It was a corporate party. The office of the auditing company was located 3 km outside the Moscow Ring Road, in the building of a former holiday home converted into a business center. On a hot July evening, about twenty-five employees were celebrating the company's anniversary in a nearby park. There was a common table, there was a toastmaster, there was a very short performance by some pop singer from the early 90s. Already towards the end of the evening, when the official program was over, the celebrants broke up into groups according to interests: someone continued to drink, somewhere they smoked, discussing "This is such a fish." About ten people continued to dance to the rhythms of the new Russian pop music. Zhanna, a leading specialist in the audit department, danced a slow dance with Stanislav, one of the senior managers. Zhanna was a very feminine blonde of about thirty. A curvy figure, long luxurious hair, bright makeup and manicure, and a perfectly fitting business suit emphasized the girl's screaming sexuality. Perhaps the first thing that caught the eye of those around her was the girl's luxurious breasts, captivating the male gaze. Today, at an informal party, the blonde enhanced this effect by coming in such a deep neckline that the edge of her lacy black bra was visible from the steep slit of her black jacket and blouse. And she was a bitch. Zhanna was not married and maintained the image of a free huntress, often changing partners (mainly from her circle of colleagues) and openly "stepping on heads" in both official and personal relationships. Men (and the boss too) smirked, considering her a whore, a bitch, etc., but at the same time they sympathized with Zhanna. It is not surprising that in such a situation the female half of the office did not like the self-confident blonde, but everything was limited to whispers and contemptuous glances. But one day a feud began, which grew into an open confrontation and ended in a bloody and shameful female fight in front of (all) the office employees.
Zhanna's rival was called Ekaterina. About 25 years old, a slender, short (163 cm) brunette, she worked as a receptionist and was considered a very nice and athletic person. Katya was also unmarried, but had her sights set on Stanislav. Even without a luxurious figure, Katya was a beautiful woman. Beautiful and stubborn. When Zhanna, several times in a row, demanded that Katya do work that was not part of her job responsibilities, she directly told the impudent woman everything she thought about her. The claims were made publicly in a rather rude form. Certain epithets and comparisons even caused laughter among Zhanna's subordinates, which she could not tolerate at all, and she splashed a glass of water in Katya's face. That time, Ekaterina tolerated the prank, and everything ended almost peacefully, with only shouts. Over the next month, several more verbal skirmishes occurred. The feud was heating up. Zhanna started a war against the young, beautiful and rebellious employee, using the most accessible lever - men. And, not having the direct power to fire Katya, she began to incite the boss and his deputy to do so.
Katerina, although she did not have the same influence on her male bosses as her rival, had a huge support of the female part of the team. They were all really fed up with Zhanna's antics. The final showdown took place right at the corporate party. The girls met on the dance floor. No one had planned anything in advance. Katya, while dancing, accidentally stepped on Zhanna's foot, scratching her bright red shoe with her heel. Zhanna's reaction was instant and instinctive: she screamed and gave her offender a resounding slap.
Zhanna had never fought before in her life, it was not her weapon. A polished office lioness, she did not allow such a crude option for resolving a feud as a fight with a rival. And even more so, it did not fit into her head that another woman could beat her. How? There were people around! There was a man next to her! This upstart would not dare to do anything! And Zhanna had seriously miscalculated.
Katerina couldn't stand the slap. She had never fought before either, but she was mentally prepared for a fight. Moreover, on a subconscious level, she even wanted to beat up the blonde who had an arrogant opinion of herself. But at that moment Katya didn't think about it, she also acted instinctively. And the alcohol she had drunk made itself felt.
"You bitch!" - Ekaterina grabbed Zhanka's hair, and the rivals fell to the floor.
The girls were being pulled apart by Stanislav and three other men. The rivals had grabbed each other by the hair so tightly that it was impossible to separate the fighters. The girls were being pulled by the elbows in different directions, their fingers were being straightened, unhooking them from their hair and blouses. And when the women were almost unhooked from each other, Katya, still clinging to her rival’s locks, managed to hit Zhanna in the face with her heel as a last blow. This blow, which turned out to be unexpectedly accurate, landed right in Zhanna’s teeth. Here, finally, the girls were pulled apart. It was a pity to look at Zhanna: with her last blow, Katya tore her rival’s lip and damaged her front teeth. Just a few minutes ago, calm and confident in her superiority, Zhanna, crying, was tearing herself away from the two pairs of hands holding her and towards her offender. The blonde simply went crazy with pain and resentment, splashing bloody saliva, she shouted curses and insults, she wanted revenge, she was ready to tear her rival apart. But the fight was already over, several pairs of hands were holding the girls tightly.
Ekaterina laughed hysterically in response. Despite the fact that a decent clump of her black hair was lying on the floor and her face was scratched, she felt like a winner. Of course, she still managed to get to Zhanka at the last moment, such an independent and arrogant bitch. And not just get to her, but to ruin her pearly, even teeth.
Zhanna roared, glaring at Katya, and tore herself from the hands holding her to rush at her rival.
Here Alexandra, the commercial director's friend, who was also watching the fight, shouted with laughter: "Let them sort it out to the end. Better yet, let them do it now, in front of everyone!" Alexandra worked as an accountant at the company and was considered Zhanna's friend - they had common interests, such as a love of clothes, and in general the girls were similar.
Everyone was already pretty drunk, so their moral brakes were weakened. The men were excited by what was happening, and no wonder - Katya's tight skirt was completely pulled up, revealing her athletic bottom in a blue thong to the onlookers. Her white blouse was torn from the collar to the navel, and a snow-white translucent bra was visible through the tear. But most of the men were greedily looking at Zhanna - there was something to look at. All scratched, disheveled, she was tearing towards the offender, crying, one strap of her lace bra snapped, and her luxurious, slightly loose breasts jumped out through the slit in her neckline. The sleeve of her jacket was almost torn off. Her tight black trousers came apart between her legs along the entire length of the seam, revealing her red lace panties.
Needless to say, the men froze in their tracks.
And the girls watching the fight were interested in watching the shame of their two colleagues. The men holding the enraged rivals looked at each other, nodded to each other, and let the girls go. Manager Stanislav, who had been dancing with Zhanna and showering her with compliments five minutes ago, whispered parting words: “Tear her up, baby. I’m with you.”
The blonde, tucking her protruding breast under her blouse, screamed "I'll kill you, bitch!" and rushed towards Katya, clearly intending to maim her. The brunette calmly met the woman running towards her with a sharp and precise punch to the nose. Zhanna, as if running into an invisible barrier, howled, and clutching her face, spun around the court to the hoots of the spectators. Blood flowed profusely from the girl's broken nose. Zhanna, with a disfigured face, in shock from pain and helplessness... She no longer saw the faces of her colleagues, and did not hear their screams and laughter. She did not notice her left breast, which was once again exposed.
"Zhanka, answer! Hit him in the face!" - encouraged Alexandra, and several other onlookers, afraid that the show was over.
And, clenching her fists, Zhanna, with a wild cry, rushed at Ekaterina again. The girl's bloody face was distorted with anger, her breath whistled out through her chipped teeth. Jumping up to Katya, Zhanna, with a heavy, swinging fist, tried to hit her opponent in the face. Katya was clearly expecting this, ducking under the fist cutting through the air, struck a counter blow to her naked left breast, trying to hit her fist under the nipple - the brunette literally knew with her sixth sense where to hit. Zhanna, with a hoarse cry, recoiled, belatedly clutching her feminine pride. Tears rolled from the girl's eyes, and a second later Zhanna burst into loud sobs. For her, all this happened as if in a dream, she had never received such painful blows to the chest, especially from another woman. Her pride, her weapon, something that many gentlemen dream of touching in vain, her feminine breasts, accustomed exclusively to male caresses and morning massages - now pulsated with unbearable pain. Zhanna, crying, looked around, as if seeking protection from the people around them. Useless. Only a predatory gleam in the eyes of the spectators, laughter, and cries: “That's it! She's gone!”, “Katka, give her another punch in the tits!” They all didn't care that this upstart was beating her, Zhanna. But never mind, she would deal with this bitch herself.
She had not yet realized that she was weaker than her more agile and athletic rival, it seemed to her that just a little more and she would crush and destroy this bitch who dared to stand in her way. Screaming piercingly, she rushed into the attack again.
The girls grabbed each other by the hair again. But their strength was no longer equal. Katya realized her advantage over her rival, and literally felt Zhanna's despair. The brunette stung the blonde with precise blows to the face, while simultaneously hitting her hair, bending her rival's head to the floor. Zhanna, roaring with pain, randomly waving her arms, tried to somehow reach Katya, but the blows of the girl, stunned by pain and rapidly losing strength, could no longer harm her rival.
Katerina bent her opponent down by the hair, lower and lower to the floor. Zhanna's left breast, beginning to turn purple from the trauma of a hard fist blow, hung out of the neckline.
“Tear her udder, Katya!” shouted Alexandra, who was enraged by the sight of the bloody showdown.
Zhanna did not understand the danger and continued to frantically beat Katya wherever she could.
The blonde felt that she was caught when Katya grabbed her treasure with her hand, digging her nails into a large, embossed nipple. Zhanna howled loudly and jerked to the side, grabbing the brunette's hand with both hands. The pain gave Zhanna strength. But Katya was no longer letting go of her victim. She tried to literally rip out her rival's nipple, digging her nails into the tender flesh, tugging at it and twisting her hand from side to side. Blood was already appearing from under Katerina's fingers.
Zhanna howled. The girls seemed to be spinning in a strange dance. The blonde tried to hold Katya's hand, preventing her from making such painful jerks. In addition, Zhanna, breaking her nails, tormented her opponent's hand, tried to straighten her fingers - useless. Suddenly Zhanna changed tactics: freeing her right hand, she immediately put it into action - and a sharp blow to the stomach made Katya scream, allowing Zhanna to raise her head a little. Having repeated the blow to the stomach several times, but with less force, Zhanna wanted to move on to her opponent's face, but then received a stinging, knockout blow between the legs from Katya.
Katerina kicked with the sharp toe of her shoe, which had somehow miraculously remained on her foot. Throwing her right leg forward with all her might, Katya aimed straight at the gap in Zhanna’s trousers, at the bottom of her red lace panties… And, judging by the scream, the blow reached its target. At that moment, the blonde forgot about everything in the world: about her rival, about everything around her, and even about Katya’s hand, still tormenting her chest. Zhanna was left alone with her pain. Her heart-rending scream rang out only two seconds later. Zhanna’s hands, having let go of her rival, darted to her own crotch in an attempt to cover themselves, but it was too late, the girl missed the blow.
Katerina, unable to keep her balance after the blow, instinctively jerked her hand and, tearing her opponent's nipple with her claws, plopped down on the floor. As if from far away, she heard Alexandra's delighted squeal: "Got it! She got Zhanka's cxnt with her foot!"
Zhanna, continuing to scream hysterically, took a few steps to the side and spun around in place, clutching her crotch with her hands. She screamed terribly, it seemed the blow from the shoe had reached the most intimate part. Blood flowed from the blonde's torn nipple, falling in large drops onto the dirty dance floor boards. Zhanna slowly sank to the floor, her screams giving way to sobbing.
Katya was in shock, as if in a dream she was looking at her bloody hand with broken nails, then she turned her cloudy gaze to her bloody opponent shaking and sobbing. She couldn't believe that it was all over.
None of the girls wanted a fight, especially such a brutal one. But their hatred was stronger than the veneer of civilization. And when they were left alone to sort things out, the women turned into females. Infinitely cruel and passionately wanting to destroy their rival. As expected, only one of them succeeded.
And those who watched later regretted that "it happened that way", but they were lying. When they pitted each other against the other and watched, they too turned into someone for that time.
