I opened Trapfield Hotel expecting cheap jokes, like the kind plastered over the usual porn-jam games that think one good tit jiggle equals writing. But this thing, weirdly, has personality - it doesn’t *care* if you laugh, moan, cringe, or all three. The first scene drops you right into the lobby, naked ego and literal everything else hanging out, and a boss who’s so tall and cocky she might as well have wings. She flirts in that half-mocking way that makes you forget it’s just text on a screen. It’s hot, but not sterile-hot. Like it’s someone smirking behind the monitor, teasing you, waiting for you to mess up your dialogue choice so she can make you regret it with a slap or a forced smile or - well, you can imagine.

Half the time I was laughing though. There’s this bit where you’re delivering towels, and the towel cart bumps into a femboy maid whose breasts bounce like they’re trying to escape gravity. He apologizes three times, blushes, and still finds a way to drag you into the staff room for “training.” The game just *leans* into that ridiculous energy, and somehow it works. It’s obscene and dumb and kind of brilliant. It’s like the dev watched a hundred hentai parodies and then decided to make one that actually feels alive, with just enough self-awareness that it never becomes boring.

Not everything hits - sometimes the dialogue repeats itself, and one room scene had lighting that looked like a fever dream, but maybe that’s on purpose; it kinda fits the corruption tone, like the hotel itself is drunk. The whole thing swings between dominance and submission faster than I can decide who’s winning. I caught myself rooting for the protagonist, then laughing when the milf receptionist literally turned him into her pet for forgetting to clock in. It’s chaotic, wet, over-the-top, and somehow honest, like it knows exactly what kind of filth it’s serving and invites you to enjoy how messy that is. Nothing polished, nothing polite, just raw kink with a wink.

Bolsdip sounds like the kind of town where nothing happens, but then you walk around for five minutes and suddenly you are watching your hot neighbor masturbate through a half open curtain and pretending this is “part of the investigation”. You play this young detective who comes back home carrying big city attitude, small town trauma, and a dick that keeps voting against professional ethics. On the surface it is this classic mystery thing: weird disappearances, rumors about supernatural shit, people keeping secrets. But the game quietly keeps shifting everything into sex. Every clue, every locked door, every awkward chat in the college hallway somehow slides toward blackmail, seduction, or some fucked up mix of both where you are not sure if you are saving them or corrupting them further. It feels less like solving cases and more like peeling clothes off reality, one layer at a time.

The way it plays is relaxed and a bit messy in a good way. You click around town, poke at objects, wait for certain times of day, and different scenes unlock depending on what you already screwed up or screwed. One run I spent ages orbiting the local professor, this classy-looking woman who talks like she teaches ethics but dresses like she cosplays her own students’ fantasies. Conversation with her starts academic, about motives and perception and all that, then suddenly she is pressing you against her office desk, whispering about “research” while her hand slides down your pants. It’s not just “sex scene, reward, next”. She keeps referencing previous choices, teasing you for hesitating when she first offered to “help you relax”, and if you push back she flips into this cool femdom mode, sitting on her chair and making you kneel between her legs while she explains moral philosophy like it’s foreplay. I wish the transitions between normal talk and horny talk were less abrupt sometimes, but at the same time that abruptness kind of feels right, like how real desire cuts into small talk without asking.

Next door is the milf who looks way too perfect for this shitty little town. She bakes, she smiles, she leans over in yoga pants in a way that absolutely counts as exhibitionism. She acts all caring, nostalgic about when you were younger, but the camera angle really cares only about her tits and her ass. You end up in these situations where you “help” her carry boxes, fix some minor thing in her house, and the reward rapidly goes from a hug to her guiding your head between her legs on the living room couch while some boring TV show is on in the background. There is this one scene where she pretends to be half asleep on the sofa and you are standing there, watching her nipples harden under the shirt, and the game lets you choose whether to be a good guy or quietly slide your hand under the fabric. It feels dirty in a very aware way, like the game is staring right into that part of your brain that always wonders what you would really do if nobody judged you. And then, when you think you have the pattern, the game throws that hidden baocat thing at you, so suddenly you are clicking around locations looking for a ridiculous little mascot that unlocks some extra lewd toy or secret animation. It is silly, breaks the mood, makes you grin, and somehow also makes the next blowjob scene feel more earned, because you hunted a stupid cat for it. The whole thing ends up like a horny detective diary: a slow burn of mysteries, voyeur moments, guilt-flavored orgasms, and the constant sense that Bolsdip itself is getting wetter and weirder the deeper you push.

You play a guy who has everything on paper and absolutely no control over his dick. Money, status, fancy place, whatever… but your cock only cares about four women who treat you like a chew toy. And not even a respected chew toy. The game really leans into that “you are property” vibe. Not in a fake way, in a “yeah, you’re going to say thank you for getting kicked in the balls” way. It’s built like a straightforward visual novel, but it feels more like a long research project into how far one brain can go with chastity, denial and humiliation before something important snaps. I tried to track all the paths in a Google Sheet, with flags for “got pegged,” “got locked,” “got called a good girl,” etc., and the sheet looks like a crime scene now. Which is good. Or terrible. I’m still deciding.

Each mistress hits a different corner of the masochist brain. One of them handles you like a bored accountant ticking tasks off a punishment list. Another one plays the sweet sadist, kisses your forehead, then sits on your face and uses you as breathing furniture while teasing that you’ll never cum again. There is a strict one that goes hard on chastity and denial, every line from her feels like you’re being downsized from man to toy, and the feminization route where she slowly swaps your clothes, then your pronouns, then your dignity. It’s not just “you wear panties now, lol.” There are full sequences of dressing you, posing you, forcing you to call yourself a sissy while she checks if you leak from the cage when she presses a plug inside you. The writing sometimes reads a bit clunky, but the tone is sharp enough that it doesn’t matter. Actually, the slightly broken English in some lines kind of fits, like your brain is glitching from too much edging.

The structure is simple at first, then turns into this maze of bad decisions. There are training sessions where you pick how obedient you act, and the game remembers. Choose to resist a bit, she might step harder on your chest and lock you longer. Choose full submission, you get called a good girl and humiliated in public. There are denial branches where you think “this has to be the time she lets me cum” and instead she wipes your pre off her boot on your lips and laughs. I had a spreadsheet formula trying to predict which choices open the harshest femdom scenes, and it still missed a couple of secret humiliation CGs because I was too obedient in the early scenes. That pissed me off more than anything. Also, the skip function sometimes jumps over a line I actually wanted to read, and now I will die angry about that. The game loves anal and feet and uses both as tools of control: you get pegged while locked, you lick sweat off heels after being forced to parade in a dress, you get told your dick is useless and your ass is what matters now. If you are into being reduced, feminized, used and laughed at by a small personal harem of cruel mistresses, this feels less like a “sexy story” and more like slow, statistical character assassination. In a good way. I think.

Degenerate University feels like someone took every horny Discord server joke about college and just said “ok, but what if that was literally the plot.” You’re dropped into this campus where everyone is way too hot and way too willing, and the whole thing kind of runs on this quiet rule that every problem can be solved if somebody gets bent over something. It’s a Ren’Py visual novel, so you’re reading a lot, clicking through dialogue, picking choices, but the real hook is how fast it goes from “hey, we’re classmates” to “ok, whose throat is getting used first.” One minute you’re trying to remember people’s names, next minute you’re staring at a futa RA pressing some shy dude into the bed and telling him he’ll only pass if he keeps his ass relaxed. It never really pretends to be classy. This game loves traps and futas like it’s their final semester before the world ends. Everywhere you go, there’s some smug girl with a cock, or a “boy” who definitely has something extra hidden under that skirt, and the script just leans into it, no slow burn, no fade to black, just “oh, you’re curious? good, open wide.”

The nice thing is that it doesn’t treat futa or traps like a side joke, they’re basically the main social class of the campus, and you’re kind of just tossed in the middle as everyone decides where to put you. There are scenes where you’re the one doing the fucking, really going in, feeling like this big top energy, pinning a futa down and pounding her pussy while she grips the sheets and groans that she’s supposed to be in charge. Then the game turns around in the next route and makes you kneel while the same girl laughs and slides her cock into your mouth, nice and slow, tells you to look up at her while you try not to choke. The switches between futa on male, male on futa, futa on female, futa on futa, it doesn’t try to be “fair,” it just chases whatever pervy setup fits the character. Some of the best scenes are actually pretty small, like getting dragged to a study group and realizing “study group” means getting your ass shared between two traps who bet on how many times they can make you cum before you pass out. Or that one anal scene in the locker room where you think you’re hooking up with a normal girl, and then you feel something hard pressing at your back door and the dialogue just casually drops that she’s been hiding a cock the whole semester. I liked that the game doesn’t always ask for permission in a traditional way, it’s more like “you’re already here, you already said yes by walking through the door,” which is hot and also kind of terrible in the best hentai logic way.

There’s this weird thing where some routes pretend you have any power at all, like you’re flirting, getting them on their knees, fucking their mouth, slapping their face a little, making them beg for your cum, and you think “ok, I’m built different, I’m the predator here.” Then two scenes later a completely different futa just grabs you by the collar, pushes you against a vending machine, and stuffs your ass full while you claw at the metal and try not to scream loud enough for the whole dorm to hear. I swear I spent half the game thinking “yeah, I’m in control, I choose the path,” and the other half getting bullied by girls with cocks who treat me like campus property. The oral scenes stand out too, especially when they do that thing where the character talks while they’re buried in your throat, like mocking you for gagging, telling you to breathe through your nose or they’ll keep your head down longer. If you’re into femdom, the professors are the real monsters here, they don’t even pretend you’re equal. There’s a futa teacher who tells you flat out that passing the course means taking her cock in both holes in the same night, and if you mess up she’ll invite a friend. And I’m still mildly annoyed at how tiny the text font got in one of the longer sex scenes, I had to lean in way too close to my monitor and it made the whole thing oddly intimate in a stupid way, like I was spying. Anyway, the game moves between vaginal, anal, and oral like it’s changing tracks on Spotify, barely slowing down, and half the fun is that you never know if the next “innocent” character is going to end up under you or balls-deep inside you. It’s messy, horny, sometimes really dumb, and the campus rules might as well just be written in cum stains on the dorm walls.

Ian wakes up in that cramped room again, phone in hand, bored out of his skull, lockdown bullshit outside, and the house full of women who act like they own his balls. Mom glides around like a queen in yoga pants that should honestly be illegal, pretending everything is “normal”, while the sisters treat him like a chew toy: mocking his morning wood, “accidentally” walking in on him, throwing his dirty boxers at his face, laughing when he blushes. At first it’s the usual routine, him jerking off quietly with one earbud in, Pornhub on low brightness, trying not to make the bed squeak while the whole place is just heavy with frustration he can’t do anything about. Then that stupid news report flashes on the TV, the one that changes the mood of the house from “haha, you loser” to “oh, we can really do this now” in about two seconds. You can almost feel the air getting sticky after that, like the walls are listening.

The fun part is how fast everyone drops the fake innocence. Mom starts leaning over the table more, her tits basically falling out while she “asks” him to help around the house. She knows he is staring at her ass when she bends, you can see that tiny smirk on her lips when she pretends not to. One sister starts using his room as her private dressing cabin, standing there in panties that barely count as clothing, talking to him about useless TikTok drama while she’s pulling on tight jeans that can barely contain her ass, and sometimes she “forgets” to close the zipper. Another one just goes straight for his ego, calling him her “little pet,” sitting on his lap, grinding casually like it’s nothing, then shoving him away and laughing when he’s hard and desperate. The game lets you decide if Ian finally bites back or just sinks deeper. You can make him talk back, pin them down, grab their throats lightly while they roll their eyes and moan anyway, or you keep him as the humiliated toy that wipes their cum off the floor and thanks them for letting him taste it. It’s not soft at all when they decide to break him either, they bully him about his size, make him cum in his own underwear, force him to stay like that while they keep teasing. Sometimes the “jokes” go too far and the game just shrugs and keeps going, which honestly fits.

What really got me was how the house turns into this messy sandbox of power games. One evening you have Mom on the couch, drunk on wine, kind of needy, pulling his hand under her shirt and telling him he’s “such a good boy,” and you can go from that gentle milf worship to making her kneel on the floor and open her mouth because you’re tired of her acting like she’s in charge. The next day his sister corners him in the bathroom, locks the door, sits on the sink with her legs open and says “lick or I scream,” and if you play it submissive she’ll ride his face until he can’t breathe and snap a selfie with mascara running, using him like a sex toy. Or you flip it and make him grab her hips, eat her out just enough and then refuse to let her cum, walking away while she’s shaking and pissed. There’s a nasty humor running through the whole thing, little lines where they mock each other, highlight how fucked up the situation is, then just double down on it. One moment you’re laughing at a stupid meme reference during a blowjob, next moment you’re making the whole family kneel in front of the TV like some twisted worship scene, or you’re the one on your knees, jerking off while they compare his dick to guys on OnlyFans and rate him like a product. It’s all cramped rooms, soft couches, phone screens lighting up sweaty skin, masturbation in the shower while someone knocks on the door asking what’s taking so long. It feels like being locked in a porn fantasy that forgot where the line was supposed to be, and no one in that house is actually looking for it anyway.

Dream Corruption throws you into this weird fever dream where anime girls from different shows are all stuck together in some twisted psychological maze. You're playing as this "anomaly" - basically the game's way of saying you don't belong there but somehow have the power to mess with everyone's heads. The whole setup feels like someone took a bunch of popular waifus, tossed them in a blender with some Freudian nightmare fuel, and called it a day.

What's actually interesting is how the corruption mechanic works - it's not just "click button, see boobs." Each character has their own psychological profile that shifts based on your choices. Tatsumaki starts off as her usual bratty self, but depending on how you approach her dream sequences, she might become more submissive or double down on the domme energy. Same goes for characters like Yoruichi and the RWBY girls - their personalities actually morph in ways that feel somewhat organic rather than just flipping a switch from "pure" to "slut." Though honestly, the Starfire content feels rushed compared to the others. The femdom routes hit different when you're dealing with characters who already have strong personalities in their source material. There's something weirdly compelling about seeing Weiss Schnee's ice queen facade crack under the right psychological pressure, or watching Ruby Rose's innocent enthusiasm get redirected toward... less innocent activities. The visual novel format lets you really dig into the mental manipulation aspect, which is where this game actually shines compared to other hentai parodies that just slap familiar faces on generic sex scenes.

The monetization isn't terrible - no energy systems or pay-to-fap nonsense that plagues mobile adult games. You buy it once and get the full experience, though some of the later character routes feel like they were added as DLC bait. Still, for what it is, Dream Corruption delivers on its promise of psychological corruption with recognizable characters, even if the writing gets a bit too philosophical about dream logic sometimes.

This thing absolutely feels like the result of someone horny, bored and a bit too obsessed with Harry Potter porn on Xvideos, in the best and worst way. You play a male wizard tossed back to some weird 70s version of magic school, and everything has that “almost familiar but off” vibe. It’s clearly Hogwarts but also legally not Hogwarts and that actually makes it hotter somehow. The school corridors are all quiet and soft lit, plenty of little corners where you can just stop and peek at stuff you’re not supposed to see. The first time I followed one witch after curfew, I was just clicking around for a random event and suddenly I’m spying through a keyhole while she’s practicing “magic focus” with a dildo the size of a wand, panting into a pillow. That voyeur moment hit harder than half the porn I have saved on my phone. And then the game acts like it’s your fault for watching too long. Which is accurate, honestly.

The teasing is where it really got me. It doesn’t rush right into sex unless you deliberately brute-force it. Witches will lean just a bit too close during classes, robes slip open a few pixels too far, they bend down to pick up books and the camera angle is just perfectly trashy. I liked how one girl pretends to be all strict and dominant, scolding you for not paying attention, then “punishes” you in a private tutoring session by making you kneel and focus while she slowly wraps her tits around your cock. No background music, just her breathing and a couple of quiet voice lines, and you can choose to either obey or grab her waist and break the mood. I picked obey, obviously. Or maybe not, now that I think back. Anyway the titfuck scene is surprisingly emotional for something that also made me pause my Spotify because it was getting distracting. The writing swings from horny jokes to soft romance to lowkey bullying in a way that feels like scrolling through Reddit gone wrong. One moment you’re testing some charm, next moment she’s using that spell to tie your hands magically while she rides you, talking trash in your ear, completely in charge. People looking for pure vanilla might complain, but honestly the femdom flavor fits the whole witch fantasy. The only thing that annoyed me is how sometimes you spend way too long clicking every shiny thing in a classroom just to trigger a single groping animation, and then it’s over in ten seconds. I still kept doing it. I hate myself a little for that.

The “sandbox” part is strange but kind of addictive. You wander around the school, poke at random magical crap, and every now and then you unlock a new scene or a tiny quest. There was this moment where I found a cursed mirror hidden behind some dusty curtains and instead of a jumpscare or something, it showed a witch undressing in another room in real time, touching herself with a wand between her legs while you choose to watch longer or back off. Of course I watched longer. It felt like one of those shitty porn pop-up ads made into an actual game mechanic. The parody humor hits and misses: some spell names are intentionally stupid, like a charm that “helps circulation” and is just an excuse for a handjob in the infirmary, with the nurse slowly stroking you while complaining about school regulations. The tone jumps around a lot. One witch is written like a proper romance route, with soft moments in the library, holding hands, kissing in the courtyard after class, then she surprises you with a blowjob under the table while a teacher is talking, trying not to laugh as you struggle to keep eye contact. Another witch is basically chaos with a wand, turning your clothes invisible in public, using toys on herself in the dorm while she forces you to stay on lookout at the door. I kept thinking I would get tired of the point and click parts, but then some little animated gesture or facial reaction would drag me right back in. It’s messy, horny, a bit broken in pacing, and the romance is twisted in that way where you end up wanting these girls to obsess over you forever. Which is probably not healthy, but alright.

The moment you step up to this colossal billiard table, you realize it's unlike any game you've tackled - its enormity rewrites the rules of play. Instead of neat pockets at the edges, this giant table hides them inside, forcing you to twist and turn your strategy with every move.

Every ball that drops makes the game pulse with electric anticipation, a countdown to something far more tantalizing. Presiding over the game, an alluring redheaded mistress dressed in slick latex eyes your progress, stripping away her glimmering costume little by little as you claim each win.

Her sultry looks and commanding aura twist the game into an erotic contest where your skill unlocks her enticing unveiling.

Winning isn’t just about clearing balls; it’s a tease, a climb toward surrender disguised in shadows and latex.

If you’ve got the nerve, the oversized pockets and seductive mistress make every shot a charged blend of skill and lust.

Pick up the cue, aim sharp, and start playing - because each strike inches you closer to a private performance where the latex comes off and the heat turns raw.

You arrive in this shiny new country thinking you’re some big brain office guy, right? Good job, clean contract, boring little grey cubicle, “fresh start” bullshit. Then the game pretty much slaps you in the face and reminds you you’re just another idiot who got a little too confident with the company money. One wrong spreadsheet, one little “adjustment,” and suddenly your whole life hangs on a few screenshots in someone else’s hands. It’s not “oh no, moral drama, what shall I do” either. It’s more like: here’s the trap, here’s your throat, and here’s the boot that’s going to rest on it while you jerk off and hate yourself. And the boot has painted toenails.

Home life is worse. Or better. Depends how broken you are. Your roommates are all too pretty and too relaxed about personal space. You think it’s a harem, but it’s actually a fucking HR complaint waiting to happen if anyone cared. They catch you staring. They don’t get shy. They get ideas. The game likes to take simple domestic stuff and twist it. You come home from the office, brain fried from trying not to get caught, and a girl is lying on the couch in tight gym shorts, one leg over the backrest, looking at you like she already read your browser history. She’s “innocently” asking how your day at work was, then suddenly she knows way too much about an “accounting error” and has a folder on her phone that sure as hell doesn’t look like memes. It’s not instant sex. It’s worse. It’s that slow “sit down, shut up, and listen to my conditions” smile. She’ll make you kneel in your own living room and call it a “test,” while the TV quietly plays some random show and you’re there, half hard, half terrified. There’s this one moment where she drags you to the gym under the excuse of “you’re getting soft,” and you think you’re just doing some squats. Next thing, you’re doing push-ups while she sits on your back, shorts riding up, whispering in your ear what will happen to those little files if your arms stop moving. People walk by. They see a trainer pushing a client hard. They don’t hear her telling you exactly how you’ll lick sweat from her toes later if you want your job.

The corruption stuff is where the game really doesn’t pretend to be nice. You start off trying to fight it, making these little choices like “I’ll resist, I’ll say no, I’ll be a man of principle,” and the narrative just smiles and shows you how cheap your principles are when your boss might see photos of you on your knees in the women’s locker room, holding a bra in your mouth because some smug girl told you that’s how dogs should carry things. The blackmail angle isn’t some side tag; it’s the spine. Every request is layered: “Touch me here, say this, sign that document, send this email.” Sexual humiliation gets tangled with office politics in this nasty way. You might be jerking off in a bathroom stall, watching a short clip of your roommate’s foot grinding into your face while she calls you her “little embezzling toy,” and at the same time you’re waiting on a message that decides if your career lives or dies. And yeah, the scenes get hardcore. There are CGs where your whole body language screams “I want to disappear” while your cock is straining against your pants, getting slapped, stepped on, used like a prop in their little power games. The girls don’t just dominate you physically; they dig into your shame, into that sick part of you that loves being treated like you’re lower than dirt. One of them makes you strip in the office after hours, under harsh neon lights, and she takes pictures with your own phone, giggling, then casually sets your wallpaper to your naked, collared self. Later, during a real meeting, you unlock the phone out of habit and almost drop it when the screen lights up. That’s the vibe: horny, uncomfortable, mean, and somehow you keep clicking “next” anyway.