TFA: Phasma overpowers you.

"Born ready, 2187." Phasma intones, steely resolve evident in her almost robotic tone.

Flexing her toned, strong arms, Phasma finally manages to escape her bonds. Freed, the chrome trooper moves forward, denying you the once-tantalising prospect of cumming inside her.

Turning on the spot, Phasma faces you, draws back her arm, and sends a right hook your way.

White spots pop in your eyes, and not for the reason you'd wanted. You crumple onto your back. It feels like you've been run over by a Star Destroyer.

"Ugh..." You groan, making to clutch your head. As she snatches something from your belt, then rises to her full height, you're **** to admit one thing.

Captain Phasma is capable of intimidating you almost entirely naked. Supremely capable. As she activates Luke's ancient lightsaber, and holds the point of the blade centimeters from your throat, you despair at your cruel and sudden reversal of fortune.

"I knew you'd slip up sooner or later, "Finn"." Phasma taunts, moving the burning blue blade ever closer to your skin.

"Now, what to do with such a faulty soldier?" She muses.