This one starts gentle and then goes straight into the gutter, like a priest on Pornhub. You’re this quiet guy who grew up in an orphanage, no sex, no drama, nothing spicy, then suddenly you find out your dead father was running a pharma company that basically sells liquid corruption. The drug turns normal people into horny messes, submissive, addicted, hungry for more. Your stepmother Lucy is sitting on top of this thing like some evil nun with big tits and zero shame. She used it on you, broke you, tortured you, then threw you away like trash. You spend years training, obsessing, and then sneak back into the house as a security guard, pretending to be some random dude while you’re planning revenge and trying not to get a hard-on every ten minutes because everyone in that house looks like they escaped from a hentai tag list.

The sex goes from “almost normal romance” to “ok, that’s fucked up but I’m into it” step by step. Bridgett, your stepsister, is the soft spot. She actually feels like a person and not just a walking pair of tits. She’s sweet, a bit naive, and trying so hard to be good in a house where everyone is cheating, touching, lying, and sneaking around. When you start protecting her, it feels kinda wholesome at first. Then the game starts corrupting her with you. Slow groping in the hallway when no one sees. Accidentally brushing against her ass in the kitchen, not so accidental. A “comfort” hug where your hand slides a little lower than it should. There is this one moment when she’s crying in her room, you sit next to her to calm her down, and her head ends up on your lap, right on your dick, and she pretends not to notice. That scene felt way more dirty than straight-up anal, just because of the build-up. Later you get the more hardcore stuff, the oral, the creampie, the ahegao face when she finally snaps and begs for more. It actually feels like a corruption, not just a switch turning on.

Lucy is on the opposite side, full-on cruel milf energy. She uses the drug like a sex toy, like it’s just another thing in her drawer next to the vibrator. She talks down to you, calls you pathetic, then grabs your cock with this “I own you” attitude, and somehow you’re angry and horny at the same time. There is one scene where she forces you on your knees to “apologize properly,” and it’s basically a humiliation blowjob, with her hand choking the back of your head while she smiles like a saint in a stained glass window, except she’s got your cum on her tongue instead of a halo. The religion angle is very twisted here: there are crosses on the walls, family prayers, fake moral talk, and then five minutes later someone is getting fingered against the same wall. It hits that specific fetish where purity is just cosplay and everybody is rotten underneath.

The family itself is a walking harem waiting to happen. Cousins, step-something, everyone with big asses, big tits, too much makeup, and dangerous secrets. One cousin in particular clearly knows more about you than she admits. She flirts with you in this lazy “I know your real face” way, touching your thigh under the table during some polite family dinner. No big sex scene yet, just slow build, and honestly that teasing is hotter than half the actual anal scenes. Then later, under the excuse of “checking your uniform,” she corners you, runs her hand over your crotch, laughs when you get hard, and says something that sounds like blackmail and foreplay at the same time. The game loves this kind of domination where the woman is in control, but it still feels like you’re the one spreading the corruption, so the power keeps flipping and it’s messy in a good way. There is BDSM flavor too: cuffs, orders, forced positions, but it’s not super polished dungeon stuff, more like a very perverted rich family using whatever they want because nobody tells them no. You get masturbation scenes where the girls touch themselves thinking about you, handjobs where they test how far they can push you, anal in moments you don’t totally expect, and a lot of cheating that just happens in side rooms and corridors like it’s the most normal thing. It all fits the revenge story in a nasty way: the same drug they used to control and humiliate you, you start to turn against them, taking their fake holiness and grinding it into raw, dirty, shameless sex.

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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.

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Ariana feels like that girl you see on the bus with headphones in, pretending the whole world is background noise, except in this game the background noise wants to fuck her. She’s quiet, awkward, the type who clutches her phone like a shield, and somehow surrounded by women who look like they walked straight out of a very horny Instagram explore page. Her mom, her older sister, every older woman orbiting the house has that heavy, lazy sexual energy, like they could lean on a doorframe and instantly ruin your life in the best way. The tension hits early, when Ariana is just trying to masturbate in peace and you realize the game is not interested in peace at all. It wants leaked sounds through thin walls, accidental gropes that stop being accidental way too fast, and that slow corruption curve where “just curious” turns into “I’ll do anything if she keeps talking like that.”

The soundtrack caught me off guard. It’s not some epic orchestral thing, more like soft electronic loops with a bit of bass that hums under the skin. There’s this one track that plays when Ariana is alone in her room, just scrolling on her phone, and it feels like late night Tumblr porn browsing mixed with guilty church memories. Then the mood flips when the older women step in. The music shifts, gets more humid, heavier, like cheap red wine in a glass that someone keeps refilling. It’s horny elevator music if the elevator stopped halfway between floors and nobody pressed the alarm. I swear one of the loops sounds like it was made in GarageBand at three glasses of wine deep, and it works precisely because it’s slightly trashy. Erotic scenes lean into that rhythm: slow teasing, a hand on her big ass that stays there too long, fingernails grazing under her shirt, mom “helping” her with a toy that Ariana should definitely be using alone. The whole thing feels like a corrupted ASMR playlist where every “relaxing” sound ends with a moan.

When the game starts playing with power, that’s where it gets messy in a good, sticky way. Female domination here isn’t just leather and shouting; it’s mom using a soft voice while pushing Ariana’s head where she wants it, sister pretending it’s all just “practice,” older women treating her body like free use whenever she wanders into the wrong room at the wrong time. There’s a scene with a strap-on that goes from playful to “oh fuck she’s not stopping” really fast, and the camera just lingers on Ariana’s face, that mix of panic, pleasure, and “I shouldn’t like this” that hits harder than the actual penetration. Anal sneaks in that way too, like a dirty afterthought that becomes the main event. Beast stuff shows up more like a taboo wall you crash into, not subtle at all, and somehow the soundtrack just keeps doing that lazy, sexy loop like this is completely normal. Lesbian moments slide in between all the family tension, like Ariana using a “friend” to rehearse what she’ll never admit she wants from her own house. The game loves big tits, big asses, hands wandering, casual groping in hallways, and those long masturbation scenes where she starts off shy and ends up fucking herself with toys while thinking about exactly the wrong person. It’s clumsy, horny, kind of trashy, and every time the music hits that deep synth line, it feels like the walls of the house are breathing along with her.

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.

First time I opened it, I thought the colors looked a bit too clean, like candy wrappers in a porn set. But then she turned her head - Alya - and her eyes had this lazy way of tracking you, half bored, half aware you’re staring at her chest. It’s supposed to be parody, right? But it feels like the people who made it both love and mock what they’re copying. The male lead moves like he’s unsure if he deserves to be there, which somehow makes the whole thing dirtier. There’s something wildly unbalanced about how quick it switches from sweet talk to her mouth sliding down him. No fade-outs, no convenient camera cut. It just lingers. Too long maybe. Or not long enough.

The dating sim mechanics are barely pretending to matter. Tap, choose, get flustered text messages, and suddenly you’re deep in a warm rhythm that feels too personal for something you’re doing on your phone. I caught myself thinking about her hair texture mid-scene - like, how soft would it actually be after? That’s the kind of stupid detail that shouldn’t matter, but it’s there. She teases constantly, calling him “senpai” in a voice that sounds more drunk than shy. The transitions between affection and filth are messy, which I kind of adore. You can tell the animators didn’t care about polishing it smooth; they wanted it to *feel* like it could go wrong at any moment. When she presses against him, breasts heavy and animated with this exaggerated bounce, I almost laugh. Then I don’t.

There’s a scene (pretty sure it’s optional) where she insists on finishing him while keeping eye contact, and it’s uncomfortable and hot in a way only parody can be. The game pretends to be romantic, but the romance cracks open fast once things start moving under the sheets. Maybe that’s the point - pretend sweetness wrapped around shameless fucking. You could call it satire. But I’d rather call it honest.

KRUZ CITY feels like that dirty daydream you get on a long bus ride when your mind starts drifting and you suddenly remember how much you like soft skin and the sound of someone breathing right in your ear. It starts pretty tame: you come back to your hometown after being basically locked in this brutal sports camp, muscles sore, balls even more sore, pretending you care about training drills when actually you’re just thinking about thighs and lips and the smell of shampoo on a pillow. The moment you arrive, the place looks normal on the surface, but every corner feels loaded with some secret. A door half open, a shower running too long, a bedroom light still on at night where it really shouldn’t be. You walk around thinking you’re just exploring a city, and suddenly you’re peeking through a window and realizing this older woman you kinda remember from childhood is kneeling between some guy’s legs, tits pressed against his thighs, and you feel that hot stab of jealousy and arousal at the same time. It’s not subtle about it, which honestly I liked. The game doesn’t treat you like a kid.

What stuck to my brain is how physical everything feels. There’s this scene where you finally get a “private” moment with one of the milfs, and it starts with something simple, like her fingers brushing your hand while she hands you a drink. That tiny touch, just skin on skin, makes the whole screen feel heavier. Then it moves to her sitting too close, your leg pressed against her soft thigh, and when she shifts her weight you can almost feel that warm pressure slide across you. When she wraps her fingers around you for the first time, it’s slow, like she’s testing how far she can go, thumb rubbing the tip, palm squeezing just a bit too tight. You actually notice silly stuff, like the way her tits bounce a little when she changes grip, or how her ass digs into the couch when she leans forward to whisper something filthy, hot breath on your neck. And because the game likes to mess with your head, sometimes you’re watching this from a distance instead, hidden in the dark, seeing her do the exact same teasing moves on another guy. That part hits different. There’s this ugly, horny twist in your chest, like your stomach drops and your cock twitches at the same time, especially when she moans his name in a voice you thought was just for you. I wish I could say I hated it. I didn’t.

Kinda funny how often it plays with that “am I a good guy or just a horny bastard” feeling. One night you’re sneaking into a room, lights low, hearing soft breathing and wondering if you should really be here. The girl is half asleep, big ass barely covered by a thin sheet, one leg bent, panties riding up just enough to show the curve of her pussy. You slide your hand along her thigh, and the game lets you push it, fingertip by fingertip, until you’re rubbing her through the fabric, feeling that damp spot grow. She shifts, murmurs something, and you’re holding your breath, completely still, like if you don’t move she’ll keep pretending she’s asleep. That mixture of guilt and raw need is all over this thing. Same with the foot stuff: one of the women casually puts her bare foot in your lap while she talks about something boring, heel resting right on your crotch, and pretends not to notice as her toes start to curl and press. You try to focus on the dialogue, but all you can think about is how the ball of her foot grinds down just a bit harder every time you answer wrong. Sometimes you end up just jerking off alone after, pants around your ankles, staring at your phone, replaying a clip of her sucking someone else off, spit running down her chin. Honestly, I got stuck way too long in one early masturbation scene because the rhythm of her handjob was just that perfect, fingers twisting, wrist pumping faster while she stares you dead in the eyes like she owns you. And the worst part is you kind of want her to.