Test Your Formula

You load your formula into a dart for a tranquilizer gun. It’s meant for demons, but you want to know what it’s effect is on human physiology.

You head over to the cage.

“Mom, you have...”

You tune out their begging and point you gun at the closer of the two. You pull the trigger.

The dart hits Liza with an audible ‘thud’. She screams.

You note the scream is likely from the tranquilizer darts impact. She continues to scream. Her face contorts into an expression of pain. You note her continued discomfort, even as you enjoy the pretty screams.

“Mom, what did you do?”

You ignore her and head back to your computer. You examine your numbers and the structure of the formula. Even if it doesn’t work it might have potential in ****.

Some time later the screaming stops.

You head back over to the cage. Liza appears covered in sweat, but awake.

“How are you feeling, Liza?”

“W...w...what did you do to me?”

“I was just testing my formula. What day is it?”

“What? Tuesday.”

You examine he pupils and do a quick medical scan.

“Excellent you appear cognizant and sane.” You open the door and pull Liza from the cage. “Tell me, how did it feel.”

“Fuck it hurt! Felt like somebody was tearing out my insides!”

“Interesting. Liza would you like to become a demon?”

“Hell yes! Especially if I get to lick your pussy!”

You didn’t really need to ask, but it’s nice having her on board.

You use demonic magic and in a puff of sulfurous smoke you create a little black barbell.

“Liza, I’m going to pierce your clit. It will hurt a lot. Are you ready?”

In response she drops her dress. You note she is going commando.

You prepare yourself for your territorial instinct to kick in. You plunge the little barbell through her clit.

“Oooh!”

You grab your tranquilizer gun and shoot her with the formula again. She screams.

You sit down and observe her transformation. First her eyes begin to glow the red-orange of demonic fire. Her fingernails, already painted black, grow long and sharp. Her GothPurple colored lips turn black. A pair of shiny black horns bursts from her forehead. You begin to feel the urge to tear her limb from limb. You prepare yourself knowing you have a spare test subject.

She looks at you.

“How are feeling, Liza? What would you like to do?”