I had to put the brakes on arranging my sexfight between the Filipina and Korean to determine my first P.A. as I had discovered an old 5 1/4 floppy jammed behind the drawer of the Dr Martin's desk I had acquired. The disc had physical damage and the data was corrupted, but it became a non-put-down challenge for me. Eventually, using sophisticated data retrieval programs that I had Monash University purchase, I teased out most of the Wordstar document and using current day AI was able to flesh out uncompleted words and sentences.
It was a goldmine. It was the Dr.'s record of his first overseas trip on behalf of Monash University and the government. It gave an insight into my hero and the man I had modelled my department on when he was a newcomer at running his department. One who was unsure of how far to go, and what sexual methods to employ as he learnt on the job. But make no mistake. The corrupt, manipulative, Asian-sex-loving, self-centred opportunist and sociopath was developing before our eyes. As always, he tells the truth about his behaviour glossing over nothing including his inadequacies, almost revelling in his actions. His story follows.
Wen Chi Teng stepped off the plane in her short, neatly pressed navy-blue pencil skirt, blazer, crisp white blouse and black high heels. Despite it being Taiwan I had her dress in that Japanese office lady style to add a bit of an official look to my arrival. Soon the February humidity of 85% in Taipei had her professional, business-look clothing clinging to her body, revealing the 25-year-old's petite body shape. She had been born and raised in Taipei, but her tertiary study years had been spent in the cooler, environment of the Melbourne tertiary education system.
At Monash University she had needed top marks and I provided those, but at a cost as readers will know. Now, she was one of my 25 all-Asian female staff and my temporary Personal Assistant for the trip to Taiwan. This was a role she accepted with a sense of pride that bordered on excitement at the salary, plus a fair amount of self-loathing for how she had sold her soul and body to me to obtain this position.
I, on the other hand, looked like a fish out of water as I navigated the crowded terminal. This was my first overseas trip and my eyes took in the hustle and bustle so different to Melbourne and the unfamiliar sound of shouted Mandarin and local Hokkien dialect that filled my ears. It was true I had studied Asian cultures, was now Head of Asian Studies at Monash University and advised governments on their policies, but as you know my position had been gained by blackmail and my qualifications were fraudulent.
Yet, I was ready in my own way. I was ready to do anything to make it happen. The deal with the Taiwanese government would be my golden ticket. It would be overseas success on my first try and would cement my position at Monash University as I filled its coffers with overseas paying students and gave the Government something to boast about: Taiwanese students choosing Australia. If it all happened, Dr graham Martin would be set for life as "The Asian Specialist", and I wasn't going to fail, no matter what I, and especially my P.A. had to do.
I knew enough that the Asian game was one of favours and underhand, non-documented deals. I had paid very good money, the universities and Governments, not mine, to get full dossiers on the three Taiwanese who would decide yes or no. All three committee members I needed to charm and approve the deal had palms as greasy as the fish and chips my Catholic parents bought every Friday night, and I also had the hidden dirt on them as well.
I had brought Wen Chi along for her translation skills and her local cultural knowledge, plus it made me look more important and gave me status and face in a country where that mattered. Plus, I had in mind something that did not involve her mind: her body for the 3 committee members. As an aside, I had saved the University and Government money as I had booked the two of us in the luxury hotel as Mr and Mrs, thus avoiding the cost of two rooms, and the cost for me with Wen Chi available of not having to pay for prostitutes or even cheaper lingerie wearing women selling betel nuts to passing cars.
In my mind, I saw the deal falling neatly into place. Each committee member had their vices, and I had come prepared with money and a tailored approach for each one. Wen Chi's job was clear in my mind: charm them, seduce and fuck them if necessary and seal the deal. Her fucking some Taiwanese was a small price for me to pay if it succeeded in bringing in the millions that would flow into the university's coffers (and mine). At this point in time, she was unaware of her true role.
I knew that Mr. Li, the most influential member of the committee, was easily bribed. At our first meeting, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and the noise of overpriced whiskey being poured. The walls of the nightclub where prospective movie starlets stripped on stage were lined with faded red velvet, and the lighting was dim. I had dressed Wen Chi in a red Chinese qipao (I had just learnt that was Mandarin for what Westerners called a cheongsam) that clung to her curves and Mr Li, despite being in his mid-50s could not take his eyes off her.
His eyes gleamed with greed for money and the thought of sex. Wen Chi accidentally leaned closer, her breasts brushing against his shoulder, and I thought Mr Li was going to cum in his pants. This sexual attraction was like a cherry on the top as before I was almost certain money alone would do the trick with Mr Li. I watched with a knowing smile, my mind racing with thoughts of a reduced $ bribe and longer or more fucks from Wen Chi for Mr Li. I counted it 1 vote already won.
The second member of the committee, Mr. Wu, was a different challenge altogether. A self-proclaimed gourmand, he demanded both our obsequious and fawning manner and the finest food and drink for our meeting. We sat in a very expensive private dining room in the heart of the city, surrounded by the clatter of dishes and the murmur of hushed conversations. His lips curled into a knowing smile as he described the fusion cuisine that would tantalize our taste buds, an unmatched blend of East and West. Yes, it may have been, but it was expensive food he was not paying for and we had to listen to his long-winded crap.
But deep down I knew it was a waste of time. My reports suggested he had anti-West feelings and was a secret admirer of China. The report had given no indication that a female, even one as attractive as Wen Chi would attract him, and if he batted for the other team, well even I have my limits and was definitely not going to oblige him. I had him as a 100% no vote, so that meant the vote in all probability was now tied at 1 each. Winning over the 3rd committee member, Hao Yun Chen, was essential. She was the one to concentrate on as she had no bias either for or against. We just had to provide her with what she wanted in a way that was not obvious. Then we would have Mr Li and Hao Yun's votes and Mr Wu could fuck himself for all I cared.
The last meeting therefore was with Hao Yun Chen, a plain-dressed, butch-looking woman known for her love of fine art and for being a suspected lesbian. Wen Chi had arranged a private viewing at the National Palace Museum, where her father had once been the head curator. Inside, we stopped in front of a particularly exquisite jade sculpture. It meant nothing to me as it had no price tag which is how I value things. Hao Yun held it reverently and Wen Chi spoke with a passion that would have made my heart race if I had cared about the chipped piece of jade.
