[Chasmo]

"Why you little brat . . .," raged the vindictive vixen as the now terrified Sharon Miras stopped dead in her tracks and the entire stadium looked on, "you wouldn't even be on that field if your loser of a father wasn't the coach -- do you hear me -- you'd be sitting there next to your overstuffed mother . . ."

But before the next breath left her lips, the length of dental floss reaching between the shiny gold zipper pull on the back of Danielle's tiny black leather shorts on the one hand and the sturdy table she had just marched past on the other, could extend no further and -- to the sweet sound of a loud ziiiiipppppp followed by an even more resounding riiiippppp -- Mrs. Danielle Marie Parnell's very fashionable, very sexy, very short leather pants were torn from her incredibly trim, incredibly well toned waist before being dragged over her perfectly muscled thighs and exquisitely sculpted calves and finally coming to rest as a shredded, useless, mess at her towering high heel encased feet.

After a moment of stunned silence, and as the women in the crowd burst into hysterics and the men collectively groaned while their blood ran rapidly to their nether regions, the once imperious alpha-lawyer stood temporarily terrified in naught but her sky high heels, a very naughty and quite translucent leopard print silk micro-thong -- that left no doubt as to the firmness of her spectacular bottom -- a body hugging white ribbed tank top and her silk leopard print Hermes scarf.

"What happened to my pants," screamed the disgraced diva," oh my God . . . I've . . . I've . . . I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"

Little did Mrs. Parnell know, the real embarrassment had not yet even begun.

As her hands instinctively flew between covering the perfection that was her thong-covered ass and the translucent leopard spotted wisp of silk that was all that separated leering eyes from her completely shaved sex, Danielle's usually facile mind tried desperately to process what had just occurred. Where are my stunning sunglasses? How could my shorts have torn off? And why are these people -- these nobodies -- pointing and laughing at me -- at me! Oh my God, is Will staring at me . . . at my panties . . . and what's that lump in his shorts . . .

Despite having no answers to her own queries, Danielle's instincts told her definitively it was time to flee. But no sooner did she begin her high heeled run to safety than was the soon to be zeta-mom tripped up by the tattered shorts at her feet. As the crowd continued to howl at her humiliation, the once regal uber-milf toppled downward, only adding to the hilarity. To make matters worse -- at least for Mrs. Parnell -- in an attempt to break her fall she grabbed onto the first thing that she saw, which unfortunately for her now catatonic voyeur of a son -- but karmically spectacular for the likes of Hope Solo and Rachel Miras -- was the waistband of Will's tight black gym shorts.

In a scene that would have done Vaudeville proud, and not even a minute after she stood before the crowd as a picture of perfection -- imperiously looking down her nose at the peasants in her midst -- the town's self-appointed Queen Bee found herself on all fours staring slack jawed at the jockstrap covered raging hard-on of the son she had unwittingly teased to distraction.

"W-W-W . . . Will," stammered the undone beauty unable to avert her eyes from the forbidden fruit before her, "stop looking at my b-b-b . . . bottom."

"Mommy," squeaked the usually arrogant jock, trying to shield his quite inappropriate "excitement" from the smaller boys in the crowd who he picked on at school and the girls he had snubbed as "unworthy losers," all of whom were laughing uproariously, "mommy . . . you tore my pants off . . ."

Howling so much it hurt at what had become of the sexy, sophisticated fashionista who for so long treated her and the other soccer moms with disdain, as well as at the fate of her usually conceited but now pant-less son, Rachel Miras -- the very saboteur who began Danielle's epic downfall with a paperclip -- reached down to lend her a genuine hand. In an attempt to evade the grasp of the very woman who now intended to help her, however, Danielle permitted Mrs. Miras to inadvertently grab hold of the collar on the sexy solicitor's tank top. Unfortunately for the increasingly humiliated beauty, her unsuccessful evasive maneuver also caused Rachel Miras to lose her balance and, as the latter fell back into her waiting chair, she tore the fancy shirt from Mrs. Parnell's perfect body leaving her, still on her hands and knees, wearing only high heels and a matching thong and scarf.

Mortified by the sudden loss of her top and almost any remaining modicum of modesty -- and with her formerly imperious smirk replaced by a daffy stare -- Danielle Parnell helplessly watched as a small army of moms and daughters doubled over laughing at her. The officious and imperious know-it-all – Danielle Marie Parnell -- who had for so long looked down at them, was now displaying in a most undignified way the tight little ass with which she had ceaselessly teased their husbands and sons.

And while those husbands and sons too reveled in the sight of the nearly naked narcissist who had tirelessly mocked them with her beauty and arrogance, Danielle's own son began finally running for cover. Unfortunately for the jock wearing jerk, however, his inability to redirect his stare from his sexy mother's nearly nude form caused him to crash headlong into Alex Morgan and in so doing to begin to fall face first onto the field.

Attempting to break that fall, the ungainly teen grabbed onto the back of Ms. Morgan's flimsy yellow sundress which, to the now familiar sound of rendering fabric, was torn completely from the fabulous footballer's incredible body leaving her in a very lacy, very small white silk thong and a matching push-up bra.

As many of the boys and men in the crowd began as surreptitiously as possible to touch themselves at the sight of the two spectacular women now revealed before them -- and as the humiliated Alex Morgan attempted to shield herself with what remained of her dress -- Will Parnell, a "big man on campus" and rowing star at the exclusive Gonzaga High School, felt an incredibly powerful hand grab him by the wrist and begin to lift him to his feet. Still shocked by the loss of his shorts, and standing dumbfounded in only sneakers, socks, his jockstrap and a tee-shirt, the terrified teen found himself looking up into the steely blue eyes of one Hope Solo.

Meanwhile, as the assembled mothers taunted her with jeers of "meoooww" and "not so snooty now, are you?" Danielle Parnell struggled desperately to get back to her feet while simultaneously attempting to cover her spectacularly pert tits -- the nipples of which were now rock hard from a mix of autumn cold and abject degradation -- and her perfect leopard print thong-covered ass, the site of which had caused several men and boys to darken the fronts of their trousers.

Despite its best attempts the brilliant lawyer’s mind still couldn’t comprehend what was happening. How did she go from looking down upon these unworthy men and dominating their equally pathetic wives to a pinup fantasy for the former and a laughing stock of the latter? How could it be that just minutes ago she was adorned in the height of sophisticated fashion and now she was standing before them in only her highest heels, naughtiest panties and an Hermes scarf? And Will -- she had torn the shorts right off her athletic 18 year old son and come face-to-face with his manhood. And now that bully Hope Solo had Danielle’s little boy in her grasp. What would become of the two of them?

But before the comely counselor could process her family’s fate she was again soaked as the mirthful mothers she had so long looked down upon together poured the ice filled contents of a giant orange Gatorade container over her once perfectly coiffed hair. As Mrs. Parnell's newly messy mane stuck to her head, her normally exquisite make-up ran down her still stunned face and her pert nipples got even harder due to the sticky but ice cold drink, a chubby hand grabbed her bejeweled wrist and wrested the petrified prima donna from standing stupefied in her stilettos to lying over the unexercised knee of the very mom who had begun her undoing with a paper clip – Mrs. Rachel Miras.

In a similarly salacious scene, Hope Solo had torn the "Gonzaga Rowing" tee shirt from Will Parnell's now nearly naked body and – after marching him over to a chair mere inches from where Mrs. Miras held his mom -- begun to assert her version of equal rights.

The beginning of the end of the Will and Danielle Parnell was nigh . . .