Yes. She locks in one of her signature moves.

You taste your mat bitterly until you feel the Cowgirl’s entire weight suddenly press down on your back.

Unable to move, much less fight back with your head still swimming in a sea of grogginess, you can only wince weakly as she picks both of your arms up and places them against her thighs.

Then, came her forearms towards your drooping chin.

Her fingers lace together underneath your chin, with her now cupped hand positioned firmly against your jawline.

Dinah’s blonde locks brush gently against your cheeks while her noticeably less gentle hands brace against your chin.

Leaning in closer, she whispers into your ear, “Giddyup, cowboy.”

And with that, she suddenly leans back on her sitting position with your chin in her grip.

Performing a camel clutch, Dinah grins through the strain as she forcefully bends your back against her chest.

“Talk about a blast from the past, ladies and gentleman. Right now, John’s experiencing firsthand what it’s like to be one of the Cowgirl’s most devestating manuevers: the Hoedown,” the announcer reveals dramatically.

A searing pain instantly shoots up your spine as she further cinches in the Hoedown, arching her back in the process of contorting yours.

Words could not accurately describe the explosion of painful sensations traveling up and down your back as she continues the mounted ****.

Thanks to her hands clamped around your chin, just opening your mouth to scream out is a chore in difficulty.

Within seconds, the pain blossoming all over your vertebrae becomes too much to endure while still being conscious.

Something has to give: your dignity or your body.

And for the sake of self-preservation, you have to bite the bullet.

Swallowing said dignity, you weakly whisper out, “Uncle."

Grinning at this, the Cowgirl relinquishes the Hoedown as you practically faceplant back to the mat.

Feeling the stinging aftereffects, you start to crawl forward as she wipes at her sweaty forehead.

Standing up, Dinah dramatically dusts her hands clean before walking in front of your stirring form.

You’re almost too embarrassed to glower up at her triumphant leer as she towers above you expectantly.

Cocking one hip to the side, the Cowgirl sneers down at you, “Well, what ya waiting for? Be a good boy and give mamma some lovin.’”

You've lost a point for submission.