The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Reorg

MD, MF, MA, GR

By Gregory Michelson

Chapter 2

* * *

When Clarissa got home, she glared at the reorg manual. 150 pages. Probably super boring. And she had to read only part of it, like some little girl given instructions.

Stupid manual.

Stupid, stupid manual.

And why did it have to be pink! It was aggressively pink, some kind of foofy color you’d expect to find in some cheerleader’s journal, the one where she talked about marrying the quarterback so she wouldn’t have to get a job.

“You and the Company Reorganization!” the letters were pink. The font was silly.

Clarissa glared at it. She could read it later.

She went to get something to eat, and came back much later, stomping into her apartment, glaring at the walls. Another miserable day and the book was still there.

Mocking her.

Mocking her with its pink lettering and frilly, feminine font.

She finally sat down and looked at the fucking book. One hundred and fifty pages. How the hell do you spend one hundred and fifty pages for a reorg?

She shook her head and opened the book.

Moments later, her voice filled the room.

“OH WHAT THE FUCK!”

* * *

She stared at the cover, of some busty executive with a pixie cut, looking nervously out of the photo at Clarissa. Worse, the lettering was in a spiral around her, forcing Clarissa to read it by tilting the book so that she would be able to interpret the wiggly, pink letters.

Really? We paid money for this? I wonder what the guys are getting?

She shook her head and started reading. She had a hard time sight reading the words because of the font and the way they were tilted, so Clarissa started reading aloud.

“Hi, I’m Tracy.”

Of course she’s a Tracy. Clarissa fought the urge to go ‘hi, Tracy’ to the image.

Then it was time to turn the page.

And now the lettering was still pink, but moving up and down like waves, drawing her eyes to it. There were tiny letters and sentences behind the text, but Clarissa couldn’t read them. They kept sliding off of her eyes when she tried to look at them, like some of those joke images you saw at the circus.

“Whatever.” Then she peered down at the text.

It was still easier to read aloud for some reason.

“I know you’re worried about the reorg! I was as well, especially since I wasn’t certain if I was going to keep my job.”

Yeah, you got that right.

“Now the first thing to do is don’t worry. After all, the men will always want to keep people like us around.”

The fuck? The word ‘men’ wasn’t the same color as the rest of the text. It was red. A firm, dynamic color that stood out around all the girly bits. She shook her head and kept reading:

“But we all have to make adjustments. During the reorg, you have to be open to new ideas.” There was that red font color again. Now that Clarissa noticed it, she saw that it was scattered across the pages.

She would probably check out—then she started reading the next section.

“Like one idea is that you don’t read ahead.” That font again. “I used to skim and read ahead in my material, but it didn’t make me a good worker. A good employee, or someone they would keep around during the reorg.”

Clarissa bit her lip. She could imagine someone quizzing her and finding out that she had just skimmed some stuff, and didn’t really know it. Yeah, that’d be bad. That’d be very bad, especially during a reorg.

Tracy was right.

Clarissa fixed her eyes on the sentence after the one she’d just read, trying to ignore the words that came after it. She’d get to them soon enough.

“Now the important thing is to understand that we have to be willing to learn.” That red font again. “To accept new ideas.”

Clarissa wanted to say something snarky, but she didn’t. The words did make sense, after all, and if she didn’t want to be let go, she’d have to learn.

“To accept new ideas,” she said to herself, emphasizing the word. It seemed to be right.

“And part of accepting new ideas is to understand that we don’t know everything,” Tracy continued speaking, her words somehow sounding different in Clarissa’s mind. “And we’ll have to take instruction. Doesn’t that sound exciting. We’re going to learn to be the woman we need to be in the new world of the reorg!”

Clarissa didn’t snark. It made sense. She would have to learn.

“So don’t just think of this like you’re reading from what I say!”

“Repeat after me!”

“Repeat after me!” Clarissa said the words twice, and smiled. It did feel better.

“I will accept new ideas from the men during the reorg!”

“I will accept new ideas from the—the men during the reorg!” Clarissa flushed. She had stuttered, but like…

She needed to be open to changes and there were some men in the office, not a lot, but some. So maybe she needed to accept their new ideas.

“If I find myself not being open to new ideas, I’ll pause and think.”

“If I find myself not being open to new ideas, I’ll pause and think.” That made sense.

“And remember, a good office lady always accepts input, and listens to it, and takes it seriously.”

“And remember, a good office lady always accepts input, and listens to it, and takes it seriously.”

There was one last line. “Now get some sleep, and remember, you need to follow the reorg guidelines.”

Clarissa put the book down. The chapter was ended and she wasn’t about to risk… risk…

Not following the manual. In fact she… Clarissa yawned, the action sudden, uncontrollable, and she was just so fucking tired.

She needed to get some sleep.

Like the manual said. After all, she was following the manual.

Clarissa nodded, got up, undressed, and then toppled onto her bed, asleep before she hit the sheets.

* * *