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.

Laura feels like that girl from those old Italian coming of age movies, except here the camera actually stays in the bedroom and doesn’t politely fade to black when the clothes start coming off. She’s 26, hot in that natural way, not some anime balloon with physics from another planet. Curvy but believable. The story starts pretty harmless: small southern town, bullshit economy, a plan for a little shop and a small house, her and Mario doing the “we’re gonna make it” couple fantasy. Then little by little, you watch that fantasy get traded for quick cash and dirty favors, and somehow it’s horny and depressing at the same time. In a good way. Or maybe I’m just broken from too many early 2000s browser porn games.

Playing on phone actually fits it. Feels like reading filth on WhatsApp when you should answer work emails. It’s a simple click, read, pick choice kind of thing, but those choices sting a bit because the game doesn’t treat Laura like a bimbo puppet. She knows what she’s doing most of the time. She argues with Mario, she calls bullshit when she sees it, she still ends up with her mouth around some guy’s dick anyway because money talks louder than pride. There’s one scene where she’s in a car with this sketchy “business partner” of Mario, and it starts as small talk, nothing special, just some cheap flirting. Then the camera angle drops and she’s bent over, trying not to smear lipstick all over his cock while he holds her head. The writing isn’t “poetic” or anything, it’s blunt. You get stuff like “she feels the tip against the back of her throat and tries not to gag” and that’s it. Honest, a bit rough. Exactly the vibe.

The criminal side creeps in slow. First it’s just extra cash in an envelope, then suddenly the guys she blows have bodyguards. The sex itself is pretty straightforward: oral, classic pussy pounding, some kissing that actually feels like romance and not just a loading screen between positions. There’s this one quiet moment after a cheap hotel fuck where she’s lying on the sheets still half naked, texting Mario, acting like she was out doing errands. The game lingers a bit too long on that, and it hits weirdly hard. Like those old Flash games where you suddenly felt guilty masturbating because the story got sad for two clicks and then went right back to cumshots. Sometimes the dialogue is clunky, sometimes a scene ends too fast, sometimes her reactions feel a bit too cool for what just happened, but I kind of like that rough edge. It reminds me of the first dirty visual novels I played on Newgrounds clone sites, where nobody knew how to write women but somehow you still got hooked on their shitty little lives. Same energy here, just more focused on one wife slowly letting the world fuck her while pretending it’s still her plan.

Game feels like someone spliced a trashy late night softcore channel with a horny podcast, then gave the mic to this smug narrator who just refuses to shut up while everyone’s life is melting into tits, ass and glitter brain. In a good way. Mostly. You bounce between different characters, some guys, some girls, and it’s always that same voice dropping in like “oh hey, your aunt is about to grow three cup sizes and forget what algebra is, let me explain that in way too much detail.” I’m usually here just for sound stuff, yeah, but this one made me read way more than I wanted because I kept waiting for the next “what the fuck” moment. And it comes. And then boobs come. And then someone’s IQ probably leaves through the window.

The sex itself is dirty, not “cute”. You’ll go from a slow, sticky blowjob scene where you actually hear that wet click when her lips pop off the tip, to her moaning like her brain’s rebooting while he pushes into her ass for the first time. Sucking and gasping and those little half-choked laughs, like she’s embarrassed how much she likes it. The sound layering around throat-fucking is surprisingly good: spit strings, a tiny gag, then that greedy slurp when she doesn’t want to stop. In one scene the “good girl” daughter is trying to keep her voice down while her “uncle” is burying his face between her legs and she keeps letting out this broken “uh-huh… uh-huh…” and you can almost hear the bed frame complain. At the same time the game’s trying to be funny, like the narrator dropping stupid jokes while someone’s mom is getting stuffed by two guys at once. Half the time I rolled my eyes, half the time I snorted and replayed the audio because her moans cut right through his dumb pun. There’s a voyeur bit where you’re peeking through a door crack while a thick milf rides a younger guy, and her ass just slaps down in this heavy rhythmic clap, mixed with her squeaky giggles and his low growl in her ear. That scene honestly sounds like someone recorded it in a cheap motel with paper walls. In a nice, rotten way.

What really works is how the transformation stuff is not just “oh boobs bigger now”, it’s like you can hear it corrupt them. One character starts talking normal, then slowly her voice gets lighter and almost sugary, and the more she gets fucked, the more she slips, repeating simple words, giggling at nothing, moaning louder for no reason. It’s hot and a bit sad and then hot again. In one story the serious office woman ends up on her knees in the bathroom, sucking her boss while her tits are swelling under her blouse and you literally hear buttons ping off somewhere. Her moans go from tight and annoyed to this breathy, openly slutty whine when he starts fucking her pussy from behind. The incest angle is not shy at all: there’s a “big sister helping her little brother relax” thing and she starts with awkward jokes, then you hear the moment she pushes his cock between her tits and just kind of gives up and starts moaning his name like a porn star. The interracial scenes hit harder in audio too, like when a pale bimbo housewife is taking a thick guy from the neighborhood and every time he bottoms out she gasps like he knocked a thought out of her head. Then the game throws a lesbian bit out of nowhere, two transformed girls giggling like high schoolers, licking each other and commenting on whose nipples got bigger, and I swear one of them forgets mid-lick what she wanted to say and just moans into the other girl’s clit. It’s messy, horny, weirdly funny, a little mean, and it absolutely doesn’t know when to stop. Which is kind of perfect for this type of filth.

Kid with fresh trauma, dead parents, and a brain full of horny daydreams gets invited to live with his own fantasy: the hot teacher with the perfect ass who always leans over the desk just a bit too far. On paper it sounds like a pity offer, right? “Stay with my family until things get better.” In reality it’s more like dropping him into a jungle of polite smiles, fake kindness and a milf who knows damn well every boy in class stares at her tits. He hesitates, because her son is that asshole from school who steals lunch money and calls everyone loser. But she looks at him with those soft eyes, that tight blouse, and suddenly sleeping under the same roof as the bully’s mom feels like a sin that’s worth burning for. Of course he says yes. Hormones are stronger than common sense.

The house is not normal. You notice it first in the little things. The way the “big brother” talks on the phone like he’s ordering a beating instead of pizza. The quiet guys in suits who show up, bow, and pretend they’re just business partners. The way the teacher, this kind of warm, patient woman at school, turns cold and sharp in the kitchen when she’s whispering about “problems that must vanish.” It’s a yakuza nest with homework on the table and a mom who cooks curry while wearing a skirt that barely hides her thick hips. While the son acts like he owns the world, the new boy starts sliding under his shadow, sneaking glances at his mom’s curves, her heavy breasts bouncing when she walks from the bathroom in a towel, the outline of her pussy barely covered, like she’s forgotten someone else lives there now. Or maybe she didn’t forget at all. Hard to say.

At school, the drama looks like a stupid romance anime at first. Teasing in the hallway, cheap jokes, girls whispering that the new boy is “so tragic, poor thing” while staring at his crotch when they think he doesn’t notice. There’s this weird humor in how people flirt with him. One classmate acts innocent, then asks very detailed questions about what he thinks of older women, then pretends it was a joke. Another girl “accidentally” falls on his lap in the library and he ends up with her ass pressed on his dick while she giggles, way too happy. But the real mindfuck happens back home, late, when the door is slightly open and the teacher is in her bedroom, touching herself while watching some shitty romance movie on her tablet, her moans soft at first, then deeper, and he just stands there, hard as rock, listening. Later she pretends nothing happened, serving breakfast like normal, but her hand lingers too long when she passes him the jam. One evening she helps him study and somehow her cleavage is almost in his face, her perfume sweet and thick in his lungs, and he finally snaps, kisses her, expecting a slap. Instead she kisses back, slow, hungry, like she’s been waiting, her tongue teasing, her lips wet. Clothes go missing. Her big tits are in his hands, heavy and warm, nipples hard, and he ends up buried inside her on the sofa, her moans low so the rest of the house doesn’t hear, her body pushing back into every deep thrust. She rides him later, straddling him in the dark, whispering “don’t cum yet” then pulling him in deeper until he fills her, creampie after creampie, while she clenches around him like she owns his soul. Around all that, the yakuza tension keeps rising, jealousy grows, and more women start circling him like he’s fresh meat in a bloody family war, but he still keeps sneaking into her room like an addict who only needs one drug: the bully’s mom, spread on her bed, legs open, ready for another round.

There is this cat girl in college who honestly feels like she’s born under some weird star. You start with her just trying to be normal student, go to lectures, maybe pass exams, but very fast it turns into “how horny can internet be today” situation. Instacat is everywhere here, it feels like that cursed app on your phone that you know is bad for mental health but still open every five minutes. Every choice you make for her, you feel this mix of “I want her to find true love” and “yeah ok post that thirsty selfie in the dorm bathroom with the towel almost falling off.” The game lets you lean into both. One moment she’s shy, ears low, tail nervous, trying to talk to that one cute classmate in the cafeteria. Next moment she’s grinding in some party, her crop top sliding up, nipples kinda poking through, everyone filming, and you are staring at the option like: do I lean into the scandal, or save her reputation a bit. I told myself I’d protect her. I did not protect her at all.

What I really liked is how small choices snowball into horny chaos. You say yes to a “study session” with this flirty cheerleader cat girl and then suddenly you have her on your lap, licking your neck, purring in your ear, hands creeping inside your shorts, while textbooks are just sitting there like decoration. Then you later see the Instacat story of that night and realize some other character saw it too, and future scenes change, more jealous text messages, more late night calls, more “come to my room, we need to talk” that never stays only talking. There are proper sweet moments hidden inside all the filth, like when you comfort another girl who crashed hard from a scandal, hugging in her dorm bed, tail wrapping your waist, kiss starting soft then turning into that slow, breathy grind under the sheets, underwear pushed aside, bodies very close and sticky, with this feeling like you are not just hooking up, you are choosing her. It feels fated sometimes, like “ok, this route is the one the universe wanted” even if you arrived there by being a total horny disaster. The game makes you laugh at stupid memes, then two clicks later you’re watching your cat girl ride someone on a desk in an empty classroom, skirt bunched at her hips, claws digging into shoulders, moaning loud enough that if destiny is real, it is definitely a pervert.

This thing feels like someone grabbed the filthiest route from a bigger game, ripped it out, and just said “ok, this is the whole story now.” You’re dropped into Alena’s school life where she’s basically the official toy for every horny girl on campus, and it never even pretends to be fair or nice to her. She’s the “good girl” type at the start, shy and sporty at the same time, then every click pushes her deeper into this mess of uniforms getting pulled aside, panties shoved down, and way too many curious hands. It’s not some slow, romantic corruption either; it’s that “you’re already fucked, you just haven’t realized how much” style. First five minutes I went from “oh, poor Alena” to “ok yeah, she kinda looks hot with that tear streak and drool on her chin” without even noticing when my brain flipped.

The school setting is used in that dirty-fantasy way: empty locker rooms that are never actually empty, back corners of the gym where everyone somehow hears everything, classrooms where the door is fake privacy and half the girls outside probably know exactly what’s going on inside. There’s one scene where they make her keep her sport uniform on, just push the shorts aside and pull the top up, and it hits way harder than full nudity. She’s being ordered to bend over the equipment like she’s still just doing training, except instead of a coach yelling about stretching it’s a smug classmate smacking her ass until it turns red and then stuffing something inside her because apparently fingers weren’t enough. I liked how the game pretends you have “management” over her schedule and choices, but in reality the options are mostly like: “do you get used in the locker room or do you get used in the hallway where someone might walk past and laugh.” The illusion of control fits the humiliation vibe too well, to the point it actually annoyed me, but in a way that kinda works for the kink.

The animated scenes are where it really lives. They’re not super fancy, but the movement is just enough that when she’s on her knees, mouth full and eyes rolled up, you can watch that little jerk of her head when the girl in front of her grabs her hair and just jams it deeper. One angle shows her face going from scared to that stupid ahegao look, tongue out and everything, while another angle focuses on how far the toy or dick or whatever is actually inside. Sometimes they make her use toys on herself in public spots, like sitting her on some vibrating thing in the gym while other girls pretend everything is normal, then someone quietly flips the intensity up while asking her questions so she has to answer while her body is freaking out. There’s also this brutal bit where she’s pinned between two girls, one using her mouth, one taking her from behind, and they play it like a “test” she has to pass, spanking her whenever she slows down. It pretends to have different endings and “paths” depending on what you click, but honestly the real difference is whether she ends up kind of owning her role as the school’s dirty mascot or just staying this broken little toy that everyone keeps for their own fun. Either way, it’s girl-on-girl bullying that turned into full-on public use circus, and if that’s the headspace you’re into, this thing doesn’t really give you a way out. In a good way. Or a terrible way. Hard to tell.

Couples: Lustbound drops you into Katy and John’s bedroom at that weird point where everything looks fine on Instagram, but in the dark they’re just kind of… touching each other out of habit. They’re young, married, they still care, but the kisses feel a bit too polite and John keeps grabbing his phone after sex. The game leans hard into that slow, itchy tension. Katy starts catching herself staring a bit too long at other guys, especially when one of John’s friends cracks a dirty joke and she laughs a little too hard. John notices. Or maybe he pretends not to, depending on what you make him do. It’s not about instant filth from the first click. It’s more like watching a flame catch on something that should not burn and thinking, “Eh, it’s fine” until the curtains are already smoking.

The visual novel structure gives you both sides of the mess. One moment you are John, pretending you’re totally cool with Katy going out in that tight dress that shows way too much thigh while you’re “busy with work.” Next moment you’re Katy, drunk on the attention when some guy’s hands stay on her waist a bit longer during a dance, feeling his fingers press her ass in the crowd where everyone can see and kind of hoping someone is actually watching. There are scenes where you’re basically voyeuring your own marriage. Like when John sits in the car, screen lit up with a text asking “You okay with this?” while he imagines what’s happening inside the bar: Katy laughing, a big dark hand on her knee, her lips brushing someone’s ear when she whispers. The game loves that sick mixing of jealousy, arousal, and guilt that sits in the belly. It lets you push them toward swinging nights, sneaky handjobs under tables, hotel room oral that starts as “just trying something new” and slides into “there is another guy finishing in your wife and you are not stopping it.” Or you pull them back, but not really. Even the “safer” choices still feel loaded. A simple shower together can be cruel when Katy teases, strokes John just enough to get him hard, then walks out, wrapped in a towel, annoyed but horny, checking her messages.

What I liked a lot is how the corruption doesn’t just turn Katy into some brainless sex doll. She remembers what she’s doing. When she spreads her legs for a guy who is not her husband and lets him slide inside bare, knowing creampie will leave a sticky reminder, she has that tiny moment of “I am a terrible person” right under the moan. John too is messed up in his own way. Sometimes he stares from the sidelines, watching a live porn show that involves the woman he promised to protect, and his dick is rock hard while his heart punches his ribs. It feels wrong and hot and pathetic at the same time. There are scenes where he joins in, hands roaming, groping her in front of another man like he is trying to mark territory, only to end up sharing her mouth, her pussy, everything. And then there are the quiet shots: Katy alone on the balcony in panties, knowing the neighbor across can see her, fingers inside herself while she replays what happened that night. Or John “accidentally” opening a video he shouldn’t have, seeing her knees on a hotel carpet, lips wrapped around someone else’s cock, and he just sits there, watching the whole thing in silence, breathing heavy. The game is at its dirtiest when it hugs that line between love and pure selfish lust, and doesn’t say which side is winning. It just lets you poke, twist, and watch them both fall apart in a way that feels way too real.

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.

This one feels like I walked into my own gallery at closing hour, lights half off, and there is just this one piece on the wall that will not let me go. A retired hunter, alone, pretending the world has moved on. And outside the door, a lovesick werewolf, so full of longing and hunger that it almost hurts to read. The game is short, yes, but it hits like a very focused exhibition: just you, the wolf boy who never really stopped chasing you, and a forest night that smells of wet fur, blood, and someone you used to fuck or maybe should have. You pick your pronouns, you name your hunter, but it still feels like the story already knows you. It treats you as if you have history with this creature. The first time he steps out of the dark, half monster, half man, teeth shining, eyes too soft for that body, it’s like some twisted fairytale where the woodcutter secretly wanted the wolf all along.

What I liked is how the erotic bits grow out of that mood instead of just dropping from the sky. The build up is slow and sticky: brushing against his fur, the way his tail twitches when you threaten him with your old hunter voice, the way he still calls you like you’re the only person in the world who ever mattered. And then it becomes very physical, very fast. There is dry humping that feels desperate, almost clumsy, like he has been replaying this moment in his head for years and actually touching you overloads him. The handjob scenes are messy, all panting and grinding, like he wants to climb into your skin. I liked the oral a lot because you feel it from the hunter’s point of view, the heat of his mouth, the wet noise, the way he struggles to keep his fangs away from your cock while still licking you stupid. There is cock warming too, with that strange mix of comfort and filth: him buried in you or wrapped around you, both of you not really moving, just breathing and trembling while his knot or his mouth keeps you trapped. It is strangely tender, even when there is biting and marking, your neck, your chest, his claws in your back, like he is carving his name into an old property. Sometimes it gets a little too wordy, like the writer is afraid to shut up and just let you sit in the silence between thrusts, but then you get one perfect line like “you taste like home” and my brain just stops.

CGs are few but they land nicely, like catching flashes of explicit sketches in some NSFW Twitter scroll that you shouldn’t open at work. Him on top of you, eyes glazed and needy, fur matted, your body pinned under claws that could rip you open while his cock presses hard against your stomach. Or that moment where he’s between your legs, ears back, cheeks flushed, mouth full of you, wolfish features twisted around devotion and greed. The multiple endings make the sex feel heavier, because you know you might break him for good. One wrong choice and that romantic, horny monster you just had rutting against your thigh with his tongue hanging out can end up bleeding in the dirt because of you. It’s a game about fucking, yes, but it is also about how much power you keep over someone who loves you enough to let you kill him. I played it on mobile in bed, screen too bright, one hand scrolling and the other wandering lower every time he whined your name. At some point I got annoyed that the text box covers just a bit too much of his body during one of the best scenes and I kept adjusting my phone like that would fix it, and now I can’t stop thinking about that tiny stupid issue instead of going back in for the last ending. Anyway. The sound of him begging, even just in text, sticks in your head like a good meme you don’t want to share with anyone. This is not a clean story, not emotionally and certainly not physically, and that is exactly why it works.