Undressed for Success

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

"Who's the boss now baby," she cooed, "tell me, who's the boss now?"

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

As Danielle made her way back to the stage, Jerry Sarano emerged from the men's room wearing the new three piece suit that he had purchased just for the finale. Despite Danielle's idiotic assistant delivering it to him an hour later than planned, he loved how good it looked on him and knew the women in the audience would appreciate it as well. Seeing Danielle approaching, the two walked back through the curtain onto the stage together. Jerry took his seat next to Anna, ogling the 18-year-old stunner who was even more striking than her mother, while Danielle once again strutted down the runway. With a little bit more of a sway in her hips than usual, the glorious lawyer looked like a goddess - and she and the men whose eyes were glued to her loved every second of her march.

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

Linda was crestfallen, "I don't know, I weakened the seams - all of them. I thought... well... I guess it didn't work."

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

"I'm sorry, Ms. Bertrand... Mrs. Manley... is there a problem," she scolded them, "do you have something more important to do this evening than focus on our children?"

"And speaking about children, Anna...," the comely counselor continued, this time directing her ire toward her daughter who was not sufficiently enrapt for her preening mother's satisfaction, "do you have someplace else to be?!?"

Uncomfortable laughter was spreading through the crowd. For the men looking on, the image of the sexy, sophisticated, and domineering Mrs. Parnell shaming her two colleagues and gorgeous daughter was intoxicating. The women in the crowd on the other hand, many who had suffered Danielle's withering reproaches, sympathized with Linda, Karen, and Anna. They knew something needed to be done but were too terrified to act.

"Well - do you," Danielle loudly implored. The three humiliated women sat silently - looking more like chastised children than adult professionals. "I didn't think so," finished Danielle.

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

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

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

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

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

"Who's the boss now baby," the woman on film cooed wantonly at her reflection, "tell me, who's the boss now?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's it you little pipsqueak," bellowed Lauren, "it's time somewhat taught you a lesson."

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

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

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

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

"Spank that tease's ass," shouted Karen Manley.

"Strip her first," screamed Lauren Butcher.

Bending her head down toward her former boss' ear Linda whispered "should I strip you first Mrs. Parnell?"

"No - please don't" croaked the defeated Danielle.

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

"Anything you want," pleaded the humiliated attorney.

"Who's the boss now," asked Linda quietly as she began to spank Mrs. Parnell's firm ass.

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

"Wrong answer," yelled Linda, who then unceremoniously unclipped Danielle's bra and threw it into the crowd.

"Who's the boss now," Linda repeated, spanking Danielle's bottom more forcefully.

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

"I can't hear you," shouted Linda, now raining swats down on her former tormenters reddening bottom.

"You're the boss Linda," screamed Danielle.

"You're the boss who," came Linda Bertrand's reply.

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

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

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

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

"You what Danni girl," asked Linda sweetly.

"I quit, ma'am" whispered Danielle.

With that, and to the cheers of the lawyers, staff and families of SmythKnight, and to the delight of Danielle's daughter Anna, Linda Bertrand rolled the once all-powerful Mrs. Parnell to the floor and, tearing the pin striped thong from her now swollen but still fantastic ass, sent the naked prima donna literally running for cover.