Kinoff City looks all fancy on the tourist posters, rainbow flags and smiling faces, but when you drop into Stronger Bonds it hits more like some horny soap opera that got hijacked by horny rhinos with way too much baggage. You play as Samson, this huge, broad-shouldered rhinoceros cop who just landed the job of police chief in the so-called gay capital. Big uniform, bigger ego, and a past that’s a total mess. He’s not just here to write tickets. He’s stomping around the city, poking his nose into clubs, gyms, back alleys, and “private” apartments, trying to bring order to a place that doesn’t really want to behave. The whole city basically looks at him and thinks “strict daddy who needs to loosen up”. Which, yeah, the game makes sure he does. Slowly. With a lot of dick.

What makes it fun is how the story keeps mixing heavy drama with horny bullshit. One minute Samson is remembering his dead wife or how he screamed at his four sons until they ran away, next minute you’re in a locker room with a cocky lion officer testing his “respect for authority” with his tongue buried in Samson’s lap. Sex scenes feel like arguments that turn into blowjobs. Fights that end with someone bent over a desk. When Samson pulls rank, he really pulls it. The male domination vibe hits hard, especially when he’s in full uniform, hand on the suspect’s neck, using his weight to pin them and then they’re suddenly gasping with his cock deep in their throat. A lot of oral, a lot of “you’re gonna take all of it” energy. And the game doesn’t pretend these guys are shy. Asses are big, heavy, shaking against his hips, tails lifted, begging for anal while still pretending they’re too proud for it. You get those slow scenes where he pushes in, inch by inch, and the other guy’s talking tough but his back keeps arching and you know he’s gone.

The tension with his sons sits in the background and keeps poking at you. They’re in the city, hiding, watching what kind of man he is now. Sometimes you think you’re just lining up another hookup, then the dialog drops something small, like “you sound like my old man”, and it hits you that these boys grew up under his old, harsh version. Harry, the younger brother, is like this sweet disaster trying to keep Samson from falling apart again, but he’s also a horny rhino in a very gay city. He jokes, flirts, shoves Samson toward guys who clearly want to get pounded by a chief who doesn’t know the meaning of “gentle”. The mobile format actually works: playing on the train with headphones, pretending you’re reading news on Chrome while Samson is railroading some smug fox over the squad car hood is a special kind of shame. I even almost tapped the wrong icon and opened WhatsApp while a scene had Samson tongue-deep under a wolf’s tail, which would have been hard to explain. The game is messy, emotional, sometimes melodramatic, sometimes just “shut up and suck me”, but that combo of family guilt, city secrets, and a hulking rhino cop using his authority to breed half the gay capital into submission sticks in your head way longer than it should.

Vault Wanderer is one of those horny little parody projects that feels like it started as a shitpost between friends on Discord and somehow became an actual game. You play this guy who crawls out of a comfy underground vault into a wasteland that is less about radiation and more about who is fucking who, and with what. The whole thing mixes classic turn based RPG combat with stupid jokes and very explicit scenes that just kind of slam into you out of nowhere. One second you are clicking through some goofy dialogue about bottle caps, the next you are watching a futa raider get her dick sucked in a surprisingly long animated loop while your character pretends he is not into it. The game loves voyeurism like crazy. Almost every location has some “oops I walked in on them” moment, except it is never really an accident and everybody is cool with you standing in the corner jerking off. Or pretending to “research.” The writing knows exactly what it is doing: it makes fun of the wasteland clichés, then uses the same clichés to justify a harem route where every big tits, big ass, wrong-race-for-this-town waifu somehow ends up in your camp.

What surprised me most is how messy but confident the sandbox structure is. You are just dropped on the surface with this point and click map and told to explore, and the game absolutely does not care if you go straight to a lesbian futa bar and stall your “main quest” for two hours doing nothing except footjobs and blowjobs in different outfits. There is real RPG stuff happening in the background: stats, turn based fights, random encounters that sometimes end in actual combat and sometimes turn straight into oral sex scenes if you pick the horny dialogue option. I lost one fight because I was too distracted watching the enemy’s boobs bounce in the attack animation, which is a stupid reason to reload, but here we are. The art is simple 2D CG but the animations have just enough motion to make the scenes feel alive without turning into weird rubber people. Some of the interracial setups are actually hot, then the game drops a joke so bad it short circuits the mood and you kind of hate it for ten seconds, until the next harem scene where three girls are roleplaying “capturing” you and you forget you were mad. The mobile support is oddly good too; I tried it on my phone while half-slouching on the couch with Chrome open and it ran smoother than some serious games on Steam. Sometimes the text spacing gets fucked on smaller screens and nobody bothered to fix it, which annoyed me for like a full minute while I was trying to read a masturbation scene and the last line wrapped in a stupid way, and then I clicked next and forgot. That is basically the whole vibe here: horny, rough around edges, a little broken, but when the wasteland mommy with huge boobs kneels down for oral and the camera zooms in just right, your brain stops caring about polish completely.

Local suburb, dead quiet, then this game drops you right in the middle of the kind of fucked up “family visit” everyone pretends never happens. You’re the short angry little dude in the house, the one with the chip on his shoulder and the impossible sister. She’s blonde, stacked like someone lost control with the breast slider, ass so fat it looks like the chair is about to file a complaint. She walks around like clothes are just a light suggestion, bending over in front of you, phone in her hand, half distracted, half teasing, like she knows exactly what she’s doing and still acts innocent. There’s this weird energy where you kinda hate her and kinda stare at her all the time. The game leans into that, hard. Sometimes she calls you “little man” and it stings more than it should. Sometimes she “forgets” to close her door and the angle you get is straight from a porn thumbnail. It feels trashy in a very deliberate way, like the dev is laughing and saying “yeah, you wanted this, don’t pretend.”

Then the local legends arrive. Big black dude, total neighborhood myth, the kind of guy every jealous little brother imagines as the worst possible scenario. Next to him, his smaller white sidekick, not small actually, just smaller than the giant. They show up with that lazy confident walk, like they already know what’s going to happen in this house and nobody can stop it. The moment they see your sister, the whole vibe shifts. Dialogue instantly goes from semi-normal to porn audition level, talking about her body, her ass, what they want to do to her, right in front of you. They’re not even subtle. It’s like the game wants you to sit in that humiliation, watching these walking meat towers size up your own blood, and the worst part is she doesn’t shut it down. She blushes, laughs, pretends to be offended, but she keeps giving them looks that say everything. The camera loves those moments, clinging to her huge boobs pressing against her shirt, her ass accidentally brushing against the black chad when she walks past him in the hallway. Accidentally. Sure.

There’s this one scene that stuck to my brain like gum on a shoe. You’re in the living room, pretending to play on your phone, but both of them are on the couch with her. She’s in the middle, practically drowning between them, the black guy’s hand stretched along the back of the couch, fingers a breath away from her shoulder, his white buddy leaning in close to whisper something in her ear that makes her cover her face with both hands. The text you get is pure taunt: they talk about “rearranging her insides,” about how your little body could never handle what she clearly wants. And the game doesn’t cut away. It lingers, zooms slightly, lets you see every little change in her expression while they crowd her space and you sit there, small, useless, pissed, and turned on in a way that makes you slightly hate yourself. It’s cheap, it’s crude, it’s absolutely not subtle, and then out of nowhere there’s one throwaway line from your sister showing she actually cares about you and it almost ruins the whole horny mood for a second. Almost. Then she bends over to pick something up, her ass swallowing her shorts, and your brain goes quiet again. I still don’t forgive the dev for the shitty text box font, by the way. It’s ugly as hell and I kept noticing it when I tried to focus on her tits, which feels like a crime.

It’s weird how a game can make your stomach twist like that - like jealousy and curiosity are kissing behind your ribs. Mina’s messages feel too real, her little hearts and half-sincere emojis landing harder than they should. You’re not just reading text bubbles; you’re kinda reading your own reflection, that insecure part that wants to check her phone when she’s in the shower. It’s not even about trust. It’s about the thrill of maybe finding something you shouldn’t. The game knows that. It plays you more than you play it. I kept thinking I’d stay calm, but then some random producer sent her a photo at midnight, and I swear I felt my pulse in my teeth.

There’s this moment - she sends a selfie that’s almost innocent. Almost. You can tell she’s not alone, though the frame pretends she is. That’s when I realized the point isn’t to “win” her back. The point’s to feel that sting, to let it crawl under your skin until it burns. The choices don’t really matter, or maybe they do, but the game’s so good at pretending they don’t that you start second-guessing your own reactions. I hated that. And loved it. Like when you know you’re being teased but you lean into it anyway. The music’s soft, too clean for what’s happening on-screen - it’s like watching a slow breakup inside a perfume ad.

I wish Mina’s typing bubbles didn’t take so long to appear. That wait feels cruel. But maybe that’s the best part. You stare, waiting, wondering what she’s doing while you wait. Sometimes I thought I wanted more pictures, more explicit proof, but when the game actually gives you something close to that, it’s worse. You want to look away, but you don’t. That’s the whole trick - it makes you complicit. It’s not about sex, not really. It’s about wanting to control what you can’t. And maybe that’s the dirtiest thing of all.

This Scooby-Doo parody hits different when you realize they actually made Fred watch from the corner. The gang's got this new guy who's basically speedrunning corruption routes faster than you can say "jinkies," and honestly? The outfits are what got me first - Velma's sweater gets progressively tighter each scene until it's basically painted on, while Daphne's whole wardrobe screams "I'm definitely not the innocent one anymore." But then the writing kicks in and suddenly you're watching Fred get absolutely demolished emotionally while this newcomer just... takes over everything. The animation style works surprisingly well for what they're going for, though I kept getting distracted by how Velma's glasses somehow stay perfectly positioned during the most ridiculous situations. Like, physics much?

The sandbox elements let you corrupt at your own pace, which sounds great until you realize there's actually optimal paths and you've been doing everything wrong for hours. Mystery-solving takes a backseat to mystery-creating, if you catch my drift. Daphne's scenes escalate way faster than Velma's, but that might just be because redheads are apparently easier targets in this universe. The group dynamics get wild when everyone's involved - there's this one sequence where the van is literally rocking and Fred's just standing outside looking confused. Poor guy never saw it coming. The dialogue tries too hard to be funny sometimes, throwing in "zoinks" every other sentence like we forgot what show this is parodying. But when the corruption really kicks in and the girls start suggesting their own "investigations," the writing actually gets pretty clever about subverting expectations.

What really sells it though is how they handle the trainer aspects - you're not just clicking through scenes, you're actively choosing who gets corrupted how and watching the ripple effects. The netorare elements aren't subtle at all, which honestly works better than trying to be coy about it. Fred's reactions range from oblivious to devastated, and watching that progression while Velma discovers she likes being watched is genuinely hot. Just don't expect any mystery-solving by the end.

Royal Madness is probably the closest thing to a horny fairytale written by a very drunk court painter who really likes cats with huge tits and smug faces. You’re tossed in as Lewis, bastard ocelot prince, and the world instantly treats your royal blood like a kink rather than a title. It’s not subtle about it. Every rival, every “enemy,” every supposed threat ends up circling one question: are you fucking them into your harem, or are they turning you into their cute little pet instead. The game doesn’t pretend to be noble. It treats power as a sex toy and nobility as an excuse to collar people and re-style their bodies until they match your tastes a bit too perfectly.

What I liked is that the characters aren’t just recolors of the same cat-girl with different boobs. The art actually feels like someone sat there and thought “ok, what if a smug lioness warlord had hips like a fertility statue and armor that only makes sense if her nipples are a political statement.” Sometimes it looks messy, lines a bit shaky, anatomy going off on its own adventure, but that fits the energy. It’s not corporate clean, more like horny sketchbook that got out of control. There is this rhino general, for example, huge chest, scars across the muzzle, and when you win their challenge the magic doesn’t just slap “now they are pretty” filter. No, you literally watch the body warp piece by piece, broad muscles smoothing or sharpening, maybe the tits swelling stupidly big while they gasp halfway between outrage and getting turned on by losing. That slow change hits way harder than a simple “transformation finished” screen.

The actual structure is that loose sandbox style where you hop from one hot mess to another, switching perspective between male and female protagonist when the story feels like it, not when you are ready. One scene you’re Lewis using magic to slowly erode the pride of a tiger knight, teasing him until his cock and even his voice betray how much he wants to kneel. Next time the game flips and you’re playing as one of your own ex-rivals, now loyal, wandering your palace and accidentally starting something filthy with a new intruder who thought they’d be the one on top. That shift is the fun part. You see the same harem from different eyes, sometimes as a conqueror, sometimes as the newest toy, sometimes as the one being “improved” by your own magic. And the kinks slide around too. One route gives you a stacked lion queen that you carefully nudge from terrifying monarch into doting, overprotective mommy dom, then another throws you against a seemingly submissive bunny clerk that ends with you collared, hips reshaped, moaning her name while she tests how flexible ocelot royalty can be when properly “reformed.” Half the time I was cursing at the tiny UI buttons and weird pacing, the other half I was staring at the screen of my phone on the tram, trying not to bite my lip like a complete idiot.

If you really want to squeeze every filthy drop out of it, don’t rush straight to the obvious sex scenes. Poke around the challenges, lose on purpose sometimes, see how the transformations twist when you’re the loser instead of the victor. Talk to characters again after you’ve changed them, especially the big tits crowd and the ones who pretended they didn’t care about you. Watch how their new bodies and new roles corrupt their own original goals. Treat each battle less like a level and more like a negotiation with the world’s nastiest fashion designer. That’s where the game actually gets hot.

Waking up inside a smartphone because a horny trickster god got bored with you is already wild, but this thing leans into it hard. You used to fuck other guys’ wives, now you’re literally trapped inside their husbands, riding along in their bodies like a cursed passenger. You feel what they feel, see what they see, and you’re stuck with their hard-ons, their guilt, their shitty life choices. Loki basically turned you into a pervy parasite and then sits there laughing while you try not to lose your mind every time some big titty wife bends over in front of “you”. It’s not subtle. It’s not gentle. It’s that kind of story where the universe kicks you in the balls and then asks if you liked it.

The pace is weird in the best way. Sometimes you’re just scrolling messages and photos, swiping through this guy’s life, then suddenly the wife walks in wearing nothing but a towel that barely holds her big ass, drops it “by accident”, starts teasing him like she’s bored and horny at the same time. You’re inside his head, feeling the heat climb, his cock getting hard under the table while she pretends it’s no big deal, sucking on a popsicle right in his face like a joke that goes too far. There’s this nasty, delicious corruption vibe, because half the time you’re pushing him to give in, whispering in his thoughts, “Touch her, go on, fuck her, she wants it”, and the other half you’re actually panicking, because you know some of these women are already being fucked behind his back by someone else. Or they will. Loki keeps hinting, poking, showing you clips, screenshots, little details that make you question everything. The netorare sting isn’t a sudden shock, it crawls under your skin. You see a lipstick mark that shouldn’t be there, a chat icon popping up a bit too often, a photo angle that screams “someone else took this”. You’re still jerking off in your own head when you realize you’re probably not the only one tasting her tonight.

What really got me is how horny it stays even when it gets mean. You’ve got slow, intimate scenes where she sits on his lap and grinds on him through thin panties, whispering soft romance shit in his ear, kissing his neck, guiding his hands under her top, making him feel her huge tits while she bites her lip. Then suddenly she’s on her knees, sucking him off messy, drool on her chin, eyes staring up like she’s in love and also in total control. The AI CG stuff has that slightly unreal polish, but in a good way, like you’re watching a fantasy that became just real enough to hurt. Vaginal, oral, stripping piece by piece, teasing until you want to scream at the screen. And you’re not actually “doing” anything, it’s a kinetic story, so your only job is to watch this guy live the life you deserved and kind of hate him for it, while Loki treats you like a pet he toys with. The worst part is that it works. One moment you’re melting when she cuddles up, saying she’s scared to lose him, the next your gut twists because something she says doesn’t match, and you know you’re being played from both sides. It’s horny, cruel, funny in that “I shouldn’t be laughing, but I am” way. Dare to play it alone, or invite company?

It’s weird, the way *A Fortnight at Frenni Fazclaire’s 2* plays with tone - like, one moment it’s soft lighting and syrupy teasing from an animatronic wolf with silicone lips that catch the club’s pink glow just right, and the next second you’re hearing metal sc*** in the next room like something mechanical trying to breathe. I couldn’t decide if I was turned on or spooked half the time, which maybe is the point. The writing leans into that uncanny space where synthetic skin meets real loneliness, though sometimes it feels too self-aware about being a parody. It’s as if it winks so much it forgets to blink. Still, when Mia Mangle leans across the security desk and says things she shouldn’t know - stuff only the player would think - it hits that strange nerve of digital intimacy that good adult games sometimes stumble into by accident.

The furries here aren’t played for cheap fetish fuel (okay, not *just* that). There’s tension in every movement, more like stage performers improvising after hours than machines following code. I kept thinking about Nabokov because yeah, it’s sexy, but it’s also about control and play and being observed while pretending not to care. And then there’s the mobile version, where tapping through dialogue feels like petting something alive that pretends to glitch. Sometimes choices freeze for no reason - probably a bug - but it almost fits the mood: desire interrupted by static. The horror bits creep slow; shadows twitch behind velvet curtains even during explicit scenes, and the sound design hums under your skin like anxiety that smells faintly of perfume.

Honestly, the worst part is the damn loading screen image - I hate that smug smile they gave Aurora. Every time she flickers in before the menu loads, I kinda want her to malfunction just to break the eye contact. But when she starts singing that low note (yeah, she sings), everything stutters into this mix of comedy and obscene tenderness. Maybe I imagined that part. Or maybe the game wanted me to. Hard to tell where the line’s supposed to be anymore.

Two anxious lesbians, one shitty small-town hotel, and of course the last room left has a single bed. That’s the whole setup, and weirdly, it’s enough. The game doesn’t pretend to be some wild porn buffet, so if you’re expecting constant moaning and fluids everywhere, nah. This is more “oh fuck, her thigh is touching mine, do I move away or die here” energy. You click through their internal panic, their awkward jokes, that quiet tension when the room suddenly feels way too warm and nobody wants to be the first one to admit they’ve been crushing for ages. It’s slow, like watching two eggs try to flirt, but there’s something really honest about it. Not “queer for the male gaze” nonsense, more like “I’ve actually been that girl pretending to scroll Instagram while my heart beats like crazy because she rolled closer in bed”.

The art hits that cute and slightly shy vibe, not hyper-sexualized. Soft expressions, some blush, messy hair from a cheap pillow. You get a lot of focus on faces, on eyes looking away then back again, and small details like how their bodies shift closer without any big dramatic moves. When the game finally lets things get physical, it feels earned. Like, you actually went through the stomach knots first. There is kissing, touching, that little moment where one of them hesitates with her hand under the sheet like “is this really ok?” and the other practically melts at being wanted. It is hot, but not in a “fuck me daddy” way, more “I’ve wanted you for so long and I’m terrified but also so wet I can’t think straight” way. The sex scenes don’t go super graphic, there’s no huge list of positions or toys or whatever. It’s simple: hands, mouths, closeness, body warmth. The “porn” is the emotional build-up, which might annoy some people who just want quick masturbation material. To be real, I wished at least once they went a bit dirtier, like some actual explicit dirty talk, but the shy romantic tone never really breaks. One tiny thing that drove me mad: the way one of them keeps overexplaining feelings in her head mid-makeout, like girl, you’re not writing a diary, just grab her ass and breathe.

Still, I liked that it feels unapologetically lesbian, not a “bi-but-secretly-for-men” fake scenario. No random male intruder, no “what if your boyfriend finds out,” no bullshit. Just two girls who have known each other too long, stuck in a cheap room with one bed and a pile of emotions they’ve been pretending not to see. You feel the weight of shared history in tiny lines, like when one remembers how the other cried on her shoulder years ago, and that memory shows up again when they’re pressed together under the same blanket. It made me think of old queer fanfics on LiveJournal, before everything tried to be polished and SEO-friendly. There is romance, like actual romance, where consent is checked without turning into a lecture, where the affection doesn’t vanish once hands slide under shirts. Some moments do drag; one inner monologue goes in circles so much I almost alt-tabbed to Twitter just to breathe, but then there’s this one line where she admits she’s scared the other will regret it in the morning, and it hits way too close to home if you ever had internalized shit about your own desire. It’s horny, but it’s also about that queer fear that sex might ruin the friendship. And when their bodies finally align and someone lets out that first honest, helpless sound, it feels like more than just “oh nice, tits”. It feels like two girls deciding that yeah, this is worth the risk, even if tomorrow is awkward as hell.