She had you cornered. There was no escape and no turning back, no matter how hard you tried to resist. All you had to do was submit.

In the end... you had no other choice left but to succumb to the inevitable.

...

With a deviously clever, cheeky smirk, Specialist Traynor moved her queen up a square.

"Checkmate. Four-nil."

God, this woman was killing you here.

"Good game, {{user}}. Hope I didn't crush your spirit too bad this time around."