Beg for mercy while you still can.

You decide to cut your losses and beg Smotherella for mercy before it's too late.

"I submit!" You shout. "Please... have mercy! Please!"

She ignores your pleas for mercy and continues to crush your weak body. You're afraid at this point that she might snap you in half. Without further recourse, all you can really do is keeping begging and hope for the worst. Smotherella's got you good.

When your arms fall limp at your side and you're breathing slow, labored breaths, she finally releases you from her vicelike grip and lets you tumble into the dirt, panting like a dog. She easily tips you over onto your back with one foot and places it on your chest, a clear symbol of victory of you. The crowd starts to cheer her name as she strikes a victory pose - both arms raised in the air and flexed to show off her physical superiority - over your broken body.

After basking in the glory of her victory, she turns around and bends over, her hands on her knees like she's talking to a child. "Whew, that was fun! Thanks for the attempt, but... next time, try to give a girl a workout, will ya?"

She reaches out and covers the lower half of your face with her tiny, well-manicured hands, cutting off all circulation from your mouth and nose at once. You don't resist at this point; you're simply too exhausted from being crushed by Smotherella's thighs.

"Well actually, for you, there won't be a next time. You're clearly not cut out to be a gladiatrix. You're just not cut out to be a warrior, sweetie. You just don't have the fighting spirit. Yes, I think you'll be much more suited to being my slave...."

You can hear the sound of her nasally laugh as everything goes black. The last thing you see before being knocked out is her smug face.