Extra R18 TIS 297. 22 Wild Dom Play: Perverted Drunk Boss (3) (Patreon)

Extra R18 TIS 297. 22 Wild Dom Play: Perverted Drunk Boss (3)

I arrived in front of room 1042, the corridor outside dimly lit by the faint glow of the overhead lights. The air was tinged with anticipation as I reached for the doorknob, my hand trembling slightly with a mix of nerves and curiosity. The door creaked open, and I stepped inside, the room unfolding before me.

The room, an office space of sorts, was adorned with sleek sofas and modern laptops, creating an intriguing blend of the modern office and simplistic bedroom. The walls were adorned with ornate paintings and office knick-knacks.

I took a moment to let the ambiance sink in, feeling the room as I tried to sink into my role. The sofas beckoned invitingly, their plush cushions offering a comforting embrace. On the desk, there was a stack of documents and a laptop. I bet it was just a prop.

Using my Demon’s Clothes, in the blink of an eye, my clothes dissolved into the swirling darkness, replaced by a suit that fit with the scene, showing I was the boss. But it was not the polished and refined suit one might expect. Instead, it was a messed-up suit that suit my role. I needed to show that I was drunk or at least I tried to show it.

The tie, once pristine and proper, now hung loosely around my neck, its knot haphazard and carelessly thrown together. The shirt, too, bore the marks of a tumultuous journey, its collar askew and the fabric wrinkled from untold escapades.

The transformation was complete—a manifestation of a drunkard's image, but somehow I felt it lack of something.

Trying to get some inspiration, I walked into the room, my senses were immediately drawn to the sight of an alcohol bottle sitting on the table, surrounded by a few empty glasses. The air carried the faint aroma of spirits, a telltale sign of previous revelry. A wry smile tugged at the corners of my lips as an idea flashed in my head—a plan that seemed to align perfectly with the shabby suit I now wore.

I quickly informed her.

‘Yuffy, do you have any dispel skills or something?’ I telepathically communicated to her, our minds connecting in a seamless union of thoughts.

Her response was swift and confident. ‘Yes,’ she confirmed. It was perfect for this role play.

‘In that case, I'll drink a few glasses of alcohol and get myself drunk. Just use your Dispel in case I cross my limits,’ I reminded Yuffy, my voice tinged with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Well, I never drunk before and I was a demon, so who knew what I would do if I went beyond my limit?

‘Okay! she responded, her voice firm and unwavering.

With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, I picked up the alcohol bottle from the table. Its cool surface felt reassuring in my hand, a tangible reminder of the decision I was about to make. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the significance of this moment—the moment when I would venture into the realm of vulnerability and surrender.

I poured myself a glass, the liquid glinting with a mesmerizing allure. The aroma of spirits wafted through the air, teasing my senses with its heady scent. I hesitated for a moment, my mind grappling with the weight of the decision before me.

“Right… It’s going to be fine, Ethan. You just need to stop before you pass out or completely lose your mind,” I reminded myself as I gazed at the glass in my hand.

With a deep breath, I raised the glass to my lips, feeling the coolness of the glass against my skin. The liquid kissed my tongue, its taste sending a shiver down my spine—a potent concoction of flavors that ignited a fire within. I wasn’t a fan of alcohol, but this was a perfect opportunity to find out what happened if I got drunk. Was I going to act stupid? Or was I going to destroy everything around me?

Again, I pour the alcohol into another glass and drank everything in one gulp. Glass by glass, I drank, feeling the world around me blur and transform. My head was getting heavier. My system warned me about how drunk I was, but I completely ignored it.

This was the first time I had ever drunk this much alcohol.

One bottle had empty. As the last drop of alcohol touched my lips, a wave of warmth washed over me, and a heady sensation of euphoria enveloped my senses. The room seemed to sway gently, as if the very walls were dancing to an unseen rhythm. But amidst the fleeting joy, a creeping sense of disorientation began to take hold.

My head started spinning, a disconcerting whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. I blinked, trying to steady myself, but the room continued its surreal dance around me. I clung to the edge of the table for support, the cool surface offering a momentary anchor in the swirling storm of intoxication.

The room had fallen into a hushed stillness, the aftermath of the alcohol-fueled illusion leaving a sense of serenity in its wake. My head was finally clearing, the disorientation ebbing away, as I stood there.

‘Is this what it feels like to be drunk?’ I thought.

Soon, a sudden knock on the door broke the silence, echoing through the room. My head turned in the direction of the sound, my senses on high alert.

Yuffy walked into the room. Rather than timid, she gave an aura of confidence that demanded attention. Her appearance exuded an urban chic style that blended elegance with a touch of rebellion.

Clad in sleek office attire, she wore a form-fitting blazer that accentuated her slim figure, its dark hue contrasting with her radiant skin. The blazer bore an air of authority, as if she was ready to conquer any challenge that dared to cross her path. Its sharp lines and impeccable tailoring spoke of professionalism, while a subtle hint of rebelliousness lingered beneath the surface.

Underneath the blazer, she donned a crisp white button-up shirt, its collar neatly peeking out from the lapels of the blazer. The shirt added a touch of refinement to her ensemble.