Sweet torture; that's really the only way I could've described it. In all the time I spent with my Mistress, most of it was in-service to Her, under her power. There were times though where we could just talk about other things in our personal lives, things I was happy to have Mistress actually care about. I'd never expected her to be any kind of sports fan; but was pleasantly surprised when she told me she was a football fan. I'm certainly not saying women can't be sports fans like some stereotypes suggest, but seriously, how many beautiful women do you meet end up being interested in sports? (Lucky bastards who can say 'a lot’ please don't gloat). Anyway the Eagles, my hometown team, were in-town to play the 49ers this week, and I bet my Mistress could sense my excitement when she suggested we watch it together. My company rented out several floors of a newly-built apartment building, and all the employees were from Philly, so it became our own Eagles stronghold in rival territory.

Of course, my excitement deflated once I saw Her arrive in a 49er's jersey. She wore it with pride and playfully tugged at my Eagles jersey, as if showing all the Eagles fans we passed who was really in-charge. I winced at the "dating-the-enemy" comments, mainly because I was thinking how She conveniently left that part of Herself secret until now.

Once inside my apartment, I wanted to ask why She chosen to keep Her favorite team confidential, and why she led me around by my shirt like that, but we both knew the answer.

"You know my Subject, normally I would scold you for wearing such displeasing colors," she said matter-of-factly, brushing a finger down across my chest. "But since my team is a shoe-in for victory, watching your reaction to your team being knocked down a peg seems like fitting punishment." 49ers fans weren't normally arrogant like Mistress sounded, but had anyone else said that I would've reminded them how much we improved from last year, and how no analyst thought SF and a snowball's chance in hell of winning. Of course, this wasn't just anyone, so I was reduced to neutrality. "I expect it's anybody's game today."

I've told her before that I'd been an Eagles fan all my life, so knowing who she preferred now, I visibly cringed when she asked what I hope she'd never ask that day. "I don't suppose there's any way your Mistress can make you a fan of my team, can She?"

Of all the unfair questions...the ball was in my court, but I stayed silent. I couldn't even manage a playfully stern look like I wanted to give Her. She held my cheek and told me not to worry. "I'm not looking for a verbal response today..."

she said, bringing our faces together so we looked into each other’s eyes, Hers taking wit and other thoughts away from mine. Her words remain a verbal blur for a few seconds, and then came back into clarity. "And that's what I think, how about you?"

"Um...am I allowed to think?"

"Excellent question sweetie. You are. For now."

The game whistle blowing got our attention and we sat down together. For the first time, I'd hoped she would've kept her hypno-games to a minimum, but since I doubt she could seriously affect the players playing, I was curious as to what she did to me.

The Eagles kicked the ball to the 9ers, and it was underway. Jackson, a rookie runner new to SF with lots of potential, quickly showed why he was such a good draft pick by getting halfway across the field, avoiding some of Philly's speediest guys. I could hear a lot of screaming "no's" from my neighbors. I would've no'd too, but was shocked to end it with a pleasurable moaning "ooh".
Arousal. Arousal at my opponent's advancing. She asked if I was alright; I shook my head up and down, hoping this was just some stray "being near Her" reaction. When the next play got Jackson a 1/4 of the way closer to a touchdown, and I started to harden, I turned in Her direction, looking accusingly at a smile She was having trouble hiding. She finally turned in my direction trying to stare at me hard. Her eyes were still penetrating, but I only felt myself softening a little against this surprise.

"Why?"

"Because I can," was Her answer. A simple enough answer that actually stimulated my growing problem all the more.

"Where's a ref to call 'foul' when you need him?" I ask half-jokingly.

"What makes you think he wouldn't be seeing things my way too? And anyway, I'm your ref. I think I should determine what's fair and what's foul. In fact, I'd bet you'd look really cute subconsciously responding to a whistle blowing. Just imagine the vibrations..."

I had to focus back on the game, or else those eyes would've had me shaking all over from her suggestion. I turned just in time to watch the SF QB throw a good pass to a receiver already at the goal. Suddenly my arousal spiked and I was left at a high, just short of release. It felt so good, my "oooh"s drowning out my neighbors "No!"s in my head.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

Never having associated football with anything arousal related before, I was certainly confused, until I remembered that it was mainly coming from my obeying Her commands. I uttered a small yes, hoping She'd be ok with it.

Rubbing her hand over my chest felt good, yet muted somehow. On a whim, I took off my jersey and the bliss was there in-full as she grazed my chest again.

"There's a good subject" I heard.

With the Eagles on the offensive, I noticed that my arousal slowly, but not completely went away the closer they got to scoring. I looked at her again, wide-eyed. She didn't even bother looking my way and suggested seeing how the rest of the game went.

I couldn't say anything more, just wonder how easily my lifetime allegiance could be so affected.

Eagles took the next two touchdowns, and my arousal stayed in a very, very light state, still there, as if waiting for the right conditions for more stimulation. It received it in the 2nd quarter before half time as the 9ers made an amazing interception that made me sink to the floor in blissful "agony".

Half-time was great for both of us as Mistress had me hold Her and tell Her how much I loved serving Her during the commercial break. I threw in a few kisses to Her neck, to see if I could persuade Her into letting me release sooner. She enjoyed herself as much as I did, so much so that I'd almost entirely forgotten about the game. May have worked if the commercials lasted longer.

From this point, I tried to will myself back to silently being on the side of the Eagles again. The pull of those sensations of the 9ers winning was strong, but I hoped my team wouldn't let me down and that I could survive with a nice buzz and maybe have to deal with a disappointed mistress.

That would've been nice if that had happened. However one toppled Eagles QB later, the 9ers offense got really aggressive. Mistress watched with glee, even getting more hands-on with me. Just her arm around my neck and her hand on my thigh was starting to drive me crazy. 3rd and 4th quarter both teams were tied, looking for probably that last score. I was proud of my Eagles, even with their pivotal QB in need of recovery. But I didn't lie to myself as I knew with Jackson; it was only a matter of time.

Sure enough, a terrible Eagles fumble where Jackson just happened to be nearby, and he was off running. Mistress was screaming and clutching at me "Go! Go! Go!" My neighbors were yelling combined "Stop him!" "No!" Instead of my moaning, I was chanting "Go!" right along with her. Neighbors were banging against my wall as She was the loudest of us all. As if on cue to Jackson's running, Her hand moved to my crotch as she chanted "He-could-go-all-the-way!" Neighbors chanted in curses, and I screamed orgasmically the moment I heard "all-the-way!" Mistress was gracious enough to quickly cover my scream with a kiss as I came in my pants. The kiss lasted as long as my release did, and I could feel the smirk of her kiss as our lips pressed against each other.

Next thing I know, my head is in Her lap, an uncontrollable smile on her face, directing it all at me.

"Why Subject, have I made a 9ers fan out of you?"

Not having the heart to tell her no, not even able to tell myself no, a faint "yay Jackson" was all I said.

She chuckled as She got me up off the couch and took me into my bathroom to clean me up. Once I had my jersey back on, and a new pair of sweats, I came back into the living room and saw Mistress talking to someone on her cell.

When the call was over, I started worrying again as another wicked smile crossed her face.

"Maybe we should pay a visit to Ms. Skeptic; being we're fans of the same team, I know she'd love seeing an opposing fan on his knees and converted. The more proof the merrier."

She holds the stare for as long as she can before breaking into laughter. "Aw, come on Subject. I'm not that cruel. But then again, I might know of a good sports bar to visit later. I know they'd all be surprised to see an Eagles fan praising the 49ers; this supportive side of you is so sexy. And we're definitely watching Sports Center tonight; what a wonderful quickie that should be."

I was the one laughing when She was done talking; all of that sounded too good to be true. Mistresses who love the same sports as their Subjects are so awesome.