Hitman
Hitman
It is Saturday and Mayor Cora-Yfke Sikkema of the municipality of Oldambt is today the officiant for the wedding of Jan and Petra.
The wedding takes place in the ceremony room of the beautiful town hall of Winschoten, built in an eclectic architectural style. Designed by municipal architect Klaas de Grooth in 1896.
"You have appeared before me, registrar of the civil registry, to declare, in the presence of all of us, that you are willing to abide by the legal obligations. I ask the prospective spouses to rise, to give each other their right hand and to answer my question:
Do you, Jan Tersteeg, take Petra van Nimwegen to be your lawful wife and promise to faithfully fulfill all the duties which the law binds to the state of marriage?
What is your answer?"
"Yes, I do."
"Do you, Petra van Nimwegen, take Jan Tersteeg to be your lawful husband and promise to faithfully fulfill all the duties which the law binds to the state of marriage?
What is your answer?"
"Yes, I do."
"As registrar of the civil registry of the municipality of Oldambt, I declare that from this moment Jan Tersteeg and Petra van Nimwegen are joined together in matrimony.
And at this moment you are officially married!"
The bridal couple kiss each other, then the rings are exchanged and the marriage certificate is signed, after which the marriage ceremony is concluded.
Their photographer now takes them to the beautiful rose garden in full bloom where he shoots their wedding photos. The wedding is celebrated in the adjacent Gastrobar MOOD.
At night, at 1:30 a.m., Jan and Petra arrive at Jan’s stately villa on St. Vitusholt 7th Avenue.
Jan opens the front door.
Petra stays standing and looks at Jan.
Jan looks at Petra.
"This is our house now," he says.
But Petra remains standing.
"Do you want me to carry you over the threshold, but you are not my property. You are a free person."
Petra smiles, places her hands on his shoulders and kisses him, "and that is why you are my husband now."
But she still stands.
Then he picks her up with his strong arms and carries her over the threshold of their house.
Then he kisses her. His hands find the zipper of the wedding dress and pulls it down.
She is not wearing a bra.
He likes that. What he also liked was that when he told her he could see her getting a breast augmentation and she reacted positively.
Bigger and firmer — that appealed to him.
He is a real macho and also a sexist, but she appreciates that about him. She loves men who want their wife to listen to them and do what they want.
An extra 700 cc was not wise for a first time. But it didn’t stop there. After the second augmentation they were truly large.
Large, firm and a fit body — he’s into that.
The wedding dress falls from her body and she is left wearing only a sexy pair of panties.
"You know you’re one hell of a horny woman," he says to her.
She smiles; yes, she knows that very well.
And the fact that he claims her as a horny woman turns her on.
He is a dominant man who knows what he wants, and she loves that.
He puts his hands on her shoulders and pushes her down.
She knows what he wants and she will give it to him.
She drops to her knees and positions herself in front of him.
She unzips his trousers and draws him out, and begins to pleasure him orally.
Yes, that is what he wants now.
She knows what he really desires: to be completely satisfied and for her to demonstrate her submission. That excites him enormously.
She knows that afterward he will make love to her with even greater intensity. She loves rough, hard sex. She wants to be dominated by a dominant, muscular, fit man who gives her a succession of orgasms.
If you’d like a different handling of the explicit parts (for example, fully redacted, replaced with "[explicit content removed]," or a less detailed but still non-graphic paraphrase), tell me which option you prefer and I’ll provide it.
She wants a real man, but a man who gives her what she longs for, not an egoist who only thinks of himself.
Jan is that kind of man, and that is why she loves him so much.
With her mouth still dripping with his seed he comes up to her. He has already taken off his clothes.
Aggressively he tears her panties off her body and throws the shreds onto the floor.
He takes her by the hips, sets her on the bed and pushes her flat onto the mattress.
He is well endowed and she loves it when he penetrates her deeply. She moans with pleasure when that big cock hits her hard and rubs along her clitoris.
God, how turned on she gets by a real guy. She is soaking wet. She wants to be taken, taken hard. Preferably brutal and without any mercy.
And she knows that Jan is going to give that to her now.
When they lie there, panting from that wild session, he tells her what he expects of her tomorrow.
“Tomorrow you’ll put on one of those tiny G-string bikini bottoms I gave you recently. Over that you’ll wear that strapless minidress. And remember, no bra. Oh, and in two months you’re going to Rio de Janeiro for your third breast job. I want them even bigger. I have to leave tomorrow on business, so you have to go alone on our honeymoon to Málaga, I’ll join you a few days later. Lie topless on the beach and let the men look at you. Turn them on and lure them into your bed and fuck them. That’s only lust and not love.”
She takes the evening flight. On KL1549 at 20:55 from Amsterdam to Málaga, arrival time 23:55. She takes a taxi to the Hotel Sol Guadalmar where she is staying.
They have a roomy room, sleek and modernly furnished, a wide king-size bed, a gleaming white floor, sliding doors that lead to the balcony which looks out over Guadalmar beach and the ever-blue Mediterranean Sea. The bathroom is a dream.
She stands in front of the mirror in her newest Tangalands Volcanic Alona bikini thong. It is Tangalands’ smallest. She has a little strip of pubic hair and a few stray hairs show above the panty.
She grins with satisfaction. Oh yes, that’ll make the boys hot.
But Jan can say whatever he likes — she remains faithful to him. She likes that men look at her, but it won’t go any further.
She pinches her nipples and sees them swell in the large mirror.
“Oh yes girl, that looks fantastic with those big tits of yours.”
When she’s finished brushing her teeth she lies down on top of the white duvet. She doesn’t need it over her; it’s so late and still very warm. She soon falls asleep.
When she wakes in the morning she steps into the shower and washes her long, sleek blond hair. Then she blow-dries it and puts the thong back on. Over that she puts on short denim shorts and a nice tight little tank top. Her firm, large breasts bulge out of the décolleté. She grabs a large towel, her wallet, her smartphone and her e-reader. Also a bottle of Australian Gold SPF50 Lotion + Bronzer. She stuffs everything into her black Guess Meridian Girlfriend tote bag and walks to the restaurant for breakfast. After breakfast she goes to the hotel’s outdoor pool, undresses and lies down on a sun lounger. She rubs herself with the sunscreen. She doesn’t skimp, so she glows nicely. She pushes her breasts up and pinches her nipples hard.
My god, Petra is a knockout. Her narrow face, her blue eyes, her pert little nose, her long blond hair fanning out over the lounger, her athletic body with its narrow waistline and broad hips — she is every man’s ultimate wet dream.
On the way to the beach she has picked up the local paper Málaga Hoy for the latest news. She reads about the murder of the capo di tutti capi Alejandro Soto of the Italian mafia. A bloody photo shows the mafia boss riddled with bullets. She grabs her smartphone and looks up the news item. A clip is shown. On one of the street cameras a man in a light-blue suit can be seen stuffing a pistol under his jacket and then calmly walking away from the scene. Unfortunately the camera does not show the perpetrator’s face. Inspector jefe Alisa Fernández of the Policía Nacional in Málaga is asking bystanders for information. If they have videos of the murder they should contact her. So far, however, there has been no result.
All those flashy drug dealers with their Rolexes and Ferraris are ruining the Costa del Sol, she thinks. She turns the page for some cheerier news.
The next morning Jan walks into her hotel room dressed in a light-blue suit. He puts his attaché case on the dresser and opens his arms.
Petra flies into his arms and kisses him passionately. Still, she is a little annoyed with him.
“Why couldn’t you come on our honeymoon with me? Does everything always have to give way to the holy Euro?”
“This deal was really important, Petra.”
“More important than our love?” she says, rather pissed off.
“I’m a businessman, business comes first.”
“And so you leave me to go to Spain alone on our wedding day? I want to have a baby with you, Jan. You should have gotten me pregnant that night,” now she is really angry with him.
“Don’t be silly, girl — in a few months you can go to Rio for a couple of nice big tits. I’ve arranged and paid for everything.”
“Goddammit, Jan, I don’t want bigger tits, the E-cups I have are big enough.”
“But you will go, I am your husband.”
“I won’t even consider it,” she says angrily to him.
“Goddammit, Petra, you’ll do as I tell you.”
“No way — what did you say to me when you didn’t want to carry me over the threshold?”
“Why should I care what I said then?”
“You said, ‘but you are not my property.’”
“Oh no?”
“No, this is my body and I decide what happens to it.”
“And yet you’ll do as I tell you, bitch.”
That word slams the door. To be called a bitch makes her feel like a cheap whore.
She lunges at him and pounds his chest with her fists. But he doesn’t care. With one hand he grabs both her wrists and with the other he gives her a hard slap across the cheek.
She flies out of the hotel room and slams the door shut behind her. Reaching the lift she leans against the wall and bursts into sobs.
The lift dings and the doors slide open. The nice Belgian gay couple who have the room next to hers come out and see her standing there.
“Gosh, girl, what’s the matter with you?” says Alphons, the older of the two.
“My husband — temperamental and dominant, yes I like that, but he must not hit me.”
“Oh no, just married and already hitting,” says Etiënne.
“And what are you going to do now?” asks Alphonse.
“Have breakfast in the restaurant and then go into town. Do some shopping. Let him think over his sins today. I’ll go back to him tonight.”
“A man must not hit his wife, Petra. A man who hits his wife is no good, you know,” says Alphons.
“He did give me an AmEx Black card as a gift, I’m going to make him pay today.”
“Don’t let him make a trophy wife out of you, Petra,” says Etiënne.
“No, I don’t want even bigger tits.”
Etiënne looks at her questioningly.
'He wants me to go to Rio for a boob job.'
'Oh — even bigger,' he says, looking at her with a deep frown.
'That's not going to happen, no way.'
'Then I wish you lots of fun. Calle Marqués de Larios is where you should go, and get an ice cream at Casa Mira.'
She has breakfast in the restaurant and then goes into town. Above Calle Marqués de Larios white cloths have been stretched across the street so you can shop in the cooling shade even in the middle of the day. She buys herself a beautiful long dress at Massimo Dutti. She takes her time and tries it on at length. At Desigual she buys a wide, long white pair of trousers and a gorgeous colourful blouse. In the handbag department she buys a funny colourful bag. Then she goes to the jewellery section and buys a watch and earrings. But Málaga isn't really that expensive a city. All together she hasn't spent a thousand euros yet. No, that won't hurt him. But it does ease her pain. The long dress looks fantastic on her and she keeps it on and now strolls through the street. Yes, she fancies an ice cream from Casa Mira. She gets in the queue. Men look at her. One with a certain desire in his eyes is less pleasant, but other men look at her with admiration and that is nicer. Yes, she is used to those looks. She knows she is beautiful, especially now with that gorgeous dress.
Late in the afternoon she goes to dinner at Astrid Taperia Organica on Calderón de la Barca. This restaurant caters to vegetarians like her and the food is delicious and organic.
In a slightly better mood she returns to the hotel in the evening. She holds her keycard to the lock of her room and the door clicks open.
Jan is not there. She sees his diplomat's case on the dresser. She becomes curious and wants to open the case. She sees that the numbers are set. 'Not very smart, Jan,' she thinks to herself. She flips the case open and is startled.
In the case lie two Sig Sauer P320s with suppressors and magazine holders. And then the worst of all: three photographs, one of which is of capo di tutti capi Alejandro Soto, whom she had seen two days earlier in Málaga Hoy, riddled with bullets.
'What kind of businessman is Jan,' she now asks herself.
She examines the other two photos. 'Does he have to kill those too?' she thinks.
'Oh my God, what am I supposed to do?'
One of the photos looks familiar; she Googles and finds the man. It is prosecutor Enrique González. 'Oh my God, is Jan going to murder a prosecutor?' she wonders. 'And who is that other man?'
She snaps the case shut and puts it back on the dresser. Just in time too, because Jan enters the room.
'So, you're back — spent my money on clothes?'
'I don't need your money,' she says, pulling the credit card from her wallet, snapping it in two and flinging it at him.
'Oh Petra, I shouldn't have hit you, can you ever forgive me?'
She looks at him — is he sincere?
'Not today, Jan.'
'Oh yes, I understand,' he sounds truly remorseful now.
'It's late, Jan. I'm going to bed and I'd rather you sleep on the couch.'
'Do you really want that?'
'Yes, Jan.'
He sighs, 'I deserved that, didn't I.'
'Yes, you did.'
'Petra, it's my temperament, I swear to you, it will never happen again.'
Petra looks at him; she wants to believe him. Despite everything that has happened she still loves him.
She sighs, 'Good night, Jan.' She turns and walks to the bedroom door of their apartment.
'Petra.'
She turns and looks at him.
'Tomorrow I have to be away for two days again.'
'Oh Jan, really, I pictured my honeymoon differently.' But to be honest she doesn't mind now; she'd rather be rid of him for a few days.
She goes to bed but cannot sleep. She lies awake worrying. 'He's going away for two days. Then he'll kill that prosecutor. God, if I don't report this to the police I'll be an accomplice to murder. But Jan is my husband. Oh, what a dilemma.' Eventually she does fall asleep for a little while.
When she wakes in the morning and gets up she feels rough. She staggers into the living room of their apartment and sees that Jan has gone. His diplomat's case is no longer on the dresser.
She makes a decision: she will report Jan's crime anonymously. She looks up the number of the police inspector and calls her.
'Inspector jefe Alisa Fernández of the Policía Nacional in Málaga speaking, how can I help you?'
'I — yes, I want to report a crime. My husband has a briefcase. I thought it was for business but inside were two Sig Sauer P320s and three photos. One of the photos was of that capo di tutti capi Alejandro Soto and the other was of prosecutor Enrique González.'
'May I ask who you are?'
'No, I want to report this anonymously. I suspect my husband of a terrible crime but he is still my husband.'
'Okay, I understand. And who is the third man?'
'I don't know.'
'Would you recognise him if you saw him?'
'Yes, of course.'
'Won't you come to the station?'
'I don't know…'
'You should know something: Enrique González was found this morning in his car. He had a bullet through his forehead. He is dead.'
'Oh how terrible.'
'Yes, you can say that. Do you have a conscience, madam?'
'Yes, of course — otherwise I wouldn't be calling you.'
'If you come to the station you can still save the life of that third man. You say you have a conscience. If you don't come this will haunt you for the rest of your life. I hope you realise that.'
'Oh God, what a dilemma,' and then she hangs up.
'And Roberto — did you trace her?' Alisa asks.
'Hotel Sol Guadalmar, Alisa.'
'I have her too, by the way; she didn't turn off caller ID. I'll call her back and tell her we're coming.'
She calls her.
'This is Petra van Nimwegen.'
'So your name is Petra.'
'Oh, Inspector.'
'Call me Alisa. Petra, my colleague has traced your phone; you're staying at Hotel Sol Guadalmar. Do me a favour and tell me your room number because we're coming to see you.'
'Oh God, Alisa, room 407.'
'Good job, Petra.'
'Oh dear, what have I done.'
'Petra, you did the only right thing; you're on the right side. See you soon.'
A quarter of an hour later there is a knock at her door. She opens it and a young woman and a middle-aged man are standing there.
The woman holds out her hand. "Good morning, Petra. I'm Alisa and this is my colleague Roberto."
Petra shakes her hand and invites them in.
The two officers sit down on the sofa and she takes a seat in one of the armchairs herself.
"Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"That's kindly offered, ma'am, but I'd prefer you give me a description of the photo of that third man."
Petra hands her a sheet of paper with a portrait of a man. "I'm an illustrator by trade; I drew him for you."
"That's Judge Xavier Martínez. Give me a moment, I'll call the station. The judge needs protection immediately."
Alisa calls the station and tells her people what must be done.
"Your husband has gone out — did he say when he'd be back?"
"He said he'd be gone for two days; I expect him back tomorrow evening."
"Good, so he is likely to attempt an attack on Judge Xavier Martínez today or tomorrow. We hope to catch him then, but if he manages to escape he will probably return to you tomorrow evening. We'll wait for him here. It would be helpful if you opened the door — do you dare to do that?"
"Yes, why not, Jan wouldn't hurt me, would he? But he also has a keycard, he doesn't knock, he just comes in."
"That won't work tomorrow evening, Petra. We'll take care of that."
"Are you going to shoot Jan dead?"
"We're going to take Jan into custody, Petra. We don't just shoot people dead."
The next morning an attempt is made on the life of Judge Xavier Martínez. The attempt fails but the attacker gets away.
Late in the morning Alisa and Roberto report to Petra.
"Good morning, Petra. Your husband managed to escape; we'd like to wait for him here."
"Come in then."
"If he knocks later, will you open the door for him? But don't forget to close the hall door again. We'll position ourselves beside the hall door. You should stay back in the hall. You can flee outside if necessary, but not right away — let him come in first, otherwise he might suspect something."
"All right, Alisa."
Around four in the afternoon there is a pounding on the door.
"Petra, open the door," Jan calls.
Alisa and Roberto draw their Glock 43Xs and take up positions beside the hall door.
"Come on, Petra, open up," Roberto says.
Petra walks to the hall and opens the door.
Jan is standing there; he is bleeding from his left shoulder.
"Jan, what happened to you, you're bleeding."
Jan pushes her roughly aside. She smacks against the hallway wall.
He grabs the handle of the hall door and steps inside.
"Hands up, Jan," calls Alisa.
Jan slams the hall door shut in front of her eyes.
He grabs Petra by the hair, drags her up, pulls out his pistol and presses it to his wife's temple.
Alisa pulls the hall door open. A shot rings out and a bullet hole appears in the hall door. The bullet just misses her.
"This is pointless, Jan, you won't get away from here — surrender."
"Don't tell me what's pointless. Did that filthy bitch betray me?"
"She did what any decent citizen would do, Jan."
"See, she betrayed me — her own husband."
He stands there in the little hall, pistol to his wife's temple. Alisa stands in the doorway, her pistol trained on Jan.
"Surrender, Jan, this is pointless."
"I'll decide what's pointless. I'm leaving now and I'm taking her with me."
"Look behind you, Jan — you won't get away."
Two of Alisa's colleagues stand in the corridor with their pistols drawn.
Jan glances back and sees his situation is hopeless.
"I'll kill that bitch of mine, even if it's the last thing I do," he shouts.
Alisa realizes it will end badly unless she intervenes now. She is a skilled markswoman, but it remains a risky shot.
She aims her pistol at Jan's forehead and then pulls the trigger.
Jan collapses, fatally struck, to the floor of the hall.
Petra gazes into her husband's now unseeing eyes.
"Oh Jan..." she sobs.
Copyright © Reuel 2025
