Remote takeover

Note: All characters within this story are above 18 years of age. This is a fictional story and is meant to be read as a fantasy by adults (18+). Any apparent lack of consent is purely a narrative element within this fictional setting and is not meant to reflect acceptable behavior in real life. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Drake Industries as a company was at the forefront of technological marvels. Margot Drake had been a cutthroat woman ever since the day she had first started the business and neither age nor success had softened her stance on how she wanted the business to be run, with ruthless efficiency. Which is what made Callum Drake an outlier. He was her own flesh and blood, and yet he was unremarkable in every way. Callum was by no means a slouch. Fresh out of high school, the 18 year old had been top of his class, loved by all of his teachers, and yet he wasn’t enough for Margot. She would always be disappointed in him, no matter what he did. Callum had made peace with that. That did not mean it stung any less.

Right now as he stood in front of her desk, there was nothing he could do but grit his teeth and keep his eyes down. The office itself was a reflection of the woman who owned it. Everything was clean lines and expensive materials. Dark wood, glass, and the kind of authority that surrounded her every move. The air conditioning hummed low. Papers were stacked in perfect order. Even the chair Callum had been told to sit in felt like it had been chosen specifically to make whoever occupied it feel smaller.

“Do you have any idea how important this project is for us…?” Margot spoke coldly, her voice strangely detached and yet still managing to communicate her disappointment. “Jester’s Imaginarium rarely collaborates with other companies and yet they trusted us with this consignment. Do you have ANY idea how much convincing it took?”

Callum knew this project was important for his mother. He didn’t need reminding. He hoped to just take over the company soon and run things his way. But he knew it would be decades before his mother let him have anything. The thought sat heavy in his chest the same way it always did. He kept his eyes on the edge of the desk and waited for the rest of it.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Callum!”

Meekly Callum looked up at the figure seated at the table. His mother was a drop dead gorgeous woman who looked no older than 30. Her dark chestnut hair was slicked back into a large low bun that sat neatly at the base of her skull. Not a single strand out of place. The style pulled the skin of her face just tight enough to make her cheekbones sharper and her mouth look fuller. Her hazel eyes were cold as they fixed on him. She wore a white blouse that had been tailored within an inch of its life. The fabric stretched across the heavy swell of her tits, the buttons under just enough strain that the soft inner curves of them were visible whenever she shifted even slightly. A black pencil skirt hugged her waist and the thick flare of her hips before ending just above the knee. Her legs were crossed, one expensive heel dangling slightly. She looked like power given a body, and she knew it.

Callum felt the familiar mix of irritation and reluctant awareness settle in his gut. He hated how good she looked. He hated that even now, while she was dressing him down, part of him still noticed the way the blouse pulled across her chest and the way her thighs pressed together under the desk.

“I will check with the research team and see if they’ve made any progress, Mom.” Callum said softly.

“Mom?” Margot’s voice stayed level but the single word carried weight. “How many times do I have to remind you, Callum. When you’re at work, I am not your mother. I am your boss. I am Miss Drake to you. Am I clear on this?”

Callum gritted his teeth. He knew there was no point in fighting this beast. The argument never went anywhere useful. It only prolonged the humiliation. He forced the words out.

“Yess… Miss Drake.”

“That’s better. Now go and make yourself useful…” Margot said dismissively as she waved her hand and didn’t even look at him as she got back to the papers on her desk. The dismissal was complete. She had already moved on. Callum was no longer worth the oxygen.