Gay Boy Scouting



A Brief History of Boy Scouting
Boy Scout Bad Boys
The Gay Scout Master
Bad Boys in the Boonies
Earning Your Merit Badge
Elements of Scouting
Boy Scout Secrets
Scouting Out of the Closet
The Scouting Oath
The True Scout Master
Boy Scout as Houseboy
Merit Badge with Splashes of Cum on It

A Brief History of Boy Scouting

“The announcement on Monday 
by Scouts officials that the ban 
on gays was in line for elimination 
was a thunderclap”—KIRK JOHNSON
“In a Quick Shift, Scouts Rethink a 
Ban on Gays,” The New York Times 
January 28, 2013

Hence the bad boys—
making our landscape tres gay
young boy scouts bare-ass naked
except for their butchy boots…

Boy Scout Bad Boys

He seeks solitude in the woods—
his worn-out jeans and flimsy
little thongs, my cute eagle scout

While he lets me sample—
his Orange Julius eggwhite froth
those sloppy salami seconds

Smoking a joint—
while I gobble his nice gob
a lob of cumly jail bait

The Gay Scout Master

Let the needy, the glutinous—
bald-headed gay scout masters
sprinkled with pixie dust enter the

Formidable kingdom of boys—
pink as cotton candy where
the heart starts throbbing

This is where bad boys come—
feeling it down to their toes
the teenage choirs shrieking

The snug bar of soap fits—
so nicely up their tight assholes
zippity-do-dah shooting their wads

Bad Boys in the Boonies

“where we could be boys together”
—D. A. Powell, “Boonies,” Useless
Landscape: A Guide for Boys

This region of wanting it bad—
the campestral adolescent
campfire of hard-to-get

Finally I get to kiss his tits—
slide down the slippery slope
into his raffish darkest dingles

No longer banished from his—
slick abdomen, busting his nut
gloriously gobsmacked gluttony

Bon voyage to blushing boyage—
flexing his limbs, his ripe lips
finding his secret drupe at last

Earning Your Merit Badge

Your sullen slouch, rakish grin—
how is it you hold such an
awesome influence over me?

You’re the real scout master—
mastering me with a school boy’s
hard salacious striptease act

You draw me down to the prize—
earning my ultimate faggot’s
merit badge for taboo touché 

The porky-pig runny snot—
whose singular labor is mine
your snatch of plush peach-fuzz

Elements of Scouting

The horny boy scout favors nudity—
his tight loin-chop bare ass shedding
his yellow-stained pair of shorts

Gliding into my arms in the tent—
not scrimping with the exquisite
funky odor of his boyish groin

He jerks, lurches, comes—
I’m a rare spectator between his
succulent start and sweaty finish

We listen to the hoot owls at night—
but neither he nor I can sleep
so sleek sloppy seconds follow next

Boy Scout Secrets

Love never seems to dismay him—
the pop fly, brusque fast ball strike,
the Fenway Park Green Monster

He’s an easy out, an athletic slug—
letting me have his downy fuzzy
strenuous pubed runny homeruns

He takes his time making me beg—
so clever with each tight lob of cum
the queer joy of getting him off

Turning me into gay scout master—
scurrying around in a clownish tizzy
while he just sedately yawns

Scouting Out of the Closet

It’s so tacky being a faggy priest—
Worshipping the little abused lambs 
Huddled in the confession booths

I’d rather be a gay scoutmaster—
Out in the open in Mother Nature
Doing the confessing in the woods

The Vatican is so very maddening—
The Catholic Legion of Decency
Simply gets on my nelly nerves

Let me shear the cute yearlings—
Pale prepucial peachfuzz pubes
My lips smeared with cum & smegma

The Scouting Oath

Hiking up to the headwaters of—
Genius Falls in Mt. Rainier Park
you lie back naked closing your eyes

Wiry boy with an uncut prick—
pealing you back like a juicy apricot
savoring each dribble down your chest

Your long lanky legs around my neck—
your whole delinquent body full of 
Crème of Olay truant manly juices

The waterfall rocks slick, dark, steep—
The way you get cross-eyed losing it
Your family jewels squandered helplessly

The True Scout Master

The true scoutmaster always finds a way—
he knows his forebears since ancient
Greece and Rome queered those goodies

He knows how to rummage politely—
in some slick kid’s stinky stained drawers
tasting the stillborn infants yet to come

Yes, the true scoutmaster is a bastard—
needs to be bitch-slapped and chastised 
if only the parents knew his predilections

The true scoutmaster is nobody’s fool—
a lurid audacious greedy chicken queen
desecrating young pubes his work of art

Boy Scout as Houseboy

Each last drag off his cigarette—
a tacky piece of jewelry piercing
his tit, upper lip and foreskin

How i love to take out my false teeth—
and gum the kid to death, my little
lazyboy liebschen so louche & lewd

My pretty little peacock kept boy—
spawning his pouch of breeder joy
his lovely boy scout badboy booty

Society should be glad that i take—
the time to rid the boring bourgeoisie
of such a profligate useless youth

Merit Badge with Splashes of Cum on It

Once I got a lewd wad stuck down deep—
clogging my throat with the nastiest cum
tickling my tonsils like a good line of coke

I had him stripped and hanging down—
from the ceiling in chains & black leather
using a car aerial as a mean S/M switch

My mouth felt like a filthy lavatory—
doing a hand-job as he pleaded with me:
“Beat me, burn me, fuck me to death!!!”

Jailbat can be so tantalizing and alluring—
pouty young poultry the first time around
especially when you snap their Necks

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