La Diabla overpowers you.

You do your level best to resist La Diabla’s powerful headscissors, and don’t let up the pressure on her throat one bit. But she’s starting to get the better of you, and she knows it. Her thighs are inescapable, slowly constricting around your head, sapping your resistance bit by bit.

“Tap,” she demands through gritted teeth, unable to spare the breath for anything more than monosyllables.

“Go...to...hell,” you **** out, trying to defy her even as the battle swings in her favor.

“What, again?” she snarks, forcing the words through your chokehold, and some detached part of your mind has to admit that you walked right into that one.

You struggle valiantly to escape, or at least outlast Angelica’s expertly applied submission hold, to no avail. You’re hardly a weakling yourself, and she’s clearly feeling the pain as you tighten your headlock, but La Diabla is simply too strong for you. She’s crushing the fight out of you, and you can’t hold on for much longer.

You desperately try to hold on for a few more seconds, sure that she’ll be tapping any moment now. But just as she seems to be flagging, she sets her jaw and draws up some hidden reserve of strength, squeezing you even harder than before.

It’s too much. You can’t take it anymore—she’s broken your will to resist. The bitter taste of defeat fills your mouth as you tap out on her flexing glutes.

The crowd erupts with enthusiasm for your hard-fought battle and La Diabla’s success, nearly drowning out the sound of the point buzzer as she lets you go free.

“And John taps out!” the announcer yells as you lay on the ground, gasping for air. “La Diabla turns the tables in spectacular fashion with an incredible reverse headscissors. John has his work cut out for him if he wants to come back from this.”

You struggle to stand up, forcing yourself to ignore the lingering aches and pains and regain your footing. You almost fall down again a couple of times, but eventually you’re able to stand once more. La Diabla, seeing the frustration and shame etched onto your features, decides not to taunt you any further, only nodding respectfully in acknowledgment of your efforts.

You’ve lost a point for a submission.