You don’t. You just want out. You’ve decided to use the safeword.

“Hummingbird,” you mutter, and pray that Roxie comes through with her end of the bargain.

The mischievous twinkle in her eyes and the knowing smile instantly disappear, replaced with surprise and concern. “You’re done? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” you say wearily, leaning against the ropes for support.

She nods and rushes toward you, ducking around behind you to push you off the ropes. One of her arms wraps around your throat, and she pulls you down into a sleeperhold.

She’s being surprisingly gentle. You can feel her arm constricting around your neck, but she’s not **** you—just pressing down on your carotid arteries, keeping oxygen from getting to your brain. As she promised, it’s a relatively quick, painless way to knock someone out.

Your vision fades to blackness in just a few moments, and you distantly hear the ref ring the bell as consciousness leaves you...