Thomas Cook, a single man with some radical ideas [Prince Cai]

Grinding his teeth, Tom watched the pair of women saunter towards his stall of baked goods, smirking to each other between hungry glances his way. Working any storefront as a man, you learned quickly what kind of female customers were going to give you trouble, and these two pretty much ticked every box. They had that kind of arrogant swagger that told him they thought they were God's gift to men, their smart suits and slick, styled hair suggesting that they worked in one of the office blocks down the road, probably high up the corporate ladder. So much the worse for him. Older women used to throwing their authority around tended to take rejection even worse than the rest, or just ignore it entirely. In his weekly meetings with the local Masculinist group he'd recently joined, it was one of the most common complaints the other guys had. And no-one seemed to know what to do about it either.

"Hey Crumbles boy..." One of them cooed as she sidled up to his store, a tall blonde who had to have a good ten years or more on him. "My friend think you're kind of cute, you know that?"

"Thank you, ma'am." Tom replied, forcing a strained smile. Be polite, he warned himself...he couldn't risk another scene. He only had this job by the skin of his teeth and there was no way he was giving these two the satisfaction of seeing him fired for standing up to them. "Would you like to try our new selection of chocolate chip brownies?" He waved his hand limply towards the selection of gooey baked treats. "Freshly-baked today, that's a Crumble's promise." Thank God his manager was off on break right now, or she'd have accused him later of not saying the slogan of this stupid chain with enough pep.

"I don't know." The second woman smirked, not even bothering to pretend to look at the brownies. She was tanned and black-haired, her dark eyes gleaming hungrily as they ran down his body. "I think there's something else here I'd really rather nibble on instead." She leered at him, baring teeth. Tom stared blankly back, deciding that pretending he didn't understand anything they said was his best bet. He had no idea where women got the idea that stupid lines and disgusting behavior was going to make him want to go home with them, but it was all they ever tried. Some variety at least in the ways they hit on him would be nice. "Come on sweetheart, at least smile." The woman sighed. Tom bristled under his apron, but his lips to curl into the same strained smile. Polite...he had to be polite. It was so unfair! He had to smile and play along while this vile misandrist pig treated him like dirt. Worse, she was just the type to think his faked politeness meant he was somehow happy to have her leer and objectify him. "That's better." She grinned back, clearly thinking just what he'd feared she would. "Boys should always look cute. That's why you're here, isn't it, dressed in that adorable pink apron looking like the perfect little snack? To look cute and make women like me want to take a bite of your delicious....brownies." Her arm slipped forward and Tom yelped out as she grabbed him by the wrist over the stall. He was so shocked at her daring that he just froze, and by her hungry smile and gentle stroking of his wrist she somehow took that as willing consent to whatever she wanted.

"Please, ma'am." He squirmed back, just managing to pull his hand free of her clammy grip before she tightened it. "If you're not here to buy anything, can you please step aside so that other customers can look?"

"Oh, I think we got a little tease over here." The blonde chuckled roughly, watching all this with a cold smile. "Careful Sandra!"

"Get back here boy, right now!" The tanned woman snapped. "I wasn't finished with you." She looked actually angry, as though she'd taken his feeble attempt to shake her off as some kind of deep, personal insult. The way she'd switched from leering lust to vicious female fury so fast had his head spinning. Fuck...fuck...fuck, Tom stayed where he was, shivering behind the counter. His nervous eyes flickered over the empty food-court. As much as he hated his Manager's leering eyes and wandering hands, at least if she came back from break she might step in and stop this, if she didn't think watching him get abused was funny again. Why, oh why, did women only back off when another of their sex got involved? Couldn't they understand that he had feelings too? That he didn't want this.... "I said back!" The businesswoman growled.

Tom hated himself for it, but he just wanted her to stop being mad at him, and maybe playing nice was the only way. For all his heartfelt beliefs that men should try and stand up for themselves and make more of a fuss in situations like these, he'd always been terrified of angry women. They were just so much stronger and more forceful than he could ever be, what else was he supposed to do? It wasn't like she'd listen if he tried to tell her again that he wasn't interested. Women never did. Maybe if he was lucky this time he could just palm her off with a fake number and a promise to meet later, and she wouldn't come back to complain. If he was unlucky...well, he didn't want to think about that. His head bowed, the young man shuffled forward.

"That's better..." The woman smiled thinly, that moment of vicious anger vanishing as quickly as it had come. "Come right here, you teasing little slut, so Momma can get a nice good look at you. I want to see just what you're hiding under that adorable apron, and maybe have a feel of it too." Her rough, barking laughter made him shudder under his apron, as he silently prayed she'd at least keep her hands above his clothes this time.

"Is there a problem here?" A sharp, female voice snapped, cutting across the stall.