Thread: Mortar and Pestle (Decadence & Rawr Kitten)

Darren kept silent as Lena administered her tour for him. Wherever they went, he only nodded, taking note while his mind continued to boil over his impression of Carol, his new boss . His heart raced in his chest, and it nearly jack-hammered its way out of his sternum from how rapid it was beating. His palms were sweaty in his hand. Something about this woman disturbed him, and it filled him with a sense of uneasy dread. Once Lena showed him where the restrooms were, he immediately excused himself to make his way inside. He was relieved to find out that he was alone there. The fluorescent lighting cast a sterile, bright shine over his features. Really, he looked more anemic than anything else. He turned on the faucet, rinsing his clammy hands, wiping his face with both hands, trying to get his mind off Carol and her iron fist. He just couldn't. Back when he was in High School on the wrestling team, Darren was challenged to a co-ed match by one of the female wrestlers. She wasn't necessarily tough or butch, just more quiet and reserved and was a little below his weight. Darren felt that he could easily take her just because she was a girl and was also a grade below him. Well, they began their match, in front of his entire team, and she immediately pinned him down, rendering him helpless from an effective leg lock. Okay, he thought, as he was being humiliated by her, so she got lucky, and he was merely overestimating her. Second try, same thing, except she had him in a choke hold within seconds. Third time was a struggle, and his mind was so preoccupied by shame, it was hard to focus, and she twisted his arm, nearly breaking it. No matter how hard he tried, he could never get a good hold on her. She was always one step ahead of him. Match after match this went on, until he had to accept the fact that he was simply outmatched by this girl. Darren gave up wrestling after that, and the teasing from his old teammates lasted for years. Yet, despite all of that, in the mix of all of that rage and shame from that afternoon, he would get that same feeling from recalling it, as though it were a rush. Rapid heartbeat, sweaty hands, and... He crossed his legs, blinking in the mirror. His eyes shifted around nervously, giving himself relief when he confirmed that there was nobody else here to watch him to judge him. He was beginning to blush. And the solid, rising erection in his pants began to rise, stiffening while it grew warm from the thought of Car-- He sighed hard, shuddering. He washed his hands again, wiping them together vigorously as though he could wash away what he just felt. He couldn't could he? It was a part of him, and he knew it--NO, IT WAS NOT! His eyes rose to meet his in the mirror. You got this, Darren. Oh, she's only on top because...okay, maybe she's worked hard to earn it, and so she does deserve it. Respectable, okay. But you're a man, Darren, and you're good at this job. Soon enough, you'll get your shot at being manager, and you can show this bitch that you're a real man who can lead and be a positive example to his community. It's how it should be. The traditional gender roles must return, and Darren was just doing his small part in a much larger struggle to reclaim the glory men once had before they were raised by mom. But still...still, something in the back of his mind could not agree with this. Darren silenced that odd warmth and turned to face the cold, harsh reality that awaited him outside the door. Hardship. That was what it took to be a real man.