The silence in the house is broken only by the RAGGED RHYTHM of our breathing and the DULL SOUND of STRAINING MUSCLES. I am NAKED, seemingly vulnerable, just a step away from TOTAL DEFEAT. My man is there, IMPOSING AND ARROGANT, his face etched with a MOCKING GRIN after slamming my hand onto the table again and again. He is relishing the moment, laughing at me, whispering for me to give up: "You're just a woman, I’m twice your size, just look at yourself... resign yourself, darling." POOR FOOL. He doesn't know that I love it when the GAME GETS DAMN TOUGH. I felt the exact moment his confidence began to crack, along with his resistance. His push, once BRUTE, is now uncertain, almost trembling. He hasn't noticed a thing, too focused on celebrating a victory that is about to SLIP THROUGH HIS FINGERS... While he burns through his last bit of energy, MY BICEPS HAVE BECOME HARD AS STEEL, PULSING and SWELLING right before his eyes, charged with an EXPLOSIVE POWER that has absorbed every bit of his effort. The MOMENT FOR MY REDEMPTION has arrived, and I WILL SHOW NO MERCY!
