Sheets of rain drummed an uneven beat against the penthouse apartment's windows. Mack 'Die Alte' hated the rain, since the damp had a special way of unearthing every one of his arthritic pains. Normally he would have gone to the Hotel Inter-Conti for a good steam and massage, instead he had to guard over Petra Wessel.
As a young man the sixty year-old pimp had not been to above putting a whore in her place, although disciplining them rarely required more than a slap in the face. Nowadays all his girls considered him a soft touch, affectionately calling him 'Die Alte'. He should have taught them the meaning of respect, but he enjoyed their term of endearment.
SS Tommy was not so forgiving.
Every criminal organization employed a berserker like SS Tommy, though he had moved beyond the realm of muscle and it was simply a matter of time before he challenged Cali for the dominant position on the Reeperbahn. When that battle began, Die Alte hoped to be far away rather than choose sides, because once SS Tommy smelled blood, only a bullet could stop the bodybuilder. Die Alte had tried to stop SS Tommy from whipping Petra with a wire hangar. A solid right had broken his jaw and Die Alte had never interfered with the upstart again.
Mack shifted the automatic pistol stuck behind his back and stretched his legs. He had to give it to Petra. She had taken the beating better than most men, not crying out once, as the fists and feet pummeled her.
The back of Petra's arms bore the marks of her desperate attempt to defend herself during her near-fatal beating. The skin around her bad eye was puckered, but the lifeless orb in the socket hauntingly seemed to never leave him. She could not have recognized who had attacked her. They had been hooded and no one involved had ever spoken about it to anyone outside their circle, though the list of people who had something to gain by squashing her union of whores was very limited.
Mack should have tied up Petra, except Cali had a soft spot for the whore and said it was unnecessary to restrain her. So far he had been right. She remained on the couch and read a book, as if she knew how spooky he thought this silent treatment was to him.
An hour later, Mack got to his feet and announced, "I have to go the bathroom."
"I am not stopping you, am I?" She laid the book on her lap.
"I can not leave you alone, so you have two choice. Be tied up or come into the bathroom with me. It is up to you."
"I will go into the bathroom with you."
"I warn you. Do not try anything funny. I may be old, but I am still a man."
"I never said you weren't." Petra stood and led the way to the bathroom.
For a second he thought she might attempt to flee out the door, but she stepped inside and said, "Do you want me to hold it for you?"
"Yes, you can help Die Alte." Mack undid his zipper and spread his arms. No matter how hard they try, a whore remains a whore. Her body rubbed against him, as Petra snaked a hand inside his pants and took out his cock, which responded by hardening. She still had her touch and he jokingly said, "Shake it twice, when I am finished."
"As always," Petra said before extracting the gun from behind Mack's back with her left hand. Her thumb expertly flicked off the safety. Mack realized what she was doing and started to turn.
Petra pulled the trigger and the bullet smacked into the tiles inches away from his head.
"That was the only warning you will get."
"Don't shoot me." Mack gauged the five feet between them. If he were younger, he would have tried to get the gun out of her hands. The hatred in her eye begged him to try it. He rejected calling her bluff and lifted his hands in the air.
"You were there that night, yes?"
"No, I was not."
Another explosion filled the tiny room. Plaster sprayed Mack's back.
"You tell me 'No' once more and I will kill you. Were you there?"
"Yes, I drove the car."
"And who was with you?"
"SS Tommy and Klaus." This violation of the pimp's code finished him in Hamburg.
Just as good.
He had been secretly selling off his shares of the Eroscenter to finance a move to Thailand. The girls were beautiful, the cops were corrupt, and fleets of sailors and tourists flocked to that Asian Babylon by the thousands, but his getting out of Hamburg unscathed was looking grim, unless he told the truth.
"Klaus threw the hood over your head and punched you once. SS Tommy did the rest."
"Cali, what did he do?"
"He was told to order the beating."
"By whom?"
"The bosses."
"I thought Cali was the boss."
"He is, but everyone has a boss."
Petra lifted the pistol and her finger tensed on the trigger.
Mack raised his arms, as if flesh and bone could stop steel.
"Die Alte, today is your lucky day. Take out the adhesive bandage from the cabinet, then pull down your pants and kneel with your back to me. Remember, I will use this and the only thing keeping me from shooting you is your doing exactly what I tell you. Do you understand?"
"Yes." He obeyed her explicitly and five minutes later he was securely bound by hand and foot to the toilet.
His fellow Zuhalterei might ridicule Mack, but this humiliation was scant payment for his role in her beating. Her eyes locked on the shower hose. Taking off the head, she told Mack to lift his behind in the air.
"What for?"
"Because I say so." Petra put the gun to his head.
Mack winced, as the plastic hose entered his rectum and groaned with each inch Petra forced inside him. It took her several seconds to decide between the hot or cold-water faucet. Mack was getting off lightly as it was, so she went for the hot. He protested, until she smacked him in the head with the gun barrel, knocking him out, so his face drooped into the toilet bowl. His unconsciousness was only temporary, for the hot water filling his entrails revived him.
After a minute he begged for her to release him, but mercy had been erased from her vocabulary. She dressed in her favorite leather outfit and high lace-up stiletto boots, the reincarnation of her mistress of evil. "Die Alte, you needed to go the bathroom. Well, now you can."
Petra left, as Mack relieved himself only to be pumped with hot water again.
His whores were right.
He was definitely getting too old for this job.
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