The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Reorg

MD, MF, MA, GR

By Gregory Michelson

Chapter 1

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“A reorg?” Cassie stared at Wanda. “No, fuck that. I survived one reorg, I’m not living through another one!”

Wanda rolled her eyes at her fellow executive. “It can’t be that bad.”

“You haven’t lived through them. Every policy changing every second, and then it’s never fault!” Cassie looked at her friend. “Trust me, by this time next year, you’ll be needing to dye your hair to disguise the gray.”

“Really.” Wanda ran her hand through her curly brown hair, the Latina rolling her brown eyes at her friend. “Seriously, Cassie you need to get laid. I mean, that or do something to keep from flying off the handle.’

“I’m not flying off the handle!” Cassie retreated to the door, then pointed at Wanda, her finger shaking. “You will come back to me and say: ‘Why oh why didn’t you warn me! Save me, Cassie!’ and I will say… ‘no.’”

“Great, now you’re emulating bad movie actors.” Wanda said. “Look, the reorg is gonna start this week, so just try to not freak too loud. Remember reorg means changes in position. Don’t want to make people think you’re too flakey to run accounts.”

“Ha. Ha.” With that, Cassie turned and left her friends office.

Ten stories, she thought. Ten stories of offices and secretarial floors and it was all gonna be reorged. And there had been no warning, none at all. Something about the owner going to a special conference, and when she’d come back she’d been thrilled to try “new changes for a new world.”

“What the hell is a new world?” Cassie muttered, passing the cubical farm where the engineers were working. Tanya was frowning, looking at a complex diagram that looked like some magic spell to Cassie.

“What is that?” Cassie finally asked.

“Circuit board for a new cleaner,” Tanya said, brushing her red hair back. “It’s a bitch and a half, and now they’re talking about mixing teams.”

“Reorg?”

“Guess so. But we’re supposed to get our manuals this afternoon.”

“Yeah.” Cassie said. “Great.” She walked away, frowning at all the women working. Girls outnumbered guys by 3:1 here, which sometimes made finding a date hard, but made it easier to get stuff done. So long she didn’t—

“Good. You’re here.”

Ah fuck. Clarissa. Slowly Cassie turned to see her boss. Clarissa was the head of finance, which meant that accounts directly reported to her. Which meant that Cassie might be head of accounts, but she was Clarissa’s subordinate and the woman didn’t let anyone forget it.

Clarissa had light brown hair, done in a bun, her clothing always immaculate, disguising her lack of a chest.

She was holding something… A pink booklet?

“What is that?”

“The reorg guidelines.” She gestured to a cart. “I’m ensuring that everyone gets their copy.”

Cassie blinked. “Why are some blue?”

“Those are the ones for the men.” Clarissa frowned. “No doubt some silly joke on the part of an immature intern.”

“Right.” Cassie decided not to say anything else. Getting Clarissa in a rant never went well for anyone. She reached out and took the book, frowning at the way it felt heavier than it should. “How many pages?” she finally asked, risking a Clarissa rant.

“150. It is a very detailed reorg manual.” Clarissa paused. “I haven’t read it yet. In fact, our instructions were to read only the first part over this weekend.”

“Arrrggghhh!” Cassie burst out. “Micromanaging! I knew it! We’re not allowed to read the entire thing?”

“It is clearly to make certain nobody skims over the important parts.” Clarissa said. “If you want to read more than you are requested, feel free, but I expect if you let others know, it won’t look good for you in the reorg.”

“What are they going to do, fire me?”

Clarissa said nothing.

“Clarissa…”

“I have heard rumors that it is believed that we have… too many workers, and the reorg is to help us become more… lean.”

Oh. Fuck. “Lean” was a codeword for “layoff.”

Great. Just great.

“Fine, Clarissa, I’ll be a good girl. But any hints on what they’re thinking of when they talk about “lean?””

“No.” She sniffed and turned. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have other individuals to see.”

“Right.” I guess Clarissa is worried. She didn’t ream me out nearly as badly as I thought she would.

But I’ll hold on to this until I’m home. Because I know why they’re giving instructions now.

It had nothing to do with what was on the book. The people in charge of the reorg wanted to see who would play ball.

And Cassie wasn’t about to be one of the ones who got a “not a team player” notice in the mail.

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