The Lady is a Champ Ch. 02

Yeah we did lay it on a bit thick with her but I've never had the slightest respect for turncoats and traitors. Besides this was child's play compared to what the Commissioner, or Congress would have done to her if this had been 'official'.

Under our constant direct supervision, Marcia was going to contact Margot again, as if she were still her spy, and report that we'd had a bit of a panic after our big loss and that we were in the process of changing up our playbook. However, our on-field communication frequencies were going to remain the same for our later rematch game. Would Margot like a copy of the new playbook as soon as she could lay her hands on one, in return for another ten thousand dollar payment?

Our recording of the conversation clearly and distinctly showed Margot saying "Absolutely!" Our double-agent assured her that we had made no other changes to our security and we had just assumed that the Coyotes knew our playbook a little too well due to our rivalry experience. We were scheduled to play the Coyotes again late next month and already Margot was full of confidence that she could pull off the same trick again, even easier this time in the comfort and security of her own stadium.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. This time we were going to be ready for her and the paybacks were going to be a bitch!

*********

"Double or nothing?" Margot offered me, when she called me a few days later to make me another bet. A week as her personal unconditional slave? Sure, I'd take that bet… but only if she would do the same in return. Unconditional surrender, I believe was the phrase she then used and I couldn't have put it any better myself.

"Done deal! Slave for a week. Nothing blatantly illegal or dangerous to life or limb, otherwise it's all on. You are so going to be my bitch!" Yep, I was a tad excited, but I was going to nail her frozen Cajun tits and ass to the wall! Besides, even with 'illegal or dangerous' removed, that still left 'immoral', not to mention fattening left over.

First things first. Now that we had her spy under control, it was time for planning how to start spreading some misinformation… nice and thick.

*******

The rematch between the Toro's and Coyotes in San Antonio, if anything, was an even bigger lopsided scoring game than our previous encounter. It was a brutal vicious clobbering as we deliberately left in all of our best players for the entire game and firmly told them to run up the score as much as possible. We didn't need to tell our players a thing about how we wanted revenge – their pride had been hurt as well by our earlier terrible loss and they were more than motivated to kick some Coyote butt. The final result was a resounding Toro's victory to the tune of 56-6. The Commissioner even attended, watched the game from the San Antonio owner's box where Lloyd Ross and Margot were increasingly appalled by our atrocious stomping of their team.

It was far too pathetically easy. We had contacted the exact same PI firm that Margot had used, and with the help of our cortège of lawyers, convinced them to turn tables against their own team… the alternative being jail and forfeiture of their PI's license. They didn't like the meeting with our lawyers any better than Marcia had. They had already been contacted by Margot and had been prepared to run the exact same communications interception, the same as our last game. This time, they would be working for us feeding misinformation instead.

Naturally we changed our real play calling radio frequencies right before game time, but we left the old frequencies open for use by our misdirection crew. When we (using our secure line) called for a pass play, we used the old frequency to appear to call for a running play from the 'new revised playbook'. They never caught on that we knew that they were listening in and sabotaging them. Once we'd run up a good lead in the score we'd let them 'win' a play or two, bringing back their confidence a little so that we could then burn them bad with another long unexpected pass play a little while later.

Right after the game, now that we had obtained our 'revenge', the Commissioner went into a long private meeting with Lloyd Ross, after which it was announced the next day that his grand-daughter Marguerit "Margot" Millet, was taking a leave of absence from the daily operations of the Coyotes to do some traveling and perhaps attend graduate school in the spring. Undoubtedly with a heavy course load of ethics classes.

Allegedly, the Coyote's head coach and his two top coordinators both figured out the next day what had happened and both submitted their resignations, but not before they fired the handful of assistant coaches and staff that had been in on the cheat. The Commissioner called them up to New York for a very private meeting after which the resignations were temporarily withdrawn (until after the season was over). Everyone wanted to keep things as 'business as usual' until the whole ugly mess had some time to start to be forgotten. I didn't blame the head coach or his coordinators for wanting out, fast. No one blamed them at all for the illegal tactics, but they didn't want to get their good names tarred by the scandal. The coaching assistants and coordinators had been aware and involved with the signal stealing plot, were also invited to an unfriendly league meeting after which they were fired a second time and bluntly told that they all no longer had any future with any team in professional football. As the word slowly crept out among the football grapevine, most of these fellows now found that they were unwelcome back in college football coaching there as well.

Inevitably, rumors began to sweep the league that some 'undisclosed' team had been stealing signals and that if it ever happened again, anywhere, under any circumstances, the ownership would be stripped from the team and all of the coaching staff would be fired and placed on a 'death penalty' prohibition from ever working in the league again. Privately I was told 'well done', but to never ever do anything like this ever again.

Fortunately for everyone, the rumors remained rumors… albeit well founded ones. The scandal never made the newspapers or ESPN and we all took a long deep breath of relief.

*******

As for the season, we had our first winning record and made the playoffs only to lose in the second round facing a team that was used to playing in sub-zero temperatures in a slurry of ice and snow. We weren't, unfortunately. That's ok, it was a start. In the words of Saint "Bum" Phillips, "This year we knocked on the door but next year we're going to kick the sum'bitch in!"

Oh yeah, I got a nice contract extension and an absurdly fat end of season bonus, not to mention the added bonus that the Commissioner agreed to pay all of my expenses, outrageous or not, for my fun-filled week with Margot!

********

Now that the season was over and the winter league meetings were done, it was about time to take a little early spring vacation and clear up my little debt of bondage with Margot.

It took me awhile to get a hold of her and I soon became pretty sure that she was ignoring the messages I had left with the front office and eventually her father. Finally she called me back and in a very sullen conversation she danced the hardest she could to get me to 'forgive' her bet. No dice. I thought at first that she would completely refuse to honor her bet, but after a little reflection she gave me a deep sigh and asked me when and where I wanted her to be.

"Five minutes ago, in my office in Houston, with your week beginning the moment you walk submissively into my office wearing a short skirt with at least five inch high heels and then kneel at my feet in supplication."

"When pigs fly!" She snarled and slammed the phone down on me.

I didn't bother to call her back; she'd reconsider and submit to me all on her own. I had more than an inkling that both the Commissioner and her father were not at all happy with her and that our little side bet was very much a part of her penance, assuming she wanted to ever be allowed to return to football in any capacity other than a roving stadium vendor hawking popcorn, drinks and hot dogs. She was going to have to put up and shut up… and no one cared in the slightest if she liked it or not.

I could hardly wait.

**********

Three weeks later, on a Tuesday evening a rather subdued Margot presented herself to me in my office and down upon her knees. I'm entirely certain that she was muttering an entire wealth of obscenities under her breath. I pretended to barely notice her and left her in silence quite long enough for her to get a good look at my Executive of the Year trophy that I had received from the Commissioner at the winter meetings. I was hoping that would sink the spur in a little bit. Dinner with a spirited woman is so much more enjoyable than with a sullen one.

"Your appearance is marginal but adequate for this evening. In the future I will expect your heels to be at least another inch longer and your skirts another two inches shorter. You have good legs and ought to show them off more often. I will also expect to see much more cleavage, or at least undo another two buttons so that I can tell what brand and color your bra is and exactly how much lace or padding it contains. A good slave should have no secrets from her Master. You're also a little late, but we can still make dinner. You were promised a pizza quite some time ago, and better late than never!"

Her pizza in fact was quite good, in a superb Mediterranean style. I was going to join her in sharing a larger one but at the last moment I couldn't resist the chief's seafood special. A plate of shrimps is the food of the Gods, second only to the hallowed sacred goodness that is bacon.

The view from the top of the hotel was fabulous. Houston doesn't have many eye-dropping views of international style and culture, but in the opinion of the immortal Bob Hope, the view south of the old fabulous former Warwick Hotel across the Mecom Fountain down the tree lined boulevard next to Rice University is one of the five best jaw dropping views in the world. Even my unwilling guest had to admit that the scenery was very special, but she remained surly all evening.

We couldn't dither all night over desserts prepared by one of the world's greatest master bakers, even when I was almost getting her into a civilized and conversational mood. We had a plane to catch. It was off to San Francisco for the next week, a city inundated with style and culture… and wonderfully appalling dives of dubious character perfectly suited for making my proud icy princess squirm in discomfort. Win-win-win, I thought as I smiled in anticipation.

The charter flight was quite fast and we made it into our hotel suite at the Fairmont just before midnight. I toyed with the idea of dragging my hapless charge right off into the bright nightlife, but in the end I decided to take pity on her for at least her first day or two. Our suite had two bedrooms, but she was instructed not to leave the suite or even call room service without my consent. Like a good little obedient slave girl she nodded in agreement. I didn't bother to mention that there was a security guard down the hall waiting in anticipation for her first jailbreak. I was pretty sure we wouldn't have to wait too long!

Hehe… her training, and my fun was just getting started.