Overexposed

Shifting her stare to the women seated beside her, the domineering diva scornfully continued, "although decorum and our tax dollars tell us that we should be able to rely upon our community's teachers, parents, PTA leaders and law enforcement professionals to put a stop to this tawdry behavior, experience has sadly shown us otherwise."

As men and boys alike became aroused at the vituperative vixen's minimization of the other women present, Danielle continued her screed.

"Perhaps not unexpectedly, it has fallen upon a true leader - one not ashamed of what she has done - to attempt to bring some rationality and civility to our children's behavior and, what better way to do that, than by example."

Gesturing to her daughter in the back of the room -- who was secretly hoping the floor would swallow up one or both of her and her arrogant mother - Danielle entreated further, "I've asked my daughter Anna to share with you - without need by me or anyone else to cherry pick or edit images in any way - a montage of the photos and videos she keeps on her phone, any and all of which a parent would be delighted to see. Hopefully, when this brief show is complete, it will usher in a more responsible approach by all of you. Anna - if you will."

As Danielle took her seat and the lights in the room were dimmed, Anna Parnell endeavored to begin the slide show. In the darkness, however, she seemed unable to properly enter her passcode which, to the delight of many of the women in the audience, caused her mother the embarrassment of having to retreat to the back of the room and use her thumb to unlock her daughter's phone.

At last, as Danielle rejoined the other women up front, the show began. One by one, photos of George Bailey trotting, George Bailey galloping, Anna's friends at camp and at band practice and Anna and her friends at a birthday party began to flash across the screen causing Anna's friends to giggle and the poor girl to suffer yet another humiliation brought on by her domineering mother. What surprised

Anna most though was just how few of the pictures she recalled taking.

As the last still shot faded away, the first video began. In it, with a bright blue sky as background, appeared the very fancy stables where the Parnell family boarded Anna's horse and where the young teen did most of her riding. But rather than staying focused on the trusty old steed emerging from one of the paddocks, the video instead captured and followed a strapping young man, tan and shirtless wearing naught by jeans, cowboy boots and a cowboy hat, hauling a bale of hay from the stables to a waiting pick-up truck - it was Timmy Bradley.

As the gaggle of Anna's friends, boys and girls alike, began to tease her in the darkness with the likes of, "ooooh Anna," and "Anna loves Tim," and the mothers and female teachers in the crowd, who to a one despised Danielle, exchanged comments such as, "not so appropriate after all," and "I guess she doesn't have as much control at home as she thinks," Anna Parnell stared dumbfounded for she had neither seen before nor taken the video on the screen. One of her friends, she angrily surmised, must have grabbed her phone as a joke.

But before she could consider who did it, the silence in the room was broken by an unseen but not completely discernable voice - clearly that of the videographer - saying, "mmmmm... mmmmm... mmmmm... don't you look yummy little Timmy."

"Oh my God Anna," one of her friends screamed from the darkness, "you're such a perv!"

"It's not me," Anna shouted, "I didn't take that video... I don't even remember taking those pictures."

But no one in the room believed her. No one, that is, except her mother; because no sooner had the video appeared on the screen than had Danielle realized that she had inadvertently given Anna her phone. The lovely lawyer also realized that she needed to stop this show before that secret - and a much bigger one yet to be revealed - was out. If doing that meant humiliating her daughter in public then so be it.

"Anna Parnell," Mrs. Parnell boomed as if in court thereby restoring silence again to the room, "shame on you young lady..."

* * *

"... here I am trying to show you to be a paradigm of virtue and propriety -- like me -- and it turns out you're no better than these other shameless children. Now you turn that phone off this instant -- we're going home and you're going to get exactly what's coming to you."

"But mom, I didn't do it, I swear," Anna protested as the likes of Jess Bradley, Linda Bertrand and Rachel Miras took no small amount of glee in the embarrassment that the girl's genuinely harmless behavior had brought upon her arrogant tease of a mother.

"I said turn off the phone right now missy," Danielle stormed again now joined in chorus by her son Will who had come into the room part way through the meeting at his mother's request.

"You heard mom Anna," the cocky young athlete smirked at his sister as her friends practically swooned at his presence, "turn it off you perv."

But before the defeated Anna Parnell put her finger on the off switch, a new still image appeared on the screen -- one that exonerated one of the Parnell women present and began the downfall of the other. For as all jaws dropped, men's trousers stretched to the breaking point and smiles grew on the faces of every woman present save one, a very different and far less appropriate Danielle Parnell gazed out at the crowd from the large screen in front of the classroom.

Holding her rose colored iPhone in her bejeweled right hand, the onscreen Mrs. Parnell stood facing a full length mirror in what was a most opulent home dressing room wearing the same Louboutin Alti spike platform heels that her in personam twin had on but otherwise sporting only a tiny black, translucent, lace thong through which one could make out a very sexy landing strip, a matching push-up bra and, around her very supple neck, a 14-carat gold choker from which hung a diamond encrusted "D." Better yet, the sexy suburbanite's lips were pursed as if she was blowing her naughty reflection a kiss.

After a moment during which one could have heard a pin drop -- which seemed to Danielle and her gob-smacked children to be an eternity -- the gathered crowd broke spontaneously into a chorus of hoots, hollers and, especially amongst the women present, gut busting laughter.

"Mom," cried out the shocked Will Parnell as he sought to cover up the growing bulge in his gym shorts, "what on earth are you doing?"

But unlike her brother who stood catatonically staring at the image of their scandalously dressed mother, Anna Parnell, who now realized that Danielle had knowingly let her suffer the humiliation of the last few minutes, decide to return the favor.

"Anna Parnell you turn that phone off instantly do you hear me," roared Danielle as she rose from her chair with far less moral authority than she had commanded just moments before.

And then, realizing that she needed to try to change the narrative, the ordinarily hyper-confident beauty weakly croaked, "that... that's not me up there..." But the crowd's laughter only grew louder at her pathetic protest.

"Someone must have doctored that picture," the humiliated uber-MILF shouted as she tried to make her way past the women she had looked down upon and mocked for so long to get a hold of her phone, "turn it off you stupid girl."

But smiling devilishly at her mother from the back of the room, Anna did no such thing. Rather, with a swipe of her finger -- curious to see what other naughty secrets her mother might be hiding -- she caused the ribald still shot of her barely dressed mom to transition to a video of a topless Danielle Parnell this time wearing only an obscenely high heeled pair of tacky, fire-engine red, Jessica Simpson brand "cowgirl" boots on her perfect little feet, a sexy straw cowboy hat, from under which pigtails made an appearance, on her normally well-coiffed head, a minuscule silk red thong in the pattern of a classic bandana on her oh so fabulous bottom and an actual bandana around her pretty, tan neck.

What's more, the soon to be far-less-powerful lawyer in the video had clearly set her phone on a counter in her majestic marble bathroom to record, now for posterity, her wanton display. With both hands therefore free she held in her right one a large glass of white wine and in her left a black leather lasso. As she did a turn for herself in the mirror, practically fawning at her scandalously sexy image, the very naughty vixen, for the first time, began to speak to what was clearly an imagined audience of one.

"How'd you lie to hog-tie this little filly stud," she purred sexily, "what's the matter Timmy... don't you think you could handle the ride."

As the crowd went wild, Danielle's normally facile brain reeled from the humiliation brought on by the outrageous performance of her onscreen doppelgänger. Although she knew she'd never again be able to appear at Davidsonville Central High School she also realized she needed to end this now in order to contain the collateral damage that this could have on her up to now unblemished professional career. With that in mind the panicked parent began a beeline toward her stunned but laughing daughter to put an end to this humiliating show.

"Not so fast you little hussy," came the bellowing voice of Jess Bradley who on the one hand saw naught but red at the objectification of her barely 23-year-old son by this two-faced, judgmental Jezebel, while on the other was giddy with delight at the haughty tease's downfall.

Suddenly terrified by the ire of the law partner she had berated so many times before, and aware now that she could be professionally as well as personally compromised, Danielle -- as quickly as her towering heels would permit -- sought to escape the infuriated Mrs. Bradley by squeezing between two of the room's large lab tables. Unfortunately for the fleeing femme fatale, however, and in no small part due to the close quarters created by the large, laughing crowd in the rather small room, as Danielle shimmied by a hysterically guffawing mother and daughter already occupying the space she was seeking to traverse, she bumped into the immovable lab table causing, unbeknownst to her, the hip of her exquisitely expensive leather Lanvin pants to snag on the jagged corner of the ancient desk's metal top.

Thus, as the sexy solicitor continued her purposeful journey toward Anna and escape, her very fashionable, very sexy, very tight leather pants, gaining no release from the massive desk to which they were now attached, were peeled from her fabulous legs and ass like a banana skin leaving the soon to be further mortified mother in only her spiked stilettos, her wrap around Alexander MacQueen blouse -- that tied together a good two inches above her tan, toned waist -- and the merest wisp of a translucent hot pink micro thong that she had ordered online from a tawdry lingerie store and upon which -- across the barely there triangle of silk that covered her most private treasures -- were seven, white, silk embroidered letters, in cursive, reading "Got MILF?"

As she realized too late what had happened and as the crowd went yet wilder with screams of, "pornography... you know it when you see it," and "I guess the true leader is ashamed of what she has done," the smug look that generally graced Mrs. Parnell's beautiful face was replaced with a blank, daffy, stare.

How could this day get any more humiliating... but then it did.

* * *

Emboldened by the karmic justice being meted out upon the arrogant MILF who not more than twenty minutes earlier had humiliated him, and under cover of the ensuing commotion all around, Timothy Bradley discreetly grabbed the tail end of the knotted blouse covering Mrs. Parnell's fabulous body and gently gave it a pull.

The resultant unravelling of Danielle's very fashionable Alexander McQueen top - which at first went unnoticed by the shell-shocked diva as she tried desperately to shield her perfect thong covered ass - unveiled not only the lovely lawyer's taught and tanned midsection but also the clear fact that she had purchased a very tawdry and cheap pink bra to accompany her naughty neon panties. For as women laughed all the heartier and men got all the harder, the sexy solicitor was left from the waist up in naught but a diaphanous, neon pink, mesh, push-up bra that barely contained her incredibly pert, softball sized tits and each cup of which was emblazoned in white embroidery with the letters "TA."

In case there was any doubt as to the meaning of said letters, it was erased by the now priapic Will Parnell blurting out, "Oh my God mommy... everyone can see... your... ta-tas!"

As the students and parents howled uncontrollably around her, Anna Parnell couldn't help but smile at how much she was enjoying the very public comeuppance of her imperious know-it-all of a mother and her arrogant jerk of a brother.

That smile only broadened, however, when - reluctant to let them off the hook so soon - Anna clicked on the next video in her now nearly naked mother's fancy phone. In place of Danielle's turn as a topless, cougar, cowgirl, the appreciative audience was now treated to a very tipsy Mrs. Parnell, this time sporting a very short, black, silk robe - open in front to reveal a leopard print thong and bra - a towering pair of black platform heels and her patented diamond "D" hanging around her neck. Again with a glass of wine in her hand - this time red - the tantalizing tease appeared to be rummaging through a drawer in what was a palatial walk in closet.

"William Parnell," she spoke out loud to herself clearly annoyed, "I think someone's been stealing mommy's panties again."

And then, with a wry smile forming on her fire engine red lips as she rubbed her diamond "D" necklace in her free hand, "perhaps the dominatrix will have to give her little boy another over the knee spanking."

As the video came to a stop and Danielle's stupefied gaze locked with her son's slack-jawed stare, Anna and the rest of the crowd went into an even greater frenzy.

"Who's the perv now," the delighted teen joked as her brother appeared to begin hyperventilating.

"Not such a big stud today -- eh Parnell?" came the voice of a student who in the past Will Parnell had terrorized for years.

"Didn't you say if I was more like your son Will I'd be less of a social deviant," Tim Bradley chimed in delighted to be turning the tables on the arrogant Mrs. Parnell and her son.

Equally mortified and aroused by his mother's disrobing and clearly knocked back on his heels by the accusation leveled at him by her on-screen twin, the stunned soon-to-be former stud stuttered, "M-m-m-mom... what are you talking about... I would never... I mean... she's lying... and... I don't get spanked... anymore..."

But before he could finish his protestations or his mother could weigh in, a quick and deliberate move by Tim Bradley proved unequivocally that Danielle's suspicions were very well founded. As Will stood stupidly staring at his mortified mother, young Mr. Bradley grabbed the waist band of the buff oarsman's crimson Harvard sweatpants and, in one fell swoop, pulled them down to the stammering student's ankles. But instead of his school issued crew shorts, compression pants or even a crimson jockstrap, Will Parnell was revealed to be wearing only a black and white zebra patterned silk thong that he had stolen from his mother's drawer that very morning. Worse yet, the formerly haughty helmsman stood sporting a raging - although somewhat undersized -- hard-on brought on by both the state of his pink-pantied mother and his own secret joy at the indignity of being found out.

As mother and son were immobilized by their joint undoing, the former red-faced trying at once to cover her perfectly formed bottom and barely constrained boobs while unable to pull her eyes from her son's obvious show of excitement and the latter too aroused by the discovery of his secret shame and the pulchritude of his humiliated mother to cover himself, the Bradley women, Linda Bertrand and Sergeant Lori Heilkamp all joined the fray.

It was Principal Bradley who spoke first after she and her daughter managed to box the quivering Danielle Parnell between themselves and two of the large lab tables.

"Well, well, well Mrs. Parnell," Sheila Bradely smiled, "it looks like your reason for demanding this meeting - to protect our children from exhibitionists and voyeurs I think you said - was well founded after all. But something tells me you didn't expect to be found out to be the biggest of both - video voyeuring my grandson and exhibiting yourself - for shame."

"And it looks like the only thing overstuffed here today," Jess Bradley joined in taunting Danielle with the same phrase the little tease had so often thrown at her loving for once that she had leverage over her usually imperious law partner, "is your slutty little bra and your son's - well - panties."

Trapped between the mother and daughter Bradley, her normally facile mind reeling from her own humiliation as well as that of her once proud son, Danielle reached deep inside herself in an attempt to cow her gloating junior partner who she hoped would respond with customary fear.

"You get out of my way this instant Bradley," barked the barely dressed barrister, "or, mark my words, your days at SmythKnight are over!"

But as Mrs. Parnell, hoping to have thrown Jessica Bradley off guard with her stern rebuke, attempted to storm past the somewhat portly practitioner, it became quickly evident that ordinarily domineering Danielle had made a major miscalculation.

"Not this time Parnell," smiled a newly confident Jessica Bradley who never before had addressed Danielle by her last name and who, with her mother's help, stopped the mortified mother of three in her tracks by forcefully grabbing the smaller woman's bejeweled wrist.

"Leave me alone you fat cow," snapped the undone diva in a panic before shouting at her still stupefied son, "Will... do something you nitwit... help mommy!"

Pulled from the daze of his own demise, Will Parnell attempted to heed his mother's call without first thinking to pull up the warm-up pants now pooled at his feet. To the further delight of the room's already appreciative male population, the be-thonged teen's resulting tumble caused him - in an effort to break his fall - to grab blindly onto the skirt of Officer Lori Heilkamp who was resolutely moving toward the kerfuffle between the terrified Mrs. Parnell and the now quite assertive Jess Bradley.

As another RIIIIIIIPPPPPP!!! echoed through the packed classroom, the statuesque sergeant was parted from her form-fitting blue uniform skirt leaving her in a pair of very high, black, patent leather heels, a tight white dress-uniform blouse that stopped at the very top of her waist, a meter-maid style police cap and the briefest pair of "police blue" thong panties - with a gold badge stenciled on the translucent silk triangle in front - that were most definitely not regulation issued.

"Oh noooo... my skirt," cried Lori Heilkamp with a look of shock and terror replacing her austere gaze of officialdom as students, teachers and parents alike continued to laugh hysterically at the clothing catastrophes continuing to unfold before them.

But despite her own embarrassment and with a more than somewhat lessened aura of authority, the dis-dressed deputy grabbed Will Parnell by the scruff of his polo shirt covered neck and, depositing him on a nearby stool, whisked the young man's sweat pants clear off him before quickly climbing into them herself. And as Will Parnell - now in only his trainers, a polo shirt and his mother's thong - attempted to cover his "excitement" piqued by the site of his near naked mother, Lori Heilkamp pulled the handcuffs from the belt that had never left her slender waist and snapping one of them onto the wrist of the befuddled bozo, used her free hand to radio her partner - sitting in a patrol car in the Davidsonville Central High School parking lot - for backup.