Cub Scout

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**** Trigger Warning ****

I’m 60 years old, grew up in a poorer middle class family in Connecticut. Both mother and father in the home. Middle child of 7 children. It was a good catholic family. Hard working uneducated father. Stay at home mom until I was about ten. Mom high school education, did do some odd jobs.

This is my story the best I can tell it.

My eyes well up and the pain comes tumbling in each and every time I think about it.
I knew I was sexually abuse starting at eight years old by my Cub Scout leader. He was about 35 when it started. He was divorced and the father of two small boys my age whom I never met.

I am going to try and tell the story as it happened. However parts of my story I remember after much counseling, sole searching and thru flashbacks and night terrors. Much of it I knew all along and just hoped it would go away.

After a Cub Scout den meeting, the Cub Scout Leader asked if I could go back to his place and help him clean out rabbit cages. My parents said I could go and I was elated. I don’t know if this was the first time I went there or if was the first time I went alone with him. I do know on some of the visits he lied and said he was taking several of the scouts back to help. On the occasion that he violated me for the first time I went back to his place to help clean out the rabbit cages. I remember him spilling rabbit poop all over me and thinking that he did that intentionally. He then took me upstairs into his apartment had me get undressed and shower. I did not feel uncomfortable at that point, it was kinda like a parent taking care of me. After the Shower he told me he had to wash my clothes. He had me lay on his bed with a towel across my privates. He then lay on the be with just towel on. After a while he started asking me all different questions about different things. He asked me in I woke up in the middle of the night or in the morning with a hard penis. He told me it was all right and natural. He asked if I touch myself. He said it was ok to talk to him about it and only him, good Cub Scouts only talk to the Scout leader that’s why they were leaders. He then asked me if I was hard and I told him no. He said it was important for him to show me or teach me, but again he was the only one who could. He could not teach me if I ever told anyone. I could never talk about it, do it alone or with anyone else.
He reached under my towel. I remember being scared but it’s kind of a blur there as to how I reacted the first time. I remember him rubbing and stroking me. I remember it felt good. I did not have an orgasm. I don’t know if I touched him that time or not. He did tell me that it was special just for me and him. I think I did feel special.

I went home did not tell anyone and I don’t know how I felt the first few times. At some point in time very early on I remember thinking I would get erections as a young boy. I would hump my blanket or even my pillow and it felt good. I then related that experience to what was happening and felt a little elated. This was what it was all about. It felt good. This must be ok. I did not cum but I did get and orgasm from him at some point. I then masturbated all the time, every chance I could. I lied to him when he asked if I did.
It escalated into sleep overs with some of the other scouts. He has us sleeping all over. But I was always in his bed even though I asked him to sleep with my buddies. After everyone was asleep he would become the Predator And take advance of me. then it was just me sleeping over on weekend or just me and one other kid sleeping in the other room. He would start with back rubs, with hospital location. Take about a trigger point. I hate that smell to this day. His house was filthy and smelled of dog really bad. I remember him beating the poor dog for peeing in the apartment. I cant stand dirty places or the smell of dog in a house.

I do not think I was groomed the way others were. I was isolated from my peers by him. He would make others think that I was ill and I had to be around him. He would pit my peers against me. He would be disciplinarian to me, blame me for things I did not do. I was always in trouble. I was always taken out into another room alone with him. He would punish me, not allow me to participate. Sometimes physical hurt me. I think his way of grooming was to make me afraid of him. He was mean, self centered and selfish. I would go home hungry. He would eat in front of me and not share or give me something else.

Then there were camp outs. I would have to sleep in his tent because I was fragile, ill according to him. I didn’t understand it because I knew I was not. On the camp outs it would happen later at night. He would wake me up. Now as an adult I know it was because some of the fathers were by the camp fire late. I asked in front of the fathers if I could share a tent with on of my friends. He said I couldn't because of medical reasons.I pleaded with my eyes to one of the fathers on one of the camp outs. I just knew he sensed something wasn’t right. I remember to this day the way he looked at me as the predator took me to the tent.

I don’t remember when the first time was that he had me touch him. Or how long it had been going on when he made me touch him. I do remember touching him, I remember thinking how huge he was. He has a long foreskin and I had no idea what that was. I remember his pubic hair. I know I did not like the feel of it. I remember the first time he put it in my mouth, the taste the smell. It was horrible to me. Then he would want me to stroke him. Then he would beat off until he was about to cum then put it in my mouth and cum. He would get angry when I couldn’t do it. He was very needy, a Hypochondriac always something wrong. Please do this because...…...

He told me about a catholic priest who would come and visit him and they would be together. He was always taking about that, almost justifying that all was ok, like he was part of the church. On weekend sleep overs he would have a set of nice clothes my size, he would have me dress in them take me to church and always introduce me as his son. He was a volunteer fireman and he would take me to the firehouse and also introduce me as his son.He would dress me up and take me to Sears and have pictures taken of me and him.

On one sleep over, there was another man came to his house. He parked his car in the garage. He had told me when the priest comes he puts his car in the garage so no one sees it. This man was dressed in black, no collar of any kind . I believe that he was a catholic priest . He was only introduced as by his first name. That night he participated in sexually abusing me. I remember being very frightened for some reason.

This all went on for about a year. He would take me to out camp outs with older scouts and without our troop and tell people that I was his son.
On the final camp out with my troop it rained very had for the first night and a half the next day. The camp out was finally cancelled. Everyone went home including my friend and next door neighbor. I was taken back to the predator’s apartment. At some point over the weekend my parents found out from the neighbor that the camp out ended early due to the rain.
When he took me home the next day. I was sent to my room. There were discussions and the person who was the head of Boy Scouts was there. I was told the next day that I did not do anything wrong but I could not go to Scouts any more.
I was happy and relieved it was over and I never asked a question about it or complained that I could not go. It was never talked about. I was never asked if anything happened. I was never asked if I was ok. I was never seen by a doctor or counselor. But I thought I was ok. It was OVER. I was free and he could not hurt me any more. It was the first time in a year that I did not cry myself to sleep.

At the time I thought I was sad because Bobby Kennedy was killed. I was sad all the time. I have a picture of me the Easter before it stated, I was such a happy kid with a big smile and a great sparkle in my eyes. Then I was this with drawn kid, so sad all the time. I see my grandson now only at age 4, but that's how I remember the little me, so happy and I thought so funny. He killed that little guy. Killed Him.

Then after that winter he started to show up at places I was at. Like the park, the end of our neighborhood. When I was walking to a friends or the candy store, at my school. I didn’t know it back then but he was stalking me. I never told anyone or acknowledged that I saw him. Then some how that summer I was the luckiest kid in town. I got to go to summer camp at the YWCA. No-one in my family got to do this, there was no money. It wasn’t far from where my mother worked and she would drop me off about 5 blocks or so from the camp and I would walk. One morning he pulled up beside me, and started taking to me. He told me he missed me and that we were meant to be together. He asked me to get in the car and I told him I had to go to camp. He tried being nice , tried taking me into getting into the car. I wanted to run. My mind kept telling me to run, but I was frozen, my feet would not move. I was shaking. Then he said very stern GET IN THE CAR. I could not move to run or get in the car. He got out of the car and came around opened the door and got me in. He took me to a diner. He asked if I had any money and I said I had 2 dollars. My grandparents were over the night before and gave it to me. He ordered breakfast for himself and nothing for me. He took my money and paid for it. He put the change on the table a quarter for the tip.

Then he took me to this boarding house that I had never been to before, where he rented a room. He said it cost him a lot of money that he didn't have to rent the room. He rented it for me ,so he could see me. That was when he raped me for the first time. I truly thought he was killing me. I bleed for days and hurt for weeks. Even after it was over I thought I was dying. He stopped because I passed out. Then he became very frightening, threatening me and my family . He told me when I see him I better ditch my friend and get my ass in his car. He would pick me up on the way to camp almost every day all summer. He would show up at places and take me to that boarding house. I'm not sure how long it went on at the boarding house.

The sexually abuse went on until about age 15. I became defiant around 13 it 14. But I also had the need for sex, sometimes I was secretly waiting for him to show up because I wanted to get off. Then I was so repulsed by the whole thing I would get stomach sick. He had me addicted to cigarettes at about 10 or 11. That was the only thing he ever did for me, buy me cigarettes. At around age 15 he had this little boy who was he said was a foster child. I confronted him and accused him of doing that to this boy. I told him I would not be a part of it. He took me home. I was so troubled by it. I wanted to call the police and just end it for that boy, I knew it my heart he was sexually abusing him. He was me. I hate my 15 year old self not saving that boy or others after him. I don't know why I didn't have the courage to do that.

The next time I saw him I was 16 and just got my drives license. I drove to his house. He was not home when I knocked on the door. He drove up. I think he was fearful when he got out of the car. He asked me what I was doing there. I pretended that I wanted to have sex with him. There was lots of strained small talk. I told him I want to see the nude photos he took of me when I was around 13. He kept telling me he didn’t have them, I was persistent and he got them, I had a ball point pen. Before he could stop me I destroyed my face on them. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled out a big chuck including my scalp.(I told my parents I got into a fight with some kid at McDonalds.) I then told him I wanted the pictures he had professionally taken of me and of me and him. He told me he paid a lot of money for them and if I wanted them I would have to pay him. I had just gotten paid from my job. I gave him what money I had and took them. I destroyed them before I got home and threw them away in a MCDonalds trash can. I asked him why. His cold crewel comment was his First Sargent did it to him when he was in the army. I said that even more reason not to hurt someone. I also said its not the same I was 9 years old.

I never saw him again.

There is so much more, this is what I can share now and still take care of myself. This has effected EVERY aspect of my life. I know other people around me have been affect as well, because of my anger, rage, the, shame acting out sexually with men, distrusting of people especially men. I also know that I have survived this better than a lot of others. I have held a good job, financially successful, have a good family, a good wife, one marriage of 36 years, not addicted to drugs. But how much more could life have been without this baggage I carry.

While driving one day I heard his name and home town announced on the radio as the winner of a contest. I was in my 30s. I had to pull over. I totally lost control of myself. I sat there and cried for over an hour before I could pull myself together. I couldn't sleep at night and relived the nightmare in my dreams. I just became angrier and angrier and hated myself for what happen, for what I was becoming and the things I did when I was acting out. Questioning if I was straight, gay, bi. That was when I started therapy for the first time. I struggled so many days just to stay alive. I always felt it was to stay alive for someone else, my kids, my wife. So my parents didn't have to go to my funeral. I am thankful I have them, because if I didn't in my darkest moments I would have ended the pain and suffering.

I know its time for counseling, there is still much left unresolved, I need it for peace in my sole. The anger is back, I want a cigarette after years of not smoking. I'm not sleeping, the night terror is back, I'm acting out sexually. Tuesday it starts. Its been hard to find someone. This site has gotten me through the last month that's one of the reasons I wanted to share my story. It has been good to read others experiences, I don't wish this on anyone. But its good to know I'm not alone.
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