A measure of the power, true, but not all of it. Because if he says red, she will stop, no matter what she's doing, even if she hurts herself in the process.

One booted foot presses between his legs, up against the fly of his jeans, firm and unyielding pressure, and then she leans forward until her knee is planted in the center of his chest. "Hands behind your back." And still the knife twirls. If he doesn't obey, she'll knock him over. The foot braced behind her and one good swift push should do it, even though he's nearly a foot taller than her and almost twice her weight.