Gently in her hold you squirm.
Your legs slowly stretching out. And then with what little strength you have left, dig in with the heels of your boots. They and you seeking any purchase they can find.
The only hand you can spare, you place softly on the flesh of your rival’s arm or thigh. Telling her you are no threat. Hoping that at the message she releases you, so that she may find some new way to torment and torture. At least then you might have a chance. An opening to breathe freely once more.
And though such is your hope, your mad dream of freedom.
She holds you tightly. Securely. Listening to your every gasp and every whimper.
Waiting for you to pass out. Waiting for the moment when your defeat, and her victory is complete.