Debra had heard a few rumours about Peter, but she had tended to discount them. He had always been nice to her, unfailing kind and polite. And not ungenerous she'd noted, often paying for an extra round of drinks when it wasn't his turn.
He was generally popular with both sexes, but some of the women seemed to avoid him, which was probably what gave rise to the rumours.
When Peter asked her out, Debra was pleased to accept but, remembering the whispers, she did take a few minor precautions. There first few dates were always in public places and she never went back to his place afterwards, keeping things light and waiting to see how it all developed.
She had to admit that he certainly knew how to kiss and he was also rather free with his hands, but he never seemed to get upset when she pushed them away. All in all, he came across as no worse than some others she'd dated and definitely better than a couple.
When Peter pointed out that it was a beautiful day and that they should go on a picnic instead of going to a show, Debra readily agreed, It was spring, after all, and with a warm breeze blowing and a cloudless sky it seemed a jaunt into the countryside was a very good idea. Peter happened to know of a picnic ground a little off the beaten track where they could enjoy themselves quietly.
The problem started as soon as they reached Peter's picnic ground. Debra had noticed there were no other cars around when they pulled up, so didn't really object when Peter pulled her over towards him and started kissing her. She'd been expecting a few, and even looking forward to them, but not before they even had a chance to get out of the car. Still, she relaxed and kissed him back.
When Peter's hands started their wandering Debra gave a mental sigh and pushed them away. Unfortunately, Peter refused to take the hint, and his hands became ever more insistent, pulling at her clothes and trying to get under them. It wasn't long and Debra found herself battling to keep her clothes on, with Peter totally ignoring her demands that he cut it out.
Groping behind her for the door handle, Debra jerked hard on it and practically fell out of the car in her haste. Peter on the other hand just casually opened his door and stepped out, coming around the car to meet her, smirking.
"That's enough, Peter," snapped Debra. "You're coming on a bit too strong. Just back off a little, please."
"I don't think so," was the reply. "We're all alone out here and it's time you paid your dues."
Debra stared at him, horrified. Did he mean what she thought he meant? It was rather obvious that he did as he lunged towards her, not quite catching her as she jumped backwards. Realising Peter was determined and fully intended to rape her, Debra turned and ran.
Peter followed swiftly after the fleeing young woman, easily keeping pace with her. It wasn't that he was teasing her with hopes of escape. He just wanted her to get a little further away from the road and onto that nice soft grass before he caught her.
Which he was able to do quite easily, Debra found, when a hand suddenly closed upon her hair and tugged. Before she could catch herself, Debra found her feet had run out from under her and she was falling backwards to the ground.
Debra hit the ground, flat on her back, and then Peter was diving down onto her. She lashed out frantically, but the swine was just laughing at her, catching her arms and then twisting them rather cruelly behind her back.
Holding Debra down effortlessly, Peter started undoing the buttons on her blouse, laughing as she swore at him and tried to struggle.
He stopped laughing when a hand closed around his neck and hauled him to his feet.
"I believe the lady is saying no," a deep voice rumbled.
Debra and Peter both looked at the intruder. One with relief and the other with irritation.
"Thank you," gasped Debra. "I was indeed saying no. As far as I'm concerned I never want to see that creep again, and I'll be sure to tell everyone why. You're a bastard, Peter."
"Listen, mate, everyone knows women like it a little rough at times. She's just playing. She'd have been purring like a kitten before we were through. Why don't you run along and let us get on with it?" growled Peter.
"Name's Dave," said the stranger. "Didn't look like she was playing to me. Why don't you get in your car and just go away. I'll escort the young lady back to town."
"I've got a better idea," snapped Debra. "I'll just take Peter's car and make my own way back to town. Peter can walk. The exercise will do him good."
"You're not taking my car, you little bitch," snarled Peter. "And as soon as I've seen this arsehole off we've some unfinished business, so don't get your hopes up."
Turning savagely on Dave, Peter suggest he leave.
"Listen, you ape, I'm a black belt in martial arts. Why don't you just fuck off back where you came from and stop interfering in things that aren't your concern. It'll save you from getting your face rearranged."
"Like this?" asked Dave, and Peter went flying backward as a sledgehammer hit him squarely between the eyes.
"Wow," said Debra.
"Can you do that again?" she asked hopefully.
"No need," said Dave. "Once is generally enough. Yep. There he goes."
Peter had staggered to his feet and was reeling towards his car, swearing as he went. He'd apparently decided that a dignified withdrawal was preferable to demeaning himself by giving Dave a hiding.
"I do hope he drives carefully," murmured Dave. "He's going to be trying to see the road through a pair of black eyes."