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Old 12-26-2017, 10:50 PM
Everard Everard is offline
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Default Office Catfight

Gwendolyn was acutely conscious of the fact that she wasn’t that attractive.

She was very short (less than 5 foot), had unruly dirty-blonde hair and was only just pretty enough not to be plain. Her tits had nice nipples, in her boyfriend’s opinion, but she herself didn’t like the way they drooped. And her ass wasn’t as small and trim as she would have liked. Also, due to her height or rather lack of it, she had dumpy little legs. All in all she was somewhat dissatisfied.

Her boyfriend, Eric, however, was perfectly happy with her. They had been together for over a year and he was utterly devoted to her. He thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Gwen thought he must be crazy but, if he carries on being this crazy, she thought, then it’s fine. And their sex life was absolutely perfect; neither of them had any complaints about that.

So Wendy decided it didn’t matter what she thought of herself. If someone else appreciated her, then life was good.

And indeed it was. That is, until the day that Eric met … Christabel.

Eric and Gwen worked for the same company, but in different departments. They were on the same floor and if they both craned their necks could just about see one another. He worked in Accounts Receivable and she in Accounts Payable so they never had any interaction, but one day they had sat at the same table in the canteen at lunchtime, had struck up a conversation and that was that. He asked her out less than a week later, and within a month they were planning a weekend away. That weekend was an absolute revelation for both of them. Neither of them had met anyone before with whom they were so sexually compatible, and now they had … each other.

The next year was total bliss. Then the AR department took on a new filing clerk. Christabel was tall, willowy, dark-haired, dark-eyed and possessed a dark beauty which enthralled everyone who saw her. Every man in the company wanted to take her out, and most of them asked. But she rejected them all – because she had eyes for Eric, and none other, and her campaign to get him began in earnest.

It started with the occasional exchange of glances over the partition separating her desk from his, next she would ask him for assistance so that he would come round and stand behind her while she displayed some figures on her screen for his approval, then she would stand behind him to watch his screen, her hand resting gently on his shoulder while she lowered her head to whisper some question in his ear. Soon she progressed to wrapping her entire arm round him and placing her face so close to his that had he turned through even the slightest angle, their lips would have met.

Furthermore, her advances were verbal as well as physical; she never missed an opportunity to let him know how helpful he was, how sympathetic and how … well, she never completed that particular sentence, but the body language made it fairly obvious. Of course, being a normal healthy adult heterosexual human male, Eric appreciated the attention. And not being the sharpest knife in the box, he failed to notice how blatant it was.

The day it all came to a head, Eric was sitting concentrating on a thorny problem when Christabel spoke up.

“Have you got a Cottingham Construction invoice there from March?” she asked. “I think someone’s fouled up and charged them for the same parts twice.” As she said this, she rose up to peer over the partition at him, thus ensuring he got a good view of her low-cut top, and the 36C breasts that it wasn’t making a very good job of containing. Eric’s underwear began to have a little containment problem too.

“Normally they only order these once every couple of months, yet here they are on two invoices less than two weeks apart.” She might as well have been talking Latin, as Eric had ceased to listen the moment she stood up; his attention was firmly elsewhere. And ‘firmly’ was quickly becoming the operative word.

“Hang on, I’ll come round.” She started to move round the desk, but had failed to notice some fool had left a used printer cartridge sticking out of her waste bin and went straight into it.


“You OK?”

“Think so.” She arrived at Eric’s side of the desk, hobbling rather than gliding elegantly as she’d hoped to. “I think I snagged my tights on that stupid thing.”

She stopped next to Eric, put one foot up on his desk, and inspected the inside of her left thigh, a little unnecessarily as it had been the outside of her right calf that had caught the cartridge.

Eric couldn’t help getting an eyeful. “No, I think it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” mused Chris. She turned slightly towards him, thus ensuring an uninterrupted view of the skimpiest pink thong in her wardrobe.

“Well I suppose you could be right,” she said, reluctantly dropping her foot to the floor and smoothing her micro skirt over her magnificently slender legs.

She bent down so that their eyes were level. “Can you bring that up on your screen? I reckon someone just raised the same invoice twice.” She had regained her usual pose, arm casually round his shoulders and right cheek virtually touching his left.

So it was just another ordinary day at Mercurial Metals Limited – except that on that particular Thursday, the Accounts Payable department had just finished taking a collection for Marion Murphy, who would be retiring the next day, and the staff member in charge of the celebrations for the morrow, was just returning from a shopping trip to buy a suitable leaving present. So after leaving the gift with the Head Of Department for safekeeping, the route back to Gwendoyn’s desk took her near enough to Eric’s side of the office to witness this sordid spectacle.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

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Old 12-27-2017, 05:56 PM
Everard Everard is offline
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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.


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.


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.”


(or is it?)

Last edited by Everard; 12-27-2017 at 06:04 PM.
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Old 12-28-2017, 01:48 AM
Raycat Raycat is offline
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Like it a lot Everard. And well i think a final fight would be very, very hot.


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Old 12-28-2017, 05:12 AM
Everard Everard is offline
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Yes I'm beginning to think a sequel might be in the offing, I'll have to see what sort of reception the first episode gets.
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Old 09-06-2018, 06:11 AM
Everard Everard is offline
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Got an idea for a sequel:

Christabel gets the sack and disappears, never to be seen again. Eric and Gwendolyn's relationship goes from strength to strength.

Then one night after work, Eric is dragged reluctantly to a colleague's stag night. They end up at a lap dancing club, and discover that Chris is one of the dancers. Somehow Gwen gets wind of it, and turns up.

Any interest?
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Old 10-01-2018, 05:14 AM
Everard Everard is offline
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Presumably not, looks like this one has run its course then.

Anyone who wants to read any more, will have to write it himself!

I'm now working on something different.
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