You close the door on the worst night of your life.

You close the apartment door behind you in a rush, panting with short, anxious breaths as you try to calm your dick down before you blow a load in your pants. What the Hell was that?! Even now you try to focus on her tree bark face, her yellowing teeth as she cackled, the bright silver hair, her hunched form... anything to not think about the best handjob anyone has ever given you. Even you didn't know your dick that well, so how-

"Did she see it?" You open your eyes... and see Devi with her genuinely worried expression. "Did she say something about it?"

Of course... Devi was busy with the body, so she probably didn't see what happened to you. Hell, even if she looked she probably only saw your naked back, and nothing of Lily's... that is, Mrs. Fields' attack.

Mrs. Fields? Ms. Fields? Was she married?

Don't think about it.

"No, she... she just gave me a real handful- EARFUL. One... one Hell of an earful," you mutter. It dawns on you that you left your shirt out there... and a quick, nervous peek into the hall reveals that it's already been vanished, likely dragged into the den of the beast nearby. Great.

"{if Devi_shaved = true}Master{else@}Derek{endif}, I think... I think the other one is awake."

Other one? Your front door is only open enough to fit your head through, and when you realize what she means you try to slam it shut, bashing your own ear with the door edge. Cursing, you withdraw and close it properly. "Jesus, I almost forgot about-"

Everything. The handjob and ridicule fades away, and you remember how you got here. A man is dead. A criminal, probably even a murderer you tell yourself again and again as you ease open the door of your bedroom. It helps numb your conscience as you try to stop considering that, from this day forward, no matter the cause, you're a murderer.

Revealed on your bed, struggling against the four ropes and handcuffs that bind her to its frame, is the lightweight con woman who brought this on you; another criminal, an accomplice, and so possibly a murderer in her own way. Her eyes go wide over the thick gag of tape and Devi's dirty panties that fill her mouth. Your cock twitches from the earlier stimulation, despite your grim thoughts... or perhaps in anticipation of a kind of justice that now writhes on your mattress.

"She doesn't look like she'll be very cooperative if freed right now." You detect no sarcasm Devi states the obvious. "I realize you may not be up to it after all that has transpired, but-" You spin to face Devi, your arms shooting out to her head to hold it, and shove her lips against yours. Her surprised bulging of eyes quickly melts into submission and moans as she presses into you, her tongue teasing yours in hopes that you'll take her mouth as you take her body. She goes to lift her shirt, put on only for appearances outside, but stops when she realizes she'd have to break this kiss. A tortured whine from her mouth tickles yours, and she resolves to let her hands dive for your pants-

You grab her wrists, and withdraw from her face to stare into it. Thank God you caught her; you're about ready to blow, and she's learned you well enough to finish what 'the Harlem Harlot' started. "I... I have to finish this..." You try to think of what to even call her. Chantel? Obviously a fake name, only made faker now that the jig was up. "... this bitch... before we can celebrate." Devi's eyebrows peak in sadness, but she nods obediently all the same. "But don't worry; you're going to help me."

Smiling, she asks, "How can I help, {if Devi_shaved = true}Master{else@}sir{endif}?"