What goes around cums around... part 1

[romanticjock]

Hey all, got my latest story here for you today. As always, first, this is a work of violent fiction, and while certain elements hold a basis in real life, this never happened like it has been written, but it?s fun to read, eh? Also, I know I take a bit of time to get to the actual fight, but I like a good background to get a real feel for the character?s and how their imagined past actions play into their written development, so if your really don;t like to read, hang in there?

I?ve always believe that in life what goes around comes around and you get to reap whatever injustices you suffered eventually. For instance, when I got laid off a few years ago due to some bullshit about ?budget cuts? (some middle management BS while I noticed my boss? paychecks were steadily climbing?), I didn?t get mad at all. Instead, I took the knowledge I gained at that company to invent a communications widget that took the functions of 3 different companies? components, combined them, and made the whole process faster and more streamlined, easier to install, and then made the whole thing for about half the cost of the lowest current component price. A major telecommunications company saw what I had accomplished, offered me a percentage of the company profits from any growth my widget might bring, and a base grant in the tens of millions of dollars to license it to them exclusively for 2 years, after which I could market it around to the others. The company promptly used it to corner the market in 5G phone and wifi mobility markets, increasing their total company profits by 157%, and making me a very rich, and some would say, powerful man, since I could control whether some of the other companies survived or went broke if I didn?t license it to them. Some I did, some I didn?t, mostly the ones that made the mistake of thinking because of my age (under 30), I was the lackey or secretary to the real power shaker. I had had enough of that shit to last me a lifetime. So to bring the morel full circle, when it came time for me to expand to meet manufacturing demand for all the widgets I was going to sell to the rest of the companies, I chose to go back to the company that laid me off, buy it out, fire everyone above foreman there, and reorganize it as I saw fit. The day I showed up with a bunch of ex-military bodyguards to break the news to my old managers that they were fired was a moment I will treasure for the rest of my life?

In keeping with this, I now had enough money that I could do whatever I wanted or desired. Since I have a catfight/sexfight fetish, I decided to indulge that to a very full extent. I sponsored private matches, videos, tournaments, even had what you might call a stable or harem of fighters for a bit, but that was a bit hard to handle and another story. Eventually, my interest became well known enough in certain circles to be invited into a very exclusive fight club. The location always changed, and could even be on different continents depending on the mood of the members, but everyone attending made a mostly regular occurrence to be there every month. Birds of a feather, I suppose?

The purpose of this club was, ostensibly, to promote different kinds of live fights among the members? women, or even men, if the situation called for it. There were a few closet lesbians, gays and bisexuals among the elite, and as long as you kept a live and let live policy, everything went fine. And the club went to various lengths to ensure that everything went smoothly, if at least for courtesy?s sake. One of the ways this was achieved was that every sponsor?s identity was supposed to remain hidden by wearing full face masks and using pseudonyms. Oh sure, you could probably figure who each person was by the other physical features, or the partner they were with, as a few of them brought their wives to fight, but it was considered bad form to mention that you knew who was the sponsor under the mask. There were tales of some former members with poor taste mentioning this to other members outside certain circles, or even outsiders, and never being allowed back, or worse, never being heard from again?

So at my initial introduction to the club, and not knowing the proper intro or attire, I arrived dressed to the nines, the only incongruent aspect being the full face blue luchador mask I was wearing. Stepping in and getting to the main floor, I could see that I was actually almost spot-on in my attire. Virtually all the men were wearing some kind of full face mask, and while some of them were slumming it in Hawaiian shirts or silk robes, most were in decent enough clothing that you might find at a normal dinner party. The only difference was the women, they were not required to disguise themselves at all, in fact they were flaunting what they had. Almost all of them were dressed to the nines in some way, with some of the older women wearing fancy ballroom dresses, some of the younger ones wearing clubbing outfits, while majority of the rest were wearing a variation of a fancy black cocktail dress, the only exception being the ones either in the nude or with only body paint on. I saw more than one of those with what looked like an oil sheik in a ski mask.

?Ah, wonderful, I am glad you decided to make it, please come in, I will be your guide for the night,? I heard a voice behind me say. Turning, I found Mr. E, my guide to the club in a full motorcycle helmet with tinted visor and voice modulator. While all the club members were made to at least give lip service to the resemblance of anonymity, Mr. E was really the only one that the other club members I talked to had no clue who really was, and they all liked it that way. The club was Mr. E?s baby, I heard from some of the older members that while he wasn?t a founding member, he definitely made it into the animal it was today, transforming a former swinger?s circle with a penchant for catfights among its members into a suave, sophisticated social group that played host in a number of countries and numbered moguls, politicians, crime bosses, and even royalty among its members. He set up all the gatherings, vetted all the members, and in general arranged everything behind the scenes. Every cabal needed its puppet master, its secret-keeper, and Mr. E was it for this club. It was even rumored that when one gangster member tried to bring a little more of his business into this house of pleasure, Mr. E arranged to have the member quietly unable to make the next gathering. Since then, it had all run exceptionally smoothly, with meetings occurring regularly.

?Glad to finally be here Mr. E, what is on the table for tonight?? I knew the club hosted some special themed public events in the big rooms, along with making available any room or setting possible for reserved fights, some private, some public. One of my sponsoring members fondly remembered a reverse foxy boxing tournament, where the losers kept fighting and losing clothing in the process, and another remembered a dog-collar cage match to settle a family feud. Mr. E smiled.

?Its relatively tame tonight, we have nude muay thai fight between mistresses over who gets new implants, a couple private matches, and a corporate catfight for ascension in the right wing.? Mr. E replied. Hmmm, corporate catfight for ascension? Sounded interesting?

?What are the stakes and background for that corporate catfight? It doesn?t sound like a typical spat between secretaries?? I enquired. Mr. E laughed.

?That?s because it?s not, this is a fight to determine the new vice presidency of a company. A couple of our members are going to merge their companies, and the fight is to see who will get to become the vice president of the company. There are 2 women VPs now for the separate companies, but with both sponsors taking the president and CEO positions, there is only one VP position left, and the club has agreed to let the two vixens fight it out here to determine it,? replied Mr. E.

?Sounds interesting, where is it?? I asked

?Left ballroom, follow me,? Mr. E said, leading me to the correct room. I came into a ballroom set up as if for dancing, judging by the space, chair set up, and the attire of the people in it. I fit into this crowd almost perfectly, as my suit was not too far off from the formal tuxedos most of the guests were wearing. As the final negotiations between sponsors were getting underway, Mr. E kept giving me a play by play of the lead up to this in an undertone. It seemed that this business deal was going to be legally binding, but there was also the conditions of the club to be handled which depended quite a bit on regulating the betting to be settled, and due to the odd nature of this fight, there was a rather steep bet placed by the sponsors for the winner (with a hefty percent going to the house), while the loser got nothing, but could rent out the losing woman afterwards to the spectators to try and recoup some of the cost of the lost bet. The winning woman would become the VP of the new merged company, and the loser would be fucked and demoted to secretary for one or more of the officers of the company. If this was how things got settled at this company, I wouldn?t have wanted to be a secretary in that office on a normal day. I was beginning to warm up to this fight, as it had some real consequences and stakes, with a real prize and motivation, unlike most of typical catspats between secretaries.

As I approached, I could see one of the combatants facing me, a hot little Latina number with curves in all the right places in a tight white bra-less Marilyn Monroe type of dress, stopping about 3 inches above the knee with no back and strips hanging strategically down to cover her boobs, all accessorized with white heels, white stockings, and white opera style gloves. From taking a glance at the other girl?s colors, I gathered that someone wanted to see a variation of Black-and-White fight, with the other outfit mirroring the Latina?s only in black. The Latina?s opponent had her back turned to me, so all I could see was that she had a head of auburn shoulder length hair, was a little skinnier than the Latina, and was also a couple inches taller. Then she turned so I could get a side profile view of her and I let out a little gasp at two things, first that I knew who this other fighter was and second that she had gotten a boob job since then, a very good one.

The woman was an old girlfriend of a good friend of mine. Back when I first started working for those bastards that I ended up firing later, I lived in a small building with a bunch of other people of the same age and point in our careers. One that I eventually became very good friends with was Jay. He lived alone when I first met him but had a gf, Kay. When she graduated from college, she was hurting for money so she moved in with him for a couple of months, looking for a job at the same time I was laid off. We grew pretty close, as Jay had been thru the same thing a few years before and was able to walk us thru the necessary steps. Then one day out of the blue an old fling from college showed up and offered her a job as an officer in the company he was putting together. He already had a client lined up and since the target audience was female, he wanted at least one on his board to show how they understood their customers. Of course Kay said yes, and we were all excited for her, as it was a good opportunity to show what she could do. Well the company caught on like gang-busters, and pretty soon she was literally flying all over the world to do business for it. It didn?t take long for her to get the idea or impression, almost certainly from her ex-fling-now-her-boss, that she was being held back living in a dinky little building with us nobodies and that she could do better ?in more exclusive company?. So she moved back in with her old fling and never looked back, while I had to help pick Jay up out of a bottle more times than I could count after that. Luckily, I was able to get him interested in my widget project and he was able to play a big enough part in it that I agreed to partially finance a low budget film he had written the script for, which he was then able to generate enough excitement from the big studios into full-fledged funding and was even now at this moment on location shooting. And Kay, I never really heard from her again, except a few snippets from some mutual friends to say that she had engineered the takeover of the ex-fling?s company and now was working for an even bigger one, possibly the current one.

Looking at Kay now, I could see why Jay had liked her. She had a body and looks similar to Mila Kunis, only hers was more tan with straighter auburn hair tho they shared the same color and shape of the eyes. She was very fit, as I remember running with her a few times and getting left in the dust more often than I can count, and her bust had been enhanced a bit since I knew her as about a 34C. Not enough to seem garish or stupid, but enough to enhance her chest enough that I realized it was bigger than when I remembered it. Now her eyes were staring ice daggers at the Latina, who looked like she was preparing herself for the fight by taking verbal various swipes at her.

?When I get done with you chica, you are going to wish you had taken that secretary job in the first place!? she taunted, sauntering back and forth in front of the crowd. Kay just stood there, arms crossed in and glaring back at the Latina, head on a swivel, never taking her eyes off her opponent. The men were mostly clustered around two harried looking guys in accounting clothes, the club bookies, mostly watching in silence and occasionally taking a step back and trying to get one of the two?s attention to try and place a bet. The women were even more vocal, either cheering on their friend of shouting insults at their opponent. Mr. E went over to the bookkeepers to see what the spread was on the fight. I stood back watching the display of aggressiveness with mixed feelings. I knew at least one cat in this fight, so that familiarity should lead me to support her, right? But then I remembered the big mess and the insults she made to both of us in parting, and my bros-before-hoes instinct flared back to life, so that when Mr. E came by to tell me what the odds were, I placed a substantial bet on Kay losing to the Latina.

[michalshawn]

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