New Corporate Takeover Chapter Two

Still no title, but work continues! As always, this is a warts and all first draft, but I hope you enjoy it!

To be inside the home shared by Raquel Benson, her companion, Diane, and a number of mindless drones was to be in a sort of perverse Willy Wonka factory. Instead of orange-faced little people singing moral verses, there were the latex-clad and hooded drones that moved around the first floor, where the building had been carved up into four rooms meant for Benson’s conversion program. An office with glass windows on one side looked down into the belly of the building, where Benson could observe. The desk inside, and the walls lined with books,s aid that this was as much office space as observationd eck, and Benson spent long hours in the room perfecting theory into practice. 

Diane was out, and her warmer presence made Anie feel more at ease when she met with Benson. Despite Raquel Benson’s vast intelligence and cool beauty, there was a constant hum of awareness that Benson could not disguise. Her agile mind moved fast and her slate gray eyes appeared to see more than Annie ever would. 

Sitting across from her, Annie’s legs neatly crossed as she awaited Benson’s focus to turn back to her, Annie felt a bead of sweat roll down the small of her back. She looked out the window where the shapely latex drones moved about their silent business. Maybe Benson wouldn’t wipe her memories and let her go if she posed a threat to Benson’s work. She might be encased in rubber and made to serve in a different way. 

“This is excellent,” Benson said,s haking her head at the tablet lighting her face. “You have won the trust of Greta Daniels?”

“Seems like.”

“Annie, you are remarkable.” Benson rose and paced while Annie flushed with pride. Such was Benson’s power. She illicited a vague fear, but she possessed kindness and the capacity for real empathy. That dichotomy made her especially dangerous. “Have you met Seiver yet?”

“No, but Greta says he makes his way down to her dressing room on occasion. I should find him there.”

“Good. Just observe for now. We’ll make our move once we have a location. I understand the pressure you are under, Annie. If I can help…”

“You’re helping enough. What we’re doing could change the world.”

“That’s the plan,” Benson smiled, and Annie thought she saw warmth in it, and still she shivered.

“What about this?” Diane held a red dress flat against her body. It was plain, with clean lines that flattered without drawing attention.

“No,” Annie said with a wave of her hand. “She doesn’t like red. The nighttime girls tend to wear red and she likes to be different.”

“She sounds like a firecracker,” Diane laughed, returning the dress to its place on the rack. 

“She is. Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Of course. You don’t really have to twist my arm to shop.”

Annie couldn’t help but admire Diane. Not only because she was sweet and generous, and had grown to be a big sister of sorts for Annie. Also, Diane represented what was possible. While it was rarely discussed, Diane was one of Benson’s first creations, and what she created was a perfect partner for herself. 

Diane was elegant and beautiful, with full breasts and nice, inviting hips. Her long hair was sunny blonde, and she could have been the model of a woman growing gracefully into middle age while still retaining a playful sexuality. The face that she was still male beneath her panties was unthinkable and somehow tantalizing for Annie. Diane was taller, and having the larger woman on top of her, plunging into her… It was a fantasy she entertained more than once when they spent time together. Given Diane’s devotion to Benson, it was unthinkable to suggest feelings for Diane, so Annie ignored such thoughts when they came. 

Today, Diane chose a retro outfit with Capri pants that showed off her lovely backside and a light white top with blue polka dots tied saucily under her breasts. With corked sandals to go along, she might have been preparing for a ride in a convertible to the beach.

“I hope she’s alright after all this,” Annie said, sliding a selection of dresses aside on the racks with a metal scrape. 

“Greta?” Diane asked. “You admire her.”

“I do. Not her politics, obviously, but she’s tough. She doesn’t live by anyone else’s rules.”

“Sounds like we’d get along just fine,” Diane said. “She might even like Raquel.”

“I don’t know about that. Greta still believes a man rules his home. I think that’s why she likes Seiver. He’s the big paternal figure around SNN. Everyone seems so desperate to please him.”

“The fact that he is so influential is exactly why we need him.”

“Somebody like that, you really think he can be broken?”

“I think we try. He’s got a big megaphone. We can change a lot of minds.” Diane wrinkled her nose at another dress before dismissing it. “What about this one?”

She held up a cream dress with very subtle blue accent. It was simple, but with a hint of style. Annie nodded.

“It’s perfect!”

When Annie hugged her, she held on for a minute longer tyhan she might have meant, her cheek against Diane’s shoulder. Neither was willing to break the embrace for a long time.

The white dress was a hit. Greta wore it two days later, and had Annie go through a catalog supplied by designers for more. Already, viewers on the message boards were talking about how energized Greta looked lately. When she passed through the bullpen now, Annie could see envious eyes follow her down the hall to Greta’s dressing room. She had skipped the usual rungs on the ladder, and there were plenty who resented her. But Annie’s focus never wavered. She always looked to the next step in the plan. 

That next step arrived in the shape of Malcolm Seiver. The tasteful gray in his hair was understated, but gave the man an air of authority and experience. At just forty-six, Seiver represented himself as an erudite arbiter of the cultural discourse. His Twitter account was one of the most-followed. The controversy surrounding some of his messages and retweets only added to his online persona, making him the figurehead of an army of disenfranchised young men who saw Seiver as the man they could be, if only the rest of the world, and most especially the cultural elites, would get their collective boot soff the necks of ordinary Americans. 

And that’s how Seiver liked it. Us against them. David and Goliath. Only, when no one was looking, SSN became the Goliath. The most-watched news channel in the world. But that didn’t stop the on-air talent from proclaiming the mainstream media wanted to silence the voices represented by SNN. It was easy to play the victim when you could quiet any voices who tried to counter thata rgument.

And Seiver walked the earth as befitting a man who wielded a media empire like a sword of justice. When he entered Greta’s dressing room, there was a cursory knock and in he came, not waiting for an invitation.

“Greta,” he said, grinning with wide and very white teeth. “You look amazing!”

It was the way you might compliment an elderly aunt who managed to fit ona  dress for a family gathering. It sounded nice, but the implication simmering beneath the words was that of surprise that someone previously dismissed might once more spark curiosity or merit attention.

“Thank you. All thanks to my girl, here. Malcolm, meet Annie.”

He’d been staring since he entered the room. While his face was turned to Greta, his eyes barely left their work of thoroughly examining Annie, from her chunk black heels to the black with the funky white pattern set against it. It showed off a lot of her legs,w hich Annie always felt was her best feature. The way Malcolm Seiver styared at them now made her feel uneasy, and a little sick. The billionaire extended his hand and Annie took it, working to fix the smile on her face and keep it there.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised such a beautifulo young woman is behind Greta’s rebirth. Please let me know if there’s ever anythiong I can do to make you feel more at home.” He held onto her hand and his thumb ran over the back of Annie’s, a subtle caress.

“That’s very kind of you,” Annie managed through her smile. “I love being at SNN, so whatever I can do to contribute.”

One last shake before releasing her hand, and more of Seiver’s toothy grin. “Good to know, Annie. I just may take you up on that. Now, I’ll leave you girls to it.”

After he was gone, Greta caught Annie staring at the now-empty doorway.

“He’s an impressive man,” She conceded, misunderstanding the farway look on Annie’s face. “He’s a powerful man, too. The kind of man you want to be on hi sgood side. But if he asks you for a private meeting, maybe let me know. I might have you scheduled somewhere else.”

Annie looked back to Greta on her stool before the mirror, now turned to face her new stylist. More of that maternal concern thats eemed so far beyond Greta’s years. 

“Thank you,” Annie said, then shook the encounter off. “But let’s worry about your eyeliner.”

“This is wonderful news.”

Diane looked from her lover to Annie, who sat quietly while Benson thought aloud, renewing her pacing. 

“It’s dangerous for Annie. I’m worried what might happen if he gets her alone.”

“She can handle herself,” Benson said quickly. “She’s a capable woman. Reminds me of me. All she has to do is fend him off long enough to arrange a more private meeting. The drones will do the rest.”

Diane looked at Annie again, and the two shared a meaningful look, lost on benson who was standing with her back to them, looking over the floor of the building as the latex dolls moved about in their tasks. At night they would sleep as they were directed, but none held any desires of their own. 

“I’m worried,” Diane started, then said no more, letting the words trail off on their own.

“I can do it,” Annie assured her. And again, as if to convince herself. “I can do it.”

“See?” Benson turned and teased Diane with a smirk. “She’s ready, willing, and able. And when we have Seiver in our grasp, it will all have been worth it. This is going to change things.”

Diane took her to the front door when it was time to leave. The drones were bedded down for the night, or, more precisely, had retired to conditioning chambers where they were lulled to sleep in mindless bliss. Given how often her thoughts trailed to the secret life of the drones, Annie wondered if she didn’t have some hereto unknown fetish for such a thing.

“I know you and Raquel are very sure of yourselves, but please be careful.” Diane leaned on the door while Annie stood on the other side. It was still to warm for a coat, and Annie’s bare arms looked especially fragile. “I hate to sound like the den mother, but I worry about both of you.”

“We’ll both be fine,” Annie assured her, and they embraced again. Annie felt the warm pressure of Diane’s hands on her shoulders and she allowed herself to be held by the bigger woman, sinking into her flesh and breathing deep of her scent. 

The outfit was perfectly tailored for luring Seiver, though that had not been the inspiration. Annie simply thought it was cute. Dark, blocky heels and matching thigh highs that came up only to mid thigh. The red skirt was designed to show off the tops of the thigh highs without being too daring. The black top was a sleeveless black sweater with a high collar. When worn with the red coat she liked, it was a stunner of an outfit. Only three days after her first encounter with Malcolm Seiver, Annie found herself alone in Greta’s dressing room, prepping some new makeup. She was trying her hand at the more theatrical television makeup and thought she might have found a way to bring a nice subtle rose color to Greta’s cheeks without getting too clownish. She had a real future in serving as a personal stylist if it weren’t for all her mad science, she thought and managed a smile. 

When the door opened and closed behind her, Annie barely took notice. It was either Greta on a break stealing away for some of the bottled water lined up on the counter, or one of the interns fetching said bottles. Then, a hand settled on Annie’s left cheek, fingertips tracing circles over her skirt. She stood up fast, spun, and found herself looking up at Malcolm Seiver, her ass now against the counter of the makeup table.

“Sorry,” he grinned. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I guess I’m just jumpy,” Annie replied, forcing her lips into a pleasant expression. She couldn’t stop thinking how much his so-white teeth looked like those of a shark. He was close, enough that she could smell his real scent, the one beneath his cologne. It was acrid and powerful and she knew she would always be able to remember that smell and the way she felt right now, hounded and trapped. “Can I help you with anything?”

He didn’t move. His body was against hers, and Annie thought she might feel his erection under what must have been expensive and privately-tailored slacks. She wanted to bang her fists against his chest and scream at him to get away! But this was just what Benson told her she could handle, and so she would.

“I was hoping I could speak with you. About your future here at SNN. I think it could be a very productive conversation. For both of us.” He flashed his teeth at Annie again, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from shuddering at that stupidly predatory leer.

“Yes,” Annie said, “I was hoping we could have a private meeting sometime. In fact…”

Annie turned away from Seiver, nicking a makeup bad and using an eyebrow pencil to write her number on it. She returned to face Seiver, his body a constant presence against her. She tucked the cotton pad into Seiver’s suit pocket and gave him her best inviting look.

Seiver patted his pocket an backed away. “I’ll call and set something up soon. I see a big future for you.”

“You, too,” Annie said, and feigned a girlish giggle. 

She waited for a long minute after he left before she let the adopted expression lapse and a genuine look of repulsion took its place. Her hands shook, and she was sure she was going to throw up. The way he’d loomed over her, made her feel small and helpless. She hated Seiver in a way she had never hated a man. There had been plenty of small gropes and comments over the years, she was no stranger to the microaggressions of a patriarchal society, but to have Malcolm Seiver steal her sense of safety the way he had made her nauseous and filled her with a surprising and undeniable self-hatred.

She sat in the makeup chair and took slow, deep breaths until the threat of screaming or sobbing passed. She suspected the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was going to remain with her, at least for a while. 

When Greta returned from her air time, Annie hardly shook at all.

The rendezvous was set for an apartment building in the fashionable west end of town. Seiver called that evening not long after Annie turned up on Diane and Raquel’s doorstep with news of their prey biting down hard on th hook set for him. While Diane and Raquel listened in, Annie flirted and teased her way through the conversation. By the end, Seiver agreed to meet Annie in what was presumably her apartment that very night. It didn’t leave a lot of time, but Benson assured Annie with a nod that the next phase was ready.

The building was owned by a woman Benson paid handsomely for the use of a few apartments, some as a sort of halfway house for Benson’s creations, starting them on their new life. In this case, the reverse would be true. Malcolm Seiver would soon be yanked from his old life and turned into something very different. 

The place was sparsely furnished, but Annie supposed decor didn’t matter. The two drones that accompanied her now hid silently in a closet and in the nearby bathroom. They would be taking Seiver in hand not long after he arrived. So all Annie could do is relax and wait. She wore the same outfit as earlier in the day, the one that before felt cute and fun and now made her feel like a whore. She couldn’t wait to get out of them, throw them away, never think of them again.

With everything in place and the trap set to spring, it was a matter of waiting. The minutes swelled until Annie worried she might go crazy from waiting for this monster to arrive. When she was nearly ready to call Diane to get her out of this mess, a knock came at the door and Annie had to stifle a scream.

She smoothed her skirt, took a deep breath, and opened the door, her smile widening with the door. 

“I’m glad you didn’t change,” he announced, pushing past her into the room. His eyes went from ceiling to floor and drank in the Spartan interior in a glance and deemed it wanting. “You look nice in that. Is your decorator out of town?”

He laughed while Annie closed the door to the hallway beyond and leaned against it. Now the smile she wore was genuine. 

“I’m only using the place for a little bit.” Behind him, the bathroom door opened. A black-coated drone emerged, even its face hidden behind the latex. It was silent and steady. Seiver was staring at Annie, that self-satisfied expression smugly planted on his face, an exprression that said he was on the precipice of indulging himself. 

“I don’t suppose you have something tod rink, do-?”

A black-glved hand covered his mouth, a rag coated in one of Benson cocktails. They tested injections, but the inhlation of the sedative and the first big bang of hormones made for a nice jump start. 

“See you in the lab,” Annie said, and she hoped that his open, glassy eyes still saw her and his still heard before the darkness claimed him.

The drone who drugged Seiver eased him to the floor when the drugs took over, the other emerging from behind Annie to assist with lifting him. Annie followed while the living dolls carried Seiver down the hall, one set of steps, and then to a car waiting for them. Annie would follow in the car Diane drove.

The younger girl waited until she saw Seiver secured inside the car, a drone on either side of him, before she climbed into the passenger seat beside Diane in her neat silver sedan. Annie shut the door,e yes straight ahead. She could feel Diane looking at her, but Annie couldn’t meet her eyes, not yet. Her body was still humming with adrenaline and a sick feeling along with it. 

“Annie?”

“I’m fine.”

“What you did, it was too much. If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

“I’m fine,” She repeated, but the tears were coming now. Her voice didn’t waver, but they came nonetheless. 

“It’s alright.” Diane scooped Annie into her arms and held her. Rain was starting outside, and it obscured the view outside, the sound and the cascade of rainwater hiding them from the world. Annie clung to Diane and the two held one another while Annie wept for the horrors that she knew she couldn’t prevent, the Seivers of the world beyond their grasp. She wept for herself, too, and the knowledge that she would now always feel a little bit of fear when she was alone with a man. 

When the tears were spent, Annie lifted her head, and there were Diane’s bright blue eyes, looking at her with concern and love. And without thinking more, Annie leaned close and kissed her. Diane withdrew at first, a sudden and instinctual reaction, but then she softened and the kiss continued. Under the curtain of rain, they held one another and kissed and held hands, as intimate as any lovemaking. 

“We should go,” Diane said. “He’ll almost be at the lab.”

“Yeah,” Annie agreed, and kissed Diane again.

“You can’t show any sign that something like this happened,” Diane said, holding Annie’s gaze. “I mean it. Business as usual.”

“Of course,” Annie assured her.

Diane’s look softened, and she held Annie’s face in her hands. “I am so glad you’re alright, Annie. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d been hurt.” Annie squeezed Diane’s hand and held it in both of her own.

“I’m fine,” she said, and this time Diane thought she could believe it. One last, stolen kiss and they were on their way.