Stress relief.

It was very brief, and very hushed, but Djal's instructions were clear enough. Get her to cum, and her defenses will be lowered enough for you to get your claws into her. As you let your eyes wander around in the Prime Minister's office, resisting the urge to go through the mountain of paper on her desk, you ponder on how in the world you're going to get her to reach climax.

The doors open and Prime Minister Nika walks in, a deep frown on her face, which grows even deeper when she sees you standing in the middle of her office. "Who are you?" she screeches, "and how did you get in here?"

Praying that you have enough in your vocabulary to speak properly, you say back to her. "I'm your new aide-de-camp, Prime Minister. I'm starting today. Your assistant let me in."

She studies you intensely, her small eyes almost disappearing under her eyebrows. "If you're my new aide," she says slowly, "then help me get out of this coat. And a cup of tea. Milk, no sugar." Snapping to attention, you do as she asks, and with a heavy sigh, she sits down at her desk. Stirring it, you set her tea down in front of her. "Where are you from? I can't place your accent."

"Trewlou. A modest growing city near the border, Prime Minister," you lie, rifling through likely locations in your mind. "About an hour's drive away from the University of Agricultural Sciences."

She is silent for a long time, her eyes closed shut before nodding. "Yes, yes, I remember that constituency. We lost a couple of seats there." With literally nothing to add, you just shrug. She takes a sip of her drink, glances over to the stacks of government stamped boxes behind her, and exhales slowly. Shaking her head, she rolls her shoulder, instructs you to grab the nearest one and to take a seat.

The sheer sight and thought of going through all those boxes, in addition to catching shit for skipping your own job, makes you blanch. Which gives you an idea.