[ENF] Will’s Mom Comes Undone

[samos]

Please continue:-)
"The ever arrogant Danielle Parnell" is the best target for next chapter:-)
Thanks.

[Chasmo]

So after nearly 18 months of quiet on the Danielle Parnell front - and despite a number of aborted story attempts during that period - I think at last I’ve found some inspiration for a new tale in this recent college admissions scandal.

From 30,000 feet I see a scanario where Danielle and maybe Nicole Silver get caught up in having paid to get Will and Nicole’s son Julian preferential treatment in respect of their admissions into Harvard.

Of course, the news of Nicole’s actions breaks first and it’s only after making a holier than thou speech about it that Danielle is caught having engaged in similar behavior. Specifically, the news about Danielle breaks during that very public speech and her ensuing attempted arrest by the lovely Lori Heilkamp under the orders of DA Emily Duncan result in Danielle and Will losing much more than just the moral high ground.

So that I don’t once again lose momentum on this one, I’m soliciting ideas for how this general story could be made better. For example, are there other characters (e.g., Katherine Wray or Jerry Sarano) who should likewise be caught up in the scandal? Should Anna Parnell have been reminded by her mother and brother about how she needs to live up to Will’s standards in terms of her study habits which adds to her joy at their humiliation? Should she be the one who discovers her mother’s deceit and reports it to the police? Should Danielle’s comments be made at the crew team’s senior dinner so that all Will’s buddies get to see her (and him) get a well deserved comeuppance?

In any event, I can’t promise that any or all comments will make it into the story but I thank everyone in advance for any thoughts they have that might help me at last get a new one written!

[hocman]

Hey Chasmo, so glad to see you back. Can't tell you how excited I was seeing this pop up, been along time and I know these stories get harder to write. I've always liked Katherine Wray so getting her involved would be great. Having Danielle's daughter witness her and Will's humiliation is a added bonus. Good luck with this, hope this helps a bit. Can't wait to see how Ms. Parnell is stripped and spanked this time. And of course the more witnesses the better!

[Chasmo]

"Gather round you two," Danielle Marie Parnell called to her teenage daughters Maria and Anna, the former a freshman and the latter a junior at the prestigious Archbishop Spaulding High School just north of Annapolis, Maryland, "your brother's acceptance from Harvard - mommy's own alma mater - is only one click away and I want you to see what it means to succeed in life."

"Yeah losers," chimed in Will Parnell, Danielle's oldest son, a high school senior and rower at Gonzaga College High School in Washington, D.C., "gather round for the unveiling."

Although Anna Parnell knew that disobeying her mother was never worth the cost, she was sick of the way that Danielle fawned over her and Maria's brother. How was it even possible that he had the audacity to apply to Harvard? With his middling grades and middle-of-the pack crew team performance their mother should have been concerned about him getting into a strong community college. Instead, Danielle seemed almost metaphysically confident about the outcome - it made no sense. And yet, as Anna and Maria watched, their arrogant brother clicked on the waiting crimson icon at the harvard.edu site only to unbelievably cause a letter to open on the screen that read, "Dear William Parnell . . . we are pleased to invite you to join the Harvard Class of 2023."

"Nothing to it," proclaimed the smug senior, "it was in the bag along. Looks like we'll have another Harvard grad in the family right mom."

As his mother beamed with pride and no small hint of hubris, and after hugging her preening son, she turned to her two daughters stoically.

"Let this be a lesson for you two," she chided, "hard work and a dedication to athletic prowess are key to following in your brother's footsteps."

With straight A's and a spot as a freshman on each of the women's varsity field hockey and lacrosse teams, Maria Parnell escaped what came next.

"And Anna, perhaps if you stopped dressing like a boy, improved that posture of yours and cut out all of this computer gaming nonsense, you could still salvage a similar outcome for yourself," Mrs. Parnell practically scoffed. "And it wouldn't kill you to get exposed to some sunlight either young lady."

Anna Parnell was incredulous. She was the single most capable programmer in her school, having won countless awards for creating white hat hacking algorithms since she was in junior high. What's more, she was carrying a full load of AP classes with a 4.25 GPA and was the Vice President of the National Honor Society. Notwithstanding those accolades, she always kept her ego in check, volunteered at the local hospital, was a member and co-captain of the equestrian team and still was concerned she didn't have what it took for admission into the likes of Harvard or Yale. Finally, as for her dress code, the mere fact that she did not follow in her mother's 5" high-heeled footsteps did not suggest for a moment that she dressed like a boy.

How in God's name had her half-witted bully of a brother gotten in, she asked herself again. And why did her imperious mother see it as anything but a foregone conclusion.

** *

The news of the college admissions scandal had rocked the entire nation. A host of wealthy parents, including titans of industry, Silicon Valley billionaires and even celebrities, had been caught in a sting operation by the FBI for funneling in some cases millions of dollars through a nee'r-do-well con man who in turn was bribing coaches and other officials at some of America's top universities to unfairly advantage their children. As the "ninety-nine percent" smiled, some of the nation's "one percenters" were being humiliated on a very public stage for their unbridled hubris.

The malfeasance, however, wasn't limited to Hollywood, Wall Street and San Francisco Bay area parents. No, the alleged fraudsters came from all over the country including, in the case of Nicole Yanika Silver, from the Parnell family's home town of Davidson. And it was that news that had put a bright smile on Danielle's gorgeous emerald eyed face as she click-clacked her way down the marble halls of the Davidson Municipal Courthouse.

As the Managing Partner of the Washington, D.C. based International legal leviathan SmythKnight, Danielle was prominently known nationwide for her legal prowess. That reputation likewise permitted her to give back to the Davidson community by serving, from time to time and on a pro bono basis, as a judge on Davidson's municipal court. Ordinarily, the cases presented the humdrum issues faced by any affluent community - ordinance violations, minor traffic infractions and the here and there of other small claims. Today, however, was different. Today Mrs. Nicole Silver - another powerful Washington, DC lawyer and Gonzaga mom, who in Danielle's view always desperately wanted to best her but never even came close - would be appearing before Judge Danielle Marie Parnell on charges related to the national scandal de jour - and Danielle loved it.

What she also loved was that the opulent marble courthouse - usually as sleepy as the inside of the Taj Mahal - was packed. From local to national media - from curious onlookers to outraged activists -- men and women young and old had come to see the latest chapter of the quickly unfolding national calamity. Veritably strutting down the corridor to her chambers past this waiting throng, Danielle felt literally thousands of eyes upon her - and she absorbed it like the sun. Dressed in a tight fitting black pin-striped Prada suit - the skirt of which hugged her fabulously exercised ass like a glove and the bolero jacket of which plunged down in front to make clear, albeit they were covered by a soft white camisole, that Danielle's ample breasts were truly spectacular - Danielle prowled the courthouse main hall like a runway model. Her 5" black suede Louboutin pumps profiled her spectacular calves marvelously and her pearl necklace, serious updo, natural hued make-up, cat-eye glasses and soft pink lipstick rounded out every man's fantasy of a female alpha lawyer.

Of course, despite every male within eye shot being unable to take his eyes off her, Danielle showed them only disdain. In fact, looking down upon the pathetic members of the opposite sex - at times even chiding them with an "eyes up here counselor," or a "your wife is right there, Mr. Duncan," was like a drug to Danielle. Leaving men and boys hard and humiliated gave her a singular rush; one that was only matched, if not exceeded, by how the unchecked lust of her male onlookers brought even more shame and humiliation upon their unworthy wives, girlfriends and mothers. You men all want to see me and your wives all want to be me she would repeat to herself in an almost constant refrain.

Today, however, was better yet for the diva of Davidson. Today Danielle was going to - in front of her own community and the nation - imperiously look down upon a woman who dared think she was Mrs. Parnell's equal. Nicole Silver, an incredibly fit but Rubenesque 5'7" red-head who was likewise a Washington lawyer and who, with a son only a year ahead of Will at Gonzaga, had butted heads with Mrs. Parnell since they first met as members of the Gonzaga Mothers' Guild. For their part, Gonzaga's all-male student body lusted almost equally after the two sexy MILFs who were always attempting to out-do one another amidst their hormone charged observances. Their rivalry likewise fueled the fantasies of the school's male teachers and fathers and drew the considerable unspoken ire of the female staff and the Mothers's Guild's other members. But whatever hubris the gorgeous Mrs. Silver may previously have had was no place in sight as she was escorted into the courthouse this day.

Unlike Felicity Huffman whose introduction to the discovery of her crimes came via a dawn raid with ten or more FBI agents, guns drawn, arresting her at her home, Mrs. Silver was permitted by Emily Duncan, the local DA and another Gonzaga mom, to turn herself in this morning at the courthouse to face her indictment and bond hearing. So it was that the statuesque Nicole, in sky high black heels, a form fitting mid-calf black skirt and a tight but conservative white cotton blouse, made her way down the same hall that Danielle had traversed mere moments before. With her gorgeous red mane in a tight professional bun, large aviator sunglasses hid the mortified look in Nicole's eyes.

"This just won't do Emily," Danielle said to the DA as they chatted in her chambers.

"Despite our acquaintance with Nicole - in fact because of it," the judge went on with false concern, "we cannot have her sitting there in her Sunday best. She must be made an example of. After all, she is about to be charged with a felony."

"But Danielle . . ," Emily began.

"It's your honor please Mrs. Duncan," the imperious Judge Parnell interrupted, loving the bonus of demeaning Emily Duncan that she always enjoyed when serving on the court.

"But your honor," Emily went on wishing just for once she could smack Danielle in her smug face, "it seems a bit much to have Nicole put into a jump suit just for the bail hearing don't you agree? Hasn't she been humiliated enough by all the attention this is getting?"

"Whatever humiliation she is suffering - which in my personal view can never be enough in light of the impact of her unbridled arrogance on those deserving students who were deprived of a Harvard education - she has heaped upon herself."

"In fact," Danielle continued, "why don't you have that bottle-blond officer Heilkamp - who could use a bit more fitness in my view - make sure that once Nicole has been strip searched and put into a jumpsuit she also be put in cuffs and leg-irons before being brought into my courtroom. After all, the entire nation is watching and I have an obligation to average, every day Americans to show them that these privileged provocateurs of justice are treated no differently than would they be treated."

"But your . . ." Emily began again.

"You seem to be under the misimpression that I'm asking you Emily," Danielle cut her off, "now just do what you're told and close the door on your way out."

As Emily Duncan walked out - more angry than ever at the dominating tease that had once again humiliated her but terrified to do anything about it - Danielle smiled like the Cheshire Cat. She generally despised average, every day Americans who she often referred to as "the great unwashed," but to throw them in the face of that ultra-liberal Emily Duncan, all in the service of humiliating Nicole Silver, brought her almost unparalleled joy.

The forty-five minutes that next passed in Danielle Parnell's courtroom were as horrifying for Nicole Silver as they were a virtual delight for Judge Parnell. Having been stripped of her sexy professional armor - heels, skirt, blouse, sunglasses and updo - and put on display like a common criminal in white sneakers and an ill- fitting green jump suit with hair cascading willy-nilly down her back and all make-up removed - Nicole Silver was beaten event before Danielle relentlessly upbraided her.

"In conclusion - Mrs. Silver - you have shown to your community and your nation the ugly face of hubris by elevating your privileged C student son above those hard working children deserving of his spot. What's more - you devalued the education of every student in or about to attend Harvard - like my own son - whose efforts and education will forever be tainted by this scandal. Shame on you madam - shame on you. Your bail is set at one million dollars."

* * *
Anna Parnell knew she had to work fast. There wasn't much time between her mother's expected return from the courthouse - where she was overseeing Jules' mother's indictment - and the annual Gonzaga Crew Team formal at which her mother was scheduled to be the keynote speaker. This entire admissions scandal had awakened in young Anna the need to discover, or at least attempt to discover, how it was that Jules Silver - a better student and rower than own her brother - was only able to get into Harvard via an illegal bribe paid by his mom, while Will seemingly was accepted on his supposed merits. Something was not right in the State of Maryland!

Although she knew the consequences of getting caught were unthinkable, Anna Parnell also knew that the only way to get the answers she sought was to hack into her mother's personal computer. Whatever evidence existed, if any, as to how Will managed to get into Harvard, had to reside on Danielle Marie Parnell's hard drive. What Anna soon found - after one of her encryption breaking algorithms revealed her mother's password to be "willshotmom" would, at least in the cozy community of Davidson, make Nicole Silver's bribery seem like the height of motherly morality.

[obo1]

One of my two favorite authors is back! The other being bulldog y 2 k. Great to see you writing again. Looking forward to more chapters.

[Chasmo]

Walking into the National Museum for Women in the Arts - a classic Revival Style masterpiece of marble in downtown DC that billed itself as "the only major museum in the world solely dedicated to celebrating women's achievements in the visual, performing, and literary arts" - Danielle Marie Parnell felt triumphant. She reveled in the fact that she had used her connections and wiles to have a shrine to women be the location for the all-boys Gonzaga College High School Crew Team formal. The unworthy men and boys of the school - all of whom lusted after her as did every man - didn't begin to appreciate the irony - the losers. What's more, any of their pathetic mothers, wives and girlfriends who may have appreciated it saw Danielle's clever tactic as a "win for the sisterhood," or some other hair-brained feminist misconception. As if Mrs. Parnell would ever consider them her equals - it was pathetic.

As the lovely lawyer made one of her patented grand entrances, mens' heads turned, necks snapped and pants tented - she was a vision. Dressed in a deep royal purple Elie Saab evening gown, with a backless sequin halter top and a thigh split, chiffon floor length skirt, Danielle was worthy of the red carpets of Cannes and LA. With a body better than most women half her age, the 47 year old stunner's sculpted back and arms, made tan by a recent trip to the Turks and Caicos, were magnificent. Each step she took in her 5.5" stiletto-heeled purple and gold Jimmy Choo Karlotta 100 peep-toe pumps, covered in a rich brocade fabric with a slim golden strap encircling each of her perfect ankles and a decorative bow profiling the magnificently pedicured toes of each of her feet, exposed and profiled the musculature of each of her magnificent thighs.

And the view did not go unnoticed. In addition to every adult male at the gala, the twenty or so fit teens who populated the crew team had eyes for no one else once Danielle appeared and - although she glared at them imperiously, showing not a hint of reciprocation -- she loved it. Despite it otherwise being a black tie affair, the seven or so 18 year-old seniors on the Gonzaga team including Will, were dressed in white buck shoes, with white knee socks, white Bermuda shorts, white cotton oxfords with a royal purple tie and royal purple blazers with the Gonzaga crest embroidered in white on the front breast pocket.

Those same boys would be sitting alongside Danielle on the raised dais from which she would give her key note speech. Situated between the two descending marble staircases on each side of the museum's great hall, the dais was awash in the royal purple glow of Gonzaga's famous colors. Behind the long table, bedecked with purple and white orchids, a large purple curtain hid what Mrs. Parnell was there to unveil - a brand new racing shell for the national championship boys heavyweight eights to use at the upcoming Royal Henley Regatta in England. Off to each side were two big screens on which a revolving photo montage of the team's stellar season was now showing and to which Danielle would refer during her speech.

As the crowd of parents, siblings, students, college scouts and others made their way into the lovely affair, and as a jazz band played and hors d'oeuvres were passed, Danielle Marie Parnell drunk in both the adulation of the throng's male attendees and the self-satisfaction of a day on which she had seen her baby boy admitted to Harvard, publicly vanquished and humiliated her red-headed nemesis and set the stage for what would be her magnificent unveiling of the crew team's finest boat yet. Little was she aware of what else would soon by unveiled.

* * *

Anna Parnell originally had cursed herself for letting her mother browbeat her into running the audio-visual equipment for Will's stupid crew dinner. She wasn't getting paid, neither she nor any girl had ever attended Gonzaga, the school had its own AV department and - worst of all - it was going to ruin a Friday night. But that hadn't mattered to her mother who, as usual, bent all to her will through an alchemy of intimidation, wiles and plain old bossiness. Now, however, all that had changed and Anna was eager to make sure that her arrogant mother and brother got the public "display" they so richly deserved. The only real question was how exactly to put her plan into effect.

"Well it's about time," were the first words the eldest Parnell daughter heard as she made her way into the museum's opulent cocktail hour, "where have you been? Thank goodness your brother was able to get the photo montage going or you would have embarrassed the two of us even further."

"I'm sorry mom . . .," Anna began.

"You most certainly are Anna," her mother interrupted sharply, "and that's something that we're going to need to address. For now though I'm less interested in your hollow apologies than I am you making sure the evening's presentation goes off without a hitch. Now get to it young lady . . . chop, chop."

As Danielle abruptly turned away on her designer high heels, and the train of her ludicrously expensive chiffon gown brushed across her daughter's sensible, flat, rubber soled shoes and black jeans - that she had instructed Anna to wear so as not to have one of the "tech crew" steal any attention from herself and the other honorees - Anna was finally freed from any sense of guilt or remorse for what she was about to do. Whatever it was that her mother had coming - she most certainly deserved it.

* * *

Jerry Sarano felt equal parts nervous and ridiculous as he made his way into the National Museum of Women in the Arts for the annual Gonzaga Crew Team formal. Despite all of the other adult males being in black tie, he had been "summoned" to appear dressed in the same apparel as the Gonzaga seniors - and he was in no position to resist. Sarano had been invited to the gala in the first place for two reasons. One was a matter of legacy insofar as the incredibly fit 52 year old was a Gonzaga alumnus who had led the team to both the 1983 and 1984 high school national championship titles. The second was more practical because, after many years as a partner at SmythKnight, the vaunted international law firm run by none other than Mrs. Danielle Marie Parnell, Mr. Sarano had recently been named the General Counsel of Harvard University. Gonzaga had invited him back in that capacity to celebrate the bond between the two schools as evidenced this evening by the recent admission of Will Parnell and a number of other seniors to esteemed university.

The usually suave and fashionable Sarano's summons to dress as a boy, however, came not as a requirement in his formal invitation, but rather as a "demand" from his former partner-qua-boss who took no small amount of joy upon seeing her one-time colleague turned out in what must have been his own high school senior formal suit.

"Why don't you look just dashing, Mr. Sarano," the comely counselor teased, "although by the looks of your shorts you might want to avoid bending over . . . or getting too excited."

As Jerry turned three shades of red, Danielle continued her assault on his dignity.

"Why Katherine," Danielle called with the falsest of smiles to Mrs. Katherine Wray whose son Jackson was a freshman on the crew team and who was in attendance with him at the gala, "look who's here dear, it's Jerry Sarano . . . doesn't he look adorable."

Katherine couldn't stifle a giggle upon seeing the usually cocksure Sarano - most often decked out in the latest Italian suits - looking like an Eton school boy. Although the lithe southern beauty was happily married she had long lusted after both the arrogant Danielle Parnell and the equally supercilious Jerry Sarano. Seeing the one - bedecked like a goddess in her purple finery - practically emasculating the other - dressed like a little school boy -- was almost too much for her to bear.

"Hi Jerry," Katherine laughed as she felt some wetness forming between her fantastically toned runners legs, "I like your knees."

Mr. Jerry Sarano was more humiliated than he had ever been is life - at least for now - and he had no one to blame but himself. It all seemed harmless enough when the first e-mail arrived from his former partner only six or so months ago congratulating him on his appointment to the General Counsel position at Harvard. He and Danielle had practiced law together for almost 20 years prior to the move and although for the vast majority of that time they had been two peas in an arrogant pod - each one thinking he or she was the height of fitness, fashion, intellect and sophistication and together looking down upon and mocking everyone else - since Danielle had overtaken him in prestige and power he had privately resented her while she began very publicly to mock him. What's more, although he had always thought her beautiful, the more she dominated him professionally the more he lusted after her personally - and she knew it.

"I really do miss you," her second e-mail had read, "it's just not the same here without you as my partner."

Finally, he thought, he had her. Whatever her true motivations, whether it was genuine nostalgia - which he doubted - or Danielle wanting to have Harvard as a client - which he figured was her true motivation - he had her right where he wanted her. And then she suggested dinner which was where it all started to go terribly wrong. She made the reservation at one of his favorite DC restaurants. She raved about his fashion sense, praised his incredible fitness, ran her long fingernails across his hand as she brushed so tantalizingly against it - all while she poured more and more wine. The topics began to turn from work and the "good old days" to things of a more prurient nature. Could he guess what she was wearing under her dress? Did he lust after any of the other "girls" at the office? And what was he wearing under his tight Italian suit she teased. She could only imagine what he looked like "out of uniform." Maybe he could send her a picture or two - that night - before he went to sleep. She would love to have the image to fuel what no doubt would be the sweetest of her dreams.

Not twenty minutes after he left the restaurant nor two minutes after arriving back in his suite at the Four Seasons had Jerry Sarano begun to shed his fancy suit - and his dignity - and snap pictures of himself in various states of undress. The most incriminating - which were the ones he of course e-mailed to Danielle almost immediately - were those of him in nothing but a black jockstrap, hand on package, smiling like an idiot at the mirror reflecting yet another man who had been done in by Danielle Marie Parnell.

Unlike the string of e-mails that had led to his undoing, the e-mail that arrived from Danielle Marie Parnell the next day revealed both her true purpose and her nature.

"I always knew you were pathetic Jerry but I never thought you'd sink to this level of perversion . . . how dare you," it began. "I really don't see any alternative but to go to the Harvard Board of Governors with this . . . I'm sorry but you need help."

Within seconds he had dialed her number and - thankfully - she picked up.

"I don't know what came over me Danielle," the exasperated Sarano began, "I'm so . . . "

But before the next word left his mouth Danielle - as usual - interrupted.

"Shut up you pathetic loser," Danielle sniped with complete disdain,"I don't want to hear it . You've always been weak and sickened me but this time at least I'll be able to use it. My son Will has applied to Harvard and unless you want to see your little strip show sent out to everyone you know he is going to get in - do you hear me?"

"Of course Danielle," Jerry responded both terrified and relieved, "consider it done."

"Very good Gerald," she replied using his given name which she knew he hated. "Once my little boy has been accepted . . . and I've had a but of fun . . . you'll get your sexy little pictures back."

The "fun" of which Danielle spoke became clear in another e-mail he received from her after he go the invitation to the crew gala.

"Show up in your shorts and blazer for the event and the pictures will never see the light of day."

Or would they.

* * *

Anna watched while his mother and Mrs. Wray teased that imbecile Mr. Sarano and, despite knowing that he half did it to himself, she felt sorry for him. Since Will was born the Parnell children all knew him as Mr. Jerry. Whatever may have transpired in the twenty or so years since he gave her mom the chance to work with him - on balance - Danielle Parnell owed her career to Mr. Jerry. And now she was humiliating the man to get Anna's idiot brother into Harvard and, worse yet, just for sport. It just wasn't right.

Mr. Jerry may have been too stupid to record the incriminating conversation in which Danielle laid out the quid pro quo for Will's admission to Harvard but not even Danielle was smart enough to realize that Anna could pull the that recording from the records of her mother's own cell phone. Ah, the perils of the cloud.

It was time for "willssmartsister" to afford herself and Mr. Jerry some payback on "willshotmom."

[tomb125]

Great to see you back! You have been missed!

[Chasmo]

"If folks could begin to take their seats," came the voice of Adam Hess, "a Gonzaga trustee, former rower himself and the nominal master of ceremonies for the evening."

"And if Mrs. Parnell, Mr. Sarano and this year's seniors will please come to the front of the dais to have their picture taken before we begin - thanks everyone."

Unlike most men, for whom she had neither time nor tolerance, Danielle Marie Parnell had long been taken with the handsome Mr. Hess and never quite understood how he found himself married to Rebecca Ross, who Danielle felt to be completely unworthy of her 6'4" husband. Whatever lust she may have harbored for Adam Hess, however, did not prevent Mrs. Parnell from teasing him like any man or from demeaning him when he on occasion acted, on a pro bono basis, as the bailiff at the Davidson Municipal Courthouse. In fact, earlier in the day Danielle had imposed upon Mr. Hess the responsibility of assisting Officer Lori Heilkamp in cuffing and shackling Nicole Silver all despite their pathetic protestations - just the memory of it brought a smile to her beautiful face.

As the senior rowers and Jerry Sarano, all in their white Bermuda shorts and purple blazers, gathered around the preening Mrs. Parnell, she couldn't help but sneer at the other women in attendance whose existence seemed to evaporate in the eyes of the men by her side. Her disdain did not go unnoticed.

"Would you just look at her up there," exclaimed Rebecca Ross to Katherine Wray and Emily Duncan, "you'd think we were all here to celebrate her rather than our sons."

"You know she thinks that," giggled Katherine Wray who could barely peel her eyes off of the arrogant woman who so often demeaned her.

"That's for sure," Emily chimed in, "and you should have seen what she did to Nicole Silver today in court. While the two of them usually deserve one another today I genuinely felt sorry for Nicole."

"Just once I'd like to see her get hers," Rebecca added, "it would serve that little tease right.

In the meantime, Adam Hess was imploring the photographer to finish up.

"Maybe just one more," he directed, "this time with Mrs. Parnell, Mr. Sarano and Will . . to celebrate our soon-to-be Harvard man's last Gonzaga hurrah."

As Jerry, Danielle and Will prepared for the final photo - at least the final planned photo - of the evening, Danielle's gold lamé clutch slipped form her perfectly manicured hand to the floor below.

"I'll get that," came the immediate response from the always chivalrous Sarano, happy to anything that would put him in his tormentor's good graces.

"Maybe you should let Will do it Jerry," scoffed Danielle, "after all, we wouldn't want you to come bursting out of your tight shorts now would we - how embarrassing would that be."

"Yeah Mr. Jerry . . . try not to have a wardrobe malfunction," added Will Parnell smugly before recovering his mother's fallen purse.

Although internally incensed by the mockery of Will and his diva of a mother, Jerry Sarano outwardly simply stared stupidly into space. Worse yet, Mrs. Parnell's pointed jibe at his potential humiliation manifested itself in the front of the very shorts he was hoping not to split. That reaction was shared of course by the senior rowers present who, although not in the picture, were standing nearby and lusting all the more over the unabashed sexiness of Will's domineering mom. For her part, Danielle loved it all - smiling on the inside at yet another takedown of her former mentor and drinking in the adulation that she was so easily able to solicit from the young, strong men by her side.

"I'd like to see her have a wardrobe malfunction," Rebecca Ross groused as she, Katherine Wray and Emily Duncan made their way to their dinner table for the evening.

"Me too," Mrs. Wray chimed in perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

"It sure would serve that little tease right," echoed Emily Duncan, "especially after what she put poor Nicole through today."

"It's not just today Em," Mrs. Ross replied, "it's every day, sauntering around in her tight outfits with that smug look on her face and shaking that little ass of hers in front of every man in sight - only to mock them if they ever dare to meet her gaze. And don't get me started about how she teases my husband when she lords over that courtroom."

"If you . . . ladies . . . could finish up your gossiping and sit down," came the voice of Mrs. Parnell from the dais, "perhaps Mr. Ross would be able to get the evening started."

Caught flat-footed again by the very shrew they were discussing, and left to slink to their table in embarrassment, each of Emily Duncan, Katherine Wray and Rebecca Ross longed for the day when little Miss Perfect would be the one embarrassed for once. That day was nigh.

* * *

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen," Adam Hess began from the rostrum in the middle of the raised dais, "to the annual Gonzaga Crew Team formal where we plan to celebrate our accomplishments this season, wish our departing seniors well and unveil our newest racing shell. As a first order of business I'd like to introduce our two special guests here with me and our senior boys on the dais this evening. From Harvard University, and a former Gonzaga oarsman himself - who is clearly not afraid to repurpose his old high school Bermudas and blazer - Mr. Jerry Sarano."

Feeling all the more like an idiot because Adam Hess and now all in attendance thought he wore his outfit tonight by choice, Jerry Sarano stood up a bit too fast for his own good. Thankfully, whatever tear had begun at the seat of his shorts remained unnoticed - for now.

"Sitting next to Jerry," Adam Hess continued, "is one of the nation's most celebrated lawyers, one our city's most dedicated patrons, the president of our Gonzaga Mothers' Guild, the very proud mom of the soon-to-be Harvard man - her son Will - sitting next to her and our keynote speaker for the evening. Ladies and gentlemen I give you Mrs. Danielle Marie Parnell."

As Rebecca, Katherine, Emily and all of the other women present - including her own daughter Anna - choked on the praise being heaped upon her my Adam Hess, and every man present strained to get a glimpse of her spectacular legs as she uncrossed them to approach the podium, Danielle drank in the applause echoing through the room.

"Why thank you very much, Adam" Mrs. Parnell began purposefully letting her gaze linger on the handsome Mr. Hess just long enough to get his wife's goat, "I'm delighted to be here among these successful, fit and handsome young men . . . not to mention my former partner who despite being some thirty five years out of high school has decided this evening to dress like one of them."

Jerry Sarano blushed as the crowd had a good laugh at his expense - despite himself, he both hated and lusted after Danielle.

"Before I speak briefly to the successful year that our boys have had," Danielle continued, "and give you the unveiling you've all been waiting for - I need to address the indignity that one of our own parents - Mrs. Nicole Yanika Silver - has brought upon our boys, our school and our community."

Despite everyone at the gala - including Nicole's son Jules who was sitting on the dais not far from Danielle - knowing what had transpired, to a person they were shocked by Danielle's raising the issue so publicly.

"Rather than pontificate and patronize," Mrs. Parnell continued pontificating in a patronizing tone, "let me just say that those who feel they're above the law . . . who think they needn't play by the rules . . . who believe that access is a function of money or contacts rather than plain old hard work . . . will always have that facade ripped away and be shown for who they truly are . . . cheaters and cowards. It's just a shame that - in this case - Nicole's cheating has cast a shadow over this otherwise wonderful institution and effectively tainted for some of its students - including my own son Will - the achievement of being accepted by Harvard University."

Satisfied with driving yet another nail into the proverbial coffin of Mrs. Nicole Silver who, unbeknownst to Danielle, had made bail earlier in the day and was now standing in the wings of the very platform from which Danielle mocked her, Danielle turned to the point of her speech.

"So - we're just about to the point in the evening that you've all been waiting for - the big unveiling," Danielle teased the crowd as yet unaware of the true meaning of her words.

"But first, a few brief slides to show just how much money the team has raised this season. Anna - if you would dim the lights please, we can get this show on the road."

* * *

For what would be the final time that evening, Anna Parnell did what her mother asked and dimmed the museum lights so that all that the crowd could see was her imperious mother illuminated by a spot light, the purple curtain behind her and the two large screens flanking each side of the curtain. Projected onto one of the screens was Gonzaga's mascot - a proud eagle - sketched in white on a sea of deep purple. On the other screen, toward which Danielle turned to begin her brief remarks, was a summary of the funds raised that year by the Gonzaga Crew Boosters.

"As you can see from this summary," the magnificent MILF began delighted as always by being in the literal and proverbial spotlight, "we've had another record year of fundraising of which we should all be very proud. As we move to the next slide . . ."

But what popped up next on the screen was not what anyone, especially not Danielle or Jerry Sarano, expected. Instead of a further breakdown of the monies raised by the eager parents and other members of the Gonzaga Booster Club, the crowd saw what appeared to be a large screen-shot of an e-mail.

* * *

To: Jerry Sarano
From: Danielle M. Parnell
Subject: Congratulations
__________________________________________________ __________________________

Dear Jerry,

Congratulations again on your being named to the GC spot at Harvard - what an honor!

I really do miss you. It's just not the same here without you as my partner.

Sincerely,

Danielle

__________________________________________________ ____________________________

* * *

As confused as anyone else there present, Danielle relied on her many years of crisis management to play off the unexpected e-mail with humor.

"Well, I don't know exactly how that made its way into the presentation," she smiled as smoothly as ever, "but, as long as it's there, let's take another moment - as I did here - to congratulate Mr. Sarano on his accomplishment."

As the somewhat flummoxed crowd began to applaud - and as Jerry, now highlighted by Anna in a second spotlight, smiled sheepishly - Danielle took over again.

"Anna - let's move on please," she said with just a hint of annoyance in her voice as she wondered whether her daughter - somehow - may have slipped in that e-mail just to embarrass her.

But when the next slide appeared - a large screen shot of yet another e-mail - it started to become clear that Danielle's embarrassment had only just begun.

* * *

To: Jerry Sarano
From: Danielle M. Parnell
Subject: Dinner (and drinks)
__________________________________________________ __________________________

Hey there (former) partner! LOL!

Rumor has it you're going to be in town this week. I hope that means you'll let me take you to dinner to celebrate that big new job of yours.

I know you love Fiola and I'd be happy to make a reservation there for the two of us.

Maybe you could wear one of your tight Italian suits you know I like so much

Hoping to see you soon.

D
__________________________________________________ ____________________________


* * *

As snickering could be heard from the crowd in the darkness, particularly from the women who Danielle had long looked down upon, and as Danielle swallowed hard at what she read on the screen, Anna Parnell smiled wryly. The actual e-mail from her mother hadn't mentioned anything about Jerry's tight suits. No, her mother would have thought herself too smart - although it turned out she was wrong - to leave any paper or electronic trail behind the elaborate ruse she planned and executed against the unwitting Mr. Jerry. That said, Mrs. Parnell desperately needed a taste of her own medicine and - the truth was - Danielle had used all of her feminine charms to ensnare and blackmail her former mentor all to puff up her own ego and to get Anna's arrogant brother into Harvard.

"I . . . I don't know exactly what's going on here," Danielle protested nervously shooting a withering glance at the back of the room where she knew the AV equipment - and her daughter -- were located, "Jerry . . . I mean . . . Mr. Sarano . . . and I . . . well . . . we did have that dinner . . . as old friends sometimes do . . . and I did invite him but . . ."

But before she could say another thing - the speakers astride the dais on which she stood crackled to life with what sounded like her own voice couched in background of clinking glasses, scraping plates, soft music and the other telltale sounds of a high end dining establishment during peak hours.

Although it took no small amount of doing, Anna Parnell had discovered on her mother's computer, saved to the cloud, an inadvertent recording made by Danielle on her phone during the Fiola dinner with Jerry. Anna did not play the entirety of the conversation but included without fail the most incriminating snippets . . .

"No - let me pour you some more wine . . ." purred Danielle's disembodied voice into the darkness of the museum, "with a body like that you can certainly take the calories . . ."

"You know all the girls at the office still lust after you don't you . . ," the voice teased, "wanting to know what you have on under your fancy suits . . . just like you want to know what I've got on under mine. . ."

"I can only imagine what you look like out of uniform," the sultry seductress continued her assault, "maybe you could send me a picture or two . . . you know . . . tonight before you go to sleep . . . it would certainly sweeten my dreams."

As the uncomfortable laughter that had accompanied the second e-mail began to grow to a crescendo - all to the absolute delight of the women present who were over the moon at seeing the continually confident Mrs. Parnell begin to get a little hot under her halter-top's sequined collar, Danielle attempted - as she had done so many times before - to reassert control of the situation.

"What is the meaning of this," she demanded to know with as much authority as possible but to no avail at all.

And then, as the laughter continued unabated, she spun around on her towering high heels to face the mortified Jerry Sarano who was still seated next to her on stage.

"You," she shouted at him giving up the ghost of trying to deny that the voice just heard over the loudspeaker was hers, "you recorded our dinner conversation didn't you . . you freak."

As Jerry proceeded to leap from his chair in order forcefully to deny Mrs. Parnell's charge - for, of course, he hadn't in fact recorded their conversation - the evening's histrionics only became more exaggerated. Forgetting as he bolted upright that his tight shorts had already suffered a tear in the back, Jerry Sarano was as unprepared for the loud rip that accompanied his rise as he was for the resulting fall that his ruined pants made quickly to his feet. Worse yet, in an effort to retrieve the very pictures that Danielle's voice had requested he take - a request which all present had now just heard again - Jerry had agreed to wear under his shorts the very black jockstrap he had on in those pictures.

And so it was for a moment that silence again enveloped the crowd as Jerry stood - both in person and in the e-mailed image that Anna Parnell had now caused to appear on the big screen in front of him - wearing only a naughty black jockstrap to cover his clearly raging manhood.

* * *

To: Danielle M. Parnell
From: Jerry Sarano
Subject: Your package has arrived!
__________________________________________________ ____________________________

Sweet dreams D!

The Italian Stallion

.jpeg attached
__________________________________________________ ____________________________

* * *

Before the stunned live crowd was even able to erupt in laughter the voice of Danielle Marie Parnell, coming not from the live woman on stage but again being broadcast over the museum's loudspeakers, chimed in again.

"I always knew you were pathetic Jerry but I never thought you'd sink to this level of perversion . . . how dare you," it began. "I really don't see any alternative but to go to the Harvard Board of Governors with this . . . I'm sorry but you need help."

As the live Jerry Sarano remained gob-smacked on stage with his knees now together and his hands attempting to cover the growing problem between his legs, his disembodied voice came over the same speakers in response

"I don't know what came over me Danielle," the exasperated Sarano pleaded, "I'm so . . . "

Not surprisingly to anyone, the recorded voice of Danielle - as usual - interrupted.

"Shut up you washed-up loser," sniped Mrs. Parnell with complete disdain,"I don't want to hear it . You've always been weak and sickened me but this time at least I'll be able to use it. My son Will has applied to Harvard and unless you want to see your little strip show sent out to everyone you know he is going to get in - do you hear me?"

A collective gasp came over the live crowd.

"Of course Danielle," Jerry's voice responded both terrified and relieved, "consider it done."

* * *

And that's when the floodgates of laughter most righteously opened with women, men, girls and boys alike guffawing at Danielle Marie Parnell being caught with her perfectly manicured hand in the cookie jar of her own private admissions scandal.

As Danielle momentarily froze, unsure on this occasion of exactly what to do next, the likes of Emily Duncan and Rebecca Ross were practically doubling over with laughter.

"Look at her up there," Rebecca almost shouted with glee, "little Miss I Have All the Answers has no idea what to do. She is mortified."

Katherine Wray in the meantime couldn't take her eyer off the humiliated Jerry Sarano who - unable to make his way off the dais - was struggling to cover himself with what was left of his ruined shorts.

"Mom," came the voice of Will Parnell, cracking so he sounded more like a prepubescent boy than a man of nearly 6"4" tall, "is this true . . . did you blackmail Mr. Jerry so that I could get into Harvard?"

Before Danielle - who now appeared to be in more than a little distress - could find the words to answer her son's query, a number of delicious subplots began to unfold.

"Looks like it's time to give up that captain's blazer," came the voice of Calum Duncan, the son of Emily Duncan and a senior teammate of Will's on the crew team who resented the arrogance of both the eldest Parnell child and his imperious mother.

"Yeah Parnell," chimed in Christian Tabash, another one of the seniors, "lose the blazer son . . . your days as our captain end now."

"Mom . . .," Will pleaded as he slowly removed his purple blazer in humiliation, "mommy . . . is it true?"

"Mommy," came a cry from one of the team's younger boys in the crowd, 'what a a wuss."

"Can you get me into Harvard mommy," came another.

Anna Parnell couldn't believe her luck. Her unstoppably loquacious mother was tongue-tied and her jerk of a brother was melting down. Time to turn up the heat.

After narrowing the two spot lights that now captured her mother and the still pantless Jerry Sarano, Anna caused another to shine on her clearly confused brother Will. Each looked spectacularly like a deer in the proverbial headlights. Next, she caused the e-mail that contained the salacious photo of Mr. Sarano to be replaced by a hastily typed slide she had just made that contained one of her arrogant mother's quotes from earlier in the evening.

* * *

" . . . let me just say that those who feel they're above the law . . . who think they needn't play by the rules . . . who believe that access is a function of money or contacts rather than plain old hard work . . . will always have that facade ripped away and be shown for who they truly are . . . cheaters and cowards."

* * *

The nearly giddy crowd - most of whom had no idea that the woman controlling the "entertainment" for the evening was Danielle Parnell's daughter - laughed even harder at the obvious discomfort the most recent slide was causing Danielle. Danielle in the meantime, her normal cool evaporating by the second, took verbal aim at person she now knew must be responsible for her current situation.

"Anna Parnell," she boomed, "you stop this right now young lady or so God as my witness you will be grounded for life."

Smiling to herself at the extreme embarrassment befalling her usually sanctimonious mother and cocksure brother, Anna answered Danielle's command by again playing her own voice back to her - this time from earlier in the night.

"So -," came the recorded voice of Danielle Parnell from the loudspeakers which Anna had turned up so as to get everyone's attention, "we're just about to the point in the evening that you've all been waiting for - the big unveiling."

In all the recent commotion, Emily Duncan had made her way to the side of the dais to where Mrs. Nicole Silver was having the best moment of an otherwise horrible day.

"I can't say I condone what you did Nicole," Emily began, "because I don't. But I don't approve of how she treated you in court today . . . it was outrageous and it was wrong. And while my apology may be somewhat cold comfort to you, I think I can offer you something else that will provide at least a bit of genuine solace."

Although Anna had no idea what Mrs. Duncan and Mrs. Silver were discussing, she could tell from the backstage camera to which she had access that the two women were in the process surreptitiously of slipping the weighted hooks of the large purple curtain that was to be lifted to unveil the team's new boat into the long chiffon train of her mother's elegant gown. Her mother hadn't played by the rules, she thought to herself - it was time to rip away her facade to show her for who she truly was.

Cueing up the music from 2001: A Space Odyssey, Anna Parnell began to expand the narrow spotlights she had focused individually on her mother, brother and Mr. Jerry so that, within a few seconds, a much bigger spotlight captured the three of them, standing side by side mortified, and directly in front of the big purple curtain.

[luvs2spin78]

Great stories Chasmo... I just stumbled across these few you wrote years ago, and really enjoyed reading them... very appropriate as you suggested in one of your earlier stories how the haughty, b*tchy protagonist gets her come-uppance in front of the whole neighborhood via a very public spanking on her BARE bottom (I know your story had it over a thonged bottom with her cheeks hanging out, but bare bare BARE is still the best way to go... no modesty allowed for these naughty stuck-up women)

this is one aspect of how Felicity Huffman should be punished...

https://forum.oneclickchicks.com/sho...d.php?t=227659

[Chasmo]

Thanks luvs2spin78! I had read your Felicity Huffman story and really enjoyed it. For me there is nothing better than a haughty show-off getting her comeuppance through a well deserved public stripping. Knowing the real Danielle as well as I do - and seeing her almost every day give people (especially women) reason to cheer for her undoing - helps fuel the fire for these stories. Although I obviously share them anonymously here I’ve also shared a handful of them privately with women who know (and detest) the real Danielle and without fail they love to see her brought down a few pegs.

I’m hoping to finish my current story today or tomorrow. The Jerry angle got a bit crazier than I planned and the main story is a bit disjointed and perhaps too heavy on background but hopefully folks are enjoying it nonetheless.