Redecorate.
Having finished admiring herself, Nikea deigned to notice the changes her orgasm had wrought int he bathroom. And she liked what she saw. A lot. Though she could not have said if it was the new aesthetic itself so much, or rather the inference that her cum had created it.
"Mmmmm..." She slid her hand down over her ballsack, fondling her heavier orbs for a moment. She was still hard as a rock, the lustful fires still raging in her crimson flesh. But assuming her seed was as corruptive as she surmised, she needed to hold back for a minute or two. Moving on, she dipped her fingers behind her balls and into her cunny, gathering up the dripping femcum.
Bringing her hand to her mouth, she delicately licked a drop form her nail, savouring the sweet, spicy taste. Then she turned, making for the door -- now merely a curtain hung between two black columns.
Outside though the hall remained painfully mundane. She frowned slightly, more disgusted than ever by the circumstances of her life.
But that's all in the past, now, she reminded herself, making her lips curve back into a smile. She strode to her bedroom door, accustoming herself to the roll of her hips, the flicking of her tail. She had an instinct for a seductive stalk, and she leaned into it, trying to perfect the motion as quickly as she could, the image of her putative harem of adoring slaves burning bright in the back of her mind.
Laying her cum-slick fingers on the doorknob, she heard with satisfaction the hiss of her hellish fluids sinking into and warping it. It shrank back and elongated, the metal shifting from cheap brass to polished silver. As she watched, it took the form of a female figure, her feet bound together, her arms stretched above her head, tied at the wrists; her back arched to thrust out her exquisite silver boobs and so forming a handle.
"Lovely." Nikea ran her thumb over the molded nakedness, Ideas tickled in the back of her mind as to what she could do with this -- it might be possible to somehow merge a person with it, or transfer their soul into it, and so create a living handle that would moan and cum for her whenever she caressed it. For now, though, a dildo shoved in the handle's cunt served to open the latch, which she pushed in to open the door to her room.
She did not enter just yet, though. Now that her intuition of her ability was confirmed, it was time to really let loose. To remake this drab apartment into an abode worthy of a succubus, after the manner of a succubus.
Calling up those images of servile mortals, she began to pant as she pumped at her demonic cock and massage her tits again. With the heady fantasy and the stimulation of her super sensitive flesh, it did not take long for her to fire off more shots of her corruptive cum. Quite a few, most aimed through the door into her room, though she took care to hit the door itself as well as firing one down the hall to her right and another onto the wall to her left. And, of course, more femcum ran down her legs to wet the floor below her.
The pleasure of seeing the apartment transform mingled with the fiery haze of orgasm, shivers of power running through her as she continued to squeeze at her maleness. Black stone consumed the floors, hardwood paneling overspread the walls. Her bed became a mahogany four-poster, draped in red silken sheets and gauzy black curtains. The white door took on a dark red-brown stain, the panels carved to suggest flames.
"Wonder...ful... oh... Hell..." Her seed still wasn't expended, and her pumping picked up in pace. Venturing inside, she hardly paid attention to the room, inside opening her closet and unloading on her clothes.
Not only did her garments shrivel away into skimpy lingerie and skintight bodysuits, she noticed that a number of new outfits were forming from the dripping cum. She was a bit confused at first at the petsuits and maid outfits, before realising that these were for her slaves.
Leaving the clothing for now in preference for the freedom of nakedness, she went back out. The hallway opened out on her dining area/kitchenette; and she was curious what exactly she could do to modern appliances.
Not too much in functional difference, she found, though the scheme of black, red and silver continued. While still recognizably a modern kitchen, it now looked both wealthy and subtly decadent. And the groceries left on the table -- now mahogany as well, supported by clawed, shapely legs -- had become expensive gourmet items.
She picked up an apple, noticing it shine with an almost seductive sheen, as if a coat of her precum clung to it, though it was not damp. Biting into it idly, her succubus brain immediately detected that it was not only far more delicious than any apple she'd ever had, but it was laced with aphrodisiac. Not that she could be affected by it, but it was good to know.
Meanwhile, she found that she was finally tiring out. Not really growing less horny, or her balls less full. The weariness was of a different kind, and corresponded to the growing urgency of her hunger. She had expended nearly all the power the initial metamorphosis had gifted her, and she needed to refuel.
And an apple, no matter how tasty, would not cut it.
That did not mean she could not enjoy it as she wandered out into the front room. Gathering more fluids onto her free hand from her cumslit and cunny, she selected her reading lamp. There was one final test she wanted to carry out before finding someone to replenish herself with.
So far, the changes to the decor had happened with no conscious input from her, though she suspected that they were affected by her subconscious. However, she wanted to see if she could guide the corruption.
As she ran her hand over the plastic body of the lamp, she focused on another of her fantasies. The cheap plastic gave way beneath her fingers like clay as her cum soaked into it, and to her delight it began to take on the form she imagined. Soon it stood taller as another silver statuette of a woman, her hands uplifted to support the bulb, moaning in silent orgasm as a succubus fondled her boobs from behind, her spaded tail plugging her "victim's" pussy.
Nikea sighed in satisfied weariness. She finished her apple, burning away the core in a puff of sulphurous flame. Then, just as she began contemplating how she was going to go about getting a real victim to slake her hunger, there was a knock on the door.
"Such timing," she murmured to herself with a wicked smile. She sauntered over to the front entrance, prepping herself to seduce whoever stood outside. Whoever it was -- male or female, salesman or old buddy -- would have the honour of being her first slave.