"Agreed."
With their first possession, Green Bay does march down the field, burns a lot of time off the clock, and scores 6 points. Mindy whoops with delight, twisting and flopping about like a landed flounder.
Then the kicker shanks the extra point. Her endless stream of obscenities and profanities offends my sensibilities so deeply that there's nothing left to do but cleave gag her with a long yellow scarf. She takes some consolation in the fact that it accessorizes with her lifted jersey.
Almost too soon (for me that is) the game comes to an end. I reluctantly untie her ankles, then her knees. I stop there, and send her to get me a beer from our refrigerator upstairs. She glares at me, gagged with arms bound behind her and tits on display. But she obediently mounts the stairs, fumbles a bit in the kitchen, then returns with the bottle, having to turn backwards to present it to me. I take the bottle in one hand, then slap her ass with my other open palm, chastising her for taking too long.
I undo the final knots, pull away the ropes, and remove the wet gag. She drinks greedily from my open beer.
"Now, there was something about a slutty outfit?" I say. She blushes prettily. "May I also request some impossibly high heels?"
"You may," she responds coyly, "if I may have a request of my own?" She runs to the bondage drawer and returns with an object. "Can you use this new red ball gag? When you use the white one, my mouth is stretched so impossibly wide, my jaw hurts for a day or more."
"I can go along with that. Now go change, this New York game is starting."
She's upstairs the best part of 20 minutes and I'm wondering what's taking her so long. After a time I hear the tentative clop-clop of high heels on the kitchen floor and then on our stairs. As she comes down the stairs into view, I wolf-whistle appreciatively. I am a lucky man!
Four-inch spiky black pumps. Nylon encased calves, knees, and thighs, ending in wide black bands at the top of her thighs. Tight black panties, allowing just a hint of her ass curves to jut out at the sides. Black push up corset, displaying full cleavage.
She's wearing a lot of slutty make-up, but perhaps best of all, she's wearing a longer wig. Mindy has a short pixish haircut, which looks great on her. But at times I wish she had long luxurious hair. And now she does. It's a long brown wig, with the strands of hair just brushing her shoulders. In fact, in a certain light and angle, with the make-up and long hair, she looks a lot like a certain savvy host of a home improvement show. No flannel shirts for my babe, though.
As the first quarter elapses, I tie my bride's wrists behind her, around the pole in our basement. Then I bind her elbows almost together around the same pole. I tie the ankles, then the thighs, finishing each tie around the pole. She has a bit of room to strain, paw the carpet with her high heels, and shift in her bonds, but she's not going anywhere.
I stroke her face, the long hair against my fingers and her cheek as I kiss her passionately. Then it's gag time. She accommodates me by squealing unintelligibly as I buckle it in place.
With more rope, I bind her upper chest, and rib cage to the pole, neatly framing her heavy breasts. Then I step back to admire my work. She tries to smile around the heavy ball in her mouth, her eyes dance and flirt with me as she twists in her bondage, showing off all her assets as she tries pointlessly to escape.
So I settle on the couch, my thick dick pulsing, one hand around a beer bottle, the other holding the remote, watching my ball game, and looking over very often at my horny beautiful captive, roped to the pole, straining for release.
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