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Presidente's Privilege	By : WotanAnubis Category: +S through Z > Tropico (series) > Tropico (series) Views: 3893 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-Presidente's Privilege
- 1
TITLE: Presidente's Privilege

AUTHOR: WotanAnubis

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Tropico 5 or any of its characters. No profit is being made.

NOTE: Written simply because I haven't written anything in a while and it was starting to annoy me.

* * * * *

Isabella Karnstein, the Hispanic Governor of the British colony of Tropico, stared at her governor's uniform with mute resentment. Even though she was technically a subject of the British Empire she'd never been in England, but she still knew two things about the place: that it was always cold and that it was always wet.
The governor's uniform had clearly been designed by Englishmen - it was thick and stuffy and probably perfect for the dreary climate of England. However, this was Tropico. Dry, sunny, warm Tropico, paradise on Earth. Here, the uniform was hot and sweaty and Governor Isabella hated it.
Therefore, she decided, she wasn't going to wear it any more. The Crown might complain about how its Governors had to uphold the dignity appropriate of the British Empire, but the Crown never had to manage the affairs of an entire island while drenched in sweat.
Feeling better already, Governor Isabella strode towards her sizeable wardrobe, flung it open and was quickly reminded of the flaw in her plan. All her clothes were, in one way or another, designed for a British Governor. They were all overheated dehydration waiting to happen.
A regular person - that is, one who did not have any power - might, at this point, rethink their hasty decision, but Isabella had not become Governor by ever admitting that she could possibly have been wrong about anything.
So, since she had decided that she would no longer wear any English clothes and since her entire wardrobe consisted of English clothes, the only sensible thing to do now was to forego clothes entirely.
This did mean that she would have to go about her business naked, but this didn't bother Isabella overmuch. It wasn't as though she was still some insecure adolescent wrestling with body issues. And if anyone said anything, well, so what? She was Governor, they were not. She had the power, they did not. And if anyone did or tried anything that would displease her she could have them deported or killed without a fuss.
After all, the Crown barely cared about her and didn't care about those below her.
- - - - - -
Some hours later, Governor Isabella sat behind her mahogany desk in her spacious office, casually going over some papers and feeling quietly pleased with herself. The palace guards had stared at her, of course, as had the clerks, but nobody had dared say anything. Or perhaps they simply had not been able to even find the words. It wasn't as if they had expected a naked woman striding past them with iron confidence. Especially not a naked woman like Governor Isabella.
It was lovely day, warm and sunny as always, and Isabella enjoyed the mild tropical breeze whispering past her naked body. It could only have been more enjoyable and relaxing if she didn't have to double-check Penultimo's figures every few hours.
The doors were flung open and Governor Isabella could tell it was Evita Vasquez without looking up. After all, she was the only one who always entered her office without knocking.
"Governor, there are some matters I... wish... to... erm..."
Smiling beautifully, Governor Isabella put down her papers, incidentally fully revealing her bare breasts to Evita. It was a joy to see her loyal advisor stare at her naked body so openly and with a look of flustered incomprehension. The woman burned with an inner fire so powerful it continually amazed Governor Isabella she hadn't been consumed by it yet. Her eyes, too, always gleamed with fanatic idealism, fixed on some future utopia only she could see.
Now... now Evita just stared at her, deflated, her zeal, for the moment, dampened.
But not for a very long moment. The gleam returned to her eyes.
"Good," said Evita. "I'm glad to see you share my distaste for royalist pomp."
"I suppose," said Isabella, thoughtfully raising her hand to her chin, slowly caressing one of her breasts along the way. "But really, I only got rid of the uniform because it was far too hot."
"Uhm, yes," said Evita, whose eyes, Isabella was pleased to see, had once again flashed down to look at her exposed breasts. "But that only proves my point, does it not? The King doesn't care about Tropico, nor does he understand it. Nor does he care to understand it. The only way for the Tropican people to thrive is by releasing us from his shackles."
"I quite agree," said Isabella, deciding not mention how she'd quite like to see the Tropican people in her shackles instead. Metaphorically, of course. "Anyway, there was something you wanted to discuss with me?"
"Right, of course," said Evita. "I feel that the new library..."
Evita faltered again when Governor Isabella rose from her seat and walked around her desk. The guards and clerks had seen her because she couldn't be bothered avoiding them, but she wanted Evita to see her. All of her. Her delicate hands, her slender legs, her sizeable breasts...
Her cock.
Governor Isabella stood in front of her desk, her hermaphroditic body in full view of Evita's disbelieving eyes. She radiated confidence, but found her inner resolve being not quite as strong as she would've liked. Part of being a successful ruler was a complete disregard for other's opinions, because other people were always wrong, unless they agreed with her, in which case they were right.
But some part of Isabella actually cared about Evita's opinion. It was awkward, worrying and annoying, but there it was. There was something about the strength and purity of the woman's convictions that was strangely attractive. And of course her body was attractive as well.
As it turned out, she needn't have worried.
"Truly, you are the woma- the person to lead us," Evita breathed.
Governor Isabella blinked. That wasn't quite the reaction she'd been expecting.
"How so?"
"Is it not obvious?" Evita asked. "You are male and female. Mother and Father. Within you, all Tropicans are represented."
Now it was Isabella's turn to stare. She'd considered her body awkward and embarrassing in youth, peculiar in adulthood. She'd never thought it could be symbolic.
But Evita wasn't done surprising her yet. The revolutionary stepped forward slowly, her hand reaching out towards her naked body, then stopped.
"May I?" she asked, her meaning clear in her eyes.
Isabella felt her stiffening dick twitch happily as more blood rushed down towards her loins. She tried to ignore arousal, because she found it was a bad idea to make decisions based on how hard her dick was or how wet her pussy was.
Even so, this was Evita. And she couldn't help but wonder if she could pour all that fiery enthusiasm she had for the revolution into sex.
Governor Isabella leaned back against her desk and placed her feet further apart.
"Please."
Evita stepped forward and kneeled before the Governor, making her dick swell just that little bit more. Isabella looked down at her advisor, but she for her part only seemed to have eyes for her genitals.
Governor Isabella's breath became thick as Evita caressed her cock and let her fingers trail down her shaft and then across her moist folds. The revolutionary only seemed to wonder at the hard and soft warmth underneath her fingertips, but for Isabella the careful touch filled her with aroused heat. The strength of her response, the way her cock went from not exactly flaccid to fully erect within moments, would have been embarrasing if it hadn't been so pleasant.
"I envy you, you know," said Evita dreamily, her hands gliding from pussy to penis and back. "Now that I know it's possible, I wish I had been born so."
"Well, who knows," Governor Karnstein said vaguely.
Evita wrapped her fingers around Isabella's now hard, thick member and looked up with a grin on her face. "I assume you have no objections to me continuing."
"None whatsoever," Isabella replied.
Smiling, still looking up, Evita began moving her hand up and down the Governor's shaft, making her gasp with arousal. The revolutionary gazed at her, her eyes dark and inscrutable, seemingly unaware of the gentle stroking of her own hand, fixed solely on the lust becoming ever more clear on Isabella's face.
Isabella, for her part, barely saw Evita's face. All of her senses seemed to focus on her cock, on how painfully hard it was getting, on how surprisingly soft Evita's skin was, on how every little movement of her wrist caused pleasure to course through every inch of her body. She was barely even aware that her breathing had become panting or that her arms were trembling. She'd never had sex before, first she'd been far too awkward and ashamed, then she'd been concerned only with acquiring power. Now the delicate, gentle stroking of her cock threatened to overwhelm her.
Part of her resisted. Underneath the warm waves of lust and pleasure there remained the iron core of her ambition. She was destined to rule, to be in control. She would not be ruled, not be controlled. Not even by Evita, with her gleaming, devoted eyes and stimulating hands.
Governor Isabella moaned with pleasure when Evita finally stopped watching her and kissed her pussy. Without taking her hand off her cock, without even pausing her stroking, the advisor's lips brushed against the Governor's moist heat, the tip of her tongue flicking across that sensitive flesh.
While Isabella, moaning and trembling, struggled with the dictator in her soul, Evita had no such qualms. She was devoted to the wellbeing of others without any thought for herself, caring only about the base necessities of survival simply because she couldn't help anyone if she were dead. She carried that dedication with her even now, concerned only with pleasuring the Governor as best she could. It was true the feeling of her thick shaft and the taste of her ever-wetter pussy were arousing, but that gentle warmth was nothing compared to the fiery drive to serve others and make their lives better.
All of this was lost on Isabella, adrift in an unfamiliar sea of pleasure. Moans spilled continuously from her lips, her legs shook as though her strength was failing and a heat fiercer than that of the Tropican sun blazed through her body, fueled by Evita's fingers around her manhood and her tongue within her womanhood. It was all too much and yet it was not enough. She could not sense a potential orgasm, could not see a potential end. The dictator within her soul forbade it - would not allow her to surrender fully to her pleasure.
But part of being a successful ruler was the occasional ability to compromise, if there really was no other choice.
"Wait..." Governor Isabella panted between. "Stop."
Evita did so, instantly. She looked up and part of Isabella snarled at her for the loss of the revolutionary's lips kissing and licking her slit.
"Have I... done something wrong?" the advisor asked. "By the sound of it you were enjoying yourself."
"Oh, I was. I am," said Isabella. "But it would be unfair if I were the only one enjoying myself, wouldn't it?"
"No...?" Evita said, clearly confused.
"I mean, it would be better to share the pleasure, don't you think?"
"Oh, I see," Evita said. "Well, I suppose I would not say no to that."
Evita rose to her feet while Isabella inwardly lamented the loss of the woman's hand around her cock while outwardly remaining as composed as she could be, which wasn't much. She was blushing heavily, her hard shaft spasmed with yearning, her chest heaved as she struggled to control her panting and she imagined she felt fluids from her pussy slowly trickle down the inside of her thighs.
Evita easily stripped out of her green uniform and heavy combat boots, but didn't bother taking off her beret. She hadn't worn a bra, because they were rare and expensive on Tropico, and her panties had been plain and functional. Stripped naked revealed a body that was fit, because one needed to be in good health in order to fight against the imperialist oppressors, but had, perhaps, missed a couple of meals here and there. She wasn't exactly skinny, but neither did she really have anything in the way of curves. Even her breasts were small and pert; cute rather than sexy.
And yet... there was that fire. Evita should have looked frail and delicate, yet somehow the mind only saw strength and resolve. And that, Governor Isabella had to admit, was incredibly attractive.
Isabella moved boldly, lifting Evita off her feet. The revolutionary squealed with delight, her laughter easily lifting the Governor's own spirits. Isabella turned quickly and draped Evita all over her wooden desk, sending a lot paperwork flying into every corner of the room and some out the windows. But it had all been paperwork submitted by Penultimo, so that was alright.
Evita, legs dangling down the side of the desk, grinned as she allowed the Governor to move her naked body into position so that when Isabella moved between her knees she would be able to penetrate her quite easily. The Governor gripped her rigid shaft, fully intending to guide it into the waiting woman, and hesitated.
Because it would come back. All the lust, all the pleasure. All her senses would again be flooded, her body overwhelmed with feeling once more. And this time she really would lose control over herself.
Was that really worth it? To lose all that power she'd so confidently projected to people all these years? Just for an orgasm? Just for Evita?
No, Governor Karnstein told herself. It wasn't worth it. Not just for an orgasm.
Isabella moved forward, the tip of her cock brushing against Evita's soft flesh. The revolutionary sighed happily and Isabella herself could not stop an aroused grunt from escaping her lips. A shiver of arousal ran up her spine when she carefully moved her purple head across Evita's folds, acutely aware of the way it felt against her dick and promising so much more pleasure if only she pushed just that little bit further.
Instead, Isabella moved her member up Evita's slit, so that the hard shaft rubbed against her advisor's clit. Evita tensed up, gasping for breath. Then she moaned and laughed when Isabella used her cock to draw thick circles around and across it. Soon the revolutionary was panting as the air in her lungs thickened with growing pleasure, yet she stopped her moaning laughter. Her tongue licked lips that were suddenly dry even though they were still glistening with Isabella's arousal, her hips moving so that she caressed Isabella's cock with her pussy even as Isabella caressed her pussy with her cock. Then she looked at her with large, dark, irresistible eyes.
"Do it, my Governor," she panted. "Take me."
Isabella found herself unable, unwilling, to ignore Evita's lustful plea and slowly pushed into the woman. Inch by agonising inch, she felt her cock becoming enveloped by the revolutionary's tight pussy. Part of her wondered if it would've been better if she'd simply thrust into the woman all at once instead of this long, slow, pleasurable crawl between those squeezing inner walls.
Evita answered that question. When her member had disappeared ino the revolutionary's heat, Governor Isabella suddenly found the woman's surprisingly powerful legs wrapped around her waist, forcibly pushing her in all the way. She gasped with the sudden jolt of pleasure, only made sweeter by Evita's lustful groaning.
"Not very patient, are you?" Isabella said with trembling voice and fragile smile.
"You were going so slow it was driving me crazy. I need you to fuck me."
Isabella grinned, surprised at the effect Evita's supposed 'need' had on her. Her qualms slowly melting one by one, the Governor began fucking the revolutionary as requested, pulling back far, but not out and then thrusting as deeply into her as she could manage. Evita kept her legs wrapped around her waist, but made no effort to direct her movement. Sprawled out naked on the wooden desk, hands holding on to the edges, the loyal advisor groaned with pleasure at every thrust, happily giving herself over to every little sensation Isabella gave.
Governor Karnstein, for her part, could not let go so easily. Even as she fucked Evita, felt her heat tight around her cock, saw the shivering of her pleasured body, had her ears filled with sound of joyful moaning, part of her fought against her own pleasure. She took some depraved delight in watching Evita losing herself in her lust, but she could not allow herself to follow. Even though Evita was not in control, even though she was fucking her, she could not bring herself to surrender to her own body.
Evita faced her, panting and moaning, her eyes so dark with lust it seemed impossible that she could see anything. Yet she must have seen something because before Governor Isabella could react, the revolutionary had her hand on the back of her neck and pulled her down into a kiss.
Time seemed to stop in that moment where their lips met and the full length of her cock thrust into her. Evita's lips were chapped and her kiss was frantic, animal, full of the inner fire that never stopped burning.
"I am your servant, my Governor," she whispered. "My body is yours to use."
The words cut through all of Isabella's defences. She returned Evita's kiss with all the passion she could muster, their tongues performing a lewd dance between their lips. She resumed thrusting as well, not thinking about pace or rhythm, but simply fucking the woman on her desk as hard as she could, thrusting into her over and over, briefly breaking their wild kissing every time the revolutionary's body shook.
Having finally cut loose, all that built-up pleasure she'd tried to mute or push away broke free, given wings by Evita's pussy sliding rapidly up and down her thick manhood. What had been a few pleasantly glowing embers exploded into a blaze of lust, consuming her proud body.
Kissing, panting, moaning, fucking, Isabella lost sight of where her body ended and Evita's began and no longer cared. Pleasure roared through her, through them both, unrestrained and uncontrolled.
Overwhelmed with pleasure though she was, Isabella slowly became aware of something - a small, iron knot at the base of her shaft, poised to explode and fill Evita with her seed. Some small voice at the back of her head wondered if perhaps she should pull out and not risk-
Evita screamed with pleasure, her slender legs once again becoming a vice around Isabella's hips and pushing her deeply into her, her naked body shaking as she orgasmed, her pussy squeezing tightly. Isabella gasped, half-surprised, when she joined her advisor in climax, her body soaring with bliss, her throbbing shaft delivering load upon load of her semen into the revolutionary's womb.
The feeling of Isabella coming inside of her only seemed to intensify Evita's orgasm. She squealed with decadent bliss, her body undulating as though determined to milk yet more of the Governor's seed. The sudden extra stimulation shuddered through Isabella's body and through her climaxing cock, filling her even more. Which, in turn, made Evita come that much harder.
Eventually, however, they both were spent, tired and panting, Governor Isabella lying on top of Evita, her softening cock still within in. Evita kissed her again, gently this time, in wordless appreciation.
Isabella took a deep breath and, wincing a little, stood up and pulled out of Evita. Her semen dribblied out from between the woman's folds as she did so and she couldn't help but wonder just how much she had come.
Pulling herself together as best she could, the Governor of Tropico returned to her seat behind her desk, took a cigar out of a drawer and lit up with satisfaction. Evita made a face at the smoke, clambered off the desk and started putting her discared fatigues back on.
"I think, perhaps, we should be a bit more careful next time," Isabella said.
"How so?"
"You might get pregnant. If we do this more often, you will get pregnant."
Evita gave her a strange look. "You are physically perfect," she said. "Male and female. I would love to have children such as you. The world would be a better place if everyone was like you."
Isabella took a drag of her cigar instead of replying. She was willing to believe tomorrow could be better than today, but there were definite limits to her idealism.
"Did you mean what you said?" she asked instead. "About being my servant? About your body being mine?"
"I do not believe people should live for themselves. I believe everyone should work to make other people's lives better," Evita said.
"That's not an answer to my question," Isabella said.
"It's the only one you'll get," Evita said. Then she smiled. "For now."
- 1
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Presidente's Privilege