The small Japanese deputy principal fidgeted behind his desk, adjusting his glasses for the third time in as many minutes. His office, usually his sanctuary, now felt oppressively small. The towering American figure across from him filled the space with an air of casual dominance. Andrew Jackson, the new principal of Osaka University, leaned back in the principal chair, his powerful frame making it creak.
"So," Andrew began, his deep voice resonating like a clap of thunder, "you're the man keeping this place afloat. Impressive." His tone carried no real admiration--only a trace of amusement, as if the idea of someone like the deputy juggling such responsibilities was a quaint novelty.
The deputy cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. "It's been... challenging. But rewarding." he looked up to Andrew being almost two heads taller than him.
Andrew's piercing blue eyes locked onto him, making it impossible to look away. "I'll bet it has. Two jobs, one salary, right? That's dedication. Or..." He smirked. "...desperation?"
The deputy's face flushed. He tried to compose himself, but the words stumbled out, "I-I'm just happy to contribute to the university's success." He looked at his new boss's muscular arms. The biceps were larger than his legs.
Andrew didn't respond immediately. Instead, his gaze shifted to the desk of the deputy principal, where a framed photograph of a woman in a bikini caught his attention. He leaned forward, picking it up without asking permission.
The deputy's stomach twisted as Andrew studied the image. It was from his wedding trip--a rare moment of joy captured on a sunny beach. His wife stood in the foreground, her petite figure barely covered by a white bikini, her hand in her hair and a shy smile on her face.
"This your sister?" Andrew asked, tilting the frame slightly for better light.
"No, that's... my wife," the deputy stammered.
Andrew's smirk deepened, and he set the photo back down deliberately, the glass frame clicking against the desk. "Beautiful woman," he said, his voice rich with implication. "I would love to meet her." The woman was really cute and sexy with long black hair and a slim waist. She looked just like famous Asian pornstar Lucy Mochi.
The deputy couldn't muster a response. His palms were damp, and he felt small--insignificant--under Andrew's gaze. He thought of his wife that he almost hadn't met the last few months after their wedding that had been continually almost the same day as when he learned who would be the new principal.
The last months working late, coming home to his wife asleep in their bedroom, a stale meal in the kitchen and a pillow with a blanket on the sofa for him. He hadn't even ever seen her naked, least dressed in the bikini his boss was now holding. She had said something about maybe after marriage but now he just jerked off his micro penis to some erotic manga magazine and then fell asleep to get ready for a new day of working for his American boss.
Andrew shifted in his seat, his imposing presence never once diminishing. "Let's talk about this dress code I've implemented," he said, changing the subject with the ease of someone who always dictated the flow of conversation. "I heard the ladies are excited about it. Shows they're ready for change. Are you ready for change, too?"
The deputy nodded mechanically, though the knot in his stomach tightened. He had given the dress code to all staff a few weeks ago: miniskirts or hot pants for female staff and bow ties for male. The staff had dutifully complied with the motivation that the new principal wanted the university to be more attractive and get attention. Now most were used to it and most female staff actually enjoyed the sexy style competing in how short skirts they dared to wear hoping to impress the handsome foreign principal when he arrived.
Andrew chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room. "Good. You'll adjust. You seem like the adaptable type." With that, he stood, towering over the desk, and extended a hand. "Looking forward to working with you," Andrew said, the handshake firm and final, as if sealing a contract. Andrew gave an extra smile happy that the people who had scouted and recruited him had no idea he had been suspended with pay from at least three previous schools.
The deputy accepted the handshake, feeling the sheer strength in Andrew's grip almost crushing him. As the door closed behind the new principal, the deputy sank into his chair, staring at the photo of his wife. A strange mixture of dread and something he couldn't quite name churned within him.
Andrew Jackson couldn't suppress a smirk as he stepped out of the deputy's cramped office. The guy was a caricature of meekness, with his trembling hands and that desperate, stammering loyalty. It was almost too easy. Andrew found it absurd--and endlessly amusing--that the man had a framed photo of his bikini-clad wife on his desk for anyone to see. The thought lingered, and Andrew chuckled to himself. Some people really don't know how to guard their treasures.
As he strode down the polished corridors of Osaka University, heads turned. Students and staff alike paused, their gazes lingering just a bit too long. He reveled in the attention, his tailored suit fitting like a glove over his muscular frame. This was what he thrived on--commanding respect, curiosity, and maybe even a little fear.
The new staff dress code had been one of his boldest moves yet, but it had paid off in spades. Men in sharp bow ties and women in short mini skirts or sleek hot pants exuded a sexist professionalism. The women, especially the professors, seemed to embrace the change with unexpected enthusiasm. Miniskirts that flirted with propriety, paired with confident strides in high heels, filled the hallways. Andrew had noticed how some of the female staff seemed to light up when he was around, pulling their skirts a little shorter, their blouses a little tighter.
As he entered the faculty lounge, the chatter quieted. Conversations shifted into whispers as his presence filled the room. He gave them his signature grin--a mix of charm and authority--and felt the tension in the air rise.
One woman, in particular, caught his eye. Professor Ayumi Tanaka, a Japanese literature specialist, stood by the coffee machine. Her figure was elegant but enticing with by far the shortest skirt in the room. Her skirt just ended below her sexy behind and her blouse unbuttoned enough to show most of her surprisingly large tits. She met his gaze with a soft smile, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Perfect, Andrew thought. He still had plenty of energy after a relaxing plane ride.
"Professor Tanaka," he called out, his voice smooth and inviting. "Mind if I steal a moment of your time?"
She approached, her movements poised yet tinged with a touch of nervous excitement. "Of course, Principal Jackson. What can I do for you?"
Andrew leaned casually against the counter, his height making him seem even more imposing in the small space. "I've been meaning to get to know my staff better. You know, understand what makes this place tick." His eyes held hers, a calculated mix of warmth and intensity. "I was wondering if you'd join me for dinner at my new apartment tonight. You can cook and treat me. I don't sleep alone and I love to hear your thoughts on... literature and leadership."
Ayumi blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly recovered. "That's... very kind of you. I'd be honored."
"Great," Andrew said, flashing a smile that had disarmed more than a few skeptics in his time. "Apparently I have my own drive and this great penthouse." The perks of being principal were proving to be better than he'd imagined. A luxurious apartment in the heart of Osaka, an adoring faculty, and a campus full of people eager to please. This is going to be fun.
Andrew leaned back towards the coffee machine and pretended to think, the faint hum of the faculty lounge conversations a pleasant backdrop to his musings. Dinner with Ayumi Tanaka was set, but he wasn't one to let opportunities simmer too long. There was something about her--a mix of elegance and vulnerability--that intrigued him. She seemed the perfect candidate for a little... extracurricular bonding.
"Professor Tanaka," he said, his tone warm but commanding, "I think you really are a professor who brings passion to your work here."
