My name is Peter and I need to tell you a story about growing up in hell.

Grandma Miller was a bitch. When I was little, I hated her nasty ass with every fiber of my body. Hell, even as I think back on it today, I still get sick thinking about her and just want to fart! Probably not the relationship you would think a young boy would have with his grandma.

But Grandma Miller was not one of those sweethearts that hugged her grandchildren and gave them home baked cookies. She was one of those old cranky nasty evil women who believed that children should be seen and not heard.

I remember when I was about 6 or 7 and the family used to go visit her. I remember how she would expect us kids, my sister and I, to sit on the floor quietly beside her rocker and let the adults talk. If we started to say anything, it would result in a knuckle rapping down on our heads. And to make it worse, mom and dad never said a thing about it. I believe I can still feel scar tissue under my scalp to this day.

"It's just the way Grandma is Pete," my dad would often say. "She whacked my head when I was little in the same way and I lived through it and you will too!" Obviously there was no sympathy from him.

I was grateful we only went over there on Sundays to visit. My hatred for her was shared by my older sister, who was a couple years older than me. And that was about the only thing that Annie and I ever agreed on. We both hated her guts. But we figured we could put up with her since it was only for a couple of hours one day a week.

Then life changed for the worse.

Grandma had a stroke and didn't have the decency to just die from it. And as it was, she had no one to take care of her. I was about 8 at the time, but understood that she had almost bit the bullet. Secretly I asked God why he just didn't send her straight to hell ... I mean why wait, she was going to end up there anyway.

But the real misery was just about to get started.

Dad had been working at the paper mill and when the company relocated from Michigan to Alabama, he found himself out of steady work and holding down several part time jobs to make ends meet. Grandma Miller's stroke was an answer to his problems.

Since she couldn't take care of herself, Grandma Miller suggested that our family move in with her. There was plenty of room she said, and truth be told, her old house was pretty big. And it wasn't out in the country where we lived back then. It was just a few blocks from the town center. That would make it nicer for me to be with my friends and walk to school. Still, I had major reservations, which would prove to be well founded in the future.

Annie and I would get the two upstairs bedrooms along with a full bathroom. Mom and Dad would get the downstairs bedroom and there was another full bathroom for them as well. Grandma Miller would take the den which was in the back of the house and turn that into her bedroom.

Annie and I had no voice in the matter. Money was tight and this would solve everything, at least that is what Mom and Dad said. And we eventually made the move. This is where the real nightmare begins.

Grandma Miller was what you would call high maintenance. It wasn't that she needed constant care, but she sure in the hell acted like she did.

Dad was the smart one. He was still holding down two full-time jobs. I think he did it just so he didn't have to help around the house. That left mom to do all the domestic stuff. Back in the 1960s that wasn't so unusual, but still it was a lot of work, especially with Grandma Miller.

Within a few days of getting ourselves settled, one Saturday evening Mom and Dad called Annie and me into the living room one evening after supper. I'll never forget the conversation.

"Annie, Petey" Mom began, "I think it is time that you two started to have a little responsibility around here."

Already I didn't like where this was headed. I looked at Annie and her face kind of squinched up at that statement.

"Your dad and I both think that this will be good for you two."

"Uh," Annie started, "Exactly what do you mean? I already help you sort the clothes, and Tommy takes out the trash every day. And we both do dishes together."

"Yes," Dad said, "And you do a good job of it all too, but we think that you need to start helping with Grandma. It's too much for your mom to do alone, and I'm working all the time, so we need you to step up and pitch in with her care as well."

"It's not going to be a whole lot of work," Mom interjected quickly, "Just some basic duties so I can do other things like get breakfast going in the morning and do some other things that need to get done."

I was really curious as to what she expected us to do? I mean I was only 8. Okay, so I was almost 9 and Annie was almost 13, but still we were kids.

"I think what we need you two to do is help Grandma in the mornings before you start getting ready for school. Annie, what I would like you to do is when I call for you in the morning, I would like you to help grandma get on the portable commode. When she is done with her morning toilet, help her wipe herself, bring her a washcloth to clean her hands with and then call Tommy.

Tommy, you need to take the commode to the bathroom and dump it and wash it out. When you are done, spray some Ajax cleaner in the bowl and then roll the commode back to Grandma's room.

This normally takes me about 30 minutes total, and if you two will pitch in and take care of that, then I can concentrate on making lunches and getting breakfast going."

"YOU MEAN I GOT TO CLEAN HER BUTT!" Annie yelled.

And I was quick to add, "AND I HAVE TO DUMP HER STINKY POOP!!?"

Dad in a moment of his self-righteous indignation stood up and let himself be heard.

"That's enough! I don't want to hear another damn word about it from either of you two. Your mom told you what you needed to do and you will do it. Do you understand, and your answers had damn well better be 'yes sir."

"Yes sir," I said meekly. I knew dad was pissed.

"Yes father," Annie added looking at the floor.

"I'm disappointed in the both of you tonight; I think you can go to your rooms until bedtime to think about how you behaved this evening."

And that was it. Without muttering another word, Annie and I slinked off to our bedrooms.

Before entering my room, Annie looked at me and said, "You got it easy, all you got to do is dump her shit. I have to wipe her nasty ass and wash her stupid face. You always get it easy."

I knew Annie was right, but still I countered, "Oh yeah, well you will graduate from school in about 5 years, I still have 9 solid years of poop duty if the old hag is still around."

Annie thought about what I said, and then gave me a smile. Not one of those smiles that say, "I love you brother and understand your pain," no, it was one of those smiles that said, "Ha ha, I hope you suffer for all 9 years too!"

Poop duty started the very next morning. Mom woke us both up 30 minutes earlier than normal. Annie and I wandered downstairs. Mom had told me I could go and get a quick shower while Annie was working with Grandma and then dump here commode afterwards. But I didn't want to. I figured it would be better to shower after handling her shit than before.

As it turned out, I got screwed again. After Grandma Miller took her morning dump, Annie couldn't wipe her and hold her by herself. So I was called in to hold Grandma Miller upright, while Annie lifted the back of her sleeping gown and wiped her butt.

She stunk so bad I almost vomited.

"Don't you let go you little shit," Grandma Miller started, "You hold me tight!"

"I won't let you go grandma," I said while thinking how much fun it would be to do just that.

As I was holding grandma, Annie was wiping her, wrinkling up her nose and eyes at the disgusting sight and smell.

Grandma Miller took a laxative every evening and it made her poop all smeary and messy and it really stunk bad.

"Go easy there girl," grandma hollered out in her funny speech, "That ain't a frying pan you are trying to scrub, I'm tender back there!"

Annie finally got her clean and dumped everything in the commode. Together we got her back into bed and then Grandma Miller added, "I bet both of you little bastards will be glad when I croak, don't you."

I never said a thing back; after all I didn't want to lie to her. Still after I left the room, the idea made me grin.

Annie ran off to grab the shower while I took the commode to small half-bath off the kitchen. There I dumped her nasty stuff and then rinsed out the bucket, finally spraying it down with Ajax liquid disinfectant. I felt like maybe I should spray myself down as well. By the time I had finished, I rushed back upstairs to take my shower since Annie was done and in her bedroom getting dressed. As usual, she had used up all the hot water and I took a shower in tepid water that eventually turned cold before I even got out. Such was the life of an 8 year old.

Evening time wasn't quite so bad. At suppertime, Annie would carry in her food and put it on her bedside table and grandma would sit up and eat. The rest of us would eat our supper at the same time grandma was eating. I don't know why she didn't come to the table; she could have easily in her wheelchair. But she didn't.

After eating, Annie would go pick up grandma's dishes and carry them to the kitchen and start washing them.

My duties were simple as well. Mama would get all of grandma's pills and medicine together and it was my duty to take them to her with a glass of water. Also when she was done, I had to take her teeth and wash them off and put them in a cup overnight.

Grandma took a lot of pills, almost 19 of them, and a little paper medicine cup of some clear stuff that smelled like cherries to help her sleep. Then I would go dry the dishes with Annie and together we would put them away.

By 7:00 p.m. Grandma Miller would be fast asleep. Mom and dad would be watching TV. Sometimes I would join them, other times Annie would join them, and sometimes we all would be together watching TV. You could tell the time by our routine it was so exact every day.

To my bitter disappointment, Grandma Miller continued to live. By the time I was thirteen I figured that I had dumped her nasty shit over a thousand times. I don't know how I managed not to have genetic damage from inhaling her toxic waste, but I didn't.

Annie was almost 17 now, a junior in high school, and she still did her ass wiping duty, but wasn't happy about it. Nothing had changed except for the evening duties. I was now old enough to count out her pills and pour her sleep medicine myself.

One change that happened is that neither Annie nor I watched TV much in the living room any longer. After our duties were done, most often, Annie would go out with her girl friends, or an occasional date and I would go to my room and read or work on my model cars or whatever.

Every Friday, Annie would have one of her girl friends come over for sleep over. They would stay in her room pretty much and play music and do whatever girls normally did back then. I was pretty clueless as to what they did, and didn't want to know either. I preferred the quiet and solitude of my own room. About the only thing I didn't like was the fact that Annie made so damn much noise. Playing music and laughing, it kept me up and I couldn't go to sleep when I was tired.

I had told mom about it, but she said, "Annie isn't that loud, I think you are just being cranky."

Another battle lost I thought to myself. Annie always got what she wanted, and always got her way. Of course mom and dad didn't think it was noisy, they were downstairs in the living room, about as far from Annie as they could get. I was in the room next to hers and could hear the racket first hand.

That was when I had my big brainstorm!

If that cherry smelling syrup could make the old bitch sleep, maybe it could help me. So on the pretense of getting a bottle of Coke, I poured a medicine cup full of Grandma Miller's bedtime juice for myself. I drank it down, careful to wad the paper cup up and toss it in the trash with the others. Then I took the coke upstairs to my room to see if it worked.

Well it did, kind of. Not perfect, but it did make me feel sleepy, and that Friday night as Annie and her dyke friends played music, I fell asleep at nine o'clock rather than being kept awake till midnight like normal.

The next Friday, I tried two medicine cups of the medicine, and found myself getting drowsy much earlier. This stuff was like magic.

Through experimentation I soon discovered that if I took doses, which was about 8 teaspoons of the stuff, I would be knocked out within 15 minutes and I didn't wake up. Not at all. Yet in the morning, I would be awake and around like I never took a thing at all. This stuff was great.

I got into a simple routine on Fridays. Rather than pour the medicine into a medicine cup, I just poured it into my bottle of Coke. It was like drinking a cherry Coke, except that when I was done, I would be getting sleepy. And I learned that the medicine was called Chloral Hydrate and it was pretty cheap as I had to pick up a bottle from the pharmacist on my way home from school every couple of weeks.

My only problem was that I had to limit it to Fridays, which was fine by me anyways, since I didn't want Grandma Miller to come up short on her medicine.

I pretty much solved that by giving granny only half doses throughout the week, and it didn't seem to make any difference to her. She slept fine and never questioned her dosage.

Within six months I was now sleeping like a baby on Friday nights. That was until July came around.

You see, sometimes, not all the time mind you, but sometimes, I would spy on my sister. It was pretty easy. I would just walk into my closet and close the door. The back of my closet wall was the wall to my sister's room.

You see what happened is that my room and my sister's room was once one big room. Then grandpa had divided the room into two rooms by framing a closet in each room and covering the frame with sheetrock. The distance from the inside of my closet wall to Annie's room was the thickness of the sheetrock, about 1/2 of an inch. That was why the sound traveled so easily, there was no insulation or real wall between our rooms, just a think piece of sheetrock.

Well, evidently at one time Annie had hung a picture on the wall with a nail. That spot was on the back of my closet. But I guess over the years she had taken the picture down or something.

The point is this: If I were in my closet with the door closed, I could see a tiny pinpoint of light shining through from Annie's room to my closet. And if I stood really close to the hole and looked through, I could see clearly into Annie's room. I could see everything.

The first time I spied on my sister it was exciting. I mean I was only 10 when I discovered it. Watching her dry herself off, change her clothes, look at herself in the mirror ... holy shit Batman, this is cool!

And over the next couple of years, it provided me a lot of graphic instruction on the development of the female teenager. But believe it or not, you can only look at your naked sister so many times and even that becomes boring. So for the most part I just gave it up.

Fridays however were another story. Since she would have a girlfriend over on Fridays, I would peek at them through the closet wall as they changed into their nighties. I think I saw the ass and bush and tits of nearly every 11th grader female in my school. Pretty sweet deal I had back in those days. And being 13 myself, it provided a lot of fodder to whack off to before swallowing my magic sleep potion to knock myself out so I could sleep with her music playing.

It was during one of those peeping spy sessions that I watched my sister kiss another girl. I thought that was kind of sick and it didn't turn me on at all. But when they undressed and climbed onto the bed things got hot.

Annie was rubbing her hairy bush all over Mindy's. Then Mindy moved around in bed and started kissing Annie's tits. That is cool I thought. But what came next was even cooler. Mindy reached over and opened her purse and took out a vibrator.

I had no idea what it was having never seen one in action. Mindy started rubbing it all over her twat. She was moaning as Annie kissed her and pinched her nipples. Then Mindy stuck the damn thing up her pussy. I stood there in the closet watching and suddenly realized I hadn't been breathing.

I was mesmerized as she slid that thing in and out. And I was hard as a rock myself. I mean you could have cut diamonds with my dick it was so hard.

I didn't move, I just watched and when Mindy groaned and went limp I knew that she had cum. Then she took her plastic wand and started rubbing it against Annie.

Annie looked like she enjoyed it as well but never stuck it inside her snatch. I really wondered why, but figured there must be a reason. Anyways the thing kept making a low buzzing noise and Annie finally arched her back holding her pillow over her mouth so she wouldn't make noise. Then she collapsed just like Mindy.

I listened as they got off the bed and put on their nighties. Mindy looked at Annie and said, "You need to lose your virginity. It feels so much better to cum with Mr. Plastic inside of you."

Then she kissed my sister and the two of them climbed into bed and turned off the light.

I was so keyed up after watching them that it took me a whole 20 seconds of stroking to shoot my wad that night.

And then after a whole two minutes of recovery time, I did it again.

I learned two things that night. My sister was still a virgin, and that it took more of granny's sleep medicine to work on me after watching something like that.

By the time summer came around, I was a frustrated horny teenager. Watching my sister get off on Friday evenings just wasn't doing it for me any longer. If we had been close and loved each other like you read in all the other incest stories, then maybe I might have taken a different approach to my problem. But we weren't.

The only thing we had in common was an intense hatred of Grandma Miller.

By this time Dad was only working one job, but still expected us to take care of his mother. HIS mother, not mine! That really pissed me off. He didn't do shit for her at all and expected Annie and me to do it all, well that is all that mom didn't do.

As for Annie and her stupid friend Mindy, I was still the butt of their rude jokes and comments. If Mindy called me 'pencil dick' one more time I was going to whip it out and show her just how much of a dick it was.

The name calling had started about a year earlier. One Friday evening I was getting ready for bed. I had gone to the bathroom to take a shower after watching her and her dyke girlfriend make out, maybe giving myself some much needed relief while showering.

Well after spanking the monkey and taking care of business, I was on my way back to my room with just the towel wrapped around my waist when I met my sister and Mindy in the hallway. I guess they were going downstairs to get a snack or something. Anyways, just as I passed them, I felt my towel being pulled. I grabbed for it, but I was too late.

"Oh my god," Mindy said, "Look at the little pencil dick!"

I was so embarrassed. Standing there stunned, in the nude, while her 17 year old girlfriend started laughing at me. I know I wasn't the biggest guy in my gym class, but crap, did they have to tease me about that as well?

"Give me my towel," I growled softly, "Or else!"

"Or else what?" Mindy asked.

"Or I'm going to go downstairs and tell mom and dad what you and Annie just did to me."

"Oh take your damn towel," Annie said tossing it to me, "There's nothing to see anyway!"

I grabbed the towel and held it in front of me. Why I don't know, they had already seen everything. I just felt like dying. But that was the beginning of the nickname ... pencil dick.

Even at school later that week in gym class, Mindy's brother Tom, another bully, snapped me in the ass with a wet towel. As I yelped and jumped, he called out, "Better move it pencil dick before you're late for class." Laughing he started snapping others. But I already knew that Mindy was the one behind it, otherwise how did he come up the nickname?

I hated Mindy, I hated Annie, and I had to figure out how to get back at them. And then I had my brainstorm.

You see, unbeknownst to my parents, Annie and Mindy weren't always alone in her room. The past couple of sleepovers they had a visitor. I only knew about this because I heard a thud against the house one Friday. I knew the sound came from Annie's room so I decided that I would take a peek.

Looking through my peep hole I saw Mindy and Annie standing by the window when a boy came in through the window. I had no idea how he managed to get to the second story window, but there he was. I recognized him as Terry, a senior who was dating Mindy. I wasn't sure of his name, but knew that he was a jock of some type.

Annie kept trying to quiet him.

"Shhhhh," she said softly, "My parents are downstairs."

I watched as he pulled a small flask from his pocket and offered it to Annie. She took a sip and puckered her lips up and handed it back to the boy. Then Mindy took the flask and took down a swig. Some type of booze I thought to myself as I spied on them through the peephole.

Then without further talking, he started to take off his shirt. At the same time both girls started to undress. When everyone was naked and lying on my sister's bed, the action really started to get hot.

I couldn't believe it. Terry was kissing Mindy and Annie all over their bodies. He'd kiss one first, then the other. Then he'd switch back. He grabbed their tits and squeezed hard enough that it looked like it hurt them, but they just grabbed him back. This went on for a while, at least half an hour.

Finally he pushed Mindy back and pushed her legs apart. Then he handed Annie a condom which she put on his dong. It was big. I had to admit, but it wasn't huge or anything weird, just big like a grownups. I knew that I was smaller than him and it made me think that maybe I was a pencil dick.

After the condom went on, he lay atop Mindy and entered her. He started slowly and softly at first, and then as time went on he started humping her big time with lots of motion.

Annie was right next to them, rubbing his balls as he slammed into Mindy. Mindy looked like she was having the time of her life and was holding the cheeks of his ass pulling him into her.

Finally I watched Mindy raise her back up and I knew that she was having her orgasm. I'd seen it many times before with my sister ... sometimes with a dildo, sometimes with just my sister kissing her pussy.

After Mindy came, her boyfriend grunted and pushed himself into her as deep as he could and just held himself there before collapsing on top of Mindy.

A few minutes later he rolled to the side, pulling out of Mindy. Annie carefully slid the condom off his dick and held it up for everyone to see. Smiling, she rolled it up into some tissues and tossed it onto her waste basket.

Then it was her turn. She didn't have intercourse like Mindy, but Mindy sucked her tits while Terry licked her pussy. It didn't take long, maybe less than five minutes. I guess she was already horny from watching Mindy and him a few minutes earlier. But Annie came pretty hard holding his head to her groin. Then they all kissed one another.

A few minutes later he got dressed and went out the same way he came in. The girls giggled and talked softly for a few minutes and then climbed into Annie's bed, not even bothering to put on their normal pajamas.

If I was suffering with a case of the blue balls before, then after watching what had just happened I was worse than before. I ached so badly that I had to whack off 3 times before I was finally able to fall asleep.

No doubt about it. From now on, Fridays would require a triple dose of Grandma Miller's sleep medicine.

I awoke the next morning with my sister shaking me by the shoulder. My eyes slowly opened trying to take in what was happening.

"Come on P.D., wake up," she said, "Mom wants you down for breakfast."

"Petey," I replied smiling, "You haven't called me Petey since I was a little kid."

"I didn't call you Petey, I called you P.D. for pencil dick!"

My smile disappeared as I realized that there was no sibling love or compassion here ... it was only the bitch being true to herself.

"Fine," I retorted coldly, "Get the hell out of my room so I can get dressed."

Annie stood up like she was going to leave, and then before I knew it, she grabbed the sheet and whipped it off the bed. I was completely naked as she stood there laughing at me. And to make matters worse, hearing the laughter of my sister, Mindy decided to step into the bedroom just as I was trying to cover myself with my pillow.

"Oh gawd..." Mindy began, "Is the little pervert flashing you again?"

"Not much to flash," Annie said smiling, "Just a baby's tiny little squiggle worm."

"Get out," I yelled!

"Better hurry up or mom will be coming up here, and you don't want her to see you with your little thingie hanging out."

I hated her, I hated Mindy, and I hated everyone!

After breakfast, Mindy went home and Annie went with her. Girls' day at the shopping mall as was every Saturday. I did what I normally do, kept to myself in my room plotting a million ways I could get even.

I had thought about just telling mom and dad about Annie and Mindy, but then I would have to explain the hole in the closet and knew that I would be in worse trouble than them. Tattletales were never treated well in our house.

I thought that maybe one evening when everything was going on strong, I could just sneak down and tell dad that there were some strange sounds coming from Annie's room and that he might come up and investigate. That had potential, but would only be a short term solution, and I would still be vulnerable to Annie. I'm sure she would figure it out and I'd be dead meat. I really didn't know what to do until the old bitch, Grandma Miller, gave me an idea that I knew would be perfect.

You see it wasn't until Tuesday evening when I was giving Grandma Miller her medicine that she gave me the idea that would change everything. I had just given her all of her pills and was giving her the medicine cup with the sleep medicine in it when she took it and looked at it.

"You sure this is the right amount?" she questioned.

"Yes grandma, it's the same amount you get every evening."

"You wouldn't be trying to poison me would you?" she asked.

"No grandma, it is the same as every evening, exactly one medicine cup full," I replied.

"You know if you gave me too much, I might not wake up at all"

"Grandma, I would never do that," I said sarcastically, "I love you too much."

If telling a lie guaranteed you a spot in hell, then I was sure to be number one on the list. Because that was the biggest and boldest lie I had told to date.

"Okay, just checking," she said, "Back when your grandpa was alive I gave him some of my sleep medicine when he has wretched his back to help him sleep. I have him double what I take and the house could have burnt down before I could get him awake. Even the next morning he was still sleeping. You sure wouldn't want to give this to anyone else, that's for sure."

Fireworks went off in my head! Holy shit, I had been going about this all wrong, instead of me taking the sleep medicine to put myself into a state of unconsciousness, I could have been giving it to someone else. Someone who I hated with a passion. Someone who called me names and teased me. Someone who was deserving.

Then a big smile came to my face and I actually leaned over and kissed grandma goodnight. She looked at me kind of strange, but then said to me, "Oh you silly boy, go on and get out of here so I can get some sleep."

Then as I was closing her door she added, "You are a sweet boy Petey." I was so stunned I couldn't say a thing.

The first part of my plan had to take place that Wednesday evening. I poured Grandma Miller's medicine into the paper cup, and then I poured the rest of the bottle into an empty bottle. I took the bottle and hid it in my room. Then I went to the refrigerator and got out some Karo syrup, carefully pouring it around the top of tray that held grandma's medicine. Putting the bottle back, I called mom into the room.

"What's up Petey" she asked.

"Mom, I'm sorry," I said, "But when pouring grandma's medicine tonight I accidently knocked over the bottle making a mess."

Mom picked up the pill bottles and took them to the kitchen sink. Wiping them off with a dish cloth, she sat them on the counter to dry.

"Did you count out grandma's medicine yet? She asked.

"Yeah," I said, "I already gave grandma all of her pills and I have the sleep medicine here that I had poured out before knocking the bottle over."