You wake up broke, horny, and back in your old room that still smells a bit like teenage shame and cheap body spray, and the game just kind of grins and says, “yeah, this is where it starts.” You’re this young psychology guy who thought he had life sorted, then it all collapses and you crawl back to mom’s house. Only mom isn’t just “mom” anymore. She’s this thick, soft, dangerous kind of beautiful, the kind that makes your eyes slide over her curves against your will. She walks around the house in clothes that hug her huge tits and that insane ass in a way no actual mother should, bending over the couch while you pretend to look away and fail every single time. The camera loves her, almost too much. It lingers on the subtle stuff, the underwear line digging into her hips, the way her nipple outline threatens to show when she moves. You’re supposed to feel guilty. You don’t. Or you do, but it just makes your dick harder. It’s that kind of story.

Then there are the sisters, and yeah, the game knows exactly what it’s doing. The older one moves like a witch who realized she can control a room just by existing. Goth clothes, dark nails that look like they’d hurt when she scratches your back, eyes that tell you she thinks you’re trash but her body keeps betraying her, slower each day. There’s this moment where you “accidentally” walk in while she’s bent over her desk in fishnets, headphones in, skirt just not quite long enough, and the main character just stands there too long while you feel his thoughts going places they absolutely shouldn’t. Later, when the hypnosis angle really kicks in, watching her resist you with this mix of hatred and arousal, hips still grinding in spite of her words, that’s where the corruption hits harder than any sex scene. She spits insults while she rides your cock, then trembles when you ask her who owns that tight ass now, and her voice breaks on the answer. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. It’s both at once. The younger sister is the opposite weather: all pastel pink, soft hair, candy wrappers, plush toys, girly socks that should not look so good wrapped around your waist. She trusts you way too much. She curls against you during a movie, her small tits brushing your arm, and the game slows the moment just enough that you feel that sharp, dirty edge when your hand lingers longer than it should on her thigh. Later, with the mind control, teaching her to touch herself on command, watching her bite her lip while she obeys, that’s the point where “romance” and “corruption” almost merge into this twisted little love story that you’re not sure you’re supposed to enjoy so much.

The hypnotherapist is the real doorway drug. Mom’s friend, older but still tight where it counts, eyes that see too much and voice that rolls over you like warm honey. You sit in her office as “assistant,” pretending to take notes while she drops other women into deep trance, fingers playing with their minds and their bodies at the same time, and you’re there, hard under the desk, memorizing every word, every pattern. There’s a point when she leans down behind a patient and guides the girl’s mouth on a toy, whispering triggers, and your brain just goes click. After that, going home feels different. Sleeping bodies don’t feel safe anymore. The game leans into sleep sex in a way that’s almost too intimate. Like, you stand over your mom’s bed at night, listening to her slow breathing, watching her tits rise and fall under the thin fabric, and one tiny suggestion you planted earlier makes her legs spread a little. She mumbles your name in her sleep while you slide your hand under her panties and the guilt is there, but it’s distant, like a voice behind glass. Same with the sisters, those late-night scenes where the younger one is half-asleep, squirming and moaning softly as your fingers tease her soaked slit, or the older one clenching around your cock in her sleep, cursing you in her dreams while her body begs for more. The game doesn’t flinch from that dirty intimacy. It loves deepthroats that go too far, tears at the corner of her eyes, spit and mascara mess. It loves big tits bouncing while you fuck them, cocks sliding between them until you paint her chest white. It loves asses, god, the asses: thick ebony hips, mom’s juicy milf curves, your sister’s perfect goth bubble butt stretched around your shaft when you finally push into her tight hole and she squirts all over the sheets. Anal, vaginal, titfucks, creampies that drip out slowly while she walks around the house pretending nothing happened. Sex toys buzzing between thighs, collars and ropes appearing on the “good girl” routes that still somehow pretend to be romantic. There’s a weird tenderness under all that filth too, like when you watch your own cum slowly swell inside a belly on the pregnancy scenes, or when a character you’ve completely twisted still smiles at you like you’re her whole world. It’s wrong. It’s beautiful in a fucked way. It feels like you’re building a harem out of people who were once your family, your patients, your lovers, turning them into obedient, wet puppets and devoted partners at the same time, and the game just lets you keep going, deeper, softer, nastier, never really asking you to justify any of it. I just wish the text messages inside the game didn’t use that ugly default pop-up style, it pulls you out for a second, but then somebody drops to their knees, takes you so deep they choke, and suddenly you forget you were annoyed at all.

Boruto in this game feels less like a hero and more like that horny disaster main guy from a messy romance anime who suddenly got handed a cheat power that strips everyone’s brakes off. Not mind control, not some magic “you love me now”, more like turning up the volume on what they already want and then watching them try to pretend nothing is happening. One late meeting with this strange hooded freak in the street and boom, the whole village turns into a pressure cooker of lust, shame and “I definitely shouldn’t be doing this but I’m already touching you so fuck it”. The game leans hard into that feeling. You walk around like in a small RPG sandbox, poking at people’s boundaries, watching them crack a little, then a lot. Hinata, Sakura, Sarada, even the “proper” types, they all feel like they have this hidden script under the skin, and your new power finds it. One moment Hinata is doing the worried mom thing, nagging you about training, next moment she’s blushing so hard you know she’s picturing your cock buried in her and hating herself for it. The game lets you push. Or not. Sometimes the nicest scenes come from being patient. Sometimes you just bend her over the table and pound her full of cum until she’s dripping down her thighs, whispering “I’m a bad mother” while still begging for more.

What surprised me is how much actual “story feel” there is between the porn beats. It’s not just walking from sex scene to sex scene. There’s this weird tension like a romance anime that lost its PG rating way too early and never looked back. You have those long talks with Sarada where she tries to act like a serious future leader, except you notice how often her eyes flick to your crotch after a certain event. Then you get that first scene where you corrupt that seriousness, bit by bit, maybe starting with “innocent” groping during training, ending in you filling her ass while she bites her glove to not scream your name. The turn based combat is almost funny in contrast, like someone glued a small classic RPG onto a corruption doujin. It works though. Beating some random threat in an alley and then using the stress of the situation to corner a flustered girl into giving you a sloppy, rushed blowjob feels way more dirty than if it just appeared in a menu. There are choices, too, and not all of them are cozy. You can humiliate, you can be gentle, you can act like a dom asshole with a soft spot. One route had me spanking Sakura so hard her ass turned bright red and she still tried to scold me like a teacher, right up until I slid inside her and she completely lost the act. Another run I tried to play more submissive, letting one of the girls take charge and peg me with that unexpected futa situation, and honestly it hit like that one weird hentai manga you secretly keep saved in a separate folder on your phone. Incest tension with Hinata is handled like a slow-burn car crash, every choice making it worse and hotter at the same time. On top of that, the AI style CG gives everything this slightly unreal, dreamy quality that fits the whole “desire is leaking into reality and nobody is safe” vibe. Some scenes are rough, some are loving, some are just trashy and fun, and the game kind of shrugs and tells you: this is on you. You wanted this.

Monet feels like somebody took a regular city, squeezed out all the warmth, and replaced it with glass, chrome and secrets. IRYS throws you in there like you just woke up from a dream you half remember, wearing a cheap suit and an ID badge that says you belong to Deimos. You start as this regular office guy, doing spreadsheets, watching useless meetings on Zoom while pretending to listen, getting coffee that tastes like it was filtered through somebody’s sadness. On the surface it’s that boring corporate life. Then you start noticing small weird things. People know things about you that you never told them. A coworker remembers a night you “spent together” that you’re pretty damn sure never happened. Your boss praises you for a project you have no memory of, and in the same breath hints that you owe him more than just good performance. That’s when the game starts to crawl under your skin a little.

The horny part doesn’t show up like a hentai pop-up. It slips into the routine. You’re in a late-night office review, just you and this colleague with big soft tits almost falling out of her blouse, blue light from the monitor on her skin, both of you talking about quarterly targets like robots. Then there’s a line of dialogue that feels too intimate. She leans in too close. Her hand stays too long on your shoulder. One click and you push her away and keep pretending to be a good boy. Another click and you grab her wrist, pull her into your lap, and suddenly your boring Excel sheet is sharing space with her moans and the sound of your cock sliding into her on the boss’s fancy ergonomic chair. IRYS is like that a lot. It gives you these “professional” masks and waits for you to peel them off. Sex scenes are very physical, animated just enough that when you’re fucking her against the office window or bending her over a lab table, you feel every thrust. Sometimes you are gentle, slow, like she is something you want to protect from this fucked up city. Other times the corruption hits and you use her, hand on her throat, filling her raw and hard while she begs you not to stop, even when the guilt dialogue kicks in afterward and makes you question if those feelings are yours or some Deimos script injected into your brain.

What really got me was how the romance and the sci-fi mess bleed into each other. There is this one scene where you wake up in your small apartment, naked, next to a coworker you definitely did not take home. Her hair is messy, thighs still glistening, your cum leaking out of her, and she looks at you like you have been lovers for months. You check your phone and there are whole chat logs, selfies, dirty pics, little heart emojis, like a full relationship that someone speedran while you were asleep. It feels like the universe glitched and rewrote your fate. As somebody who actually believes in destiny, that hit weird. You start asking: did I really fall for her before and just forgot, or was this romance manufactured in some secret Deimos experiment so they can pull my strings better? Later, when you take her in the back of the office, pressed against a server rack humming with data, her legs wrapped around your waist while you fuck her deep and she whispers that you were “always meant for each other”, you can’t even tell if that’s sweet or just another line of code. The game loves putting you in those moments. You climax inside her during some illegal lab test, alarms faint in the background, and instead of simple post-nut clarity you get this strange dream flash of another timeline where you never joined Deimos and she never existed. IRYS keeps poking: is your dick leading you, or is the company guiding your dick so it can own your heart and your guilt at the same time. I kinda hate that it works so well. I also kinda love it. I’m confused. It fits the city.

Underfoot feels like that moment when you tell yourself “nah, I can handle this kink” and then three scenes later you’re staring at the screen, pants halfway down, wondering when exactly you lost all moral brakes. It throws you right into the guy’s shoes, except the game clearly cares more about what’s happening under those shoes. The whole thing is framed like you’re this semi-normal dude with a partner you actually like, but the real star is how fast your brain starts bending once other people, other hands, and especially other feet get involved. The netorase angle isn’t just some checkbox, it’s basically the spine: you’re not just watching someone fuck your woman, you’re low-key helping, guiding, and pretending you’re still in control while the game just taps “are you sure?” over and over. And yeah, I clicked yes every single time.

The foot focus is not subtle. If you’re even a little weak for toes, soles, arches, stockings, all that, it’s dangerous. There were moments where nothing “big” was happening, just a slow footjob under the table, and that worked on me harder than full-on group sex later. The game is kind of mean about it too: it keeps giving you angles where you barely see the rest of the body, just her heels pressing your already used cock, or her pantyhose wrinkling around her toes while she uses you like some stress ball. It’s the kind of pacing I usually hate, but here it almost felt like a leaderboard challenge: how long can you keep your sanity while your character keeps letting other guys get in on the fun and you’re stuck with her feet or the “reward” creampie that doesn’t even fully belong to you. And I swear, whoever wrote those small corrupting choices really understands that nasty “I know this is wrong but fuck it” feeling. You tell her to flirt “just a little,” then that “little” turns into her sitting between two dudes, your dick trapped between her soles while they go for other holes. At that point it’s not even jealousy anymore, it’s this weird proud humiliation, like you’re top-ranking in some hidden cuck scoreboard only degenerates can see.

What surprised me is how casual the corruption creeps in. At first it’s like, ok, she’s teasing you with her feet, maybe a solo anal scene to spice things up, nothing crazy, just you two. Then someone else walks into frame. Then another. Then she’s taking multiple cocks at once, and you’re there, on the side, getting a sloppy, almost lazy footjob while watching. It hits harder because you kinda asked for this. You get those little “innocent” choices that sound safe, until you realize they opened the door for her to say “it’s just sex, relax” while she gets filled and you’re not even the main event. The cheating isn’t sneaky either, it’s right in your face, like the game is grabbing your head and turning it toward every thrust. I liked that I felt complicit, but also kind of pathetic, which is honestly what I’m chasing with this genre more than some perfect ending. There is swinging flavor too, but it always comes back to her feet and your role as the guy who thought he was orchestrating everything, then ends up happy to be used like an afterthought. By the last scenes I wasn’t even checking my usual “challenge list” anymore, just waiting to see how much further she’d go while you still pretend you’re fine with all of it. Spoiler: you’re not fine, but your dick absolutely is.

You start as this quiet guardian angel, not some shining armor guy, more like a nosy mod in a cursed Discord server, watching a girl in a city that feels cut off from the rest of the world. At first it’s almost calm: narrow streets, fog stuck between the buildings, people pretending they’re normal while catgirls and foxgirls just wander around like it’s nothing. You don’t walk in the city yourself, you nudge it. Tiny choices, small pushes, changing who she meets and what kind of shit she gets dragged into. One run she’s shy, hiding under hoodies and closing curtains, another run she’s half naked in a bar window, acting like she forgot what shame is. The game never stands up and says “here is the corruption route now,” it just lets scenes creep in. A dirty job offer here, a “favor” there, some pervy landlord watching her undress through a crack in the wall while you decide whether to stop it or see what happens next. It feels wrong and interesting at the same time, which I guess is the point.

The city itself slowly turns into this living kink playground if you let it. That quiet back alley becomes the place where she ends up on her knees between two strangers, trying to keep eye contact with you, like she still hopes some angel is actually watching. One decision earlier you told her to take that “easy money,” now she is in a cheap motel room with a group of guys, mascara smeared, trying to act like she’s fine with being used as a cum dump. If you push her harder, the outfits get bolder, tops vanish, skirts get shorter, and suddenly every corner has someone wanting a taste. Interracial scenes in cramped stairwells, public blowjob next to a parked car while a foxgirl girl records it on her phone, lesbian stuff in a steamy bathhouse where she lets another girl pin her to the wall and ride her face until she almost passes out. Sometimes she’s on top, humiliating some poor bastard, spitting in his mouth, choking him a little. Next day she’s the one getting slapped, called a whore, forced to say thank you while a crowd watches and laughs. The game swings between male dom, femdom, and just pure chaos, and the whole time you’re stuck in this weird zen state, clicking options like “encourage” or “ignore” while people choke each other out in graphic, messy detail.

What really hits is when the violence ramps up and the sex doesn’t stop. There is this scene where some thugs drag her behind a warehouse, and it’s not soft at all. She gets pinned to cold concrete, legs forced open, you see the panic, then that fucked up moment where panic turns into something else. Blood, spit, rough thrusts, her voice cracking between begging and moaning, and you’re still there in your little guardian menu, deciding whether to call in a miracle or just let it scar her more. Next playthrough maybe you steer her towards a brothel instead, and now prostitution is almost “cleaner” by comparison: a line of clients, one after another, her learning how to deepthroat while a madam talks about prices. She leans into exhibitionism too, standing under a flickering streetlight in nothing but a thin top, nipples visible, pretending she’s cold while secretly getting turned on by all the staring eyes. Sometimes you do nothing and just watch her through cameras, like a voyeur god, as she lazily rides a guy on a sofa and stares at the invisible you, almost like she knows she’s never alone. The sandbox thing means you just kind of wander between events, trigger something wild, then waste time talking to some random catgirl who wants her tail pulled. It’s messy, uneven, too slow in parts, and yet that fits. Like sex where you both lose rhythm, laugh a bit, then go harder and rougher than before. The girl changes, the city changes, and somewhere in there, you realize you stopped trying to “protect” her and started being curious how far down she can slide.

Alyssia wakes up in the dark like the world forgot her. No memories, no name on her tongue, just this slow echo of fear and heat under the skin. The first thing that cuts through the fog is your voice in her head. Not some noble guardian angel crap, not a perfect hero. Just you, whispering into this pretty little warrior with big soft breasts, thick thighs and that perfect ass you immediately want to see pressed against something hungry. The game doesn’t rush. It lets her stumble through ruined hallways and dead forests, half naked in shredded armor, breathing loud enough that you almost feel it in your own chest. Every sound is close to the ear: the squish of mud, her boots scraping stone, her tiny gasps when she brushes against a corrupted vine that twitches a bit too eager against her legs. You’re not clicking through a checklist. You’re… inside her skull, nudging her toward danger or safety, and the line between those two starts to blur so fast it’s almost funny.

The crazy part is how quiet it gets right before the fucked up stuff happens. No big horror sting, no “watch out!” flashing. She turns a corner, the music goes almost silent, you feel this slow pressure in your chest, and then some shadow thing with too many limbs pins her to a wall and that’s it. Armor bent aside, tits spilling, eyes wide, and you’re choosing what she says, if she fights, if she gives in. First time a monster shoves something thick and wet between her lips, she tries to bite, to resist, gagging around it while another tendril slips between her cheeks and starts teasing her ass. And you can tell the artists had fun here. The AI CG looks like someone begged the model to worship curves. Her body is soft but strong, the way her stomach tightens when she’s lifted up and spread, pussy dripping while she gets filled front and back. Double stuffed, her moans half anger, half confused arousal as you decide if she clings to her lost “honor” or lets that corruption seep deeper. Sometimes the camera lingers on simple things, like a strand of spit connecting her mouth to a fat monster cock after a messy blowjob, or cum leaking out in a slow drip after a brutal creampie that leaves her shaking and glassy eyed. And yeah, I wish the UI text wasn’t that tiny in one of the dialogue menus, but anyway, back to her getting railed.

There’s this romantic thread sneaking through the filth that caught me off guard. If you keep pulling her toward softer choices, she’ll start talking to you like you’re her lover, not just a voice. She blushes when you tell her she did good, even when she’s on her knees, face splattered, swallowing every last drop like it’s the only thing keeping her sane. You can steer her into something sweeter, tender kisses before sex, the way she slowly relaxes when a human-looking partner takes her gently, sliding into her wet pussy while she wraps her legs around their waist and actually smiles. Or you can drag her down to the point she doesn’t even flinch when something huge pushes into her ass and pussy at the same time, her mind so twisted by you that multiple penetration feels like home now. The game remembers those choices. She learns to beg. Or she learns to love. Or both, which is honestly the best outcome. One run she ends in a warm embrace, another she’s a used little toy for whatever monsters crawl out of the dark, dripping cum, eyes lost, completely yours in the worst way. And not gonna lie, the moment she looks at the “camera” and whispers “Stay with me… don’t leave my head” after everything you made her do? That hit harder than it should.

Tokyo doesn’t feel like a hometown here, it feels like a hungry animal that wants to eat your time, your money, and your dick at the same time. You come back after Miami, all “fresh graduate, big dreams” and boom: dead dad, shitty boarding house, mountains of debt, and a bunch of hot women orbiting your life like they just smelled fresh meat. The game doesn’t pretend to be deep art. It’s straight up “live, grind, fuck, repeat” but somehow it hits that lonely horny brain spot, like scrolling Tinder and then opening Pornhub because no one replied. You run around the city, trying not to pass out from low energy while deciding if you want to be a responsible adult or just shove your face in every pair of tits that appears in a cutscene. Spoiler: I tried the responsible route for like ten minutes. Then a certain “landlady type” showed up with those soft moans and that fake innocent voice and suddenly I “forgot” to pay off debt and spent my last cash chasing a creampie scene.

What gets me is how normal it can feel at first. You’re just working shifts, checking status bars like Energy, Satiety, Hygiene, Fun, clicking stuff like a zombie, listening to the voiced lines and thinking “ok, it’s just a sim, chill.” Then a JAV looking pornstar model pops on screen in that censored style, moaning in Japanese while you make her choke on your cock, and your brain melts a bit. I had one run where I was trying to keep everyone sort of happy, like a fake wholesome harem, and next thing I know I’m groping someone on public transport, getting away with some very wrong shit, and that corruption curve just sneaks in. First she blushes. Then she starts grinding back. Then she’s begging to be filled and you’re checking if you have enough Hygiene to go another round. And yeah, there’s incest flavor here too, the kind that makes you stare at the monitor for a second and go “ah fuck it” and click anyway. Don’t pretend you won’t. One scene you’re just chatting, next scene there’s a handjob under the table, next it’s full-on oral, cum dripping, censored pixel bar wiggling like crazy, and you tell yourself “I’m only doing this route once” and then absolutely don’t.

It calls itself a dating thing but you know how dating apps are: technically about love, realistically about who you can fuck before your battery hits zero. Same vibe. You can chase career stuff, grind your position, build income, try to act like a grown-up, or you can just care about unlocking every filthy animated scene with every girl, stacking them like trophies. I had this moment where I was completely broke, hygiene in the gutter, fun bar empty, didn’t even have enough money to eat, but I still chose to stalk another cutscene because I knew it would end with her on her knees, drooling on my shaft. Quality priorities. Some of the harassment stuff is just pure trash behavior, like, if you saw that in real life you’d report the dude, but here you mash the button and watch her slowly turn from offended to addicted. Corruption done in that slow, dirty way, where “no” turns into “only the tip” and then you’re fucking her raw and dumping a creampie inside while she tries to keep her voice down. It’s messed up, but that’s kind of the point. And in between all that sex, you’re still brushing your teeth in-game, watching your Hygiene stat, like some weird responsible pervert. Makes sense somehow.

Honeymoon Shift feels like walking into a small private gallery room where someone hung only four paintings, but each one is about fucking your whole idea of trust. It starts almost sweet: Viktor finally got his honeymoon with Taylor, sun, cocktails, their bodies relaxed, that kind of soft vacation horniness where you look at your wife’s bikini and already think about peeling it off later. Then another couple shows up. You know the type from resorts: good smiles, too touchy, too curious, a bit too interested in what ring size your wife wears and how long you’ve been together. The game lets you sit in Viktor’s head while that interest slowly turns from “friendly” to “I want to see your wife’s tits bounce under someone else.” And you are the one who decides how far this goes, even when it hurts to click.

What I like is how it doesn’t throw porn at you right away. It teases. A hand brushing a thigh under the table. A slightly drunk kiss that lasts one second too long. The first time Taylor gives you a handjob in the hotel shower after she spent the whole dinner laughing with the other guy, it doesn’t feel like simple fan service, it feels defensive. Like she’s jerking you off to prove something, to herself, to you, to him. The animation is quiet, wet strokes, your cum on her fingers, and the camera stays in just the wrong distance so you stare at her face more than at your dick. That annoyed me and I liked it at same time. Later, when she kneels for oral and her lips are shining around your shaft, you already have doubts in your head if she’s replaying another man there. You know nothing really terrible happened yet, but your stomach already starts to twist. Or maybe I’m just paranoid. Maybe I’m not. Hard to say.

There is this one path where you let the flirting breathe instead of shutting it down, and it slowly corrupts the whole trip. A small “harmless” kiss by the pool when everyone is tipsy. A “truth or dare” that obviously is just an excuse to get Taylor half naked in front of them, big tits pressing against a half-open robe. She pretends she’s embarrassed, but her nipples tell a different story. Sex with her after that is rougher, hotter, like she’s turned on by her own cheating even if she’s not fully admitting it. When you push into her and end with a creampie, she squeezes you with this greedy little shiver that feels wrong and perfect. The game doesn’t scream that you’re being cuckolded, it just lets you notice small things: the way she checks her phone, the way she adjusts her swimsuit when that other man looks, how her hips roll a bit different when you fuck her from behind. You get multiple endings, and not all are dramatic; some are just quietly cruel. In one, you keep the relationship, but you can’t unsee what she did with someone else’s mouth and cock, and the game lets you sit in that, like staring at a painting too long until you see all the cracks. I will say though, sometimes Viktor’s inner talk goes in circles and you just want him to shut up so you can watch his wife get ruined properly, but then again, that tension is what makes the later scenes of swinging and quiet hotel-room corruption hit harder. It’s less about how many holes get filled and more about how heavy your chest feels when she smiles and you don’t know if that smile is still only yours.

Cross Worlds looks pretty harmless on the surface. You’re just some burned‑out city guy who lands in a “better” version of his own life, right? Yeah, no. Give it ten minutes and you’re already neck‑deep in weird magic bullshit, hot monster girls, and this creeping sense that your brain is not fully your own anymore. The game plays like a dating sim had a messy one‑night stand with a fantasy adventure VN and forgot to use protection. You talk, you flirt, you poke around the town, poke around the guild, poke around the girls, and the game slowly teaches you that your emotions are basically weapons. Or toys. Depends how much of a bastard you want to be. One moment you’re just trying to figure out where the fuck the inn is, the next moment you realize you can nudge what a girl is feeling, just slightly, and suddenly she “decides” it’s fine to show a little more skin in public than she ever would. It starts with blushes and small favors, then you’re pushing them into situations where they’re half naked in crowded streets, pretending it’s normal and they’re totally fine, while you know damn well you twisted their mind just enough to enjoy it.

The mind control here is not in-your-face hypnosis with spirals and cheesy phrases, it’s more like emotional corruption dressed as “self‑discovery”. There’s this one scene where a monster girl adventurer is acting all proud and heroic, and if you play it right you slowly chip at that armor, turning her protective instinct into something hungry and needy, until she’s on her knees in a back alley, drool on her chin, stuffing your cock in her mouth like it’s some divine quest reward. She keeps glancing over her shoulder because people might walk by, and the game actually leans into that, letting you decide if you push her to keep going or let her cling to a bit of dignity. Spoiler: I did not let her. And the game kind of rewards you for being a dick. You feel the MC’s “force” inside him growing every time you cross that line, every time you turn a normal situation into something filthy. That healer girl who just wanted to help you? Turn her “healing checkup” into a full inspection where she ends up naked on the clinic table, legs spread, insisting it’s just part of the exam while her tits are practically spilling out and your hand is on her throat holding her still. She doesn’t even understand why her body reacts so hard to your touch, and you definitely don’t explain it to her.

What I like is that the game doesn’t scream at you “you are evil now”. It just quietly keeps track while you go from awkward newbie to a guy who can rearrange a woman’s priorities till sucking you off in some temple corner feels more important than her actual god. There’s a weird “hero ranking” thing going on, where the same powers you use to charm and control girls also make you rise in status in the city, so half the time you’re talking about quests and monsters, and the other half you’re arranging “training sessions” that magically end with some big tit warrior pinned against a wall, armor half transformed into something more revealing, her moaning loud enough that people outside probably hear everything. It has those slow-burn corruption scenes where a shy mage starts off covering herself even in casual clothes, then a few chapters later she walks around in something so tiny that if she bends over, the whole street gets a show. And she blushes, yeah, but she doesn’t stop, because you already rewired her to crave the eyes on her body. The fun part is when you catch yourself using the emotion options almost automatically, like opening Instagram without thinking. You tell yourself “I’ll play the nice route this time” then the game politely hands you a chance to push a girl just a bit further than last time, a little more public, a little more rough, and your finger just clicks it like, of course.

Day starts kinda boring, you’re half scrolling Instagram, half thinking if it’s worth opening Steam or just YouTube again, and then this crazy shit drops in your lap: Ash busts in like a walking jumpscare, shouting about some luxury resort trip she “totally won.” No emails checked, no contract read, just vibes. Next thing, your stuff’s thrown in a bag and you’re headed to this rich-people playground that feels like someone mixed Pornhub categories with a corporate onboarding seminar. Everything looks too clean, too glossy, like the kind of place where the staff smiles a little too wide while pretending they don’t see you eye-fucking every milf around the pool.

The game does that thing where it lets you pick who you wanna be, and it actually matters a bit, not just a haircut swap. Different angles on the same messed up little paradise. Sometimes you’re the guy who can’t stop staring at his “aunt’s” ass while she bends over her suitcase, sometimes you’re catching your “sister” in the shower through a half-fogged glass panel and pretending you’re just “checking the water.” Yeah, it leans hard into that fake family taboo, like those sketchy Pornhub titles that autoplay when you just wanted a normal blowjob video. There’s a lot of quiet moments too, just you sitting in a fancy room, scrolling through some in-game phone app, pretending to be innocent while actually planning how to corrupt everyone around you, one accidental touch at a time.

What I kinda love, but also kinda hate, is how the resort itself acts like it’s on your side. Cameras everywhere. Doors that don’t fully close. Windows you can “accidentally” peek through. There’s this one scene where you’re supposed to go to some “relaxation session,” but if you mess around instead and follow the wrong hallway, you end up watching a full-on handjob through a tinted glass wall, your reflection overlaid on their bodies like you’re already part of it. The game doesn’t treat voyeurism like some small side thing, it just keeps pushing it: late night spying on a milf in her room, catching her playing with herself on the edge of the bed, big tits half out, moaning into a pillow while you’re stuck on the other side of the door with your dick hard, deciding if you’re gonna walk in or run. When you finally get physical, it’s that clumsy but hot progress: “accidental” groping at the pool, fingers sliding over a big ass while she pretends not to notice, her hand brushing your crotch a little too long in the elevator, then later she’s on her knees, giving slow wet oral that turns into messy, animated thrusting. Vaginal, oral, handjobs, all that, nothing shy, bodies moving, everything animated enough to feel alive but not super polished Marvel CGI. People talk while you’re fucking too, which I like. Dirty little lines, shy protests that melt into moans, that kind of thing. It’s horny, a bit toxic, kinda wrong, and yeah, that’s the point.