(TG)RESTRUCTURED (PDF) (Patreon)

Introduction

I’ve managed the freight logistics account for Mark’s company for five years. It was the kind of steady, boring work that pays the mortgage—weekly video calls about shipping containers, Q3 projections, and pallet discrepancies. Mark was a good man: competent, tired, and perpetually buried in a slightly ill-fitting grey suit. When the news broke that a luxury lifestyle conglomerate called "Velvet & Gold" was acquiring the firm, we both joked about it. I expected a logo change, maybe a new email signature. I never expected that I would spend the next two years watching a slow-motion human demolition project through my laptop screen, witnessing my colleague be systematically erased and replaced by... her.

Date: Tuesday, May 1st, 2023

"Mark, the Q3 shipping routes are due," I pressed, watching him rub his exhausted face on the grainy screen.

"I know," Mark stammered, his voice thick with confusion. He pulled at his loose, messy tie, looking like a man on the edge of a breakdown. "But the new owners... Velvet & Gold... they sent this memo on 'Executive Service Standards.' It’s weird, buddy. It says managers need to be 'visually pleasing' and 'available for personal relief needs' of the senior partners."

He gestured helplessly at the V&G Acquisition Memo tab open next to his Severance Calculator.

"I’m a logistics guy, not a... concierge," he whispered, rubbing his eyes again. "But HR said if I don't demonstrate 'submissive adaptability' by Friday, I lose the severance. I don't understand what they want from me." He looked down at his grey suit, disgusted. "Mr. Sterling, the new CEO, stopped by my desk and just stared at my neck. He told me I looked 'tense' and that he’d need to 'break me in' personally. What does that even mean?"

Tuesday, July 17th, 2023

"You look different, Mark," I said. "Younger. And... smoother."

Mark grimaced, clutching a bottle of thick green sludge. His face was completely clean-shaven, the stubble gone, leaving him looking raw and baby-faced.

"I don't know what's happening," he murmured, taking a sip and shuddering. "The employee handbook updated overnight. It mandatory 'purification.' I'm not allowed solid food until my waist hits the 'secretary standard' of 28 inches." He looked around the room, where plastic tarps covered the desks. "They took my chair, took the data analysts... they said I need to learn to be 'light on my feet.'"

He looked down at his chest, looking distressed. "And the company doctor gave me these supplements. He said they're for 'stress,' but I feel... foggy. Dizzy. And every time Mr. Sterling walks past, I get this weird urge to lower my head and apologize. I’ve never apologized for anything in my life. Why am I doing that?"

Monday, October 1st, 2023

"Mark? You’re glowing," I noted, unsettled by the wet, dewy sheen on his skin.

"It’s the wellness protocol," he said softly, his voice lacking its usual edge. He touched his cheek with a strange, lingering fascination. "I spent all morning in the Velvet & Gold Wellness Portal. It’s... nice. It tells me to stop thinking so hard."

He was wearing a white polo that was two sizes too small, the fabric stretching tight over a chest that looked noticeably softer and swollen.

"My body feels weird, though," he whispered, looking confused. "My nipples are so sensitive. The fabric rubbing against them... it makes me feel hot. Distracted." He looked into the camera, eyes wide and glassy. "Mr. Sterling called me into his office just to hold his coffee cup while he made calls. I stood there for an hour, just holding it. And the weirdest part? I liked it. I liked being useful like that. Is that normal?"

Wednesday, March 6th, 2024

"Mark, the inventory list?"

"It’s 'M' now," the figure on the screen corrected with a giggle. He—she?—was wearing a navy blue silk blouse, unbuttoned enough to show the distinct cleavage forming on his chest.

"M, then. The list?"

"I don't know where that is," M sighed, running a manicured hand through his styled, bobbed hair. "I’ve been moved to the 'Executive Care' unit. I just track Sephora orders and make sure the boardroom smells like vanilla now."

He looked down at his silk-clad torso, confusion flickering behind the lip gloss. "The boss bought me this blouse. He said the boys in the warehouse were looking at me too much, so I needed to cover up... but the silk feels so good. It makes my chest tingle." M bit his swollen lip. "I caught myself practicing my smile in the mirror for twenty minutes. I just want the boss to tell me I'm a 'good girl' again. Why does that make my knees weak?"

Wednesday, May 1st, 2024

"M, please, I need the authorization," I begged.

"I can't authorize anything, silly," she cooed, adjusting the dusty-rose satin blouse that was strained to bursting over her expanding bust. "I’m just here for... support."

She leaned forward, the deep neckline revealing heavy, flushed cleavage. The tabs on her screen were for Boas's Dry Cleaning and an Executive Catering Menu.

"I had to pick up Mr. Sterling's laundry today," she whispered, a blush rising on her cheeks. "He made me fold his underwear while he watched. My heart was pounding so fast. I felt so... small. So obedient." She ran a hand down her front, looking bewildered. "My chest is so heavy now. The hormones make me feel so emotional and empty-headed. I tried to do the math on the catering budget, but I got a headache, so I just ordered whatever the boss likes. Is it bad that I just want to serve him coffee on my knees?"

Tuesday, August 20th, 2024

"Anna? What happened to your face?"

The woman on the screen touched the white tape on her tiny, surgically altered nose. She was sitting in a luxury suite, wearing a black cardigan that fell open to reveal angry red scars on a massive new chest.

"I... I woke up like this," she said, her voice nasally and thick. "The company doctor said I needed 'corrective surgery' to fix my breathing... but I think he put implants in? They’re huge. heavy." She cupped the swollen mounds, wincing.

"I feel so helpless," she murmured, staring at the V&G Style Guide tab. "Mr. Sterling put me in this suite to recover. He visits me. He likes to watch me struggle to sit up with this weight on my chest. He calls me his 'little doll.' I should be angry, right? But when he looks at me... I just feel like I was made for this. To be looked at. To be his pretty decoration."

Friday, November 15th, 2024

"Anna, the logistics contract?"

"Oh, stop being so boring," she sighed, leaning into the camera to apply lip liner with obsessive focus. She wore a leopard print top that plunged deep, exposing the massive, soft valley of her cleavage.

"I have a Lip Filler Appointment in an hour," she mumbled around the pencil. "Mr. Sterling said my mouth looked 'too smart.' He wants it softer. Poutier."

She blinked her heavy lashes, looking vacant. "I don't remember how to log into the logistics system anyway. The password was too long." She giggled, tracing the rim of her overfilled lips. "I just sit at the front desk now. The men walk by and stare at my tits, and I smile. That's my whole job. It feels so... right. Like my brain is melting into pink syrup. Do you think the boss will let me sit on his lap if I wear this print?"

Tuesday, January 14th, 2025

"Anna, focus!"

"I am focusing," she whined, snapping a selfie with her rhinestone phone. She was squeezed into a pink latex top that squeaked loudly every time she breathed, the material compressing her enormous implants.

"Look at this," she murmured, showing me the screen. "Mr. Sterling texted me. He said 'Come to my office and look stupid.' That's my favorite instruction." She ran a long pink nail over her chest. "This latex cuts off the circulation to my brain, I swear. I feel so dizzy and floaty."

She looked at the CEO Schedule tab. "I don't think I'm a manager anymore, darling. I think I'm just... things. Tits and lips. I used to worry about shipping routes, and now I just worry if my gloss is sticky enough. It’s so much easier. I just want to be used."

Thursday, May 1st, 2025

"Anna, the deadline passed an hour ago," I said, my voice sounding harsh against the silence of her end. "I need a decision."

Anna didn't respond immediately. She sat motionless, blowing a huge pink bubble of gum that expanded until it nearly touched the tip of her tiny, sculpted nose, her eyes wide and completely empty. When the bubble popped with a sticky snap, she peeled it off her glossy lips slowly, smiling like a lobotomized doll.

"Decision?" she giggled, the word sounding foreign and heavy in her mouth. She twirled a strand of bleach-blonde hair around a long, pink talon, looking genuinely confused. "I don't make those, sweetie. I don't... I don't think I'm allowed to?"

She shifted in her chair, and the sheer mass of her 2000cc implants heaved forward, resting heavily on the desk and dominating the bottom half of the screen. The pink latex top was stretched so tight it squeaked audibly against her skin, holding her in a permanent state of breathless restriction.

"I just check the schedule," she whispered, tapping the CEO Schedule tab with a vacant smile. "Mr. Sterling is coming down in five minutes. He told me to just sit here, look expensive, and keep my mouth open. My head feels so fuzzy and nice when I listen to him." She blinked, her long lashes fluttering. "I used to worry about... numbers? I think? But now I just worry if I'm shiny enough for him. Do I look like a good secretary? I haven't moved in hours. I'm just waiting to be used."

The End