Twisted Sadist

Kamal stood clueless before his new boss. Hailing from an extremely poor family with illiterate parents had posed enough challenges for him. Thanks to a kind Christian missionary firm that operated in his slum. They did their best to educate children. Initially Kamal and his brother went to the church to eat breakfast. But, they insisted the children come to school and promised lunch too if they did.

Kamal was a bright student. He was always ahead of other in his class. He knew how to tackle people. Here he was in UAE, standing before the top executive of a construction firm. The executive was looking at his resume for the past five minutes. Kamal was a bit irked he was not asked to sit or offered anything to drink. The executive looked up just as Kamal decided to turn back.

"What is the size of your dick Kamal?" he asked.

Kamal's blood rose to his face. His poor background and third world country broken English had made him a laughing stock in places. But, this was a brutal insult. Nobody had dared to talk to him like this. The executive spoke before he could blast out.

"I am from India too. You are from Kerala. I am from Gujarat," he said mentioning the various State's they belonged to.
"We need your dick size and your blood sample, eye color and gene code. Go to this address. The lab here will get it all tested. Attach the details with your resume. You can start work on Monday."

"Am I appointed?" Kamal asked disbelievingly.

"Of course you are. You have great academics. You have started working from your school days to gain experience. Our company needs so many good construction engineers. I am thrilled to have you," the executive stood up and extended his hands further.

Kamal still couldn't believe his ears. He came to UAE saving every penny he had hoping for a bright future. He hoped to get some menial job. But, he had landed a dream job fit for his education in the very first attempt. The angst he felt before a minute had completely vanished now.

He took the card of the lab, thanked the executive and walked out. His appointment in the lab was within an hour. He had to go there directly. He was curious why they were checking all this. The lab assistant explained things to him.

"People from third world countries usually come with lots of infections, carrying diseases. The companies keep track of their health to prevent spread of epidemics. Your gene code analysis will help us determine what drugs will suit you best if you get sick and to manipulate your behavior."

Kamal did not understand the last part of it. "What is mani-plate?" he asked.

The assistant smiled, "to choose drugs that will work best on you," he said and started to measure his dick.

"Seriously, why is this necessary?" Kamal asked a little irritated.

"The Arabi's have specific rules. Men here are classified small, normal and big based on their size. You are a small. You will be assigned duties accordingly."

"This is bullshit. How is this connected to my brain?" Kamal burst out. The assistant shrugged his shoulders and opened a window nearby. It was a construction site with several workers.

"Do you see the man lifting the heavy boulders there? He is an African - deemed big. I suppose you don't want to get assigned to such jobs with your 50Kg body."

Kamal looked at the six and a half feet tall man with bulging muscles working hard in the scorching sun. For the first time in his life, he felt thankful for his malnourished body. "But, mine is normal. Not small," he argued.

"Five inches when aroused and three inches when not is not normal, it is small according to our classification. Nine inches when aroused and seven when not is the normal here. Your boss is a Big," the assistant said wrapping his tests.

Kamal felt embarrassed talking so openly to another man. He collected his credentials quietly and walked out of the lab. His mobile called. It was the top executive who interviewed him earlier. Actually he asked only one question which Kamal hadn't answered still.

"What is the size of your dick Kamal?" he asked again. Why are all the people so stuck on it. Crazy idiots, Kamal cursed his boss and answered, "I am a small sir."

"Mmmmm.......," there was a long pause on the other side. "I was hoping to get at least a normal. You know this is a construction company and we need men to do lots of physical work. But, it is OK. I did not have high expectations. You are too scrawny to look. I will assign you a suitable job by Monday. Come back to the office and submit the lab tests," his boss said.

When he went back to the office they gave him an identity card and an appointment order. Contrary to his expectations, he was not assigned the job of an engineer. His designation was "Handyman". The salary was as promised, juicy enough to lead a luxurious life. The job description clearly stated he has to do "anything and everything" stated by his boss and be at this beck and call at all times.

The contract was for two years. He went to meet his boss again, "Sir, I would like to clarify certain things. I am an engineering graduate. I would like to work on the site. I am proficient with computers. I can do office work too."

"Of course you will Kamal. That is why we pay you," his boss said.

"But, my designation says I am a handyman. Is the work something like being your secretary?" Kamal asked.

"Peon. Office Peon to be exact," his boss said. Kamal felt blood rising to his face again. He did not try so hard to become an engineer to work as a peon in some God forsaken office which classifies people on their dick size.

He opened his mouth to refuse the job offer. But, his boss spoke again, "Where are you staying? How much is your rent?"

"I am staying in a lodge. I have around ten thousand rupees in my saving."

"It will last only three more days here. I live alone in a huge villa. You can come and stay with me if you like. I pay over Five lakhs as rent. I will stop the maid and cook if you come stay with me. You can do their work and pay for your share of rent."

"But Sir, I don't want to work as a peon," Kamal kept saying.

"Don't call me Sir Kamal. It is too formal. Call me malik or master. Master will be better."

"I am not taking this job. I am having other offers too. I will pick another company," Kamal said.

"Kamal, today is Friday. The office is nearly closed for the weekend. You can retrieve your certificates only on Monday. You would have lost all your savings by then. You can't find a job by Monday morning. You will literally starve and stand in the street if you don't accept this offer. Homeless people are send straight back to the embassy and packed back to their country within two hours. Take this offer. You can change later."

Kamal was taken aback. He did not come this far to be deported back to his country losing all the money. The salary is good after all. He can change anytime.

"Come on sign here. I need to scan your eyes. Good. Come with me to my house. Give your lodge address. I will send someone to go retrieve your things."

"I have to go and bid my friends good bye," Kamal hesitated.

"Call them," the boss finished the conversation.

Kamal was a bit taken aback by the way things were moving. He had got his dream job in his dream company with a salary he couldn't believe. He was going to live in a luxury villa. But, he was still a servant and a peon. He couldn't discuss anything with anybody. His brain said grab the opportunity and make big money. His mind warned something was fishy.

He was giving his details to the pick up truck man when his boss bought his brand new Lamborghini beside him.

"Get in," he said. Kamal had never been in a car before. He had used only public transport. He was thrilled. The interior of the car looked stunning. Kamal kept inhaling the fresh scent again and again.

The boss kept asking him about his background, parents and siblings. He insisted to talk to his parents. If at all anything, he was quite respectful. His boss assured them their son is in safe hands and he will take good care of him. Kamal was stunned looking at the enormous villa. It had a pool and all modern amenities.

"I will blessed even if I get a chance to clean toilets here. Don't even think. Do everything he says. Try to be on his best side," Kamal blessed his luck getting in.

Chapter 2

Not a Clever Choice

The very first job given to Kamal in the villa was to wash his master’s clothes. The maid in charge seemed like she was expecting him. She took one good look at the boy and turned to his boss.
“It needs a lot of work. Excessive feeding,” she said. They both laughed like they heard a joke. Since, she was talking in Gujarati Kamal did not understand any of it. The maid led him to the laundry room straight and started giving him instructions in English.
There wasn’t much to do. From what Kamal could conjure, he had to hand wash a bucket full of master’s inner garments and sundry them. There were briefs, boxers and high quality underwear. Kamal set to work. It was hard to sit in the garden wearing trousers and full hand shirt. He started to sweat profusely in a few minutes. The edges of the trousers were starting to get muddy.
He did not want to soil his one good professional clothing. So, he took off the shirt and trousers after five minutes. He sat in the small rock in just his boxers washing the clothes before him diligently. He tried to guess the size of his master’s dick from his inners. The garments smelled sex and had enough liquids on them.
“He is rich and powerful. He looks like a demigod. Girls should be lining up to be with him,” Kamal thought. Someday, I will be like him. All the beautiful divas will line up to marry me. His thoughts kept wandering.
Master was looking at him from his bedroom window. “He is a natural. It is ten minutes since he got into the villa and he is already in his boxers,” he said to the person on the other end of the phone. The chef entered in full white uniform carrying refreshments. The master finished his call and pulled him to his lap eagerly.
“He is ugly,” the chef pouted.
“Not everyone will have your killer looks rabbit. That’s why the Arabian prince wants you in his harem,” he said kissing the chef deeply in his lips.
“But master, I am scared. How will I live without you?” he simpered like a child.
“Happily, luxuriously, like a prince,” the master said taking a piece of fruit loop and feeding it to him.
“He is a big old man. He won’t feed me like this or kiss me like you,” tears started to appear in the chef’s eyes.
“Stop complaining you little brat. What did I train you for all these years? Do you have any idea how much money the sheikh had paid for you? He gave me this entire villa. No more rent. It is in my name now. Your pretty ass is worth much more than you think,” master pushed him to bed and started pounding the boy roughly.
He could hear the boy sobbing. “Enough crying, start moaning,” master ordered. The chef controlled his tears in no time and started to moan like a sexy prostitute.
Kamal finished hanging the last piece of clothing in the garden. He saw the pickup truck arriving. He went to collect his things. There weren’t much. The truck driver gave him a mischievous look and winked at him. “So you are small?” he asked chuckling.
Kamal felt so insulted suddenly. The pickup truck man kept talking. “I am a normal you know. That’s why they gave me this job. Your master is a Big,” he said without waiting for the answer and drove away. Why does everybody know my master’s dick size here? Kamal wondered and came into the villa. He felt quite out of the place.
Even the sofa’s and curtains in the villa were extremely costly. He felt like a beggar standing at the entrance with his bags wearing just his boxers. The maid showed him to his room. To his surprise, the room was already occupied.
“It is our chef’s room,” she said, “he will go away in a fortnight. You have to share the room till then.” Kamal nodded and started to arrange his things. He opened a closet and was surprised to find a wide array of vibrators and dildos in them. He did not have any idea what they were. “What is this?” he asked the maid. She peeked in and smiled, “milk squeezers.”
He opened the drawer and saw variety of makeup items there. Kamal could make out only nail polishes and lipsticks. There were hundreds of items there. He closed it carefully and opened another drawer. This one was filled with perfumes and skin care items. The maid took out a French perfume and sprayed it leniently on him.
“Oh my God! This smells heavenly. What is this?” Kamal asked perplexed.
“Love potion,” the maid said pointing to the letters written on the bottle and replaced it.
Kamal searched everywhere and found the entire closet full. He pulled out the rack under the bed hoping to toss his things there. But, it was full too. There were beautiful velvet sheets stocked inside them. “It is all right,” the maid said, “You have only three bags. Put them under the dresser now.”
Kamal did as she said. He couldn’t wait to meet the chef who owned everything. The maid told him to take a shower and come down. Kamal entered the bathroom and was taken aback by its grandeur. His hut back in Kerala barely only had a small, dimly lit room. Their water closet was tiny. But, this was a king sized bathroom with a huge tub.
Kamal bathed, wore a T-shirt and a Lungi. He came out to see what else has to be done. The maid told him to wash master’s cars in the shed. It was a job Kama knew too well. He saw several cars in the shed. There was a clear timetable on the wall which mentioned which car should be cleaned which day of the week.
The maid gave him some basic instructions about the equipments to use and gave him a huge glass of juice. Kamal was thankful. He hadn’t eaten since morning and the juice tasted delicious.
“Thank you, this is the tastiest thing I have eaten in my whole life,” he said with genuine gratitude. “It’s ok dear. You are with master now. He will show you heaven if you do as he says. Press this button after you finish cleaning one car. I will bring another glass of juice and refreshments. You have to wash three cars today,” she said leaving.
Kamal set to work diligently. The security outside the shed kept checking on him now and then. Kamal remembered cleaning the cars of the Christian missionary organization that educated him. He used to hang out there often. He learned gardening, cleaning and cooking there. They kept him as their handyman.
Those skills were helping now. The security peeked and smiled checking the nearly cleaned car, “you are not lazy. I guess your ass won’t need too much prodding,” he said. Kamal did not understand his accent or what he said. The security patted on his shoulder and showed him a thumb up sign.
Kamal understood he was appreciating him. He pressed the button eager to get another juice. He also wondered why there was no intercom. He started cleaning the second car and the maid appeared in five minutes with juice and refreshments. Kamal ate to his fill again.
He worked for two more hours. He was exhausted by the end of two hours. Growing up in Kerala, this sunny country had made him sweat profusely. He came out signing the work sheets shown by the security. He understood he had to work eight hours a day and four hours work for the day had been logged.
The maid was waiting for him with the next chore. She asked him to scrub, wash and polish nearly twenty huge brass pots. Kamal knew how to do this as well. These brass pots had to be cleaned regularly. The plants in them should be removed carefully and replaced with new soil and manure every week after the cleaning process. Somehow he felt he was trained all his life for working in this villa. It took him two hours to finish the job and it was already midnight by then.
Kamal wondered where master was by then. The villa was quiet. But, he sensed there was a party going on in the other side. He was reluctant to go visit. He peeked into the kitchen in search of the maid. He saw a very handsome boy in a chef’s uniform there. He was busy cooking. He saw Kamal too.
He waved Kamal to come near him. Kamal went in reluctantly. He was dirty from handling all the plants. The chef was spec and clean. Kamal did not want to get into trouble with his roommate soiling his clothes. “Eriseri Christian Missionary?” the boy questioned.
“No, Keelpura Christian Missionary,” Kamal said smiling. He thought the chef was also from Kerala. Justifying his thoughts, the chef started to whisper in broken Malayalam, “chosen at first sight. You were trained to serve the elite just like me. Run away. Run away now. Escape while you can.”
The maid entered and the chef continued to cook like nothing happened. “What did he say?” the maid asked. “He told me to get cleaned up,” Kamal said sensing something fishy. The maid led him away to give him a short house tour. She showed him where the servant’s rooms and toilets were and the main parts of the house.
“There is a party going on in the other side. You have to clean the hall after it is over. It will take over two hours. You can go to sleep then. Finish your dinner before the party gets over and take a bath. I want you awake by the first church bell. You need to tend to the garden and start cleaning the house first thing in the morning,” the maid said.
Kamal felt the routine very familiar. The Christian missionary organization which helped him let him stay in their campus for weeks and sometimes months. He was assigned similar chores there. Kamal remembered the Chef’s warning. He felt something was fishy. But he completely forgot everything when he sat for dinner.
It was a meal fit for the kings. There were other servants eating with him. Some were taking food to the party for serving. Kamal wondered what master would eat if servants were given such rich food. “Master is very kind,” one servant who talked fluent Malayalam assured him. Since, he is from India he hires poor boys like us. We can live like kings if we do what we say. He serves the same food he eats to all of us.”
Kamal was really touched. His own family never did that. His father was a drunkard. He would come home fully drunk and grab anything the children had secured to eat. His mother hated his father and everything that came through him including Kamal and his siblings. She would often hide food or eat hurriedly to satisfy her own hunger before the children came.
Kamal’s respect for master grew ten times more when he came back in the middle of the party and checked whether all the servants had finished their dinner. Kamal waited and started to clean the party hall with the other servant who had become friendly with him. He was surprised to know his story was exactly like Kamal except that he was illiterate.
“Master is very kind. He bought me here after lots of trouble since I am not a skilled worker like you. He gave my family a huge sum. I am in five years contract. My family has already got my two years salary as advance since we have too much debt,” he kept talking.
“How long are you working here?” Kamal asked. “You know I can’t read or write. I don’t know to count too. I boarded the flight after watching the movie Jodhaa Akbar on its release date. Master took me to an AC theatre in a mall for watching the movie. That place looked like heaven. It was the best day of my life,” he said.
Kamal was shell shocked. That movie was released in 2008. It has been over ten years. “Did you go home after that?” Kamal asked. “No. I wish I do. I miss my family a lot. Master says he will send me to India with lots of gifts and two months leave once two years is over.”
Kamal felt fear tingling in all his nerves. He continued cleaning quietly. He fully understood the meaning of the Chef’s warning now. “This place is a honey trap. I have to get out of here,” he thought, “but I have to do it tactically.” He finished cleaning, logged in his hours and went to bed.
“What have I gotten myself into?” He wondered while he slept. He dreamed like he was flying. He was inhaling the best smell in his life. He was in bliss. “The hypnotic cassette is on,” he heard the maid say. He opened his eyes is shock. All he could see was two black and white swirling spirals. A very soothing voice said him to relax and let go. Kamal could not move his hands and legs. He felt like they were restrained. He also felt a needle prick on his back bum.
Kamal woke up to the sound of church bells the next day. He felt extremely refreshed and energetic. He just jumped out of the bed ecstatically. “I need to go tend the garden,” he thought. He went to take a shower. Something felt different. He saw scratches on his neck and hands. He had ejaculated on his inners. His ass felt funny.
It hurt a bit. It felt loose and weird. He put his fingers into it and scooped up a handful of gooey liquid. Kamal was initially confused. That’s not possible. I am a man. I can’t be raped. If so, I should be feeling dejected and tired. But, I feel fresher and stronger than ever in my life. Kamal cleaned up and went to the garden. He was the first one to arrive there.
The other boy he had befriended arrived shortly. “Master is just God. He knows exactly what his servants want. He gave me two months leave and a mighty bonus. I am going to India. He is taking me with him next week,” he said excited.
Kamal feebly remembered talking to him yesterday. He was genuinely happy for the boy. They started working in the garden. They were just wearing their boxers as they were toiling in the garden. They saw master wake up late since it was Saturday and talk with all the servants kindly. He knew about all their families.
Kamal was feeling extra horny that day. “It’s all in the food,” he thought. He was showering in his room, when he heard the chef coming in. He opened the door hoping to greet him. But, he also saw master coming with him. The chef kneeled before master before Kamal could breathe and started begging.
“I am sorry master. Forgive me. It is not his mistake. He is innocent. Please don’t do it. He is just a child at heart,” he begged sobbing.
“I took pains to create that child, investing years of my life. Do you think it is easy making a person illiterate and keeping them in dark in this world? It involves so many drugs, treatments and a large sum of money,” Master said. Kamal could not understand their conversations fully. They talked in fluent English and Kamal only grasped a few words.
“He had earned you enough. He worked like a dog here for eight years. You will make him work twenty hours every day because he can’t count. Please don’t kill him,” the chef begged.
Kamal was taken aback. He knew they were talking about his new friend. He stood there like a statue not making a noise. “How am I supposed to earn my millions if don’t kill him. His organs have already been sold to the highest bidder. Don’t worry. His younger brother looks exactly like him. He will be here in two months. You can have all the fun you want with him,” master said.
“No, don’t do it. He loves his family. They think he is dead. But, he sincerely hopes he will see them someday. It is my mistake I let my emotions grow for him when I am reserved for the Arabi prince. But, please show some mercy. I know you love me. You will do anything for me,” the chef was licking masters shoes like a little puppy now.
“What do you want me to do useless? He is addicted to drugs. His food and drugs cost are exceeding the minimum wage cost. If I let him out, he will blurt out things. He is already dead for everybody he knows. It is not my mistake you love him. I warned you enough. Harvesting his organs is the only best solution. He will die happily without pain,” Master said.
“You have to do this for me,” the chef got angry. “I will talk to the new boy. He is not brainwashed yet and he seems like a fighter. He is educated too. I will turn him against you,” the chef said. Kamal clearly understood they were talking about him. Masters next action shocked him completely.
Master put a hand to the chef’s neck and pushed him to the wall strangling his throat. The chef’s eyes protruded and his hands moved aimlessly. He peed himself. In a moment he lay in his own poo as a dead body. Master walked out like nothing happened.
Kamal was shell shocked. He waited till master went out and came out of the bath through another door. He casually walked to the maid’s room. He knew she was busy working on the other side of the house. He searched her room casually talking aloud, “where did she keep her mobile? Here it is. I will take it to her,” he knew there were CCTV cameras in all the rooms.
He also knew the maid did not carry her mobile around. He had heard her scold a servant for not leaving the mobile in the room the previous day. But, any person watching him from the CCTV camera will think he was taking her phone only on the maid’s bid. He tucked it in his pocket and went to clean the cars.
Once he was alone in the shed, he quietly slipped into the inside of the car. The security who saw it thought he was just cleaning the inside of the car. He called the Indian Embassy and reported the incidents he witnessed here quickly in his broken English. He came out, cleaned the car and slipped the mobile into the maid’s pocket when she did not notice.
He carried on with his work like nothing ever happened. His heart ached for his friend whenever he saw him. But, Kamal was confident he will be saved. The police arrived in front of the villa along with the Embassy people in two hours. Kamal knew it will come to an end now.
They kept talking to master and Kamal was called shortly. Master was as calm as he ever was. “There is a mistake. These people say you called Kamal and that you saw me murder my chef,” he said.
“I did. There are CCTV footages too,” I said. My innocent friend who bought refreshments pounced on me like a tiger, “how dare you accuse him you idiot, he is God!” he blurted.
“I am doing this for you fool. He is going to kill you and harvest your organs,” I shouted back.
The police officer interfered. I did not understand what he was saying. But, I clearly understood he was demanding to see the CCTV footage. Master refused plainly and they got ready to arrest him. My friend threw himself on his knees and begged the police officer to let go. I felt quite irritated. Some people just cannot be helped.
Just then, the chef walked in. He was as fresh as morning adorned in his pristine white uniform. My friend and the chef both exchanged glances. Master yelled at him to go inside. The police officer took one look at him and slapped the chef hard. He fell down with blood on his mouth. I was at loss of words. Very soon, the CCTV footage was played.
It did not show anything that I saw. But, it showed my friend and the chef making love in his bed in my room. This act was taboo in this land. The punishment could be death. The police man deported both of them and master went behind them promising to save them and get them asylum in another country.
My friend turned and looked at me with utter disgust. A look I could never forget in my life. I have shattered all his dreams. Master went with them and the maid came to me. “Did the chef.....do something to you? Is that why you complained?” she asked.
“No, the master killed him. I saw it with my own eyes,” I shouted. “What the hell? You saw him walking with the police. Didn’t you?” she asked and gave me a quizzical look. “Come with me. Let’s check what happened last night,” she said.
I sat there clutching my head with both my hands. What just happened? Did the chef actually use me like that too while I was asleep? Am I hallucinating? We went to the CCTV room and requested the man there to show me the footage from last night.
I was somewhat right. The chef did inject me with something and restrain my hands and legs. He also put a glass on my eyes. He got naked, turned me and pulled my ass up. The CCTV man paused the footage here and cringed. It was not decent to watch what happened with a lady. There was no use in seeing more. I just walked out.
“Kamal, it is ok. The drugs can cause hallucinations. Master is very fond of the chef. He will bring him out somehow. He has a family to feed. They rely on his income. Just apologize to master when he comes back. It is good that you reported. Such people cannot be trusted. Your friend is innocent. The chef might be leading him astray. But, don’t worry. Master will help him too. Master will show heaven if we do as he says,” the maid said.
“I should apologize to master. I have caused him trouble with my hallucinations. Master will show heaven. I should do as he says,” Kamal thought. For some strange reason, the maid’s voice felt so soothing and familiar. He just couldn’t say no to her.