Powder Part 1


by Tommy Blake

Growing up, i was in many ways an exceptionally bright kid, and in other ways an exceptionally stupid kid. It was that combination which leads to this tale of woe which I shall now relate to you.

In the fifth grade I was very interested in science. there was one specialized science teacher who covered not only my elementary school, but the three others in the district. Being very bright and interested in the subjest, I quickly became somewwhat of his pet. Some how I was entrusted with the key to the science room and even was allowed to go there by myself. For a few months I never did anything wrong there and learned quite a bit. However, one day I noticed a large bottle of Potasium Nitrate on the shelf, along with an even bigger bottle of sulfur. i knew that these were the makings of one of the biggest possible scores possible for a 10 year old kid.

The next day a brought in a peice of charcoal, and went into the science room, having checked the recipie in the world book encyclopedia. Yup, 75% potassium nitrate, 15% sulfur, and 10% charcoal, mixed carefully together. I used almost the entire supply of potassium nitrate to make about a quart of the precious powedr, not just any powder. GUNPOWDER.

Now what to do with the precious stuff. Of course I would have loved to have made my own firecrackers, but I had no way of wrapping the poweder up tightly enough to manage it. I carefully hid my stash in the coat closet and brought it home with me. I was still in a quandry as to what I would do with it. i wanted to have fun, but I aslo wanted to enhance my social status among the kids in the neighborhood. i resolved to invite a bunch of them over to the playground (the school yard) on saturday for a demonstration of my coup. Maybe ten kids showed up. I laid out a thin trail of powder on the ground which led to a much bigger pile and lit a match. Just like in the movies the trail burned quickly, although there was more like a very rapid fire and flash of light and lots of smoke than a great big explosion.

Unfortuanatly, unnoticed by me there was a grown-up at the other end of the school yard, sort of a friend/acuantance of my parents. i didn't recognize her, but she recoginzed me. She called out what's going on there and everyone scattered. I thought I had gotten away cleanly, that was until I got home and was met by a very upset looking mother.

"Tommy, Mrs. Harris just called me"

"Yeah so"

"Don't take that attitude with me young man, what were you doing down at the school yard today"

"Umm Nothing Mom"

"She said you were involved in some sort of explosion or something"

"She's crazy, I didn't even hear any explosion"

Mom took a good whif of my clothes, which clearly reaked of gunpoweder. "Don't you dare lie to me Tommy. you just earned yourself a good mouthwashing, and that is on top of the trouble you are in for whatever was going on down there at the school"

""Please mom, no soap, I hate that"

"Well then you shouldn't have lied to me, now why dont you try to tell the truth"

I knew I was in deep, but i was already down for a soaping, and probably a spanking, but I still wanted to minimize my involvement. "Ok ok, billy had some firecrackers and smoke bombs that he wanted to light off and i watched, but they were mostly duds"

WHAP mom's hand flew up and across my face. "How dare you lie to me again. Mrs. harris told me the whole story. How you were the one lighting things off, and how you had even left behing a beaker with a powder in it, which she still has. there were no smoke bombs were there. where did you get that power?"

i knew the jig was up by then. "I made it"

"How?"

"At school, from some stuff in the science room"

"And your teachers knew that you were doing this? You a ten year old is allowed to make explosives in school?

"No mom, I just sort of did it on my own"

"So you stole the supplies to make this, that makes you a liar, and a thief, not to mention doing something so increadibly dangerous i am just beside myself"

"Sorry Mom"

"Sorry doesn't cut it mister, you are in more trouble than you have ever been in before. First you are getting your mouth washed out, then i'm going to give you a spanking. But that is just for starters. You will get your real punishment when your dad gets home in a couple of hours"

With that mom grabed my by the ear and pulled me over to the kitchen sink, she opened up my mouth and squirted in a very liberal amount of liquid ivory soap, stuck her fingers in my mouth and rubbed the stuff all over. i started to gag as her fingers reached the back of my mouth, but somehow as able to avoid puking.

The without being allowed to so much as spit, let alone rinse, she pulled me over to a kichen chair, sat down and yanked my pants and underpants to my knees and put me over her left leg, trapping my legs with her right so I could not kick or wiggle. She picked up a wooden spoon off the table and WHAP WHAP WHAP she started to attack my poor defeseless butt. i hollared and screamed, my tears mixed with the foam whch was still all around my mouth, which in turn was quckly joined by the snot which started to flow freely from my nose. she was relentless, spanking both hard and fast. after about a minute, surely the longest minute of my youndg life up to that point she had covered all of my butt and aa good portion of my upper thighs with about 60 licks from the spoon.

The she pushed me off of her lap and she stood up. "lean over the back of this chair and grab the seat"

I did so, I had to get up on my tip toes to comply, but at that point I was not about to argue. My red butt was the highest point of my body. She left the room but soon returned with one of my dad's thick leather belts. "Please mom i'm sorry, plese don't belt me"

"I'm not going to belt you, your father is" and she put the belt down on the seat of the chair, right in front of my eyes.

"But mom, dad's not home"

"That right, and you are going to stay just like that until he gets home in about two hours, and think about what you have done. If you move, I still have this spoon handy"

To be continued


More stories by Tommy Blake