Shawn The Playboy

Shawn Peters leaned back in the plush leather chair, his muscular frame relaxed yet exuding the kind of quiet confidence that filled the dimly lit VIP section of the club. The black tank top he wore clung to his chest, emphasizing every sharp line of his perfectly sculpted body, each tattooed arm resting casually on the armrests as if he had nowhere better to be. His tousled brown hair, deliberately messy, caught the faint glow of the overhead lights, casting a halo effect that gave him a godlike aura. Beneath the table, his legs stretched out in a pair of fitted blue jeans, worn just enough to hint at rebellion but tailored well enough to broadcast his affluence. A silver chain hung from his neck, catching the dim light every time he shifted, drawing attention to the soft glow of the whiskey glass he held lazily in one hand.

Surrounding him were some of the biggest names in pop. To his left, Harry Smith leaned forward, his tousled hair and patterned shirt giving off that effortlessly quirky British charm. Harry, always the provocateur, was nursing a cocktail, eyes narrowed, clearly brooding over the night’s conversation. Joshua Brenton sat on the other side, a younger, more animated presence, sipping on a beer while listening intently to the older men, trying to match their swagger. Justin Bredfort leaned back next to Joshua, a loose hoodie hanging from his lean frame, tattoos creeping out from his sleeves. His baseball cap was tilted backward, adding a casual vibe to the atmosphere, but his brow furrowed with frustration. John Mason, the eldest of the group, sat opposite Shawn, his expression hardened with the kind of weary disappointment only years in the industry could produce. The conversation had taken a dark turn, and despite their attempts at bravado, the bitter sting of their recent failure in the charts lingered in the air.

“Mate,” Harry started, his thick British accent dripping with irritation, “have you lot seen the bloody charts lately? It’s all women. Everywhere you look, pop girls—taking over the bloody world. The worst part is, they’re writing these songs about us, painting us as the villains, and the audience just eats it up.” He sipped his drink, shaking his head, his jaw tense. "It's like the whole world decided to stan their side of the story."

Joshua leaned forward, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it’s all girl power right now. You can’t even scroll through social media without seeing some fan page dedicated to the next female pop sensation. Labels are cutting our promo budgets in half, pushing them harder than us.” He paused, his voice quieter now. “It’s like we don’t even matter anymore.”

Shawn listened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he swirled the whiskey in his glass. He glanced over at Justin, who had been unusually quiet, before chiming in. "You know what's crazy, though?" Shawn's voice dripped with amusement, a cocky edge lacing his tone. "Sure, they can top the charts, write all those songs about how we're the bad guys, but at least we still dominate in the ways that really matter." He chuckled softly, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the glass.

John Mason, who had been staring at his drink like it held the answer to his problems, looked up, his face hardened. “It's frustrating, man. We used to own the charts. The fans, the money—it all came to us. Now, it’s like we’re being pushed aside, and the industry's just watching it happen.” His voice carried the weight of a man who’d seen it all, yet never expected to feel this level of displacement.

Shawn let John’s words hang in the air for a moment before his smirk widened into a full grin. “Yeah, but like I said—charts aside, we still have the upper hand where it counts. The date game” He took a swig of his drink, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Take me, for example. I’ve got Selina Woods wrapped around my finger right now.”

Joshua’s eyes shot up, his expression tightening for a split second. “You’re seeing Selina?” he asked, trying to sound casual, though there was a slight edge in his voice. “I, uh, dated her a while back.”

Shawn shrugged, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. “Yeah, I know. She mentioned it. Said you were nice or whatever, but…” He paused, his smirk growing into something almost predatory. “She needs someone to really keep her in check, you know? Someone who knows how to handle her.”

Joshua’s jaw clenched, but he stayed quiet. Shawn had always had this effect on people, the way he could slide in with that effortless arrogance and make it sound charming.

Justin, who had been quiet until now, raised his eyebrow, leaning in slightly. “You always did like the petite ones, didn’t you, Peters? Selina’s a tiny thing too, huh? Just like Cania.” His lips twisted into a knowing smile, amused by the pattern Shawn seemed to follow.

Shawn laughed, not missing a beat. “Yeah, man, what can I say? I’ve got a type. Something about a woman you can literally tower over, you know? Makes it easy to dominate. Feels… manly, I guess.” He flexed his hand around his glass, his eyes flashing with the satisfaction of a man who believed he was in full control. “Selina’s got that fire, but she’s small enough to remind her place. Same with Cania. You just gotta use your size, let them know who’s really in charge.”

Harry, who had been sipping his drink, raised his glass in mock salute. “To domination, then,” he said with a smirk, though the amusement in his voice was edged with a hint of bitterness. “At least we still have that.”

The rest of the group echoed the sentiment, clinking glasses half-heartedly, but the cracks in their bravado were beginning to show. Beneath the forced laughs and casual conversation, it was clear that the recent chart snub had hit them harder than they were willing to admit.

Shawn finished his drink, setting the empty glass on the table before standing up, stretching his tall frame. “Alright, boys,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “I’m heading out. Got plans with Selina tonight, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” He tossed a couple of bills on the table, paying for the drinks without a second thought.

As he turned to leave, he flashed them all a grin, a cocky, knowing look that said everything they didn’t need to hear out loud. “You know how it is. No commitment, no problems. See you boys around.”

With that, Shawn swaggered out of the VIP lounge, leaving behind a table full of silent frustration and broken egos. The night might have been a failure in terms of music, but for Shawn, at least, there was always another conquest waiting just around the corner.

Shawn parked his sleek black SUV in front of Selina Woods' cozy little house, the low hum of the engine dying down as he shifted into park. The street was quiet, and the soft glow from the porch light gave the whole scene a warm, inviting feel. He glanced down at his phone, the screen lighting up with a new message from Cania Cassalena.

Cania: ¿Dónde estás, Shawn? I miss you. Don't leave me hanging.

Shawn smirked, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. Cania, that fiery Latina, always seemed to know just the right words to stoke his ego. But she was high-maintenance, always wanting more than what he was willing to give. Quickly, he typed out a lie, his grin widening.

Shawn: Hey babe, just chilling at home. Talk later?

Satisfied, he locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket. It wasn’t the first time he’d played both sides, keeping his options open. He liked the game, liked the thrill of having women on a string, waiting for him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. There she was—Selina Woods, her blonde hair bouncing lightly around her shoulders, a huge smile lighting up her delicate face. She looked like a picture-perfect image of innocence and happiness, a complete contrast to Cania’s fiery temperament. Petite and cute, she practically skipped down the steps toward him, her excitement contagious.

“Hey, Shawn!” she greeted him with that bubbly voice of hers, her blue eyes sparkling as she waved. Her energy was so sweet, so joyful, it made him feel like the king of the world just being in her presence.

Shawn flashed his signature grin, stepping out of the car. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, his voice smooth and low, the flirtation practically dripping off his words. “You look amazing.”

Selina blushed, a giggle escaping her lips. “Oh, stop it. You always say that,” she teased, but there was no denying the way her smile widened at the compliment.

She opened the door wider, stepping aside to let him in. “Come on in! It’s freezing out here!”

Shawn followed her inside, ducking slightly to pass through the doorframe. Towering over her, he couldn’t help but feel that familiar sense of power being with someone so small. It was like he could protect her, control the moment. As they walked down the narrow hallway, Selina chatted away, her voice full of enthusiasm, arms swinging happily at her sides.

“So, how was your night? Did you have fun with the guys?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder with that bright smile still glued to her face.

“Yeah, it was good,” Shawn replied, his eyes wandering down to her petite frame, trailing over her as he added, “But it’s better now that I’m here with you.”

Selina let out another giggle, skipping a little as she led him into the living room. “You’re such a flirt, Shawn!” She was playful, full of that infectious, bubbly energy that made her so easy to be around. Her joy radiated from her with every step, and her movements were light and carefree.

Shawn chuckled, watching her bounce ahead of him, her small stature making her seem almost like a playful sprite next to him. He followed her to ward the fireplace, where the flames flickered, casting a warm, cozy glow over the room. As she turned to face him, her hand swung back with her usual enthusiasm—and it all happened so fast.

WHACK!

Her fist accidentally connected with Shawn’s crotch, the perfect height difference making her arm swing directly into his groin. The impact was swift, solid, and utterly devastating.

“Uuughhhh!” Shawn let out a choked groan, doubling over instantly, his face contorting in pure agony as his hands shot down to clutch his throbbing balls. His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, a strangled, pained noise escaping his lips as he hunched forward, gasping for breath.

“Oh my God, Shawn!” Selina gasped, her eyes wide with shock. Her hands flew to her mouth as she took a step back, looking absolutely horrified. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I swear, I didn’t see you there!”

Shawn couldn’t even respond. He was too busy trying to breathe through the pain, his whole body hunched over as he cradled his groin. He rocked slightly, every pulse of pain radiating from his lower abdomen, up through his chest, and down his legs.

Selina bit her lip, trying—and failing—not to laugh. She knelt down next to him, her face a mix of concern and amusement. “Are you okay?” she asked, though her lips twitched with barely suppressed laughter. “I really didn’t mean to hit you there…”

Shawn gritted his teeth, forcing himself to nod even though every movement made his stomach churn. “I-It’s fine…” he croaked, his voice strained, his face flushed with both pain and embarrassment.

Selina reached out, rubbing his shoulder gently, though she couldn’t hide the giggle that escaped her lips. “You sure? You don’t look fine.”

After a few agonizing moments, Shawn managed to pull himself together enough to straighten up, though his hands were still hovering protectively over his groin. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, didn’t expect to get punched in the nuts tonight.”

Selina couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore. She burst out giggling, her petite frame shaking with amusement as she stood up, covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I swear it was an accident!” she said between fits of laughter. “I’m just… I’m so clumsy sometimes!”

Shawn, still wincing, forced a smile, though the pain was still sharp. “Yeah, I noticed,” he muttered, his voice dry with a hint of sarcasm as he finally stood up fully.

Trying to shake off the awkward moment, they made their way to the fireplace. Selina sat down cross-legged on the plush rug in front of the fire, her bright energy still buzzing despite the mishap. Shawn, on the other hand, eased himself onto the couch, careful with every movement, his body still tingling with discomfort. He shifted slightly, but no matter how he sat, there was no escaping the dull ache radiating from his groin.

He smiled weakly at Selina, but deep down, all he could think about was how much pain he was in—both physically and, to a lesser extent, his bruised pride.

As the warmth from the fire filled the room, Selina couldn’t help but notice the way Shawn kept shifting uncomfortably on the couch, his handsome face betraying the slight grimace he tried to hide. Her eyes twinkled with amusement, and before she could stop herself, her hand reached out, lightly brushing against his thigh.

“Shawn,” she said, her voice sweet but with a playful edge, “I’ve always wondered… you guys are all so tall and strong, but just one tap…” Her fingers grazed his leg, moving dangerously close to the area he was still guarding. “...and you’re, well, like this.”

Shawn shifted again, forcing a smile. “It’s not as bad as you think,” he lied, his voice strained as he tried to play it cool. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Selina, unable to contain her curiosity and mischief, suddenly reached out and tapped his crotch again, a quick, light flick of her fingers.

WHACK!

“Uuughh—!” Shawn’s reaction was immediate and comical. His body jerked forward as he let out a strangled shout, his face contorting in a mixture of pain and disbelief. His hands flew to his groin again, his eyes wide as he hunched over, gasping for breath. The sharp, burning pain shot through him, and this time it felt even worse.

Selina couldn’t stop herself. She burst out laughing, her small frame shaking with glee as she covered her mouth, her eyes wide with delight. “Oh my God, Shawn!” she giggled, her voice high-pitched with laughter. “I barely touched you! How can something so small hurt you so much?”

Shawn gritted his teeth, trying to breathe through the pain, his pride now stinging just as much as his groin. “I-It’s nothing,” he muttered, forcing a smirk, though his voice came out strained. “Just a little discomfort. It's not like the movies where one hit takes us out. Men are still strong—we still dominate.”

He straightened up, his confidence returning as he shifted closer to her, his signature charm slipping back into place. His eyes locked on hers, his voice lowering to that smooth, deep tone that always got the ladies. “I mean, you know how it is, Selina. Guys like me... we’ve got strength where it counts.”

Selina blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in his demeanor. She could feel the heat of his body as he leaned in closer, his hand brushing lightly against her cheek. His lips hovered near hers, and for a moment, her breath hitched. Shawn had that way about him—he was irresistible when he turned on the charm.

Just as his lips were about to meet hers, Shawn's thigh shifted slightly—too quickly—and his own thigh accidentally clamped down on his already injured groin.

“AAAAAAH! Oh, God!” Shawn cried out, doubling over yet again, his face twisting in sheer agony. His hands flew back to his crotch,
clutching himself as he fell to the side, groaning in pain. The awkward movement only worsened the ache, and all his attempts to play it cool crumbled in an instant.

Selina froze for a second, then erupted into uncontrollable laughter. “Oh my God, Shawn!” she shrieked between giggles, her hands on her knees as she bent over, laughing so hard her face turned red. “You did that to yourself! I didn’t even touch you this time!”

Shawn could barely respond, his breath coming in short gasps as he rolled onto his side, trying to will the pain away. He felt utterly humiliated. His usually confident swagger was replaced with a pained grimace, and he couldn’t escape the taunting sound of Selina’s laughter echoing around the room.

Selina wiped away tears from her eyes, grinning down at him with a mischievous look. “What was that you were saying about men being strong and dominating? Doesn’t look like it right now, Peters.” Her voice took on a teasing, almost mocking tone, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “You’re not looking so strong now, huh? Bet it doesn’t feel so manly now, does it?”

Shawn’s face flushed red, not just from the pain, but from the sting to his ego. He could feel it—his confidence was shrinking, and worse, he could feel something else shrinking too. The more she laughed, the more emasculated he felt, and he cursed under his breath as he adjusted himself again, his body still trembling from the lingering ache.

Selina leaned in, her voice lowering to a whisper, her lips brushing against his ear as she teased, “Did I emasculate you, Peters? Knock you down a peg?”

Shawn’s face turned pale, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow. He tried to recover, but the throbbing pain and her relentless laughter made it impossible. The more she taunted him, the more he felt his masculinity slip away, like she was draining every last bit of his bravado with each word.

Selina sat back, laughing again, completely amused by his discomfort. “You know,” she giggled, “I really should write about this. I mean, imagine the headline: ‘Pop Star Shawn Peters Brought to His Knees by a Single Tap.’” She clapped her hands, laughing uncontrollably.

Shawn’s eyes widened in horror. “Please don’t,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His heart raced as he imagined the humiliation. “Come on, Selina. Don’t… don’t write about this.”

But Selina couldn’t stop laughing. The image of him—this confident, swaggering man reduced to a whimpering mess—was too hilarious for her to let go.

Trying to salvage what was left of his pride, Shawn forced himself to stand, wincing as he adjusted his jeans. “I, uh… I think I need to go,” he muttered, his voice shaky. “My dad called earlier. Said he needed me back home.”

Selina tilted her head, her playful smirk widening. “Oh, really? Or is it because I struck your male ego a little too hard?” Her eyes twinkled as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Come on, Shawn. Did I scare you off? Did I make you feel a little… less of a man?” She let the question linger, her eyes daring him to deny it. “Admit it, big boy!”

Shawn’s mouth went dry. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck as her words sunk in. His palms felt clammy, and his heart pounded in his chest. “No, no, I just… I really need to go.”

Selina’s laughter bubbled up again, her eyes dancing with mischievous glee. “Oh, I know men so well,” she teased, standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear once more. “I knew it. I did emasculate you, didn’t I, Peters?”

Shawn’s face turned ashen, his stomach twisting in knots. “I… I gotta go,” he stammered, backing away quickly.

Selina watched, unable to stop giggling as he practically stumbled toward the door. Before he could reach the handle, she skipped up to him, planting a playful kiss on his forehead. “Be careful of those stupid hanging organs next time, okay?” she teased, her laughter ringing in his ears as she jumped back and waved.

Shawn nodded quickly, not trusting himself to say anything else. As he hurried out the door, his mind raced, and all he could hear was the echo of Selina’s mocking laughter following him into the night.

"Men…" Selina chuckled to herself, her voice dripping with amusement as she sat back down in front of the TV, watching her movie. The light from the screen flickered across her face, illuminating the gleeful smirk she couldn’t hide. "And they thought they rule the world," she muttered with another burst of laughter, shaking her head in disbelief at Shawn’s awkward exit.

Meanwhile, out in the car, Shawn Peters was still reeling from both the physical pain and the sheer humiliation of what had just happened. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he fought through the aching throb that radiated from his groin. He could still hear Selina’s laughter echoing in his ears, taunting him, mocking him.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a bottle of aspirin. He twisted the cap off with shaky hands and fumbled with the pills, grabbing two without looking closely. Desperate to make the pain go away, he popped them into his mouth and swallowed, wincing as the dull ache persisted. He leaned back in his seat, hoping the aspirin would kick in soon.

But it didn’t take long for him to realize his mistake. A few minutes passed, and instead of relief, Shawn felt a different kind of sensation. His heart rate picked up, and a strange warmth spread through his body, quickly centering itself below the belt.

"Shit… shit!" he whispered, eyes wide with panic as the realization hit him like a freight train. He hadn’t taken aspirin—he’d grabbed two Viagra instead. He could already feel the unmistakable tightening in his jeans as his bulge began to grow, pressing uncomfortably against the denim fabric.

His eyes darted toward Selina’s house, and he quickly shook his head. "No way," he muttered, wincing as the pressure down below increased. Going back to Selina’s place would be far too humiliating—he couldn’t face her like this. There was only one other option.

He turned the key in the ignition, his heart racing as he pulled out onto the quiet streets of Los Angeles, heading in the direction of Cania’s apartment. His mind spun with desperation. Cania, that fiery Latina… she would know how to handle this, right?

By the time Shawn arrived, he was in full panic mode. The erection in his jeans had grown so painfully large that he could barely think straight. He parked the car, grabbed his guitar from the back seat, and hurried up to Cania’s door, using the instrument as a shield to cover his bulge.

He knocked, taking a deep breath and trying to pull himself together. The door opened, and there she was—Cania Cassalena, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, her expression surprised but not entirely displeased to see him.

"Shawn?" she said, eyebrows raised. "What are you doing here?"

"I… I just really needed to see you," Shawn stammered, trying to sound casual, though his voice was tight with tension. He stepped inside awkwardly, still holding the guitar in front of him, his posture stiff and strange.

Cania’s eyes narrowed slightly as she watched him walk in. She tilted her head, noticing the way he was walking… differently. Slowly, she reached for the guitar, pulling it out of his hands and letting it drop to the floor.

Her eyes immediately landed on the bulge straining against the front of his jeans, and she burst out laughing, her voice echoing through the room. "Oh my God, Shawn!" she exclaimed between giggles. "Are you… seriously this horny?"

Shawn flushed, his face burning with embarrassment. "It’s not like that," he muttered, trying to regain some control over the situation. He stepped closer to her, his voice dropping to that familiar, seductive tone. "I still love you, Cania. I’ve missed you… missed us, Senorita"

He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers, but just as he went in for the kiss, Cania gently pushed him back, her expression softening. "Shawn, stop," she whispered, her hand resting against his chest. "I need time, okay? I love you too, but I don’t want you coming over here just for sex."

Shawn’s frustration grew, his body screaming for relief, but he forced himself to nod, trying to play along. "Yeah… yeah, of course. Let’s just talk, okay? I didn’t mean to rush things," he lied, his voice strained.

Cania smiled gently, seeming to relax a little. "Let’s sit down, and just… you know, take things slow."

Shawn sighed, feeling the pressure between his legs intensify. "I, uh… I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom," he said quickly, excusing himself before she could notice how desperate he really was.

Once inside the bathroom, Shawn locked the door and leaned against the sink, his hands shaking as he tried to adjust himself. He reached down, wincing as he touched his painfully swollen erection, hoping to find some relief. But just as he was about to take care of the situation, he heard a knock on the door.

"Shawn?" Cania’s voice called from the other side. "What’s taking so long?"

In his panic, Shawn yanked at his zipper, trying to pull it up quickly. But in his haste, he didn’t realize the fabric had caught… until it was too late.

"AAAAAHHHH!" he screamed, his voice breaking as the zipper caught the tip of his penis. The sharp pain shot through him like a bolt of lightning, and he doubled over, clutching at the front of his jeans, his eyes watering as he gasped for breath.

Cania opened the door, having heard his cry, and froze when she saw him. Then, just as Selina had, she burst into laughter. "Oh my God, Shawn!" she cackled, tears of amusement streaming down her face. "Did you… did you seriously zip yourself up in there?!"

Shawn groaned, his face red with a mixture of pain and embarrassment. "I-It’s not funny," he whimpered, his voice shaking. "Cania, please… help me."

But Cania wasn’t done. She leaned against the doorframe, shaking her head as she laughed uncontrollably. "Oh, Shawn. This is priceless. Mr. Big and Strong, brought to his knees by his own zipper?"

Shawn’s heart sank as her words dug deeper into his already shattered pride. He could barely think, the pain between his legs overpowering everything else. "Please… Cania… just help me out of this," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cania, still grinning, finally relented. "Alright, alright, I’ll help you," she said with a smirk, stepping closer to carefully help him out of his predicament. But even as she did, she couldn’t stop herself from teasing him. "Honestly, Peters, you really need to be more careful with those stupid hanging organs of yours."

Shawn couldn’t respond. All he could do was wince, his ego bruised beyond repair, as Cania gently freed him from his painful, humiliating situation.

Shawn winced with every step as Cania helped him back to the couch, his arm slung over her shoulder for support. His whole body still felt the aftershocks of the zipper incident, and the pain radiating from his groin made it impossible for him to move with any kind of grace. Cania, on the other hand, was barely able to contain her laughter, her soft chuckles breaking the silence as she guided him to sit down.

“You men are really something,” she teased, her fingers trailing lightly along his arm. Her touch was gentle, but the mocking tone in her voice was undeniable. “Strong, tough, and all it takes is one little accident to bring you down.” She glanced down at his injured area, her lips twitching with amusement. "I mean, seriously, Shawn—how stupid can you be?"

Shawn tried to laugh it off, but the combination of pain and embarrassment was too much to bear. He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting himself on the couch, his face flushed. “Yeah, well… sometimes things just go wrong,” he muttered, still trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.

Cania’s laughter softened, and she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a more serious tone as her eyes locked onto his. “But seriously, Shawn… you know I love you, right? Always have.” Her gaze was intense, her hand still resting on his arm, but there was a dangerous edge to her words. "But if I ever find out you're just playing me, I swear I’ll cut your dick off. Just like Lorena Bobbitt did to her husband." She leaned in, her voice a deadly whisper as her eyes bored into his. “You remember that story, don’t you, Shawn?”

Shawn’s breath caught in his throat. The intensity in her eyes left him momentarily speechless. He nodded slowly, his voice weak as he stammered, “Y-Yeah, Cania… I know. I’m not playing you. I… I love you too.”

Cania watched him for a moment longer, her eyes searching his face as if gauging his sincerity. Then, with a small smile, she relaxed back into the couch, satisfied—for now.

Shawn exhaled, his body finally beginning to ease, though the tension in the air was still palpable. But before he could settle into the silence, Cania’s curiosity got the better of her. She tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smirk as a new thought crossed her mind.

“You know, Shawn,” she said softly, her voice taking on that mischievous tone again, “I’ve been thinking… Do you really think I could defeat you?” She leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “Because I’ve been toying with this idea for a music video—kind of a Charlie’s Angels thing, but with me and some girls, and you as the villain. What do you think?” Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she waited for his response, clearly enjoying the power she held over him in that moment.

Shawn, still in pain, his pride bruised beyond repair, forced a smile, trying to hide the fact that her question had him reeling. "I mean… it sounds interesting," he said cautiously, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. He couldn’t deny how Cania had been steadily breaking down his walls tonight, and the thought of being defeated, even in a fictional sense, felt too close to home.

But Cania’s eyes never left his, her playful smirk widening as she leaned back, satisfied with how Shawn’s composure seemed to be unraveling bit by bit.

Cania’s eyes softened as she settled on the couch next to Shawn, her teasing edge fading for just a moment. “Hey, Shawn,” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost nostalgic, “Do you remember shooting that music video in the motel?”

Shawn’s lips curled into a soft smile, the memory flickering to life in his mind. He nodded. “Yeah… I remember,” he murmured, his voice warm. For a moment, the air between them shifted, the usual banter replaced with something deeper. A shared history. A true connection. They had known each other for so long, dancing around their feelings, and yet there were moments—like this—where the wall between them felt thin, almost transparent.

Cania’s eyes scanned his face, and for the first time that night, she wasn’t teasing him. She was conflicted. Deep down, she had always known there was something real between them. Shawn had always been this big, tall, perfect guy in her eyes—every inch of him screamed confidence, charm, and control. But she also knew the truth. Men were men. And Shawn? He was the worst kind of man, the type who would always keep people waiting, always wanting more, but never giving enough.

She sighed, the warmth of the moment turning a little colder as doubt crept back in. “Tell me, Peters,” she whispered, her voice just above a breath, “are you playing a game with me?” Her eyes locked onto his, searching for the answer that had gnawed at her for so long.

Shawn shifted slightly, wincing from the residual pain but holding her gaze. “No, Cania,” he said, his voice low and sincere. He reached out, taking her hand in his. “I’m not playing any games. Not with you.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. It was the answer she wanted to hear. For once, she allowed herself to believe him, if only for that fleeting moment. With that, their lips met in a kiss—soft at first, but deepening quickly, their bodies moving together like they had done this a thousand times before.

Shawn’s hands roamed her waist as he pulled her closer, the heat between them rising. He pushed her gently back onto the couch, his large frame hovering over her as he kissed her again, more urgently this time. For a brief moment, he forgot about the pain still throbbing in his groin. His focus was entirely on her, on this moment.

But before he could fully lose himself, something happened. As Cania adjusted herself beneath him, her knee shot up, hitting him squarely in the groin.

WHACK!

The sound of impact was unmistakable, and the pain that followed was immediate and excruciating.

“Ahhh! Oh my God!” Shawn’s face contorted in sheer agony as he gasped for breath. His hands shot down to clutch his balls, but the pain was so intense, so overwhelming, that he couldn’t even stay upright. He collapsed to the floor, doubling over, his body trembling as wave after wave of agony radiated from his groin. His eyes squeezed shut, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he tried to make sense of the searing pain that seemed to engulf his entire lower body.

Cania stood up, startled at first, but then something shifted in her as she watched him writhe on the floor. Shawn Peters—the towering, confident, untouchable man—was now reduced to a helpless mess, clutching his most vulnerable spot, entirely at her mercy. She felt a strange sense of empowerment flood through her. It wasn’t just the satisfaction of seeing him in pain, but the realization that she—small, petite Cania—had the power to bring someone like him to his knees.

She took a step closer, watching how he reacted, his body convulsing slightly with every sharp pulse of pain. Her eyes roamed over him, taking in how someone who had always seemed so invincible could be reduced to this state, entirely powerless. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something about seeing him like this felt oddly satisfying.

“Oops,” Cania said, her voice light, but there was an undeniable teasing edge to it. “That’s my bad.” She tilted her head, examining him with a small, almost cruel smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I mean, seriously, Shawn. Right when I change my mind and decide I actually want to do something intimate with you, your balls have to ruin it.”

Shawn couldn’t respond. He was too busy trying to breathe, his body curling in on itself as the pain continued to wreck him from the inside out. His hands pressed against his groin as if he could somehow will the agony away, but it wasn’t working. The sharp, burning pain only seemed to intensify.

Cania knelt down beside him, her laughter bubbling up again as she watched him struggle. “You really should consider this, Shawn,” she said, her voice soft and mocking as she leaned in close to his ear. “Testicles? Total joke. I mean, one little hit, and look at you.” She couldn’t help but laugh as Shawn groaned, his face pale and sweaty from the pain. “Big strong Shawn Peters, brought down by his own balls.”

Her laughter filled the room, sharp and unapologetic. Shawn squeezed his eyes shut tighter, his face contorted in humiliation as much as pain. His pride, already bruised, felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces as Cania’s mocking voice cut through the haze of his agony.

“Come on, Peters,” she teased, shaking her head. “Maybe if you didn’t have those stupid hanging organs in the way, you’d actually be able to handle yourself.” She giggled, clearly relishing the way she had completely and utterly disarmed him.

Shawn tried to speak, but the pain in his voice was undeniable. He could barely get the words out between gasps. "Please... Cania... just... stop."

But Cania only smiled wider, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Stop? Oh, come on, Shawn. I thought you were tough." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Or maybe... I just emasculated you."

Cania stood over Shawn, watching him writhe on the floor, his face twisted in pain, hands clutching his groin as if he could somehow control the unbearable ache coursing through him. The sight of him—Shawn Peters, a symbol of untouchable masculinity—reduced to such a vulnerable state stirred something deep inside her. It was a strange feeling, one she didn’t expect. The thought of emasculating a man like Shawn, of making someone so powerful, so confident, so big, fall to his knees, did something to her. She couldn’t quite place it, but a rush of excitement mixed with empowerment flowed through her. Was that weird? She wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t deny how it made her feel.

Cania stood there, eyes studying his pained expression as he groaned, his face a mask of desperation. “You should go home,” she said, trying to sound casual, but there was an unmistakable amusement in her tone. She wasn’t done teasing him. Shawn’s breathing was still labored, his eyes shut tight as he rolled onto his side, trying to escape the pain. His face twisted with agony, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple, his lips parted in short, ragged breaths. It was clear he was in no condition to move, let alone leave.

“Cania,” he croaked, his voice hoarse, barely able to form words through the pain. His large, trembling hand reached out toward her, as if hoping she’d give him just a few more minutes to collect himself. “Could you just… give me a little more time? Please…”

His eyes, still glazed with pain, locked onto hers, searching for some kind of mercy. He looked lost, helpless, a far cry from the smooth, confident pop star he usually was. His pride had already been shattered, but the way he was now, with his body curled in defeat—it was almost pitiful.

Cania sighed, still finding it hard not to laugh, but she softened. She knelt down beside him, her fingers gently brushing through his messy curls, her eyes bright with amusement, but something softer lingered behind her teasing. “Yeah, alright, Peters,” she murmured with a sly grin, rubbing his hair like he was a puppy who’d just gotten into trouble. “Show yourself out when you can.”

As she stood back up, Shawn could only offer a weak nod, his face flushing with embarrassment. He rolled onto his back, still cradling his groin with one hand as the other reached for the coffee table, using it to pull himself up. His expression was a mix of discomfort and humiliation, his brows furrowed deeply, his lips pressed together as he fought to regain some semblance of composure. But no matter how he tried to look strong, the vulnerability lingered in his eyes.

Cania smirked, her eyes drifting down toward his crotch, the source of all his torment tonight. “I’m gonna go take a bath,” she whispered, almost as if talking to herself. She stretched her arms above her head, sighing softly before she turned toward the bathroom. “I need a nice hot soak. Too many things swirling around in my head. You… you make me crazy, Shawnie.” She paused, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper as she shot him one last glance over her shoulder, pointing at his groin with a wicked smile. “But remember… I can make you crazier.”

Shawn’s face turned a deep shade of red, his eyes widening slightly at her boldness. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain some kind of composure, but the lingering pain and Cania’s taunting words left him feeling more exposed than ever. His lips parted, as if to say something, but no words came out. All he could do was watch as she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him there, alone and humiliated.

He crawled toward the door, each movement slow and painful, his body still throbbing with the aftereffects of Cania’s unintentional—yet devastating—knee to his crotch. He managed to get to his feet, but walking was an entirely different challenge. Every step sent another sharp jolt of pain through him, and he gritted his teeth, barely able to stand.

There was no way he could drive home like this.

He stepped outside into the cool Los Angeles night, the fresh air hitting his face. The thought of going back to his place seemed impossible. He couldn’t even sit comfortably, let alone drive. But then he remembered—Harry Smith lived just a block away from Cania. He could make it there, right?

Shawn fumbled for his phone, pulling it out of his pocket with shaky hands. He quickly dialed Harry’s number, hoping he wasn’t asleep yet.

“Mate, what’s up?” Harry’s familiar British accent came through the line, sounding relaxed.

“Harry, man…” Shawn winced, still struggling to stand. “I… I need to come to your place. It’s urgent.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and Shawn could practically hear the raised eyebrow in Harry’s voice when he responded, “Urgent? You alright, mate?”

“Not exactly,” Shawn muttered, looking down the street toward Harry’s place. He could make it there… he just had to push through. “Can I come over?”

Harry let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, come on over. But this better be good, Peters.”

Shawn hung up, gritting his teeth as he started down the street, each step a painful reminder of just how far he’d fallen tonight.

Shawn hobbled down the narrow sidewalk toward Harry Smith' house, each step sending a dull throb of pain radiating from his groin. His face was flushed with a mix of embarrassment and discomfort, and the cool Los Angeles night air did nothing to ease the ache between his legs. Every step was a reminder of how his night had gone from bad to worse, and now all he wanted was to hide the humiliation that seemed to cling to him like a bad cologne.

By the time he reached Harry's door, his posture was slumped, one hand hovering protectively over his crotch. He tapped on the door, barely able to stand up straight.

The door swung open, and Harry Smith stood there, leaning casually against the frame, dressed in his usual flamboyant yet effortlessly cool style—an unbuttoned floral shirt revealing his tattooed chest, skinny jeans hanging low on his hips. His eyes widened the moment he saw Shawn hunched over, and a slow, knowing smile curled his lips.

“Mate,” Harry said, crossing his arms, his voice dripping with amusement. “What the hell happened to you?”

Shawn tried to straighten up, but the stabbing pain shot through him again, and he winced, hissing through gritted teeth. “Don’t… don’t ask.”

But Harry wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. He stepped aside, gesturing for Shawn to come in. “Come on, get in here before you collapse on the porch.”

Shawn limped inside, every movement deliberate and cautious. Harry shut the door behind him and followed Shawn into the living room. It was a cozy, yet stylish space, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the room, reflecting off the various pieces of abstract art on the walls.

Shawn collapsed onto the couch with a groan, his hands immediately going to his groin again as he leaned back, trying to catch his breath.

Harry sat across from him, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “Alright, spill. You look like someone just took a baseball bat to your balls.”

Shawn grimaced, rubbing his face with his hand. “Worse,” he muttered. “Selina… Cania… both of them. Back-to-back. My balls didn’t stand a chance.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, and for a moment, he looked genuinely shocked. But then, as if the absurdity of it all hit him, he burst out laughing. “Oh mate, you’ve got to be kidding me! Both of them? What, did they tag-team you or something?”

Shawn groaned, leaning forward slightly. “It wasn’t like that. It’s just… Selina’s all bubbly and clumsy, and Cania—” He paused, his voice laced with frustration. “She’s… I don’t even know if she did it on purpose, but it sure as hell felt like it. They both got me, and now I can barely walk.”

Harry leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, a devilish smirk spreading across his face. “Girls, man. They’ve got no idea what it’s like. They don’t have balls, so they’ll never get it. I’ve been there, mate. It’s like they think it’s some kind of joke.”

Shawn nodded, wincing as another wave of pain pulsed through him. “Yeah, and the worst part? I don’t even know if they didn’t mean to do it. Selina, sure, maybe it was an accident. But Cania?” He shook his head. “She’s got this way of looking at me when it happens, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. It’s like she enjoys watching me suffer.”

Harry chuckled darkly, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “Oh, they do, mate. They enjoy toying with us, playing with our egos. It’s like some twisted power trip. They know exactly where to hit us—literally and figuratively.”

Shawn clenched his jaw, the anger bubbling up as he remembered Cania’s smirk, the way she’d teased him even while he was doubled over in agony. “It’s humiliating. And they act like it’s no big deal, like we’re just supposed to laugh it off. But I’m done, man. I’m sick of feeling like they’re the ones in control.”

Harry’s eyes gleamed as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Then don’t let them be in control, Shawn. We’re men, yeah? We’ve got to keep our cool, keep that dominance. They want to mess with our heads, fine—but we play them right back. You’ve got Selina and Cania both in your orbit, don’t you?”

Shawn nodded slowly, though he could feel the weight of his emotions. “Yeah… but with Cania, it’s different. I think… I think I actually care about her.”

Harry waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t overthink it. The moment you start caring too much, that’s when they’ve got you. You play them, Shawn. Keep them guessing. Make them think they’re the ones in control, but really, you’re the one pulling the strings.”

Shawn’s brow furrowed as he considered Harry’s words. There was a part of him that didn’t want to admit that Harry might be right. His feelings for Cania were real—or at least he thought they were. But then there was the way she had teased him, humiliated him, made him feel small. His pride was bruised, and Harry’s words were starting to sound more tempting by the second.

“You really think that’ll work?” Shawn asked, his voice hesitant, but there was a glimmer of something darker beneath the question—a desire to prove that he was still the one in control.

Harry grinned, leaning back and crossing his legs casually. “It’s the only way, mate. You’ve got to show them who’s boss. Women—they think they’ve got the upper hand, but that’s only if we let them. Play it cool. Keep them on their toes. No commitment, no feelings. Just the game.”

Shawn took a deep breath, the wheels turning in his mind. Maybe Harry was right. Maybe he’d been too soft, too willing to let his guard down. He’d been thinking with his heart, not his head. And that’s why he’d ended up on the floor, clutching his balls while Cania laughed.

“Alright,” Shawn muttered, sitting up straighter despite the ache still pulsing through him. “I’ll play the game.”

Harry’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “That’s the spirit, mate. And hey—what better way to prove it than a boys’ night tomorrow?”

Shawn raised an eyebrow. “Boys’ night?”

Harry nodded, his excitement palpable. “Yeah, John Mason, Joshua Brenton, you, me—just the lads. We’ll grab some drinks, talk about music, life, and all that bullshit. Justin’s not coming, though. Hailey’s been nagging him to stay home, so he’s lost it. Ever since he got married, it’s like he’s a different person.”

Shawn snorted, despite himself. “Yeah, Justin’s whipped.”

Harry laughed, raising an imaginary glass in a toast. “To the poor bastard. He’s lost the plot. But us? We’re still in the game, mate. Tomorrow’s gonna be a good night.”

Shawn couldn’t help but smile, the camaraderie and bravado between them soothing his bruised ego. The pain between his legs was still there, a constant reminder of the humiliation he’d suffered, but for the first time that night, it didn’t sting quite as much.

The next day. In A Bar

The dim lights of the bar flickered softly against the polished surfaces, casting a warm, inviting glow over the leather booths and wooden bar stools. Laughter and chatter filled the air as people clinked glasses, lost in the buzz of conversation. Cania sat at a high table with her former bandmates, Laura and Dani, their drinks half-finished, and the three women deep in conversation. It had been a while since they had gotten together like this—just the girls, no pressure, no stress, just them and the easy rhythm of old friendships.

Cania's phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a message from Shawn.

Shawn: “Hey, I’m hanging with the guys tonight. Boys' time. Catch you later, Cania. 😘”

She glanced at it quickly, trying to ignore the slight pang in her chest. She knew what "boys' time" meant—booze, banter, and ego stroking. It wasn't that she didn't trust him... but then again, she wasn’t sure if she entirely did. Not after the weird energy between them lately.

“Shawn again?” Laura asked, her tone laced with suspicion as she raised her drink to her lips. She had never liked Shawn, not from the beginning.

Cania sighed, tucking her phone away. “Yeah, he’s with the guys tonight.”

Dani, ever the skeptic, leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You sure you should be trusting him like that, Cania? I mean, this is Shawn Peters we’re talking about. The guy has ‘playboy’ written all over him.”

Cania frowned, but Laura chimed in before she could respond. “She’s right. I get that he’s charming or whatever, but Shawn’s a guy who thrives on attention. He knows how to play the game, and if you’re not careful, you’ll be just another girl he’s stringing along.”

Cania’s heart sank a little, though she tried to mask it with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s not like that. We’ve got history.”

Dani rolled her eyes. “History doesn’t stop a guy like Shawn from doing what guys like him do best—play the field.”

Cania bit her lip, but before she could respond, she felt the familiar tightness in her chest. What if Dani and Laura were right? What if Shawn was just… playing her? She didn’t want to believe it, but the doubts that had been gnawing at her lately were starting to grow louder.

“I’m gonna go to the ladies’ room,” she mumbled, pushing back her chair and standing up, her drink forgotten. She needed a moment to clear her head, to shake off the nagging thoughts.

As she made her way to the bathroom, her phone buzzed again. She glanced down, but this time it wasn’t Shawn—it was a notification from Instagram. She ignored it, tucking her phone into her bag as she pushed open the door to the bathroom.

Inside, the low hum of the bar was muffled, and the soft light reflected off the sleek, modern mirrors lining the walls. Cania took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. She walked over to the sink, splashing some cool water on her face, hoping it would help her push Shawn out of her mind, even for just a few minutes.

The door creaked open behind her, and Cania looked up in the mirror. It’s Selina, fellow pop stars.

Selina stepped in, hesitating for a moment as her eyes met Cania’s in the reflection. They both paused, the tension between them palpable, like two athletes sizing each other up before a game. Cania knew Selina had been spending time with Shawn recently, but she hadn’t thought much of it—until now.

“Hey,” Selina said cautiously, offering a small smile. “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Cania forced a smile, trying to push down the sudden anxiety rising in her chest. “Yeah, I’m out with Laura and Dani. Just catching up.”

Selina nodded, leaning against the sink beside Cania. The silence hung between them for a moment, awkward and thick, before Selina broke it. “I, uh, wasn’t sure if I should come in here, honestly.”

“Why?” Cania asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Selina sighed, playing with the edge of her sleeve. “Because… I know you and Shawn have history. And, well, I wasn’t sure if it would be weird between us.”

Cania frowned, a sinking feeling creeping into her stomach. “Weird? What do you mean?”

Selina bit her lip, clearly unsure how to phrase what she was about to say. “Look, I didn’t want to bring it up like this, but since we’re both here... I just wanted to be upfront with you. I’ve been, uh, talking to Shawn. Like, talking-talking. It’s gotten a bit… intimate.”

Cania’s heart dropped like a stone into her stomach. She blinked, the air in the bathroom suddenly feeling too thick, too stifling. “You’re… what?”

Selina shifted awkwardly, looking a bit uncomfortable but still earnest. “Yeah, I mean, I didn’t know how serious things were between you two, but Shawn told me you guys were more like exes now, and that it was... complicated.”

Cania could feel the heat rushing to her face, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of the sink. She had always suspected that something was off with Shawn, but hearing this—from Selina, no less—was like a punch to the gut.

“I had no idea,” Cania whispered, her voice barely audible. She blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears that were already threatening to spill over.

Selina’s eyes widened in confusion, her brow furrowing. “Wait, you didn’t know?”

Cania shook her head, her chest tightening as she tried to process what she was hearing. “He didn’t tell me anything. He—he made it seem like we were still… something.”

Selina’s face went pale, and she quickly fumbled for her phone. “Oh my God, Cania, I didn’t know. I thought you two were completely done. He told me—well, I don’t know. I didn’t want to get involved if you guys were still together. I swear I didn’t know.”

Cania’s breath hitched, and she could feel her emotions bubbling over, despite her best efforts to keep it together. “He lied to you,” she managed to choke out, her voice breaking.

Selina, looking horrified, scrolled through her messages quickly, showing Cania her recent texts from Shawn. “I’m so sorry, Cania. I didn’t know he was playing both of us. Look—he told me he wasn’t seeing anyone seriously.”

Cania stared at the screen, her heart pounding as the messages flashed before her eyes. It was all there—Shawn being his usual charming, flirtatious self, texting Selina the same kind of sweet, intimate things he had been texting her. He’d been stringing them both along, keeping them in the dark about each other.

Tears welled up in Cania’s eyes, and she couldn’t hold them back any longer. She covered her mouth with her hand, a sob escaping her lips as she turned away, her shoulders shaking.

“Cania, I’m so sorry,” Selina said again, her voice full of regret. She reached out, gently touching Cania’s arm. “I didn’t know he was doing this. I wouldn’t have…”

Cania wiped at her eyes, sniffling as she tried to compose herself. “I thought—” She swallowed hard, struggling to find the words. “I thought maybe he still cared about me, you know? I didn’t think he was capable of playing us like this.”

Selina nodded, her own face a mix of anger and guilt. “I should’ve asked you sooner. I should’ve known something was up. But you’re right—he played us both. And for what? To stroke his ego?”

They both stood there, the weight of realization settling in. Shawn had been playing them, lying to both of them, making them believe they each had a special place in his life when, really, they were just pawns in his game.

They both exchanged a knowing look, the hurt and anger simmering just beneath the surface. Shawn might have played them, but now, they were onto him.

30 minutes later.

Cania and Selina sat side by side on a oversized sofa in the corner of the bar, surrounded by their friends Laura, Dani, and Selina’s best friend, Olive. The atmosphere had shifted since the girls had discovered Shawn’s deception, and now, there was a simmering energy of defiance and solidarity in the air. Glasses of wine and cocktails rested on the table in front of them, untouched for now as they shared their stories, their bond strengthened by the shared betrayal.

“I cannot believe he thought he could get away with this,” Cania said, her voice sharp with anger. “Like, he actually believed we wouldn’t talk to each other? What, just because we’re women, we’re supposed to be enemies fighting over him like some grand prize?”

Laura snorted, shaking her head as she took a sip of her drink. “Men like him are pathetic. They think they’re the center of the universe. As if we’re all sitting around, waiting to be chosen.”

Olive leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’ve seen it a million times, trust me. Guys like Shawn? Big babies. They can't handle the fact that women are out here winning—career-wise, emotionally, all of it. So, what do they do? They try to juggle two, three women at once to feel important.”

Selina nodded in agreement, her voice rising with indignation. “Exactly! They think they’re some kind of prize when in reality, they’re just overgrown toddlers with fragile egos.”

The group erupted into laughter, the sharp, knowing kind that comes from shared experiences. Cania wiped away a tear from laughing so hard, her earlier frustration fading in the warmth of the moment. “Honestly, the fact that Shawn really thought he could keep us both in the dark? He must think we’re stupid. But it’s not just him. It’s all these men in the industry. They’re losing their grip on relevance, so they play games to feel like they’re still in control.”

Dani, ever the blunt one, rolled her eyes. “Men aren’t a prize. If anything, they’re a burden—something you have to deal with. Like, they need to be taken care of all the time. Big baby energy.”

Olive snorted. “Exactly! Men are like children, except they think they’re kings.”

Selina turned to Olive with a sly grin. “Remember Joshua Brenton? He tried the same crap with both of us. Public practically begged for a catfight. They acted like we were supposed to tear each other apart while he sat on his throne, like he was the ultimate prize or something.”

Olive groaned, shaking her head in mock disgust. “Girl, please. Joshua wasn’t even worth it. Honestly, none of them are. But the public loves seeing women fighting over men because it distracts from the fact that these guys are fading.”

Selina took a deep breath, her voice filled with the fire of realization. “That’s what it is! These male pop stars are watching their careers sink, so they try to pull us into their mess, making us think they’re still in charge. They’re grasping at straws, trying to feel powerful.”

Laura chuckled, nodding in agreement. “It’s pathetic, really. They think juggling women makes them powerful, but they’re just scared. Scared because they’re not the top dogs anymore.”

Cania, her laughter bubbling up again, couldn’t help but add, “And Shawn, of all people, thought we wouldn’t figure him out. But let me tell you—" She glanced at Selina, her voice lowering mischievously, “—we know exactly where his weakness lies.”

Without missing a beat, Selina’s eyes lit up as she turned to Cania, and they both said in unison, “We should kick Shawn’s balls!”

The room exploded with laughter, the kind of laughter that comes from shared rage and empowerment. The idea of Shawn’s precious ego—and his body—being taken down a peg was too sweet to resist.

“Oh my God,” Olive gasped between fits of laughter, clutching her stomach. “You guys really said that at the same time?”

Cania wiped at her eyes, her face flushed from laughing so hard. “We did! And you know what? It’s perfect. If he’s going to mess with us, then he’s going to learn the hard way that women don’t play around.”

Selina leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And speaking of learning the hard way, do you know what happened last night?”

Cania bit her lip, trying not to laugh too soon. “You first.”

Selina couldn’t contain her grin as she recounted the story. “So, we’re hanging out at my place, right? All cute and cozy by the fireplace. I walked there, totally by accident, and bam! My fist goes straight into his crotch.”

Dani, already in hysterics, doubled over, practically choking on her drink. “No way!”

“Yes way!” Selina cackled. “He dropped like a sack of potatoes. His face—oh my God, he was dying. And I’m just standing there, trying not to laugh, but it was too funny. The big, tough pop star, brought down by one little swing. He’s so pathetic and useless. Fuck him!”

Cania raised her hand, her smile wicked. “Same thing happened with me! My knee hit him. He went down so fast, you’d think he was about to cry. I can’t help but laughing. Though he still looks cute.”

The girls howled with laughter, tears streaming down their faces as they imagined Shawn, so full of bravado, crumbling from something as simple as a hit to the groin.

Laura smirked, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “I think you’re onto something. These guys? They act like they’re invincible, but all it takes is one little tap, and they’re done for.”

Olive raised her glass, her voice triumphant. “To girl power. And to making sure guys like Shawn learn their lesson.”

The rest of the group clinked their glasses together, their spirits high. Cania and Selina shared a glance, the kind that needed no words. They were on the same page now, united not just by their shared frustration, but by their shared determination. Shawn was about to find out exactly what happened when you underestimated the power of women.

Meanwhile, across town, Shawn stood in a dark, wood-paneled bar, hunched over a pool table with a drink in his hand. He was surrounded by the rest of the guys—Harry, John Mason, and Joshua Brenton—each with their own drinks, laughing and chatting about everything from music to women. The faint smell of beer and whiskey filled the air, mixing with the low hum of conversation and the clatter of pool balls.

Shawn leaned back, taking a long sip of his whiskey before lining up his next shot. “You know, last night? I had both Selina and Cania wrapped around my finger. Same night, boys.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against the wall. “Mate, you’re a bloody legend.”

Shawn grinned, exaggerated confidence dripping from every word. “What can I say? I know how to play the game. Cania? Easy. She’s still got feelings for me. And Selina? She’s all over me now. They don’t even know I’ve got the other on the hook.”

John Mason raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Damn, man. That’s some serious juggling.”

Joshua, the youngest of the group, looked both amazed and envious. “You seriously played both of them in the same night? How do you even keep track of all that?”

Shawn shrugged, chalking his pool stick with a cocky grin. “It’s all about keeping them on their toes. You give them just enough attention to make them feel special, but not so much that they think they’ve got you locked down. That way, they keep coming back for more.”

The guys all laughed, clinking their glasses together in a toast to Shawn’s so-called success.

But just as Shawn was about to take his next shot, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen to see a message from Selina.

Selina: “Hey, want to meet tomorrow? I have something special planned for us. Lady Self Defense Studio at 3 PM. You won’t want to miss this 😉.”

Shawn blinked, raising an eyebrow as he read the message. “Lady Self Defense Studio?” he muttered to himself, slightly confused. Why would Selina want to meet him there? But then again, maybe it was just part of her quirky, independent charm. Maybe she wanted him to pick her up after class.

Shawn smirked to himself, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Whatever it was, he was sure it would end in his favor. After all, hadn’t it always?

The Next Day

Shawn parked his sleek black SUV in front of the Lady Self Defense Studio, the engine still humming softly as he stared at the building with a raised eyebrow. His curiosity was piqued, but he couldn’t quite shake the weird vibe about this place. What the hell is Selina doing here? he thought, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. He glanced up at the sign again, the words "Self Defense" bold and defiant. He chuckled to himself.

Self-defense, huh? What kind of place is this?

Stepping out of the car, Shawn adjusted his polo shirt, making sure it hugged his torso just right. His jeans were fitted, and he wore a casual smirk, that usual Shawn Peters confidence oozing from every inch of him. As he strode toward the entrance, his mind wandered to Selina, imagining her in some cute workout outfit, probably waiting for him to sweep her away for a romantic evening.

The moment he walked through the doors, he was greeted by a young receptionist sitting behind a sleek counter. She flashed a polite smile as he approached.

“Hi, I’m here for Selina,” Shawn said, leaning casually against the counter, flashing his usual charming smile.

The receptionist typed something into her computer, then looked back up at him. “She’ll be out in a moment. You can wait in the lounge over there.” She pointed to a cozy corner with a few chairs and a small coffee table.

“Sure, thanks.” Shawn made his way to the waiting area, but his eyes quickly darted to the posters on the walls. They were plastered with empowering slogans and images of women in various poses of strength and self-defense. One poster, in particular, caught his eye—a large, bold banner that read: "A Woman Can Beat Any Man. Don't Underestimate Her."

Shawn snorted, unable to contain his amusement. Really? This is the nonsense they’re feeding them here? He pulled out his phone and snapped a quick picture of the poster, sending it to his group chat with Harry, Joshua, and the other guys.

Shawn: “Look at this bullshit. They really think they can take us 😂.”

Within seconds, his phone buzzed with replies.

Joshua: “LMAO, delusional.”

Harry: “Bruv, you should sign up and show them who’s boss. They probably need a real man in there.”

Shawn chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he leaned back in the chair. His gaze fell on a guitar propped up in the corner, and without a second thought, he grabbed it, strumming a few chords. He started humming softly, falling into the familiar rhythm of one of his own songs.

“I know I can treat you better than he can… A girl like you deserves a gentleman…” he sang softly, his fingers gliding across the strings effortlessly.

Just as he lost himself in the music, the door to the changing room opened, and Selina stepped out, catching his attention. She was dressed in a tight black tank top, her toned arms on display, and a pair of shorts that clung perfectly to her hips. A headband pushed her hair back, giving her an athletic but still incredibly sexy vibe. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a fitness magazine, and Shawn’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, admiring the view.

“Shawn Peters,” she purred, walking over to him with a teasing grin. “Always singing the most romantic songs.”

He put the guitar down and stood up, towering over her as he leaned in, his lips brushing hers softly. “Well, you inspire me, babe,” he murmured, his voice low. “You ready to get out of here? We can grab dinner, maybe something more... private after.”

Selina giggled but pulled back slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “Actually, I’m just getting started.”

Shawn blinked, confused. “What do you mean? I thought you were done.”

Before he could say more, a woman’s voice interrupted them from behind the counter. “Selina, are you ready? The instructor is waiting, and it’s more effective with a sparring partner.”

Shawn frowned, glancing between Selina and the receptionist. “Sparring partner?”

Selina smiled sweetly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Yeah, the trainer thinks it would be great if I had someone to spar with. And since you’re here…” She let the sentence hang in the air.

Shawn raised an eyebrow, looking down at his clothes. “I’m wearing jeans and a polo, not exactly sparring gear, babe.”

Selina crossed her arms, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Oh come on, Shawn. This is a self-defense class, not a UFC fight. Besides, most of the evil men in the world wear polos and jeans, don’t they?” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Or are you afraid I might hurt that big, strong body of yours in class? Afraid of a little girl?”

Shawn’s ego flared instantly. He straightened up, his chest puffing out slightly. “Afraid? Me? Please, Selina.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s just… weird, that’s all. Why would I need to—”

Before he could finish, the receptionist chimed in with a sly smile. “Most of the men here are afraid, Mr. Peters. So, it’s not just you.”

Shawn’s eyes widened, a wave of indignation washing over him. “I’m not afraid,” he shot back quickly. “I’ll be the sparring partner. No problem. I’ll go easy though, you know, don’t wanna hurt anyone.” He chuckled, his confidence returning as he waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll use, like, ten percent of my skills. Gotta be careful—women are fragile.”

Selina smirked, giving him a look that was equal parts amusement and challenge. “Sure, Shawn. Let’s see how your ten percent holds up.”

They walked down the hall together, Shawn’s swagger returning as he looked around, still slightly bemused by the whole situation. The studio was lined with motivational posters, punching bags, and mats spread out across the floor. It all seemed harmless enough—until Selina gestured toward the far corner of the room.

“That’s my instructor,” she said, her voice casual but carrying an unmistakable edge.

Shawn followed her gaze, his eyes landing on the instructor. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropping as a wave of sheer panic crashed over him.

Cania.

She stood there, arms crossed, her body radiating strength and confidence. She wore a tight black sports bra and leggings, her dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail. The look on her face was unmistakable—cold, amused, and completely in control.

Shawn’s palms went clammy, his throat suddenly dry. His heart pounded as the reality of the situation set in. This wasn’t just some random self-defense instructor. This was Cania, the woman whose heart he’d toyed with, the woman he’d humiliated, the same woman he’d barely escaped from last time.

He could feel his pulse in his throat, panic bubbling up in his chest as he stood frozen in place.

Shit.

His mind raced as his hands instinctively moved to his pockets, a nervous habit he couldn’t shake. He could already feel the beads of sweat forming on his brow. There was no way out now. Not without looking like a complete coward. He could feel Selina’s eyes on him, watching, waiting for his next move.

“You okay, Shawn?” Selina asked, her voice full of mocking sweetness. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Shawn swallowed hard, forcing a weak smile. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just, uh, get started.”

But deep down, he wasn’t fine at all.

Shawn felt his throat tighten as he stood between the two women, his mind racing, heart pounding wildly in his chest. Despite every fiber of his body screaming to bolt out of the door, he forced a cool smirk onto his face, trying desperately to maintain control of the situation, even as his palms grew clammy.

"Cania," Shawn said, his voice uneven, betraying the anxiety creeping in, "what the hell is this?"

Cania stepped closer, her eyes glinting with something dangerous, a mischievous smirk on her lips. “What, Shawn? I’m just helping Selina, my new best friend, learn self-defense.” The words dripped with a venomous sweetness, and Shawn felt his stomach drop as she closed the distance between them.

Behind him, Shawn heard the faint click of the door locking. He whipped around to see Selina casually turning the key, a smile playing on her lips.

“Why is the door locked?” Shawn asked, his voice faltering for the first time as a cold sweat broke out across his brow.

Selina giggled, walking toward him with deliberate slowness. “Oh, so many men tend to run out of here once the real training starts. Thought we’d make sure you wouldn’t get any ideas, Shawnie.”

Cania, now right in front of him, reached up and lightly touched his face, her fingers grazing the sheen of sweat that had formed on his brow. “You’re sweating already? Too bad. The fun hasn’t even started yet.” Her tone was mocking, and she clicked her tongue as though she pitied him.

Shawn took a step back, swallowing hard, trying to regain control. “Alright, enough of this nonsense. Can we just talk? I can explain everything!”

Both women laughed softly, but it was the kind of laughter that chilled him to the core. The kind that said you’ve already lost.

"Explain what?" Cania asked, her voice playful as she tilted her head. “This is just a simple self-defense class. You know, for Selina. She told me a man lied to her and hurt her feelings. Maybe I could teach her how to give that man a little lesson, hmm?” She stepped closer, her eyes darting downward, and without warning, her fingers tapped Shawn right in the crotch.

Shawn’s body tensed, and he flinched visibly, his face contorting in pain and panic. “Ow! What the—” he stammered, his voice rising with shock.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Cania said, rolling her eyes. “That was just a tap.”

“But it freakin’ hurt!” Shawn whined, his voice cracking.

Selina laughed, covering her mouth. “Men…” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “They always act so tough, but one little tap—”

“Alright, Shawnie baby,” Cania interrupted, the pet name laced with sarcasm. “Stand up straight, you moron!” Her eyes narrowed as she pointed to a large poster hanging on the wall behind them. Shawn’s gaze followed, and he saw it—a graphic diagram of a man with circles around various weak points, with a headline reading "Know Their Weaknesses". It was a full-body breakdown of male vulnerabilities, with the groin area circled in red.

Shawn’s breath hitched as he took in the details. His eyes darted from the poster to Cania, whose smirk had deepened. The room felt smaller now, the air heavier, as if he were being cornered by two predators ready to pounce.

Cania sauntered closer, her voice soft but menacing. “You know, I learned self-defense back in Havana. First, you go for the nose—" she raised a fist, and Shawn instinctively brought his hands up to protect his face. “—break that, and he’ll never use that pretty face to charm women again.”

Shawn grimaced, stepping back again, his heart racing as Cania continued her ruthless lesson.

“Or you could go for the Adam’s apple,” she said, her hand brushing lightly against his throat, making him shudder. “One quick jab, and he won’t be able to breathe for a while.” She stepped back, tilting her head thoughtfully. “But you know where the real weakness is, don’t you, Shawnie?”

Shawn stiffened, knowing exactly what was coming but helpless to stop it.

“His junk,” Selina chimed in, pointing directly at the bulge in Shawn’s jeans with a wicked grin.

Cania clapped her hands together, her face lighting up as if she’d just remembered something delightful. “Exactly! The ultimate weakness! Men are so pathetically fragile because Mother Nature gave them these convenient little targets right between their legs.” She crouched slightly, eyeing Shawn’s crotch with a predatory gaze. “Testicles… so many nerves packed into such a small space. One good hit, and a man turns into a whimpering, helpless child.”

Selina giggled again, adding to the humiliation. “It’s like, all that bravado, all that muscle, and the moment you touch their precious jewels, they’re nothing. Just… crumbling to the ground.”

Shawn’s face flushed with both anger and shame. His breath quickened, and before he could stop himself, he shouted, “SHUT UP! Men aren’t your joke!”

But his outburst only seemed to amuse the two women more. Cania raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening as she slowly reached forward, her hand resting lightly on the front of his jeans. Shawn froze, his body locking up in sheer panic.

“Oh, we’re not joking, Peters,” Cania whispered, her voice dripping with cruel delight. “You think you can play us like fools? Lie to us? And we won’t make you feel a little… discomfort?”

And before Shawn could react, Cania’s hand tightened. She squeezed his balls, hard, sending a shockwave of searing pain shooting through his body. Shawn’s eyes bulged as the breath was knocked from his lungs. He doubled over, his face contorting into an expression of pure agony, his hands flying down instinctively to protect himself, but it was too late.

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” Shawn let out a guttural scream, his knees buckling as he dropped to the floor, clutching his crotch in a futile attempt to alleviate the pain.

Selina and Cania stood over him, their laughter ringing out through the small studio.

“That’s for lying to us, Shawn,” Cania said, her voice icy as she watched him writhe on the ground, gasping for breath. “And that was just a little taste.”

Shawn was shaking, his vision blurring as the pain radiated through his entire body. His mind was spinning, his ego shattered. He could hear them laughing, mocking him, their voices blurring together in his mind. He couldn’t believe what was happening—two women he had thought he could control, now towering over him, taking pleasure in his misery.

“Looks like he’s learned a thing or two about his own weaknesses,” Selina said, smirking down at him.

Shawn's breath came in short, panicked gasps as he lay on the cold floor, his body trembling with a mixture of fear and pain. His mind raced, but his body was frozen. The sharp, searing ache from Cania’s brutal squeeze had knocked every ounce of confidence out of him, leaving him feeling small and helpless. He looked up at the two women towering over him, his lips trembling.

“P-please,” he stammered, his voice shaking. “Cania... Selina... stop, I’m begging you.”

But his words only seemed to fuel their laughter. Cania raised an eyebrow, clearly relishing his desperation. “You’re begging now, Peters? I thought you were the big, tough pop star who could charm any woman.”

Shawn tried to push himself up, but his body betrayed him, trembling with weakness. He started crawling, desperate to put some distance between himself and their mocking glares. His hands scrambled on the floor, but before he could get far, he felt a sudden yank on the back of his jeans.

Selina had grabbed the waistband of his jeans and, to his horror, his tighty-whities. In one swift motion, she yanked hard, giving him a savage wedgie. The fabric of his underwear pulled painfully against his groin, tugging his already sensitive balls in a way that sent a fresh wave of agony shooting through his lower body.

“AHHHHHHHH! No, no! Stop!” Shawn screamed, his voice breaking as his body jolted from the sharp pain.

His hands flew back to his groin, but it was no use—Selina’s grip was firm, and with another tug, his underwear dug deeper into his skin, pulling tight against his most sensitive area. His face contorted in pain as the pressure in his balls grew unbearable, his eyes filling with tears.

"Baby, please... have mercy!" he whimpered, his voice strained and pathetic.

But instead of mercy, the girls erupted into laughter, their amusement echoing cruelly in the small studio. Cania smirked, crossing her arms as she watched him writhe. “Mercy? Oh, Shawn, you really think we’re going to give you mercy after what you did to us?” She turned to Selina, laughing harder. “Isn’t ‘Mercy’ one of his songs? How ironic.”

Selina grinned wickedly, still holding his jeans and underwear tight. “No more mercy, Shawn.” And with that, she released the fabric and shoved him, flipping him over onto his back in one swift motion.

Shawn landed hard, his body splayed out on the floor, helpless beneath them. His breath hitched as he looked up at Selina, his mind spinning in panic.

“NO, NO, NO!” Shawn gasped, realizing what was about to happen as Selina placed her foot between his legs, hovering just over his already aching crotch. His hands flew to his groin, but he wasn’t fast enough to protect himself. Before he could even register the horror, Selina’s foot came down—hard.

The impact was brutal, her foot stomping directly onto his balls, pinning them between the unforgiving sole of her shoes and the cold floor beneath him. The denim of his blue jeans provided no protection, and the agony that followed was immediate and overwhelming.

Shawn’s entire body convulsed. His eyes bulged, his mouth opened wide in a silent scream as every muscle in his body seized up. Then, the scream ripped from his throat, desperate and primal.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” His voice cracked, raw and pathetic, echoing through the room as tears streamed down his face. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a crushing, unbearable force that radiated through every nerve in his body. His hands shot down to his crotch, but it was too late—his balls were trapped, crushed under Selina’s weight.

His legs kicked out involuntarily, his body jerking in spasms as his mind tried to process the pain. His vision blurred with tears as he whimpered, “D-Daddy! Help me! Please! Oh God, it hurts! It hurts so bad...”

Selina smirked, the cruel satisfaction in her eyes only growing as she twisted her foot slightly, grinding down just enough to make Shawn’s entire body spasm with a fresh jolt of pain.

“I told you, Shawn,” she said, her voice cold. “No more mercy.”

Shawn’s cries echoed through the room, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he lay there, sobbing. “Please... stop... it’s too much... I can’t take it...”

But his begging fell on deaf ears. Selina looked down at him, satisfied, and then nodded toward Cania. “You’re up next, Cania. You deserve some revenge too.”

Cania didn’t need to be told twice. Without hesitation, she stepped forward, her eyes dark with intent as she looked down at Shawn’s crumpled form. She bent down, grabbing him by the arms, her grip firm and unyielding as she pulled him into position.

“No... no, Cania, please...” Shawn whimpered, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...”

But Cania’s smirk only deepened. “Sorry doesn’t fix what you did to us, Shawnie.” She stepped over him, positioning her foot right above his already bruised and aching balls. Shawn’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what was coming.

“No! Please!” he gasped, his eyes wide with terror. But before he could even think of protecting himself, Cania’s foot came down with brutal force.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” Shawn’s scream pierced the air again, louder this time, his entire body arching off the floor as his balls took the full brunt of the stomp. His face contorted into a grotesque expression of agony, his mouth wide open, his eyes bulging as the pain overwhelmed him.

The crushing pressure on his groin made it feel like his insides were being ripped apart. His hands clawed at the floor, his legs twitching uncontrollably as wave after wave of excruciating pain shot through his body. His vision blurred, and his breath came in ragged gasps as his brain struggled to cope with the sheer intensity of it.

He made one last pathetic whimper before his eyes rolled back in his head, and his body went limp. His hands slackened, his legs spread awkwardly, and his mouth hung open in a stupid, slack-jawed expression of defeat. Shawn Peters, the pop star with the golden voice and confident swagger, lay unconscious on the floor, completely broken.

30 Minutes Later

Shawn woke up groggily, his head pounding as he blinked his eyes open. His vision was blurry at first, but as it cleared, he realized he wasn’t lying on the floor anymore. He was tied to a chair, his hands cuffed behind his back, and his legs were spread wide, painfully exposed. Panic surged through him as he struggled against the restraints, but it was no use. He was completely helpless.

The room was different now. There were a few women in the background—dancers, by the looks of it—chatting and laughing as they moved around, preparing for something. Shawn’s heart raced, his breath quickening as he looked around frantically, trying to figure out what was happening.

And then he saw them—Cania and Selina, standing in front of him with smug smiles on their faces.

Selina crossed her arms, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she looked down at him. “Oh, good. You’re awake.”

Shawn’s mouth felt dry as he croaked out, “Wh-what’s going on?”

Cania stepped forward, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “We’ve decided to collaborate, Shawnie. You know, combine our creative talents. And guess what? You’re going to be the star of our next music video.”

Shawn’s stomach dropped, his mind spinning. “What... what do you mean?”

Selina grinned, her eyes cold and calculating. “This.” She gestured to the dancers in the room. “This is the setup for our next big project. You, tied to that chair, are the centerpiece of the video. The guy who played with fire and got burned. And trust me, it’s going to be epic.”

Shawn’s heart raced, fear clawing at his throat as the reality of the situation set in. He tugged at the cuffs, his voice rising in panic. “No... no, you can’t be serious...”

But the cruel smiles on their faces told him everything he needed to know.

And for the first time in his life, Shawn Peters was truly afraid of the consequences.

THE MUSIC VIDEO

Title: "Kick His Balls" by Selina & Cania

The music video opened with a sharp beat, the camera zooming in on Selina and Cania as they strutted confidently into the room, their heels clicking on the hard floor, each step exuding power and grace. The dancers in the background lined up behind them, ready to spring into action as the beat dropped, setting the stage for the girl-power anthem about to unfold.

The music video concept was simple yet electrifying: a satirical, over-the-top takedown of male ego, centered around a catchy chorus that left no room for subtlety. The choreography? A mix of fierce, synchronized dance moves and staged (and some not-so-staged) humiliations of Shawn Peters, the "star" of the video.

Verse 1 (Selina): (Selina swayed to the beat, her voice sultry and dripping with mockery as she circled around Shawn, who was still bound to the chair.)

🎶 "He thought he had the upper hand,
Playin' girls like they’re in the band,
But little did he know, we’re in command,
And now it’s time for him to understand..." 🎶

As Selina sang, she teasingly ruffled Shawn’s hair, laughing as he squirmed in his restraints. Her movements were deliberate, her body moving in sync with the dancers behind her, who mimicked her actions. Shawn’s eyes darted nervously from one dancer to the next, his breath quickening as he sensed what was coming.

Chorus (Cania & Selina): (The beat kicked up a notch as the girls jumped into the explosive chorus, their voices harmonizing with a taunting edge. They moved with sharp, confident choreography, every movement punctuated by a stomp or a kick.)

🎶 "Kick his balls, make him fall,
Watch him beg, watch him crawl,
No more lies, no more games,
Time to feel the girl power pain!" 🎶

On the word "kick," both Selina and Cania spun toward Shawn, and with perfectly timed coordination, they each swung their leg out, mock-kicking near his groin, just inches away. Shawn flinched visibly, his body instinctively curling inward as the dancers behind them cheered and clapped, emphasizing the mock attack.

Verse 2 (Cania): (Cania stepped forward, her voice sultry but with a razor-sharp edge as she took over the next verse. She moved closer to Shawn, her eyes never leaving his, as she leaned down to whisper into his ear.)

🎶 "He thought he’d get away with lies,
But we’ve got him cornered, no disguise,
Watch him crumble, watch him fall,
Gonna parade him like a dog down the hall..." 🎶

Cania reached down, grabbing Shawn by his balls and yanking him to his feet with surprising force. The dancers formed a line, cheering and clapping as she paraded him around the room, one hand gripping his waistband while the other mockingly cupped his balls through his jeans.

Shawn stumbled as Cania pulled him forward, his face twisted in a mixture of embarrassment and agony. Every step sent shockwaves of pain through him, but the cheers and jeers from the dancers drowned out his groans. Canias smiled wickedly as she gestured to the dancers.

Bridge (Selina): (Selina’s her voice playful as she watched Cania drag Shawn around like a trophy. The music slowed down for a moment, building tension as the camera focused on Selina’s mischievous grin.)

🎶 "Boys think they're strong, but it's all a show,
Hit 'em where it hurts, and down they go,
A little tap, a little stomp,
Watch their ego pop, pop, pop..." 🎶

As Selina finished the verse, she raised her leg and swung it forward, her foot landing directly on Shawn’s groin, sending him stumbling forward. He let out a choked gasp, his face contorting in pain as the dancers behind him burst into laughter. Shawn fell to his knees, clutching his crotch, but the performance wasn’t over yet.

Chorus (Repeat) (Cania & Selina with Dancers): (The dancers now formed a line, each waiting their turn as the chorus picked up again.)

🎶 "Kick his balls, make him fall,
Watch him beg, watch him crawl,
No more lies, no more games,
Time to feel the girl power pain!" 🎶

One by one, the dancers took turns stepping up to Shawn, delivering swift, choreographed kicks to his groin as they sang along with the chorus. Shawn’s body jerked and spasmed with each hit, his face twisted in agony as he let out strangled cries, his knees buckling under the relentless assault.

Selina’s Special Moment: (The camera zoomed in on Selina, who smirked down at Shawn as she delivered the final blow of the sequence.)

Selina hopped onto Shawn’s back, sitting on him like a queen on her throne. “Come on, Shawnie, walk,” she cooed mockingly as she snapped her fingers. Humiliated and broken, Shawn, now on all fours, began crawling as Selina perched on his back, bouncing slightly and laughing. “Good boy,” she giggled, making him bark like a dog for the camera.

Selina’s voice was smooth and mocking as she leaned forward and slapped his butt. “That’s right, Shawnie. You’re nothing but a little pet.”

Finale (Climactic Ending): (For the grand finale, the girls coordinated their final move, the ultimate power play. The camera zoomed out, showing both Selina and Cania standing over Shawn as he lay on the ground, his legs spread wide. The dancers gathered around, clapping and cheering as the music built to its crescendo.)

🎶 "Kick his balls, make him fall,
Watch him beg, watch him crawl,
No more lies, no more games,
Time to feel the girl power pain!" 🎶

As the last line hit, Selina and Cania looked at each other, grinning wickedly. They positioned themselves on either side of Shawn’s splayed-out body, their feet hovering directly above his groin.

Shawn, eyes wide with panic, started to whimper. “No… no… please, no!” His voice was desperate, pleading, but it was drowned out by the triumphant music and the cheers of the dancers.

In perfect synchronization, Selina and Cania stomped down hard, their feet crushing his balls under their shoes. Shawn’s scream was deafening, his eyes bulging as the pain radiated through his entire body. His mouth hung open in a grotesque expression of shock and agony, his body twitching uncontrollably.

The camera zoomed in on Shawn’s face, capturing every ounce of his pain as his body convulsed beneath them. His breathing came in ragged gasps, his voice barely a whisper as he muttered, “Daddy… help me…”

Outro: The music slowed to a sultry beat as the camera pulled back, showing Selina and Cania standing over Shawn’s broken form, their feet still resting triumphantly on his crotch. The dancers surrounded them, clapping and cheering as the final shot faded to black. The words "Girl Power Reigns" flashed on the screen, a fitting end to their anthem of female domination.

Shawn lay on the bed, a pile of pillows propped behind his head as he gingerly adjusted the ice pack resting on his still-tender groin. His face contorted in a mixture of pain and frustration as he shifted uncomfortably, his fingers clutching the remote. The TV flickered with bright colors, but Shawn was barely paying attention. That is, until the segment on the screen caught his attention—a familiar tune began playing, and his stomach twisted as he recognized the beat.

The female presenter, a polished, glamorous woman in a fitted suit, smiled brightly into the camera, speaking with animated energy.

"And in today's viral music news, ‘Kick His Balls’ by Selina and Cania continues to dominate the charts and social media, becoming a worldwide sensation!" She waved her hands for emphasis, the screen cutting to clips from the music video—the same video where he had been humiliated beyond belief.

Shawn groaned inwardly, wincing as the painful memory of that day came flooding back. He pressed the ice pack harder against his crotch, as though trying to soothe both his physical pain and his wounded pride.

"Of course," the presenter continued, her tone conspiratorial, "the two pop divas have assured the public that the song is completely hypothetical, just a playful feminist anthem. When asked if the song had anything to do with a certain famous male singer—" The presenter winked at the camera, "—Selina and Cania laughed it off, saying, ‘Shawn Peters isn’t that pathetic. It’s all in good fun.’"

Shawn’s jaw clenched. Yeah, right, he thought bitterly, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the screen transitioned to an interview with random women on the street.

One woman in her twenties smirked directly into the camera. “Oh, I loved the video,” she said with a gleam in her eye. “Honestly? Men deserve to be treated like trash sometimes, 'cause most of them are trash.”

Another woman, older and wearing business attire, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s about time we see something like this. Men need to know they’re not untouchable. They act all tough, but we know their weak spots.” She laughed, rolling her eyes as though the idea of male strength was the punchline of a joke.

Shawn's cheeks burned with humiliation, and he sank deeper into the pillows, gripping the remote like a lifeline. His mind raced, filled with frustration and shame. The worst part? The song was everywhere, and even though Cania and Selina had claimed it was all hypothetical, he knew better. He was that pathetic—at least in the eyes of the world.

Just then, the door to the bedroom creaked open, and in walked Cania, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She was carrying a small tray with a fresh ice pack, Shawn’s medication, and a bottle of water. Her movements were fluid, casual, as though the sight of Shawn lying there like a wounded puppy was completely normal.

“Hey there, superstar,” Cania said with a teasing lilt, setting the tray down on the bedside table. “How are the, uh, precious jewels doing?”

Shawn grumbled, shifting slightly. “They’re… getting better,” he muttered, though his voice carried a hint of bitterness.

Cania giggled, clearly amused as she passed him the fresh ice pack. “You should be thanking us, you know. Selina and I saved your ass when the media asked if that song was about you. We told them it was acting. Hypothetical.”

Shawn gave a weak nod, swallowing his pride. “Yeah… thanks for that,” he murmured, though deep down, he knew how humiliating it still was. He watched as Cania refilled his glass of water, her playful grin never leaving her face.

She suddenly leaned in, her voice dropping to a mockingly sweet tone. “But I think you do owe us more than a thank you.” And before Shawn could react, she reached down and gave his balls a quick, sharp slap.

Shawn yelped, his body jerking instinctively as the ice pack tumbled off the bed. His hands flew down to his groin, a pained expression twisting his face. “C-Cania! Seriously?!”

Cania only laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, her expression softening. “Shawn, come on, you know I’m just teasing.” She leaned back, her eyes studying him with a mixture of affection and something more serious. “But honestly… we need to talk.”

Shawn, still wincing, nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

There was a long pause before Cania spoke again, her voice quieter this time. “I know it probably sounds stupid, but I’ve been thinking a lot… about us. About everything. And I’m not going to pretend what you did didn’t hurt. You played me, Shawn. You lied. But…” She hesitated, her gaze softening as she reached out to gently take his hand. “We’ve loved each other since we were sixteen. That doesn’t just go away.”

Shawn’s heart tightened at her words. He could hear the sincerity in her voice, and it cut through his ego like a knife. “I know I messed up,” he admitted, his voice low. “I was stupid, and I let my pride get in the way. But, Cania… I love you. I never stopped.”

Cania’s eyes flickered with emotion, and she smiled faintly. “I love you too, Shawn. But you have to understand… this macho, masculine crap you’ve been pulling? It’s not you. Not the real you. That sweet boy I fell in love with isn’t the guy who plays women to stroke his ego. He’s better than that. And I want that guy back.” She placed her hand on his chest, her voice firm. “Don’t let this whole ‘manhood’ thing blind you. Men are weak, Shawn. We both know it.”

Shawn looked into her eyes, feeling a weight lifting off his chest. “I know. I’ve been an idiot. I just… I got caught up in trying to prove something.”

Cania’s lips curled into a teasing smile, her fingers brushing lightly over his cheek. “Well, just remember this: You’re mine, Peters. And I’m the boss.” She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “I can ruin your balls anytime I want. So, you better be a good boy.”

Shawn’s eyes widened at her words, his face flushing with a mixture of fear and something else he didn’t want to admit. She reached down, gently squeezing his still-tender balls as if to remind him of the power she held.

Involuntarily, Shawn let out a soft, pathetic, “Woof.”

Cania burst out laughing, pulling back to look at him with an amused grin. “That’s right. Good boy.” She patted his cheek affectionately and stood up, her expression softer now, though the teasing edge never quite left.

As she turned to leave the room, Shawn lay back, staring up at the ceiling, slowly realizing the truth of his situation. He was no longer in control—not of his relationship, not of himself. And for the first time, that fact didn’t terrify him. He loved Cania. But now, he knew—he was hers, completely. And deep down, part of him knew he always had been.

 (I used AI to help with the grammar and vocab choice)