#the statistics on americans without passports always shock me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harolddetective · 7 years

Text

APB Email List Content Archive

April 25, 2017

Story: DNA More commonly referred to as Dioxyribonucleic Acid. Or do I have that backward? Without it, we wouldn’t have shows like CSI or Forensic Files. Most crime writers are familiar with the concept of DNA, where it’s likely to be found at a crime scene or on a victim, its value as evidence, and how important it is when a Crime Lab confirms a DNA ‘hit” in CODIS. Joan asked a great question this week: “Are all incarcerated inmates DNA tested?” I had to dig to find the answer, which is: it depends on the State and this PDF will tell you which State does what. The short answer is most States take DNA swabs during the jail booking process for felonies. Some states take DNA for all felonies, others for specific ones. Check out the PDF for details on the law for where your story takes place.

Scene: DNA So now that you know when DNA samples are collected, it would probably help you paint a better picture if you knew how DNA samples are collected and what a Buccal DNA Collector looks like. Well…you’re in luck. Allow me to present you with some official California DOJ Buccal DNA Collection Kit Instructions. A step-by-step guide with pictures. So easy, even a patrol cop can do it. As an aside, the word “buccal” is properly pronounced “buckle.” Doctors, CSI Techs, and Homicide Detectives will pronounce this correctly. I have often heard patrol officers mispronounce it as “b-you-cal.” While I’m on the topic of mispronunciation, when referring to small blood droplets or spray, the word is “spatter.” There is no L. Splatter is when you splash a liquid, usually making a copious mess…like with paint, mud, or cake batter.

Setting: Typical American Courtroom Flip through the channels on TV and you are bound to see several courtrooms fly by. Whether it’s Judge Judy or re-runs of Perry Mason during the day or Law & Order of every flavor at night, we have all seen the inside of a courtroom too many times to count. But how well do you really know your way around? This chart is a pretty reasonable representation of an American Superior Court Courtroom. Some key things you might find helpful when describing a courtroom in your writing:

The Prosecutor’s Table is always the attorney table closest to the jury. So if the jury box is on the left side of the room, the Defendant’s Table would be on the right.

The space between the attorneys’ tables and The Bench (where the Judge sits) is called “The Well.” Historical rumor has it that The Well was designed to provide two swords length distance between the Judge and the attorneys…er…I mean the defendant. Whether that is true or not, I will leave to your own research. But that anecdote might give insight into why only the Bailiff -okay, okay…the Clerk and Stenographer too- are allowed to be in The Well, unless the Judge specifically allows it. Hence the question, “Permission to approach the Bench (or the Witness), Your Honor?” whenever an attorney wants to enter The Well.

The stenographer (aka The Court Reporter) usually sits between the Witness Box/Stand and the attorney’s tables in order to hear everyone speaking.

Often a lectern is set up between the attorneys’ tables or between the jury box and the Prosecutor’s Table. (A lectern is often incorrectly referred to as a podium. A podium is a floor riser.)

The Jury Box is obviously where the jury sits. However, if the courtroom is being used for arraignments it is common for attorneys to use it as overflow seating. This is where many plea bargains are struck in whispered voices while other arraignments are going on, so as not to interfere with the Stenographer’s ability to hear the official proceedings.

April 15, 2017

Story: Police Procedure Most of the questions I am asked start with “How would a cop really…” and most of my answers actually come straight from department policies. Riverside Police Department (in Southern California’s Inland Empire) has their entire policy manual posted online. [Before you ask….no, this is not the agency I work for.] This policy manual is indicative of what you will likely find in police policy manuals around the country, as they are based on yearly changes in case law and best practices. While not every agency will have the exact same policies, this exemplar will offer some great insight into how investigations are handled, what cops can and can’t do, and just how much working-knowledge of policy is required to navigate a workday. I really encourage you to bookmark this link and use it as a reference tool for learning how your characters will handle their investigations.

Story & Character: Serial Killers Who doesn’t want to write the next Silence of the Lambs? Hannibal Lecter was such an iconic character that our perception of serial killers is skewed through a Lecter-esque Lens. The truth is, statistically speaking, most Homicide Detectives will never work a serial killer. The FBI created this publication for investigators, to combat the popular culture myths about serial killers, assumptions about serial murderer psychological profiles, and to keep those misunderstandings from derailing an actual investigation. If you write about serial killers, this is a must-read for creating antagonists that aren’t a repeat of the erroneous stereotype.

Character: Cop Psychology I first heard of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder when it was called “Cop Shock,” based on a book of the same name. There has been a lot of media coverage in recent years about PTSD, as our troops return home from war suffering with the psychological effects of what they experienced. What isn’t as commonly reported about is Cumulative-PTSD, the type that is killing cops through suicide from the cumulative effects of police work. This story explains Cumulative-PTSD. Of particular note is the top comment at the bottom of the page (posted by Bigj78) that offers some perspective into why so few cops seek help. To read about what’s being done to combat PTSD in Law Enforcement, this article offers some examples. If you are writing a series of stories featuring the same protagonist, you might consider the long-term psychological toll the horrific scenes and high-stress incidents will take on your character. Even if you never “diagnose” your Detective with PTSD, you can add some depth of character by incorporating some of the PTSD traits listed in these articles.

March 25, 2017

PLOT HOLES: One thing I am frequently asked about is Missing Person Investigations. Hollywood perpetuates the myth that a Reporting Party has to wait 24 hours to report someone missing. Not only is this false in the United States, there are actually laws in place that require police agencies to take Missing Person reports seriously and in a timely manner. Some specific types of cases must be entered into a national database within two or four hours of the initial report. Check out California’s exhaustive guide on missing persons investigations and don’t fall victim to one of the biggest cop story plot holes out there.

CHARACTER: Writing in a way to convey how cops think can be challenging. The first step is understanding why the officer became one in the first place. There is a “chicken or the egg” argument in criminal justice academia as to whether cops are “values-predisposed” before coming on the job or become the way they are later in their careers via a “values-learned” phenomenon. I’d argue that it depends on the individual officer, but I believe most great cops truly feel it is “a calling.” My mother can attest that I’d wanted to be a cop since I was three years old. Nothing was going to stop me. It shaped many of my life decisions growing up. I took notice this week of the grittiest example of this kind of calling and fortitude. Not going to high school parties is one thing, but going through the police academy as a double-leg-amputee (and Marine Corps Combat Veteran) is a whole other level of commitment. I wish Officer Ferrieira a very long and rewarding career.

RESEARCH FIELD TRIP: Last week, I wrote about my Department of Homeland Security’s “Global Entry” program interview. Since a few of you inquired about the experience, I thought I would share. I arrived at the Tom Bradley International Terminal at LAX twenty minutes early. I found the Global Entry desk wedged between the twin entrances of Terminal 4 and Terminal 5, where an Asian woman wearing a full Customs and Border Protection uniform waved me up to the counter. There was no line at this early hour. I was immediately allowed through the door to the right of the counter, which opened up into a small office, staffed with eight CBP Officers behind desks. All were armed and wearing external body armor; the kind SWAT teams wear. The officer I spoke to was polite, but efficient. After answering a handful of questions, handing over my Passport and Driver’s License, and a LiveScan of my fingerprints, I was back out the door in under ten minutes.

MOTIVATION: Finally, here’s a quick reminder that we’re on the same team and no matter how you are currently feeling about writing, keep chipping away at it because you’re creating something awesome! Even if the words you’re writing today don’t feel awesome, they have to be written to get to the stage of creating the awesome stuff. Keep going and have a great week!

March 18, 2017

AGENCIES: INTERPOL (www.interpol.int) is an international police organization with 190 member countries. Think of it like the U.N., but for police work. INTERPOL is also one of the more misunderstood organizations in fiction. When I was a Homicide Detective, I had a murder suspect flee the country. My local FBI office took my California arrest warrant for First Degree Murder and used it to obtain a Federal “Unlawful Flight to Avoid Prosecution” warrant. Referred to as a UFAP Warrant – pronounced “You Fap.” (NOTE: Do not google that term, because it’s slang for something else as well. Just don’t; you’d thank me. If you do; you’ll know I was right and might listen to me next time.) By obtaining a UFAP warrant, the FBI was able to get INTERPOL to flag the suspect’s passport/identity for arrest using an INTERPOL RED NOTICE around the world. Check out the links to INTERPOL to learn more about the different color notices used to catch or track international fugitives, known criminals, et cetera.

PLOT RESEARCH: I have Lethal Weapon 2 to thank for introducing me to the concept of Diplomatic Immunity. Unfortunately, it has confused most of movie goers on the concept of Diplomatic Immunity ever since. To learn exactly who has Diplomatic Immunity and to what extent that may actually keep them out of trouble, here is a link to the U.S. Department of State’s “Diplomatic and Consular Immunity: Guidance for Law Enforcement and Judicial Authorities.” This downloadable PDF will answer nearly every question you may have on the topic.

RESEARCH FIELD TRIP: The reason this week’s APB is focused on travel is that I have a little field trip coming up on Monday morning. A few months ago, I enrolled in the Department of Homeland Security’s “Global Entry” program. Global Entry is essentially a FastPass for International travel. Not only will it allow me into the shortest/quickest line at the Customs Desk whenever I return to the United States from travel abroad, it also includes TSA PreCheck (the program that lets “pre-screened travelers” get in the short line at airport security screening.) The final hurdle in getting my Global Entry card is completing an interview with TSA at LAX in the Tom Bradley International Terminal on Monday morning. So any of you suffering from Wanderlust or wanting a writing/research field trip to your nearest, most inconvenient, international airport, I encourage you to go through the Global Entry process. Global Entry is $100 for 5 years and includes TSA PreCheck. TSA PreCheck on its own is $85 for five years; so spend the extra $15. You’ll thank me the next time you get to cut the wait time at the airport (or cruise ship terminal, or land border crossing) and you’ll be feeling like Jason Bourne in no time.

March 11, 2017

RESEARCH: With this week’s Wikileaks claims regarding CIA’s purported cyber spying techniques, I think it’s time to introduce you to Michael Bazzell. Michael was a local Police Detective assigned as a Task Force Officer on a FBI Cyber Crimes Task Force. Years later, he left law enforcement to start a very lucrative career teaching cops how to use the internet to find bad guys and teaching cops to safeguard themselves from the same aforementioned searching techniques. He was also a technical advisor for the TV show “Mr. Robot.” So yes, he’s that good. This week, Michael and his podcasting partner, Justin Carroll, discuss the CIA leak. After you’ve listened to the podcast, click the “OSINT Tools” link at the top of the page and then click the “Tools” link. Try using the links in the left column of the page to find new ways to search your favorite social networks. I *may* have used these techniques to connect with writers like you on Facebook. Disclaimer: I accept no responsibility if these techniques lead to you stalking your high school flame.

PROPS: Have you ever wondered what gear your character would actually carry? One of the major providers of “duty gear” is a company called Galls, and they’ve been around for decades. If you are old enough to remember leafing through inch-thick department store catalogs looking for things to ask Santa for, nothing has changed. The Galls Catalog is the definitive cop and firefighter gift guide. As a writer, you might find a few secrets of police work like this one that hides a handcuff key inside a belt keeper. I have carried one exactly like this on my Sam Browne for twenty years. It would be a very bad day if I had my own handcuffs used against me, but it goes back to the law enforcement motto of “Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.” If you’re writing a thriller where the protagonist finds herself/himself at the mercy of the antagonist, this little gem might prove useful.

MUSE: Writing is tough. Being fiscally successful at writing is even more difficult. It’s natural to think your self-doubt soliloquy is speaking the truth, especially when life isn’t going the way you deserve. We all think these thoughts. The next time this feeling grips you, I want you to think of Jon Morrow. Then I want you to use Jon’s advice and find the opening for your counterpunch. Find out what I mean here, in Jon Morrow’s “7 Life Lessons from a Guy Who Can’t Move Anything but His Face.”

March 4, 2017

RESEARCH: One of the best places to learn about what cops are currently facing and what they think about is at PoliceOne. This is a great way to research a ton of police related topics, such as the equipment your characters might carry, the training they receive, or dashcam/bodycam videos of what actually happens out on the street.

CHARACTER: You might be familiar with comedian Whitney Cummings, but you’ve probably never heard her like this. In her second appearance on the Tim Ferriss Podcast, she gets deep and meaningful. This is a long podcast, but her explanation of co-dependence and the character traits that are indicative of being co-dependent are 100% worth taking the time to listen. I found it enlightening you will absolutely find it useful for character creation. Whitney begins talking about co-dependence at the [6:10] mark.

One gem I pulled from this episode was, “Perfectionism leads to procrastination, which leads to paralysis.” [16:35] Sound familiar? Yeah…me too.

You can find the show notes (including discussion topics by timeline mark) for Whitney’s “Return of the Money Shot” episode at tim.blog, grab the podcast on itunes, or stream it directly using these links.

WRITING TOOLS: Many of us have streaming music. I personally have XM Radio, Pandora, and my Amazon Prime membership gives me Amazon Music. Last year, I tried yet another streaming service called Focus@Will that claimed to provide music that boosts productivity. I am definitely the type that prefers to write and read in silence, but Focus@Will changed that for me. They scientifically determine which music increases your focus to get work done and stay in the zone. When I am working, nothing irritates me more than music that pulls me out of my zen-happy-zone (or even worse: commercials.) Focus@Will does neither of those and excels in creating that focused atomosphere.

I have renewed my subscription for a second year now and have even participated in one of their scientific focus studies. Focus@Will offers a free 15-Day trial*, and I wholeheartedly recommend at least trying it out. If you click on the affiliate link I’ve provided above, it will give you $5 off the normal price.

February 25, 2017

Story: The Art of Storytelling – Pixar partnered with the Khan Academy to teach a free course on The Art of Storytelling. It’s a 30,000 foot overview of storytelling, but it’s fun to see the Creative Brains behind animated movies like Cars and Toy Story offer insight into Pixar’s storytelling practices. Did I mention that it’s free?

Setting: Stories like One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest burned the mental image of what an insane asylum might look like into our collective mind’s eye. My wife and I visited Bath, England last year and stayed at the Bailbrook House. This stunning mansion looked like any number of stately homes featured in Downton Abbey. While flipping through the hotel’s Welcome Book in our room, I quickly discovered we were staying in a former 19th Century lunatic asylum known for its advances in cranial drilling. This week, I discovered the article: Human Zoos of the 19th Century which reveals how North American mental institutions in the 1800s were public attractions with complete with tours for the whole family.

Time Management: The only way to write that book (or that APB or that blog post) is to get your butt in your seat and start typing. “But I don’t have the time!” Does that sound familiar? This NY Times article provided some insight into the benefits of tracking your time.

Crime Writer’s Mug: Crime Writer’s Miranda Admonishment coffee mug*. If you ever wanted a Miranda Admonishment card for your crime story interviews, this is it…conveniently printed on the side of a coffee mug, because you have the right to remain caffeinated.

February 18, 2017

Character: Lost Boy of Sudan becomes an Atlanta Police Officer – An uplifting true story about perseverance and following your dream through adversity.

Setting: A succinct description of heroin production. – If you want to accurately describe how heroin is actually manufactured, this is the most concise and accurate description I’ve seen.

Story: The Soup Maker – If you write about drug cartels, this blog will introduce you to the eye opening reference source called BorderlandBeat.com WARNING: This site often shows graphic images of the real death and devastation of narcoterrorism. While I highly recommend reading the articles, think twice about joining in the commentary. The Cartels are certainly reading these posts as well. The Soup Maker link is to a real life story of what I can only describe as The Heisenberg Body-Disposal-Method. It’s definitely gross, but start asking yourself how articles like these could lead to new story ideas. After you read The Soup Maker, consider this writing prompt: HOW and WHY did the Cartel know to reach out to the “Israelites” as experts in this field? WHAT does that mean is going on elsewhere in the world? Taking an analytical approach to reading any news article and then asking the right questions is a sure-fire Rx for killing writer’s block.

Writer’s Reference: 5 Secrets of Story Structure: How to Write a Novel That Stands Out (Helping Writers Become Authors Book 6), by K.M. Weiland. I am a big fan of K.M. Weiland’s writing tools. As I send this email today (2/18/2017), the Kindle Edition is currently FREE. Download it before the price goes back up!

[*Some links may be affiliate links, where I might earn money if you click and then purchase anything. Any affiliate links are marked with an asterisk like this: *, so you can decide whether I get any money from your sale. I won’t provide any affiliate links for products I haven’t used or don’t really believe in.]

APB Email List Content Archive syndicated from http://ift.tt/2k7p7z2

0 notes

iseeuseepage · 7 years

Text

APB Email List Content Archive

April 25, 2017

The Prosecutor’s Table is always the attorney table closest to the jury. So if the jury box is on the left side of the room, the Defendant’s Table would be on the right.

The stenographer (aka The Court Reporter) usually sits between the Witness Box/Stand and the attorney’s tables in order to hear everyone speaking.

Often a lectern is set up between the attorneys’ tables or between the jury box and the Prosecutor’s Table. (A lectern is often incorrectly referred to as a podium. A podium is a floor riser.)

April 15, 2017

March 25, 2017

March 18, 2017

March 11, 2017

March 4, 2017

One gem I pulled from this episode was, “Perfectionism leads to procrastination, which leads to paralysis.” [16:35] Sound familiar? Yeah…me too.

February 25, 2017

February 18, 2017

Character: Lost Boy of Sudan becomes an Atlanta Police Officer – An uplifting true story about perseverance and following your dream through adversity.

Setting: A succinct description of heroin production. – If you want to accurately describe how heroin is actually manufactured, this is the most concise and accurate description I’ve seen.

APB Email List Content Archive syndicated from your-t1-blog-url

0 notes

a254052656-blog · 7 years

Text

A Singaporean in China

by chenzong (username on sammyboyforum.com)

Original submissions can be found here in seperate posts over a period.

https://www.sammyboyforum.com/showthread.php?t=149360&page=22

Being a Singaporean can get one into very interesting career and job opportunities. I am a true-blue Singaporean - went through the educational system, did my national service and then went over to California to do my Bachelors, and stayed there ever since.

One would expect, after living in a nation where English is expected to dominate, that any Singaporean would lose whatever Chinese he has acquired. This is not true, for California has quite a substantial Chinese community, and it seems to be a magnet for Chinese coming over here too.

And so, with Chinese friends galore, I kept up my Chinese, and amazed both the Caucasians ("You speak very good English!") and the Chinese (“你的中文讲的非常好！”). And so it was, that I got to know the visiting parents of one of my Chinese ex-schoolmate (he dropped out of college after one year because he really sucked at English - I wonder how he passed his TOEFL to come here), as they arrived to help him pack (to go home), after we finished with the semester (and I with the Bachelors in Business Admin).

Mr Li was an amazing old man - his manners and accented Chinese gave away his lack of education, which means he must have made his fortune with his bare hands. He was also an amazing old man, because Mrs Li, my ex-classmate's mother (biological!) was possible 20 years his junior!

Mr Li did a roaring business supplying all kinds of stuff, from textiles to toys to boxes. I think we must have got together very well, with him listening intently to me how much I appreciated the Chinese culture (and I was speaking from my heart), and wanted a chance to work in China (ok, this one was not from my heart - I wanted to look for a job in the States!).

He then asked a question which stumped me, "How well do you think you can handle women?"

I just spoke the truth, laughing heartily as I did so, "Mr Li, I am not married, neither do I have a girlfriend now. I have had many girls during my 4 years here, but so far no serious ones. I definitely cannot handle women as well as you can!"

Mr Li laughed in reply, and simply told me, "Fly with me to Shanghai. I want you to manage my textile factory. I will pay for the ticket. I am sick of Taiwanese and Shanghainese managers who cannot communicate with my American clients."

I thought he was joking, and went along, whisking out my passport, "Sure! Let me give you my passport details!"

I know he was not joking when Mrs Li (whom I found out also doubles up as his secretary!) stepped in, took my passport from me, and started dialling for the airline!

I believed I was probably still in shock when Mr Li shook my hand and told me, "Thank you, Chen, for helping me. One day, I may have to call upon a big favour from you when I pass away and my son succeeds my business."

No negotiation of salary. No negotiation of benefits. Nothing at all. If I had been 10 years older then, there would have been no way I would take on something like that. I think my family was equally shocked when I told them I had landed in Shanghai, and would become the General Manager of a textile factory there!

Chapter 1

The way Mr Li did his hiring totally broke all the theories that I picked up in my 4 years of studies. I would find out later, that many, many Chinese businessmen here went a lot by their gut feelings, and tend to hire based on how much they felt they could trust the person, rather than anything else.

A Ms Shen was waiting at the airport for us. To be exact, she was waiting for me. Mr Li went home with Mrs Li and his son (lucky guy - he would never need to work at all, perhaps that explains his horrible grades) in his car while I was ushered by into a passenger van driven by a driver who was smoking away before he threw out the stub and drove off.

I found out during the journey, that Ms Shen was going to be my secretary! Although there were plenty of seats in the van, she had chosen to sit just next to me, the luggage being dumped at the back of the van.

It was already midnight, and the journey was really long. Ms Shen tried to strike up a conversation, but my mind was elsewhere, wondering what I had gotten myself into. Before I knew what had happened, I found a head on my shoulder. She was sleeping on my shoulder!

I sighed, and adjusted my position a bit. I was used to such scenarios. For some reason, even in my years in secondary school, girls always ended up sleeping on my shoulder - in the buses, in the MRT. I wonder if my shoulder was some kind of babe magnet or something.

I like what she wore. It was a simple white blouse with a short navy skirt. What I like especially was how she left the top two buttons undone (I missed that bit when I first met her, so absorbed was I upon all the sights of the Chinese faces about me at the airport). Her skirt was also riding up her thighs a bit (the perils of short skirts, if one did not sit properly).

She was likely to be a bit younger than I was, and if my experiences in college were a guide, Chinese women who allow themselves to be that relaxed before a man possibly trust the man enough to allow the man to do many things. Of course, they were students, and this one was not, but I had never gotten into trouble for fondling any woman who fell into my arms, why should I think so much now?

My hand traced the strap of her bra, down to the outlines of the cups - there were lace sewn on it. I cupped it - yes, nice and full, filling my hand with softness. And I knew I had hit jackpot when she adjusted her position, to snuggle even closer to me.

With two buttons undone, there was enough space for me to simply slip my hand in, underneath the bra, the feel the lovely globe of her breast. Whether she was really that tired, or else she was pretending, I really did not care. It felt really good, and I think I could understand how Mr Li ended up marrying Mrs Li. The secretary sure has very good access to her boss indeed.

I really enjoyed feeling both of her breasts, though I was gentlemanly (yeah, as if) enough not to take off more buttons, or to remove her bra. And one could only get a kick out of feeling a woman's breasts only for a certain period of time, and I believe I must have removed my hand away from her breasts after about 20 minutes of fondling, placing it on her shoulder.

Without even looking at me, Ms Shen woke up, sat up straight, adjusted her bra, her blouse (keeping the buttons still undone!) and her hair and tried to chat with me! It was a very enjoyable conversation, and it made me want to get to know this woman more (in the biblical sense - to quote Vince in 'Sister Act')!

And so we arrived at the dormitory, where Ms Shen just showed me my quarters and left. The compound was in darkness and I see security cameras and security officers. Yes, suddenly, the excitement of having had a woman who allowed me to roam between her two breast faded, and I started wondering what I was getting myself into.

I was not given even a simple tour of the factory - just driven there immediately upon arrival and shown my dormitories at the factory! I found myself shaking my head, wondering if I was going to one day become another forced labor statistic.

"Singaporean Freed after 5 Years of Forced Labor in China". Yeah, the New Paper would have a field day, with my pictures splashed all over the front page.

What a start to my adventure in China!

Chapter 2

Forced labor or no forced labor, I slept through the night - no point worrying about something you cannot really control. I woke up to the sound of someone rapping on the door of my dormitory apartment, and realised it was already morning. I must have forgotten to set my alarm clock last night.

"Manager Chen, have you woken?" It was Ms Shen's voice. She sounded nice and sweet in the morning. I got out of bed, put on the slippers and walked over the short intervening steps to open the door. She was dressed in the same "uniform" she wore yesterday - white blouse (and yes, I noticed the 2 undone buttons this time) and navy skirt. They looked reasonably ironed and smelled fresh - I was seriously wondering if this really was a uniform.

I took a quick look at my watch, which I forgot to take off last night. It was only about 7am. Why was she in office that early?

It was when she invited to with her to the staff kitchen for breakfast, that I realised much of the staff actually lived in the grounds of the factory! That included her, and her apartment was actually next to mine. I must have been really tired (or worried!) last night, and did not notice that.

Breakfast was a simple meal of buns. She did not mention anything about the liberties I have taken with her last night, no indication whether she enjoyed it or not. Which was fine with me. No reason for me to talk about it, but I really enjoyed her soft breasts in my hand. She should be a B-cup, normally for many Chinese women.

I found out quite a few things from PA Shen (the Chinese like to add titles when addressing people of "rank") about the factory, and she introduced several of the supervisors to me. From the way they addressed me (Manager Chen) and from PA Shen's brief description of the organisational hierarchy, it was clear I was at the top of the food chain here, answerable only to Mr Li.

And I still have no idea of my salary or my benefits. Or even a hint of a contract of employment.

Chapter 3

The factory was just a few low buildings on a 2500 sqm site. It really felt more like an army barracks to me, someone who had gone through National Service. There was a security post, with RPs...uh...security guards. There was a kitchen and dining hall with cooks. I took a quite tour of the factory, accompanied by PA Shen. And the tour made me realise also why Mr Li specifically asked me if I could handle women.

The factory was rows and rows of factory workers, all young women, sewing and patching shirts, pants, skirts and dresses. All these were for the export market, their low cost prices made possible due to the dirt cheap pay of these workers. Work was scarce in Shanghai then, and the pay, though low by our standards, was a comfortable pay for a good 12 hours of work each day, 6 days a week.

As I toured the factory, I noticed something interesting, and did a quick calculation from the theories I picked up on one of the management subjects during my BSc. Yes, the Professors really loved this Singaporean student, because I was quick to remember and expound on what they taught, amazing both my "academically-challenged" Americans classmates (who were amazed at how quickly I grasped the calculations behind Economics) and my "English-challenged" Chinese ones (who were amazed at how this "Chinese" wiped the floor with the Americans).

My calculations confirmed what I had observed - there were simply too many QA ladies around. Why the factory want to spend money on hiring so many than what was necessary was beyond me, even if they really cost very little. I summoned the QA supervisor to come to my office, and could see the disturbed look on PA Shen's office as she saw that.

On the way to the office (with the QA supervisor trailing), PA Shen moved closer to me and whispered, "Manager Chen, I am your PA. You just tell me who you want to see, and I will get him or her for you. It is my job to do so. When you do this, you are telling everyone else that I am not doing my job."

It was the first cultural adjustment I had to make in my new job. Back where I came from, having the boss personally do something was considered "leading by example". Here, doing so might actually threaten to take away the job of someone else, because that person was no longer "needed".

I smiled at her, taking in another sniff of her lovely perfume. She smiled in return and moved a bit further away. After all, another lady was nearby, and people do talk. Or at least that was what I assumed, even though the driver could most definitely see the action going on yesterday evening. Weird culture here sometimes.

PA Shen took her place outside my office, as the QA supervisor stepped into my bigger office. Like PA Shen, she was barely my age, and it seemed like many of the workers here were really young. It did make me wonder where the older workers in China went. I quickly explained to her there were too many QA personnel, and I want her to point out the the poorest performer and send her to me. It was time to trim the fat.

She nodded and told me she would send Xiao Wang, a girl who kept making mistakes at the line, who had been scolded by her many times for passing what should have failed, costing the company money to reject and remake.

The Chinese took a long time to do anything. Xiao Wang appeared in my office in half an hour's time. I would have to really teach my staff what to do in future. She was already half tearing, and I believed she knew the fate that awaited her.

Xiao Wang, from the files that PA Shen gave me, was a 20-year-old from Hunan province. I was scratching my head as I read it - why were we not employing the locals? We would not need dormitories and so on if we hire locals! But that would be something for another day.

Right now, she stood before me in a simple T-shirt and a skirt. She had a nice figure. In fact, I had yet to come across a Chinese girl here with a poor figure - somewhere out there, God must have given special favor to Chinese women. She was tearing as I asked about her performance.

"What do you have to explain your performance?" I asked.

"Please, Manager Chen, I know I can be very careless. I really will change! Give me another chance, please!"

I sighed. I hate it when women plead. Again, the words of Mr Li played in my mind - could I handle women? I decided to let the facts speak for themselves.

"Look, Xiao Wang. I really have too many QA personnel. I seriously do not need you around. Why should I keep you then? What good are you to me?"

It was strange how she suddenly stopped crying and appeared to brighten up at the last sentence. Then she did something I thought was very threatening and rude - she actually walked over to my side of the table! I had to wheel my chair to face her, preparing to shield myself in case something ended up on my head.

"Manager Chen, I know it is very stressful in your position, and how tough it can be for you to make the many decisions you have to make every day. Let me help you relieve your stress."

And with that, she knelled down and moved towards me. I was somewhat taken aback by the quick turn of events, and before I could compose myself, she had unzipped my pants and fished out my cock. She smiled as I groaned, when she tenderly touched the rapidly expanding member.

And then it disappeared into her mouth. And half of it appeared. And disappeared again. All the while her tongue played with it, bringing me waves of pleasure. Yes, she really knew how to de-stress a man. I stopped her for a while, and she looked at me, puzzled, until I started pulling at her T-shirt. She smiled, released my cock from her mouth and took off her T-shirt.

The bra went next. And then the skirt. And then the panties. With the panties gone, she appeared to pause for a while, considering her next move. Xiao Wang smiled at me again and came closer to me, this time sitting on my lap. Yes, she knew I wanted more than a blowjob, as she lowered herself onto my cock, allowing it to penetrate her pussy.

I had always been a "user" when it came to women, even in my college days. Sex was for my pleasure, and I was not so keen to reciprocate. I attacked her nipples, fondled her breasts and generally allowed myself to go wild as she continued to ride me. It was not long before waves of pleasure overtook me, as I shot into her, cum after cum after cum.

Cum as still leaking from her as she put on her panties. She then turned to look at me, and said in a hopeful voice, "I believe I can be very useful to you, Manager Chen. I am a very hardworking worker."

I really did not know how to answer to someone who had exhibited such willingness to understand the needs of her manager, and to "share his load"! She most definitely should not be in QA though, and I really have too many in QA. I motioned for her to dress up, as I pulled my own pants and zipped up.

I called for PA Shen. She responded quickly and entered my office.

"PA Shen, would you like an office clerk to help you out? It would give you more time to attend to other matters more important to me," I had to stress the last part, in case she thought I was trying to take away her job.

PA Shen nodded. I suspected she understood what went on but was playing along - she appeared quite an intelligent woman. A very happy Xiao Wang was thanking me profusely as she left my office.

Leaving me wondering what kind of a work culture I am getting myself into. My first day of work, and I had no contract, no idea of my salary and benefits, with a PA who allowed me to fondle her breasts without complaint, and with an office clerk out there to please her boss!

And Mr Li only asked me if I knew how to handle women! My head was starting to swim.

The rest of the day passed by without any incident. Let me rephrase that - without any further interesting incidents. PA Shen is very meticulous, and very good at her job. The furniture for her new help was quickly arranged, and I understood that the QA supervisor was very happy that she had palmed off the problem to someone else (namely PA Shen).

The factory promptly stopped at 7pm, for everybody to go for dinner. It was very noisy, almost like a school canteen, as workers let loose and chat while they eat. I had to insist on eating together with the workers - PA Shen wanted to arrange for food to be delivered to my office, as befitting the status of the General Manager. Sorry, but this Singaporean, educated in California, was not like any Chinese or Taiwanese.

I suspect those around me ate very, very uncomfortably that evening. PA Shen had arranged for all the supervisors to accompany me. Somehow, I instinctively understood that dismissing them to eat elsewhere would have made them lose face in front of their workers.

I could only sigh. It sure looked like Manager Chen eating at the dinning hall would be something not very frequent, much as he preferred to do so.

I went back to my office to finish off some work. I found quite a lot of difficulty in doing so. My Chinese was pretty good, having come from a Chinese high school, but I was faced with a lot of technical Chinese plus jargon and local usage of words that I found familiar. I gave up after a while - it sure looked like I might need PA Shen to help me out a bit tomorrow.

The lights were already off in most of the apartments, at about 8.30pm, as I walked back to mine. The Chinese sure slept early. And then it began to rain, and I ran to my apartment.

It was my first encounter with the coldness of Shanghai buildings. For some reason, the materials the walls are made up of was not particularly good at insulation, and I did not have my winter gear with me (it was autumn only, come on!). It was cold! I quickly changed (I decided not to make the mad rush to the bathroom a distance away) and tried to hide underneath the sheets. I made a mental note to get better and thicker blankets, and tried to get to sleep.

And then came the knocking on the door. I groaned as I realized I would have to get out of whatever little protection my blanket was giving me, to answer the door.

It was PA Shen. She was dressed in pajamas, and holding on to a blanket wrapped about her like a huge cloak.

"Manager Chen, it is going to be cold, would you like another blanket?"

I grabbed her into the apartment, so that I could close the door - the blasts of wind were freezing both of us.

"Thank you, PA Shen! Where did you get the blanket? Do we have any more for the other workers? It is going to be cold!"

She paused, trying to think of an answer. It did not take a genius to guess why she was stumped for an answer.

"PA Shen...this is your blanket, yes?"

She nodded, and I could only shake my head. What kind of a factory treated their worker like this! The blanket was thin, the walls were thin, and...there were no extra blankets? I made it a point to address this issue when I meet Mr Li. Coming to think of it, when would I meet him?

I would have to answer that question later. PA Shen was shivering in the cold room.

"Look PA Shen. It is better for both of us to sleep together with the 2 blankets. It would be warmer for us. I would have to speak to Li zong (that would be how they address Mr Li) about this tomorrow."

PA Shen did not even blush as she followed me under the blankets. Now that I thought of it, I felt that even then I was too brazen. I did not feel any bit of shame at all as I held her closer to me, and I knew then that it was "action stations, this is not a drill" when she actually snuggled closer.

I am not a very good sex story writer, and I will not pretend I am one like Virginia Andrews or Sydney Sheldon. Even the writers of Mills and Boons will probably lecture me for the lack of explicit writing.

I like the rush, the feeling of having a woman yield to me. There was no resistance as I took off the buttons of the pajamas top one by one and finally relieved her of the item. There was no resistance as I released the drawstrings and took off the pants. Her mouth came to me, and melted in mine as I unclipped the bra and took off the panties.

There was no pretense at love. I just wanted to release. I positioned her on top of me, and guided my cock in. PA Shen was no virgin, and definitely very experienced at what she did - she helped guide the cock in. She must have pleased whoever manager she used to serve in the past the same way too.

The feeling was just top of the world, as I pumped together with her. It was all over quickly, as cum after cum shot into her. It was unprotected sex, but I really could not care much. With the wisdom that many years had given me, I would have done things differently now, but which lad of 24 years really think when a willing woman was there for one's taking?

It was a very nice and comfortably warm night, underneath the blankets, a woman to hug to sleep, with the rain outside.

I decided then, that perhaps the contract, the salary and the benefits were not so important after all...

Sigh. Youth and stupidity.

PA Shen slipped out from my bed while it was still dark. She dressed quickly, her figure making a nice silhouette against the tiny bit of light streaming in. I had had both angmo and Chinese girls back in college, but Chinese girls were the best. I liked how they really treat you like a man, with breasts that were just right, and really tight pussies.

I grabbed her and gave her a deep kiss, before letting go of her. For once, I saw her blush, as she quickly slipped out of my apartment. She did not want people to see her in my apartment I guess. Chinese culture is a very "ignore" culture. Everybody knows what is going on, but will choose to ignore it and not make any fuss, sweeping everything under the carpet and treating things as if nothing has happened.

Sure enough, there was no indication at work that she had slept with me the last night. I was respectfully addressed as "Manager Chen", as she passed me the various documents and screened the visitors. If this was in the States, she would have made seductive glances at me, or given other indication that she had been sleeping with me. Instead, she kept her distance, at her table just outside my office.

The large amount of Chinese I was getting in touch with was giving me headaches. I gave up and called her into my office. I wanted to explain to me some of the stuff inside. I could read the Chinese, sure, but some of the technical vocabulary was really tough for me.

She came over to my end of the table, and it was such a total difference from how Xiao Wang came over. She was not aggressive, but walked nicely and stood next to me, as she explained some of the stuff. I like the perfume she wore. She was probably the only woman at the factory who wore perfume.

There was one question I really must ask. She was wearing the same white blouse and navy skirt again!

"PA Shen, I noticed you wearing this same ensemble everyday. Is this a company uniform?"

She blushed and hesitated, and I realized immediately that I had committed yet another Chinese faux pas. When asking potentially embarrassing questions, one should ask in a roundabout way, not directly.

"Sorry, I mean, am I supposed to wear a uniform too, like the rest of you?"

I could almost hear a sigh of relief from her.

"No, you do not have to, Manager Chen. Nobody in administration has to wear a uniform. If not for the fact that she does not have anything proper to wear, Xiao Wang would not be wearing her uniform in the office too."

I decided not to satisfy my curiosity, lest I drive her into the grave through embarrassment. I nodded and put my arm at her waist, to pull her closer to me, as I asked more questions about the documents in front of me. Her perfume was really heavenly.

And what man worth his salt would just let his hand stay at the waist when a yielding woman was next to you? I explore everywhere as she read out. The breasts (after relieving a button or so, since she was standing and I sitting), the thighs (she had very smooth and lovely thighs) and she only gave out some giggles when my hand went to the love-spot in between her legs.

"It's ticklish."

I laughed, took my hand out of her skirt and patted her bum.

"Thank you, PA Shen. You were really a great help to me."

She giggled. She looked so cute when she giggled, but that giggle was quickly suppressed, and she returned to the serious PA Shen, Personal Assistant to the General Manager.

"No need to thank me, Manager Chen. It is part of my job to assist you in any way possible. If there is nothing else, I shall carry on with my work?"

It would take me a while to understand that the Chinese are very uncomfortable when someone of a higher station (like a parent, a teacher or a manager) praises them. They would either squirm, or giggle, or laugh to break the embarrassment of the situation.

She walked out and was at the door when she stopped and turned.

"It was difficult to find proper office clothes that are cheap. This place was closing down and had 4 sets to sell cheaply. I bought all of them."

She giggled again and quickly closed the door. I realized that she must have felt comfortable enough with me to blurt that out. I found myself drawn to her, and I realized what kind of magic Mrs Li must have weaved on Mr Li to snag such a man.

I decided to take her shopping the coming weekend. And then I remembered.

The only money I had were US dollars (and not many of them!). I had no contract, no visa, no nothing! Maybe I should give Mr Li a call. And then I realized something else.

I do not have Mr Li's number.

Images of the headline of forced labor returned to my mind again.

Back in my college days, if a woman chose to sleep with me, she would move into my apartment. Hence it was quite surprising to me that the next few nights would go by without PA Shen coming over to my apartment to share blankets. I almost began to wish it would rain again at night, just to have her over. I was not really hard-up for it, though, due to other arrangements.

PA Shen was still as accommodating to me whenever I want to roam her body, whenever I could get the excuse to get her to explain the documents on my table. It was amazing how a Singaporean who thought he was bilingual, and who was the "bilingual star" in college could be stumped by some much new Chinese stuff. It was not difficult for me to get a grasp of things though. The days of getting to grope PA Shen was likely to become less and less as they go by.

Xiao Wang, on the other hand, proved to be very good at making sure her boss got his "stress relief". She knew what it meant when I asked PA Shen to get her to my office. Every day would find her coming into my office, where she would take off her T-shirt and skirt, and I would unclasp her bra and remove her panties. My "throne" was a useful place, and it was amazing how flexible her body was, that she would simply sit on my throbbing rod, without my having to move much from my executive chair. I like the feeling of cumming into her pussy, and in my youthful ignorance, I did not think much of issues like STDs and pregnancy. Stupid young fellow.

I finally received a call from Mr Li on Thursday. We exchanged a lot of pleasantries, and found out that his son was studying at a local university. I was still new to how things are done in China then, but I would later find out that he pulled quite a few strings to get him into the university.

I reported to him some of the matters I had handled and told him of some changes I had made (streamlining the QA Dept), as well as my proposals for increased welfare for the workers (thicker blankets!). Mr Li laughed and told me to do what I wanted to do, but it would be good to check out if the workers want the thicker blankets in the first place!

I would find out later that I should have done my homework. The blankets were summer blankets, and the workers did not want the thicker winter blankets until the late autumn. And yes, the company warehouse did store the winter blankets. I sure was glad Mr Li did not think I was some useless person over this, and learnt from there to check and ask, and find out, rather than assume. It was a lesson I would bring with me throughout my career in China.

Mr Li also spoke to me of my salary, which made me go "huh?" within my heart. It was about three-quarters of what I would expect to get were I to work in the States! And I was supposed to be the General Manager? There was no talk of benefits, and from the way he spoke, it was not negotiable, neither was there going to be a contract!

Again, it would take me many years before I would understand that everything is negotiable in China, but as no boss will present that fact - the employee is expected to speak to the boss, present his point with some thanksgiving over how well the boss has treated him and so on, before asking for anything beyond what was "negotiated". And before the advent of the Law of Labor Contracts (which was around a few years ago, but only seriously enforced a year back, in 2008), it was true that nobody signed contracts!

Mr Li ended the conversation by telling me that the Finance guys would be here on Saturday to give out the salary for the week. Apparently, Mr Li's factory gives out salaries by the week. The workers would grumble in future over my policy to give out salaries by the month. Too bad.

With a salary of 3/4 of starting salaries my peers who stayed behind in the States had, and with no contract and no benefits spelled out, visions of forced labor again flooded my mind.

It was already the late morning when PA Shen called me to tell me that Mdm Li, the Finance Manager, has arrived. I called for her to take her in, and a nice middle-aged lady stepped in with PA Shen. We chatted a while, talking about the factory and other pleasantries, before asking me to check that the salary has arrived.

I went "huh"? for a while in my mind, as I went out of my office with her, to the administration office outside. It was a sight to remember. Envelopes after envelopes, thick with cash within, removed from several suitcases. Two big guys stood watch while Xiao Wang and another clerk checked against the employee list. They did not pay by cheques or bank transfers but by cash!

Then came the queues of workers, and they were released by teams to collect their pay. Upon questioning, Mdm Li told me that they would proceed to their apartments, where these stack of cash would be kept in their personal lockers - a necessity since 4 persons would share an apartment, unlike the General Manager. They would then proceed to their stations, happier and in a better mood.

"So you have to come down every week just to deliver the cash?"

"Yes, the company pays the workers weekly."

I found myself scratching my head over this. The numbers just did not add.

"Have you thought of how much gas and man-hours you would save if you pay the workers monthly? You only need to count once, and you also save on gas for 3 trips. Not only that, but cashflow is likely to be easier on the company, and you may even earn more interest from the bank by leaving it there longer."

There was a quick look of "enlightenment" upon her face, and she nodded, "You have a point there, Manager Chen. I should bring up the matter to my brother."

She gave me, suddenly the person with the look of "enlightenment" on his face, a pat on my arm, and said, "My brother has picked a good person to run his business. No wonder he spoke so highly of you."

I glared at PA Shen as she sheepishly tried to look away from me. She had forgotten to brief me who Mdm Li was. As a young man, new to China, I could not have the experience I have now, to realise that important positions like finance usually go to family or very close buddies, here in a land where it is not easy to trust strangers.

The day passed by without any incident, and I received my huge bundle of cash. In order not to appear "low class", I chose to keep that thick envelope full of red RMB100 notes in the pocket of my jacket. I was quite conscious that it made me look like I had had a mastectomy.

When PA Shen took my dinner to my office, I checked out with her how the weekend is like for the workers here. I found out that not many workers go out to the city on Sunday, preferring to hang around at the town nearby. The worker's buses (2 of them!) would take them to the town in the morning, and then take them back at night. No food would be provided on Sunday.

As for the General Manager, he could have the use of the private van to take him to the city, if he wanted to. Of course I would!

"PA Shen, as punishment for the embarrassment you have caused for me today, you will have to accompany me to the city tomorrow!"

She giggled, "Manager Chen, it is my duty to accompany you anyway! Thank you for letting me off so lightly!"

I laughed and grabbed her towards me, "No way I am going to let you off lightly!"

She tried to struggle but I had her pinned against me. The softness of her breasts felt so good, as she found herself crushed against me, and I knew she could feel my erection against her crotch. She stopped struggling as my lips met hers. They were lovely, soft and her tongue quickly found its way to mine.

My hands began to roam again. Under her skirt one of them went, and pulled down the panties. She did not resist. Neither did she when I unzipped the skirt and let it fall on the floor. Her pussy looked so inviting, and I quickly stripped off my pants and briefs.

I did not even wait to take off her top, as I lay her down on the sofa and quickly penetrated her. Her soft moans told me she was ready, and I began to pump. And took off the buttons of the blouse. I was really on the edge, and chose to simply push the bra up to release the breasts, for me to fondle and enjoy.

And topple over the edge I did quickly, as I climaxed and shot loads after loads after loads of cum into her.

It was a nice way to end Saturday evening. Perhaps getting only 3/4 of the pay in the States was not such a bad thing after all!

My first impression of the factory, that it was like a military base, never left me, and Sunday morning was like a parade. The workers lined up in "sections" around the "parade square". As the General Manager, I was invited to give a speech. This I was prepared, for PA Shen briefed me of this yesterday.

It was the shortest speech the workers had ever heard, comprising a note to enjoy themselves, to come back in one piece (I played a pun on a Chinese word for this, bringing the assembly to laughter). I would later learn that Chinese bosses like to make long, boring speeches. Yeah, I still remembered the one Mr Li made. It was hard not to fall asleep, and I saluted my colleagues for looking like they were totally absorbed in his speech.

The workers filed up the buses in neat lines. It was so different from what I would see later when I went to the city, where they pushed and shoved to get up the buses. It was a good thing I need not go on one of these public buses, or I would have been the last to get up, if at all.

The van driver opened the door for me, and PA Shen and I went up the van. As the van approached the gates, the security officers on duty saluted me, and I saluted back, as we left the compound. I would find out later that news that I saluted back had circulated wildly around the security office. Nobody had ever returned their salute. To me, I thought it was normal for a superior officer to return a salute, from my days in the military. Oh well, the Chinese do not have compulsory military service, so what would they know?

It was a long journey to the city. One thing I do not like about factories was how far away they were from the action. At least the long journey was compensated with PA Shen leaning against me. It was a good feeling to have a woman who did not protest when you undo not just the top but the second button of her blouse, allowing me easy access to her wonderful breasts.

She was wearing a red bra, and I was quite surprised that she did not mind showing it off against her white blouse. I did not remember the girls in California dressed like this, nor in Singapore. Of course, now in the 21st Century, I can see so many instances of coloured or heavily laced lingerie within a thin blouse, worn nonchalantly by not just Chinese women, but even Singaporean women as well!

I was also happy that we took a seat somewhat further away from the driver (I chose the seat, and she sat next to me). I was very sure the driver knew what was going on, but he was a "professional" at his work. Drive well, drive safely, talk little and ignore what was meant to be ignored. It was no wonder that he got assigned to be the driver of this van, meant for visitors and the General Manager.

We alighted near a prime shopping area in Shanghai - Nanjing Road! It was still a proper road, meant for cars, in those days, and it was already so crowded with pedestrians. The scene at the airport came to me again. Huge crowds of people milling about too small a place. Bicycles and trams were all over the place, and people would cross the streets without a thought, resulting in really slow traffic. I realised why PA Shen had asked the driver to alight us near, and not at the shopping area.

I asked her to take me to a tailors, so that I can get some suits made for me. They were really cheap, and I was very impressed at the designs available. I then asked the tailor to make some ladies' suit for her! The elderly gentleman who took my measurements was surprised, and so was PA Shen. They normally do not do women's suits.

PA Shen was worried over something else too. She went closer and whispered into my ear, "Manager Chen, I cannot afford this!" I simply smiled at her and winked, followed by a loud, "I am paying for the girl here."

The tailor shrugged and began to take PA Shen's measurements, with her giggling away when he had to measure the bustline and the waistline. They would be ready in a week's time. I was not sure if it was just my imagination, but PA Shen's eyes looked like they were tearing when she gave me a hug and a quick peck, before moving further away, but still holding on to my arm.

We had lunch at a nice restaurant, again with me picking up the tab. And again I was surprised at how cheap things were. Shanghai in the 90s was very different from how it is now - inflation has really caught up, and everything is really expensive now.

We went for more shopping, and I bought some make-up for the woman who seemed to have become stuck to my arm. Now those were expensive, and I found out that they were imported. PA Shen was very happy to get them, and I guess that was good enough.

The afternoon was over quickly, and the driver was there to pick us up. The journey back was even more exciting. PA Shen took the initiative almost as soon as we moved off. It was already dark then, and I suppose she must have felt safe enough to do whatever she wanted to do.

Zap! Went the belt. Zip! Went the zipper. Her quick fingers fished out my cock in no time and I felt like I was in heaven as she rested her head on my lap and began licking at the head! She really took it nice and slow, though I was worried over the many bumps along the way - it was a really bumpy ride in the poor roads of Shanghai.

She appeared to be very experienced at playing with a cock while on bumpy roads, though, and she really knew how to prolong the experience. For half an hour, she was licking, playing around, giving me a great sensation, until I decided enough was enough. I gave her head a push, and she understood, engulfing my cock with her mouth.

I moved my hand up the back of her thighs, pushing up her skirt as she half-sat on the seat. I attacked her panty-covered pussy with vigor, enjoying myself as the momentum began to build. My hand then went into the bottom of her blouse, fixated upon the prize - her breasts, covered only by her bra. Which was pushed out of position quickly so that I can fondle them.

It was all over quickly, as I shot load after load into her mouth. She held on, until all the cum was shot, until my cock relaxed, before she let go. She must have swallowed them all, for I did not see her spitting anything out. She gave a giggle, adjusted her blouse and skirt, and rested on my shoulder on the last leg of our journey to the factory.

My hand was fondling her breasts throughout the rest of the journey. I insisted that she not button up her blouse but allow me access.

The workers were already back, some happy, some tired. Another work week would begin after this night of rest.

Time passes by quickly - it has been 3 weeks since I settled into the factory. The salary is still credited weekly, even though I have already submitted the proposal to credit it monthly a week ago. They sure work really slowly around here.

I could understand also PA Shen's reluctance to pop over my apartment more often by now. Chinese women are very interesting. They can be very open when they are alone with you, away from others, but the fear of giving negative impressions to those about them is always on their minds. I attribute it perhaps to how the Chinese tend to think in terms of the collective, and the fear of ostracization is likely to be constantly on their psyche.

I must admit, though, that I really enjoyed the 2 visits she made - using the pretext of discussions. I tried to summon her over less often, as I began to understand her anxiety over the other administrative staff and factory workers seeing her entering and exiting my apartment. It was also the reason why I did not ask Xiao Wang over - for her to come from her quarters would invite even more gossip than PA Shen.

On Thursday (I remembered it was a Thursday, because it was 2 days before payday!), Mr Li, now the man I address as Li dong (the 'dong' honorific is used to address a board director), took me to a KTV to introduce me to the other GMs in his other factories. This outing is supposed to be a monthly bonding affair, and till today, I understand that all GMs attend, even if they are sick. It is a matter of face given to their boss, and no one in his right mind will miss a party anyway.

The KTV was at some faraway place again. The Chinese seemed not to mind long distance travelling to reach good places. Dinner was held at a restaurant in the same building as the KTV (same boss - and he happened to be a friend of Li dong...guanxi runs deep in China indeed).

All Chinese dinner are the same. The host will make a long boring speech, which the guests have to respond to with intermittent claps, cheers and "good!" (the last only if you are on par in terms of position, never do that as a junior). The GMs had all mastered the art of looking interested and engaged in long speeches. It would take me a while, but I also understood the need for the claps and the cheers. They help to keep one awake!

Lots of food would be served by pretty waitresses. In China, there are so many people desperate for jobs, with little legal laws to protect them, that many are truly hired for their looks. Such hiring would never have passed equal opportunity hire in the States.

And when I said lots of food, I really meant it. I am always very amazed at the amount of wasted food at each meal. To the Chinese, wasted food is part of the dinner entertainment. It is a symbol of the generosity of the host, and the "modesty" of the guest at not being gluttonous.

My first experience with Chinese rice wine was not pleasant. Imagine drinking vodka neat and you would get what I mean. I could smell the fumes from the drink held at arm's length. It is likely wonder that liver failure is common in China. If you do not believe how powerful that thing is, try pouring the wine over a slab of meat. The cooking process begins immediately.

All of us, by then half-drunk, went up to the KTV upstairs. We were presented with a flesh parade, as the mummy put up a line-up of beauties for us to pick from. There were too many of them to choose! I believe I picked one with boobs that looked like they were spilling out from her dress. It is unfortunate that I could no longer remember how she looked like - I suspect my half-drunk mind picked her on the basis of her mammaries.

There were no English songs! I had to struggle with all the Teresa Teng songs I could remember, as Li dong and the other GMs cheered me on with singing. Yeah, I was the one entertaining them, being the newbie. In future trips, I would learn that singing is not a primary activity at KTVs. It was a good thing my Chinese is good, otherwise I would have been a clown there. But there again, I was in China precisely because my Chinese is good!

As the liquor began to flow, and everybody got even more drunk, the party got more interesting. My hostess, for example, began to exchange kisses with me (she took the initiative!), which really got me wanting more. There were no protests as I groped her breasts, slipping into her dress from the neckline, past the dress and past the bra. There were no protests as my other hand slipped past the hemline (already short!), to grope her thighs and to finally remove the panties.

It was the same with the other managers. One of them actually took off the top of his girl. Mine was wearing a dress, and she resisted a bit when I tried to peel the spaghetti straps off her shoulder. I left it at that (the straps hanging off her arms), something I would not do nowadays. I think I was a lot more "naive" then, and could not grasp at the concept of "getting my money's worth".

The singing (and groping and kissing) session ended at 2am, and by then we were all really drunk. Li dong paid for the liquor, as well as tips to the girls, the mummy and the xiaomei ("little sister", the waitress in charge of the room who also picked the songs for us). It was really good money for these girls, equivalent to an entire month's wages in some poorer provinces, where they inevitably come from.

I was expected to still work the next day, so I slept on the way back in the van, and needed to be woken up and escorted by the driver to my apartment. The Chinese partied hard but they work hard. I was still expected to work the next day, hangover or not. I suppose such "work ethics" separated the managers from the workers, the latter whom drinking would create a total wreck.

And indeed, the hangover the next day made me wonder if coming to China was such a good idea after all.

It is amazing how a mere General Manager of a factory in China could take on many other roles, beyond that of his job. As the "little lord" 小霸王 of the factory, he was expected to solve disputes, "protect" his workers and so on. I learnt, after 3 months on the job, that I was expected to also be a judge and executioner as well.

My workers, by now, had become used to my daily walks around the factory compound. Apparently, General Managers in China stay in their ivory towers all the time, and workers hardly get to see their "lord". I liked to walk around. It allowed me to see things were getting on, and kept the supervisors on their toes.

And so it was, that passing by the security office, I came across a crying woman with an infant in her arms, tangling with two security officers - one of them my Chief of Security! They let go of the struggling woman, and they saw me approach. The Chief of Security was visibly upset at seeing me.

"What is the matter, 队长 Chief?" In China, the title is normally used rather than names, even last names. It can get very, very formal, even when someone higher up addresses his juniors.

"Chen zong, I..."

At hearing his address to me, the woman immediately flung herself at my feet, still holding on to the infant! I could tell that the Chief was very, very anxious by now.

"Chen zong, please be our judge! My useless man has not been sending money home for two months! How is my daughter and I going to eat? I have no money at all! Whatever money I have has been spent on my journey here..."

She started sobbing, and she was loud. I tapped on her shoulder and motioned for her to get up. I waved Chief over and announced loudly to his deputy, "Please take over the security right now. I need to talk to someone in my office."

His deputy beamed visibly. I could not be sure it was because of the honour of having the GM tell him to take over, or because he saw a promotion on his cards, with a possible removal of his Chief over a scandal. Yes, in China, anything that makes one lose face terribly is a big scandal, and to the Chief, having his wife come all here was a terrible loss of face, not just in front of his staff, but most importantly, in front of his superior.

PA Shen did a great job of comforting the crying baby (she took the girl out) as I listened to the sob story. My Chief of Security had not sent money home for over two months, and the family was very dependent on his salary. So what was the problem? My mind began to think of all the possible vices. Gambling? Women? Drink? I could not think of any of them as possibilities, knowing my Chief of Security. It was weird.

I looked to him, and he sheepishly started talking. Apparently, my Chief of Security has started taking an interest to really expensive cigarettes (中华 Zhonghua brand - they are not the most expensive, but are priced beyond most workers), and has been smoking his salary away. I could only shake my head - what had gone into his head?

And so I did the charade of berating him in front of his wife, and did what I felt was a masterful piece of work at saving the face of everyone involved. In front of his wife, I threatened to dismiss him, because I have always believed in the importance of the family, and how could I trust someone who could not take care of his family, blah, blah, blah.

Both of them were sobbing by now, and his wife knelt in front of me in another display of drama, as she begged me to forgive her husband, that he was actually a very good man. I summoned the most "Justice Bao" look I could give, and stared at him.

"Chief, your wife has asked me to forgive you. Your records have been very good, and it was not a major vice you have committed. I am going to give your wife 2 weeks' pay in advance, so she could at least take it home to feed your girl. I will not be so easy on you the next time. And please, if you want to smoke your lungs away, at least get something that fits your budget!"

By now both of them were thanking me profusely. And since the paymaster is not here (this is not Saturday), the 2 weeks' pay comes from my own pocket first. Not a big deal, it is probably a night out to me, at my pay scale.

The bigger problem, which I could not resolve, was the loss of respect among his staff. No show I can put up could help him this time. The next few weeks would be crucial for this man, in order for him to overcome the loss of face of having his wife make a scene at the factory.

I think I am starting to enjoy my time here!

As expected, the Chief of Security resigned two weeks after the incident, citing the need for him to return to his 老家 (hometown) to look after his ailing parents. I promoted one of the 班长 (Shift Supervisor) to his post, an action that made the other 班长 also decide he also has to look after his ailing parents. The chain of action stopped when I promoted one of the security officers to Shift Supervisor. Thankfully, no security officer decided he has ailing parents too.

My first encounter with how cunning Chinese women can be also happened around this time. Xiao Wang, who have been serving her GM well in his office nearly every day, whispered into my ear that morning, as she rode my cock, "Chen zong, I believe I am pregnant."

I raised an eyebrow, and stopped. Even a young man of 24 could detect hints of trouble ahead. I found myself asking the most stupid question, "Don't you take contraceptives?"

It was her turn to roll her eyes, and she replied, "What are contraceptives? Look, Chen zong, I believe this baby will be of good stock, because he comes from you."

I was already starting to get very fed up, and removed her from my cock, dressing up quickly. She stood there, leaning against my table, still half-naked, dressed only in her bra. The woman who used to subserviently talk to me now had that sneer on her face, believing she has the upper hand.

"It's still early. You can go for an abortion. Here is RMB100, take it and go on paid leave tomorrow. I will get the driver to take you to the hospital."

A life was worth only RMB100 in those days. Today, it can be worth RMB800-1200 at a proper hospital, and much cheaper in illegal clinics. Life is cheap in China.

She took the RMB100 and requested a phone call. I shrugged as she took the phone, dialled, and spoke in her dialect. Nearly 10 minutes passed by with me staring at her, without no words (she was also silent), while she still stood dressed only in her bra. There was a sound at the other end, and she began to cry, speaking to someone there in her native dialect. The whole conversation lasted another 10 minutes, before she hung up, picked up her clothes and started dressing up.

PA Shen was very worried when she saw Xiao Wang leave, eyes swollen from having cried. She looked to me quizzically, and I told her that she had used my phone. I could not understand what she said because she was speaking in her native dialect.

Hell broke out the next afternoon. PA Shen ran into my office and told me that there were trouble-makers at the gates. I walked quickly with her to the gates, where 4 security officers were trying to stop 4 men yelling away there. There was one woman present among the group. Xiao Wang, and it was clear she was on their side, and shouting away as well.

The new Chief of Security came to meet me halfway, and told me these were Xiao Wang's brothers, and they demanded to see me, for me to "take responsibility". My eyes narrowed in anger. The Chinese are so uncivilised. I thought only mafia resolved matters this way.

"Chen zong, let me do the speaking." It was PA Shen, and I nodded. In China, the underlings try to insulate their higher-ups against direct confrontation. There is a reason for it. It makes it easier for the higher-ups to think and to reject any negotiated points if necessary. Foreigners who have no idea of how Chinese negotiate eventually end up very frustrated and on the losing end.

By now, there were curious staff who tried to come over, but who were shooed away by both their supervisors and by the security team.

"队长, call for 林大队长 (no idea what the equivalent is - ASP or SUP?). We may need their help."

The Chief of Security was surprised but quickly ran to his office to make a phone call. The Chinese do not like to call on the police, preferring to resolve the matters themselves. I suspect though, that this may be way above our heads, and do not want things to blow up.

PA Shen tried to reason with the men but they would not listen. Then Xiao Wang did something that shocked everyone. She slapped PA Shen. I quickly rushed over, despite the fact that I should keep my distance, as she began to push PA Shen to the ground.

I was glad I was a fast runner, and adrenaline made me run even faster. I pulled Xiao Wang off, and gave *her* a slap, before she could do more damage to the other woman. She dropped to the ground and started rolling around, sobbing her hearts out. I could only look in shock, as fistfights broke out between my security officers and the men.

I was very grateful to hear the sounds of sirens, and even more grateful to see the police officers tearing the fighting men off from each other. SUP Lin nodded at me as he stayed within one of the police cars. It was not wise for him to acknowledge me.

Peace quickly returned as Xiao Wang and the men were bundled into police cars. I ordered the Chief of Security to get the other shift to take over, and got my injured security officers up the van, together with PA Shen. The driver was briefed by me to come back to pick me up after taking them to the hospital to be treated.

As I stood there watching the van drive off, the Chief of Security told me that SUP Lin had called and wanted me to be present at the 公安局 Public Security Bureau. He would send a police car to pick me up.

I nodded. This could potentially be very troublesome for me.

The police car came quickly, and I wanted it to come quickly, for I was anxious to check on my injured security officers and especially PA Shen. Inside the car, my mind went back to the last dinner that SUP Lin and I had, at an upmarket restaurant, over plenty of baijiu.

I was introduced to SUP Lin when I visited the police station, where all foreigners have to register at when they arrive. SUPs do not normally make rounds, but news have come to him that a foreigner employed by Li zong had arrived and he wanted to personally know that person.

The dinner was another usual Chinese affair, with long speeches and plenty of drinking, except that I was the host and the SUP the guest of honour. I was warned by Mr Li, who told me not to take them to KTVs at the first dinner - such "after dinner activities" are reserved when the host and guest of honour are already more acquainted, and showed their "brotherliness" by shedding even their inhibitions about women and horrible singing.

Besides the promise of "listening to his wonderful singing" that SUP Lin made at the dinner, there was another promise, made after each of us must have had at least 2 bottles of that horrible baijiu. He promised to deal with any troubles that this foreigner would come across, in front of my managers and his subordinates.

That promise would be sorely tested today, I noted, as the police car arrived and I walk into the police station. I was led by the police officer straight to SUP Lin's office. He was sitting at a sofa, smoking a cigarette. He saw me and beckoned me over. I should have been nervous, but was surprisingly calm as I sat down.

"Chen zong, my men have already taken care of the situation. You should be more careful in future."

"Thank you so much, SUP Lin. I did not realise that she would ask her brothers to create trouble over what was obviously consensual sex."

SUP Lin started laughing.

"Brothers? Chen zong, they are brothers all right, but not hers. One of the men is her husband, and the rest are petty gangsters that hang out with him. This bloody man had his wife fucked by another man, and instead of dealing with his wife, decided to milk it for all it was worth. These kind of men, I have seen so many in my years as a policeman."

I was so shocked, that I could not find any words to reply. This is China, where a man can decide that having his wife fucked by another man was no big deal, as long as compensation is given. No wonder the society is so fucked up, with values like these.

"I can put them all behind bars for a while, the men for rioting and the woman for blackmail. I have friends in her native town who can spread the news that she's a slut and she can no longer face her village. I think this is an appropriate punishment for them."

I shook my head, "SUP Lin, we should have a 宽阔心胸 (wide expanse of heart, meaning a generous heart). I believe they have learnt their lesson. Please let them go."

It was SUP Lin's turn to look surprised.

"You foreigners are really different from us, Chen zong. We really need to learn from you. The slut has to apologise to you, though. This one I insist."

I went across, to take a seat next to SUP Lin, as he summoned his junior officer to bring Xiao Wang over. I really did not wish to blow up this matter, but an apology, followed by some dramatic display of repentance, is considered very important among the Chinese for a closure to any matter. I would have to be part of the charade.

In China, a 大队 is in charge of an entire district or minor city, with enough police officers (including auxiliaries) to go one-on-one with the SPF. There is really no equivalent in tiny Singapore for this, and I really struggle sometimes to tell my Singaporean and American friends what that really is - and so Superintendent was what I could come up with.

Well, the Chinese are fond of ceremonies and anything to show off anything, and it is no different with their Pubic Security Bureau. Xiao Wang was marched in, still handcuffed, by a junior officer. She stood there, just a meter or two from us, sobbing, before SUP Lin barked the order for the handcuffs to be taken off. The junior officer duly complied, before saluting and then leaving the room as SUP Lin waved him off.

The moment the junior officer shut the door, Xiao Wang immediately made a dramatic display of kneeling down in front of us, sobbing away and telling us how sorry she was, that she had been a bad citizen and a shame to her family, and basically all the sob stories that I had become accustomed to from the Chinese whenever they wanted to weasel out of a responsibility.

"You 刁民 insolent citizen! I heard that you want to bear the shameful child within you? I have checked, and found out that you actually are 超生 ("over-birth"). Have you thought of the troubles you will cause your family if you give birth to yet another?"

China has a One Child Policy in place. In more enlightened places like Shanghai, a huge fine equivalent to 200% of their yearly earnings have to be paid for the second child, and the woman forcibly sterilized. In less enlightened places like the villages, zealous party officials wishing to score points with their superiors will force the termination of the pregnancy even as late of the third trimester, and the woman forcibly sterilized.

"I'm sorry, 警官同志, Mr Police Comrade! I'm sorry, Chen zong! I have already been sterilized after my "over-birth". I do not have any child inside me, I'm sorry to have lied to you. I am wrong, I am wrong! Please forgive me!"

I hated all these melodrama, but hearing that she did not actually have a child actually cooled me down a bit. SUP Lin nodded his head and looked to me, "Chen zong, what do you have to say?"

Xiao Wang was about to make another show of drama before me when I motioned for her to stop.

"Xiao Wang, you should not have lied to me. Nor should you be having sex with me if you have a husband. I am prepared to let everything go, but..."

I motioned for her to shut up, as she tried to interrupt me with her show of profuse thanksgiving. The Chinese can be so fake, so fake.

"I can no longer employ you after what has happened. There is no need for you to return to the factory once you leave the police station. I'd get someone to pack your things up and send it off to your hometown."

"Thank you for letting me off, Chen zong, thank..."

I had to cut her off again, "Do not thank me. Thank my 弟兄 ("brother" - and here I could not help but notice a look of pride in SUP Lin's eyes at the thought of having a foreigner as a "brother") for being generous enough to your husband and you."

She turned to SUP Lin and bowed before him, thanking him profusely again.

"Xiao Wang, I am sure you know how to thank SUP Lin better than this. He is my brother, and he can share what I use too."

Xiao Wang was one of the most intelligent woman I had ever come across in China. It was a pity her intelligence was not put to better use, like schooling or business. She understood immediately what I meant, and moved quickly, still on her knees, to SUP Lin. She immediately pulled at the zip and fished out his cock.

After 3 months in China, very few things surprised me. And so it was, that I was not very surprised to see SUP Lin not being shocked, but relaxing immediately to the turn of events. Xiao Wang took off her T-shirt, and then her bra, and immediately tackled the cock with gusto. SUP Lin also wasted no time, enjoying her breasts and fellatio skills.

The next thing that happened surprised me though. SUP Lin quickly came into her mouth. SUP Lin was more than 10 years older than I was, and I expected men of that age to take a long time before they could come. Either he had some dysfunction or else Xiao Wang's skills must have been good. I could pretty much rule out the latter, having experienced her skills myself.

Xiao Wang swallowed the cum, and started crawling over to me. I was about to stop her when I realised it was a good opportunity to show that I am a brother, willing to share everything. As expected, her fellatio skills were not exactly very fantastic, but I cummed quickly with my hands mauling her breasts.

Both of us have shared the mouth of a woman.

Xiao Wang was dismissed, the junior officer taking her out as she again profusely thanked us for letting her off. She was no longer sobbing, and looked absolutely like nothing had ever happened. I really hate how fake the Chinese can be.

SUP Lin took a puff and we both suddenly laughed spontaneously as we found ourselves, for some reason, staring at each other's groin. We made arrangements for dinner and "listening to our singing" two evenings later. I took up his offer to send me to the hospital in a police car, to check on my staff.

I hoped everyone was fine, but especially PA Shen, who could have avoided injury if she had not volunteered to handle the negotiations. The police siren rang as the junior officer drove the car out of the police station, I deep in thought.

I could never forget the sight, my first visit to a local hospital, the Sixth People's Hospital. The junior officer took me to the A&E, and accompanied me through the emergency area.

To say that the place looked like a scene out of a war movie was an understatement. Pools of blood gathered in puddles along the walkway flanked by hordes of people. Some were on ward beds, some were on stretchers, and others were leaning against the wall moaning away as they held on to blood-soaked cloth patches against their head.

The officer asked an obviously irritated nurse regarding our staff, and she pointed him further down. There was a commotion as she was summoned, and my eyes followed her to another ward bed being wheeled down. A lady, covered in blood, was lying down moaning, followed by a throng of what must be relatives, as two paramedics quickly wheeled her to the waiting doctor and nurse.

The concept of privacy is much more ingrained among the Chinese now, compared to how it was then. And so it was, that a shocked Singaporean saw the doctor and nurse ripping apart her shirt, right in front of the gawking patients (and their relatives). As they start placing the drip and cleaning up her blood-soaked body, I could not help but notice that the woman did not even protest. Either this was normal and expected to her, or else she must have been too badly injured to put up any protests. And no, even her relatives did not protest.

We reached the end of the corridor, and I noticed that my security officers and PA Shen were there. I quickly checked out their condition, and were shocked to find out that only PA Shen was attended to (they had medicated her, so she looked somewhat "dyed" in certain places). PA Shen sheepishly told me that she only had enough money to treat herself, and the security officers did not have any money with them.

I was livid! China! The land where a life is worth only RMB100! Chinese hospitals do not treat anybody unless they are sure of payment, normally through an advance payment (and we are not enough talking about a deposit here, we are talking about advance payment!).

I searched my pockets, and realised I do not have money with me too. I turned to the junior officer, and requested he speak to the hospital staff to treat my staff. He called for a nurse he saw hanging around, and spoke to her. She cited hospital rules and refused to budge.

I coldly moved next to her, and told her, "Please speak to your supervisor, someone who can make a decision. I am their General Manager and my factory will pay you tomorrow."

I deliberately spoke in English, to emphasise my foreigner status. The poor woman just blinked, trying her best to comprehend what was obviously a language she did not do well in school. In those days, they started learning English only from middle school, and that was assuming a more prestigious school in a major city like Shanghai.

I looked to the police officer, and he instantly went along with my charade. Like many intelligent Chinese, he knew instantly when someone was putting on a show and needed co-actors. He told her that I was a foreigner, and whispered something to her. I believe I knew what he told her. He wanted her to make sure China did not lose face in front of a foreigner.

It was startling how the Chinese can go from being a stuck-up prude to an obliging service-oriented servant in the blink of an eye. She called on her staff nurse, who summoned a doctor, who summoned another doctor. Before I knew what had happened, a senior doctor, a staff nurse, another doctor and another nurse were attending with great seriousness to my security staff.

I thanked the junior officer in "accented" Chinese, and I could catch both PA Shen and him trying not to laugh. They knew I speak perfect Mandarin. He shook my hands, and told me he was happy to befriend a foreigner as well, and excused himself.

Thankfully, all my staff did not have serious injuries besides some swells and bruises. No broken bones. PA Shen asked for the bill, and it was presented to me by a doctor, who told me that "everything is okay, all no problem" in heavily accented English. I thanked him, and promised to settle the bill the next day. Unless a lot of face is involved, or the other party really trusts you, it is next to impossible to leave the hospital without having settled your bills. I suspect both scenarios were involved, for foreigners were generally considered trustworthy when it came to financial matters, in those days.

I took the last seat in the van, with PA Shen next to me. I told the security officers to take the next day off, to loud applause. They had done their job well, and I intend to give them a 委屈奖 "award for being humiliated" as well, though I did not announce it then. Best to announce it in front of all staff. It would be good for morale.

As the van moved off, the officers began to doze off one by one. Some were snoring. PA Shen did not sleep, but lay her head against me for comfort.

"Thank you, PA Shen. I will remember that you took these pains for me."

She blushed, and shook her head, snuggling herself even closer against me. I traced the outline of her shoulder and her collar with my finger, before moving down to her blouse. She knew what I wanted, and shifted herself as I began to unbutton the first few buttons of her blouse.

I really enjoyed the feel of her breasts. I was beginning to settle down into my role as General Manager, but today's incident would definitely travel to the ears of Mr Li. I prepare mentally within myself to explain to him. If he wanted me to leave because of this incident, I was prepared to.

PA Shen called for a general staff meeting the next day at the factory floor. My HR Manager took the stage, telling the staff of the "great disturbances" caused by an errant staff whom I have "punished greatly". She went on to declare how caring I was in paying for the medical bills, and how "honored" I was in the community, as the hospital billed the company HR instead of having them pay in cash (to great gasps). It was amazing how they look up to "those with connections", and more so if that person is a foreigner. Times have changed, of course, and such is no longer true in Shanghai today.

To great applause, I handed out the 委屈奖 and declared a day of rest for the security officers. I exhorted the staff to work even harder, and announced how I intend to give a bonus if our factory exceed our target. The last one was unannounced to the middle management, and I could notice the worried looks on the HR Manager's face as she heard that.

I had also given Mr Li a call early in the morning, and requested to see him in person at his office. I wished to make any apologies in person, and was willing to take the rap for any problems caused. My driver was waiting for me outside the company van when I finished with the ceremony, and quickly opened the door for me. He has learnt well, after being told off by me for sitting in his van while I struggled to open the unlubricated door of the van. He had since learnt to lubricate the sliding door regularly, and to open the door for me.

Mr Li's office was unusual for Chinese of his status, in those days - it was located in his villa. Most Chinese businessmen preferred (and still prefers) to take on a big building, whether by lease or outright purchase. They would take the highest and biggest office. And when I say big, we are talking about a personal office easily 200-400 square metres. Yes, one can fit a family into the Chairman's office in China.

Mr Li's villa itself was easily 400 square metres, so obviously his office, a room in the villa, was not that big. Nevertheless, it was a comfortable and cozy place to meet. The domestic servant (阿姨, "auntie") took me instead to the living room, where Mr Li was waiting for me, sipping on his wine. Mrs Li was nowhere to be seen.

Motioning me to take a seat, he took another glass and poured the wine. It was imported French wine. It would take a few more years before the Chinese red wine industry begin to take off, with their Changcheng series. Personally, I still think they suck compared to the real stuff from overseas. The Chinese are good only at their native baijiu.

I took a sip and explained to him what had happened from head to toe. I felt I had to be honest with him, even if it meant losing my job. I left out nothing, not even the part where Xiao Wang serviced me sexually on a regular basis in return for my keeping her on payroll, in a different job.

Mr Li had listened intently all along, and when I finished with yet another 对不起 (sorry), he motioned for me to stop.

"Xiao Chen (funny how adding a "little" in front of a surname can be a symbol of belittling, or a symbol of endearment), remember when I asked you back in California if you can handle women?"

My heart sank. He was going to find fault with me, and possibly dismiss me, just as I was getting comfortable with my job.

"It takes a lifetime of learning to handle women, so consider this a good lesson owned. A successful man has to be able to handle many women, whether as working partners or as sexual partners. No one will consider you successful here until you have managed to prove this. There is a reason why Yao married his two daughters to Shun."

Yao was a king during the legendary period of China, before the Xia dynasty. He married his two daughters to Shun to test out the man. Shun managed both women well, and Yao soon appointed Shun his successor in favor of his nine worthless sons.

"I believe you have a great future ahead of you, Xiao Chen. Like Yao, I have a worthless son, who only knows how to spend my money. Without a person managing my business when I go, he will eventually spend off the entire family fortune. I have no daughter to marry off to you, but I hope you will continue with me, for the sake of my son."

I was half-tearing when I heard that, for some unknown reason. I must have bought into the Chinese melodramatic way of life in my time here. I stood up and bowed to him, thanking him for giving me a chance and teaching me how to "be a real man". The old man stood up and held my hand, and I could see him tearing too, as he also thanked me for "sticking to him". None of his Taiwanese senior managers had ever stuck to him all these while, skipping town the moment trouble came, leaving it to him to pick up the pieces.

Another two domestic helper came in (Mr Li employed four, two of them really young and pretty), and Mr Li quickly got me to sit down. He quickly motioned for them to come by, and by now this Singaporean was no longer fazed by anything. These two girls simply knelt in front of both of us, seated just a few feet apart from each other, unzipped our pants and proceed to give a blowjob. The blowjob quickly transited to something better as they took off their clothes and started riding us.

Mr Li was less conscious than I was, and changed positions to pump the maid in missionary position on the nice big sofa. I preferred to remain seated and let her do the work. After Xiao Wang, though, I took no chances, and whispered into her if we might need condoms. She giggled and told me she was already a mother and so had an IUD in her. In those days, women who had given birth had a choice (paid by the state) of either being ligated or wearing an IUD. I am not sure if it is still the same today, but I do suspect it is still subsidized, even if the state no longer pays for these choices.

Satisfied that I would not have to deal with another Xiao Wang case, I shot into her. Mr Li took another 10 more minutes, changing into doggie position, before he came. The two women quickly took their leave as we dressed up, a panting Mr Li telling me how much he envied me for my youth. As an "old man", it was no longer a matter of whether he wanted sex, but whether his body could take it. We laughed together, and finished off the bottle of wine, before I left to return to the factory.

In China, a successful man has to learn to deal with women. Mrs Li definitely knew about the real reasons for the large number of maids, some of them only in their early 20s, but chose not to comment. Mr Li had learnt how to do it, and so became a successful man in China.

I had gone on my way to becoming a successful man as well.

Foreigners in China will tell everyone that even after a decade or two in China, one still learns something new every year. And so it was, a year later, that I would learn something that would forever change the way I handle entertainment in China.

As a foolish young man, I was naturally at the top of the world. The textile factory was making loads of money despite our American clients complaining of the cheaper products in Indonesia. Most of our clients had continued to work with us because they preferred to deal with the English-speaking General Manager who understood how customs worked in the States. “We are value for money, and you want goods that arrive on time, with the best quality, rather than the cheapest.” That had been the pitch I put up when the contract was due. We only lost one client whose HQ wanted us to lower our bid. That client would return to us in three months’ time, but I could no longer do any miracles for them.

I stopped getting more “Xiao Wang” and was very happy with PA Shen serving me all these while. I did notice her starting to drop hints that “she was not getting any younger” and that her parents wanted to match-make her when she next returns for the Spring Festival (Chinese New Year) holidays. I was not ready for further commitments, though I still remember what I told her previously on the journey back from the hospital. I must admit I found myself getting fond of her.

It was supposed to be another routine dinner, this time with the 民政局 Civil Administration Bureau, responsible for our licences to operate (and there were at least three of them to renew, handled by three different departments in the bureau – by now I can understand how China creates jobs). They were important people, and as such I took my middle managers with me – the Admin & HR Manager, the Chief Accountant and my Operations Manager. Only the Operations Manager was male. PA Shen came with me too, and we hosted a bunch of chiefs from the bureau for dinner.

As usual, lots of baijiu flowed freely during the dinner. We started teasing the female colleagues, and even got the Admin & HR Manager to do a 交杯酒 (a ceremony involving interlinked arms normally done by a couple on their wedding day) with a chief. It was unbelievable how much we drank, but I remembered passing out after possibly drinking a liter or more (2 bottles) of that disgusting stuff.

I woke up in a hotel room, with PA Shen next to me on my bed. The driver was also in the room, nodding off on his chair. I saw that the light was streaming in, and got up. I noted that both PA Shen and I were still dressed in what we wore last night, and with the driver around, were unlikely to have done anything more than sleep.

The driver woke up when he saw me me, and greeted me. I found out from him that every member of the delegation I led was drunk, with I being the first one out (anyone would, with rounds after rounds of ganbeis). I was puzzled. Why did the driver not send us back, even if we were dead drunk? Under probing, he told me that one of the chiefs had suggested we all sleep in the hotel, and had booked hotel rooms for all of us, even though the driver had protested. I did not like the sound of that, and alarm bells rang within me. I probed further, and the driver finally pointed out that the chief who booked the hotel rooms for us had escorted the Admin & HR Manager to her room.

With great dread, I woke PA Shen up. The driver had no idea of the room number but it was just two rooms away from us. It took a long time of ringing of the doorbell before the door opened to a woman wrapped only in a towel, her eyes puffed up and red. She had been crying. PA Shen immediately took over and I closed the door behind her as she went into the room to comfort the woman.

Half an hour later, the door opened again, and PA Shen motioned me over. She whispered into my ears, to tell me what had happened last night. I was very angry by now, what she said confirming my worst fears. I turned to my driver, telling him to get ready the van.

I had something important to do, someone important to meet. I dialed for the office of SUP Lin. I had promised someone to take him to Singapore for a visit one day. It was time to call on yet another favor.

The conversation was short. I preferred to speak face to face, rather than over the phone. As expected, SUP Lin told me he would drop everything he has to attend to my sudden and unexpected visit. I was really moody throughout the journey. As a superior, I felt responsible for my junior manager, that she had been raped by someone because I brought her with me for a drinking session. I made a vow at that moment, a vow I would keep for as long as I was in China, never to bring female colleagues to drink in future.

SUP Lin ushered me into his office and poured for me a cup of top grade longjing tea as he sat in the sofa next to mine. After nearly a year of drinking and eating together, he already knew I do not smoke and had stopped offering me cigarettes. Like most Chinese at his age, he was a chain smoker. I had inhaled so much second-hand smoke in my year there, unfiltered by anything, that I suspect I could also be considered as much of a smoker as he was.

He listened intently as I told him of how the cad had taken advantage of my manager, raising his eyebrows when he heard of who that person was. It was clear that I was angry. I might be someone who enjoys women, and who would not think twice of bedding anyone, but to rape a woman? That was a no-no in my vocabulary. More so when that woman is connected to me in any way, like my employee.

“陈弟Chen di (a term for “younger brother”), you foreigners are really so different from us Chinese.”

I was surprised to hear him say that, “How is that so, 林兄 Lin xiong (a term for “elder brother”)? Which boss will allow his employee to be raped by anyone?”

“Chen di, such things are really very shameful for many Chinese, and especially Chinese women. And if officials are involved, it gets tricky. Most bosses will pay money, or give the woman a promotion to a subsidiary, just to settle the case. After all, the woman was a willing party when she went drinking with her customers or officials. Nobody will take her side when she says she is raped.

“She will have to face a lot of shame and pressure, and possibly lose her job, if she were to report the rape and go through the legal process. Not only that, but this will attract a lot of negative publicity to the company, and no boss wants that publicity. This is why we Chinese will simply settle it out of court. No Chinese woman will refuse a large sum of money or a promotion over her sacrifice.”

I had become very good at reading between the lines. The Chinese tend to talk in circles, and only an old China hand could understand the art of reading into what was actually said. SUP Lin was suggesting that my Admin & HR Manager was putting on a show in front of me, that while the rape had been real, she was not really that traumatized by the event and wanted to extract something out of it.

“SUP Lin, can you arrange for Chief Yuan to meet up? I will need you to be the witness and facilitator. If we can resolve the matter without going through the courts, then let us handle it that way.”

SUP Lin was visibly relieved at hearing me say that.

“You are the first foreigner I know who understands us Chinese, Chen di. I have not acknowledged you wrongly as a brother. It must have been the fact that we are both 龙的传人 descendants of the Dragon. The last foreigner I dealt with gave me lots of problems when he insisted on doing things so-called democratically. Chief Yuan is the brother of my sister-in-law. I am sure he will be very willing to meet when I tell him of the severity of the matter.”

I had suspected as much. All government officials are somehow related to one another, even if the relationship goes through three or more degrees. No wonder it is all 官官相护, government officials will watch out for each other.

A phone call was made, SUP Lin speaking and yelling in Shanghainese to the other party. A visibly trembling Chief Yuan popped by the office two hours later. I had understood enough of the Shanghainese spoken, to know that SUP Lin had told Chief Yuan that he was in deep shit, and that he had been trying his damned best to hold the fort. If Chief Yuan refused to come and resolve the matter, SUP Lin might have no choice but to report the matter, as “a foreigner” was involved. Amazing how being a foreigner gives one a special status in China.

As expected, another Chinese opera began to play out in front of me. SUP Lin began to admonish him, telling him that his actions had made a foreigner very angry, that his brother-in-law (twice removed!) could not protect him, because I would simply bring it up to the Embassy (goodness, this man could really spin stories – I did not even think of that, the Singapore Embassy was quite useless when it came to helping out its own citizens in any legal issues).

Chief Yuan explained, tears flowing freely down his cheeks (part of the drama that I had simply seen too much in China), that he really liked the girl and had drunk too much and lost control. He hoped to be given a chance to make amends and was willing to do anything.

I had found out previously from SUP Lin, before Chief Yuan arrived, that this man, though in his early thirties, had yet to marry. It was something surprising in China, where men and women got married in their late teens if they lived in the villages, and early twenties if living in the cities. I was also aware that my Admin & HR Manager refused to marry anyone in her village, because she wanted to be a city dweller, to get the coveted city hukou.

The Chinese hukou system came about to restrict mobility of the Chinese. Mao had envisioned a system whereby clusters of villages support a town, and clusters of towns support a city. Unfortunately, everybody aspire to live in cities in those days, as it was considered an upward move, and so the hukou system was created to tie everybody to their villages, towns or cities. One has to jump over fiery hoops and across the mouths of angry tigers just to get a city hukou.

I had struck upon the most ridiculous way out of this mess, something I would never have suggested were I to be in Singapore or in California. I told Chief Yuan that I would speak to my Admin & HR Manager, to see if she would be willing to marry him, as a means to resolve the matter.

I had expected an argument, and perhaps a denial of responsibility. I mean, we are talking about marriage here! Instead, Chief Yuan’s face lit up and he suddenly stopped crying. The Chinese must have taps inside their eyes. He bowed down repeatedly before me, thanking me profusely for giving him the chance to marry such a beautiful woman. I warned him that I could only try, but if she was not willing to marry him, I would still press charges.

I left behind a smiling SUP Lin and Chief Yuan, as I headed towards the waiting van. It has been a most interesting adventure in China so far, with a culture so different from the one I grew up in, and the one I had wanted to adopt in my university years.

I had expected a 75% chance of my HR & Admin Manager agreeing to my proposal. With the wisdom I have today, I would have said that the chance is 95% (1 in 20 chance of a woman who does not fit the mold). The lure of a city hukou is very difficult to reject, for someone with a village hukou.

By then I had also become proficient at exaggerating and embellishing events, the way the Chinese like to do. I spoke of how Chief Yuan was a shy man who really liked her but did not know how to express it. I spoke of how highly regarded and eligible this bachelor was, both in Shanghai and in his family. I spoke of his family background, his family connections. I spoke of how responsible a man he was, that he would take the responsibility for his actions and marry her.

By the time I managed to turn her face red and get a nod from her, I felt like I was a 媒婆 matchmaker trying to get a couple to tie the knot. Indeed, a General Manager in China plays more roles than his professional one. I had been a family counselor and now a matchmaker. I would go on to play even more roles in future. It was something that would never ever happen in California.

The dinner was held just a month later, and I was invited to be the 证婚人 (witness). In China, a “witness” is normally an important person in the community. He is normally an official or a judge, or an elder in the village (who is normally also an official or a judge anyway), or else a learned man like a school principal. In my case, the couple was extremely happy to get a foreigner to be their witness. It was something unheard of in those days, but the fact that I was their matchmaker and also the bride’s boss added to the prestige the couple got when they had me as their witness. In China, face is really that important, that any means of adding to face is very, very appreciated.

I decided to add to the prestige of the event by speaking in English, and getting PA Shen to interpret. It was something very novel to the guests, and was the talk of relatives from both sides. I had no idea what really to say, so I tried to talk about how couples should behave, and made a pun of the Chinese word 做人 (literally “make a person”, figuratively “to be a good person” but the pun here is on “making babies”), to great laughter from the guests. I also did my best at this pronouncing of man and wife thing, from what I remembered of the only church wedding I have ever attended in my life.

Chinese wedding dinners are elaborate affairs, especially if the groom or bride’s family is well connected. Lots of food is wasted because the hosts want to show off that they could afford more food than could be eaten. The only thing that must absolutely be finished off is the alcohol, and the hosts always make sure they have enough to make sure nobody complains of the lack of alcohol.

I really hated the baijiu but found myself taking a lot of that stuff. The groom put on a big display of gratitude, telling those around him that he could never have married his dream woman were I not to have introduced both of them. Both fathers also grasped my hands and hugged me (only drunk men do that to strange men in China). In my mind I felt more like a pimp than a matchmaker, for I knew very well my introduction was more like a carnal one than anything else. It was a miracle that I did not let slip of anything that night, despite the liberal amount of that fiery stuff I took.

I was already drunk but I knew who was the woman who propped me up, together with the driver, to the van. I knew who was the woman who was with me when I threw up, not once, not twice, but so many times. I knew who was the woman who tried to make me comfortable, when I was feeling terrible in the van from the alcohol I had taken.

I was already drunk but in my subconscious I was very aware of the kiss she gave me to calm me down and make me feel better, when my breath reeked of alcohol and vomit. I was very aware of how she painstakingly removed my vomit-laden clothes and put me to bed. I was very aware of the naked body against me, of the warm inviting pussy that made me feel so good, so good, so good.

I did not think I managed to come (how one can possibly do so when so drunk is really beyond me), but I did remember holding PA Shen and telling her that I really liked her, and wanted her to be with me forever.

She stayed with me in my apartment that night.

All expatriates to China always warn newbies of one thing - never allow any single Chinese woman to capture your heart. You can play with them, always declaring up front it's all play, and have fun with them. Inevitably, though, some of us who are not so careful will allow feelings to creep in and eventually capture us. It is a powerful magic matched only by Filipino and Vietnamese girls in their home ground (or so some other expatriates claimed).

I was lucky in that I was just a young chap, with neither wife nor girlfriend, when I slowly began to feel for Shen Yan. I had called her by name when I woke up beside her that morning, looking at the angel sleeping next to me. Unlike the last few times, she did not wake up earlier than I and leave the apartment, to avoid talk. She was prepared to take the risk of being whispered about, were I not to accept her as someone special to me.

I stroked her hair and she woke up. My lips found hers again as our bodies wrapped themselves against each other again. With much of the alcohol already gone (absorption and clearance of alcohol follows an exponential pattern, believe it or not), I could truly feel the physical pleasure as I proceed to enjoy the body offered up before me.

"Shen Yan..." It was the first time I called her by name, instead of PA Shen.

She just gazed upon me, waiting for me to say the next words.

"做我的女人吧。Be my woman." The English could not capture adequately what the Chinese conveyed. Within these words in Chinese carry a pledge, a commitment and is the equivalent of "I love you" in Chinese. It is only those who are exposed more to western culture who use 我爱你, as "I love you" is really a weird phrase in Chinese.

She nodded and hugged me closer to her.

I am now a man with a woman attached to him.

The Cultural Revolution of the 70s wiped out a lot of things in China. It wiped out years of scientific progress, as top scientists were moved to the countryside to till the lands and be part of the 愤青 "passionate youths". Interestingly, even top agricultural scientists, who could have helped China with research into agricultural production, were also forced to do the same.

The Cultural Revolution also wiped out years of cultural progress, as teachers and lecturers were vilified (some committed suicide under the pressure) and forced to work at menial jobs like carrying manure. Schools and universities were closed as there were no teachers to teach nor students to study, the latter being too busy vilifying monks, priests and nuns.

The result of the Revolution was astounding, creating a generation without the same morality anchor of the previous generations. Sexuality, while still something spoken of in whispers, was no longer something sacred. The liberation of women from their "corrupted culture" meant keeping themselves a virgin till marriage was "feudal" and unacceptable. Money and materialism become the new gods, replacing Buddha or ancestors.

And so it was, that once I had accepted Shen Yan as "my woman", she moved in totally into my apartment, a move questioned by nobody in the company (as if they dared). It was also a signal to everybody else that I was "taken". I found it unbelievable, too, that I had somehow fallen in love with a Chinese woman. It was wonderful having a warm naked body with me every night as the autumn months began to fade and winter set in.

I could not wait for that Sunday, when the factory had its off-day. I could not wait for the boring speech to be over, and I tend to make short speeches. I could not wait for the workers to quickly board their buses and leave, so that I could finally get Shen Yan to board the van with me to the city. I knew where I wanted to go, and had called in Wen shifu the driver to discuss with him when Shen Yan was not around.

Wen shifu was a good driver, and knew his way around the city. He drove us straight to the best and most renown jeweler in Shanghai - Qitianbao. I took her hand, and took her into the huge superstore full of all types of jewelry.

Obviously men knew nothing of jewelry and I was no exception. I simply told the sales staff (an old but sophisticated-looking auntie who had zoomed in on us the moment I entered, in contrast to the younger women standing around chit-chatting among themselves) that I wanted to buy a necklace for my woman. I found out later that she was the store manager, and her keen eye had identified me immediately as an overseas Chinese. Apparently, lots of overseas Chinese would pop by her store when they visit Shanghai.

The two women talked among themselves in Mandarin. The store manager was very sharp, and knew immediately too that my companion was not Shanghainese. In China, the talents surfaced so quickly, and are paid well, precisely because they are so different from the common labourers. She asked me discreetly in Cantonese (she picked up Cantonese to communicate with her HK customers) what my budget was, and her eyes lit up when I told her.

A beautiful gold necklace with a ruby and jade-studded pendant finally adorned the lovely neck of Shen Yan. She was beaming away, and even more so when she saw that I had paid RMB12,000 for it. RMB12,000 is not a lot of money in today's China, but back in those days when an experienced department manager earned about RMB1200, RMB12,000 was a lot of money. To Shen Yan, her man had given her plenty of face by paying publicly such a large amount of money for something she wore publicly. Her friends and relatives would definitely ask her how much I paid for it, and she could proudly tell them the amount, and where I had bought that for.

I had blown about month of my salary but I was very happy about it. Li zong had given me a good bonus recently, and also promised me both a raise and a gift when I called him to tell him about my falling in love. This man also had become more like a father to me, teaching me about business practices whenever I visited him. I had lapped up all those stories and learnt from them. As usual, whenever I commented how much I had learnt from him, he would lament how his useless son was never interested to learn.

It was on the journey back, as the light of day dimmed, with Shen Yan lying on my shoulder, that the question was broached.

"Would you like to visit my parents during the Spring Festival?"

Li zong had already told me what that meant, and what it portend. I was prepared for it.

"Yes, let us make a trip down there. Would you also like to visit my parents in Singapore after we visit your hometown?"

She was beaming away, and happily nodded. My lips found hers, and we exchanged a lovely kiss while inside the van. As usual, the top two buttons of her blouse was undone, but I wanted a better access and view, and took off another one. My hand slipped behind her, to unhook her bra, eliciting a gasp from her. I held on to the kiss, refusing to let her break away from me, as I moved her bra up and fondled her breasts.

If Wen shifu had seen anything, he was wise enough not to indicate so. From the corner of my eyes, I noted that he was concentrating on the road, not even looking into the rearview mirror. No wonder he was the driver for the General Manager. Talents in China truly surface out quickly and make their mark. A good driver is not just skillful but discreet as well.

By the time I was happy enough to break away the kiss, a red-faced Shen Yan had to quickly adjust her bra, hooking it up again through the blouse (she struggled a little with it - it must have been quick difficult), and then buttoning her last button before playfully striking my thighs.

She glanced up at the driver again, before she unzipped my pants, removed the throbbing member, and placed her mouth over it. I was in heaven again, like the many times before.

I love China!

0 notes