There's this guy in our town called Nick. He is, to put it politely, a nasty piece of shit. He's the type of character who would rather steal a dollar instead of earning ten. You can hear the bleeding hearts crying and saying it's not his fault. Society is to blame. I have news for the bleeding hearts. It is his fault.
Nick came from a respectable family. His parents are very nice people. He has a brother and a sister and they are very nice people. Nick isn't. He's just as likely to steal from his family as to steal from anyone else. Likelier, he sees more of them. He's not supporting a drug habit, which might have gone a way towards explaining it. He just steals because he can. He's also into muscle building and considers himself to be rough and tough.
One of my next door neighbours is a young lady by the name of Simone. She's eighteen, quite pretty, with a very nice figure. She has a lovely mind, always willing to see the best in everyone, even Nick. She is also a little naïve, not believing that anyone could have ill intentions towards her.
All things considered, Simone was just the sort of person that Nick would feel free to victimise. Her parents had warned her away from Nick, telling her flatly that he was not to be trusted. This was one of the few times that I've known Simone to go against her parent's wishes. She was seeing Nick on the sly.
As far as I could tell it was currently just a getting to know you relationship. Knowing Nick and his past behaviour, known and suspected (but unproven), it wouldn't be all that long before he made a move on Simone and she wouldn't know what hit her.
I wasn't worried about her being seduced. She was eighteen and, seduction wise, she was on her own. This is where Nick's rather steal than work philosophy came in. He wouldn't want to work at seducing Simone, where he had a fair chance of succeeding. He'd want to take, ignoring her wishes. A refusal would act as a spur.
The whole thing came to a head one Saturday afternoon. Simone and Nick came strolling along and went into Simone's place. I knew that her parents were out and probably wouldn't be back for hours. Simone was probably thinking that she and Nick could have some private time in comfort, possibly with a bit of kissing and petting going on.
I knew damn well what Nick would do. He wouldn't be able to resist. Now I liked Simone. If Nick behaved himself and contented himself with a little seduction then that was Simone's lookout. She was an adult. If he wanted to flex his muscles and grab then that was a different situation and she would be entitled to a little assistance.
Knowing Simone, there would be no way known she'd take him down to her bedroom. That naive she was not. No, they'd be in the front room. I strolled over to her place and waited on the front veranda, noting that the front door hadn't been closed properly. Fortunate. I'd have hated to have to break it.
Nick, it turned out, was even greedier than I thought. Not even a minute had passed before I hear a sharp cry of protest, followed by a scream that was abruptly cut off. I walked in.
Simone was standing there, blouse torn open, holding her cheek where a red mark glowed. Nick had one hand gripping the front of her bra in the act of ripping it off, his other hand clenched into a threatening fist.
Both of them were looking at me, frozen in that position. Nick got his act together first. He pushed Simone away and she went staggering back, finishing up leaning against a wall.
"I think Simone would like you to leave now," I said, keeping it polite.
"I think I'd like you to leave," Nick came back. "Healthier for all concerned, you know."
Would you believe the little shit pulled a knife on me? Now I'm not a knife fighter. Wouldn't know how to duel with knives if you paid me. What I did know was glazing, seeing that was my trade. Did you know that glaziers wear steel-capped boots? Saves you from losing toes if you drop a sheet of glass. Nick found out the hard way.
No. I didn't kick him in the googlies. While effective, it takes too long. He was within reach so I kicked him sharply in the shin. He gave a yowl and grabbed at his leg, which is when I kicked him even harder in the other shin. I don't think I broke anything but Nick hit the deck.
Unfortunately, he still had a very firm grasp on his knife. Unfortunate for him, that is. I ground a number ten work boot down on his hand and extracted the knife from a hand that didn't seem able to hold onto it.
"Please hold the front door open, Simone," I requested and as soon as she had done so I gave Nick the bum's rush, pitching him off the veranda.
"I will be advising Simone to press formal charges," I told him, standing over him. "I will also be pressing charges for attempted assault with a lethal weapon. Now, piss off before I break something."
Nick bolted, as well as anyone can bolt when they're hobbling along on two very badly bruised legs. (I'm almost positive I didn't break anything. If I did I guess he'd find out.)
I stalked back into the house and gave Simone an angry male glare. Without speaking I moved her hand away from her cheek and inspected the damage. Just red, I guessed, and no bruising. A warning slap rather than a solid clout. Satisfied that she was more embarrassed and upset than hurt I smiled at her.
"The lecture will now begin," I said, and she winced.
"You do realise that you'll have to report this to the police," I pointed out.
"Why?"
"Because if you don't he'll think you're too scared to and will come back at you or, with his ego, think that you like him too much to report him and will come back at you. Not to think what he might do to other girls he might go out with. A sharp reminder now might protect someone else later."
She grumbled and complained but I was fairly sure that she'd lodge an official report. I certainly intended to. And I had to hand the cretin's knife in to the cops. If he wanted it back he could approach them and ask for it.
"What the hell were you thinking of, inviting him home when your parents are out? You know what they think of him and you also know his reputation. I thought your father strongly suggested that you don't see him again?"
"He's not as bad as people say," Simone protested. "If something goes wrong they blame him and it's not fair."
"Says the girl he just attacked," I pointed out. "The reason people blame him is because generally speaking he is to blame. He is an evil little man who will take unconscionable advantage of everyone and everything around him. Did you know that he's been banned from owning a pet due to the way he treats them?"
"He's really very nice underneath," Simone protested. "Maybe I led him on without realising it. I must be partly to blame."
"That the way a victim talks. How is it your fault that you're an attractive female? Did any of your other boyfriends attack you like that? I suspect not. It was one hundred percent Nick's fault and he did it deliberately and with malice aforethought. Do you know how I was able to come to such a timely rescue?"
It was obvious that she hadn't even considered that. She looked confused.
"I could see what he intended by the way he was looking at you as the pair of you walked down the path. He had it planned out before he set one foot inside the house. How is that your fault?"
She chewed on her lip, not wanting to concede anything but having to admit that I was right.
"You do know that your dad is going to ground you until you're thirty once he finds out what happened?"
"You're not going to tell him, surely?"
"No. You are. I suggest you think up a way to put a positive spin on it and he might let you off lightly."
I had no doubt that she'd find a way to explain that would lay the blame on Nick and get her off as a poor innocent who heroically defended her honour.
"Just make a note for the future that if a man slaps you around and says it's your fault, he's lying. It's a poor sort of man who beats up a woman. If a man needs to discipline a woman he should be capable of putting her across his knee and paddling her backside without resort to being rough with her."
"What? Surely that's the same thing?"
"Certainly not. Now when I put you across my knee and paddle your pretty little tush for being an idiot it will be a specific punishment for a specific crime that you know you committed. You won't finish up bruised and battered but you will have a sore tail. How's your cheek?"
"OK," she said, touching it lightly.
Then she did a double take.
"What do you mean, when you put me across your knee? You're not spanking me."
"There, you see? You're not a victim but someone standing up for herself. There are only two ways that I could spank you right now."
Simone looked at me suspiciously, which she had every right to do.
"What do you mean?"
"Well the first way would be to use my superior strength to just haul you across my knee and batter your bottom. I can't really do that because I'd be no better than Nick, forcing you to endure an unwanted assault."
"And the second way?" she asked warily.
I grinned and sat down on the couch.
"The second way is to point out that you screwed up and you know you screwed up. Some sort of penalty is in order. So why don't you place yourself across my lap and I'll deliver the penalty."
She stared at me, looking slightly shocked.
"You don't really expect me to bend over and get spanked, surely?"
"Um, do or don't I? You know, I really think I do. A good spanking on your bare bottom will probably do you a world of good. It'll make you feel a lot better about the whole incident. And you can point out to your father that you've already been punished and he won't need to ground you."
"Are you mad? How could I possibly tell my father that you spanked me? And why on a bare bottom?"
Questions were good. It meant she was seriously considering the idea, even if she didn't know it.
"The jury is out on my madness. How or if you tell your father is your problem, not mine. A bare bottom because it's more fun for the person doing the spanking. You have a very attractive tush."
From the look on her face she didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered by that last bit. She nobly rose above it and ignored it.
