I was 11 when it started. He was the troop leader and a schoolteacher. He was popular with the other adults who helped run the troop. I helped put equipment away after scout meetings, events and camps. He used to give me lifts home, so my parents were reassured I was safe, even if I stayed out late. One time, in the cellar of the church hall, he lifted me up onto a box and undid my trousers. He took my trousers down, and my underwear. I hadn’t reached puberty. But he said I was beautiful. He took my penis in his mouth and held me by the bottom. It aroused me. I liked and admired him. So it seemed appropriate to follow his lead. It happened multiple times. On weekends, there would be activities that finished early or mid-afternoon. He took me back to his house. He felated me and then kissed me heavily on the lips. I didn’t like that. But didn’t feel able to object. He had me masturbate him to ejaculation. I didn’t like that either. But felt obliged. These visits to his home continued for about three years, always with the same sexual activities, until I told him about my starting to date people my own age. He had a sense that it wouldn’t be possible then.
I had a strong suspicion that maybe four other boys had this kind of attention in the troop. But I didn’t know if they were ongoing or previous activities.
I heard many years later that he had been convicted and jailed for multiple counts of child sexual abuse.