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.

Daily, newsfeeds overflow with constant election chatter, piling on data that numbs and bores. Imagine if politics didn’t have to be so dry and dull?

Envision candidates who don’t just talk, but stun with presence and brainpower, where faces aren’t blurred masses but bold personalities lighting up the stage.

Meet the striking brunettes and blondes whose bold plans promise change alongside their striking looks. More than just eye candy, these women challenge norms and offer clever answers.

Watch as powerful women in sleek business outfits turn an ordinary election into an erotic showcase. The campaign heats up as these ladies mix serious policy with playful, provocative moves.

Support candidates who know how to tempt your eyes and win your trust. Dive into elections where strategy meets sensuality, and your pick is as much about passion as it is about power.

The election turns into a tantalizing catcher’s game - snapping up your attention through every curve and clever line. Play along as the balance between office professionalism and erotic dance blurs, creating a wholly unique voting experience.

The race is on, and the prize is more than just votes - it’s the thrill of being seduced by sharp minds wrapped in tempting bodies. Let the alluring candidates catch your eye and your heart, proving that sometimes, elections are about more than just policy.

Your existence followed a simple path. Utterly dull. But everything flipped in a single night - the night you uncovered that the world of mythic beings is real and, shockingly, you belong to it! It all traces back to your father, and now a hidden secret pulses within your DNA. Now, powerful and seductive demonic entities and alluring succubi are desperate to claim that secret for themselves...

Never did you think that your mundane days would crash into a storm of lust and peril. Every shadow seems alive with lustful intent as demons and seductresses circle around you. You feel the heat of ancient magic coursing through your veins, while enemies lurk, hungry to steal your secret.

Step into a world where your every decision could lead to salvation or utter debauchery. Can you control the seductive forces clawing at your soul and turn them into allies?

Only those craving intense, raw encounters should dare enter this game, then dive into the abyss where passion and peril intertwine.

Your dark adventure awaits, pulsing with temptation and power. Start your descent into a carnal world where every secret costs a price.

Stepping into the shoes of a female protagonist in "Morning Coffee" means navigating the tangled world of office politics and desire. Your primary challenge revolves around more than just typing memos or answering calls - it's about juggling professional goals and carnal pleasures.

As a secretary, you're not just the backbone of the company, you're living a high-stakes life where your choices shape your destiny. Money flows if you know how to use your assets, but that's only the surface. Climbing the corporate ladder demands more than just efficiency – it requires blurring the lines between professional and personal to get ahead.

The office is a playground of secrets and power struggles, where your boss and coworkers are both allies and obstacles. Every interaction can be a chance to weave a web of influence or fall victim to office politics. The way you handle these encounters will determine if you ascend to management or become just another forgotten employee.

This text adventure puts you in control of every choice, letting you write your own story in a world dripping with tension and lust. Will you keep your integrity, or will you embrace the darker side of the office to get what you want? And when sex becomes a weapon, how far are you willing to go to secure your future?

"Morning Coffee" isn’t just about surviving the 9-to-5; it’s about thriving in a charged atmosphere where every glance, whisper, and secret deal could change your fate. The line between work and play blurs, and your actions ripple through the company like a scandal waiting to explode. It’s a game of power, pleasure, and manipulation that keeps you hooked from the first steamy encounter to the final boardroom showdown.

If you're ready to test your limits, seduce your boss, outwit coworkers, and make choices that lead to explosive outcomes, then this game is your next obsession. Don’t just answer phones - command the office with your presence, your mind, and yes, your desires. The question is, how far will you go to claim your spot at the top?

As the female protagonist in "Morning Coffee", you find yourself navigating a complex landscape of work and seduction. Financial rewards, promotions, and intimate liaisons are all on the table - if you know how to maneuver carefully.

You know that guy in the office who flirts too much, stares at tits a little too long, somehow still keeps his job because he knows where all the bodies are buried? In this game, that guy is you, and HR already gave up. You torched your old career by fucking around with the boss’s daughter and teasing half the female staff until the whole place looked like a hentai forum thread you shouldn’t scroll at work. The parent company can’t fire you without risking all their dirty secrets getting leaked, so they ship you off to a new branch and lock you into “100% remote work” like that’s going to stop your dick from ruining lives. It starts so harmless too: video calls with your new coworkers, polite emails, Slack messages that should be boring… but the corruption creeps in fast. A harmless compliment about a tight skirt. A “camera accidentally still on” moment after a shower. A late-night report where she’s wearing a blouse that really doesn’t want to stay buttoned. You’re supposed to behave. You absolutely don’t.

The fun part is how the game lets you poke at their limits. The girls all start out like normal coworkers, the kind you’d follow on Instagram and pretend you’re not zooming in on their pics. There’s the one who pretends to be a professional but is clearly thirsty for attention every time she leans too close to the webcam, boobs practically begging for an HR ticket. The boss’s daughter pops up again, and this time she’s pretending she’s “more mature now”, while stretching on camera so her big tits almost fall out of her top. Half the time you’re reading emails, the other half you’re choosing if you play it nice, act like a creep, or slowly corrupt them so they’re the ones asking you to stay in the call a little longer. There’s voyeur stuff too, but not in a subtle way. Sometimes the game throws you into these “remote access” scenes where suddenly you’re watching her in her bedroom, phone propped at a weird angle, ass filling half the screen while she thinks nobody is watching. You know that slightly messy AI generated look where the ass is too perfect and the boobs look like they cost half a salary? Yeah, that. It’s not “art”, but it hits that dirty brain spot.

What I liked is how your choices can fuck up everything without a big pop-up yelling at you. You go too hard too fast with one girl, she pulls away, suddenly your video meetings are all cold and formal, and the route quietly locks itself into the “you pushed it, now deal with it” ending. Another time, you play innocent for a while, pretending you care about her workload, and she starts teasing you herself, legs up on the desk during a call, panties clearly visible, pretending she doesn’t notice. Sometimes the endings are weirdly soft, sometimes they’re just “ok you fucked her, credits”, and sometimes the boss shows up and things get way more complicated and way more hot than they should be for an office game. Not everything looks perfect, some AI scenes have that slightly off vibe where a hand is like “what is that finger doing”, but honestly it kind of fits the dirty, not-quite-legal style of the whole story. You’re not here for gallery-level art, you’re here to be a corrupt bastard with a work laptop and too much access to horny coworkers, and the game really leans into that, then pretends it’s about “productivity”.

You play as this awkward dude, Sam, trying to look professional in an office where everyone pretends to be normal adults, while your new boss is basically the final boss of horny power games. Veronica Blackwell walks on screen in that tight office outfit and the whole vibe of the game changes. You can literally feel your mouse-hand getting more obedient every time she raises an eyebrow. It starts super tame: file this, fix that report, stay late for “just a bit more work”. Nothing wild. Then she starts getting handsy with your dignity instead of your body, which is way more fun. She locks you into this slow pacing, no skipping, no choices, just you watching Sam bend, inch by inch. And yeah, it is a kinetic novel, so forget about “I’ll just pick the dominant route”, there is none. You are the furniture. Accept it. At some point you catch yourself leaning closer to the screen when she mentions your “performance evaluation” and that says a lot about you and a bit about the writing.

What makes it hotter than it has any right to be is how casual she is about humiliating you. She talks about work metrics and career opportunities while making you kneel under her desk like it is the most reasonable thing in the world. There is a scene where she makes you clean her high heels with your tongue after a long day in the office and she does not even drop the corporate tone. She is checking emails on her phone while you are there on the carpet, licking the dirt off her soles, and she is commenting on your “attention to detail” like it is part of your internship report. The game really leans into feet and power stuff. Heels, stockings, her crossing her legs right in your face, you begging to touch or kiss her shoes and she just smirks and tosses you a command that feels more like a leash. And then, when you think it is “just” foot worship and soft humiliation, she pulls out that small metal cage for you. No warning, no drum roll, just a line like “I think you need help focusing at work” and next thing you know, Sam is locked up, hard but not allowed to be hard, if that makes sense. The writing milks that frustration on purpose. Every time she teases you after that, you can almost feel the cage squeezing. There is something messed up but very honest about that.

Art side is clean enough to do the job, nothing crazy, but the expressions matter a lot. Her smirk when you hesitate, the slight boredom when you try to resist, the way she looks down at you from the office chair like you are both a pet and a project. They reuse some backgrounds too much, but somehow that makes it feel more like an actual office grind. Same desk, same room, worse and worse situations. I was running this in Chrome with uBlock turned off for once, just sitting there on my second monitor like some degenerate pretending to answer Slack messages while Veronica is telling Sam he is not allowed to touch himself without written permission. The pacing is slow, yeah, sometimes painfully slow, but that actually fits the chastity angle too well. It is annoying and hot and annoying again. No big branching, no epic system, just a straight line falling deeper under this woman’s heel. And if that idea alone already gives you that weird tight feeling in your chest and lower, this thing is going to fry your brain in a pretty fun way.

You load it up in a bored mood, thinking it will be just another horny office thing, and then suddenly you are sitting in this glossy fashion magazine, surrounded by women who all look like they walked out from some Instagram explore tab that you pretend not to check. HauteBeat hums in the background, that soft loop of office AC, a distant printer, heels clicking across the tiles like a metronome for your dirty thoughts. The protagonist is this fresh graduate, all awkward, shy, still a virgin, and the game really leans into that. He stammers when the editor-in-chief leans over his shoulder, her blouse just a little too open, her perfume basically choking him. The scene where he is alone with the secretary in a tiny meeting room, with the glass walls and everyone outside pretending not to look, that one hit me. She lowers her voice, asks if he understands what “loyalty” means in this office, and every click through the dialogue feels like you’re holding your breath, waiting for the moment her hand actually lands on his thigh. There is no rush, but also no mercy. The pacing is like that slow elevator ride where you already know you’re going to do something filthy when the doors open.

First choice that really made me stop was when you decide if he keeps his “good boy” energy, or starts testing his new power over these women who pretend they’re in charge. One path he plays the sweet intern, trying not to stare at his boss’s big ass every time she bends over a layout. The other path, he starts using what he learns about them, their little secrets, and the mood shifts from nervous to predatory. There is this one route with the married coworker from accounting, the one who always has her phone face down on the desk. She invites him to “help” with some files after hours. Music drops out, it is just the wet sound of her lips when she finally slides under the desk and starts sucking his cock right there, while the screen shows the office lights reflecting on her lipstick-smeared mouth. Her wedding ring catching the glow every time her hand strokes him is such a petty detail, but it sticks. And yes, later, if you push it, you can corrupt her properly, going from quick blowjob breaks to bending her over the office copier for anal, watching that big ass shake while the machine spits out useless sheets.

Not every scene is perfect. One of the titfuck moments feels a bit rushed, like they knew she has massive tits so they just went “ok, put dick between them” and moved on. But then another girl, the one styled like a cold, distant creative director, drags him into the wardrobe room full of clothes for the next shoot. She sits him down on a low bench, climbs on his lap like it is a throne, and the sound design quietly peaks. You hear fabric sliding, hangers tapping, her little moans that she tries to swallow because there are still people a few meters away. When she finally sinks down on his cock, the angle almost makes you feel that stretch yourself, slow vaginal grind that turns into rough fucking and then spanking her ass so hard the clothes around them rustle. The corruption is not just “she is horny now”, you feel how some of them start asking for it. The secretary who once flirted safely is later begging to be used under the desk while the boss is in a video call. The boss who once scolded him starts testing how far she can go before completely giving in. It is all choices and branches, but it never feels like a math problem. More like you are texting three people on WhatsApp at the same time, promising each of them something different, knowing at least one is going to get hurt and you kind of want that. And yes, the protagonist is inexperienced, but by the time he has a little harem of coworkers sucking, riding, getting spanked in the break room, he is not pretending to be a nice guy anymore. Or maybe he still is. Depends what you click.

Leo starts as that guy in the office you barely notice, half-wrinkled shirt, cheap tie, fake confidence copy-pasted from a TikTok hustle guru. Then he opens his mouth and suddenly you’re in this sleazy mix of finance porn and actual porn where everybody lies, everybody wants more zeroes on the screen, and also everybody has a ridiculous chest. His world is penny stocks, dirty “business meetings”, and those glossy office corridors that look like they were built just so someone can press a MILF up against the glass. You’re not just clicking through a story, you’re basically trying to see how far you can push this dude before he becomes a full-on monster or just a horny clown with a brokerage account.

The hook is simple: power, money, and asses so big they have their own gravity. Instead of some fantasy kingdom, it’s that fake Wall Street vibe, more like Wolf of Wall Street if it had less coke jokes and more “hey, maybe I should not fuck my boss’s wife over a Bloomberg terminal”. Every “deal” feels like a setup for either a win on the market or a win in bed, and sometimes both at once. One moment you’re talking pink sheets and pump-and-dump, next moment a real-model secretary with a push-up bra that should honestly be illegal is asking if you “understand how leverage works” while bending over your desk. I laughed out loud twice, then clicked “continue” like a degenerate. The humor hits that trashy sweet spot: not smart, not subtle, just enough to make you feel slightly ashamed you’re enjoying it. But also some jokes fall totally flat and you kinda just stare at the screen like… ok, who wrote that line, a drunk accountant?

The office MILFs are basically the main event. They’re dressed like LinkedIn profiles from hell: tight skirts, blouses that pretend to be professional but the buttons are losing that battle. Big tits, big asses, big attitude. One of them does this thing where she sits on the edge of the table during a “performance review”, and the camera just… stays there, locked on the curve of her ass so long it becomes funny. I had like three unread emails open in another window and still didn’t alt-tab away. Choices actually matter more than it first looks. You say yes to one risky trade and suddenly you’re in a private “celebration” in a dark office with a married client who clearly hates her husband but loves your tongue. You say no, try to be moral, and she just gives you that look like you’re poor and boring, then walks away slowly so you can watch her hips and regret your life. The multiple endings vibe is real, you can feel routes branching, even when you’re only clicking to see more sideboob. Funny thing, sometimes the erotic scenes drag a bit too long, like the writer was scared to cut anything. And then a really hot moment is over in two clicks and you’re thrown back into charts and numbers, which is kinda rude to my dick, not gonna lie. Still, the way money, ego and sex wrap around each other here feels filthy in the right way, like opening the Robinhood app right after nutting and thinking “yeah, I could ruin my life for this”.

You spawn in this fancy New York law firm that looks like LinkedIn and Pornhub had a weird baby, and somehow you bullshitted your way into a lawyer job even though you’re basically just a smooth-talking criminal with a good memory. Office is full of people who look like they charge 900 dollars per hour just to breathe near a printer. Everyone is faking something. Degrees, morals, loyalty, orgasms, all of it. Your boss is this shark attorney who feels like he sniffs bullshit for breakfast, and he knows you’re not legit, which is kinda hot and terrifying at same time. That tension rides over every scene. One second you’re talking about contracts and hostile takeovers, next second you’re pinning a coworker with a ridiculous ass against the glass wall of a conference room while half the city skyline reflects in it like some HBO show went off the rails. The game loves that vibe where you’re half one wrong move from prison, half one wrong word from getting her panties on your office floor.

The lewd stuff hits strongest when it leans into that power play thing. Like, there’s this early moment where a big-titted coworker starts quizzing you about a case, not because she cares about justice or whatever, but because she suspects you’re a fraud and wants to see you squirm. Dialogue gets tight, she pushes, you bluff, she leans over the desk so her blouse struggles for its life, and you can practically feel your character thinking with his dick and not his brain. If you play it right, it flips from interrogation to flirting to straight-up “close the door, take off your tie, I’m bored of billing hours” energy. The sex scenes go hard on body language: her ass popping out of that pencil skirt, lipstick smeared on your collar, your hand on her hips like you’re negotiating a contract with her curves instead of her client. At some point I forgot half the legal terms and just clicked whatever kept her moaning. Funny thing, though, while the erotic vibe is top tier, pacing sometimes feels like ordering from Uber Eats and getting your dessert first, then the napkin, then the actual food. One scene takes forever teasing with office banter and lingering camera angles, then suddenly plot twist, criminal past pops back in like “hey bro, remember the drug deal?” and everything gets tense again while you still got metaphorical cum brain. The mix of secret identity, high-end law office bullshit, and all these gorgeous coworkers with big asses squeezed into business attire is lowkey cracked though. You jump from serious courtroom strategy to “how hard can I fuck her on this desk without anyone hearing through the walls” in two clicks. I kept alt-tabbing between this and Discord, trying to explain why I was sweating over a fake merger agreement. Honestly, the story around lying your way up the firm ladder while trying not to get caught is almost too good for a porn game, which is funny, because sometimes the sex scenes come in so fast they chop the tension you were enjoying. But then an angle hits where her tits bounce just right in that bra that clearly violates HR policy, and suddenly yeah, whatever, bring on the next deposition with benefits.

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

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

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