She gives you a way out, sort of.

The Cowgirl looks thoughtful for a moment as she examines you, but before too long she perks up as an idea springs to her mind.

“Ya know what, John?” she begins. “I think I’m startin’ to like you. You’ve given me quite the workout—even if it was as a punchin’ bag.” She giggles a little, but gets back to business. “So I’ll tell ya what. I’m a fair woman, so I’ll let ya have a sportin’ chance. If you can get up after that ass-whoopin’ I just handed ya, you get to walk away from this round scot-free. I’ll even give ya some time to get your mojo back, because honestly, throwin’ around a rag doll gets dull pretty fast. But”—she points a dramatic finger at you—“only if you can stand up on your own. No help, no hand up, no grabbin’ the ropes. You gotta make it back to your own two feet. If not...” A devilish grin spreads across her face. “Well, it’s been an awful long time since a man was kind enough to give me some service down below, if you catch my meaning. And your face looks like a mighty fine seat right about now.”

Stand up after the toughest beating you’ve received in your entire career at the ECL, or let the Cowgirl sit on your face and **** you to eat out her pussy. Simple to understand. Not so simple to pull off.