Backfire

**Catwacher** · January 19th, 2008, 06:10 PM

Posting another story from my collection. I do not have the author of this one, but thank him or her just the same.

And many thanks to our hostess Rachel for giving us a place to play.

Cat [img]graemlins/cat.gif[/img]

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NOTICE: THIS STORY CONTAINS VIOLENCE, NUDITY AND ADULT LANGUAGE. IT IS
INTENDED FOR AUDIENCES AGES 18 AND OLDER. THE CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS;
ANY SIMILARITY TO PERSONS LIVING OR DEAD IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

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BACKFIRE

Brooke Flethcher took her time as she drove home from the airport. She had dropped off her husband just in time to catch his plane to New York for a three day business trip, and, now that he was gone, Brooke was
wondering what she was going to do with her time while he was away. She realized she should do something constructive with her time, but she hadn't had much of an opportunity lately to just lie around the house, pamper herself, and numb her mind with pulp fiction and old movies. So,
after a brief guilt trip, Brooke decided that she would spend her evening curled up on the couch with a box of Oreo cookies, the remote control, and that interesting looking spy novel she had bought three weeks ago but hadn't touched since.

As Brooke pulled into her driveway, she noticed a black Nissan 300ZX parked on the street in front of her house. The car looked familiar, and Brooke finally realized it belonged to Connie Moore. Brooke looked toward the car and then toward the front of her house, but Connie was nowhere in sight.

Connie Moore was a fellow employee of Brooke's at the marketing firm where
Brooke had been working for about three years. Connie started with the company at about the same time as Brooke, and they both held the same title, Assistant Director of Advertising. The head of their department was retiring soon, and Brooke and Connie were widely regarded as the two
most likely candidates to fill the director's position.

Connie had made a point of being particularly unfriendly toward Brooke, and she had gone out of her way on more than one occasion to try to make Brooke look bad. Fortunately, Brooke was fairly shrewd in her own right, and, so far, had been able to take care of herself. She didn't really hate Connie (although Connie had made it clear she hated Brooke), but she
definitely didn't like her either.

Brooke pulled into the garage, got out of her car, and went into the house through the door leading in from the garage. As she walked in the kitchen and looked through the archway into the den, she saw Connie standing in front of the fireplace. Connie was wearing a purple silk blouse, black miniskirt and black high heels. Most of her dark hair was pulled back and up toward the top of her head, but a few indidvidual strands were left loose and dangled at her athletic shoulders. She had on heavy charcoal eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and deep red lipstick. Brooke suspected that Connie was on her way out for a night on the town, some heavy drinking, and probably cheap sex with some man she would pick up at a night club.

Brooke pulled off her black leather jacket and threw it across the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Connie was holding a freshly lit cigarette and was beginning to blow out her first puff of smoke as Brooke walked toward the den. Connie tilted her head upward and slightly to the side as she forced a long, billowing stream of cigarette smoke through her
pursed lips. When she finished, she curled her mouth in a wicked grin and said, "I hope you don't mind me dropping by like this. I was on my way out to celebrate, and I just thought I'd drop by to give you the news."

Brooke kicked off her hiking boots and untucked her white cotton shirt from the waistband of her blue denim miniskirt at the same time. Finally turning her attention to Connie, she brushed a lock of curly blonde hair away from her face and said, "Oh? What news is that?"

Connie replied eagerly, "Well, I found out today that I'm going to be the new director of the department beginning in two weeks. I know that's bad news for you because you were up for the job too. I guess they just
figured you weren't a good risk."

Brooke's mind was reeling from the news. What did Connie mean by "not a good risk?" And how could they pick Connie instead of her?

By now, Connie was looking for an ash tray. Not finding one, she nonchalantly grabbed a framed picture of Brooke from the mantel of the fireplace and, holding the frame in one hand, extinguished her cigarette by mashing it against Brooke's picture. Brooke's mind was still racing
from trying to process Connie's announcement about the dirrector's job,
but the insult was not totally lost on her.

Finally, Brooke was able to speak, "Why would they pick you, Connie? I mean, good grief, you don't know your ass from a hole in the ground."

Connie's grin widened even more as she explained, "Well, I may not know my ass from a hole in the ground, buth I do know where my ass is, I know how to shake it, and I know who to shake it for. That's one reason I got the job.. The other reason is your...problem."

"My what?" Brooke replied.

"You know, your drinking problem," Connie said smugly. " I filled out an
application for Alcoholics Anonymous--in your name--and made sure it was found in your out box. As soon as the promotions committee found out that you were going to AA...well, I guess their choice was easy then, wasn't it?"

Brooke was furious, but she controlled her rage. This bitch had done it to her again, and this was the last straw. It was time she played her trump card and taugt Connie a lesson in the process. She had to in order to protect her career. She didn't really care about the director's
position as long as she could continue doing the work she liked, but she would not take orders from Connie. The thought of taking orders from that conniving, scheming bitch made her sick, but she remained calm because she still had cards of her own to play.

Connie began explaining how things would be under her imminent reign.

Connie gloated, "I guess I'm your boss now, and I could fire you if I wanted. But I don't think I'll fire you right away. I believe I'll let you kiss my ass and brown-nose for a couple of weeks. And then I'll fire your fat ass." Connie laughed in Brooke's face as she finished her speech.

After Connie finished her taunting, Brooke calmly looked Connie straight in the eyes, and with a firm and even voice she said, "You know, Connie, I'm fed up with you. I could take you for a while. But now, you've fucked with me one time too many. So beginning today, we play by a new
set of rules."

Connie interrupted, "You fucking bitch, I think I might just go ahead and fire you right now."

"That wouldn't be wise," Brooke quipped, "because you're not in a position
to do any firing."

A puzzled look began to creep over Connie's face.

Brooke continued, "You got the job by playing dirty, and you've got to pay for that. From now on, I make the rules and give the orders, and here's the reason why. You made up some dirt on me, but I've got some real dirt on you, and I've been just waiting for the right time to use it. I know that four years ago you were convicted of embezzlement and that you're
still on probation. If that ever got out, you'd surely get fired. And with some of the things you've done, like falsifying that AA application, you might have even violated your probation. Then, you'd have to go to jail, wouldn't you? Either way, your ass would be history."

Connie's face began to show signs of irritation and the growing realization that her plans were being destroyed by Brooke. Connie had underestimated Brooke badly, and her plans had now backfired in spite of
her dirty tricks. "You can't do this to me. You bitch!" Connie screamed.

"But I can, and I will. So here are the new rules. Your resignation will be on the director's desk first thing tomorrow morning. Otherwise, I disclose your little problem with the law. Understand?" Brooke asked.

"You wouldn't," Connie sneered, but it was clear from the expression on her face that she knew Brooke meant what she said. Brooke sensed that she was pushing all the right buttons with Connie, that she could provoke Connie if she continued, and that was fine with her. The more Brooke
thought about Connie and all the trouble she had caused over the last three years, the more Brooke hoped that Connie would resort to physical violence and strike the first blow. That would give Brooke an excuse to really teach Connie the kind of lesson she wanted to teach her.

Brooke continued, "You know, Connie, you've screwed around with too many people's lives, and now you've got to pay for it. Plus, you've got a bad attitude, and you need to learn a little respect. So I'm going to teach you a little respect, and your education starts today."

With that statement, Connie's temper reached a boiling point. She rushed
toward Brooke, who was now standing in front of the fireplace. As Connie
came within three to four feet of Brooke, she drew back her right hand and
screamed, "I'm going to beat the shit out of you, you fucking bitch!"

Connie brought her right hand around in a wild swing at Brooke's head.

Brooke ducked and easily avoided the blow. Realizing she had missed, Connie brought her right hand back around in a backhand swing at Brooke's head, but Brooke easily dodged that blow as well. As Connie was still in the process of regaining her balance, Brooke moved in and punched Connie
in the stomach with her fight fist. Connie doubled over from the first blow, and Brooke continued to pound Connie's stomach with her right hand while holding Connie's shoulder with her left. Connie grunted and her face contorted in pain with each blow to her stomach. Brooke began to grow wet between the legs as she looked into Connie's eyes and saw the pain of each punch to the gut reflect itself in Connie's face.

After several blows to the stomach, Brooke gave Connie a punch to the cheek with her right fist, then followed with a left to the point of Connie's chin. Another right cross sent Connie reeling across the den
toward the archway. Connie caught herself by reaching for the wall, and, after reorienting herself, she headed down the hallway toward the front door. Brooke yelled after her, "Don't leave so soon. The fun's not over yet."

Connie reached for the front door, but before she could turn the knob, Brooke caught her from behind and spun her around by the left shoulder. Brooke failed to anticipate that Connie would come around swinging, and Connie's right fist connected firmly with the left side of Brooke's head.
Brooke was momentarily dazed by the blow, and Connie used the opportunity to go on the offensive. She delivered three punches in quick succession to Brooke's flat stomach, causing the tall blonde to double over reflexively. Connie grabbed two handfuls of Brooke's blonde tresses and
held Brooke's head down as she brought her knee up into Brooke's face.

The blow sent Brooke staggering backwards into a corner of the hallway.

Feeling a surge of confidence and bravado because of her recent success, Connie moved in for what she thought would be the kill. "How do you like that, you little cunt? It'll take a whole hell of a lot more woman than you to beat me," Connie taunted.

Connie's smug grin quickly changed to a look of concern when Brooke straightened herself and glared at the advancing Connie, stopping the tall brunette in her tracks. The expression on Brooke's face was a bizarre combination of seething fury, calm determination, and hungry anticipation
of what she intended to do to Connie. Connie stopped a few feet away from
Brooke and assessed her blonde foe.

Finally, after a few seconds of intense silence, Connie grunted "You fucking bitch!" as she delivered a roundhouse right into Brooke's jaw.

Brooke's head snapped to the side, but she was unfazed. Connie was surprised the blow didn't have more impact, so she tried again with a roundhouse left. Again, she connected squarely, but Brooke remained
unaffected. Connie's smug grin was now completely gone, replaced by a mask of frustration and desperation, but Brooke's face was creased with a wicked smile.

Connie threw a wild right fist at Brooke's head. Brooke blocked the blow by grabbing Connie's fist with her left hand. Still holding Connie's fist with her left hand, Brooke delivered a series of punishing blows to Connie's midsection with her right. Brooke could sense that she was
beginning to wear Connie down more and more with each punch, and victory was now in sight.

Connie finally was able to grab Brooke by the shoulders and push her away
momentarily. Connie headed down the hallway with Brooke close behind. As
they neared the end of the hallway, Connie reached her left hand out behind her to try to keep Brooke away. Brooke grabbed hold of Connie's left arm and twisted it behind her back. In this control position, Brooke
slammed Connie face first into the wall, still holding Connie's arm behind her back. While Brooke had her quarry in this position, she gave the brunette a couple of punches, and then a knee, to the lower back.

Brooke then pushed Connie into the master bedroom and let go of her arm. As Connie turned around in front of the bedpost, she drew back her right hand to take a swing at Brooke as she entered the room. Brooke saw the punch coming and easily blocked it with her left arm. Still holding Connie's right hand with her left, Brooke began to pummel Connie's stomach again. After three or four blows to Connie's midsectionn, Brooke lowered her shoulder and pushed Connie backwards until she was straddling the
bedpost. Brooke positioned the dazed Connie, who was still clutching her
stomach, so that the small rounded top of the bedpost came right up between the brunette's legs toward her anus. Satisfied that Connie was in proper position, Brooke stood up, placed her hands on Connie's shoulders, and forcefully pushed Connie down until she was impaled by the bedpost.

Connie's mouth gaped open and her eyes bulged in pain as she gasped, "Oh shit!! My ass!!"

Brooke looked into Connie's eyes as she grimaced in pain. Brooke liked what she saw, and with all the trouble Connie had caused for her and other people, she felt totally justified in what she was doing. Connie did deserve to be taught a lesson, and she had started this encounter by
taking the first swing. Brooke lifted Connie up off the bedpost ever so
slightly and paused for a moment. Connie begged, "Please, not again."

But Brooke ignored Connie's plea and pushed her down again on the the bedpost so that it put direct pressure on Connie's asshole and would have actually penetrated her if not for her pantyhose being in the way.

Again, Connie winced in pain as she was impaled on the bedpost.

Brooke finally turned loose of Connie's shoulders, and the tall brunette
gingerly removed herself from the bedpost. Connie began backing away from Brooke along the foot of the bed, rubbing her rear end with both hands as she staggered backwards. As a result, Connie's face was totally unprotected when Brooke delivered a high kick to the face that sent Connie
reeling across the room, blood now oozing in a small but steady stream from her broken nose.

Connie staggered momentarily and then regained her balance in the middle of the floor facing away from the bed. Brooke circled Connie and came to a stop in front of her groggy foe.

Connie muttered, "You bitch," as she took a wild swing at Brooke with her right hand. Brooke easily dodged the blow and answered with at least a dozen punches to Connie's stomach. The quickness of the blows combined with Connie's grunts of pain created the illusion of the sound of large
machinery. Convinced that Connie had been softened up in the middle, Brooke began punishing Connie with a series of blows to the face. Brooke would strike with her right hand in a forehand swing, and then bring the same hand back around for a backhand blow. Connie grew more dazed--and
Brooke's smile grew wider--with each blow.

In all, Connie took more than a dozen blows before Brooke finally paused.

"Come on," Brooke said as she grabbed Connie's now bloody blouse collar with her left hand, "it's time to finish you off."

By now, Connie was quite groggy and was having a difficult time keeping her balance. Her ankles began to waver above the points of her high heels, and she would not have been able to stay on her feet without Brooke holding her up. Brooke steadied Connie with her left hand, looked the moaning brunette in the eyes and said, "This is for fucking with me." And
then she punched Connie in the jaw hard with her right fist. The blow knocked Connie loose from Brooke's grasp for a brief moment, but before Connie could fall, Brooke grabbed her by the blouse collar and steadied her again.

Brooke then said, "This is for fucking with my job." With that statement, she punched Connie again with her right fist. Again, the blow would have knocked Connie off her feet but for the fact that Brooke continued to hold her by the collar.

Connie was now only semi-conscious, and it took Brooke a few seconds to steady her. Finally, Brooke positioned Connie so she could look her straight in the face. Then, Brooke said coolly as she drew back her fist, "And this, well, this is for being such a fucking bitch!" With all the
power she could muster, Brooke delivered a finishing punch to the side of Connie's jaw. Connie staggered for a brief second, and then sprawled backwards to land on the edge of the bed. As the tall brunette slid
slowly down the side of the bed into a dazed pile on the floor, her glazed eyes looked in the direction of Brooke's smiling face. Brooke relished the sight as Connie's eyes fluttered and then closed as she drifted off into unconsciousness. Brooke had been in a few fights as a young girl, but this was her first knockout.

Brooke stood above Connie's unconscious body and marveled at what she had done to her rival. Until that moment, she hadn't realized she was capable of such physical domination. As she caught her breath, Brooke realized how sexually excited her fight with Connie had made her. She had taught this lying, scheming bitch a lesson that would not soon be forgotten, and
she had enjoyed every minute of it. For several minutes, Brooke stood over her vanquished foe, savoring the feeling of victory and vindication that coursed through her body.

EPILOGUE

When Connie awoke about thirty minutes later, she found herself outside on the front porch of Brooke's house. Connie's legs were outstretched in front of her, and her back was propped up against the front door through which she had entered the house--with a much different attitude--earlier in the evening. Connie's head ached, her lips were puffy and sore, dried
blood had accumulated in her nose, and her left eye was swollen almost shut. As she grew more alert, Connie realized that she had been stripped totally naked. Her large, round breasts were resting uncovered on her upper abdomen, and her dark-haired pussy was sticking out toward the street for all the world to see. Although the night sky had darkened, the porch light shone on Connie like a spotlight. Connie frantically scanned the area and discovered that Brooke had left her clothing and purse in a pile at the edge of the porch.

Dragging herself to her feet, Connie
quickly scooped up her things and hurried home, defeated. It would be morning soon, and she had only a few hours to turn in her letter of resignation.