It’s Saturday afternoon at Bad Behaviour Tower’s I’m feeling catty, I have an itch I need to scratch. Or perhaps I should say there is a face I need to scratch and I don’t really care whose it is. I lick my luscious red lips slowly and smile to myself as I open my apartment front door, I step over the threshold and drop a single red rose on the floor outside my apartment. Cooly I spin on my boots heel and head back to my living room, the sound of clicking on my wooden floors as I head inside makes me smile even more. Eventually I collapse in to the soft folds of my favourite leather armchair and I cross my legs.
It doesn’t take too long before I hear the sound of heels walking down the corridor from my apartments front door to my living room. You see that’s the great thing about living at Bad Behaviour Tower’s…you can always find a catfight. But today I wonder just how many of us girls will be fighting at the same time? Whose woman enough to join the catfight party?
Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long, at last some random slut has arrived. Swivelling my chair from left to right, I look directly in your eyes and say:
“Heh Bitch! Here for a catfight?”
Yt
(Rules: no eye gouging or pussy mauling. Otherwise it’s every woman for herself - if you start to fight and then don’t post for three days, you will be written out of the story. Oh and no spam posting, just post once and wait for a response before posting again. Eliminations will come in the form of either a knockout or a participant concedes to a rival that she is the better woman.)
Now then…let’s see how long this little war can last and whose woman enough to join in?
