Thread: Office Catfight
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Old 12-27-2017, 05:56 PM
Everard Everard is offline
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… CONTINUED


Christabel spun round to see Gwen standing next to the lift doors, hands on hips and a very hostile expression on her usually docile little face. She recovered very quickly, considering.

“You’ll never guess, some idiot’s duplicated this invoice and if we don’t sort it out, Cottinghams are going to have a huge bill this month –”

“I don’t mean that and well you know it missy, I mean you and my Ricky.”

“We do work together, you know.”

“There is a difference,” spat Gwen, “Between working WITH somebody and working ON him. I’m not as stupid as I look –”

“You couldn’t be –”

“I’ve been stood here long enough to see what’s been going on. First you wave your tits in his face. Then you come round here and flash your fanny at him. Finally you practically shag him in front of the entire department. Have you no shame?”

“Me? I’m not the one shouting. Anyway how do you know what’s going on? You can’t even see us from where you sit.”

“I don’t need to, I’ve got my spies. First it was, ‘oh can you help me Ricky, I don’t know what to do here,’ then it was, ‘oh can you have a look at this,’ then ‘oh can you show me on your screen,’ and all the time you were giving him his own private striptease show.”

“I most certainly was not.”

“Don’t give me that, he’s seen everything except your fallopian tubes.”

“Anyway I don’t need to ask for help. I’ve got qualifications you know. And experience.”

“Yeah, and we don’t need to ask what sort. You only took this job because there were no vacancies in Salthouse Square.”

Christabel fumed so intensely it seemed the top of her head would blow off. Salthouse Square was the local red light district.

“You COW!!” She launched herself with the speed and efficiency of an Exocet missile. But for once Gwendolyn’s four foot eleven and a half (the half was really important) worked in her favour and her dainty little sidestep meant she got the immeasurable pleasure of seeing Chris go sailing past, to end up sprawling on the office carpet. She tried to get up, but one of her expensive high heels had broken; she lost her footing and went straight down again. Gwen, meanwhile, had thought of a new use for the discarded printer cartridge, hoiked it out of the bin and delivered a mighty blow across Christabel’s splendid butt. She went down yet again.

“You B-TCH!” Puce with rage, Chris kicked off her shoes and leapt at Gwen, who didn’t quite manage to get out of the way this time, and both girls went down in a heap. All work had now stopped; colleagues who previously had popped up, meerkat-like, to see what was going on, simply abandoned their desks and workstations for a better view.

“You SL-T!” That was Gwen. She was doing a really good job of holding onto the taller girl, but Chris had got a better grip on her black pullover, and yanked at it with all her might. It came off in one piece, and before Gwen could do anything, Chris’s other hand found purchase on the collar of her blouse, and with a shriek of rending fabric and a clatter of buttons, the whole garment sailed across the room, to land on top of the water cooler.

Gwendolyn cursed her luck. The one day she didn’t have a clean bra and decided to go without one, this had to happen. The only person who had ever seen her naked breasts was Eric, well that figure had just been increased by about thirty. Then she realised she didn’t actually care, indeed since meeting Eric her body confidence had so improved that she felt positively empowered. She fetched Chris a mighty slap across the face that left her dazed and brought a cheer from the entire office. Chris, however, had discovered the remains of the printer cartridge on the floor beside them and brought it up to hit Gwen on the head, but again the smaller girl proved the quicker, and knocked it from her hand; it skidded across the office, leaving a trail of fine black powder behind it.

Now on top, Gwen’s legs worked in her favour. Years of cycling during her youth may have spoiled their shape, but had given them massive strength. Chris found herself helpless in their vice-like grip, as her beautiful butterscotch blouse was ripped off and thrown who-knew-where. Front-fastening bras may be useful in some situations, but this was not one of them, and it was soon disposed of. As another cheer went up, the slap across the face gave a repeat performance. With her eyes filling with tears, and her make up both smudged and running, Christabel was no longer looking her immaculate self. Indeed with every male eye in the room glued to her 36C’s, she was feeling decidedly less optimistic than she had only a few seconds before.

“Not so cocky now, are we? That’ll teach you to leave other people’s fiancés alone, won’t it?” Suddenly Eric sat up and took notice. Where had the f-word come from? It had never passed his lips.

Eric wasn’t the only one confused. Christabel was now paused between fight and flight; did she carry on and possibly get her ass kicked, or back down and lose face anyway? She made one more half-hearted attempt to strike out, but was finding it so difficult to move with Gwen’s powerful thighs crushing her ribs, that even her long arms failed to reach the target. Eventually she managed to get a foot wedged against the leg of Eric’s desk, and with one massive push was free, leaping to her feet and looking frantically around to see where her blouse and bra had landed.

Gwen had strength in her arms too, and just before Chris’s long legs took her out of reach, placed one hand in her waistband and pulled.

RRRIIIIIIPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!

The skirt, tights and thong came away as one. Every male eye in the room dropped two feet. Christabel was now standing there with her perfectly shaved pussy lips exposed to the world. Her fantastic ass bore a nice big red mark from where the printer cartridge had hit it. Silence enveloped the room … for about five seconds.

“NOBODY MOVE!”

Just outside the lift, where Gwen had been standing less than a minute before, was the Managing Director.

“I very rarely come down from the sixth floor,” he said calmly. “Perhaps I should keep an eye on you lot a bit more. I decide to investigate a simple invoice problem, then when I arrive find all hell has broken loose. Miss Grant, Miss Taylor, go to the Head Of Department’s office and wait for me there.”

Gwendolyn retrieved her pullover and blouse and managed to get them back on somehow. Christabel, whose outfit had been totally destroyed, simply remained naked and held what was left of her clothes in front of her, giving the entire department plenty of time to admire her shapely rear as she departed.

The two girls waited silently for the MD, not even looking at each other. The MD stopped by Eric’s desk to engage him in conversation for a minute, then came straight in. Chris’s mouth was at full throttle the moment he walked through the door.

“You should have seen what happened! She attacked me!”

“I did see what happened. She did not. You are fired, Miss Taylor.”

“You can’t fire me for defending myself!”

“I’m not, Christabel. I’m firing you because I just found out who made a cock-up on an invoice that could have lost us our best customer.”


THE END

(or is it?)

Last edited by Everard; 12-27-2017 at 06:04 PM.
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