I shook my head, trying to clear the lusty fog which had clouded my mind with Runt's presence. I braced myself against the kitchen counter as Runt continued eating the pickles and pacing the apartment. Between pickles, he would rub the juice on his hands over his crotch, making me cringe at the thought of the vinegar lubricant. I was confused and scared: what could I do to make this demon leave?
That's when Runt decided to sneak up beside me and grab my crotch. I panicked, and my natural fight or flight response kicked in. I grabbed the chef's knife sitting on the counter from dinner and struck it straight into his heart. The Imp's eyes widened in surprise as he looked down at his wound. Then he began to laugh. It wasn't a funny laugh, or an insane laugh, or even a confident laugh; it was the laugh of someone who has been beaten at their own game and can only watch their own defeat.
"Wow," he breathed out, his mouth slowly beginning to drip blood, "I didn't think you were brave enough. You win, kid, but you are you ready for the prize?"
With that, he collapsed and went stiff. I gasped, able to breathe again, but now faced with what I had done. I had killed someone, even if they weren't human. I went to try and save him somehow, but as soon as I touched him, his body vanished into a cloud of black smoke which swirled violently around me and forced its way down my throat like a penetrative tentacle. I felt the gas absorb into my body, filling me with a power I had never known. My body became muscular and toned, like Runt's had been. My body hair fell out and my skin became a consistent light tan. Two small horns grew from my head and my pelvis was weighed down as my genitals doubled in size and a tail burst from my spine.
I ran to the bathroom and looked myself over. The transformation had split my underwear which were now hanging in tatters at my ankles. I still looked like myself, but much more perfect than before. I had become a demon like Runt: somehow, killing him had given me his powers.
It had also made me more like him mentally. I wanted to fuck and transform. To find someone to dominate and control. Someone who would bend to my will and agree to whatever transformation I wanted to feed my hunger for sex and chaos. Not even bothering to put on clothes, I walked out into the city night to find my next victim.
I realized I knew things about my new powers I had never been told, as though I had always been this way. I had made myself invisible to humans without thinking, walking past people in the street and giving them no alarm. Everyone I walked past became horny, men and women unconsciously touching themselves. I scanned the crowds for the right person and came across my perfect candidate: a young man like myself, sitting alone on a bench in the park. It was really too cold out to stay there for pleasure, so I guessed he was either depressed or homeless, either possibility making him more open to suggestions to change that. With a newfound confidence, I made myself appear to only him as a well-dressed version of myself.
"Hey, pal," I asked, walking up to him. "You okay?"
"What, me? Uh, yeah. I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," I pointed out, noticing his pants beginning to bulge. "You got a place to go tonight?"
"...No..."
"Why don't you come with me?"
He didn't know why, but he found the offer irresistible. He didn't know that I was playing with his head, making myself more desirable for him. And honestly, I didn't do it consciously, it was just a part of who I was now. I led him back to my apartment, learning that his name was Jason.
"And who are you?" he asked.
"My friends call me Runt," I said without questioning it.
"You don't look very small."
"I guess it's ironic," I shrugged it off.
I locked the door behind us and began planning my next move, picking up the cycle where I had left off.