HornyCraft is one of those games that looks like a stupid dick joke at first glance and then suddenly you’ve spent half the evening making a milky sex farm in a world made of blocks. You play as this guy, Steve, classic cubic idiot with a pickaxe, stuck in a place where every cave and house and forest has something horny lurking in it. It keeps the basic survival and crafting backbone, but everything is twisted toward porn logic. You chop wood, smash some stone, craft a bed, then realize you’re not really building a base, you’re building a fuck hub where monster girls just wander in and turn your “storage room” into a breeding corner. I liked how the first time you meet a busty creeper girl it feels like a horror game for one second, she’s coming at you with those weird sounds, and then the animation kicks in and suddenly you’re watching this shaky blowjob scene with green slime dripping off her tits while you’re still trying to remember which hotkey opens inventory.

What sticks out for me, as someone who actually cares how BDSM and power stuff is shown, is that it’s messy but not totally brain dead. You get this mix of goofy parody and real kink. Like, you’re tying up a monster milf in a stone cellar you crafted yourself, torchlight flickering, and the scene plays with her trying to bargain, teasing you, and you choosing whether you fuck her mouth or make her drink her own milk from those massive tits. The game likes lactation a lot, sometimes too much, it will throw milk on screen like a busted faucet, and then just move on like nothing happened. One second you’re milking a futa spider girl you lured in with crafted web traps, handjob plus oral at the same time, very animated, all that twitchy leg motion, and right after that Steve is cutting trees again like some boring worker in a mobile idle game. It breaks the mood, but in a weird way it also works, because it feels like porn slapped on top of a grindy sandbox instead of pretending to be some deep story. Lesbian scenes pop up here and there too, like when two monster girls start going at each other in a small wooden shack you built for storage, and the game just lets you stand in the doorway and watch, or jump in, or shove one of them on her knees. Some of the horror bits try to be serious, dark caves, creepy moans, that kind of stuff, but you know it is all just foreplay to another blowjob animation or a stacked milf villager riding Steve on a crafting table like it is nothing special. I do wish the UI didn’t feel like a half-finished mobile port and that the text didn’t look like someone typed it in a hurry on WhatsApp, but whatever, the important part is that when a huge-titted zombie girl crawls out of a hole you accidentally mined into and pins Steve to a wall, the game actually lets the scene breathe, gives you a bit of control, a bit of roughness, and does not pretend it is vanilla. It is stupid, horny, and clumsy, but I kept remembering small things like the sound of milk dripping on wooden planks or the way a shy slime girl slowly wraps around Steve’s cock after you “help” her with a crafting ingredient, which tells me the dev understands at least one thing very well: people are here to get off, not to be impressed.

Hero story on the surface, total filth underneath. That’s the whole vibe here. You’re not the shining savior, you’re the snake in the sleeping bag. The world is doing that classic “demon horde rising again” thing, the Hero’s party is all proud and hopeful, and you’re there smiling like a good little ally while secretly sent by the Demon King to fuck everything up from inside. And “fuck” is not just metaphor here. You’re working your way through trust, lust and corruption at the same time, pushing everyone in the party over the edge in different ways. One girl starts all pure and doe-eyed, blushing when you brush her hand, then five scenes later she’s moaning with tongue out and eyes rolled back while you rail her from behind, fat creampie dripping while she’s supposed to be “on watch” for monsters. Another guy in the group is a cocky swordsman, all talk about honor, and you slowly grind him down with teasing, humiliation and those “friendly” training sessions that turn into blowjob practice, then sissification, then him begging to wear panties under his armor. The game really loves that slow slide from normal to “how the hell did we get here” and it doesn’t apologize at all.

What sells it is how it mixes the fantasy quest with filthy little betrayals. You’re doing typical RPG stuff, traveling, camp scenes, tavern stays, but every stop is a new chance to twist someone a bit more. Helping the healer “meditate”? Actually guiding her through “special breathing” while your hand is between her legs and she’s leaking on your fingers. Sparring with the Hero? You tire him out on purpose, then leave him to sleep while you sneak off and fuck his crush hard enough she starts lactating in a later scene, and you make sure he walks in just in time to see the internal view shot of your cum overflowing from her stretched pussy. There is a lot of voyeur stuff like that, you arranging things so people catch each other in the worst possible moment, then using the shame to push them even deeper: blackmailing the proud mage with that time she let you titfuck her in the bath, turning it into regular “magic lessons” with her on her knees, or forcing the tanky milf knight to let you spank and grope her under her armor right in the town square because she “owes” you for saving her from a monster girl that you actually lured her into. And yeah, the monster girls get in on it too, sometimes joining the group sex, sometimes being your tools, sometimes corrupting you right back with a surprise anal scene where you pretend you’re in control but she clearly isn’t fooled.

The sex is all over the place in a good way and a messy way. You get sweet romance moments where you almost feel bad, like when the Hero’s childhood friend whispers she wants to carry your baby because she thinks it’ll make you closer to the Hero, and then the game just slams into hardcore group scene with her pinned, double stuffed, drooling ahegao face while you use her like a toy. One evening you’re giving “foot massage” to the party’s stern elf archer that ends with her sliding her toes around your shaft, totally red but still trying to act calm, and the next morning she’s the one offering to help you “relax” with a handjob behind some ruins, pretending it’s just physical relief so she doesn’t have to admit she’s addicted. There is lesbian stuff between party members you twisted emotionally, traps that start as jokes from the Demon King side and turn into full on submissive little pets in your harem, interracial scenes with captured enemies you flip over to your side using nothing but your cock and a bit of humiliation. You get classic blowjob, anal, multiple penetration, toys jammed in during battle prep, the Hero getting cucked in ten different ways without even realizing half of it, and a lot of those evil little moments where you watch from the shadows while they masturbate thinking about you, then you step out and ruin them more. It’s not soft, it’s not “healthy”, it’s dirty spying, gaslighting, teasing and training wrapped around an adventure that pretends to be heroic while you quietly turn the whole party into your personal, leaking, obedient mess.

Starship discipline is completely fucked here, in the funniest, dirtiest way possible. You get handed the captain’s chair on the Cerritos, but it feels more like they dumped you in a floating frat house filled with horny degenerates in Starfleet colors. Everyone is used to Admiral Freeman looking the other way, so when you start trying to clean things up, the crew basically tells you to suck it. Half the time you’re walking down a corridor and some ensign has their uniform half open, covered in cum, trying to hide a hard-on or wiping drool off their lips after “checking the sonic shower.” The ship looks like Star Trek, but the mood is more like a super trashy porn parody where nobody remembered the part about “professional behavior.” And you are absolutely encouraged to abuse that.

The center of the chaos is Beckett Mariner, of course. She knows you can’t just throw the admiral’s daughter out an airlock, so she tests every limit she can. One moment she’s lounging in your chair with her boots on the console, tits almost spilling out of her uniform jacket, fake-innocent face and those stupid ahegao eyes when you finally snap and drag her into the ready room. The game really likes that shift from “smartass brat” to “corrupted little cumtoy,” especially when you start using blackmail. You catch her in compromising spots, collect dirty data, and then slowly push things from “get on your knees and swallow” to “bend over the tactical console, I want to see just how tight that ass is.” She resists in that playful way at first, talks back, but the art leans heavy into humiliation: tears in the corners of her eyes, tongue out, mascara a mess, expression halfway between hating you and begging you to creampie her again. The AI-style CG is weirdly perfect for this kind of parody, everything slightly exaggerated, breasts too big for regulation uniforms, cumshots overdramatic, but it fits the whole “cheap bootleg holodeck program” vibe. And it is animated, so you really sit there watching her get filled, milk leaking, mouth drooling, your choices affecting if she ends up more broken-in, covered in bukkake like a used toy, or still pretending she’s in control while she rides you and moans your rank.

What caught me off guard is how the game doesn’t just stop at “straight captain dominates bratty officer.” Lower deck kids and random crew open up way dirtier routes. You walk into the cargo bay and spot two male ensigns “wrestling,” cocks out, one already dripping. That can spiral into you forcing them to service you as punishment, lining them up and choosing who takes you in the ass, who licks your balls clean, who drinks the load. There is gay stuff that doesn’t feel like an afterthought, more like the ship is just completely horny and nobody cares about orientation anymore. Then there is the whole trap and futa angle, uniforms hiding surprise dicks, big tits paired with a throbbing cock that strains the Starfleet fabric. One minute you think you’re punishing a cute, shy communications officer, next moment she drops her pants and you’re staring at a hard shaft and a wet slit both, and the game just goes “yeah, use all of it.” You can force them to suck you, fuck them until their own cum sprays on the control panel, or take it yourself if you lean into being a greedy captain who wants every hole filled. There are scenes where you make an officer pump milk out of her huge tits right onto the floor while everyone watches, or you order a line of crew to kneel and finish them off one by one, covering faces and mouths until they look like someone set a bukkake filter over a still from Lower Decks. Then there are cheating bits, too: married officers getting reamed in your quarters, whispering that their partner doesn’t touch them like this, while you record everything for later blackmail. It’s unapologetically trashy, sometimes mean, and occasionally so over the top you just start laughing, but it keeps that Star Trek parody flavor through all the corruption, like a filthy holodeck program somebody forgot to lock with a command code.

Epifania looks like some luxury fashion week gone rotten in the sexiest way. Neon on wet concrete, everyone pretending to be high class while they’re literally lining up for a hole in the wall. You arrive as this nobody with big hunger and zero connections, just you and this building that looks like an abandoned outlet store someone forgot to bulldoze. Then that Devil Investor shows up, all smug and perfectly dressed, like the kind of client who sits front row at a fetish runway show and buys the entire collection with one bored click. She doesn’t ask if you want in. She just throws you the mission: turn this wreck into the most profitable and depraved brothel in the city. And suddenly you’re balancing spreadsheets and cumshots in the same breath, which, honestly, feels familiar to anyone who tried to run an Etsy store while doomscrolling Pornhub.

First thing that caught my designer brain: the girls are not copy-paste dolls. You start “training” them and it feels weirdly like fitting models for a very, very illegal lingerie line. You watch them change from shy little things clinging to basic underwear into total predators who know exactly how to use lace, heels, and a dripping mouth. Some are sweet mom-types with soft tummies and milk-heavy breasts, the kind you’d shoot for an expensive maternity fetish catalog. You push them into public booths where strangers use them like shared accessories. That whole gloryhole section? It’s like designing a collection where the face is irrelevant, only the silhouette of thighs and tits matters. I hated how it turned me on. I loved how it turned me on. It’s messy like that. One night I focused on a single “pure” girl, double-checking her stats on my phone between Instagram stories, trying to keep her first time special then casually booking her into a gangbang room right after because the numbers looked good. The game doesn’t guilt-trip you. It just quietly asks: more clients or more conscience? And you already know the answer, you capitalist slut.

The management part is sneaky. You think it’s just clicking upgrades, then you realize you’re planning who gets which kink like you’re coordinating outfits for a runway lineup: anal queen here, bondage star there, the tall milf with heavy lactation in the VIP lounge that smells like perfume and sweat. There’s this weird thrill watching your building go from dusty warehouse to multi-floor pleasure machine, with private rooms, voyeur windows, and that one office where you handle “contracts” with potential corporate partners who want their own harem branch. I kept pausing, thinking how I’d design actual lingerie sets for them: soft leather harnesses for the submissive accountant type, transparent body stocking for the market manipulator who ruins competitors while taking a footjob on her desk. At one point I was negotiating prices for public use sessions on one screen and sketching a crotchless bodysuit in Procreate on the other, and it all just blended. The game lets you push the girls into pregnancy deals like they’re limited edition drops, fill them up, send them back out, watch clients line up for that. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. I still wish the interface didn’t hide some details in tiny menus like some cheap fast-fashion site, but then I catch myself zooming in on a courtesan getting her ass filled and I forget what I was annoyed about. Anyway, the city doesn’t care. You start with nothing, you end with a building full of moaning, swollen, used bodies and a bank account that keeps climbing every time someone walks through your doors. It feels like running a fashion brand where the models never leave the show, they just keep getting fucked harder behind the curtain.

This one feels like someone grabbed a bunch of messed up fairy tales from an old Tumblr archive, poured too much horny into them, then stitched them together with tape and spite. You jump from one little “chapter” to another, each about a different princess or monster girl, and it never quite behaves the same way twice. Sometimes you’re clicking through choices like a horny gremlin, sometimes you’re stuck on one screen just staring at a princess in chains while deciding if you go full bastard or pretend to be a gentleman for three lines before ruining everything again. It has that cheap 2D CG look that somehow fits perfectly, like fanart that escaped from DeviantArt and learned how to talk dirty.

The Disney parody angle is not subtle at all. One moment you’re in a desert palace with a very not-licensed princess in transparent harem pants, the next you’re watching her milk drip through the fabric because some “blessing” of a magic artifact turned her into a walking cow fantasy. There’s actual choices around that too: keep her as a humiliated slave, drag her to the shop to buy toys and chains, or pretend to “free” her and then chain her to the bed anyway when she tries to run. When the genie shows up, he’s not doing three wishes, he’s doing “how much anal, how much oral, and which hole gets the creampie first.” It sounds crude but the writing has this weird emotional whiplash. You get moments where she spits insults, calls you a monster, you spank her until she does that stupid ahegao face, tongue out, drool, and then three clicks later she’s asking why you didn’t kiss her after you fucked her. Absolutely romantic. Totally normal.

Then there’s the monster girls and the more… questionable stuff. The game does not care about comfort zones. There is ***, humiliation, bestial stuff, that feeling of “oh shit, I should not be aroused by this, and yet here we are.” A lamia coils around your guy, squeezes until he can’t breathe, then uses him like a living dildo. A corrupted princess rides a centaur while you watch and jerk off like some pathetic court wizard who lost control of his own spell. At some point I spent like five minutes just trying to click the right option so I could see the lactation scene loop again, because the way her breasts bounce when the magic spell forces her to squirt on command is genuinely hot in this stupid, low-budget way. And then, in another branch, that same girl is surrounded by a group of guards, getting used one after another, cum dripping out of every hole, and she still has that princess pride in her face like she’s trying not to break while you decide if you go for a handjob ending or shove toys into her until she cracks.

What I like is how inconsistent it all feels, in a good way and also in a “who wrote this at 4 in the morning on Red Bull” way. Some scenes are pure male domination power trip, where you drag a chained girl by the collar, make her lick your boots, force oral until her eyes roll up. Then suddenly you hit a route where a demoness sits on your chest, slaps your face, makes you cum with just her feet and your own hand, and laughs at you for being her little toy. There is one bit I keep thinking about: that stupid little shop screen where you buy a cheap-looking vibrator, take it back to the dungeon, and the scene changes only by this tiny drawn toy in her hand, but the dialogue completely flips her personality. She goes from sobbing *** victim to desperate, horny mess begging you to push it deeper while your character mocks her for loving it. The game pretends to be a light parody, but some of these stories end like a punch in the gut, with the girl broken, collared, used by monsters and men, covered in cum, and you get this short line of text hinting that, in another path, she could have escaped with a girlfriend instead, living a quiet lesbian fantasy far from the palace. You will probably ignore that and reload for the anal gangbang anyway.

FSS Lamashtu feels like somebody mashed up a cold war naval thriller with a filthy space brothel and then forgot which part was supposed to be serious. You’re the freshly minted captain of this “experimental cruiser” that is absolutely not built for exploration, unless you count exploring how many holes your crew can take in a single patrol. Officially it’s the proud weapon of the Alliance, last hope in a long-ass war. Unofficially it’s your floating fuck-lab, staffed with officers who look like they came out of a horny AI art generator after you typed “war crime but sexy” too many times. The ship layout screen is almost a character by itself: bridge, medbay, cargo, those little tucked-away compartments you quickly learn are perfect for “private disciplinary sessions.” You jump between menus pretending to care about fleet orders, but the only thing you actually remember is which corridor you cornered that technician in when she kept “accidentally” brushing her giant tits against you.

The story likes to pretend it’s about geopolitics and rebellion, and sometimes it even tricks you. You’ll get this long briefing about the Neo-Terran strategic line, convoy raids, morale of the Alliance, all that stuff. Then two clicks later, you’re watching a proud enemy pilot on her knees, mascara running, mouth full of cum while she tries to spit out her rank and serial number. The tone whiplash is almost funny. There’s a certain charm in how the game refuses to pick a lane: you capture prisoners, you break them in slowly or just slam straight into collar-and-chain slavery, you’re supposed to feel the “moral weight” of it, but the next scene has them begging for anal like they read the script ahead of time. The AI CG does that exaggerated wetness thing, where every hole looks like you dumped a bucket of lube on it, and every creampie is this ridiculous white flood that should qualify as a bio-weapon. Sometimes the faces twist into that extreme, over-the-top ahegao that doesn’t even look human anymore, more like a melted idol poster, and it somehow fits this world where war propaganda and porn have fused into one genre.

What sticks in my mind most is how physical the ship starts to feel. You’re not just choosing sex options, you’re shaping routines. That science officer who starts with stiff posture and carefully zipped uniform? A few “private evaluations” in your quarters, and suddenly she’s walking around with visible bite marks on her neck, trying not to react when you casually grope her in front of others. There’s a scene in the hangar where two captured enemy girls are supposed to be processed for interrogation, and you can decide if that means basic questions or “group demonstration of Alliance hospitality.” The way their bodies are posed, covered in semen from multiple angles, has that bukkake ritual vibe, everyone participating because the war needs “unity.” You get toy usage too, not just as accessories but as tools of control: a vibrator left inside during a formal strategy meeting, the slow dawning horror on your new slave’s face when she realizes the remote is in your pocket while admirals talk about casualties. The game never really resolves whether you’re a genius commander or just a sex-obsessed tyrant who got lucky with experimental hardware. At some point there’s a tender-ish lesbian moment tucked awkwardly between brutal scenes, two crew girls comforting each other after a mission, fingers exploring, tongues slow and hesitant, and for once you’re not in the frame at all. It feels almost like the game forgot its own premise for a second, then remembers, throws you back into forced deepthroat in a dark interrogation room, and moves on like nothing happened.

You wake up on this cold metal bed in a ship that hums like an old fridge and the first thing you notice is not the headache, not the missing memories, but that you are naked as fuck and someone hooked your body up like a toy. The game lets you decide pretty fast what that body even is, and it is not shy with options. You want a lean guy who gets pushed around and ends up on his knees? Go. You want a stacked futa with thick cock and tits that drip later when the drugs hit right? Also there. Female body with a dick, male body with a pussy, non-binary setup, whatever weird combo your furry brain cooked at 3 different tabs open on xVideos, it kind of lets you live that. Then the ship starts talking, crew starts showing up, and that whole “who am I” plot runs right next to “who the hell can I get to pin me to a console and breed me”. The crew is mostly guys, different vibes, some softer, some with that DILF energy where you just know they’ll pull your hair while telling you they’re doing this for your own good. It has that slow burn of corruption too, where early scenes are just teasing and “accidental” touching, then the choices pile up and suddenly you’re kneeling between two men, one in your mouth and one pressing at your ass, and you kind of know you walked yourself there step by step.

What I like is how it flips from talking about conspiracies and shady experiments into real filthy stuff without pausing to ask permission every time. One minute you are in some dark corridor snooping logs, next minute you got a hand around your throat, someone grinding your face against a bulge, and the text just spells it out. If you turn on the nastier kinks in the menu, the scenes get meaner, which I actually didn’t expect. I thought “oh nice, just more porn”, but then I hit a route where my character basically becomes a half willing slave for this calm older guy who keeps dosing you with some drug that makes you leak milk whenever he squeezes your tits. At first I was like, that’s too much, I’m just here for soft gay space romance, then there I am reading a scene where he fucks your ass on the captain chair, fingers your pussy or dick at the same time, orders you to keep eye contact while you cum and milk runs down your chest. It’s shameless. There’s humiliation edges too, like being made to clean up your own creampie with your tongue, or being passed around a small group while they comment on how tight you still are for “a well used toy”. It still tries to be funny sometimes, throws jokes in the middle of a blowjob, which kinda works and kinda ruins the mood, depends. One scene in the medbay has you strapped up for “exams” and the doctor uses toys first, slowly stretching you, talking about “data” like that explains why he has a vibrating plug with a remote, then he just goes in raw after your walls are gaping and you are begging half from embarrassment, half from need. There is also some interracial stuff later where they play with how “alien” bodies might feel, though right now most of them still look pretty human and I keep angrily waiting for real anthro options that will probably never come. Text based format actually helps here, your brain fills the gaps, so when they stack you for group sex, one cock in your mouth, one pounding your ass, one sliding into your pussy or between your thighs if you picked only one hole, it feels way more intense than some lazy clicker animation. You even get those small details, like fingers digging into your hips, someone groping your chest absentmindedly while talking business, a bored crewman getting a hand job in a storage room because he “caught” you snooping and decides you can pay with your hands instead of alarms. The game pretends it is all about choices and plot, and yes, there are combat bits and dialogs and moral stuff, but honestly the thing that sticks is that moment you realise you turned on almost every kink in the options and now your “lost in space” protagonist is on all fours in a locker room, ass dripping cum, balls or lips swollen, hearing boots stop behind them again and thinking “ok… maybe just one more”.

This thing is messy in a way I kinda respect. You get tossed into this warped fantasy world where reality has given up, and apparently the local wildlife has tits, claws, and a very specific interest in human cock. The story talks in first person, so it feels like your horny inner monologue got kicked out of Earth and landed in a fever dream. One minute you’re getting smacked around in some turn based fight, the next minute you’ve got a monster girl pressed against a tree while you’re deciding if you want her whining from teasing, moaning around your dick, or riding you until she leaks cum everywhere. It flips from “oh no, danger” to “oh yes, fuck me harder” faster than my mood when Grindr crashes.

The whole thing is like running a very perverted HR department in hell. You manage your little crew, you juggle resources, you worry about who’s loyal, who’s useful in combat, and who’s just there because they let you grope them whenever you’re stressed. There’s romance, but it’s that fucked up sort, with girls who will absolutely let you creampie them behind a ruined shrine, then ask if you still like them when they’re pregnant with your half-cursed brat. Some scenes are soft and sweet, like slow oral where she’s shy and drooling, or gentle handjobs while she confesses feelings. Then five minutes later you’re shoving her face against a table, spanking her ass red while she tries to keep quiet and completely fails. The writing tries to be poetic sometimes, like it wants to win a prize, and then it goes straight into “her asshole clenched around me” without any shame at all. Honestly I love it. And also I rolled my eyes. Both things true.

Combat is that chill turn based style where you’re half reading the skills, half daydreaming about the next time some exhibitionist demoness gets pinned against a wall. Some fights actually matter and you’ll be min-maxing like a weirdo, other times you just mash buttons because you only care about seeing how much milk that busty priestess can spray when you pull her top down mid-dialogue. The game keeps throwing choices at you too: do you comfort her, or do you grab her tits; do you swear devotion, or fuck her raw in public while the shadows watch. Management and romance and adventure all tangled up in this slightly unhinged, emotional dude-brain that gets way too attached to monster girls he just met. I was reading on my phone in the bathroom, lost in some deep talk about devotion and despair, and two clicks later I had her swallowing my load and begging to carry my child. It should not work. It really should not. But here I am, remembering which route gave me anal, lactation, spanking, and a love confession in the same arc like it’s important info for my taxes.

It begins like it wants to be about family, but then it just… doesn’t behave. That first evening, when David stares too long at his coworker’s neckline, the game pretends it’s about choice, though every click exposes a new shade of self-deception. There’s something oddly literary about watching these people unravel: both of them pretending they’re still in control while the text just keeps baiting you with small, filthy possibilities that feel too intimate to resist. I remember getting stuck on a scene where Anna walks past the neighbor’s window wearing basically nothing, because she’s bored, or angry, or maybe trying to remember she’s desired. You don’t know. The narration doesn’t tell you. And that’s the best part - it’s dirty, but also confusing, like real jealousy. You’ll think you hate everyone in it, then suddenly feel sorry when someone moans at the wrong moment.

Sometimes it feels like reading a private diary someone left open on Steam by mistake. There’s a quiet, slow burn at first - teasing, staring, little violations that shouldn’t matter - but the pacing keeps tripping over its own guilt. The erotic bits come fast, almost abrupt, and the author doesn’t even try to clean them up. It’s clumsy in spots: a sloppy handjob described with too much sincerity, an argument that ends with spanking and shame instead of resolution. The whole cheating thread gives that sickly pleasure where you’re complicit but can’t stop. When pregnancy slips into the plot, it doesn’t feel planned - like the story just lost its way in the middle of the night and forgot what moral it was chasing. Someone on the dev’s Discord said it’s “romance with rot,” and that weirdly fits. You can tell it was written by a person who doesn’t trust love but still wants to taste it through someone else’s mess.

I think what kept me playing wasn’t the sex at all (though there’s milking - take that however you like), but the voyeuristic awkwardness. You’re watching a marriage decompose in slow motion and occasionally pressing “Continue” just to see if they’ll humiliate themselves even deeper. It’s ugly, honest, sometimes hot, sometimes exhausting. I closed the window and still caught myself thinking about Anna’s face when she realizes someone’s watching.

You start with this half-dead hotel that looks like it smells of cheap cleaner and old sex, and somehow it becomes this weird little universe where every floor has a different flavor of horny drama. It looks like a normal dating sim at first, like “oh yeah, I’ll just talk to the girls, raise some stats, classic stuff”, and then three scenes later you’re holding a trembling elf maid by the hips while she tries to act all proper and obedient and ends up squirting all over the new bedsheets you saved up to buy. And you’re thinking: ok, I just wanted romance, why is there a menu option for nipple clothespins in the housekeeping budget. But you still click it.

The hotel thing works too well. Everyone is under your roof, so you bump into them doing absolutely everything. You go into a hallway thinking you’re just going to check repairs, and you catch one girl “cleaning” a window with her tits pressed against the glass, tongue out, full ahegao, while someone down in the street could totally see her. It counts as voyeur and exhib stuff at the same time and the game doesn’t even wink at you, it just lets it happen, like yeah, this is just Tuesday here. You can be the pure romance guy and still the world keeps trying to corrupt you. There’s a religious girl praying in one scene, acting shy like a virgin, and later you’re there timing her orgasm denial with your phone while she begs for just one more thrust and you’re like, ok, maybe I’m not “pure” anymore. I kept telling myself I’m avoiding the nastier paths, and two minutes later I’m watching a lactation event where I was only trying to give comfort and suddenly there’s warm milk and a helpless girl calling you “master” in this shaky voice. Total accident. Kind of.

What really got me is how your role shifts without a big “you are a trainer now” sign. One moment you’re like a soft-spoken manager who buys cute maid outfits and simple cosplay ears, the next you’re running what is basically a private bdsm spa on the top floor, where you decide who gets the collar and who just gets spanked until their ass is bright red and they can’t sit in the café. Some girls push you around too, it’s not just male dom. There’s a yandere type that goes from clingy to “if you fuck anyone else I’ll break their legs” energy, and she rides you so hard you legit feel like the slave instead of the trainer. Then later the same night another girl kneels down in the lobby and gives you a slow, careful blowjob like it’s a love letter, and you remember why you came here for romance at all. But then there’s some fucked up family route on the side, anal stuff mixed with “we shouldn’t do this” whispers, a footjob in the laundry room, a titfuck in the elevator when the doors keep almost opening, group sex in a suite where everyone’s moaning your name at once, and somewhere in the middle of that mess you’re still checking income stats on your phone and thinking about upgrade costs like an idiot. The hotel keeps growing, the harem keeps getting bigger, some girls get their breasts reduced while others suddenly swell up like a fantasy elf breeding project, and you’re walking around your own building knowing exactly which room has a girl quietly masturbating, which one hides a camera for your voyeur habit, and which bed has fresh cum drying in the sheets because you didn’t even bother with pulling out after that last creampie. It’s romantic in the trashiest way, and trashy in a way that somehow still feels kind of sweet.