and I packed our own site and we got our personal gear and other equipment across the creek.

Once we were finally ready to move all the boys and their personal and camping equipment across the creek ford, the real fun began. Mick stationed himself on the far side to receive equipment and help the boys out of the water, whilst I saw them on their way across, Patrol by Patrol.

Keith's Patrol was the first across and once across himself, he returned to and stationed himself mid-stream in water waist deep, to help everyone else. My other PL's were amazingly good too, but Keith worked harder than anyone that day and I couldn't begin to describe my absolute admiration for him.

During the crossing process, we only lost from the Ford and had to rescue, 1 small Scout, 2 personal packs and a Patrol tent. All up a pretty good effort.

By the time the operation was completed and everything and everyone had been transferred across successfully, Parents had started arriving.

It was then that Keith chose suddenly and a bit hysterically, to fully remove all of his clothing in front of everyone, in order to reveal about 8 of the biggest and most revolting leeches I had ever seen. ( and I had seen plenty of them ) It reminded me vividly of the scene in the film "Stand by me" except that these leeches were much, much bigger and they were nearly all, in and around Keith's groin and rear area, because he had been continually in the water to his waist for so long. The job of helping him remove them, particularly the ones in that sensitive and rather private area, would have been quite enjoyable for me, had the creatures been just a little less disgusting. Doing so successfully expended a great deal of salt and left poor Keith with some quite nasty wounds.

Finally we had all the boys and equipment allocated to cars and we were on our way back to the Scout Hall.

There at the Hall, one big task still remained and it is always the greatest drudgery of any wet camp. Not just to pack away all of the Troop and Patrol equipment possible, but to hang up all of the tents, flies and other canvas items, plus ropes, etc, inside the Hall to dry. This of course meant needing to come back to the Hall to deal with it all yet again, once it was all dry. What absolute fun!! But, again my PL's were superb and each ensured that his Patrol properly completed its part in both of these labourious and boring tasks.

When the best laid plans result in happenings such as the 2 described above, it just proves what an absolute joy, voluntary service in Scouting as an Adult Leader can be... and with so few worries or responsibilities too...!!?!??!... I don't think !

0o0o0o0o

When I consider the number of boys who passed through my Troop over the years, there were relatively few who were real problem children or seriously difficult types who lacked a reasonable attitude. I did have my failures, but, the vast majority were really good kids, there because they enthusiastically wanted to be and most who made it to PL status were the best. Some were not just good kids, they were fabulously superb human beings - youngsters I totally adored.

Some that I adored were not what I would describe as appealing to me at all, but many ( as you will have gathered from this story so far ) were just so cute, gorgeous and oh so sexy that I often found myself constantly turned on by them. Even some of the few who were less than great successes as Scouts, were still quite seriously gorgeous.

What follows are just a few Case Studies from right across the spectrum:

Robert.

A very cute youngster with a way out crew cut and a very mod way of dressing that didn't quite fit with wearing a uniform, Robert was a very appealing kid I wanted to help and positively influence and I really tried, but with little success. I think his home-life was difficult, but it was hard to know as his was one of the few homes at which I was never made welcome. I understood too that his school attendance was less than acceptable.

He had a reputation as someone the other kids generally disliked and seemed to steer clear of, so he tended to be a loner more as a result of his failings, rather than his own choice. His reputation included in particular, the suggestion of "light fingers" when it came to money or property that was not his and absolute blatancy as regards his inability to handle the truth.

In view of all this, his interest in joining Scouts and the fact that he remained with us for some time, exhibiting quite some enthusiasm both surprised me, yet gave me some hope for his future.

Initially my biggest difficulty was in placing him as nobody wanted him in their Patrol. First Glen, by then my most excellent and senior PL agreed to accept him. But, there were clashes and he moved on to Mike's son Patricks Patrol. After more trouble there, he was accepted by my newest PL of the time, Martin.

I became quite sure at the time that Roberts's transgressions were purely compulsive. There seemed no premeditation and he certainly didn't appear to need to do what he did, he just couldn't help himself. My biggest personal frustration was with his difficulty when it came to bald-faced lies. There were many instances. One which readily comes to mind was actually watching him alter the score results on a chalkboard, of a competition in a way that ensured that the team he was in would win and then having him emphatically deny having done any such thing, when he was caught red handed and he knew full well that I had just watched him do it !!

Things came to a head during a camp and it was all over the apparent theft of a "Sheath Knife". The boy who owned it was also in Martins Patrol and he accused Robert, who of course denied it. No immediate action was possible as the knife was not found, despite a thorough search including a check of all the personal kits of the members of the Patrol. But then, sometime later, Robert was caught with the missing knife in his hand, using it to vandalise stuff belonging to his accuser.

Although I did my best with Robert and felt I could have done more, I wasn't a paid Case Worker with the needed expertise and we had 40 other boys to consider. So regrettably, I could not have Robert remain in the Troop.

Craig.

Having progressed from Cubs, where he was apparently something of a genuine star, Craig started Scouts as a quite nice but a big boy for his age. Then within a year, at age 12 Craig had become extremely big and obese, quite lazy and very arrogant and in addition he had become quite a bully. When it suited him however, he was a sooky, Mummies Boy.

Regrettably, to his Mother Craig could do no wrong and she would defend him emphatically, no matter what. "It just has to have been the other kid provoking poor Craig !!" she would say.

The difficulty for me was that, save for his Mothers "Craig blind spot" and her tendency to love to talk and gossip incessantly, his Parents were good people who worked extremely hard for our Group.

I also knew that the situation was just the same at Craig's School, where the Parents were equally as fully involved.

Craig quite liked Scouts. That wasn't the problem, it was his attitude to others and his developing tendency to use a "foul mouth" whenever he could get away with it, something that I discouraged and to my knowledge just wasn't ever a problem in my Troop. I gathered that he behaved in much the same way at School, although I was told he sucked up a lot to the teachers, particularly those who could influence his Mother.

Things came to a head at the end of a Patrol bushwalking expedition I had approved.

As PL Patrick initially proposed a walk which would permit a return home by train. However, I thought this was a bit too far and too hard over an ordinary 2 day weekend for some in the Patrol. So he changed his proposal, reducing the distance and planned to finish at a beach destination from where arrangements could be made to be met and collected by Parents for the trip home using family cars. The walk was still quite challenging, through some heavy bushland and I was much happier, even though if anything, it was now perhaps just a little bit too short.

The walk went much better than Patrick had expected and the boys reached their destination early after lunch on the Sunday. With quite some time to fill before the expected arrival of the volunteer Parents ( of course including Craig's ) at about 4.00pm, a dispute arose over what they could do with that spare time.

Craig wanted to swim, but Patrick was quite emphatic that they shouldn't, on the basis as I had explained to him, that the beach was not patrolled by lifeguards and was considered remote, with a reputation for having quite dangerous surf, despite the fact that it was a magnificent day.

Craig scoffed at this and was quite derogatory towards Patrick and he tried to browbeat some of the others into going with him, irrespective of Patricks authority as PL.

In the end Craig and his best friend Graham managed to bully 1 other boy into taking their side and the 3 of them left Patrick, his APL and I other boy behind to head for the beach.

Patrick made it clear to Craig that he wouldn't be responsible should anything happen, but Craig said; "Shit Patrick, its hot and we're only gonna have a swim. If you pussy's are scared of a few bloody waves, that's your fucking problem".

When Craig's Parents arrived at about 3.30pm none of the 3 boys had returned from the beach. But within a few minutes of their arrival, Graham came running in a state of serious agitation, saying that Craig was in real trouble.

Apparently, Craig was caught in a strong undertow and heavily dumped, causing serious spinal damage. Graham and the other boy had managed to pull him out of the water, possibly saving him from drowning, but perhaps doing further damage in the process – who knows!!

As a result Craig spent a couple of weeks in hospital and the next 2 years having to wear a neck and spinal brace.

At a following Parent Committee meeting Craig's Mother made it quite clear that she had fully accepted that what happened to Craig was entirely his own fault and she made a point of heaping praise on Patrick, which was very nice, particularly as his Father Mick was at the meeting.

Craig stayed in Scouts, although his participation was then limited. He managed to lose a lot of weight and became a much nicer kid. But, whilst he never swore in my presence, I gather that his language continued to be quite colourful. In fact I believe that his relationship with his Mother improved a lot following an incident during a visit to see him at the hospital. As usual his Mother was in full swing, yakking and gossiping away to friends, when Craig stunned everyone by telling her to her face and in front of everyone there to..."Shut the fuck up for Christ sake !!"

Helmut.

Helmut was another blue eyed blond. As his name suggests, he was of German origin, although he was born here. His Parents ran our local deli and were delightful people. Facially Helmut was extremely cute, with a very thick, heavy mop of collar length hair, fringed across his eyebrows.

He became a very good scout and was eventually a good Patrol Leader. However, he was big for his age and quite tubby. Further, he was always a little bit "girly" with a high pitched voice and a tendency to flounce himself around. It would have been easy to perhaps have judged Helmut as possibly gay, but he definitely wasn't.

He loved to dress up and I well remember a play act presented at a Parent function by his Patrol, in which Helmut took the role of a native girl dressed in nothing but undies below a grass skirt. Watching his near naked pudgy body sway enthusiastically and wobble erotically to the Hawaiian type recorded music the boys were using as a part of their script was quite amazing.

Whilst very fortunately I didn't lose Helmut from my Scout Troop over what occurred, he was a central figure in a nasty and unfortunate incident which resulted in quite some controversy locally at the time. Basically, it was a paedophilia issue, although it wasn't called that back then.

Because of his particular personal interests, Helmut was one of a good number of boys from various Scout Troops in our area, involved in a local production of "Gang Show" - an amateur theatrical Scout presentation well known to all in Scouting circles across the world.

I had no direct involvement with Gang Show at all, but encouraged any boy in my Troop with a particular interest, to participate, even though at times doing so was a pain, because that involvement could sometimes adversely affect our own Troop activities when those boys had Gang Show as their priority and could not participate with us.

Helmut was one of several boys who accused the leader responsible for the local show, of sexual interference and abuse and those boys were all in a serious state of distress at the time.

The immediate suspension of the Leader concerned from all service in Scouting of any kind and his subsequent permanent removal for life from any form of active involvement, following a full enquiry, was a swift and decisive process.

I was never privy to just how he interfered with the boys, but he clearly did, he was caught and he had to suffer the consequences, including the fact that from then on he was regarded as a known predator. But, the man concerned was a hardworking and dedicated Leader who had been involved for a long time. Being a Boy Lover myself, whilst I could never condone his major apparent lapse from and lack of self-control, I could certainly feel for him, because, even I found it just about impossible to always be totally without small failings of a minor indiscretion type, as the following examples indicate...

Lachlan and Quinton.

These 2 blue eyed and blond "Identical Twins" were just so incredibly gorgeous, they were breathtaking and I found it nearly impossible to keep my eyes off them. For nearly the full first 12 months, I found it totally impossible to tell them apart. Then suddenly one day I could tell them apart, although I still couldn't explain how I could, I just could.

Having acquired that innate sense to distinguish between them, I then saw major differences in their individual personalities. Lachlan was a born leader who was outgoing and self-confident. Quinton was quieter and more inclined to look to others for guidance and encouragement, but mainly to Lachlan. Both eventually became very good, but quite different Patrol Leaders.

It was Lachlan's first Patrol Camp as a PL but Quinton, who soon afterward moved to another Patrol as its APL, was still at that time in Lachlan's Patrol.

It was my policy to insist that any PL's first Patrol Camp be at an established Scout camping facility, usually the Districts "Camp Cooringal". This worked well as I was often able to have the PL plan his weekend to fit with a time I would be at the camp myself for some other purpose. This way I could keep an eye on things, whilst ensuring I had no direct involvement and that I didn't interfere. On that Particular weekend I was working with my friend Ken, the District Scout Leader running a Training Course.

The Training Course was over, the trainees had departed and Ken had left camp as well. As he was going out again that night he decided to shower at home. I was in no rush and wanted to see Lachlan and his Patrol off on their way home safely, before departing. So, I took myself off to the adult male ablution block for a quiet shower alone.

At about the same time, Lachlan was taking his Patrol to the adjacent boys ablution block to shower as well. However, there were 7 of them and only 6 showerheads and Lachlan agreed to Quinton's suggestion that he quietly pop next door to shower, where technically of course he was not supposed to be, but where Quinton found himself showering alone with me !!

Quinton was even more gorgeous ( if that's possible ) naked and I'm sure the boner he popped was in response to the one I was unable to hide. ( as far as I recall, the only one I ever had in front of one of my scouts ) In fact, to me his whole package was absolute perfection, so I can't blame myself too much even though I knew I shouldn't have let it happen.

To make matters worse, Quinton then realised that he had left his towel over at the boys block. He asked me if once I was dressed, I would go get it for him and I agreed. But, I found it really hard to concentrate on dressing, whilst he just stood passively right there in front of me in his aroused state, dripping wet after his shower.

Whilst retrieving the towel I managed to delay long enough at the other block, to get a good look at naked Lachlan, ( amongst a few others ) but a comparison with Quinton showed no differences at all. Although Lachlan was not in an aroused state, as they were identical, he was every bit as perfect and magnificent as his twin.

Back with Quinton, I of course had to wait patiently with him while he dried himself off and got dressed, allowing me more time to ogle his gloriousness.

I often wondered if Quinton might have seen me headed to the showers and engineered that whole situation, perhaps hoping that something more might have happened between us. Conversely I worried somewhat, had it been genuinely just an accident, that he might have said something to others, whether intentional or not, that could have cast some question on my integrity. Fortunately, nothing further ever happened either way.

Tibor. ( Who also has a role in a story yet to come. )

A further blond, but with huge green eyes, to me Tibor was just another magnificent specimen of superb and glorious boyhood beauty.

When he first joined Tibor was a scrawny kid from a poor immigrant background, with a huge and totally unpronounceable family name and the strangest accent I had ever encountered. Despite this however, everything about him was so cute that he turned me on big time, from the first moment I saw him with his dad, who told me the boy was not keen to join and came along only because he was made to come.

That first night for Tibor was in January, which down here is the peak of the summer season when it's very, very hot. For this reason, we had arranged an inter-patrol outdoor competitive activity, culminating in a battle between the Patrols on the local beach using water filled balloons. This was followed by a night time swim in the beautiful rock pool at the end of the beach.

Tibor loved the water fight and was soon both wet and covered in sand, but being new, he had not known to bring swimmers for the pool and chose to strip to his quite skimpy undies. But having done so, he seemed quite shy and as he didn't know any of the other boys much, he tended to hang around me.

However, he wouldn't go into the water and eventually I threatened to throw him in if he didn't go in himself. But, my threat was without effect, so I made it good and actually threw him in, using a quite inappropriate method.

In some ways that was a mistake, because he then pestered me for the whole rest of the time we were there, both in and out of the water. In the water, he wanted to climb on me, swim through my legs, get out and then bomb me and sexily wrap his legs around my waist. When out of the water, he wanted me to keep on throwing him in again and again. I had done this initially by holding him, with one hand at the shoulder and with the other between the legs by his tiny package. But, this just seemed to encourage him and it was not long before I could clearly detect some arousal in his undies each time I gripped him there. Something I should not have done.

Fortunately, after that night Tibor was no longer a reluctant recruit and his enthusiasm grew and grew. However, it did take quite a while, first to get him to mix more with the other boys as a proper member of his Patrol and then, to stop him wanting to just hang around with me all of the time.

Not only did Tibor eventually become one of my best ever scouts and an excellent Patrol Leader, but in the longer term we became very good personal friends, about which there is much more in a future story.

Martin. ( See both the Introductory Story – 11c and also Story 12a. )

A fabulous Scout and someone really special, with enormous sex appeal. Despite the circumstances as explained in the Introductory Story, no other boy ever slept alone with me in my tent, whilst a Scout in my Troop. Something I always felt uncomfortable about, despite having only ever permitting it that once.

0o0o0o0o

It was when I was about 35, having been Scout Leader for over 10 years that Trent became my new Assistant Leader. Story 13 is about Trent. He and I worked very closely together during the final years of my involvement.

In Chronology terms I believe that the "Introductory Story" – A Tough Long Weekend, fits roughly here – during the latter part of the period covered by Part B of Story 11, as above. For this reason I originally indexed it as Story 11C. Martin, the boy featured in Story 11C is mentioned very briefly only above, at the end of the Story. So for those who might like to review and refresh your memory of the Introductory Story, I have added it here again below. As indicated above, you may also like to know in advance, that Martin is again the main character featured in my very next Story 12A. It's the story of my further personal experience with him post his involvement as one of my Scouts.

STORY 11c. - A TOUGH LONG WEEKEND.

The first day of 3 was over. It had been a long, hot and challenging one and for me, one full of responsibility. ( as usual in this entirely voluntary role of mine ) But now I was relaxed and sleepily comfortable, as I lay in the small 2 man hike tent, sleeping bag to my waist, watching in the dim light, as my 13 year old tent partner undressed ( fully – and it seemed, without any shyness ) and readied himself to sleep in light weight PJs. Martin was absolutely gorgeous. He was slim and long legged, with a shock of reddish blond hair and he was very good looking. I noted as I watched him, that as yet he had very little body hair, which for me increased his appeal.

Today we had covered over 10 miles of the 25 or so to be walked over the 3 days and I was very pleased with the day and all the boys.

As well as navigating more very rugged bushland just Like todays, as per their written instructions, during the remaining 2 days, my 9 boys would face a number of "Leadership" challenges I had devised.

As a Scout Leader, I seemed to be hugely successful. Mick My Assistant Leader, ( and I only had one - he was a Dad ) was fabulous and we worked well together. ( very important with just on 40 boys in the Troop ) But, regrettably he had some family problems and was a last minute withdrawal from this weekend.

We had 5 Patrols and I think my success was largely because I managed the Troop through the Patrol Leaders and Assistant Patrol Leaders, giving them real responsibility and training them to be good young leaders. Every new boy was encouraged to aim towards one day being a PL.

This weekend was especially important in that regard, as it was a special, high challenge training one, exclusively for my PL's and APL's only. Martins PL John, was the only boy in this group of 10 unable to attend and when Mick had to drop out, Martin asked me if he could share my tent.

Being a very, very closetted Boy Lover, sleeping with any youngster was not something I was comfortable about in my position. It was a way, to seriously place temptation directly in my path and I was extremely concerned about my reputation in our community and my future prospects should there ever be any kind of public scandal. After all, I had developed close personal friendships with many of the families of my boys over the years and I knew that I was well respected.

On the other hand, Martin was the one who had asked me ( there was no way I would have suggested it to him ) and it seemed silly to carry 2 lots of gear, 1 lot each for 1 person, when 2 could share just 1 lot. So I was very, very conflicted.

I checked out the attitude of Martins parents to what he proposed, by raising the issue, but quite obliquely during general conversation with them and Martin together about the weekend, and found that they didn't appear to have any concerns or adverse reactions, Given this, I finally agreed to Martins request. So, I had 4 PL's each sharing a tent with his own APL and Martin and I in the 5^th tent.

As I lay there watching Martin, the level of my desire was so strong that I didn't know what to do or how I could contain it. "It's funny" I thought, despite all of my very conscious awareness and caution about what is inappropriate, at a time like this, hormones and lusts are still so hard to control. Martin had never given me any reason to suspect that he might be interested in any way, and at well beyond 30 now, my hair was starting to recede and I couldn't imagine anyone at all really having an interest in me sexually, let alone a youngster having one !! Yet given half the chance I felt I could absolutely ravish this beautiful boy right now.

Sense prevailed and we settled down and I turned off the torch. Although it was now nice rather than hot, it was not cool enough for me to snuggle down into my sleeping bag. Martin did to some degree and turned onto his side facing me. The moon was bright and we chatted for a short while about nothing in particular.

Although it had been a tough day and I felt very drowsy, I still felt far too conflicted to contemplate sleep. I was sure I would not let anything happen, but to satisfy my more anal thoughts, while we talked, I turned onto my back and casually moved my arm out so that it lay flat on the ground sheet in the small space between us, hand palm up.

My fantasy's soured and I'm not sure just how long I lay there quietly, but suddenly I became aware that Martin had moved, it seemed towards me forward on to his stomach and part of my arm and my hand was under him.

I wasn't sure, but it felt through his sleeping bag as though my hand might be close to his groin. Nonetheless, I assumed that this was a natural move, an accidental occurrence and even if it's not I thought, let him make the first move.

I was really excited but so scared, when it seemed that he might have done just that, to the extent that he appeared to be gently humping my hand.

I spent so much time deciding whether I had the guts to respond in some way, that I was startled when Martin suddenly rolled away from me.

"It was accidental" I thought, "and the humping was in my overheated imagination". I was relieved but kind of disappointed. But, I left my hand where it was anyway.

Over the next few minutes, some muffled noises I could not identify came from Martins direction. I was wondering if perhaps he was wanking himself, but the noises didn't seem quite right.

Then the noises stopped and after a brief silent pause, he rolled back. He had obviously managed to quietly unzip his sleeping bag and rearrange it so that when he rolled back, my hand came into direct contact, save for thin PJ pants, with balls and a very, very stiff cock.

This time I gave in, and tried to close my hand around his dick. He adjusted a bit to allow me easier access and as soon as I had my hand holding it properly, he gave a sigh and again began to hump.

His cock was thin and straight, perhaps between 4 and 5 inches of velvet soft, solid steel and I was in absolute heaven. Now he turned his head towards me and our eyes locked.

Suddenly I lost the treasure in my hand, because he rolled again, came right out of his sleeping bag and completely shucked off his PJ's. Then fully nude, he came right over me and without a word he straddled my chest. I took his balls in my hand and manipulated them, as he leaned forward placing the tip of his cock to my lips.

I allowed it to slide into my mouth and I made love to it with my tongue until I felt his pubic bone on my top lip. I could feel his heart beat in my mouth as his cock throbbed and trembled with his arousal. He withdrew just a little and I used my tongue to more carefully trace and examine the beautiful head of his cock, which did seem to be leaking just a little.

He withdrew fully briefly and I had taken in his lovely balls in an instant and I rolled them around lovingly in my mouth.

But his need was great and his cock went back into my mouth and he began to thrust, gently at first but with increasing urgency. For a 13 year old I thought, he is amazing. Then his whole body stiffened and I knew he was going to cum.

I braced myself as he did. 4 really strong spurts were followed by more which came with less force, but kept cumming until I had swallowed it all and he was drained. He was too young for it to be heavy spunk, so I really liked it.

"Oh God Aaron" he said, "That was absolutely awesome" as he collapsed on top of me and then straightened out. I chose on this occasion, to overlook his use of my given name, rather than my Scout Leader name, mainly because I was too busy by then kissing him !!

Our lips met, our teeth clashed in our haste and tongues explored. The kiss was long and full of passion and it might have continued, but for the fact that I found myself in need of urgent relief. I reached for the cloth I usually kept handy for the purpose and started to move my arm down. Martin grabbed the cloth, sat up and turned himself around, pushed down my sleeping bag further and he leaned forward to look.

From the first touch of his hand, to massive explosion and a cloth full of my semen must have involved perhaps 10 seconds and a half dozen of his quick hand strokes at most. But it was enough to permit me to contemplate the unbelievably soft and hairless rump right in front of me then, and I did something that I had never even considered before. I lent up, put my tongue into the crack and started to use it to massage his opening. Martin straightened up, cloth still in hand and pushed his whole pelvis back against my exploring tongue. Then he moaned and dropped the messy cloth on my chest.

Without warning, there was weight on my arm again and I opened my eyes, regretfully realising that I had been dreaming, to see Martin, sleeping bag and all, roll off my arm and as he did so he mumbled "Oops, sorry". He then got out of his sleeping bag and crawled in his PJ's to the tent door to look out. It was early but getting light and I had quite clearly been asleep. However, looking down at my chest, I saw a very damp and sticky cloth there !!

Martin lay back down on top of his sleeping bag as I surreptitiously moved the cloth from sight, and turning to me he said: "Morning Dusty, sorry if I woke you, but we will probably have to get up soon anyway. Did you sleep OK ? I was a bit worried that you might snore, but you didn't disturb me at all. In fact I don't think I moved all night, until just then".

I noted his use of my Scout Leader name and responded to him, saying: "Morning, I think I must have slept well, glad you had a good night, but I don't think I snore anyway... and yes it must be just about getting up time, there is another really big day ahead of us today"

But, I allowed myself the luxury of just a little longer before getting up, so that I could watch Martin take off his PJ's ( again without any apparent shyness ) and then get dressed. My mouth watered and I thought' I could still eat him whole.

Our bushwalking that day went well, as did the challenges I set the boys and I was again very happy.

I was less concerned about that night with Martin, as I knew that after 2 tough days we would probably both sleep like logs. We did, but a few things still happened.

Although not unpleasantly so, it stayed warmer that second night out in the bush and whilst again watching Martin getting ready for bed, I was surprised when having fully undressed, he got straight into his sleeping bag stark-us ( no PJ's or anything ) What is more, during the night or perhaps it might have been just a little earlier that following morning, I'm sure I heard someone discretely wanking off.

When I did awake properly that final morning Martin was already awake. He said he had slept well but it had been hot and he had been awake a while? He was laying on top of his sleeping bag, still without a stitch on, so I was able to watch him that way for a period, as we talked for a while before he got dressed, first as usual.

I had slept very well but I had another intense dream and you might guess what it was all about. At some time during the night my poor cloth got another soaking.

While talking, Martin commented not about any snoring, but about the very strange and seemingly intense moans and groans I made in my sleep and the mumbling I seemed to do. It worried me because I wondered what he might have actually seen or heard. There was nothing I could actually do about it however, so I tried to just pass it off.

We only had about 6 miles left to walk back out to civilisation and I only planned on a couple of simple challenges that last day, so it was a slightly easier day, even though the last bit was a fairly steeply up-hill climb on a winding narrow track. We came out on top with ample time to catch the train home, on schedule and as intended.

It had certainly been A TOUGH LONG WEEKEND and although I was totally exhausted, as were all the boys, I was exhilarated by its total success. Every one of them had clearly had a great time and had big ticks for personal achievements.

The boys just about all went sound asleep on the train and as I looked them over – 4, 14 year olds and 5 at 13, I thought: 4 ( including Martin ) scored as absolutely stunningly gorgeous and at least 2 others could only be described at a minimum, as quite good looking. But, in my imaginary "Boy Lover " Nirvana world, there wasn't 1 of the 9, that didn't attract me big time, sexually and although I would never admit it to anyone, in reality I was head over heels in love with every one of them !!!