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Raquel Morenza knew it wasn't easy to be a dictator, or any head of state for that matter. She'd never been one, but she had sympathy. The little Mouse-girl figured it went without saying that if you were the big cheese, everyone was always looking at you. When you were in the limelight like that, you never had a chance to do what you wanted, even in private. She also thought you'd constantly be wondering how the people who came after would remember you. For a dictator, there was really only two choices; a great, inspiring leader who unified the country, like Napoleon, or an oppressive monster who shouldn't be spoken of, like Stalin.

But, as much as she speculated, she knew from personal experience that it was a busy and dangerous life. Between public speeches, conferences, meetings, assassination attempts, and in general acting like a dignified man, there was often little time for the man to be himself. She knew because she was the secretary for Generalissimo and President Nicola Georgiano Guerra, the eternal ruler of the small country of Sómessia. To his people, he was affectionately known as "Tío Nico" (Uncle Nico).

It was early in the morning, and Raquel was at her desk in the presidential house, at work typing up some official documents to deliver to the Generalissimo. She paused when she noticed a blinking light on the telephone - It meant the generalissimo had need of her. She picked up the phone immediately.

"Yes, your excellency?"

"What's the schedule for today, Raquel?" The Generalissimo asked, seeming to be in a good mood.

Raquel changed to a different tab on the computer and looked at the calender application. "Well, your excellency, you have a cabinet meeting at ten today, then lunch and golf with the American ambassador, and the dinner at the-"

"-Yes, the Norinca Hotel, I remember." Nicola said. "Have you prepared those reports that were delivered last night?"

"Yes your excellency, they're all unboxed and organized." She answered eagerly.

"Good. Could you bring them up to me? I'd like to have a look myself."

"Of course, your excellency." Raquel said.

Raquel then got up and went downstairs to the basement of the presidential house. She went to one of the many safes in the storage room, and after placing her finger on its print scanner, it opened, allowing her to grab two portfolios, both of which were stamped "CLASSIFIED," and a manila envelope that was similarly marked. The Mouse went back up, and made her way into the lavish, expensively decorated southern wing of the palace-like house. This was the part of the house where the President and his wife could be found, along with servants, bodyguards, and the occasional high-ranking official.

The first lady was actually not in the house at the moment, she had for three days been off promoting some charitable cause in the Generalissimo's stead. Raquel disliked the First lady immensely. She traipsed about with her nose high in the air, as if she expected everyone to bow down on one knee in her presence. But Raquel felt that the First Lady didn't know how hard her husband worked, and didn't realize how lucky she was to share a bed with such an inspiring man. If she did, she would act much more humble. But unlike her, Raquel appreciated the man who she knew single-handedly brought her country into the modern world, and who had vanquished the communist traitors with one fell swoop.

With a slight nervous shaking, Raquel found herself again at the door to the Presidents office. The black-suited lupine bodyguard recognized her and opened the door for her, then closed it afterwards.

Guerra looked up from a paper on his desk as his secretary entered, and smiled invitingly. Nicola Guerra was a beautifully groomed, but visibly aging German Shepard, and at this time in the morning, was dressed in black slacks with a plain white dress shirt, both impeccably clean and neatly ironed. A cup of black coffee was on his desk, still very warm.

"Here are the reports you requested, your excellency." Raquel said, an excited quiver in her voice as she set down the stack of papers. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Guerra looked down for a moment to think. "Well, yes actually." He replied.

"Yes, your excellency?" Raquel chirped.

"I know that haven't been working here for that long, but I thought perhaps you'd like to sit down and have some coffee with me." Guerra said, motioning to his cup of his coffee.

"Wh-why, Yes, of course, I would." She breathed excitedly, almost forgetting; "Your excellency."

"You don't need to call me that in here." Guerra chuckled, as he got up from his broad desk and paced to the coffee machine that was on the other side of his office. He filled a mug for Raquel, and returned to the desk. He motioned to one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Please, sit down."

Raquel eagerly took the chair right in front of the desk, and Guerra slid the cup of coffee across to her.

"Now, how do you, as a working person, think the government is doing?" Guerra asked, before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Excellent, excellent!" The mouse said, repeating the sentiment of every sensible Sómessian.

There was a pause, as Guerra smiled warmly. "I'm glad to hear it." He eventually said. "I have to ask, because I feel I can never truly judge myself."

Raquel added this idea to her mental list of reasons why being the premier was hard.

"And with my wife away, I've felt deprived of company..." He muttered. He then stood up, turning around to look out the office's large windows.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Raquel leaned towards him compassionately. "Is there anything I might do to help?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Guerra trailed off, a hint of a smile on his face as he looked at Raquel in the corner of his eye.

"I think I know what you need." Raquel said coyly, popping the collar button of her business suit. The idea of taking the place of her idol's wife, even for a moment, drove her wild.

Guerra raised an eyebrow, but didn't object. He walked slowly around the desk to his secretary, and she stood up in response, three of the buttons on her shirt now undone. Her scent went deep in the dog's nose, causing him to groan in appreciation.

"And I think you're psychic." Guerra cooed, as he placed his hands on her and slid the shirt down off her shoulders, revealing a white bra that covered her ample breasts. "Just what I look for in a secretary."

As her bra was unclasped, Raquel tilted her head back, sighing luxuriously. The white garment fell to the floor, as did her shirt. The Generalissimo leaned down, cupping her breasts in his hands, and kissed one of them lustfully, his tongue tracing circles around her erect nipples. Meanwhile, his left arm found its way into her pants. One finger went into her underwear and caressed the damp lips it felt there.

The mouse groaned in pleasure, throwing her head back as another finger found its way inside her now-damp panties.

Guerra left her breast alone and brought his muzzle up to hers, allowing for a sloppy kiss interrupted occasionally by a jolt and a moan. By the time he had tired of this, he was pumping several of his fingers in and out of her pussy, and was trying to use his thumb to stimulate her clitoris.

Abruptly, he grabbed Raquel, one hand taking her ass, the other getting hold of her shoulder. He pushed her down onto her back, on the desk, knocking one of the coffee cups over and spilling the liquid over the documents. He roughly pulled off her pants, then her wet underwear, and then set to work removing his own clothes. Overcome with lust, he simply tore the front of his pants open when the zipper turned out to be too much trouble. His cock was engorged and well out of its sheath, and without hesitation he inserted it into the nether regions of his secretary.

"Ahhh..." He sighed in satisfaction, as he felt wet, slippery, heat embrace his member. He then began to thrust back and forth with his hips, slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed. He put one hand on her crotch as if to steady himself, then began to brush one of the fingers over her clit again.

"Oh... yes..." Raquel moaned and bucked in response, even as she slid back and forth slightly with each thrust on the polished wooden desk.

Guerra felt his knot growing as he neared his climax, but he paid it little mind. He breathed rapidly, and fingered Raquel's clit again, but with more force. Raquel cried out as she too neared her orgasm. It only took a few seconds more for her to spurt, and Guerra felt the pressure on his cock increase. At that point he gave in, letting himself shoot out pulse after pulse of his seed into the young mouse, as his knot locked them together. He let out another exhilarated and satisfied sigh, his desires very much satisfied.

"That was wonderful." He purred, bending over to kiss his newfound lover. "My wife is so stiff sometimes, I've been wanting to do that for weeks, and now, she's not even here."

Raquel was still a bit short of breath. "It was... my pleasure... your excellency." She managed to gasp out between breaths. "But... don't you have a meeting soon?"

President Guerra then remembered the meeting he had scheduled for 10:00 that morning. He looked up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was 9:43.

"Well, I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon again." Guerra whispered. "Now, I'd better-" He stopped as he tried to pull out of her, but found that his knot still held them firmly together, and he realized it wasn't going anywhere soon.

"Oh fuck."