Date: Mon, 30 Nov 2009 16:39:11 -0800 (PST)
From: Peder Pederson <pederdagreat@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Sacrifice, A Trilogy

-------------------------------------------------------

The Sacrifice:
A Trilogy





by





D. V. Zomba

Copyright 2001


Contents

Prologue	3
I	14
II	41
III	68
IV	93
Epilogue	122
Prologue


	In Asia, karma is a real, viable concept. Whether Buddhist or
Hindu, fate or karma pervades all. Even the Muslim community gives tacit
acceptance to this precept. The law which states, "For every action, there
is a reaction," is accepted, but only with the true knowledge that karma
rules all! There are certain circumstances, certain events for which the
individual has no control. It is karma !

--1980--

	Pandattarippu is about ten or fifteen miles north of Jaffna. A
large town on the Jaffna Peninsula--a misnomer--peninsula! The Jaffna
Peninsula was more an island than a peninsula. It was a geographic anomaly!
	In 1975, Kamaraja had moved his family from the relative security
of Madras, now Chennai, to the unknown, to Pandattarippu. The move was
partly due to the absolutely squalid circumstances he had labored under for
many years and not undertaken without some hazards.
	As a Shudra, there was little opportunity for true advancement in
Madras. The Jaffna Peninsula and, indeed, northern Sri Lanka was peopled
mostly by Tamils--Shudra and Vaishya castes.
	Colombo vainly tried to stem the tide of the migration of these
Tamils, but the close proximity of this northern peninsula to the mainland
made policing difficult. The immigrants flowed in.
	Kamaraja had relatives in Pandattarippu, so there was an entrée and
the obtaining of the proper documents was not difficult. These forgeries
had attained a high level of accuracy and, besides, the Sri Lankan police
were loath to cause too much trouble. Kamaraja and his small family quickly
blended into the warp and weft of the local culture.
	Kumar, Kamaraja's only son, was forever being warned by his parents
to behave and be suitably restrained and respectful--in other words:
'low-key.' It was difficult for him, as Kumar possessed a natural,
expansive personality. Still, when in public, he dissolved into the crowd
and appeared no different from the other thirteen year olds of
Pandattarippu.
	School was important, especially for Lotta, Kumar's mother. She had
finished high school--her husband had not. That was always a sore point
with Kamaraja. Still, he supported Kumar's schooling and saw to it that the
young boy completed his homework every afternoon. It was a mark of pride
for the family--to have a son who was educated!
	Kumar was a bit taller than his classmates. His preadolescent frame
presaged a lean, muscular adulthood, which, doubtlessly had been inherited
from both his parents--both Kamaraja and Lotta were taller than the average
and both were a lean, handsome couple. Kumar's dark, almond-shaped eyes
were large and luminous, framed by arching black eyebrows and separated by
an aquiline nose with slightly flared nostrils. His mouth was generous and
his teeth were straight and white. When he smiled--it was undeniably
infectious and brilliant. He also possessed a dimpled chin which his mother
found to be his only flaw! Lotta had been raised in a highly superstitious
family--not unusual for that area--and a dimpled chin was thought to auger
no good.
	Everyday, on his way home from school, he passed the house of Jai
Singh, a local business man who was reputed to be the wealthiest man in
Pandattarippu--not a particular high achievement in that town as all were
relatively poor. Still, Jai Singh's house seemed a palace to young
Kumar. In actuality it was larger than most--a medium-sized bungalow on its
own bit of property, surrounded by a whitewashed wall.
	Most times, Kumar slowed his pace as he passed Jai Singh's house
and would gaze at the manicured lawn and garden through the wrought-iron
gate. Both the lawn and garden were remarkably well kept--unusual in that
community where all available time was focused on eking out a living.
Several times he would see the master of the house, Jai Singh, in his
yard. The older man, when he happened to glance in Kumar's direction at
first would merely return to the business at hand. Then, once, he nodded at
Kumar when eye contact was made. Kumar respectfully averted his gaze and
hurried past. Jai Singh was a Kshatriya--the caste of rulers! Proper
respect must be rendered to one's betters!
	Several time in the ensuing weeks Jai Singh would glance up and see
Kumar looking at him as he passed and the older man nodded as if to an
acquaintance. Each time, the young boy would glance away as if
embarrassed. Then one day, Kumar flashed his brilliant smile at the
'wealthy' business man. After that, the smile was de rigueur.
	Several weeks later, at the meager dinner, Kamaraja announced, "Jai
Singh stopped me today as I passed his establishment and asked whether you,
Kumar," he said with a nod in the boy's direction, "would be willing to
work a few hours on Saturdays--helping him in his garden. I said, 'We would
be honored!' The pay will not be much, but anything will help."
	Of course, there was no question that any remuneration would be
deposited into the family's coffers for all to benefit. The fact that Kumar
would be contributing to the family's welfare was a source of immense pride
to him.
	"Yes, father . . . . I would be honored."
	"Good! But remember, son, you must show proper respect. Jai Singh
is a great man!"
	"Yes, father."
	That Saturday, Kumar bathed as usual and donned a clean shirt and
shorts--almost the full extent of his meager wardrobe. Quickly he walked to
the home of Jai Singh, knocked at the gate and respectfully waited until a
servant opened it. He was told to wait and, "The master will attend to you
shortly."
	He stood just inside the gate, gazed about the confines of the yard
and waited. Shortly, Jai Singh emerged from the house and called the young
boy to him.
	"You will work in the garden." he announced without preamble. "You
will do as I say."
	"Yes, sir." Kumar answered with sufficient modesty and eyes cast
down.
	"Good! Now come with me and I will show you what I want done!" The
older man moved off and circled the corner of the house, moved into the
back and to a wooden shed in the corner of the property. "All the tools you
will need are in here," he stated as he unlatched and opened the door.
	"Yes, sir." Kumar again answered.
	Turning, Jai Sing strode, imperiously to a rather large flower
bed. Kumar obediently followed.
	"I want all the weeds removed from this bed and the soil loosened."
	"Yes, sir."
	"And be careful, boy, that you don't harm any of the flowers!"
	"Yes, sir."
	"Good! This should take most of the morning . . . . and do a good
job! I'm not paying you for nothing.!
	"Yes, sir. I will do it right, sir."
	"Of course, you will," and with that Jai Sing went back into his
house.
	All morning Kumar pulled the weeds and loosened the hardened dirt
in the large bed. It was hot and he was thirsty. Still, he dare not ask for
a drink of water. He must remember to bring some with him when he returns
next Saturday. When he had finished, he returned the tools to the shed,
closed and latched the door. Then, timidly, he knocked lightly on the back
door. The servant who opened the gate for him opened the door.
	"Yes?" she said.
	"I am finished. Is there anything else the master wants done?"
	"I'll ask. And, in the meantime, go to the spigot there," nodding
to her left, "and wash yourself. You are filthy!"
	"Yes, ma'am."
	Kumar trotted over to the spigot and quickly washed his hands and
legs--paying special heed to his dirty knees and feet. He also took larges
gulps of the cooling water to slack his thirst. Then he dashed the soothing
water over his face and stripped the beads of water off--as best he could.
	"Did you do a good job?" The voice of Jai Singh behind him startled
Kumar.
	Quickly he turned around and rubbed his hands on his shorts--drying
them. "I think so, sir" he answered. Jai Singh stood before him wearing a
light cotton shirt, a white sarong flipped to reach his knees and leather
sandals.
	"Let me see." The master walked over to the garden and made a show
of inspection. "Hmm, an acceptable job," he grudgingly admitted. "Did you
put the tools back properly?"
	"Yes, sir. I think so."
	"I will check! Follow me!"
	Obediently Kumar followed the older man. Jai Singh opened the door
and entered the shed. Kumar followed.
	"Humph," Jai Sing said in disgust, "The hoe and rake are in each
other's place. Change them!"
	"Yes, sir." Quickly Kumar went over the the two offending tools and
switched them. Suddenly, the interior of the shed was darkened. Kumar
turned, wondering. Jai Sing had closed the door and stood there with his
sarong pulled up to his waist exposing the older man's genitalia.
	Kumar was aghast! He had never seen the cock and balls of an adult,
and in truth he was startled and confused.
	"Come over here, boy!" Jai Singh commanded.
	Kumar obeyed and stepped over to where he partially nude figure
stood.
	Jai Singh leered at the frightened boy and licked a bit of spittle
off his lower lip.
	"You know what to do?"
	"No . . . .sir!" Kumar stammered.
	"Suck it!" came the command.
	"Suck . . . . it?" Kumar asked incredulously.
	"Yes! Suck . . . my . . . cock!" he spat out. Saying that, Jai Sing
grabbed Kumar by the hair and pulled his face to his crotch.
	Kumar could not help but observe that the dark, hooded thing was
swelling and arching outward. He began to tremble.
	"Do what I say!" came the rasping command, as Jai Sing unerringly
moved his burgeoning cock to Kumar's trembling lips and forced it in.
	Kumar gagged! Still the invading member was not withdrawn. All
Kumar could think was: "This thing . . . . this dirty thing!" In truth, he
had only looked on his cock, any cock, as somewhat dirty, an organ of
elimination. He had been instructed as a young boy that after he had
eliminated to wash "your thing so it doesn't smell." That he always did,
automatically. But the thought of ever taking that "dirty thing" into his
mouth had never occurred to him. It was repugnant in the extreme.
	Jai Singh began to flex his hips, driving the hardened cock into
the boy's overburdened mouth. In and out, he fucked Kumar's face. Kumar was
paralyzed from mortification and shame as the thick, muscled thing moved in
and out. After four or five thrusts, Jai Singh gasped and Kumar suddenly
tasted a salty, viscous fluid flooding his mouth. Quickly Jai Singh
withdrew that offending thing, took a tissue from his shirt pocket, wiped
it off, dropped his sarong and quickly left the shed.
	Kumar gagged and spat out a copious amount of milky cum. He gagged
again, wiped the residue from his lips with the back of his hand and then
wiped his hand on his shorts. Leadenly, he bolted the shed door and
shuffled to the front gate.
	There he was met by the servant who announced, "Boy, the master
will see you here next Saturday." She then thrust a fifty rupee note into
his hand and closed the gate.
	Kumar could not answer, merely bowed his head and walked home.
	He gave the money to his mother, refused his sparse lunch, went to
his pallet, laid down, faced the wall and quietly cried himself into a
cleansing sleep.


	The next Saturday, Kumar trudged to the home of Jai Singh. There
was no question of him not going. Of course he had not told either his
mother or father what had happened. "They probably wouldn't believe me," he
thought. "It probably won't happen again," he tried to reassure himself. In
one sense he was right, in another, he was wrong.
	Jai Singh let Kumar in this day, announcing, "My family and servant
went to Jaffna yesterday!" Then he instructed Kumar what he wanted done in
the garden that day and disappeared into the house. Kumar had brought a tin
of boiled water with him that morning and set it in the shade of one of the
trees. All morning, he toiled at his task, and when he was finished, he
washed himself at the spigot and quietly knocked on the back door.
	"Finished?" Jai Singh asked as he opened the door.
	"Yes, sir."
	"Did you do a good job and put all the tools back in their proper
place?"
	"Yes, sir."
	"Good,." Jai Singh opened the screen and commanded, "Step in here
boy."
	Kumar obeyed and stepped into the small room at the back of the
house. It obviously served several purposes, a vestibule to the outside, a
pantry and a store of things not needed in the house. Jai Singh handed
Kumar a bundle and a fifty rupee note.
	"Here, boy, these are some clothes my son has long outgrown. They
may fit you."
	"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Kumar mumbled as he stood there,
waiting to be dismissed.
	Jai Singh observed the young boy in front of him. His eyes narrowed
as lust began to infuse his body. He stepped around Kumar and lightly ran
his hand over the boy's buttocks. He had been watching Kumar work from the
back window and the swell of that ass under the loose pants was most
desirable. He slid his hand under the waist band and fondled the smooth
rounded forms. Again he licked a bit of spittle off his lower lip and
yanked the shorts down.
	Kumar was again transfixed and confused. "What does he want?" he
thought.
	"Bend over!" came the imperious command.
	Kumar complied, unwillingly, but he had no choice! Then he felt Jai
Singh's hand insinuate itself between those smooth cheeks and deposit a
cool substance on his tight, sphinctered hole. Kumar began to tremble in
his incredulity!
	He had not long to wait!
	Jai Singh, pulled the sarong off and flung it to the floor. His
cock was rampant. Grabbing one hip with his right hand, he guided his
florid cock to that tight place.
	"Ahhhhh!" Kumar screamed as he was suddenly invaded. The pain was
indescribable! He dropped the parcel and his fifty rupee note and clawed at
his tormentor.
	"Hold still, boy!" came the command as he viciously plunged further
in.
	Kumar obeyed and sobbed.
	"Quiet!"
	Kumar bit his lip as tears of pain flooded his cheeks and
submitted.
	Jai Singh rammed his substantial cock in and out of Kumar's
ass. Soon the pain was masked, miraculously, by the natural mechanisms of
the body and became nothing more than a dull ache. He was unceremoniously
raped there in the vestibule of Jai Singh's house.
	As before, Jai Singh gasped and Kumar was aware of some internal
flood. As his cock was withdrawn, Jai Singh observed threads of blood on
his cock. "A virgin!" he exalted to himself! He wiped his cock clean as he
observed Kumar's still bent over, trembling form in front of him and the
bit of blood on the spasming hole.
	Half concerned he grabbed Kumar's left arm and propelled him
through the narrow door that led to the servant's toilet off the vestibule.
	"Clean up!" he ordered and closed the door.
	Kumar squatted, took the plastic ladle and began to tenderly wash
his violated hole. Suddenly he was gripped by bowel spasms and streams of
blood flecked cum was expelled. He again cleaned himself. Tears still
streamed down his face. Carefully he took the small bar of soap and washed
and rewashed his hands. Finishing his unwanted chore he carefully opened
the door. Jai Singh was not there. He stooped down, scooped up his shorts
and stepped into them.
	Suddenly, from the kitchen his tormentor loomed. Kumar began to
tremble anew.
	"Turn around," Jai Singh stated--this time more a request than an
order.
	Kumar saw the older man uncap a medicine tube and squeezed a dollop
on to his finger before he complied.
	"Bend over, boy, and lower your shorts."
	Kumar followed the request, he had no choice.
	He felt Jai Singh's finger insinuate itself back into his ass
crack, but this time more gently than before. The ointment was
administered.
	"There, that should help!" the man pronounced, then added, "You can
go now boy and don't forget the clothes and money!"
	Kumar had forgotten about both. Quickly he bent over to retrieve
the bill and the packet and left through he back door.
	He was surprised when Jai Singh met him at the gate. "You did a
good job today in the garden, boy." Then as an afterthought, "Be here next
Saturday, same time."


	For four more years Kumar A/L Kamaraja worked in the garden of the
'wealthy' Jai Singh. For four years more he submitted to sexual demands of
the Kshatriya master, not every week was he used by the 'master,' but often
enough. Somewhere, within those four years he began to derive pleasure from
the demands of Jai Singh. It was not that he looked forward to those
sessions, but when he was commanded to perform, he did so with increasing
pleasure. Yet, he never let Jai Singh know that the couplings were
increasingly agreeable or even physically gratifying to him. He merely
submitted. After all, he soon realized that it was the submission that so
enflamed Jai Singh's libido. He realized from experience--not just
sexual--that some people needed to dominate and some needed to submit.
	It wasn't until he had finished his schooling and left
Pandattarippu for Colombo that realized that he, too, preferred to
dominate. It was also at the same time that he realized that he could
passively dominate by appearing to submit. Particularly within the sexual
arena.
	Twice he paid a prostitute, both young women, seemingly fresh, but
in both cases the experience was not rewarding. Oh, he performed, performed
admirably, the two had told him, but . . . it was NOTHING!
	It was soon after he had arrived in Colombo that Kumar was walking
along the Kollupitiya Road one afternoon. Having to relieve himself he
entered a public toilet and began to urinate. Presently, a European man,
whom he had noticed earlier entered and stood near Kumar. He glanced over
at the man who smiled. Kumar nodded a greeting. However, he noted that the
man's gaze was fixed upon his cock.
	By his eighteenth birthday, Kumar had achieved his height and had
the build of a middle distance runner. He was amply endowed and decidedly
handsome. The European's obvious interest stimulated Kumar and he allowed
himself to stand there after the last drop of urine had been flicked off
the end of his dick. He began to become erect. Still The man's gaze did not
waiver. Again Kumar looked at the man who then ran his tongue over his
lips. The contact was obvious to Kumar although he had never "picked up"
anyone before. As a matter of fact his only two sexual encounters since
leaving Pandattarippu were the less than desirable liaisons with the two
female prostitutes.
 	Slowly Kumar stuffed his half erect cock back into his pants, went
to the basins, washed his hands and slowly left. He was followed as he
innately knew he would be.
	"Hi," the European said as he caught up with Kumar.
	"Hello," came the answer.
	"Are you busy?"
	"No."
	"Would you like to come to my hotel?"
	"Why not?" Kumar replied.
	Nothing more was said as they walked the short distance to the
hotel. No one took notice of the two as they entered the elevator and got
off on the seventh floor. Quickly the European unlocked the door, closed it
again after Kumar had entered, locked it and put on the safety chain.
	"You have a beautiful cock," The European said.
	"Thanx."
	They both stripped off their clothes and the European immediately
sunk to his knees in front of Kumar and began to suck his cock. This was
the first time anyone had sucked his cock and the feeling caused the young
Tamil to gasp in wonderment. Indeed, the European was quite accomplished.
	After a few minutes of frantic sucking the European stood up and
guided Kumar to the bed. He was older than Kumar--maybe in his early
thirties, but had a fit physique and an equally hard cock. Soon the two
were lasciviously sucking each in the normal soixante-neuf position. This
time Kumar's enjoyment was exponentially multiplied as his cock was being
sucked as he took the other man's cock into his mouth.
	After another few minutes, the European disengaged himself and
opened the drawer of the bedside table, withdrawing a tube of K-Y and a
packet of condoms. Kumar was ready for this--he was not surprised. But the
man, after removing one of the ultra-thin rubber sheaths turned and
carefully rolled it over Kumar's rampant cock. This was new!
	A dollop of K-Y was squeezed out and slathered over Kumar's rubber
encased cock and the remainder was deposited on the guy's ass. He straddled
Kumar's hips and slowly lowered himself on to that stiff, opulent
muscle. Instinctively Kumar thrust upwards.
	"Easy!" demanded the European, "You're big and I need to get used
to it!"
	That being said Kumar lay there and let the man proceed at his own
speed.
	The feeling of his cock popping past the guy's tight, sphinctered
hole and into that muscled tunnel was indescribably exciting. Soon the
European was pistoning up and down on that upstanding cock.
	"Ahhh," He commented, "That feels so good!" Then added, "What a
beautiful cock."
	Soon Kumar was meeting the downward moving hips with upward thrusts
of his own.
	"Yeah! Fuck me!" the guy breathed,
	And, Kumar did!
	For a week Kumar met this European every day and for two
nights. They explored each other and Kumar quickly became aware that
man-to-man coupling was infinitely more desirable for him that fucking a
prostitute. Edward, the European's name, introduced Kumar to a number of
different variations and the younger man was an avid pupil.
	"You are remarkable," Edward said one night after a number of
particularly passionate couplings.
	"Why do you say that?" Kumar asked with a certain degree of
familiarity.
	"Well most of the Indians I have been with cum once and they are
finished for the day! But, not you!"
	Kumar smiled. "Well, first, I am a Tamil, not an Indian! And
second, I guess I am either naturally horny all the time, or you make me
that way!"
	In truth, both applied. Kumar, he was to realize, had a substantial
libido. And, Edward had reveled to him the wonder of reciprocal passion as
well as various sensual techniques. Kumar was a quick learner and was able
to create his own variations. In the short span of a week, Kumar had
quickly developed into and adept and creative lover. It was a trait that
would allow him to gain certain heights of notoriety!
	Further Kumar came to realize, in time, that he possessed an inborn
preference for other men. It was not Jai Singh's unwanted and brutal
advances that had creaed this preference. It was karma.
	Edward had been generous, at least Kumar thought so. He had
purchased the young Tamil three pair of slacks and a couple of shirts in
their infrequent outings from the hotel room. On the night before Edward
was to return to England and after a particularly long and passionate
session, he stuffed something into Kumar's pant's pocket as he left.
	Kumar reached for the the object, but Edward said, "Later, look
later. Remember, it's just a small gift for all you have given me."
	"But, you already have given me so many clothes."
	Edward merely smiled as he kissed Kumar on the cheek and closed the
door. Kumar thought he detected tears in the European's eyes. After the
elevator began to descend, Kumar drew out two £100 notes from his pocket!
His eyes widened.
	"This could be all worth while," he smiled to himself.


	A year after Kumar had gone to Colombo, he returned to
Pandattarippu to visit his parents. He had gotten a job that allowed him no
latitude--only meager existence. Yet, he now had other means!  He was
pleased to give his parents what they thought was a sizable amount of
money.
	After three days he began to become bored! He loved his parents,
but life in Pandattarippu was stifling compared to Colombo. Late one
afternoon he decided to take a walk. He retraced the steps that he had
taken as a youngster along a narrow stream at the edge of town. The brook
meandered through bamboo groves and he would come here to rest his troubled
spirit, particularly after a session with Jai Singh. He had hacked out a
small spot in the middle of one of the groves to which he would have to
squeeze past the tall trunks to enter. This was his world. His
refuge. There he sat for an hour and allowed his spirit to rejuvenate
itself.
	On his way back to his parents he took a different path that
brought him past Jai Sing's house. He really had not consciously taken the
route.
	"Must be karma," he thought.
	"Is that you, Kumar?" came the familiar but loathsome voice from
the other side of the wall. Kumar's height no longer hid him.
	"Yes, sir." he leadenly answered. He was somewhat surprised that
Jai Singh called him by his given name rather than "boy!"
	"Come in and see the garden--not as nice as when you took care of
it."
	"It's nearly supper time," Kumar lied--his parents always ate a
late supper--well after dark.
	"Just a minute, Kumar. I must show you something!" This time the
voice carried with it the authority of a command.
	"OK," then, he asked, "Where's your family?"
	"Gone for a few days."
	Jai Singh opened the gate and led Kumar around to the back and into
the vestibule. Kumar knew what was expected.
	"I've missed you, boy!"
	The change of title was noted. Jai Sing was wearing loose,
drawstring pants. He began to fumble with them and then drew them down to
his ankles.
	"Suck me, boy!"
	"Lay down, I want you to lay down so I can suck you better!" Kumar
stated.
	Jai Singh's eyes widened. Kumar had never asked him to do anything
in the past. He had always been suitably submissive. Virtually silent in
their previous couplings. But this request promised something unusual and
it added fire to Jai Singh's already raging libido.
	"Not here, not on the tile!"
	"Then on the parlor carpet."
	The master's imagination was thrown into a quandary! Kumar had
never been so bold, so presumptuous before. His eyes bore into those of
Kumar's handsome face. Kumar flashed that brilliant smile, licked his lips
and winked lasciviously at Jai Singh. He decided to acquiesce, pulled up
his trousers half way, he walked, cock hard into the parlor. Kumar
followed.
	Jai Singh lowered himself onto the carpet, kicked off his trousers
and fondled his rock-hard cock. "Come on, boy! Do it!"
	Kumar slowly stripped off his shirt, pants and briefs. The sight of
that body further stoked a fire in the older man that needed no additional
fuel. Slowly Kumar turned around so that his backside faced he recumbant
figure. Kumar lasciviously rubbed his hands over his firm, muscular ass,
allowing two fingers to slide into the crack. Jai Singh was completely
mesmerized.
	Kumar turned back, knelt down, spread Jai Singh's legs and crawled
towards his thundering, hard cock!
	The older man had been so eroticized that he could only focus on
the delicious mouth that was about to suck him, not the object concealed in
Kumar's hand.


	Two days later the small city was buzzing! "JAI SINGH FOUND FOULLY
MURDERED!  His family had returned from Jaffna to find the body in the
middle of the parlor. The phone had be yanked from the wall. The police
were investigating . . . ." At least that's what the news paper stated, the
rest of the article merely recounted the "greatness" of this dead
man. There was much that was not printed.
	Several of the police who were the first to arrive after the
hysterical call, let it be known, surreptitiously, that Jai Singh was found
nude in the middle of the parlor!
	How embarrassing!
	Further, they leaked out that his "privates" had been severed and
that he had unceremoniously bled to death!
	How absolutely mortifying!
	Finally, only a very few of the closest friends of the
investigating police were told that the "privates" were stuffed into Jai
Singh's mouth! But, soon all the populous knew!
	How grizzly! How ghastly! How gruesome! Who could ever do such a
thing!
	There were no clues! No witnesses!
	It was karma!


	Two days later as Kumar sat in the return bus to Colombo, he
reclined and relaxed. He had vowed the night before that he would never
return to Pandattarippu again. He began to slip into sleep when he was
brought back to full wakefullness by a whispered statement.
	"Nice job!"
	Kumar wasn't sure! He must have dreamt it. He glanced at the man
sitting next to him incredulously! A Tamil, older than Kumar sat there.
	The man smiled, and whispered again, "Nice job!"
	Kumar's adrenaline rushed through his whole system as he masked his
alarm with a frown!
	"I mean, stuffing the guy's cock into his mouth . . . .  sheer
genius!"
	Kumar could no longer mask his alarm. First his eyes nearly bugged
out of his head then the lids closed to mere slits as every muscle was
called to readiness.
	Realizing that Kumar was at the point of explosion, he whispered,
"Relax man! I wish I had done that . . . after what he did . . . . to me
. . . . as a kid! Fuckin pervert!"
	Kumar relaxed somewhat, but was still alert.
	At one of the several rest stops along the way the two walked a
short distance and his seat mate related as how Jai Singh had abused him
for several years. How difficult it was for him and his wife, but she was
incredibly understanding, a good woman!


	Two weeks later, Kumar was contacted by a member of the Tamil
Tigers and within a year he had become a fully initiated member. He had
special talents. Talents of which the Tiger soon became aware. Talents that
could and would prove useful.