Preeti's Corporate Restructure

Preeti sat in her grimy little room and struggled once again to understand how she'd gone from a haughty high flying future executive at a multi-national corporation to a penniless skank sucking on a joint and wondering exactly where the next month's rent was gonna come from.

The weed leant a not unpleasant haze to her painfully recollected memories. It was a muggy hot June afternoon and the lack of air conditioning or even a fucking hand-fan had resulted in Preeti being flopped out stoned on her single bed wearing nothing but a frayed red satin thong and a pair of white nylon ankle socks emblazoned with pictures of Batman.

Ah...the stupid fucking Batman socks...

An odd remnant of the life she once lived. It was ironic that knickers and socks were among the few things that she still owned from before the fall. Everything else had been sold by her or stolen by the shady characters who resided in the nooks and crannies of her shared shit-hole abode. No matter how far you fall, old knickers and socks prove hard to shift.

Bare light brown flesh glistened with sweat. Two dark nippled little mounds lolled lazily. A chest long bereft of the wondrous support garments she'd once strapped on daily. Her rapid weight gain over the past year had ironically added a little to a rack that she'd always considered lacking. The chubby belly, thong enveloping love handles, corpulent booty and chunky thighs the result of dining on cheap takeaway fried chicken, frozen chicken nuggets, cheap white bread and Lambrini. Preeti could never have previously imagined that being poor could result in weight gain rather than weight loss.

There was no lock on the door of her closet sized room, therefore anyone could've burst in to take a look at the stoned, semi-nude British born Indian woman in her late twenties. Once upon a time she would've been mortified at the prospect, but most of her co-habitees had seen it all before anyway...The locks on the two bathroom doors were long ago destroyed and quickly after moving in Preeti had realised that nobody respected the sanctity of the shared bathrooms.

The loft apartment in upmarket East London...

Had she really lived there a little over a year ago? All on her own? Wow. Even then it was a little out of Preeti's price range, but her credit was good until she made executive. Well that was the plan anyway. To pay back the debt and move into profit. Executive after the restructure and then there was the likely possibility of a transfer to New York. All of her dreams come true.

Once upon a time Preeti had foregone further education to get her foot on the first rung of the corporate ladder. Office junior at sixteen. Secretary at eighteen. Inducted into the management trainee scheme at twenty. Preeti had excelled year after year. Inching up the hierarchy floor by floor on her way to the Executive Boardroom. It helped that a middle-aged executive named Owen Laymon had seen promise in Preeti early on and taken her under his wing. He recognised an ambitious, hard-working, charismatic and refreshingly cut-throat young woman who he could sculpt into a powerful follower and help guide to the top. In return he expected nothing more than absolute loyalty. At twenty five it seemed inevitable that Preeti would soon become a fully-fledged executive.

Yet Owen wasn't Preeti's only admirer. Her future success could only reflect well on the company. A second generation Indian daughter of shop-keepers who had left school at sixteen and found herself embraced by the company. Preeti was a pretty, ethnic, elegantly suited and booted photo opportunity who could talk the talk and walk the walk. Never mind her occasionally bad decision making or the frequent accusations of bullying made against her. All of that was conveniently explained away as a passionate (if youthfully inexperienced...) seizing of initiative. And nobody ever made it to the top without ruffling the feathers of a few underlings...

Preeti's left foot itched as a fat buzzing bluebottle crawled along the ripe nyloned arch of her foot. And once again her eye was drawn back to...the socks.

X

It had all started with a flippant insult tossed in the general direction of an overly attentive middle-aged Dyke. A work party in a particularly swanky Soho bar on the eve of the restructuring interviews. It had the feel of a send-off for most of those present. The majority would lose their jobs and be tossed into the competitive London job market. Many would find themselves slipping down the trough, but a few were on track to make huge gains. Preeti had been firmly assured that she was to be among the latter.

So despite having the inside track on the likelihood of her own career advancement, Preeti still worked the room like a pro. She flitted around, easing herself into the conversations of all who resided above her within the company structure. Brusque politeness was reserved for all those deemed lesser than her and outright ignorance of anybody she didn't recognise. But that mannish bore just wouldn't stop buzzing around her! Offering drinks. Asking questions. Eyeing her equine Indian features and big brown eyes way too desperately...Preeti could also sense the Dyke gazing at her big booty every time her back was turned. All of the money that she spent on expensive trousers-suits tailored to somehow diminish the bulbous impact of the big ass that nature cursed her with, and some anonymous old lesbian was just openly staring at it!

At the end of her rope, Preeti moved in close and uttered the line that sealed her fate.

"Leave me the fuck alone you ancient Dyke nobody. Your breath really stinks. I suggest you disappear and deal with it."

Then she was off again. Smiling wide. Looking for somebody infinitely more important to talk to. A skip in her step and a flute of bubbly in hand.

Preeti recalled being slightly hungover when she awaited the interview on the morning after the party. Everybody in her department was waiting to re-interview for mostly lesser positions. Preeti smiled knowingly as the assholes she managed waited nervously. Yes, she would be losing her job...only to ascend to an executive position in the boardroom!

A little trepidation was experienced when Preeti discovered that the panel would interview the applicants in pairs. She'd been inexplicably paired up with a woman named Harmony. The late thirty-something African heifer was located well down the trough in Preeti's department. She was the type who applied for each and every position regardless of whether or not she had the ability to actually do the job. And in Preeti's opinion the elephant of a woman was barely equipped to do her own semi-secretarial job, let alone manage the department! Her heavily accented English continually grated on Preeti, evoking both disgust and cruel humor. So despite knowing that the fix was in, the anomaly caused butterflies to flutter as Preeti and Harmony were called first...

Preeti strutted purposefully into the room ahead of her colleague. She wore an elegant pin-stripe trouser suit over a silk lilac shirt, coupled with a white silk tie. The spike heels of her pointed stiletto boots clip-clopped on the marble floor of the entranceway. Her long glossy black hair was up and her face painted. Big brown eyes sat atop a prominent nose and a mouthful of dazzling white teeth. It was actually an artificial Snap-On smile, but it would have to do until she'd earned enough money to fix her teeth properly. Preeti's slightly asymmetrical features meant that she was no conventional beauty, but she'd always made up for any perceived aesthetic failings with charisma and sex appeal. Harmony however...

Preeti looked her African rival up and down with barely concealed disdain.

A garish summer dress, fat serpentine braids and a big pouting smile. Harmony was big all over and dwarfed her manager as they came to a halt side by side in the boardroom. Strangely, all of the usual furniture had been removed from the impressive room. Only a long thin desk sat before the floor to ceiling window. This left an expanse of light blue carpet that was ordinarily filled with a much larger boardroom table and all of the usual furnishings that filled the archetypal corporate environment.

Double interviews and now this...

Preeti felt a little bit discombobulated, but she strapped on a good humored, yet determined smile and swept her gaze across the panel. All good humor and determination evaporated as Preeti caught a glimpse of the trio of executives sat behind the long thin desk. Owen Layman slouched sheepishly on the left and Jessica Northman (a forty something senior executive who had always supported Preeti's ascendency, even if she didn't really like the young upstart) sat blank faced on the right. And sat in the middle...Preeti gasped as all composure fled. Sat in the middle and grinning like a particularly dykey devil was the repulsive sex pest that Preeti had brutally rebuked the night before.

Preeti felt weak at the knees and nauseous as she came to a halt alongside Harmony before the interview panel.

"Hello ladies?" Said the Lesbian.

Each of the applicants responded with starkly contrasting levels of enthusiasm. Owen cleared his throat and cast forlorn eyes over Preeti. Word of her antics from the evening before had clearly found their way back to her mentor.

"Let me introduce the pair of you to the head of this interview panel. You may have met her at the bar last night, but I'd like to formerly introduce Robin Stark, the new corporate director of International Operations. She'll be coordinating this restructure of the London office."

Preeti felt sick. Career suicide had been committed. She was already dead girl walking. How could anything be salvaged? Robin Stark! The mysterious Robin Stark that had been touted as the all-powerful, omnipotent axe 'man' of the international set-up!? Preeti had always assumed that the dreadful and enigmatic company bogeyman from the states was exactly that...a man!

Robin is a guy's name! She bleated inwardly. Was she really the butch lesbian that she'd flippantly insulted!? Get the fuck outa here!!

Preeti focused on the carpet in horror, as Robin stood and smiled sardonically.

"Harmony and Preeti. The competent journey-woman and the young trailblazer. Both of you are here to fight it out for one job. A job that you are both capable of, but there can be only one victor. These painful restructures are never easy, but they are necessary if the company is to continue to move forward. And I like to think that they give people the chance to really strip away the corporate bullshit and fight for what they want. So for that reason I've decided to let the pair of you do that...literally.'

Owen shook his head infinitesimally while Jessica gazed ahead seemingly frozen.

"You want this job then you'll have to fight for it. No punching or kicking of course, just slapping, grappling and...stripping. I want to see the strong dominate the weak. Prove to me that you've got what it takes to battle for what is rightfully yours! The loser will be the first of you to end up beaten and stripped on this boardroom carpet. Don't worry about socks or stockings, but everything else must go. The winning applicant who holds aloft the losers panties will manage the department and get a corresponding pay rise. And the loser...The loser will either find herself out of a job or demoted to a more fitting position. This position will depend on the effort that the loser puts into battle."

Preeti actually laughed out loud, so sure was she that an elaborate practical joke was being played.

Fighting?! Stripping?! Knickers as trophies?!

'"This is a joke right?" Preeti gazed at Owen, half expecting her mentor to crack a grin. Mirth was not forthcoming."

"No, it is not Preeti." Robin gleefully replied on behalf of her shrunken underling.

"Although it should certainly be entertaining and this ancient dyke is certainly looking forward to it."

Preeti wilted and turned to Robin. An ass-kissing apology was needed. Preeti just needed a second or two to formulate it into words.

SLAP!!

The meaty blow from the right loudly slammed into Preeti's left cheek and lifted her entirely from her booted feet. Harmony had delivered an open handed slap, but Preeti felt as if she'd been hit by a bus. Stars flashed aloft as she lay dazed on the carpeted floor.

Harmony loomed over her. A look on her face of grim determination laced with bovine stupidity. Yes, she was barely competent at her job and yes, the younger woman could run rings around her in the workplace, but unfortunately for Preeti, Harmony was a physical Behemoth compared to the other women in the office. On the precipice of morbid obesity, her heaving titties and humongous ass were matched only by her thick arms and powerful thighs.

It took moments for Preeti to realise that her Snap-On Smile had been literally smacked out of her mouth. But by the time that humiliating understanding was reached, her first move was to shamefully cover her real exposed, askew and slightly coffee stained teeth.

'My fucking teeth...' She sobbed and moved sluggishly to look for her snap on smile. Before she could get anywhere the big African woman grasped her booted ankles and twisted Preeti around. Face ground into the blue carpet, her mask of expensive cosmetics was immediately smudged away. The cuffs of her flared pants rode up to her knee's to reveal her bare brown legs, the top of her stiletto ankle boots and (most embarrassingly) the tops of her socks poking from the elegant boots. Images of Batman were emblazoned upon the cheap, white, nylon socks. But it was only when the Behemoth unzipped and wrenched off the left boot that Preeti's own thoughts turned to her disastrous sock choice that morning.

The cheap department store ankle socks had been randomly purchased amongst a pile of discounted hosiery in her local store. At the time she'd mused that the socks were 'cute' and 'nerdy'. They'd then been tossed in her sock drawer and rarely worn since.

Slightly hungover that morning and low on clean (sober...) black ankle socks or more formal nylon knee highs, Preeti had absentmindedly pulled on the caped crusader socks, idly reasoning that her colleagues were unlikely to see the colourful hosiery beneath her expensive boots. How wrong she had been...

"Fucking stop!" She cried in horror as her sweaty socked foot was revealed to the interview panel. Undeterred by the water-works a grunting Harmony kneeled painfully on Preeti's back, pinning the flailing lil Indian girl to the floor. Glossy black hair was unleashed from where it had been stylishly piled atop Preeti's head all morning. Big, sandpaper hands delved deep into the department head's artificial mane and a tearing rip resounded.

"Owwwww! No! Stop!" Screamed Preeti as her former underling began ripping the glossy, lustrous hair extensions from her head! For the first time Preeti showed that she had a little physical fight in her and actually succeeded in dislodging the knee and climbing to her hands and knees. But this did little more than provide a greater view of the fake hair settling in clumps on the carpet around her. Harmony was nothing if not persistent and it took little time for the bigger woman to wrench almost all of the fake hair from Preeti's greatly diminished mane. The artificial fringe was the last to go, leaving Preeti bewildered and beaten with a straggly, shapeless black bob missing those all-important bangs. Her hair had always been thin and lacking in 'impact', so Preeti had allowed the stylist to go 'all out' in shaping her hair around having copious extensions. Unfortunately, this meant that her natural hair appeared something of freakish mess when all of those artificial locks had been ripped away. Harmony finally relented and climbed from the crawling, sobbing woman she'd once answered to.

"M-m-my fucking hair. W-w-what have you done!?" Whined Preeti as her hands bizarrely sought to cover her exposed prominent forehead.

Rather than answer, Harmony proceeded to violently wrench on Preeti's expensive suit jacket. Such was the force involved that the expensive garment promptly split up the back on the way to being pulled from Preeti's squirming torso. Her arms were necessarily yanked forwards as the jacket was pulled away. This caused Preeti to slump face first on the boardroom carpet yet again. The rough treatment doled out to the upper half of her outfit also resulted in the billowing lilac shirt becoming untucked from her trousers and bunching up just below her ribcage. With high-waisted trousers and soft brown belly exposed, Preeti whimpered and reached down in a bid to cover her bare flesh.

The sudden sound of a zip and the corresponding easing of the pressure around Preeti's waist alerted the disgraced (former?) department head to an even worst development.

She gasped and bucked with renewed vigor as the zip on the rear of her flared suit trousers parted. The move immediately resulted in the splayed pants parting to reveal that big brown booty of which Preeti was so ashamed. Unfortunately, shame hadn't prevented her from splaying said booty with a crack hugging white lace thong that morning...

"No! Fucking hell! No!"

Preeti scrambled forward wildly on hands on knees. Ironically this panicked motion actually contributed to the loose trousers drooping down just south of her butt cheeks.

"Where do you think you're going little girl?" Harmony theatrically intoned in her heavily accented voice.

"Let me take off those big ladies trousers for you..."

And with that Harmony grabbed the flared cuffs and pulled them from the legs of the futilely fleeing young woman with ease.

"Oh my fucking god!" Realizing that her thong splayed butt was being displayed to all and comprehending the utter uselessness of crawling around on the boardroom floor after losing her trousers, Preeti turned and quickly sat up. She pulled in her bare legs in the hope of at least reducing some of the bare flesh on show. Yet there really wasn't much more dignity in taking such a pose.

With a decimated mop of destroyed hair, a puffy face bereft of make-up and moistened by tears, a mouthful of ordinarily hidden crooked teeth, a torn lilac shirt that looked suddenly oversized, a silly loose white tie, a tiny white thong, a pair of foolish little Batman nylon socks with one single remaining high-heeled stiletto boot, Preeti looked like some hungover skank who'd awoken stripped and bewildered in a strangers room. The shirt in-particular looked like some guy's attire that she'd swiftly pulled on to cover herself up.

This afforded Preeti a good look at the interview panel as they gazed down at her from behind the long imposing desk.

Robin grinned diabolically. Her eyes alight. Preeti knew right then that this was about more than just revenge. The butch bitch glowed damn near orgasmic. She feasted on Preeti's debasement and humiliation. If one thing was for certain it was that she sure had fucked with the wrong company dyke...

Regardless of how repulsive Preeti had considered Robin to be, she was mercenary enough to have given her pussy up to the predatory lesbian without a second thought if it meant getting the job she wanted or avoiding her very public disgrace. Unfortunately, it was far too late for that.

Preeti then chanced a look at her more familiar superiors. Owen sat covering his smirking mouth with one hand. The wide, unblinking eyes did nothing to fool Preeti. She saw mock horror laced with humor. Perhaps that smirk was an instinctive reaction to witnessing such an embarrassing spectacle, but this did nothing to lessen the sense of betrayal felt by his one-time protégé.