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  #31  
Old 09-22-2014, 03:47 PM
Alexandra80 Alexandra80 is offline
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Very nice story! Loved the details of clothes and jewelry, I think they are indispensable when one describes such types of women, snooty and vain. But please, a little bit more description of what's going on in poor Danielle's head during the moments of her predicament... would be great to see her downfall from the inside.

As for the story of Mrs Parnell and her partner, that would be awesome. I love tales about some couple's humiliation, especially haughty, rich and narcissistic couples. But actually they are very rare and yours would be refreshing.
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  #32  
Old 09-22-2014, 05:35 PM
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Chasmo Chasmo is offline
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Hey Alexandra! Thanks for your kind words and very thoughtful constructive criticism. Understanding how Danielle is feeling as she is literally "stripped" of her superiority will no doubt improve the stories markedly for the reader. It's a great idea that I'll do my best to implement (maybe even in the rewriting of Along Came a Spider). Thanks also for your encouragement on my next idea. The arrogant man in question is actually her law/business partner rather than husband/boyfriend partner but the two of them are even more imperious together than Danielle is alone so I'm hoping I can do their downfall justice!
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  #33  
Old 09-24-2014, 11:44 PM
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Default Along Came a Spider Version 2.0

As promised, in an effort to clean up some of the poor editing from the original and in an attempt to incorporate the excellent suggestions of hocman and Alexandra80, below please find a revised draft of Along Came a Spider. Much of it is the same but I hope you enjoy the improvements and additions.

Each of the nicer neighborhoods in Davidson had its own community center and Mrs. Danielle Parnell’s was no different. In fact, the Parnells and the fifty or so other families who lived in Davidson’s nicest neighborhood, each on at least an acre, in homes that started at around 5000 square feet, shared a clubhouse, an Olympic size swimming pool and a lovely dock and boardwalk both of which nestled up to the West River that ran through the community. It was here that parents socialized, children played and dogs ran along the “beach” that the neighborhood association had created specifically for the residents’ enjoyment.

It was also here that Mrs. Danielle Parnell exercised her favorite pastime – looking down her nose at Davidson’s other women while slyly currying the attention of its most affluent men and boys -- their husbands and sons. The 43 year-old beauty particularly enjoyed “catching” one of those men as he stared at her spectacular ass or pert 34C breasts, the former most often accentuated by high heels the latter by a push-up bra under a stylish top, and then castigating him in front of his wife by loudly chiding, “it’s very impolite to stare you know, you should be ashamed of yourself – how inappropriate.”

What she enjoyed most though was the humiliation she knew the wives experienced as she publicly emasculated their husbands. She reveled in how the gaggle of soccer moms, brownie leaders and church volunteers all but disappeared when she cast her spell over their pathetic mates. After all, she was a gorgeous high-powered lawyer and they were . . . well . . . nothing.

On this October day, as she stepped out of her brand new Range Rover Sport, Danielle was taking her daughter Maria to the community center kids’ Halloween Party – a neighborhood staple that was followed in the evening by the annual Halloween Formal. The latter -- also a tradition -- required attendees to either come in black tie or costume. Mrs. Parnell, of course, would opt for the former and planned to wear a spectacular couture gown. Although her two older kids were already out trick-or-treating, the nine year old Maria still loved to participate in the party.

As Danielle led her daughter into the clubhouse lobby, whiplash quickly struck the neck of every man who saw her – followed by a rush of blood from each of their big heads on downward. Her black suede stiletto-heeled knee high boots, over a pair of black leggings that snugly cradled an ass that appeared chiseled from marble, confirmed for them again that Mrs. Parnell was a vision of refined sexuality. On top she wore a tight black turtle-neck sweater that emphasized the swell of her ample bosom but left no doubt as to the tautness of her midsection or the tone of her arms. Over the sweater she wore an incredibly stylish lynx fur vest that came down to just above her waist. Open in front the vest permitted onlookers a view of the oversized D&G buckle that fastened her black leather belt. Although she didn’t acknowledge the men – not a one -- she knew that they couldn’t take their eyes off her and she loved it – so typical, so pathetic. But it was the sleeve grabbing, arm punching and throat clearing of the assembled wives as they tried to regain their drooling husbands’ attention that really made Danielle’s day. She loved how her radiance blinded these foolish men to the existence of their frumpy wives.

Maria meanwhile was dressed as witch. She wore green face paint, a witch’s frock and a jaunty, pointy, black witch’s hat. Of course, she also carried a broom and, being somewhat of a tomboy, had additionally managed to sneak out of the Parnell house with her brother Will’s tarantula – George – hidden in a plastic pumpkin. Her mother, who was petrified of spiders generally and George in particular, knew nothing of her daughter’s hitch hiker. Had she even a whiff of it, Mrs. Parnell would have taken Maria right home and given her a very stern lecture about her inappropriate behavior.

As mother and daughter walked into the main ballroom where the party was getting into full swing, Maria headed off to join her friends. Danielle on the other hand, had no intention of staying. In fact she had already tasked the Parnell family nanny, Alia, with picking up Maria after the party so that Danielle would have ample time alone to prepare for the formal. That said, given the nature of any children’s event, Danielle could not avoid “engaging” with some of the other neighborhood moms, most of who were in costume both for purposes of chaperoning the children’s party and for attending the formal later that evening.

Katherine Wray, the willowy and waifish runner of the neighborhood was dressed as Peter Pan.

“She certainly has the chest of a boy,” Danielle thought to herself, emphasizing her own assets as she smiled falsely at the flat chested Mrs. Wray.

Mrs. Rebecca Ross wore the costume of a wood nymph on her body topped off with a wonderfully done paper mache donkey head on top. The somewhat Rubenesque blonde high school English teacher was costumed as Nick Bottom from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

“That’s a big ass on that big ass,” Mrs. Parnell chuckled inwardly as, beneath her stylish sunglasses, she rolled her eyes at Rebecca. Although Mrs. Parnell looked down her nose at Davidson’s men and women alike, even she had to admit that Rebecca’s husband, Adam Hess, was a very handsome man. Too bad he’s a chubby chaser she laughed to herself.

Finally, Danielle acknowledged, barely, Mrs. Nicole Silver and PTA President Rachel Miras, the former, a curvy, buxom red head, outfitted in an ill-fitting “sexy police woman’s” costume and the latter as a character from the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

“That Silver woman should be ashamed of herself,” thought Danielle, “stuffing her oversized body into that inappropriate costume. Talk about cops as pigs!”

As for Mrs. Miras, Mrs. Parnell merely snickered under her breath, “of course she’s a Hobbit.”

As she turned to leave on a very high heel of one of her black suede boots, Danielle felt the familiar joy of superiority swelling up insider her. Strutting away from the “lesser” moms she mused, “wait until this load of costumed circus freaks and their drooling fool husbands see what I’ll be wearing to the formal tonight,” all the while thinking of the exquisite black gown hanging in her closet. Thank God there’ll be alcohol there to drown these women’s sorrows.

Back in the clubhouse it was Rebecca Ross who gave voice to what all the mothers were feeling. “Just once I’d like to see that imperious snob get taken down a peg or two,” she seethed. “And I don’t like the way she looks at my husband.” No one disagreed with either sentiment.

With Maria at the party, her other two kids off trick-or-treating and her husband still at work, Danielle Parnell could share some time with the person in the world she loved the most – herself. Stepping from the lion-clawed tub in the colossal marble sanctuary that was her private bathroom, Mrs. Parnell wrapped her heavenly body in large terry cloth towel before slipping into a silk robe. Smiling into her mirror as she prepared to apply her make-up, and with the impact she’d make at the Halloween Formal foremost in her mind, Danielle whispered to herself “you are indeed the fairest of them all.”

To improve upon her own perfection, Mrs. Parnell expertly applied a set of false eye lashes and otherwise exquisitely made up her beautiful face. Her ruby red lips, not overdone but sexy nonetheless, and her tasteful eyeliner, called out in more stark relief than usual her perfectly formed and immaculate white teeth and emerald green eyes. She looked the perfect cross between Keri Russell and Miranda Kerr.

With her make-up and hair complete, the latter in an updo to lend her even more sophistication, Mrs. Parnell smiled devilishly as she began to get “dressed” for the evening. Although she generally wore only the finest lingerie from the likes of Cosa Bella and La Perla, and although no one but she (and if she permitted him, her husband) would ever see it anyway, Danielle had decided that her nod to Halloween would be to don some very naughty, cheap, Frederick’s of Hollywood, “holiday themed” underwear beneath her fabulously expensive designer gown.

Opening the small shopping bag before her, Mrs. Parnell pulled out a matching, sheer, black and orange “spider” thong and garter belt. Slipping the former up her toned legs before it settled on her taut, firm, apple-shaped bottom, Danielle delighted in the naughtiness of it all. The translucent orange triangle of fabric that framed her immaculately manicured landing strip, and the spider waistband (really three pencil thin bands of fabric that mimicked a web) that attached it to its whale-tailed back, which bisected her perfect ass, made for a spectacularly sexy vision.

She then put on the black “spider-web” lace garter belt, hung with orange garters, and began to roll the diaphanous, sheer, black thigh highs up her spectacularly well exercised legs. After attaching the orange lace welt topped stockings to the awaiting orange garters, Danielle stepped into a pair of black Christian Louboutin stilettos with 5” high, thin, shiny, silver heels.

Finally, the preening socialite put on the spider web lace adhesive bra that would permit her to push up her 34Cs even more than usual while also letting her wear a backless gown without worry of some fashion faux pas. Although God, genetics and a tireless discipline to fitness had graced the lovely Mrs. Parnell with the pert and perky breasts of a 20 year-old, she did not deem it appropriate ever to go braless. The sexy backless bra, while deliciously scandalous, would even in hiding preserve her modesty beneath her elegant frock.

Before putting on her custom-made gown, but only after sporting hanging diamond earrings, a red carpet worthy diamond necklace and a flawless diamond tennis bracelet – nearly 40 carats in all – Danielle turned to the full length mirror in her cavernous walk-in closet to drink in her favorite site. What she saw in the reflection would have put the makers of Viagra and Cialis out of business. “You’re perfect,” she cooed sexily to herself before, intoxicated by her own beauty, she turned to the side and, bending over at the waist, reached down to the floor and, fantasizing wantonly about Mrs. Ross’ strapping husband, coquettishly said, “excuse me Mr. Hess, I must have dropped something.” Imagine what that hunky Adam Hess, that fool Ross’ husband, would actually do if he saw me like this she thought – well he never will – the loser.

With that Danielle proceeded to slip into the floor length wrap-around gown. The bespoke designer dress was tied with a silk-bow behind her supple neck. In the front, the hanging silk plunged down to the crest of her gorgeous breasts. There was no back. The bottom portion was essentially a wrap-around skirt kept up, and also attached to the front of the dress, by a large diamond encrusted spider brooch that sat on Danielle’s left hip and held the dress together by way of a clasp hidden underneath. While breathtaking, the dress was also quite “appropriate.” Although the wrap-around in the front went all the way to Mrs. Parnell’s waist, there was a sufficient overlap of fabric to only give a modest view of her legs – to just above the knee – as she walked. Only she would ever know what was underneath it all – or at least so she thought.

Satisfied with the vision of beauty before her, Danielle d****d a black mink stole over her fit bare shoulders for the brief ride to the clubhouse and walked out to the waiting sedan. She was in heaven – prepared again to leave the normally flaccid husbands of Davidson aching over her splendor while rejoicing in how the attention they would lavish on her would humiliate and degrade their costumed fools of wives.

Had she not been awash in her own egoistic daydream, the imperious Mrs. Parnell may have seen the family nanny Alia, along with Danielle’s three kids, trying to waive her down in the driveway. A crying Maria had just informed her brother, sister and nanny that George – Will’s tarantula -- had escaped at the Halloween party. Alia had hoped to tell her boss beforehand about the mishap but now, knowing she didn’t dare interrupt Mrs. Parnell at the party, she and the Parnell kids would need to mount a rescue mission in secret. With 13 year-old Will as the mission’s master-mind, and after gathering some glass jars, digging up some worms and collecting some small lizards and beetles that Will usually fed to George, the kids and Alia rigged two fishing poles with hooks and headed for the club house.

Stepping from the town car that had just rolled up to the clubhouse entry way, Mrs. Parnell prepared to wow the neighborhood as usual. Walking into the lobby for the second time that day, Danielle drank in the collective gasp from the gathered men who – to her heartfelt delight – couldn’t peel their eyes from her gorgeous form. With a bit more sway in her hips than usual, the elegant Mrs. Danielle Parnell click-clacked her way down the marble hallway to the banquet room. As she strutted past the collection of mothers that she had tolerated earlier in the day – each of whom was still in costume -- Mrs. Parnell could sense the “stench” of their jealousy and humiliation – she loved it. For their part, the neighborhood’s other women stared daggers at the preening narcissist.

“Oh . . . . I simply loathe that snob,” seethed Rebecca Ross.

Mrs. Silver, who had already downed more than a few cocktails, offered a less guarded assessment. “I’d like to put that little show-off over my knee and spank that bottom she so loves to wiggle in front of our husbands. That would show her a thing or two.”

“I would sure love to see that,” smiled Rachel Miras.

“Me too,” said Mrs. Wray and Mrs. Ross in chorus, as each of them thought to herself about what a hysterical scene that would be. Too bad it would never happen. Or would it?

Checking her mink stole with a hostess, Danielle made her way to the bar for a drink. Despite any number of neighborhood men falling over themselves to offer her one, much to the chagrin of their crest fallen wives, Danielle would not give even one of them the time of day. To the contrary, she took the opportunity to sneer at them with disdain believing it made them lust after her even more – pathetic oafs. Poor Adam Hess got the worst of it when, in trying his part to get Danielle a drink, he lightly grabbed her elbow from behind to get her attention.

“Get your hands off me, Mr. Hess,” she very loudly and publicly chided him, “just because your wife is dressed as an ass doesn't mean you should behave like one.”

Poor Adam was both embarrassed and cut to the quick as he shuffled off to try to explain to his equally humiliated wife Rebecca that it was all a misunderstanding. Rebecca, who with the donkey head still in place was being ridiculed roundly by guests, was steaming. Danielle on the other hand loved it all – collectively shaming that “overstuffed” Ross and her handsome but half-witted husband had been the highlight of her night so far.

With her own husband having cancelled due to work, Mrs. Parnell took a seat at her assigned table for dinner. That she was seated with the boyish Mrs. Wray and the already intoxicated Nicole Silver only cemented in her mind how much more desirable she was than this group of desperate haus fraus. Their two husbands, Mr. and Mrs. Miras, Rebecca Ross and Adam Hess rounded out the group of nine at Danielle’s table. To further exert her “dominance” over Rebecca, Danielle took a seat right next to Mr. Hess.

The banquet hall was well decorated given the prosperity of the community. There were scarecrows and pumpkins aplenty, along with your share of ghosts and skeletons. Orange filters had been installed over the lights to give the room an eerie glow while dry ice machines, blown by heavy industrial fans set at their lowest level, completed the creepy ambiance. In the center of it all, smack in the middle of the dance floor and ultimately surrounded by the well-appointed dinner tables – sat a giant cast iron cauldron filled to the brim with water upon which at least a bushel of apples floated gingerly.

As wine was poured and small talk was exchanged in the clubhouse, the Parnell kids and Alia were taking it all in from one of the large open windows looking into the banquet room. With his G.I. Joe Adventure Set night vision goggles, Will had managed to spot George crawling along the dance floor. Thankfully, and in large part due to the low lights and dry ice mist, no one else had yet spied the hairy fellow. Unfortunately for Will, as he watched George amble along it was clear that the tarantula was headed right toward his own mother’s table.

“We've got to do something fast or mom will kill us,” implored Will.

Alia knew he was right. If Mrs. Parnell saw George herself, no matter the explanation young Maria might offer, Alia would be out of a job.

“Okay, let’s bait a hook with a lizard and then see if we can’t cast the line under the table,” said the nanny. “Once George starts eating we’ll be able to pull him out of there and get back to the house – no harm, no foul.”

The Parnell kids did as Alia said and were quickly ready to save George, and themselves, from further peril. They had managed to move to a window directly outside their mom’s table to increase their odds of success. Now it was go time. With as much finesse as he could muster, 13 year old Will reared back with the fishing pole and cast the line through the window. As the weighted line flew floor-ward the small lizard meant as a meal for George unexpectedly came loose from the hook and landed squarely in the cleavage of the now completely tipsy Nicole Silver. Shocked by the reptilian visitor perched between her rather sizeable breasts, the booby, red-headed “sl*tty police woman” jumped from her chair with a twofold effect. First and foremost, her drunken attempt to dislodge the lizard caused the knot at the base of her police “uniform shirt” to come undone thereby unleashing her bare 36Ds. Second, she managed to spill her entire glass of red wine onto Danielle’s lap.

“You fat cow, you’ve ruined my dress,” shouted Mrs. Parnell at Mrs. Silver, as the latter attempted to retie her shirt. “And cover yourself! Perhaps if you wore clothes that fit . . . and a bra . . . you wouldn't end up in such a shameful situation . . . it’s so inappropriate.”

But before Nicole or anyone could respond, the glowering Mrs. Parnell saw George running under the table right at her fashionable Louboutin shoes. Leaping almost out of those shoes in surprise, the haughty socialite inadvertently intercepted the course of the still flying fish hook. The hook in turn, to what would soon be the delight of all but one person in attendance, snagged onto the clasp beneath the brooch that held Mrs. Parnell’s elegant dress together – and through the dress itself – a fact that went unnoticed by anyone in the sudden commotion of the moment.

While that commotion continued inside the banquet hall, it appeared (falsely as it turned out) that outside success was at hand.

“Got him,” shouted Will as he felt some tension on the line and prepared to reel in what he thought was his pet to safety. From their slightly changed vantage point outside the window, the kids and Alia no longer had a line of sight into the goings on inside. Believing they had George on the line, all that remained was to pull him to safety.

Back inside, Danielle’s attention had turned completely from the now redressed Nicole Silver to the creature about to climb onto her shoe.

“Get it away from me,” Mrs. Parnell shrieked to no one in particular as she began to beat a path toward the dance floor in fear of the hairy creature.

The other women at her table took no small amount of joy from Ms. Perfect’s discomfort. At that point, they were satisfied that the embarrassment Mrs. Parnell no doubt felt about her momentary loss of control would be the full extent of the diva’s comeuppance. Little did they know what was about to transpire. What happened next would be talked about in Davidson for years to come.

As his mother fled one way, Will Parnell, intent on saving George, pulled back on the fishing pole with all his might – nothing.

“George must be stuck,” Will thought and again gave a mighty tug – still the spider didn’t budge. Again he pulled with all his strength.

Meanwhile, inside the banquet hall, Katherine Wray, who had been sitting right across from Danielle at dinner, enduring the snob’s withering sideways looks and endless toying with Rebecca’s husband, noticed something odd. As the high and mighty Mrs. Parnell, now flustered by the wayward arachnid, attempted to run to safety, she appeared three times to be jerked suddenly backward from the waist by some invisible force. While watching the terrified socialite try again to escape – this time with somewhat more success, Katherine heard a small thud and looked down to see the fancy spider brooch that had been at the preening prima donna’s waist fall to the ground.

Danielle heard it too, and seeing her brooch drop to the floor, while first bumping squarely into Adam Hess, bent at her waist to pick it up.

Mimicking the very line she had sexily cooed at her near naked reflection hours earlier, but this time in a panicked tone, the disoriented Mrs. Parnell stammered awkwardly “excuse me Mr. Hess, I . . . I must have . . . dropped something.”

The moment those words left Danielle’s lips, and while the suddenly more confident Mr. Hess gazed at her evening gown encased posterior poised enticingly from her bending at the waist, young Will, now with Alia, Maria and Anna all helping, tried one more time to reel in the missing George.

With the four of them now pulling mightily on the fishing pole, a giant ripping sound could be heard throughout the banquet hall. The frazzled former uber mom, bent over at the waist and unsure what was happening, at last grasped the now useless brooch – but her efforts were futile. As Danielle’s neighbors watched her elegant designer gown mysteriously unwrap itself from its snooty wearer, Mrs. Katherine Wray eased its journey window-ward by gently untying the silk knot behind Mrs. Parnell’s lovely neck.

Outside the window, Alia and her three charges watched as a large black cloth, along with George who was swept up by the dress, came floating out there way.

“Looks like we also grabbed a table cloth,” surmised Alia. No wonder it was so hard to pull George out of there, she thought.

“Grab the spider kids, we’re out of here,” yelled the nanny finally as they all began the run for home.

Meanwhile back inside you could hear a pin drop – there in front of all her neighbors, bent over in the very position in which she had admired her spectacular body only two short hours before, was the town’s biggest snob – Danielle Parnell -- revealed in a most highly “inappropriate” state. As the howling laughter of their wives snapped Danielle to her feet, Davidson’s men – led by Adam Hess -- collectively groaned at the site of her in her towering 5” heels, shimmering black thigh highs topped off with an orange welt, lacy Halloween colored garter belt, and mouth-watering “spider” thong – what an ass. Her firm abs topped by her perky 34Cs encased in the lacy, backless, spider bra caused a drooling platoon of waiters to drop half the evening’s dinners at once.

Danielle couldn’t think straight. What just happened to me? Where is my beautiful dress? Oh my God, they can see me in this, cheap, sl*tty underwear. Time seemed to slow to a crawl for the ordinarily confident Mrs. Parnell as she gazed out into the faces of the women and men she so mocked, so teased, so despised, and so looked down upon. They’re complete losers she tried to tell herself – all of them. But the chorus of guffaws Danielle heard, the hysterically laughing women that she saw pointing at her – at her – confirmed in her mind that something had gone horribly wrong. As her brain tried to process the humiliation welling up inside her, Mrs. Parnell’s body telegraphed for all to see her acute embarrassment and shame. Her hands were flying back and forth between her thong covered ass and barely concealed landing strip trying to prevent these commoners from seeing her fabulous but private treasures. Her eyes meanwhile were the size of saucers and her mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

She knew she had to flee and, without another moment’s hesitation, turned to run for the door. What she hadn't counted on was the location of the cauldron which, as she ran smack into its side, caused her to plunge head first into the water.

The slapstick nature of the unfolding events had the neighborhood mothers in stitches. The preening know-it-all and self-appointed queen of the May, Mrs. Danielle Parnell, who had tormented and looked down on them for years, was quickly become a laughing stock. That image was only enhanced as the disgraced alpha female emerged from the giant cauldron. Her once impeccably coiffed hair looked like a wet mop, a false eye-lash had come loose and was stuck to her face at a ridiculous angle, her sexy eye-liner now made her look more like Alice Cooper than Miranda Kerr. What’s more – and to the particular delight of those who had to endure her pomposity through dinner – her usually smug visage had been replaced by a daffy, empty stare.

“She’s not so perfect now, is she,” smirked Rebecca to herself.

But everything that had come so far paled in comparison to what happened next. Out of the soup and back on her feet, but frozen in place by her further humiliation, the once domineering lawyer merely looked down with shock as her lacy spider themed adhesive bra, unstuck by her stumble in the water, fell with a wet splat from her beautiful pert breasts to the dance floor below. There for all to see were the magnificent tits of the town tease – perfect in their size and shape and with nipples made hard by the combination of cold water and abject degradation. As her costumed neighbors roared with laughter the shell-shocked Mrs. Parnell was too astonished even to attempt to cover her glorious boobs.

Rejoicing in karmic justice but smarting from little Ms. Perfect calling her a fat cow, Nicole Silver thought back to her earlier statement about teaching Mrs. Parnell a lesson. Inspired by that memory, the vengeful Mrs. Silver grabbed Danielle by the arm thereby snapping the neighborhood snob from her trance. Then with a wry smile on her face, and to the delight of everyone at the formal, Nicole unclipped the hand-cuffs from the belt of her costume and slapped them on the diamond encrusted wrists of Mrs. Parnell which she had forcibly secured behind Danielle’s back, and forcibly bent the disgraced beauty queen over her knee.

Remembering Danielle’s words to her when her own top flew open, Nicole mockingly pronounced “why Mrs. Parnell -- cover yourself! Perhaps if you wore clothes that fit . . . and a bra . . . you wouldn’t end up in such a shameful situation . . . it’s so inappropriate.” As the men tried to hide their excitement, the women cheered on their new hero!

Nicole, now truly getting into character, authoritatively continued, “you missy, are under arrest for the crime of extreme arrogance. And as with any crime, in order to make things right, you must be punished.”

The neighborhood moms, now almost crying they were laughing so hard, could not believe it. The tipsy Mrs. Silver was about to spank little Ms. Perfect – and no one deserved it more.

As she raised her palm for the first strike Nicole Silver saw it, the Frederick’s of Hollywood tag on Danielle’s spider webbed panties. “Oh my God,” she cried out hysterically, “little Miss Fancy Pants buys her undies at Frederick’s of Hollywood – the cheap tramp.”

As the laughter rose to a crescendo, Danielle in a fit of pique cried out, “I do not. I mean . . . just this once . . . I . . . I . . . no one was supposed to see these. STOP LOOKING AT ME!!”

“I think someone needs an attitude adjustment,” interrupted Nicole. “Don’t you agree girls?”

“Redden that little ass,” cried Rachel Miras.

“Make it so she can’t sit for a week,” chimed in Katherine Wray.

With that the spanking began, as Nicole rained down swat after sweet swat on Mrs. Parnell’s perfectly formed posterior. How can this be happening to me, thought the now half-delusional former fashionista? I’m so beautiful . . . and sexy . . . and powerful. Their husbands all want me . . . don’t they? And as a kernel of doubt about her own perfection crept into her mind for the first time ever, and her oh-so-fit behind began to glow a rosy red, the humiliated Mrs. Parnell made a run for it.

Rolling off of Nicole’s lap and struggling to her feet, Danielle -- still handcuffed and with her magnificent breast jutting out in front of her -- headed for the door as fast as her heels could carry her. But Nicole wasn’t done yet. Alas, as she lunged after her prey, all Mrs. Silver caught was the sprinting diva’s thong which, torn from her body, now left her in only her heels and stockings. With cell phones and cameras recording her near naked form for posterity, the once supremely confident Mrs. Danielle Parnell, with her landing strip and rock hard nipples on full display, and riddled with self-doubt, cried out desperately “please . . . someone . . . cover me.”

It was at that point that Rebecca Ross removed the donkey head from her shoulders and jammed it on top of Danielle’s disheveled head.

“That’s from me and my husband, you snooty b*tch,” announced Rebecca. “Consider yourself covered. And if you ever as much as look at my man again, you won’t have even a stitch left on when I’m finished with you.”

The other women went wild as the once perfect Mrs. Danielle Parnell, now stripped to her heels and hose, stood idiotically in front of them with a donkey head effectively in place of her own. Emboldened by their cheers, Rebecca slapped the defeated Mrs. Parnell on her red but still stunning behind and demanded to know “who is the ass now honey?”
Knowing it was she, the completely undone Danielle Parnell, barely loud enough for her assembled neighbors to hear, whispered from under the most unfashionable item she had eve worn, “I am ma’am, I’m the ass and I’m a very naughty little girl.”

And with that the destroyed Mrs. Parnell went sprinting from the banquet room to the raucous laughter of her entire neighborhood. The last anyone heard of the disgraced diva was her heels quickly click-clacking away down the marble hall.
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  #34  
Old 09-25-2014, 05:31 PM
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Good story, thanks.

I suggest to increase humiliation and join to story one more person. This person is bully boy or bully girl, who is one of the clasmates of Danielle children and who wants to be a leader in the classroom. But bully fears high-powered lawyer. Danielle told him (her) if you touch my kids I put you in jail....But once in bully head coming a good thought how humiliate this snooty family Danielle and her glamour daughter or dandy son. How him get to undress them, your absolute fantasy. Only been very useful if from Danielle removed also all her jewelry and bully rushed off on her new Range Rover Sport.
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  #35  
Old 09-26-2014, 01:31 PM
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Ok not quite sure where that last post was going, anyway great update on this story. Thank you for extending the spanking and adding more detail. Love the end with mask and Mrs. Parnell saying yes ma'am and I'm a naughty girl. Perfect. You've captured the mood of the crowd perfectly. Look forward to the continued adventures of Mrs. Parnell.
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  #36  
Old 10-12-2014, 01:03 AM
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Default Undressed for Success

SmythKnight was one of the most prestigious law firms in the United States and its glass encased office complex at the foot of Capitol Hill stood as a powerful testament to that status – the firm was a legal leviathan. On this sunny August day, a group of some fifty very high powered partners in the firm, along with their assistants and a smattering of junior associates and staff, were waiting impatiently – if not in some small amount of fear -- in the largest of the many conference rooms in SmythKnight’s office. They were waiting for the law firm’s managing partner – Mrs. Danielle Parnell. They were impatient because, as usual, she was late. They were fearful because she could be ruthless.

The quick paced staccato rhythm of high heels on a marble floor signaled to the room full of attorneys and others that Danielle Parnell, Esq. was near. Looking through the sheer glass wall that separated the conference room from SmythKnight’s opulent lobby they could see their “boss” approaching – and what an approach it was.
Strutting authoritatively past them as she made her way to the conference room door, Mrs. Parnell looked every inch the domineering alpha female that she was. Atop her 4.5” Prada black leather heels that heralded her arrival was a set of fantastically toned athlete’s legs covered from just below the knee on up by a tight, fashionable, pin-striped pencil skirt that encased the object of desire of every man who set eyes on her – a spectacularly formed ass.

On top, the sexy uber lawyer was wearing a sleeveless, perfectly pressed, crisp white cotton oxford shirt that tightly hugged the contours of her pert 34C breasts and flawless midsection and displayed her tan, well exercised arms for all to see – just as she intended. A white necklace of pearls adorned her supple neck and a simple but exquisite watch wrapped her left wrist. Hear beautiful face, made even more stunning by the proper yet alluring gold rimmed glasses encircling her emerald green eyes, was crowned perfectly by her luxurious brown mane, touched by sunlit highlights, and tied up in a very professional looking bun.

Catching her reflection in the glass door as she entered the room, Mrs. Parnell took account of her own stunning beauty – perfect she thought. She smiled inwardly as she anticipated the lust that the men in the room – nominally her “partners” but in her view really just a bunch of feckless losers -- must already be feeling. Danielle loved the effect she had on men. That her beauty rendered them fools and sycophants provided her with almost as much pleasure as did -- when she would catch them staring at her wantonly – the humiliation she would heap upon them by loudly scolding, “eyes up here Johnson . . . you’re lucky I don’t fire you this minute,” or “exactly what are you looking at Mr. Thomas – perhaps it’s time you review our harassment policy -- again.”

Dominating the weak men of SmythKnight brought Danielle untold pleasure – particularly if she could exercise her authority over them in front of their wives, girlfriends or daughters who she reveled in humiliating both by stealing the attention of their men and then emasculating those men while they watched helplessly. Perhaps if they took better care of themselves or made something of their lives their husbands’ heads wouldn’t be so easily turned she thought to herself.

But it wasn’t only the men of SmtyhKnight who Danielle relished belittling. She likewise enjoyed intimidating the firm’s female partners, associates and staff who she taunted and mocked regularly – particularly her beleaguered assistant, Linda Bertrand, a slightly portly but otherwise attractive brunette some ten years younger than the 43 year old Mrs. Parnell. And today was no different.

Walking imperiously into the conference room, Danielle’s first point of business was loudly to reprimand her already quaking assistant.

“Well Ms. Bertrand, it appears as though someone got dressed in the dark again today. No matter – no one is looking at you anyway.” Danielle laughed to herself “because they’re all too busy looking at me – as they should be.”

“As all of you know,” Mrs. Parnell continued, “tomorrow is ‘Take Your Kids to Work Day’ here at SmythKnight. As usual, the children will be separated into different age groups and have a chance to shadow lawyers and staff, share a group lunch and otherwise participate in the day’s programs. That will all be followed by our annual firm reception in the atrium where your spouses and significant others can join you, your children and the rest of us for what this year will be dinner and a fashion show where some of SmythKnight’s very own will model the latest in fashionable, appropriate, professional attire.”

“Excuse me Danielle,” asked Mrs. Karen Manley timidly, hoping to curry some favor with the firm’s imperious leader, “but who from the firm will be modelling the clothes.”

“Certainly not you Karen,” Danielle condescended to her law partner. “In fact, I’m hoping that Ms. Bertrand, Ms. Butcher and you will use the fashion show as an opportunity to learn something – now get back to work.”

With that, the haughty Mrs. Danielle Parnell stood up and left the meeting. Although the men in the room were too busy following Danielle’s perfect posterior as it tightly swayed its way down the hall, Karen Manley wasted no time in approaching Mrs. Lauren Butcher.

“Oh I simply can’t abide that woman,” fumed Mrs. Manley. “Who does she think she is anyway? We’re her partners not her house staff – ‘certainly not you Karen’ – just once I’d like her to be on the receiving end.”

Mrs. Lauren Butcher, another of SmythKnight’s female partners, was equally infuriated. The nearly six foot blonde, who had always been conscious of her height, and as a result ended up looking as if she was slightly slouched over, could barely conceal her contempt for the preening Mrs. Parnell.

“No kidding. I know what she calls me behind my back – “lurch,” “prairie hair” – it makes me want to slap that smug grin right off her perfectly made up face. But I need this job and so do you and as long as the partnership agreement permits her to fire us at will – until she either retires or quits -- there is nothing we can do.”

Overhearing their conversation, and having finally been pushed too far by her boss’ incessant derision, Ms. Linda Bertrand interrupted them with a conspiratorial, “maybe this time there is!”

The next morning, having showered, dried her hair and perfectly applied her make-up, Mrs. Danielle Parnell slipped into the tiniest navy blue, sheer, silk Cosabella thong, a matching push-up bra and 4.5” blue leather Manolo Blahnik heels. Walking from her monumental marble bathroom into an equally cavernous dressing area, the self-obsessed mother of three could not help but drink in her own vision in the mirror. Placing her hand over her mouth in mock embarrassment, the egoistic lawyer fantasized out loud, “why Mr. Sarano, you’ve caught me indisposed.” With her standard smug look returning to her face, and chiding herself inwardly for her impetuousness, Danielle mockingly laughed “you wish.”

Jerry Sarano was also a partner at SmythKnight. The almost 50 year old perennially fit triathlete had the body of a man thirty years younger. As intelligent as he was trim, Sarano was also an impeccable dresser routinely sporting only the most cutting edge, tight-fitting European suits and accessories. Still single, he was rumored at SmythKnight to be both a ladies man and extraordinarily well-endowed. Unfortunately, not unlike the firm’s leader, Mr. Sarano was all too aware of his physical gifts, both actual and rumored. He looked down upon all those around him save for Danielle to whom he obsequiously kowtowed. Sarano was the closest thing to a friend that Mrs. Parnell had at the office and it was with him that she would share her most withering comments about the likes of Lauren “Lurch” Butcher and others. Together they privately mocked just about everyone else at the firm making fun of their “lack of fitness,” “terrible fashion sense,” “slovenly demeanor,” “awful haircuts” and “inferior intelligence.” The two were almost equally loathed and although not true, there was an unspoken belief that they were having an affair.

Having had her fun for the morning, Danielle dressed herself in a black Prada pant suit, the slacks fitting her perfect ass like a glove and the bolero jacket, worn with nothing but her push-up bra underneath, tightly encasing her spectacular 34C breasts and otherwise toned upper body. She planned to spend the workday in this outfit before changing – multiple times – into the outfits she would be modelling at the evening’s fashion show, all of which her witless secretary, Linda Bertrand, was to pick up at the tailors’ and deliver to her office. Mrs. Parnell, of course, would be the only woman modelling that evening. At her request, Mr. Jerry Sarano would be modelling for the men. Having prepared herself for the day, Danielle headed into the office to welcome the offspring of SmythKnight’s finest.

Meanwhile, having picked up her boss’ many outfits from the tailors’, Linda Bertrand was ready to get “to work.” Aware that Danielle was welcoming the kids in a firm conference room on another floor, Ms. Bertrand knew she had less than an hour before her boss returned. Walking into the opulent office of “Mrs. Danielle Parnell, Esquire,” Linda marched past the six seat private conference table and the large mahogany desk and into Danielle’s private anteroom which, with its own hardwood floors, large Oriental rug, private bath, wardrobe, large leather couch, floor to ceiling bookshelves and fully stocked bar was as much a clubby living room as anything else. The room was usually locked but having instructed Linda to deliver her clothes there, Danielle had left it open.

On one wall, framed by mahogany bookshelves on either side, hung a full length mirror that her snobby boss no doubt used to admire herself. It was in this room that Danielle would be changing from one outfit to another for the evening’s show. As Linda fished the small scissors from her pocket and pulled the plastic off the cocktail dress labeled “grand finale” she thought to herself, “and what a show it’s going to be.”

While Mrs. Parnell’s secretary continued to make her “alterations,” including just for fun weakening all the seams on the fancy three piece suit and shirt that she still needed to deliver to Mr. Jerry Sarano’s office, Linda spied what looked like a camera hidden in the bookshelf facing the mirror.

“Oh no,” she panicked, “my crazy boss must keep this room monitored . . . I’m going to get caught for sure, and fired.”

Thinking quickly, Linda hurried out to Danielle’s main office and dialed up SmythKnight’s IT manager, Catherine Webb. Like Linda, Mrs. Webb had many times suffered the wrath of the firm’s tyrannical managing partner and it was that fact that guided what she did next. Although logic demanded that Catherine immediately report Linda Bertrand to SmythKnight’s security team for not only snooping around the managing partner’s office but for asking Catherine to delete any record of it, her sympathy for Linda’s daily plight dictated otherwise. First, Catherine eased Linda’s anxiety by assuring her that the camera was not recording anything while Linda was in the room because it was only activated when Danielle logged into the system and she hadn’t yet been to her office. Second, and without telling Linda or anyone else, Catherine used her authority as network administrator to remotely take over control of the camera.

“Who knows,” she thought to herself, “maybe I can catch Miss High and Mighty drinking at the office -- or breaking one of her many rules and regulations regarding ‘appropriateness’ -- and leverage it into a few extra bucks.” Although she knew she’d never really do such a thing, the mere idea of spying on the arrogant Mrs. Parnell provided Catherine with no small amount of satisfaction.

With that, “Take Your Kids to Work Day” marched on as planned. Over a hundred children, to learn what their moms and dads did all day, followed lawyers and staff members through their paces, attended a fun “kids only” lunch, listened to any number of professionals drone on about their jobs and finally took part in a kids’ mock trial where they got to play the parts of lawyers, judges, witnesses and bailiffs. As 5:00 PM finally rolled around, each kid was joined by their parent who worked at SmythKnight as well as, in some cases, his or her other parent who was also invited by the firm to the dinner and fashion show.

In the meantime, Mrs. Danielle Parnell was busy changing into her first outfit of the evening. Locking the door to her anteroom from the inside she slipped out of her Prada pant suit and, facing the mirror, indulged in her favorite pastime – taking in her own glorious body. She loved that she was changing at the office -- that as her dumpy female colleagues and the haus frau wives of SmythKnight’s male population stuffed their fat faces with whatever rubber chicken was being served at the dinner, she was preparing, with her beauty, intelligence and authority, to render them invisible by stealing the attention of all men in attendance.

Catherine Webb cursed her luck. Not having kids, she had no plans to stay for the dinner and fashion show. Although the finale of the show was to be preceded by a short film that was made of the day’s activities, one of Catherine’s assistants would take care of it thereby permitting the over-worked Mrs. Webb to beat an early retreat from work. That said, she had forgotten her keys again and needed to get back to her office to retrieve them.

Having donned her first outfit, Danielle preceded to the dais that had been set up in SmythKnight’s large glass atrium, to welcome everyone to the show and to explain that she would be modelling three different outfits for the evening, including the lovely A-line dress she had on now, a pinstripe skirt-suit and, for the finale, a little black cocktail dress that was “work appropriate” to show how professional women could maintain poise and class after hours as well. While she changed, Mr. Jerry Sarano would be showing a collection of watches, brief cases and other accessories for men.

Sitting next to Danielle on the dais were her own three kids – Will, Anna and Maria. Having been dropped off earlier in the day, the three had taken in part in the program along with everyone else’s children. Also on stage, and sitting on the other side of Mrs. Parnell, was Jerry Sarano. A podium separated the five of them on one side from a small group of the firm’s lawyers and staff on the other. Among that group sat Karen Manley, Lauren Butcher and Linda Bertrand. In the audience sat the four hundred or so people who made up the lawyers and staff of SmythKnight and their families.

With soft music playing, and knowing that every man and boy was now transfixed by her beauty, Mrs. Danielle Parnell began her long walk down the runway that extended from the dais. She could feel the attention she was getting from the men and loved it. She loved more that despite any effort the other women in the room might make, they were rendered irrelevant by her beauty. As she turned on her 4.5” heels to walk back – and with an extra sway in her hips and a completely false smile on her otherwise beautiful face – she mouthed to Linda, Karen and Lauren – “you should be taking notes.” Amused by her cutting barb, and feeling better than ever, Danielle slipped through the curtain at the back of the stage and made her way to her office to change.

Grabbing the forgotten keys from her desk, Catherine Webb paused for a brief second.

“I wonder if she’s in there,” Catherine thought, “what the heck . . . let’s take a look.”

With that Mrs. Webb fired up her computer and double-clicked on the file labeled “DMPPO” – Danielle Marie Parnell Private Office. In an instant, Catherine was looking at a live, high resolution, color picture of Mrs. Parnell’s anteroom – but no one was there. “Oh well,” she thought, “maybe next time.” But as she was about to disconnect and head home she saw, and heard, someone come into the room. Having not tried the camera before, Catherine was surprised that it had audio capability. What she saw and heard next was an even bigger surprise.

“You looked perfect out there,” Danielle preened at the mirror. “Those men couldn’t take their eyes off you and their fat wives couldn’t do a thing about it. Wait until the finale – the horny losers won’t even be able to stand up to leave and that assemblage of cows will want to kill themselves.”

With those words uttered, the haughty prima donna slipped out of her A-line dress and proceeded to pose in front of the mirror in her tiny blue thong, sheer push up bra and towering heels. Turning to the side she bent over at the waist and drank in the site of her own flawless ass. Standing again she cupped her barely bra encased breasts together and then, releasing them, blew herself a kiss.

Catherine was both dumbfounded and thrilled. Dumbfounded that the little tease – who walked around as the standard bearer for “appropriateness” – would behave like this at the office and thrilled that she had it recorded. She decided at that point to tell her assistant to take off for the night; Catherine would prepare the short film for the fashion show finale on her own.

Having changed into her pinstripe power suit, not dissimilar to the one she had worn to work the previous day, Mrs. Parnell returned to the stage again as Jerry Sarano stood at the podium to announce her arrival.

“Wearing what can only be described as the perfect power suit,” the obsequious Sarano began, “I present to you our partner, friend, leader and hallmark of authority, Mrs. Danielle Parnell.”

Once again, to the sound of hearty applause from the men and tepid, forced clapping from the women, Danielle strutted down the runway. As she surveyed the crowd she could tell that every male there was beside himself with desire.

“What a bunch of pathetic fools,” she thought to herself, “no wonder they’re so easily manipulated. And the women – they should just give it up.”

After turning at the end of the runway, Danielle sashayed back towards the podium and again slipped through the curtain to change into her final outfit of the night – her show stopper, the LBD that would have them all drooling. As the self-satisfied Mrs. Parnell disappeared through the curtain, Karen Manley could barely contain her rage.

“Can you believe that woman – she is clearly just here to show off. She prances up and down that runway smiling at our husbands and sons while sneering at all of us. She really needs to be taken down a peg or two.”

“I can’t stand her,” chimed in Lauren Butcher. “Always putting us down, humiliating the men with her “that’s highly inappropriate” nonsense. How is it appropriate for her to parade herself in front of everyone anyway? Just because she covers herself in her tight power outfits doesn’t make her any less of a tease. Linda – are you sure this ‘surprise’ of yours is really going to work.”

“I’m pretty certain you’ll love the finale,” smiled Mrs. Linda Bertrand.

Back in her office, Danielle had again locked the door to her anteroom and slipped out of her pinstripe suit. As Catherine Webb continued recording, the narcissistic leader of SmythKnight slipped out of her 4.5” black leather heels and into a pair of 5” black peep toe stilettos with a subtle rhinestone accent where her highly manicured toes appeared. Danielle then proceeded to undo and remove both her bra and thong panties before again posing in front of the mirror. Reaching into a small white bag on her desk labelled Agent Provocateur, Mrs. Parnell pulled out a sexy grey pinstripe thong along with a matching push up bra with a tiny tie where the cups met in the front. After putting the lingerie on she gazed at the mirror lustily.

“Who’s the boss now baby,” she cooed, “tell me, who’s the boss now?”

With that, and drunk with her own self-worth, the Worldwide Managing Partner of SmythKnight pulled on her little black cocktail dress. With a wide strap over each shoulder, and an appropriately high neckline, the Dior frock tightly encased the beautiful lawyer’s ample chest and toned mid-section while exquisitely profiling her incredibly fit arms. At the waist, the dress puffed out in the style of many a similar cocktail skirt and went down to a few inches above Danielle’s knees. After touching up her makeup, blowing out her hair and accessorizing her look with a diamond tennis bracelet, a diamond watch, two carat diamond earrings and a conservative diamond necklace, Mrs. Danielle Parnell took one long last look at her mirror. “I’m the boss baby – and now it’s time to show these losers why.”

As Danielle made her way back to the stage, Jerry Sarano emerged from the men’s room wearing the new three piece suit that he had purchased just for the finale. Despite Danielle’s idiotic assistant delivering it to him an hour later than planned, he loved how good it looked on him and knew the women in the audience would appreciate it as well. Seeing Danielle approaching, the two walked back through the curtain onto the stage together. Jerry took his seat next to Linda Bertrand while Danielle once again strutted down the runway. With a little bit more of a sway in her hips than usual, the glorious lawyer looked like a goddess – and she and the men whose eyes were glued to her loved every second of her march.

Linda Bertrand was worried as Karen Manley and Lauren Butcher glared at her. Karen spoke first, angrily whispering, “I thought you were going to make a fool of her tonight. That’s what you told us. What’s going on?”

Linda was crestfallen, “I don’t know, I weakened the seams – all of them. I thought . . . well . . . I guess it didn’t work.”

Of course not, thought Karen. Little Miss Perfect had outwitted them yet again and was basking in her own glory while she, Lauren and everyone else looked on helplessly. Stepping back up to the podium, Danielle noticed the two women whispering.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Bertrand . . . Mrs. Manley . . . is there a problem,” she scolded them, “do you have something more important to do this evening than focus on our children?” Uncomfortable laughter was spreading through the crowd. For the men looking on, the image of the sexy, sophisticated and domineering Mrs. Parnell shaming her two colleagues was intoxicating. The women in the crowd on the other hand, many who had suffered Danielle’s withering reproaches, sympathized with Linda and Karen. They knew something needed to be done but were too terrified to act.

“Well – do you,” Danielle loudly implored. The two humiliated women sat silently – looking more like chastised children than adult professionals. “I didn’t think so,” finished Danielle.

“And Mrs. Butcher,” Danielle added coldly, loving the opportunity to further humiliate these losers, “please do sit up straight won’t you. We don’t want our children to learn bad habits. Now if the three of you would be so kind as to give me your attention, we could all watch a brief film that our IT department has put together profiling today’s events.”

As Mrs. Parnell took a seat in the folding chair next to her son Will, the lights in the atrium dimmed and a film was projected onto the screen that was lowered onto the stage. With images of SmythKnight’s impressive headquarters filling the screen, Jerry Sarano’s voice was heard extolling the virtues of the firm and describing the “Take Your Kids to Work Day” program. That segued into footage that had been taken that day. Titles such as “The Welcome,” “What We Do,” “Lunch Break,” “Kids in Court” and “A SmythKnight Family Dinner” were followed respectively by pictures of Mrs. Parnell welcoming the kids, staff and lawyers sharing their knowledge, the fun filled lunch, the mock trial exercise and the hundreds of lawyers, staff and children enjoying the dinner that had been served only a short time before.

Finally the title “And Now for a Little (Very Little) Bit of Fashion” popped up on the screen. As the crowd began to laugh, Danielle was immediately annoyed. She had approved the titles herself and the final one was to read, simply, “The Fashion Show.” What had that idiot Bertrand done now she thought to herself? That girl is finished here if she thinks she can embarrass me like this. But the embarrassment for Mrs. Parnell had only just begun. As the film portrayed the firm’s gorgeous managing partner strutting down the runway in her A-line dress, the staid violin soundtrack suddenly faded away and the screen momentarily went blank.

What happened next shocked everyone. As the screen came back to life it once again showed the lovely Mrs. Parnell in her appropriate A-line dress. But now she appeared to be standing in a library of sorts and the camera angle, although filming her from behind, also captured her image from the front via a large mirror into which she appeared to be staring intently. As everyone looked on quizzically, the woman on film – Mrs. Danielle Parnell -- could be heard complementing herself “you looked perfect out there. Those men couldn’t take their eyes off you and their fat wives couldn’t do a thing about it.”

As gasps of shock began to spread, and the anger of the crowd palpably rose, Danielle could sense the daggers being looked her way in the darkness. She had to do something. But before she even processed what her next move might be, the image on screen changed yet again. There on film for all to see, and wearing only her 5” peep toe stilettos, her sexy grey pinstripe thong and a matching push up bra with a tiny tie where the cups meet in the front, was Mrs. Danielle Parnell, Esquire.

“Who’s the boss now baby,” the woman on film cooed wantonly at her reflection, “tell me, who’s the boss now?”

And then, as the image changed a final time to show Danielle facing the mirror as she cupped her barely bra encased breasts together and blew herself a kiss, a voice over, clearly Mrs. Parnell’s, could be heard to say, “I’m the boss baby – and now it’s time to show these losers why.” With that the screen went blank and the lights came up.

The now mortified uber mom, her mouth hanging open in shock, knew she needed to act and to act fast. The women in the crowd had already begun to laugh uproariously loving the fact that the snob who had mocked, degraded and humiliated them for years had finally gotten a taste of her own medicine. Karen Manley and Lauren Butcher each gave Linda Bertrand a big thumbs up thinking this was the surprise she planned.

But this was not Mrs. Parnell’s first rodeo. She didn’t end up where she was by retreating in the face of adversity. In her mind she was still the managing partner of SmythKnight and it was time to reassert her authority as she purposefully began to rise from her seat and head to the podium.

What started next was the beginning of the end of Danielle Parnell, Esquire. Although Alia, the Parnell family nanny, had escorted young Anna and Maria Parnell off the stage before the lights came up, Danielle’s son Will remained rooted in his chair. Unsure of the feelings welling up inside him the poor boy looked catatonic. That said, and unbeknownst to his mother, as he shifted in his chair to watch the film that now had rendered him paralyzed, Will had managed to pin the hem of the puffy skirt of his mom’s cocktail dress between the dead weight of his hip and his folding chair. That fact coupled with Linda Bertrand having snipped most of the threads attaching said skirt to the upper part of Mrs. Parnell’s dress was the predicate for what happened next. As Danielle marched fearlessly to the rostrum at center stage, a loud rip could be heard throughout the Atrium. There for all to see, now live, was the haughty Mrs. Danielle Parnell wearing only her 5” high heels, pin stripe thong and upper half of her once elegant and after hours “work appropriate” cocktail dress.

“Oh my God,” screamed the once imperious lawyer, “my skirt . . . oh my God . . . Will.” But as she turned around to look for her son all she saw was him passing out backwards through the curtain, her skirt clutched tightly in his hand.

“This has gone far enough,” huffed Jerry Sarano, as he took off the jacket of his three piece suit and began heading for Danielle.

“Oh no you don’t” cried Linda Bertrand who, reaching out to grab Jerry caught only the collar of his shirt. But, having herself weakened the suit’s seams earlier, she pulled with all her might and, as the crowd looked on, the arrogant Jerry Sarano was stripped of both his shirt and vest. This was almost too much for the assembled throng to bear. Mr. Perfect, having shaved all of his chest and stomach hair, stood before them wearing only pants, shoes and a tie. Danielle meanwhile, in an effort to flee behind the curtain to safety, was confronted by the six-foot frame of Lauren Butcher who, for the first time in her life, was standing very tall.

“Get out of my way now Lurch,” demanded Mrs. Parnell, unable, even in the most trying circumstances to be anything but rude.

“That’s it you little pipsqueak,” bellowed Lauren, “it’s time somewhat taught you a lesson.”

As Danielle turned to run, Mrs. Butcher caught her by the shoulder straps of her once elegant cocktail dress which, thanks to the handy work of Linda Bertrand, tore away with a two-fold effect. First, it left Danielle in only her thong, bra and heels. Second, it caused the once regal narcissist to fall forward. To break that fall, Danielle grabbed onto the first thing she could reach which, unfortunately for Jerry Sarano, was the beltless waist of his fashionable but seam weakened suit pants. In a scene that would do Vaudeville proud, Danielle managed to tear those pants right off him revealing a neon pink man-thong covering what appeared to be a truly impressive package. But appearances can be deceiving and as Danielle struggled to recover from her fall she grabbed the podium with one hand and the slim waist band of Mr. Sarano’s thong with the other. As his ridiculous underwear slid from his hairless legs, a rolled up sock fell to the floor revealing, even with every hair shaved away, what can only be described as some very, very small equipment. More humiliated than he ever could have imagined, the one-time self-described “Italian Stallion,” now wearing only loafers and a tie, ran red-faced from the stage and was never seen in the halls of SmythKnight again.

Finally back on her feet, Danielle found herself face-to-face with Linda Bertrand.

“Nothing to say, have we,” mocked Linda, who sitting down on the nearest folding chair roughly pulled the stunned Mrs. Parnell over her knee. As the cheers of the gathered women gave her strength, Ms. Bertrand felt liberated.

“You’ve had this coming for a long time you little show-off -- strutting around here in your high heels and tight clothes – teasing the men and humiliating the women. Well now it’s time for a little payback.”

“Spank that tease’s ass,” shouted Karen Manley.

“Strip her first,” screamed Lauren Butcher.

Bending her head down toward her former boss’ ear Linda whispered “should I strip you first Mrs. Parnell?”

“No – please don’t” croaked the defeated Danielle.

“I think that will depend on the answer to a question,” smiled Linda.

“Anything you want,” pleaded the humiliated attorney.

“Who’s the boss now,” asked Linda quietly as she began to spank Mrs. Parnell’s firm ass.

“What did you say” asked Danielle. “I mean . . . me . . . I . . . I am the boss,” she said, only half believing it.

“Wrong answer,” yelled Linda, who then unceremoniously unclipped Danielle’s bra and threw it into the crowd.

“Who’s the boss now,” Linda repeated, spanking Danielle’s bottom more forcefully.

Biting her tongue but knowing any further resistance was futile, Danielle quietly answered, “you’re the boss Linda.”

“I can’t hear you,” shouted Linda, now raining swats down on her former tormenters reddening bottom.

“You’re the boss Linda,” screamed Danielle.

“You’re the boss who,” came Linda Bertrand’s reply.

“You’re the boss Ms. Bertrand ma’am. You’re the boss and I’m nothing . . . nothing but a naughty little tease . . . ma’am . . . a naughty and inappropriate girl.”

“You are an inappropriate girl,” aren’t you Danni, “and I don’t think you’re fit for your current job. Do you?”

Danielle’s head was spinning. Not fit for her job, but she was Mrs. Danielle Parnell Esquire, a gorgeous, brilliant, authoritative leader. She could control any man with her beauty as easily as she could dominate any woman with her wiles. Every man wanted her . . . didn’t they? Linda Bertrand is nobody . . . a peon. But as her mind conjured thoughts of what was soon to be her former life, Danielle’s voice at last betrayed her.

“No, Ms. Bertrand, ma’am,” squeaked the once dominant Mrs. Parnell, “I’m not fit to be the leader of this prestigious firm . . . I . . . I . . .”

“You what Danni girl,” asked Linda sweetly.

“I quit, ma’am” whispered Danielle.

With that, and to the cheers of the lawyers, staff and families of SmythKnight, Linda Bertrand rolled the once all-powerful Mrs. Parnell to the floor and, tearing the pin striped thong from her now swollen but still fantastic ass, sent the naked prima donna literally running for cover.
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Old 10-13-2014, 01:16 PM
Alexandra80 Alexandra80 is offline
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I think that's you best story so far! The scene of stripping was truly amazing.

I guess that you don't write sequels but would love to read about Danielle and Jerry adventures more...
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Old 10-13-2014, 10:42 PM
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Thanks Alexandra! As always, your kind comments are most appreciated. As you note, I'm somewhat reluctant to go the sequel route insofar as I think it's the first time that an arrogant woman (or man) gets her comeuppance that really packs a punch. That said, I was thinking of subjecting Mrs. Parnell to a an old time Beginner's Luck stripping next and may try to find a way to work Jerry on as well (no guarantees). Glad you enjoyed!
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Old 10-14-2014, 10:09 AM
DrVillian DrVillian is offline
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Nice chapter again keep up the great work !!!
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Old 10-14-2014, 03:20 PM
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Gracias Doc -- your kind words are always appreciated and welcome!
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