[ENF] Will’s Mom Comes Undone

[Chasmo]

Had Norman Rockwell set out to paint a particular American town, it would have been Davidson, Maryland. Nestled along the South River, the leafy village evoked a simpler time. Davidson's homes, a mix of large but unimposing white clapboard and brick manses, often set back from its quiet tree lined streets by expansive well-manicured lawns, evidenced a quiet, kind and confident prosperity. Although its residents found themselves almost equidistant between Baltimore and Washington, D.C. -- each a mere 20 or so miles away and where many of Davidson's townsfolk worked -- the bucolic bedroom community was a mere five minute drive from Maryland's harbor front capital of Annapolis, and it was there that many of the good people of Davidson would while away their spring and summer hours. In fact, the spectacular environs of downtown Annapolis, home to the United States Naval Academy and -- long ago for a very short time -- the capital of the United States, hosted many a charitable event that relied on its coffers being filled by Davidson's affluent residents.

One of the most renowned of these, which drew participants and spectators alike from all around the Annapolis area, was Davidson's annual "PAWS for the Cause" held each year in early June. The daylong event, which raised money for local animal welfare, consisted of a host of activities including a pet washing station, doggy obstacle course, adoption fair, silent auction and -- at day's end -- a fashion parade where dog owners of all stripes and their pets would walk the "runway" together for the entertainment of the assembled throng. Like Davidson itself, and as Rockwell would have painted it, PAWS for the Cause was all-American fun -- neither showy nor brash.

The same could not be said for one of Davidson's most prominent, and arguably most attractive, residents -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell. Easing her very showy white 2014 Range Rover Sport into an available spot in downtown Annapolis -- brashly pulling in despite another driver -- Rachel Miras -- waiting patiently for the space to open -- the fetching alpha-mom prepared to drop off her three kids, their dalmatian Charlie and the Parnell family nanny, Alia, for the morning kick-off of this year's PAWS for the Cause. Stepping out into the June air, the spectacularly fit 43 year old stunner caught the attention of every man around. As the sun glinted off the front of her mirrored aviator shades, those lucky enough to spy her were treated to the sight of her well-tanned and toned legs standing atop a pair of 4.5", yellow, peep-toe, wedge heels; her flawless ass hugged by a pair of white jean shorts that came down barely to mid-thigh -- appropriate but spectacular. A long yellow, black and white flowered scarf ran beneath the belt loops of her shorts and, up top, the fashionable Mrs. Parnell wore a very form fitting black cotton tank that emphasized nicely the swell of her ample 34C breasts as well as her tight midsection and fit arms. Danielle's shoulder length brown hair, that framed her beautiful, emerald-eyed face, blew gently in the warm summer breeze.

"Stay out of trouble you three -- and keep any eye on Charlie," the gorgeous mom directed her offspring, "and nothing inappropriate -- do you hear me."

"Yes mom," the three Parnell kids -- Will, 13, Anna 11 and Maria 9 -- echoed in chorus, "nothing inappropriate."

"Mind those attitudes," replied their mother not even half kidding, "or you'll find yourselves back home in no time." And then, to Alia, Danielle continued, "keep an eye on them will you, I'll be back later for the fashion parade -- this town won't know what hit them when they see what I've got planned."

"Of course, Mrs. Parnell," said Alia sweetly while thinking to herself that her boss certainly had no lack of ego.

As the ceaselessly sexy lawyer sashayed to the local Starbucks to grab her trademark cappuccino for the short ride home, the fantastic motion of her pert bottom became the instant focus of soccer dads, weekend warriors and mailmen alike -- and Danielle Parnell loved it. To her, the thrill of teasing men was matched by very few things. Among them was the joy she felt when, upon "catching" an unsuspecting man spying her beauty, she publicly and loudly took him to task with a, "what would your wife think of the way you're looking at me Mr. Smith," or a "how dare you, Mr. Jones." The delight the haughty uber-MILF got from actually calling out men, however, was dwarfed by the elation she derived from the impact their emasculation had on the chastened men's wives and girlfriends because, at the top of Danielle Parnell's list of favorite things, was the love she had for herself. In her mind, other women existed merely to confirm her own superiority -- in her presence the universe of dowdy soccer moms, overweight Zumba class attendees and stay-at-home haus fraus simply ceased to exist -- and they knew it -- losers.

Smiling as she thought about the lustful looks directed at her, Danielle pulled open the door to the world's most popular coffee establishment and, walking in, spied a collection of the very women she despised. Sitting at a small table sipping on their caffeine laden libations were Katherine Wray, Rachel Miras and Nicole Silver. As she raised her expensive sunglasses from the slope of her perfect nose to the top of her windblown hair, Mrs. Parnell flashed her best fake smile at her three "lesser" neighbors.

"Why good morning Danielle," enthused the waifish Katherine Wray, "are you excited for the big day?"

The 5' 8" strawberry-blonde Mrs. Wray, an avid runner and Nashville native, whose own legs were nothing to sneeze at, offended Danielle least of the three women. In fact, the ever-confident Mrs. Parnell suspected the athletic Mrs. Wray's marriage was a mere beard and that the closeted bi-sexual Katherine harbored a secret crush on her.

"Not as excited as you are to see me I'm sure," Danielle offered condescendingly. As the equally titillated and humiliated Mrs. Wray blushed, the self-confident Mrs. Parnell silently added to herself with a smile, "and you can look all you want dear, but I don't swing that way and if I did you'd never make the cut."

With the prospect of lording over these "nobodies" coursing through her icy veins, the preening diva turned to Rachel Miras, "will you be accompanying that bull dog of yours again in the fashion show Rachel? It's just adorable how much you favor one other -- like mother and son."

The short, squat Mrs. Miras who was working harder than ever to lose some weight, seethed inwardly at the sharp barb but -- intimidated to her core by Danielle -- outwardly simply smiled stupidly. Mrs. Parnell on the other hand reveled in the cowed woman's discomfort delighting in the fact that within 10 minutes not only had she taken Rachel's parking spot but left her looking the fool.

Finally, as the handsome young male barista handed the haughty lawyer her cappuccino -- "on the house" -- Mrs. Parnell set her sights on the red-headed Nicole Silver who, like Danielle, was a lawyer in Washington, D.C.

"Will your son and that troublesome mutt of yours be performing for us again this year Nicole," Danielle provoked Mrs. Silver, referring to an unfortunate incident the year before when Louie -- the Silver family's 100 pound standard poodle -- caught wind of a squirrel as Nicole's young son Julian was walking him down the doggy fashion show runway. The poor boy, who though eighteen years old at the time still looked all of about twelve, was dragged off his feet, through a puddle of mud and out of his khaki shorts before he finally gave up the ghost and let go of the leash. Danielle of course, who had a front row seat to the unfortunate episode, was delighted by the "little nerd's" undoing and in a voice she thought to be sotto voce was overheard by those around her to comment to no one in particular "nice 'manties' he's wearing -- do you think he shares those with his mom?"

Both enraged and mortified by the mention of poor Jules' former misfortune, and with her voice controlled but strained, the 5'8", big-boned but by no means fat, Norwegian beauty responded, "actually Danielle, I'll be escorting Louie in tonight's charity fashion parade."

"What a relief," Danielle falsely empathized, "with someone your size on the leash any further secrets of your family's underpants -- thank God -- will likely remain unknown."

Nicole was rendered speechless and Danielle loved it. Somehow putting the Silver woman in her place provided Mrs. Parnell her greatest rush. Who does that Silver think she is anyway, she laughed to herself. The half-wit probably got her law degree through the mail . . . and the way she's always flaunting that chest of hers -- classless. A woman like that simply needs to be told who's boss -- smiled the glamorous alpha mom -- and now she knows -- it's me.

Feeling on top of the world, the sexy Mrs. Danielle Parnell pushed open the coffee house door and, as every male neck snapped to watch, strutted to her car with a broad smile on her beautiful face and a little extra sway in her shapely hips.

"Can you believe that woman," raged Nicole Silver at her coffee mates. "She strolls in here with her high heels and tight little shorts and proceeds to make fools of us while we do nothing about it. Why what I wouldn't give to take that little tease down a peg or two."

"You," countered the equally angry Rachel Miras, "she stole my parking spot . . . and told me I look like my dog. I don't . . . do I?"

"Of course you don't you ninny," scolded the still apoplectic Mrs. Silver. "Don't you see, that's what she wants . . . to undermine our confidence. She casually puts us down . . . you look like your dog . . . I'm too fat and my poor son is a panty-waisted nerd . . . Katherine over there is a lesbian . . . and then while we sit here -- stunned and humiliated -- she smiles, flips her hair and struts away."

"She's the one who needs to have that giant ego of hers undermined -- to be humiliated," continued Nicole.

Trying to break the tension, and lustfully imagining Mrs. Parnell's undoing, the aroused Mrs. Wray offered with a big smile, "boy would I like to see that . . . mmmm."

"Me too," laughed Mrs. Miras also picturing in her head a scenario where the ordinarily unflappable Mrs. Parnell was the one on the receiving end for once, "but let's just forget about it and enjoy the day."

"Forget about it," Nicole Silver practically shouted, "what do you mean forget about it? We have to do something . . ."

"Let it go Nicole," advised Katherine Wray in her soft Southern accent, "it's really nothing."

"Fine, if the two of you want to be losers -- have at it" blustered Nicole, "I'm taking a stand. Two can play at her game you know."

And then, getting up hastily to abandon her two friends, and without taking a moment to measure her words, Mrs. Nicole Silver arrogantly proclaimed, "once the men of this town catch a glimpse of me on the runway tonight they won't have a second thought for Little Miss Perfect."

As the statuesque redhead stormed off, the Starbucks door slamming behind her, Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray burst into laughter.

"She's almost as bad as the other one," Rachel joked.

"No kidding," added Katherine Wray smiling, "the two of them deserve each other."

Still giddy from the serving of humble pie she had heaped upon her pathetic neighbors earlier in the day, and having since then worked-out at her very exclusive gym to hone her spectacular body and stopped by an equally upscale spa for a massage, manicure, pedicure and haircut, the sultry Mrs. Parnell eased her high-end SUV down the long driveway to the Parnell family home to begin getting ready for the PAWS for the Cause fashion parade.

Although Danielle had promised her youngest daughter, the 9 year old Maria, that she could walk the runway tonight with the family dalmatian Charlie -- Mrs. Parnell still planned on looking her best.

"After all," she laughed to herself, "I owe the men of Davidson something hot to fantasize about when they make love to their hum drum wives."

"Of course," she smiled inwardly, looking at her nude reflection upon stepping from the tub in her exclusive marble bathroom, "that fantasy is the closest any of those losers will ever get to actually seeing this body."

Once the stunning solicitor had toweled off, slipped on her short silk robe and expertly made up her beautiful face -- taking care to apply a fire engine red gloss to her luscious lips -- she began to dress for the event. Although she and her three children would all be wearing some version of white outfits with black spots to show family unity for their over-sized dalmatian's big night -- Danielle had planned something special to wear beneath her otherwise innocent frock. Opening the small brown box on her dressing table -- that had arrived from a novelty lingerie shop only the day before -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell pulled out the tiniest of thongs. The translucent white lace triangle of fabric in front -- bedecked with black dalmatian spots -- was joined to the tiniest of similarly styled lace triangles behind by a bright red spaghetti thin waistband. But the coup de grace of the sexy panty was the word embroidered in silver glitter across its tiny front panel -- Cruella. As the suburban sexpot pulled the micro garment on over her perfect hips she chuckled to herself, "one look at this body and old Walt would melt right out of cryonic suspension."

After fastening the matching dalmatian push-up bra over her ample 34C breasts, Mrs. Parnell stepped into a pair of patent leather 5" peep-toe pumps each with a high black heel in support of a white shoe with black spots. Looking into the mirror the uber-MILF put her hands on her hips, turned to the side and, bending at the knees, pushed her fabulous ass out behind her. Lustfully admiring her fantastic reflection, and in her sexiest voice, the hot little lawyer pouted, "bark like a dog baby!!! Who's a bad girl? Who's a bad girl!! I am -- that's who."

Blowing a kiss to herself as she stood up, the devilish diva pulled on a white mini-skirt, bedecked with black dalmatian spots, that flared out from her incredibly toned waist and came down to just below mid-thigh. On top, the gorgeous attorney wore a tight black cotton ribbed tank top that showed off her incredibly fit arms as well as her firm, pert breasts. The black and white pearl choker she wore around her supple neck complemented the bracelets she wore on each wrist. To finish the look, Mrs. Parnell tied back her luxurious brown mane with a dalmatian spotted white silk scarf. Grabbing her oversize white leather Versace tote as she headed for the door, Danielle caught her reflection in the large hallway mirror in the Parnell foyer. Satisfied as always with her beauty and sex appeal, and reveling in the impact she'd soon have on the feckless men of Davidson -- and their loser wives -- the stunning alpha mom cooed lustfully at her reflection, "you're the hottest b*tch in town, baby."

And with that, Mrs. Parnell strutted out her front door for the short drive into Annapolis.

While her boss was primping at home, Alia, the Parnell family nanny, was busy making sure Will, Anna and Maria got changed into their dalmatian themed outfits and that Charlie got himself a good cleaning at the pet washing station. The 22 year old Ph.D. candidate, who had been watching the Parnell children now for almost four years, genuinely loved her three charges. The future professor was also quite fond of her high-powered boss -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell, Esquire -- who she knew cared for her kids if in her own unique way.

That said, on days like these, where their forceful mom pushed her offspring to dress in matching outfits, Alia certainly sympathized with their resistance and, having agreeably donned her own dalmatian themed ensemble to watch Charlie and Maria walk in the upcoming fashion parade, shared their embarrassment. All in all though, it was a small price to pay for an otherwise great job and, as Will, Anna and Maria emerged from the public restrooms nearest the PAWS for the Cause runway, the three of them and Alia, with Charlie in tow, waived at the family SUV pulling up nearby.

As the glamorous Mrs. Parnell stepped from the Range Rover's driver side door to greet her waiting family, every man within view craned his neck to take notice. Outfitted in her 5" polka dotted heels, flared white mini skirt with black spots that mimicked her nearby dalmatian and tight black tank-top, the suburban goddess was a fantasy-come-alive -- and she knew it. Turning around to see her kids and Alia, the gorgeous Danielle coolly but dismissively eyed her admirers deeming them completely unworthy of the object of their desire -- namely, herself -- but at the same time relishing the attention she knew they couldn't resist giving her -- the losers. With that, the now united Parnell clan, along with Charlie and Alia, headed for their seats.

In order to host the PAWS for the Cause fashion parade, the boardwalk that ran in from the foot of Annapolis harbor to the nearby, tree-lined parking lot had been transformed into a makeshift runway. A large white tent, complete with a curtain from where the evening's "models" would make their entrance covered the intersection between the boardwalk and the brick lined sidewalk that ran along the water's edge. On either side of the runway, perched upon the large green grass field that otherwise separated the parking lot from the water, were hundreds of white wooden folding chairs from where the families, friends, casual observers and donors of the annual pet parade would take in the evening's show.

As she led her small brood to their reserved seats along the boardwalk's edge, Mrs. Danielle Parnell, with a little extra sway in her hips, drank in the stares of the good men of Annapolis and Davidson, each of whom -- to her delight if not her surprise -- couldn't fail to notice the diminutive beauty's raw sex appeal. What's more, Danielle reveled in the consternation that the men's wives and girlfriends, on the one hand, directed at said men for ignoring them and on the other, focused on Danielle -- and her regal, incomparable beauty -- for stealing their men's attention.

"Let's face it ladies," she thought to herself in complete satisfaction, "they all want me . . . and you all want to be me."

Once the contented diva and her kids reached their seats, Danielle dispatched Alia to accompany Maria and what seemed a particularly excitable Charlie backstage for the show.

Meanwhile, from behind the curtained tent, Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray spotted the narcissistic Mrs. Parnell taking her seat for the show.

"Well it looks like ‘Miss Look at Me' has finally arrived," quipped Rachel, still smarting from being compared to her bulldog Max.

"It's hard to believe she’s going to let her daughter walk with their dog. I mean seriously, would you look at the outfit that woman is in," the annoyed Mrs. Miras continued, "those heels are half as tall as she is. And that dalmatian mini-skirt -- she sure makes a convincing Cruella De Vil." Little did Mrs. Miras know how right she was -- and how soon her hunch would be confirmed.

"She really is sexy though," Mrs. Wray uttered with bated breath just out of the earshot of her friend.

"What did you say," queried Rachel.

"Ah . . . nothing . . . have you seen Nicole," answered Katherine, suppressing her desire for Mrs. Parnell but also genuinely curious, after Mrs. Silver's earlier temper tantrum, whether the stunning redhead would even make an appearance.

"I haven't, said Rachel glancing down at her watch, "and you should head out there and get a seat."

As Katherine walked out to the audience Rachel shouted, "wish us luck," while patting her bulldog Max on the head."

"Good luck," Katherine said with a smile, "see you on the other side."

With that, the annual PAWS for the Cause doggy fashion parade began. As had become a ritual, and in no small part due to the U.S. Naval Academy being located in downtown Annapolis, the show kicked off with a rousing rendition of the Star Spangled Banner sung by the academy choir. As the midshipmen, mostly young strong men, serenaded the crowd with the National Anthem, Mrs. Danielle Parnell took the moment to stand a bit taller and push out her ample chest a bit farther in order to make clear to those muscular boys what they had pledged to defend. Knowing her private "salute to the troops" did not go unnoticed fed the preening prima donna's ego even further.

Once the flag had been honored, the event's hostess, Rebecca Ross, began to introduce the parade's participants. Duo after duo of man -- or woman -- and beast walked the runway to the polite applause of the crowd. Adam Hess, Rebecca Ross' husband, and his great dane Ranger, Rachel Miras and Max, the admittedly adorable Maria Parnell and Charlie and a host of other pups and their human companions helped raise awareness for a great cause while at the same time not taking themselves too seriously.

Finally, Mrs. Ross announced that the next pair would the final one of the evening. Thereafter, she explained, she and three lucky kids from Davidson Elementary School -- the "judges" -- would pick their two favorite dogs of the evening and those lucky canines, and their owners, would take one last walk down the runway before a winner was selected.

"So," announced the buxom, blonde Rebecca Ross, who in Danielle's estimation undeservedly ended up with a particularly handsome husband, "without further ado, I present to you the final pair of the night, Mrs. Nicole Silver and her standard poodle Louie."

What began as polite if not somewhat tired applause before the tent's curtain was pulled back quickly escalated into a crescendo of cheers -- particularly from the men in the audience, including the clearly enthusiastic singing Middies who had remained to watch the show. What prompted the excitement, as Louie led the way, was the mouthwatering sight of Mrs. Nicole Silver.

The stunning 5'8" redhead walked behind her well-heeled pooch in a pair of 5.5" blue silk platform heels. The towering shoes in turn supported a gorgeous pair of powerful calves and thighs covered in black fishnet hose but sadly visible only until they met her blue silk "poodle" skirt right a few inches above her knee. The fabulously retro skirt was complemented on top by a very tight, very low cut, black, short sleeved-sweater, buttoned in front, that highlighted the scarlet maned Mrs. Silver's 36D breasts. Around her waist was a black leather belt with a large gold buckle and her flowing red locks had been tied into a pony tail by a teal blue scarf that matched her skirt and shoes. The Nordic goddess beamed as she followed her dog along the makeshift runway and, as if to prove that there was a new sheriff in town, gazed disdainfully down at one Danielle Parnell who, to Nicole's delight, looked equally stupefied and infuriated.

"You go mom," yelled Jules Silver from the seat immediately behind that occupied by Danielle.

"Be quiet you little dork," snapped Danielle at the now terrified 18 year old who remembered how Mrs. Parnell had added to his mortification a year ago with her "manties" comment.

"Mom," Anna Parnell quipped, "cut it out, you're embarrassing us."

"You be quiet too, Missy," she reprimanded her daughter.

And then, noticing that her 13 year old son, who was in the throes of puberty, couldn't peel his eyes from the swaying hips of Mrs. Silver, grabbed him forcefully by the arm.

"Just what do you think you're looking at young man," she chided her now humiliated boy.

"Sorry mom," croaked Will.

But it wasn't just her son that was mesmerized. As the redheaded "glamazon" turned to make her way back to the tent from where she first emerged, Danielle realized that every man there was captivated by Mrs. Silver. Of course, any ordinary woman would have simply let it pass -- would have let someone else bask in the limelight for once. But Mrs. Danielle Parnell was no ordinary woman. In fact, in her mind, she was quite extra-ordinary and was not one to be outdone. She needed to reassert her dominance -- but how?

Before the answer to that question presented itself, Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray -- who stood together to the side of the runway -- reacted to the vision that was Nicole Silver.

"I guess Nicole wasn't kidding," exclaimed Katherine, aroused more than a bit by the gorgeous redhead, "every man here seems to have their eyes on her."

"I know. And look at Mrs. Parnell over there. She is clearly out of sorts . . . this is really getting under her skin," Rachel happily chimed in. "But do you notice anything funny about Nicole's ‘look’ tonight. I know she's always talking about the gym but I never realized before quite how small her waist had become. And while there's no denying she has a great rack . . . well, it never seemed quite this great."

"Whose jealous now," Katherine joked.

"Maybe you're right," conceded Mrs. Miras, but inside she was unconvinced that Mrs. Nicole Silver was everything she appeared to be.

As the two Davidson ladies gossiped, Rebecca Ross once again stepped up to the microphone to announce the evening's finalists.

"After serious consideration," Mrs. Ross began "and with a hearty thanks to everyone -- man, woman, boy, girl and dog alike -- who participated in tonight's show, the judges and I have come to a decision."

As one of the pint-sized judges handed her a big red envelope, Rebecca Ross excitedly announced "and the two finalists are -- Maria Parnell and her dalmatian Charlie . . ."

With the crowd clapping enthusiastically, 9 year old Maria threw up her hands in triumph and gave Charlie a big hug. For her this was nothing but fun and, win or lose, she was happy to walk her dog down the runway one more time.

As the cheers for the happy young girl subsided, Mrs. Ross continued, "and . . . Mrs. Nicole Silver and Louie the poodle."

The mere prospect of seeing Mrs. Silver strut her stuff again caused the assembled men in attendance to go crazy, drowning out what had been no small amount of cheering for Maria. And while the youngest Parnell neither noticed nor cared about the relative volume of the crowd, her mother -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell -- already piqued at what she saw as the usurpation by the shameless Silver woman of her rightful role as Queen Bee, was presented with an answer to her earlier question of what to do about it. Storming from her white wooden chair, the ordinarily unflappable Mrs. Parnell headed purposefully for the tent where Maria and Charlie were preparing to take one more stroll down the runway.

"Maria," she said dispassionately, "mommy is going to walk Charlie down the runway this time."

"But mom . . . Charlie and I won . . . they already announced it," pleaded Maria. "It's not fair."

"Sometimes life isn't fair Maria. Now stop being a baby and go sit down with your sister and brother before you embarrass yourself any further," snipped her unsympathetic mother. "Alia, take her back to the seats."

Knowing it was no use arguing, the youngest Parnell child gave Charlie a hug and headed out with Alia saying, "someday mom will get embarrassed too and then she'll know how it feels." From the mouths of babes . . . that day was now at hand.

Having witnessed the scene just described, Nicole Silver was in heaven. Not only had she stolen all male attention from that little Parnell tease but she had clearly undermined Danielle’s self-confidence as well. All that remained was to best her in the eyes of the evening's gathered men in a head-to-head walk off down the runway. If only Nicole had remembered that hubris killed the Athenians.

"Our first finalist tonight, walking with her poodle Louie, is Mrs. Nicole Silver," began Rebecca Ross, "let's hear it for Louie and Nicole."

Supremely confident, the stylish Mrs. Silver walked from behind the tent's curtain out onto the runway as the crowd -- especially its male members -- exploded into applause. With her head held high, Nicole flashed her perfect smile, purposefully catching the eye of many a man looking her way. In her towering heels she swayed her hips to an almost obscene degree drinking in the adulation that she knew followed her tight bottom as she walked.

As Louie and Nicole reached the end of the runway to begin their return, Mrs. Ross - who had not seen Danielle take her daughter's place -- announced the second finalist.

"Last but by no means least, walking with her family dalmatian Charlie, please give a big hand to little Maria Parnell."

Expecting to see the beaming face of nine year old Maria follow the big dalmatian from behind the curtain, the crowd was at first taken aback by the sight of her incredibly sexy mother. But, at least for the good men of Annapolis, any momentary disappointment was immediately replaced with delight. Strutting down the runway in her 5" patent leather, black and white spotted, peekaboo heels, her mid-thigh, flared, dalmatian patterned mini-skirt and her skin-tight, ribbed, black cotton tank top, Mrs. Danielle Parnell quickly reasserted herself as the "top dog" at the show -- and she knew it. With a little extra sway in her own fabulous walk, the imperious mother of three prowled the catwalk like a pro.

Nicole Silver's blood boiled as she realized that the diminutive sex-kitten had stolen her thunder yet again. Unfortunately for Mrs. Silver though, the lapse in concentration brought about by that realization caused her to miss a rather large space between two slats on the wooden boardwalk within which one of her dizzyingly high heels unceremoniously became trapped. To the joy of most of the women in the crowd -- who didn't know which of the runway's two travelers they liked less -- the once confident redhead quickly began to lose her composure as she tried without success to bring Louie to heel while freeing her trapped shoe.

Mindful of the humiliation he suffered last year when Louie became distracted on his watch, 18 year old Julian Silver leaped quickly to his mother's aid. Bounding past Alia and the three Parnell kids sitting in front of him, the aspiring gallant called out, "don't worry mom, I'll save you."

Unfortunately for the painfully awkward teen, his attempted leap onto the boardwalk was merely the first act in an ensuing comedy of errors. Tripping over the taught leash that separated his mom from the increasingly agitated Louie, young Jules began to fall. Instinctively and desperately grabbing for something to break his descent, and to the impending mortification of his mother, he sn*tched the waist of Nicole's poodle skirt which was torn clear off the sexy redhead's body.

"Oh my God -- no -- my skirt," screamed the once supremely confident Mrs. Silver who was suddenly revealed not in the sexy thong or lacy booty shorts that, to a man, was being imagined as cupping her tight bottom, but in a very unflattering black, open bottom, spandex girdle that ended just an inch or two above her thigh high fishnet stockings.

As the crowd burst into hysterics, Julian Silver, in an effort to regain his footing, found himself tangled again in Louie's leash which his mortified mother had released from the hand she was now futilely using to shield her Spanx covered bottom. As the startled poodle attempted to bound away, momentarily but solidly colliding with Charlie and the hysterically laughing Mrs. Parnell, the disoriented teen's feet were swept from beneath him and, tumbling headlong into his now dazed mom, the hapless Julian managed simultaneously to grab the front collar of her tight, black, button-up sweater and the blue silk scarf securing her glorious red-haired pony tail.

What happened next was the complete undoing of Mrs. Nicole Yanika Silver for as her son tumbled to the ground it was revealed that the better part of her spectacular and luxurious auburn mane, now clutched in his hand, was naught but red extensions that had left in their wake Nicole's graying natural tresses. What was even worse for the formerly preening beauty was that as the buttons on her thin sweater, and the clasp of her rather matronly black bra, were torn open by her son's flailing fingers, two sizable silicon falsies fell to the floor and a pale white, industrial strength tummy cincher was unveiled. The woman who only moments before had been a self-assured beauty queen, justifiably reveling in the attention of men and sneering at the sisterhood of Annapolis' assembled women, had in the blink of an eye been revealed as a phony.

Tragically for the now slack-jawed ex-MILF, things only got worse because, while men and women alike howled with laughter, Nicole Silver suffered one final, cataclysmic indignity. Bending down to remove the sky high heel that had begun her rapid undoing, Nicole caused the row of metal clasps on the corset responsible for her "unnaturally" tiny waist to finally give up its ghost. As her blue eyes bulged at the shock of what she knew would follow, and to the chorus of ten quick pops, the rugged foundation garment fell to the floor revealing the soft white paunch that was Mrs. Silver's actual stomach.

"I guess she's not going to the gym so much after all," Rachel Miras joked loudly to a laughing Katherine Wray and anyone else who would listen.

Other women, ecstatic at the former beauty's downfall, joyfully joined in the chorus of insults.

"Not so sexy now, are you fatty," cried one.

"Nice panties," shouted another.

Revealed to have short, mousy, graying hair, smaller-than-advertised and very saggy breasts and a muffin top for a waist, not to mention an unseen bottom that got all its shape from a girdle, the undone Mrs. Silver, now in her stocking feet which made her look even more pear shaped, ran humiliated from the runway never to be seen in Annapolis or Davidson again.

In the meantime, elated by Nicole Silver's staggering fall, and grinning like the Cheshire Cat, the ever confident Danielle Parnell, preparing for a triumphant march down the runway and back, haughtily and loudly remarked, "well Rebecca, while there's no question that Nicole is the ‘loser’ here, it appears we also have a winner and -- not surprisingly -- it's me!"

The already aroused men in the crowd were transfixed by the arrogant dominatrix on stage. That she could watch another woman literally come apart at the seams and shamelessly revel in it threw gas on the fire of their collective lust for her. What's more, the imperious Mrs. Parnell sensed their common yearning and was keen to tease the men to their breaking point.

To that end, and in an effort to further assert her dominion over their hapless wives and girlfriends, the victorious Danielle Parnell dismissively remarked to the nearby Rachel and Katherine, "what’s the matter ladies? Did you think your fat friend's ridiculously inappropriate display could end any other way? Or you Miras, did you suppose you and your bulldog twin there would be standing here as the winners tonight . . . did you? How about you Katherine, will you be able to contain yourself later as you run the show of Silver's stripping over and over again in your head? I don't think so."

Disdainfully sneering at the women in the crowd, while knowing that her dominance of them made their male mates want her all the more, Mrs. Parnell and Charlie began their victory lap down the runway only to find their way impeded by the seated, catatonic form of the still shocked and sniveling Julian Silver. In a voice she thought only the boy could hear, Danielle taunted, "get out of my way you little loser. And thank your mom for confirming my suspicion that the two of you share your panties."

Stepping around the defeated Julian to continue what in her mind would be the last, best stroll of the evening, the arrogant Mrs. Parnell failed to notice the very flaw in the boardwalk that had ensnared Nicole Silver. What was also not yet apparent to the imperious alpha-lawyer was that in her earlier brief tangle with the escaping Louie, the fleeing poodle's lobster claw leash hook had briefly caught on and pulled a bit at the zipper at the back of Mrs. Parnell's dog-print mini skirt -- a zipper that was now just a few small teeth from opening completely.

In what quickly became a case study in the famous Santayana quote -- "those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" -- one of Danielle's 5" peep toe heels became trapped between two of the boardwalk's slats. But unlike Louie the poodle, who upon being jerked to a stop strained at the leash in an effort to continue moving forward, Charlie -- the 100 pound Parnell family dalmatian -- turned quickly around and, rearing up on his large spotted hind paws, planted his two front feet on Danielle's firm waist in an effort to give his stranded mistress a sloppy wet kiss.

It was only upon pushing the dog floor-ward with a stern, "down, Charlie, down . . ." that the magnificent Mrs. Parnell -- as well as everyone else in attendance -- discovered the fate of her mini-skirt's zipper. As the harshly disciplined Charlie's paws dropped from his owner's midsection to the ground, they brought with them Danielle's flouncy, flared, dalmatian spotted mini-skirt. As both the uniformed and civilian men in attendance "snapped to attention" at the sight of Mrs. Parnell's spectacularly fit ass covered only by her dalmatian themed micro-thong, the women in the crowd, particularly Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray doubled over with a mix of laughter and applause.

Danielle meanwhile was in shock as she screamed, "Will . . . don't look at mommy," while trying simultaneously to free her trapped shoe and grab her fallen skirt. But Charlie was having none of it and, startled by the mayhem around him as well as the unfamiliar "dalmatian" at his mistress' feet, dug into the latter with his powerful jaws and, knocking Danielle backward, ran at full tilt with her skirt down the runway.

"Charlie, come back," Maria Parnell could be heard shouting as she, Anna and Alia took off after their fleeing pet.

Unable to break her fall as a result of Charlie's attempted escape, the completely flustered Danielle Parnell careened ass first into the lap of young Julian Silver who was still sitting on the floor in the middle of the runway. Reacting instinctively to the woman about to land on him, Julian reached his hands out towards Mrs. Parnell's to help break her fall. Startled by the skinny fingers now grasping her tan, toned shoulders, and at last having freed her shoe from the wooden jaws that held it, Danielle attempted to jump back to her feet while chiding Julian to "get your hands off me you little pervert."

In what would be his third unintended wardrobe malfunction "assist" of the evening, the colossally awkward Julian Silver, thinking he could use the shoulder straps of Mrs. Parnell's tank top to assist her to her feet, held fast to those straps as she bounded up unassisted the result of which was to tear the black ribbed garment entirely from her sexy tanned back. As the startled sexpot regained her footing amidst the hollers, whistles, catcalls, applause and, especially from the women, howling laughter -- the full weight of her predicament hit her like a ton of bricks. How did this happen? Where are my clothes? Oh my God, Will can see me in my panties! And all these people -- these nobodies -- they can see my sexy, practically naked, body. No -- this can't be happening -- they're pointing and laughing.

And they most certainly were!

"I love the thong Cruella," taunted Rebecca Ross as she read the glittering message atop Danielle's tiny thong.

"Look at that ass," howled Katherine Wray -- more aroused on this night than she had been in her entire life.

The still stunned, mortified mother of three, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes the size of saucers, stared vacantly at the laughing crowd. But then, upon spying the "dorky" Julian Silver at her feet holding her torn shirt in his bony hands, Mrs. Parnell reared back with an open palm shouting, "you . . . little . . . spaz . . . this is all your fault . . ." But as she swung her arm at the cowering Julian's face -- Danielle's ensuing slap was suddenly and powerfully stopped by the vice-like grip that the short but sturdy Rachel Miras placed on her wrist.

"You leave that boy alone you little tease," raged the determined Mrs. Miras. "It's time that someone taught you a lesson. The only one who's going to get a spanking tonight is you!"

As the entire crowd went wild, its women cheering Rachel on as if she was a conquering heroine, the increasingly humiliated queen bee -- Danielle Marie Parnell -- tried one last time to regain control. Somewhat frantically, but with as much authority as her current situation would permit, Mrs. Parnell commanded, "let go of me this instant you fat cow. Just who do you think you are!?!"

"I'm the girl whose finally going to give you what you deserve you show-off," responded Rachel Miras without missing a beat and, as Katherine Wray handed her a white wooden folding chair from beside the runway, the stocky Mrs. Miras, after unclasping the shocked prima donna's dog-print bra from her spectacularly pert tits, pulled a startled Danielle Parnell across her lap and began paddling the sexy mom's posterior.

"That's for taking my parking spot this morning," cried out the now dominant Mrs. Miras as she spanked Danielle's taught bottom.

"And that's for making fun of Katherine," continued Rachel, bringing the pain to Mrs. Parnell as the appreciative and nearly orgasmic Katherine Wray shouted in her dulcet Southern tones, "you go girl -- give it to her good!"

"And that's for telling me I look like my dog. In fact, looking at your sl*tty little outfit tonight it seems you're the one who looks like a dog. Why don't you bark for me doggy," taunted Rachel Miras as she continued to redden the uber-MILF's behind.

"Please . . . no . . . not that," whispered Danielle feebly, thinking back to how she had teased her own sexy reflection with that very command only a few short hours earlier.

"I said BARK . . . LIKE . . . A . . . DOG," bellowed Rachel Miras punctuating each word of her command with an ever more forceful slap.

What happened next was, for many women in attendance that night, a high water mark of vindication for the abuses that Mrs. Danielle Parnell had heaped upon them over the years.

"Woof," chirped the humiliated Danielle softly from the lap of Rachel Miras as the broken alpha lawyer's eyes locked with those of her son Will right before the boy passed out.

Buoyed by her success thus far, the stout Mrs. Miras continued "bad dog -- I can't hear you!!"

"I'm sorry Mistress," croaked Danielle sheepishly, "WOOF, WOOF, WOOF, WOOF." And then, as if freed by her humiliation Danielle loudly confessed, "I am a bad dog, a very, very bad dog . . . a very bad girl dog . . ."

"And what do we call a girl dog, Danni? Tell me . . . what are you," teased Rachel Miras while softly "petting" Danielle on her head.

Completely broken at this point and having slid from Rachel's lap onto the runway where, on all fours wearing only her 5" black and white spotted heels and her now soaking wet dog-print Cruella thong, Mrs. Danielle Parnell conceded what everyone already knew.

"I'm a b*tch."

And as money flew at the stage in support of PAWS for the Cause, Rebecca Ross d****d the winner's sash over the neck of the astonished, broken, former tease. It read simply, "Best in Show."

[amfanon]

I know that there are plenty who like stories about false looks, but I'm more of a fan of the real thing. I would have liked to see two stripped beauties, rather than one and a fake.

That aside, the Parnell portion was masterful, as always.

[Chasmo]

Thanks amf85 -- I genuinely appreciate the feedback and your kind words.

It's funny, I set out to write a two stripped beauties story because I too prefer that to the fraud revelation angle. That said, I ran into somewhat of a hard spot in my head about how to distinguish Nicole's undoing from that suffered by Danielle. I may try this week to put a new version out there that finds Nicole left naked but spectacular. Thanks again.

[ragnarok411]

I'm actually one of those folks who likes both angles. I haven't read anything ENF-related with the fraud exposed angle in awhile so it was kind of refreshing actually but you nailed it just the right spots to take the preening beauty down a peg or two (or several). The fake hair exposed, breasts exposed, girdle holding in what really is a spare tire. I've even seen some stories incorporate some additional elements like fake nails and fake eyelashes falling off after being doused with water, etc. I think besides the girdle erupting my favorite angle to that is probably the large breasts held up at a regal height being exposed to not really be upright at all, but a saggy, nipples pointing downward exposed lost glory from youth that no longer applies to a woman in her 40's.

[amfanon]

Originally Posted by Chasmo

Thanks amf85 -- I genuinely appreciate the feedback and your kind words.

It's funny, I set out to write a two stripped beauties story because I too prefer that to the fraud revelation angle. That said, I ran into somewhat of a hard spot in my head about how to distinguish Nicole's undoing from that suffered by Danielle. I may try this week to put a new version out there that finds Nicole left naked but spectacular. Thanks again.

Looking forward to it.

[hocman]

I to am not a big fan of the fake beauty, just prefer the real thing and I think Nicole is perfect for that. That being said the Danielle part was one of the best yet. Look forward as always to your rewrite or next new one. How you are able to do such great stories in such a short period of time is amazing.

[Chasmo]

First -- thanks again to everyone for your kind and constructive comments on these stories. It's what keeps me writing. Below, based on my original intent as well as the thoughtful ideas of amf85 and hocman, is a (very) slightly revised version of PAWS for the Cause wherein Mrs. Silver gets most certainly stripped but only to reveal a magnificent body. Was hoping to have another story up this weekend but it's looking less and less likely -- sorry about that. Will try to have one done in early December (the real Mrs. Parnell has been making it easy lately to come up with new ideas). In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

Had Norman Rockwell set out to paint a particular American town, it would have been Davidson, Maryland. Nestled along the South River, the leafy village evoked a simpler time. Davidson's homes, a mix of large but unimposing white clapboard and brick manses, often set back from its quiet tree lined streets by expansive well-manicured lawns, evidenced a quiet, kind and confident prosperity. Although its residents found themselves almost equidistant between Baltimore and Washington, D.C. -- each a mere 20 or so miles away and where many of Davidson's townsfolk worked -- the bucolic bedroom community was a mere five minute drive from Maryland's harbor front capital of Annapolis, and it was there that many of the good people of Davidson would while away their spring and summer hours. In fact, the spectacular environs of downtown Annapolis, home to the United States Naval Academy and -- long ago for a very short time -- the capital of the United States, hosted many a charitable event that relied on its coffers being filled by Davidson's affluent residents.

One of the most renowned of these, which drew participants and spectators alike from all around the Annapolis area, was Davidson's annual "PAWS for the Cause" held each year in early June. The daylong event, which raised money for local animal welfare, consisted of a host of activities including a pet washing station, doggy obstacle course, adoption fair, silent auction and -- at day's end -- a fashion parade where dog owners of all stripes and their pets would walk the "runway" together for the entertainment of the assembled throng. Like Davidson itself, and as Rockwell would have painted it, PAWS for the Cause was all-American fun -- neither showy nor brash.

The same could not be said for one of Davidson's most prominent, and arguably most attractive, residents -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell. Easing her very showy white 2014 Range Rover Sport into an available spot in downtown Annapolis -- brashly pulling in despite another driver -- Rachel Miras -- waiting patiently for the space to open -- the fetching alpha-mom prepared to drop off her three kids, their dalmatian Charlie and the Parnell family nanny, Alia, for the morning kick-off of this year's PAWS for the Cause. Stepping out into the June air, the spectacularly fit 43 year old stunner caught the attention of every man around. As the sun glinted off the front of her mirrored aviator shades, those lucky enough to spy her were treated to the sight of her well-tanned and toned legs standing atop a pair of 4.5", yellow, peep-toe, wedge heels; her flawless ass hugged by a pair of white jean shorts that came down barely to mid-thigh -- appropriate but spectacular. A long yellow, black and white flowered scarf ran beneath the belt loops of her shorts and, up top, the fashionable Mrs. Parnell wore a very form fitting black cotton tank that emphasized nicely the swell of her ample 34C breasts as well as her tight midsection and fit arms. Danielle's shoulder length brown hair, that framed her beautiful, emerald-eyed face, blew gently in the warm summer breeze.

"Stay out of trouble you three -- and keep any eye on Charlie," the gorgeous mom directed her offspring, "and nothing inappropriate -- do you hear me."

"Yes mom," the three Parnell kids -- Will, 13, Anna 11 and Maria 9 -- echoed in chorus, "nothing inappropriate."

"Mind those attitudes," replied their mother not even half kidding, "or you'll find yourselves back home in no time." And then, to Alia, Danielle continued, "keep an eye on them will you, I'll be back later for the fashion parade -- this town won't know what hit them when they see what I've got planned."

"Of course, Mrs. Parnell," said Alia sweetly while thinking to herself that her boss certainly had no lack of ego.

As the ceaselessly sexy lawyer sashayed to the local Starbucks to grab her trademark cappuccino for the short ride home, the fantastic motion of her pert bottom became the instant focus of soccer dads, weekend warriors and mailmen alike -- and Danielle Parnell loved it. To her, the thrill of teasing men was matched by very few things. Among them was the joy she felt when, upon "catching" an unsuspecting man spying her beauty, she publicly and loudly took him to task with a, "what would your wife think of the way you're looking at me Mr. Smith," or a "how dare you, Mr. Jones." The delight the haughty uber-MILF got from actually calling out men, however, was dwarfed by the elation she derived from the impact their emasculation had on the chastened men's wives and girlfriends because, at the top of Danielle Parnell's list of favorite things, was the love she had for herself. In her mind, other women existed merely to confirm her own superiority -- in her presence the universe of dowdy soccer moms, overweight Zumba class attendees and stay-at-home haus fraus simply ceased to exist -- and they knew it -- losers.

Smiling as she thought about the lustful looks directed at her, Danielle pulled open the door to the world's most popular coffee establishment and, walking in, spied a collection of the very women she despised. Sitting at a small table sipping on their caffeine laden libations were Katherine Wray, Rachel Miras and Nicole Silver. As she raised her expensive sunglasses from the slope of her perfect nose to the top of her windblown hair, Mrs. Parnell flashed her best fake smile at her three "lesser" neighbors.

"Why good morning Danielle," enthused the waifish Katherine Wray, "are you excited for the big day?"

The 5' 8" strawberry-blonde Mrs. Wray, an avid runner and Nashville native, whose own legs were nothing to sneeze at, offended Danielle least of the three women. In fact, the ever-confident Mrs. Parnell suspected the athletic Mrs. Wray's marriage was a mere beard and that the closeted bi-sexual Katherine harbored a secret crush on her.

"Not as excited as you are to see me I'm sure," Danielle offered condescendingly. As the equally titillated and humiliated Mrs. Wray blushed, the self-confident Mrs. Parnell silently added to herself with a smile, "and you can look all you want dear, but I don't swing that way and if I did you'd never make the cut."

With the prospect of lording over these "nobodies" coursing through her icy veins, the preening diva turned to Rachel Miras, "will you be accompanying that bull dog of yours again in the fashion show Rachel? It's just adorable how much you favor one other -- like mother and son."

The short, squat Mrs. Miras who was working harder than ever to lose some weight, seethed inwardly at the sharp barb but -- intimidated to her core by Danielle -- outwardly simply smiled stupidly. Mrs. Parnell on the other hand reveled in the cowed woman's discomfort delighting in the fact that within 10 minutes not only had she taken Rachel's parking spot but left her looking the fool.

Finally, as the handsome young male barista handed the haughty lawyer her cappuccino -- "on the house" -- Mrs. Parnell set her sights on the red-headed Nicole Silver who, like Danielle, was a lawyer in Washington, D.C.

"Will your son and that troublesome mutt of yours be performing for us again this year Nicole," Danielle provoked Mrs. Silver, referring to an unfortunate incident the year before when Louie -- the Silver family's 100 pound standard poodle -- caught wind of a squirrel as Nicole's young son Julian was walking him down the doggy fashion show runway. The poor boy, who though eighteen years old at the time still looked all of about twelve, was dragged off his feet, through a puddle of mud and out of his khaki shorts before he finally gave up the ghost and let go of the leash. Danielle of course, who had a front row seat to the unfortunate episode, was delighted by the "little nerd's" undoing and in a voice she thought to be sotto voce was overheard by those around her to comment to no one in particular "nice 'manties' he's wearing -- do you think he shares those with his mom?"

Both enraged and mortified by the mention of poor Jules' former misfortune, and with her voice controlled but strained, the 5'8", big-boned but by no means fat, Norwegian beauty responded, "actually Danielle, I'll be escorting Louie in tonight's charity fashion parade."

"What a relief," Danielle falsely empathized, "with someone your size on the leash any further secrets of your family's underpants -- thank God -- will likely remain unknown."

Nicole was rendered speechless and Danielle loved it. Somehow putting the Silver woman in her place provided Mrs. Parnell her greatest rush. Who does that Silver think she is anyway, she laughed to herself. The half-wit probably got her law degree through the mail . . . and the way she's always flaunting that chest of hers -- classless. A woman like that simply needs to be told who's boss -- smiled the glamorous alpha mom -- and now she knows -- it's me.

Feeling on top of the world, the sexy Mrs. Danielle Parnell pushed open the coffee house door and, as every male neck snapped to watch, strutted to her car with a broad smile on her beautiful face and a little extra sway in her shapely hips.

"Can you believe that woman," raged Nicole Silver at her coffee mates. "She strolls in here with her high heels and tight little shorts and proceeds to make fools of us while we do nothing about it. Why what I wouldn't give to take that little tease down a peg or two."

"You," countered the equally angry Rachel Miras, "she stole my parking spot . . . and told me I look like my dog. I don't . . . do I?"

"Of course you don't you ninny," scolded the still apoplectic Mrs. Silver. "Don't you see, that's what she wants . . . to undermine our confidence. She casually puts us down . . . you look like your dog . . . I'm too fat and my poor son is a panty-waisted nerd . . . Katherine over there is a lesbian . . . and then while we sit here -- stunned and humiliated -- she smiles, flips her hair and struts away."

"She's the one who needs to have that giant ego of hers undermined -- to be humiliated," continued Nicole.

Trying to break the tension, and lustfully imagining Mrs. Parnell's undoing, the aroused Mrs. Wray offered with a big smile, "boy would I like to see that . . . mmmm."

"Me too," laughed Mrs. Miras also picturing in her head a scenario where the ordinarily unflappable Mrs. Parnell was the one on the receiving end for once, "but let's just forget about it and enjoy the day."

"Forget about it," Nicole Silver practically shouted, "what do you mean forget about it? We have to do something . . ."

"Let it go Nicole," advised Katherine Wray in her soft Southern accent, "it's really nothing."

"Fine, if the two of you want to be losers -- have at it" blustered Nicole, "I'm taking a stand. Two can play at her game you know."

And then, getting up hastily to abandon her two friends, and without taking a moment to measure her words, Mrs. Nicole Silver arrogantly proclaimed, "once the men of this town catch a glimpse of me on the runway tonight they won't have a second thought for Little Miss Perfect."

As the statuesque redhead stormed off, the Starbucks door slamming behind her, Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray burst into laughter.

"She's almost as bad as the other one," Rachel joked.

"No kidding," added Katherine Wray smiling, "the two of them deserve each other."

Still giddy from the serving of humble pie she had heaped upon her pathetic neighbors earlier in the day, and having since then worked-out at her very exclusive gym to hone her spectacular body and stopped by an equally upscale spa for a massage, manicure, pedicure and haircut, the sultry Mrs. Parnell eased her high-end SUV down the long driveway to the Parnell family home to begin getting ready for the PAWS for the Cause fashion parade.

Although Danielle had promised her youngest daughter, the 9 year old Maria, that she could walk the runway tonight with the family dalmatian Charlie -- Mrs. Parnell still planned on looking her best.

"After all," she laughed to herself, "I owe the men of Davidson something hot to fantasize about when they make love to their hum drum wives."

"Of course," she smiled inwardly, looking at her nude reflection upon stepping from the tub in her exclusive marble bathroom, "that fantasy is the closest any of those losers will ever get to actually seeing this body."

Once the stunning solicitor had toweled off, slipped on her short silk robe and expertly made up her beautiful face -- taking care to apply a fire engine red gloss to her luscious lips -- she began to dress for the event. Although she and her three children would all be wearing some version of white outfits with black spots to show family unity for their over-sized dalmatian's big night -- Danielle had planned something special to wear beneath her otherwise innocent frock. Opening the small brown box on her dressing table -- that had arrived from a novelty lingerie shop only the day before -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell pulled out the tiniest of thongs. The translucent white lace triangle of fabric in front -- bedecked with black dalmatian spots -- was joined to the tiniest of similarly styled lace triangles behind by a bright red spaghetti thin waistband. But the coup de grace of the sexy panty was the word embroidered in silver glitter across its tiny front panel -- Cruella. As the suburban sexpot pulled the micro garment on over her perfect hips she chuckled to herself, "one look at this body and old Walt would melt right out of cryonic suspension."

After fastening the matching dalmatian push-up bra over her ample 34C breasts, Mrs. Parnell stepped into a pair of patent leather 5" peep-toe pumps each with a high black heel in support of a white shoe with black spots. Looking into the mirror the uber-MILF put her hands on her hips, turned to the side and, bending at the knees, pushed her fabulous ass out behind her. Lustfully admiring her fantastic reflection, and in her sexiest voice, the hot little lawyer pouted, "bark like a dog baby!!! Who's a bad girl? Who's a bad girl!! I am -- that's who."

Blowing a kiss to herself as she stood up, the devilish diva pulled on a white mini-skirt, bedecked with black dalmatian spots, that flared out from her incredibly toned waist and came down to just below mid-thigh. On top, the gorgeous attorney wore a tight black cotton ribbed tank top that showed off her incredibly fit arms as well as her firm, pert breasts. The black and white pearl choker she wore around her supple neck complemented the bracelets she wore on each wrist. To finish the look, Mrs. Parnell tied back her luxurious brown mane with a dalmatian spotted white silk scarf. Grabbing her oversize white leather Versace tote as she headed for the door, Danielle caught her reflection in the large hallway mirror in the Parnell foyer. Satisfied as always with her beauty and sex appeal, and reveling in the impact she'd soon have on the feckless men of Davidson -- and their loser wives -- the stunning alpha mom cooed lustfully at her reflection, "you're the hottest b*tch in town, baby."

And with that, Mrs. Parnell strutted out her front door for the short drive into Annapolis.

While her boss was primping at home, Alia, the Parnell family nanny, was busy making sure Will, Anna and Maria got changed into their dalmatian themed outfits and that Charlie got himself a good cleaning at the pet washing station. The 22 year old Ph.D. candidate, who had been watching the Parnell children now for almost four years, genuinely loved her three charges. The future professor was also quite fond of her high-powered boss -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell, Esquire -- who she knew cared for her kids if in her own unique way.

That said, on days like these, where their forceful mom pushed her offspring to dress in matching outfits, Alia certainly sympathized with their resistance and, having agreeably donned her own dalmatian themed ensemble to watch Charlie and Maria walk in the upcoming fashion parade, shared their embarrassment. All in all though, it was a small price to pay for an otherwise great job and, as Will, Anna and Maria emerged from the public restrooms nearest the PAWS for the Cause runway, the three of them and Alia, with Charlie in tow, waived at the family SUV pulling up nearby.

As the glamorous Mrs. Parnell stepped from the Range Rover's driver side door to greet her waiting family, every man within view craned his neck to take notice. Outfitted in her 5" polka dotted heels, flared white mini skirt with black spots that mimicked her nearby dalmatian and tight black tank-top, the suburban goddess was a fantasy-come-alive -- and she knew it. Turning around to see her kids and Alia, the gorgeous Danielle coolly but dismissively eyed her admirers deeming them completely unworthy of the object of their desire -- namely, herself -- but at the same time relishing the attention she knew they couldn't resist giving her -- the losers. With that, the now united Parnell clan, along with Charlie and Alia, headed for their seats.

In order to host the PAWS for the Cause fashion parade, the boardwalk that ran in from the foot of Annapolis harbor to the nearby, tree-lined parking lot had been transformed into a makeshift runway. A large white tent, complete with a curtain from where the evening's "models" would make their entrance covered the intersection between the boardwalk and the brick lined sidewalk that ran along the water's edge. On either side of the runway, perched upon the large green grass field that otherwise separated the parking lot from the water, were hundreds of white wooden folding chairs from where the families, friends, casual observers and donors of the annual pet parade would take in the evening's show.

As she led her small brood to their reserved seats along the boardwalk's edge, Mrs. Danielle Parnell, with a little extra sway in her hips, drank in the stares of the good men of Annapolis and Davidson, each of whom -- to her delight if not her surprise -- couldn't fail to notice the diminutive beauty's raw sex appeal. What's more, Danielle reveled in the consternation that the men's wives and girlfriends, on the one hand, directed at said men for ignoring them and on the other, focused on Danielle -- and her regal, incomparable beauty -- for stealing their men's attention.

"Let's face it ladies," she thought to herself in complete satisfaction, "they all want me . . . and you all want to be me."

Once the contented diva and her kids reached their seats, Danielle dispatched Alia to accompany Maria and what seemed a particularly excitable Charlie backstage for the show.

Meanwhile, from behind the curtained tent, Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray spotted the narcissistic Mrs. Parnell taking her seat for the show.

"Well it looks like ‘Miss Look at Me' has finally arrived," quipped Rachel, still smarting from being compared to her bulldog Max.

"It's hard to believe she’s going to let her daughter walk with their dog. I mean seriously, would you look at the outfit that woman is in," the annoyed Mrs. Miras continued, "those heels are half as tall as she is. And that dalmatian mini-skirt -- she sure makes a convincing Cruella De Vil." Little did Mrs. Miras know how right she was -- and how soon her hunch would be confirmed.

"She really is sexy though," Mrs. Wray uttered with bated breath just out of the earshot of her friend.

"What did you say," queried Rachel.

"Ah . . . nothing . . . have you seen Nicole," answered Katherine, suppressing her desire for Mrs. Parnell but also genuinely curious, after Mrs. Silver's earlier temper tantrum, whether the stunning redhead would even make an appearance.

"I haven't, said Rachel glancing down at her watch, "and you should head out there and get a seat."

As Katherine walked out to the audience Rachel shouted, "wish us luck," while patting her bulldog Max on the head."

"Good luck," Katherine said with a smile, "see you on the other side."

With that, the annual PAWS for the Cause doggy fashion parade began. As had become a ritual, and in no small part due to the U.S. Naval Academy being located in downtown Annapolis, the show kicked off with a rousing rendition of the Star Spangled Banner sung by the academy choir. As the midshipmen, mostly young strong men, serenaded the crowd with the National Anthem, Mrs. Danielle Parnell took the moment to stand a bit taller and push out her ample chest a bit farther in order to make clear to those muscular boys what they had pledged to defend. Knowing her private "salute to the troops" did not go unnoticed fed the preening prima donna's ego even further.

Once the flag had been honored, the event's hostess, Rebecca Ross, began to introduce the parade's participants. Duo after duo of man -- or woman -- and beast walked the runway to the polite applause of the crowd. Adam Hess, Rebecca Ross' husband, and his great dane Ranger, Rachel Miras and Max, the admittedly adorable Maria Parnell and Charlie and a host of other pups and their human companions helped raise awareness for a great cause while at the same time not taking themselves too seriously.

Finally, Mrs. Ross announced that the next pair would the final one of the evening. Thereafter, she explained, she and three lucky kids from Davidson Elementary School -- the "judges" -- would pick their two favorite dogs of the evening and those lucky canines, and their owners, would take one last walk down the runway before a winner was selected.

"So," announced the buxom, blonde Rebecca Ross, who in Danielle's estimation undeservedly ended up with a particularly handsome husband, "without further ado, I present to you the final pair of the night, Mrs. Nicole Silver and her standard poodle Louie."

What began as polite if not somewhat tired applause before the tent's curtain was pulled back quickly escalated into a crescendo of cheers -- particularly from the men in the audience, including the clearly enthusiastic singing Middies who had remained to watch the show. What prompted the excitement, as Louie led the way, was the mouthwatering sight of Mrs. Nicole Silver.

The stunning 5'8" redhead walked behind her well-heeled pooch in a pair of 5.5" blue silk platform heels. The towering shoes in turn supported a gorgeous pair of powerful calves and thighs covered in black fishnet hose but sadly visible only until they met her blue silk "poodle" skirt right a few inches above her knee. The fabulously retro skirt was complemented on top by a very tight, very low cut, black, short sleeved-sweater, buttoned in front, that highlighted the scarlet maned Mrs. Silver's 36D breasts. Around her waist was a black leather belt with a large gold buckle and her flowing red locks had been tied into a pony tail by a teal blue scarf that matched her skirt and shoes. The Nordic goddess beamed as she followed her dog along the makeshift runway and, as if to prove that there was a new sheriff in town, gazed disdainfully down at one Danielle Parnell who, to Nicole's delight, looked equally stupefied and infuriated.

"You go mom," yelled Jules Silver from the seat immediately behind that occupied by Danielle.

"Be quiet you little dork," snapped Danielle at the now terrified 18 year old who remembered how Mrs. Parnell had added to his mortification a year ago with her "manties" comment.

"Mom," Anna Parnell quipped, "cut it out, you're embarrassing us."

"You be quiet too, Missy," she reprimanded her daughter.

And then, noticing that her 13 year old son, who was in the throes of puberty, couldn't peel his eyes from the swaying hips of Mrs. Silver, grabbed him forcefully by the arm.

"Just what do you think you're looking at young man," she chided her now humiliated boy.

"Sorry mom," croaked Will.

But it wasn't just her son that was mesmerized. As the redheaded "glamazon" turned to make her way back to the tent from where she first emerged, Danielle realized that every man there was captivated by Mrs. Silver. Of course, any ordinary woman would have simply let it pass -- would have let someone else bask in the limelight for once. But Mrs. Danielle Parnell was no ordinary woman. In fact, in her mind, she was quite extra-ordinary and was not one to be outdone. She needed to reassert her dominance -- but how?

Before the answer to that question presented itself, Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray -- who stood together to the side of the runway -- reacted to the vision that was Nicole Silver.

"I guess Nicole wasn't kidding," exclaimed Katherine, aroused more than a bit by the gorgeous redhead, "every man here seems to have their eyes on her."

"I know. And look at Mrs. Parnell over there. She is clearly out of sorts . . . this is really getting under her skin," Rachel happily chimed in. "But do you notice anything funny about Nicole's ‘look’ tonight. I know she's always talking about the gym but I never realized before quite how small her waist had become. And while there's no denying she has a great rack . . . well, it never seemed quite this great."

"Whose jealous now," Katherine joked.

"Maybe you're right," conceded Mrs. Miras, but inside she was unconvinced that Mrs. Nicole Silver was everything she appeared to be.

As the two Davidson ladies gossiped, Rebecca Ross once again stepped up to the microphone to announce the evening's finalists.

"After serious consideration," Mrs. Ross began "and with a hearty thanks to everyone -- man, woman, boy, girl and dog alike -- who participated in tonight's show, the judges and I have come to a decision."

As one of the pint-sized judges handed her a big red envelope, Rebecca Ross excitedly announced "and the two finalists are -- Maria Parnell and her dalmatian Charlie . . ."

With the crowd clapping enthusiastically, 9 year old Maria threw up her hands in triumph and gave Charlie a big hug. For her this was nothing but fun and, win or lose, she was happy to walk her dog down the runway one more time.

As the cheers for the happy young girl subsided, Mrs. Ross continued, "and . . . Mrs. Nicole Silver and Louie the poodle."

The mere prospect of seeing Mrs. Silver strut her stuff again caused the assembled men in attendance to go crazy, drowning out what had been no small amount of cheering for Maria. And while the youngest Parnell neither noticed nor cared about the relative volume of the crowd, her mother -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell -- already piqued at what she saw as the usurpation by the shameless Silver woman of her rightful role as Queen Bee, was presented with an answer to her earlier question of what to do about it. Storming from her white wooden chair, the ordinarily unflappable Mrs. Parnell headed purposefully for the tent where Maria and Charlie were preparing to take one more stroll down the runway.

"Maria," she said dispassionately, "mommy is going to walk Charlie down the runway this time."

"But mom . . . Charlie and I won . . . they already announced it," pleaded Maria. "It's not fair."

"Sometimes life isn't fair Maria. Now stop being a baby and go sit down with your sister and brother before you embarrass yourself any further," snipped her unsympathetic mother. "Alia, take her back to the seats."

Knowing it was no use arguing, the youngest Parnell child gave Charlie a hug and headed out with Alia saying, "someday mom will get embarrassed too and then she'll know how it feels." From the mouths of babes . . . that day was now at hand.

Having witnessed the scene just described, Nicole Silver was in heaven. Not only had she stolen all male attention from that little Parnell tease but she had clearly undermined Danielle’s self-confidence as well. All that remained was to best her in the eyes of the evening's gathered men in a head-to-head walk off down the runway. If only Nicole had remembered that hubris killed the Athenians.

"Our first finalist tonight, walking with her poodle Louie, is Mrs. Nicole Silver," began Rebecca Ross, "let's hear it for Louie and Nicole."

Supremely confident, the stylish Mrs. Silver walked from behind the tent's curtain out onto the runway as the crowd -- especially its male members -- exploded into applause. With her head held high, Nicole flashed her perfect smile, purposefully catching the eye of many a man looking her way. In her towering heels she swayed her hips to an almost obscene degree drinking in the adulation that she knew followed her tight bottom as she walked.

As Louie and Nicole reached the end of the runway to begin their return, Mrs. Ross - who had not seen Danielle take her daughter's place -- announced the second finalist.

"Last but by no means least, walking with her family dalmatian Charlie, please give a big hand to little Maria Parnell."

Expecting to see the beaming face of nine year old Maria follow the big dalmatian from behind the curtain, the crowd was at first taken aback by the sight of her incredibly sexy mother. But, at least for the good men of Annapolis, any momentary disappointment was immediately replaced with delight. Strutting down the runway in her 5" patent leather, black and white spotted, peekaboo heels, her mid-thigh, flared, dalmatian patterned mini-skirt and her skin-tight, ribbed, black cotton tank top, Mrs. Danielle Parnell quickly reasserted herself as the "top dog" at the show -- and she knew it. With a little extra sway in her own fabulous walk, the imperious mother of three prowled the catwalk like a pro.

Nicole Silver's blood boiled as she realized that the diminutive sex-kitten had stolen her thunder yet again. Unfortunately for Mrs. Silver though, the lapse in concentration brought about by that realization caused her to miss a rather large space between two slats on the wooden boardwalk within which one of her dizzyingly high heels unceremoniously became trapped. To the joy of most of the women in the crowd -- who didn't know which of the runway's two travelers they liked less -- the once confident redhead quickly began to lose her composure as she tried without success to bring Louie to heel while freeing her trapped shoe.

Mindful of the humiliation he suffered last year when Louie became distracted on his watch, 18 year old Julian Silver leaped quickly to his mother's aid. Bounding past Alia and the three Parnell kids sitting in front of him, the aspiring gallant called out, "don't worry mom, I'll save you."

Unfortunately for the painfully awkward teen, his attempted leap onto the boardwalk was merely the first act in an ensuing comedy of errors. Tripping over the taught leash that separated his mom from the increasingly agitated Louie, young Jules began to fall. Instinctively and desperately grabbing for something to break his descent, and to the impending mortification of his mother, he sn*tched the waist of Nicole's poodle skirt which was torn clear off the sexy redhead's body.

"Oh my God . . . my skirt . . . and my panties," screamed the once supremely confident Mrs. Silver who was suddenly revealed from the waist down in a lacy electric blue thong -- the color of which matched her shoes and scarf – her very high heels and a pair of black fishnet thigh high stockings. What’s more, emblazoned in black block letters across the front of her translucent fabric panties were the words “Top Dog.”

As the crowd burst into hysterics – its men instantly aroused by the view of the porcelain goddess’ muscular legs and ass and its women jubilant at her undoing -- Julian Silver, in an effort to regain his footing, found himself tangled again in Louie's leash which his mortified mother had released from the hand she was now futilely using to shield her almost completely uncovered bottom. As the startled poodle attempted to bound away, momentarily but solidly colliding with Charlie and the hysterically laughing Mrs. Parnell, the disoriented teen's feet were swept from beneath him and, tumbling headlong into his now dazed mom, the hapless Julian managed simultaneously to grab with both hands the front collar of her tight, black, button-up sweater.

What happened next was the complete undoing of Mrs. Nicole Yanika Silver for as her son tumbled to the ground the buttons on her thin sweater, and the clasp of her lacy electric blue and black bra, were torn open by his flailing fingers, giving at first only a glimpse of the treasures beneath. Unfortunately for Nicole, and despite Julian’s futile hope that holding fast to his mother’s frock would help the boy break his inevitable fall, the still tumbling teen managed to strip both sweater and bra clean off Mrs. Silver’s broad sexy shoulders.

The woman who only moments before had been a self-assured beauty queen, justifiably reveling in the attention of men and sneering at the sisterhood of Annapolis' assembled women, now stood before the crowd with a dazed and daffy look on her once smug face wearing only her 5.5” bright teal heels, a similarly hued “Top Dog” thong, and a silk scarf tied into her long red hair. The fabulous pink nipples atop her huge but pert breasts stood completely at attention as did the manhood of every guy who saw them. Mrs. Silver was frozen.

Tragically for the now slack-jawed ex-MILF, things only got worse because, while men and women alike howled with laughter, awakening her from her trance, Nicole Silver suffered one final, cataclysmic indignity. Bending down to remove the sky high heel that had begun her rapid undoing, Nicole failed to realize how close she was to the runway’s edge and – upon finally freeing the stuck shoe – she inadvertently stepped not onto to solid ground but rather off the make-shift catwalk into thin air.

On the plus side, had her fall not been arrested she could genuinely have been injured. That said, what stopped the practically naked Nicole from plummeting quickly to the lawn below was Julian’s last attempt to save her honor – the grasp of his hand on the back of her itsy bitsy thong. As the fragile fabric stretched and her gorgeous blue eyes bulged at the shock of what she knew would follow, Julian effectively lowered – via a painful snuggy – his undone mother from the runway to the ground below. To the delight of everyone but Mrs. Silver, just as Nicole reached the ground her mangled underwear reached their breaking point and Julian’s tight hold unceremoniously separated the tiny garment from her magnificent bottom leaving her nude from shoes to scarf.

"Not so smug any more is she," Rachel Miras joked loudly to a laughing Katherine Wray and anyone else who would listen.

Other women, ecstatic at the former beauty's downfall, joyfully joined in the chorus of insults.

"Who do you think is the bottom dog," cried one.

"I guess the curtains do match the d****s," shouted another pointing at the small shaved heart shape of pubic hair above the beautiful redhead’s sex.

“Like mother, like son,” guffawed the delighted Mrs. Wray as her now not-so-arrogant friend ran buck naked, save for a sexy pair of high heels, for the parking lot. Katherine took extra delight knowing that the scene she had just witnessed would fuel her fantasies for months to come.

In the meantime, elated by Nicole Silver's staggering fall, and grinning like the Cheshire Cat, the ever confident Danielle Parnell, preparing for a triumphant march down the runway and back, haughtily and loudly remarked, "well Rebecca, while there's no question that Nicole is the ‘loser’ here, it appears we also have a winner and -- not surprisingly -- it's me!"

The already aroused men in the crowd were transfixed by the arrogant dominatrix on stage. That she could watch another woman literally come apart at the seams and shamelessly revel in it threw gas on the fire of their collective lust for her. What's more, the imperious Mrs. Parnell sensed their common yearning and was keen to tease the men to their breaking point.

To that end, and in an effort to further assert her dominion over their hapless wives and girlfriends, the victorious Danielle Parnell dismissively remarked to the nearby Rachel and Katherine, "what’s the matter ladies? Did you think your fat friend's ridiculously inappropriate display could end any other way? Or you Miras, did you suppose you and your bulldog twin there would be standing here as the winners tonight . . . did you? How about you Katherine, will you be able to contain yourself later as you run the show of Silver's stripping over and over again in your head? I don't think so."

Disdainfully sneering at the women in the crowd, while knowing that her dominance of them made their male mates want her all the more, Mrs. Parnell and Charlie began their victory lap down the runway only to find their way impeded by the seated, catatonic form of the still shocked and sniveling Julian Silver. In a voice she thought only the boy could hear, Danielle taunted, "get out of my way you little loser. And thank your mom for confirming my suspicion that the two of you share your panties."

Stepping around the defeated Julian to continue what in her mind would be the last, best stroll of the evening, the arrogant Mrs. Parnell failed to notice the very flaw in the boardwalk that had ensnared Nicole Silver. What was also not yet apparent to the imperious alpha-lawyer was that in her earlier brief tangle with the escaping Louie, the fleeing poodle's lobster claw leash hook had briefly caught on and pulled a bit at the zipper at the back of Mrs. Parnell's dog-print mini skirt -- a zipper that was now just a few small teeth from opening completely.

In what quickly became a case study in the famous Santayana quote -- "those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" -- one of Danielle's 5" peep toe heels became trapped between two of the boardwalk's slats. But unlike Louie the poodle, who upon being jerked to a stop strained at the leash in an effort to continue moving forward, Charlie -- the 100 pound Parnell family dalmatian -- turned quickly around and, rearing up on his large spotted hind paws, planted his two front feet on Danielle's firm waist in an effort to give his stranded mistress a sloppy wet kiss.

It was only upon pushing the dog floor-ward with a stern, "down, Charlie, down . . ." that the magnificent Mrs. Parnell -- as well as everyone else in attendance -- discovered the fate of her mini-skirt's zipper. As the harshly disciplined Charlie's paws dropped from his owner's midsection to the ground, they brought with them Danielle's flouncy, flared, dalmatian spotted mini-skirt. As both the uniformed and civilian men in attendance "snapped to attention" at the sight of Mrs. Parnell's spectacularly fit ass covered only by her dalmatian themed micro-thong, the women in the crowd, particularly Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray doubled over with a mix of laughter and applause.

Danielle meanwhile was in shock as she screamed, "Will . . . don't look at mommy," while trying simultaneously to free her trapped shoe and grab her fallen skirt. But Charlie was having none of it and, startled by the mayhem around him as well as the unfamiliar "dalmatian" at his mistress' feet, dug into the latter with his powerful jaws and, knocking Danielle backward, ran at full tilt with her skirt down the runway.

"Charlie, come back," Maria Parnell could be heard shouting as she, Anna and Alia took off after their fleeing pet.

Unable to break her fall as a result of Charlie's attempted escape, the completely flustered Danielle Parnell careened ass first into the lap of young Julian Silver who was still sitting on the floor in the middle of the runway. Reacting instinctively to the woman about to land on him, Julian reached his hands out towards Mrs. Parnell's to help break her fall. Startled by the skinny fingers now grasping her tan, toned shoulders, and at last having freed her shoe from the wooden jaws that held it, Danielle attempted to jump back to her feet while chiding Julian to "get your hands off me you little pervert."

In what would be his third unintended wardrobe malfunction "assist" of the evening, the colossally awkward Julian Silver, thinking he could use the shoulder straps of Mrs. Parnell's tank top to assist her to her feet, held fast to those straps as she bounded up unassisted the result of which was to tear the black ribbed garment entirely from her sexy tanned back. As the startled sexpot regained her footing amidst the hollers, whistles, catcalls, applause and, especially from the women, howling laughter -- the full weight of her predicament hit her like a ton of bricks. How did this happen? Where are my clothes? Oh my God, Will can see me in my panties! And all these people -- these nobodies -- they can see my sexy, practically naked, body. No -- this can't be happening -- they're pointing and laughing.

And they most certainly were!

"I love the thong Cruella," taunted Rebecca Ross as she read the glittering message atop Danielle's tiny thong.

"Look at that ass," howled Katherine Wray -- more aroused on this night than she had been in her entire life.

The still stunned, mortified mother of three, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes the size of saucers, stared vacantly at the laughing crowd. But then, upon spying the "dorky" Julian Silver at her feet holding her torn shirt in his bony hands, Mrs. Parnell reared back with an open palm shouting, "you . . . little . . . spaz . . . this is all your fault . . ." But as she swung her arm at the cowering Julian's face -- Danielle's ensuing slap was suddenly and powerfully stopped by the vice-like grip that the short but sturdy Rachel Miras placed on her wrist.

"You leave that boy alone you little tease," raged the determined Mrs. Miras. "It's time that someone taught you a lesson. The only one who's going to get a spanking tonight is you!"

As the entire crowd went wild, its women cheering Rachel on as if she was a conquering heroine, the increasingly humiliated queen bee -- Danielle Marie Parnell -- tried one last time to regain control. Somewhat frantically, but with as much authority as her current situation would permit, Mrs. Parnell commanded, "let go of me this instant you fat cow. Just who do you think you are!?!"

"I'm the girl whose finally going to give you what you deserve you show-off," responded Rachel Miras without missing a beat and, as Katherine Wray handed her a white wooden folding chair from beside the runway, the stocky Mrs. Miras, after unclasping the shocked prima donna's dog-print bra from her spectacularly pert tits, pulled a startled Danielle Parnell across her lap and began paddling the sexy mom's posterior.

"That's for taking my parking spot this morning," cried out the now dominant Mrs. Miras as she spanked Danielle's taught bottom.

"And that's for making fun of Katherine," continued Rachel, bringing the pain to Mrs. Parnell as the appreciative and nearly orgasmic Katherine Wray shouted in her dulcet Southern tones, "you go girl -- give it to her good!"

"And that's for telling me I look like my dog. In fact, looking at your sl*tty little outfit tonight it seems you're the one who looks like a dog. Why don't you bark for me doggy," taunted Rachel Miras as she continued to redden the uber-MILF's behind.

"Please . . . no . . . not that," whispered Danielle feebly, thinking back to how she had teased her own sexy reflection with that very command only a few short hours earlier.

"I said BARK . . . LIKE . . . A . . . DOG," bellowed Rachel Miras punctuating each word of her command with an ever more forceful slap.

What happened next was, for many women in attendance that night, a high water mark of vindication for the abuses that Mrs. Danielle Parnell had heaped upon them over the years.

"Woof," chirped the humiliated Danielle softly from the lap of Rachel Miras as the broken alpha lawyer's eyes locked with those of her son Will right before the boy passed out.

Buoyed by her success thus far, the stout Mrs. Miras continued "bad dog -- I can't hear you!!"

"I'm sorry Mistress," croaked Danielle sheepishly, "WOOF, WOOF, WOOF, WOOF." And then, as if freed by her humiliation Danielle loudly confessed, "I am a bad dog, a very, very bad dog . . . a very bad girl dog . . ."

"And what do we call a girl dog, Danni? Tell me . . . what are you," teased Rachel Miras while softly "petting" Danielle on her head.

Completely broken at this point and having slid from Rachel's lap onto the runway where, on all fours wearing only her 5" black and white spotted heels and her now soaking wet dog-print Cruella thong, Mrs. Danielle Parnell conceded what everyone already knew.

"I'm a b*tch."

And as money flew at the stage in support of PAWS for the Cause, Rebecca Ross d****d the winner's sash over the neck of the astonished, broken, former tease. It read simply, "Best in Show."

[amfanon]

Fantastic. I'm a huge fan of redheads, in Silver you created the perfect character. Looking forward to more of both of them.

Which brings me to...more thoughts. While two beauties are certainly better than one, what (for me) brings out the "whole greater than sum of the parts" opinion requires that the two interact more. Here, Silver appears, has her part, then leaves before Parnell gets her turn. Both parts were great, but in future stories, to take it to the next level you might have them together either participating in, or at least sharing, the other's humiliation.

Additionally, you build up these stories fantastically, but then the climactic portion happens pretty fast, comparatively. Stretching it out some might help. It's a problem (how do you plausibly keep the situation going when any person would take steps to end it or escape given sufficient time?) I have too (though my primary problem is inability to finish any stories, which makes the other problems sorta moot), so it definitely jumps out at me.

Please take it as constructive criticism...you're definitely one of my current favorites here! Keep the stories coming

[DrVillian]

Another great story well done again.

[amfanon]

Originally Posted by amf85

Fantastic. I'm a huge fan of redheads, in Silver you created the perfect character. Looking forward to more of both of them.

Which brings me to...more thoughts. While two beauties are certainly better than one, what (for me) brings out the "whole greater than sum of the parts" opinion requires that the two interact more. Here, Silver appears, has her part, then leaves before Parnell gets her turn. Both parts were great, but in future stories, to take it to the next level you might have them together either participating in, or at least sharing, the other's humiliation.

Additionally, you build up these stories fantastically, but then the climactic portion happens pretty fast, comparatively. Stretching it out some might help. It's a problem (how do you plausibly keep the situation going when any person would take steps to end it or escape given sufficient time?) I have too (though my primary problem is inability to finish any stories, which makes the other problems sorta moot), so it definitely jumps out at me.

Please take it as constructive criticism...you're definitely one of my current favorites here! Keep the stories coming

So, upon further reflection, I think I've come up with some starters. And yes, I know I'm responding to myself.

The question is why would a character, if a wardrobe malfunction is happening slowly, not just leave? How do you keep them there, allowing time to each loss/mishap to have it's own section, and allow for multiple periods of embarrassment, exposure, and shame instead of just one condensed period?

2 answers: 1) the character prevents herself from leaving, or 2) something else prevents her from leaving. I know, vague and useless, so lets move on. For #1 the scenario almost always seems to be an attempt to reclaim the clothes the character has lost instead of simply cutting her losses. Tsk tsk, poor decision. Inevitably this just leads to more being lost. For #2 it can be more varied, including physical restraint, restraint in the form of a person of authority not allowing the character to leave (such as a boss saying they have to finish their work or a teacher not allowing absence), or simply that leaving is considered worse than staying, such as if the character left she would encounter even more people. For #2, I know you already do quite well in the post-malfunction portion with the spankings, which many (myself included) very much enjoy

Anyway, hope this is helping. It's actually helping me a lot to put these into words.