Corporate Takeover: Femme and Balanced

By Lyka Bloom

While Raquel Benson's plot to feminize cultural leaders continues, a deeper drama unfolds alongside a conservative media mogul's transformation.

Benson's first creation and longtime lover, Diane, finds intimacy with the doctor's protege, Annie. In a world where Benson controls the minds and bodies of those around her, can they keep their secret safe, and what will become of them if they don't?

A new chapter in a world of feminization, latex dolls, and hypnotic seduction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyka Bloom
• Release date: Mar 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463598320

Lyka Bloom

Lyka Bloom writes various forms of fiction, but erotica has become a new passion. She preferstransformations and games of control, and enjoys exploring all the perverse kinks bubbling beneath the surface of sexuality.

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CORPORATE TAKEOVER: FEMME AND BALANCED

by Lyka Bloom

CORPORATE TAKEOVER: FEMME AND BALANCED

First Edition. March 15, 2021 at Smashwords.

Copyright © 2020 Lyka Bloom

Written by Lyka Bloom

This is a work of fiction. All names, places, likenesses, events, and incidents are fictional, and are in no way intended to describe actual events.

For more, visit www.LykaBloom.com,

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The bullpen at SNN was behind glass so the cameras could see the journalists buzzing around, hot on the heels of their next story. That was the first hurdle Annie had to overcome. While she was not recognizable, it was that anonymity that allowed her to continue her work with Benson and the reborn Janus Institute. Being seen on camera wouldn't hurt her now, but it would render her useless in the future. Their work did not survive the light of day well. Not yet, anyway. That was one of the reasons Annie was there.

It required some extra work to disguise herself, but something Annie learned was that she was pretty by contemporary standards, but not exceptionally so. Her mouth was pretty, but not alluring, her hazel eyes attractive without coming across as striking. Her naturally soft brown hair lovely, but not uncommon in hue or texture. It was a hard reckoning to realize there is nothing remarkable about your face, but once she understood it, she did what Doctor Benson would do. She turned it into a strength.

It took some convincing. A couple of dye jobs, some make-up tactically applied, but she convinced first Diane, and then Doctor Benson that she could effectively hide in plain sight. From there, it was simply a matter of deciding on what look would be most appealing to the interviewer at SNN.

Blonde, Doctor Benson suggested over an after-dinner coffee one night not so long ago. All of the bimbos they have reading news on SNN are blonde and busty.

Annie wanted to disagree but still found it hard to contradict Benson. The woman was her mentor. More, she inspired Annie, despite the cool demeanor that was as much a part of Raquel Benson as her slender features or the streak of gray that was just beginning at one temple. Thankfully, Diane spoke up.

True, but then she's just another dumb blonde wandering the halls. We want her to stand out, honey.

You're right.

It was remarkable to Annie that Benson's mood could shift so warmly toward Diane while maintaining emotional distance from everyone else. There had been moments, rare and wonderful, when Benson showed Annie a hint of affection, and that slight acknowledgment was just enough to create a craving for it.

I have something in mind, Annie began, and she told them the character she would portray. Not just the physical appearance, but the persona to match. It would be irresistible to the higher-ups, she promised.

In a clinging red top, a houndstooth skirt, and dark tights tapering into fashionable ankle boots, she was both professional and very enticing. With her hair dyed a fiery red and left down, eyes colored green by contacts, pale skin highlighted by just a touch of blush to emphasize her cheeks, she had managed to become impossible to ignore. Another color, another style, a different emphasis to her cosmetics, and she could be unrecognizable to anyone who met this crimson-maned goddess.

The interviewer was unsurprisingly male, in his mid-forties, with a combover that was failing miserably at its aim. He kept tenting his chubby little fingers together while his eyes roamed Annie's legs. She pretended not to notice, but shifted them occasionally, crossing and recrossing to keep him distracted. It was one of the many tricks Doctor Benson taught her about manipulating the mind. If you know what you're doing, the right cadence and the right visual distraction can create a dissonance that makes the listener suggestible. By the end of the interview, not only was Annie quite sure that the interviewer was a bit of a nylon fetishist, she was definitely getting the job. Social Media Representative.

It turned out that all that buzz going on behind the anchors as they spoke was mostly a lot of pretty people on Twitter, hashtagging the hell out of whatever was in the inbox. The system was devilish, as Annie suspected, but the formalization of propaganda took her aback nonetheless. When they arrived in the morning, there would be a list of topics, links to articles from largely conservative outlets, along with the appropriate hashtag branding. It was Annie's job, along with her colleagues, to take to social media and spread the information in the emails.

Some were fairly innocuous good news stories about the current administration's accomplishments. Encouraging employment numbers, some spark of democracy in a far-off corner of the globe. These were inoffensive, but a minority of what Annie saw contained in the messages. The bulk of the sharable links were the worst conspiracy theories, screeds left on blogs meant to incite and divide. Annie hated it. She hated being sunny and chirpy about this kind of hateful bile, but she plastered on her pretty smile and did just that.

The anchors would spew the same information, mirroring not only what the channel's website stated, but the larger conservative news bubble. SNN parroted, amplified, and codified the craziest theories until they became fact. The power of a media conglomerate with its aim on shaping minds was something insidious in the hands of a man like Malcolm Seiver. The man ruled from high atop