Sex in space always sounds kind of goofy in my head, but this one actually leans into that mess instead of pretending to be “hard sci-fi”. You start as this assistant to a big-shot senator on Earth, while Mars is trying to become its own thing with its own rules, own calendar, own kinks. Your boss is all about shutting down polygamy and polyandry, making marriage “pure” again, and then your character is constantly surrounded by people who very clearly don’t give a shit about that. So half the time you’re writing dry political speeches and the other half you’re secretly watching someone get their ass smacked red in a private office on a station orbiting Venus. Kind of a mood shift, but it works better than it should.

The sex itself is not shy at all. Big tits, big asses, a lot of focus on slow touching, groping, hands sliding under clothes during “serious” meetings. There are animated scenes where a calm talk about Martian independence suddenly turns into the candidate bending forward over a desk, skirt pushed up, and the protagonist’s hand comes down on her ass again and again while she’s trying to keep her voice steady. The game loves mixing politics talk with dirty stuff like that. Some routes get really messy with cheating: you can be the side piece for a married Martian diplomat, watching from a hidden camera while her official husband is busy somewhere else. There are scenes where you sit alone in your cabin on a Mars shuttle, jerking off while scrolling through secret footage on your mobile, watching your lover ride someone else’s cock and pretending you are okay with it. That voyeurism and netorare angle hits harder than I expected, because the story actually spends time letting you like these people first. It stings when you realize she is moaning louder for the other guy than she ever did for you. There are oral scenes where you feel less like a hero and more like a consolation prize, sitting on the edge of a bed while she goes down on you right after coming back from “meeting her campaign donor”. And sometimes the interracial angle pops up in a way that is not very subtle: Earth-born, Mars-born, different skin tones, different bodies, your character stuck in the middle trying to pretend this is all just politics. The game jumps from romantic cuddling after sex, where she snuggles into your chest and actually looks soft and in love, to cold, distant masturbation scenes where you’re alone again, jerking off to something on your phone because she did not show up. The romance has sweet bits, but the cheating keeps cutting through it, and somehow that mix of warmth and betrayal feels very on-brand for a future where love and law are constantly pulling in different directions.

Quiet little towns in these games are never really quiet, but here it actually feels like it for a moment. Just a horny, slightly bored guy with a normal life, scrolling porn on his phone in bed, thinking about girls that are way out of his league. Then his blood wakes up and suddenly everyone wants to either fuck him, use him, or stab him in the heart. In that order. The whole vibe is this mix of fantasy and sci‑fi where the city looks almost normal on the surface, but behind it there’s this hidden vampire hierarchy that treats humans like resources and other vampires like walking status points. You’re the “dead” bloodline that isn’t supposed to exist anymore, so when you start throwing your weight around, some girls get wet, some get scared, some try to play you, and some just let you use them because they think you’re the next big monster on the food chain. The sex scenes lean hard into that power shift thing. You start out kinda unsure, then suddenly you’re fucking from your own POV, hand around a throat, pushing a girl down into the mattress while she pretends she doesn’t like it but keeps grinding back. Creampies are constant here, not just a one‑off fetish. You finish inside, she looks up at you like, “You’re not supposed to do that,” but her legs are still shaking and you know she’ll let you do it again. The animations are not Hollywood level, but weirdly that makes them feel more raw. There’s this one scene in a back alley, neon light from some shitty bar sign hitting her skin, you press her against the wall and just slam into her, her panties pushed to the side, and the way her hips twitch when you cum in her feels almost too intimate for a mobile game you’re playing on the toilet while pretending to scroll TikTok.

What I liked most is how the cheating stuff isn’t treated like some big moral lesson. It just happens. You’re fucking a girl who clearly has someone else, you see the hints, the messages popping up on her phone that she ignores while she’s riding you, and instead of some drama talk, the scene doubles down on how wrong and hot it is. One moment she’s whispering that she shouldn’t be doing this, the next she’s begging you not to pull out. It’s scummy as hell and the game doesn’t apologize for it, which I respect in a dirty way. Not everything is perfect. Sometimes the dialogue tries to be deep and lands a bit like fanfic written on a bus, and there are moments where the pacing is weird. You’ll have this intense political vampire meeting where everyone threatens each other, and right after you’re just casually raw‑dogging someone on a couch like you didn’t almost start a blood war twenty minutes ago. But then again, that mismatch kind of works? Feels like you’re juggling sex, power, and secrets, and always choosing the wrong priority on purpose. The male domination angle is strong but not in a cartoon way. You’re not a screaming edgelord, you’re more like this calm, dangerous guy who realizes people will bend if you push in the right places, emotionally and physically. One of my favorite bits was a scene where you use your status to steal a girl from another vampire at a party, polite smile on your face while she kneels between your legs later, licking you slow, knowing she’s basically your trophy now. And yeah, playing from POV the whole time makes it feel personal in a way that hits different. You’re not just “controlling a character,” you are the asshole who keeps filling girls up and walking away like it’s all part of some big plan for your legacy.

The hook here is simple and kinda dirty: your sister spoils you rotten for years, builds you up, then vanishes and throws you the keys to an apartment complex full of horny disasters who clearly never heard about boundaries. You pick if you play as a guy or a girl, but either way you’re the one everyone suddenly wants to impress, seduce, dominate, or milk like some perverted space-cow. It sounds like typical harem fantasy, and yeah, it is, but wrapped in this weird mix of romance and power play where one second you’re awkwardly trying to be a responsible landlord, and the next you’re elbow-deep in someone’s cleavage, trying not to think about how soft and warm and oh shit she’s pushing your head down further.

What I really liked is how the “pickup line” thing kind of sneaks up on you. The game doesn’t say “this is the flirting system” with big glowing text. You just start talking to tenants, and the dialogue branches suddenly care a lot about how bold or submissive you act. Pick a cheesy line with the shy lesbian tenant, and she blushes so hard you feel like a bully… then later she surprises you by pinning you to the wall and making you whimper. Try the same line on the confident femdom chick and she laughs like you’re a little toy and makes you prove you deserve to even look at her tits. I had one moment where I thought I was being smooth with a “romantic” reply, and the game answered with: “You say that while staring at her nipples.” That’s when I realized this thing is not interested in staying subtle.

The sex itself swings around a lot. You get soft, cuddly lesbian scenes where two girls just touch and kiss slowly, fingers exploring, hands on hips, careful teasing, and then out of nowhere someone pulls out toys that look like they belong in a sci-fi lab, presses them against swollen breasts and starts talking about how full she wants to feel. There’s a lot of focus on big tits, not just as decoration, but as actual gameplay focus: teasing, groping, titfucking, even milking. I spent way too long on one scene where I was just watching text describe how milk ran down her chest in thin lines and pooled around her nipples while you keep thrusting between them. It sounds stupid when I write it, but in the moment I was just scrolling like “yeah, go on, more detail, don’t stop here.” Then later in a different route the same body is treated totally different, more like a throne you kneel under while she uses your face or your cock without asking. Femdom fans will see the strings immediately. The domination swings between playful and actually kind of mean, especially if you lean into the “serve me” options. You get hand jobs that start as a reward and end as punishment, anal scenes that flip who’s in control mid-thrust, creampies that feel earned, not just “you came, congrats.” I wish the romance side was a bit stronger in some branches, but it also fits this messy tone where everyone is half in love, half horny, half lying to themselves. Yes, that’s three halves. Shut up.

The only thing that actually annoyed me is tiny: the way some lines repeat when you’re trying different approaches with the same girl, especially the landlord talk when all you want is to get back to the part where she threatens to sit on your face if you don’t answer correctly. It breaks the flow when you’ve already seen that text five times. But then suddenly you get a new variation of a scene where your character, male or female, gets dragged into a bed, toy pressed against them, and the tenant says something like “You’re in charge of this building, but I’m in charge of this body,” and my brain just forgets to be annoyed. There’s something funny about how often the game pretends to care about rent and cleaning schedules while the actual content is full-on groping in stairwells, panties pushed aside for quick vaginal fucks, tenants competing for your attention, and you trying to juggle being in control with being completely dominated. One route has you slowly building a kind of accidental harem, another route has you stuck under one woman’s heel, and in between you still toss out pickup lines like you’re on some cursed Tinder where everyone is horny and too honest. I kept thinking “this is too much” and then clicking the dirtiest option anyway.

Dare to play it alone, or invite company?

**Becoming a Femboy: When Parallel Universes Get Kinky**

So Austyn thinks hopping between dimensions sounds like a good Tuesday activity, right? Wrong. This little sci-fi adventure takes our boy to a reality where futanari and traps aren't just Pornhub categories - they're the fucking norm. And guess what? The universe decides you're a trap now. No take-backs, no refunds.

The game throws you into this weird sexual ecosystem where everything's backwards but also... not? You're dealing with characters sporting massive tits and even bigger dicks, which honestly creates some interesting dynamics. There's this whole teasing element that actually works better than expected - you know how most games just shove explicit content at you immediately? This one makes you work for it, building tension through handjobs and oral scenes before escalating to the real hardcore stuff. The masturbation sequences feel oddly personal too, like the dev actually understood that self-discovery angle instead of just making it another click-to-cum simulator.

But here's where things get messy (and I don't mean the good kind). The incest subplot feels thrown in there just because someone checked a fetish box on their development checklist. It doesn't flow naturally with the parallel universe premise at all. And don't get me started on how the titfuck mechanics work - they're simultaneously too complicated and not detailed enough? Like, pick a lane. The big ass appreciation scenes are solid though, probably the most polished part of the whole experience. Sometimes you'll find yourself getting genuinely invested in Austyn's adaptation process, then remember you're basically watching cartoon porn and question your life choices. The futa protagonist interactions create this power dynamic that's actually pretty hot when the writing doesn't get in its own way. Which happens more often than I'd like to admit.

The first time I logged into this thing, I didn’t even care about the classes or whatever plot it pretends to have - the way the avatars breathe, the tiny tremor in their lips before a kiss, that’s what got me. It’s like the devs poured all their soul into making skin look touchable. There’s this one girl in a half-armored cosplay outfit, silver hair glowing like some digital eclipse, and when she leans close, her breath fogs your screen. Maybe I imagined that, but hell, it felt real. The sci-fi cities behind her hum like they’re alive, something between a nightclub and a dream you shouldn’t be having. The game doesn’t shout about its mechanics, but when you figure out how to sync movement and body sensors, it’s almost too much - like your nerves are being rewritten to crave every vibration.

Sometimes the story pretends to be about mystery - a missing player, a corrupted zone - but nobody’s really fooling anyone. The real puzzle is how long you can last before giving in to pure heat. The VR immersion slips between sweet and filthy faster than your mind can keep up; one moment you’re chatting with a student NPC about history, next she’s on her knees, glasses sliding down, eyes wide like she’s learning anatomy for the first time. There’s group stuff too, awkward at first until it’s not. Someone mentioned modders replaced the background drones with moaning echoes; I laughed until it happened in my session and I swear it made everything feel more chaotic and alive. The music, though? Too clean. Needs something grittier, maybe a heartbeat instead of these sterile synths.

I still can’t get over the fact that clothing physics act like they’ve got personalities - skirts that refuse to stay where they should, latex that remembers your touch. You can taste the future here, but it’s messy and dripping and maybe a bit too honest. Every time I log out, reality feels thinner, like a veil that won’t settle right.

Clark’s life in this game is basically every lonely porn-addicted loser fantasy smashed into a superhero comic and then left out in the sun too long. You’re this awkward Kansas kid with the “oh wow I’m an alien” thing going on, except instead of just saving cats from trees you’re trying not to fuck your whole hometown, literally and morally. One minute you’re clicking through boring school halls, pretending to be normal, the next you’re peeling back the small-town vibe and finding meteor freaks, MILFs with secrets, and people who really should not be that horny during an alien crisis. The story does that thing where it pretends you have your life under control, then throws you into some pov scene where a woman twice your age is grinding on top of you and you’re thinking, “Yeah, the universe is doomed, but this is worth it.”

The visual style is AI generated but it kind of fits the whole off-brand superhero parody mood. Faces are a bit too perfect sometimes, like Instagram filters got horny and never stopped, but the bodies, man. Tight costumes that look like they’re about to rip, soft thighs pressed together on a teacher’s chair, that stretched look when you push in deep and the belly shows a little bulge. The creampie shots are surprisingly dirty in a good way: cloudy mess dripping down, panties pushed aside, that moment where she bites her lip and you already clicked too fast but you still stare at the screen like an idiot. There’s a scene in a locker room where you’re supposed to interrogate someone, but I spent longer just clicking around the background, watching how the camera plays with pov angles, like the game knows you’re not here for the “investigation.” It calls itself a point and click and yeah, technically, but really it’s “point at who you wanna ruin and click until your mouse is sticky.”

What actually got me hooked was how your powers keep crashing into your dick. You’re supposed to be this rising hero, but half the time the “dark alter-ego” side feels more honest than the goody-two-shoes act. You’ll be in some tense meteor-related situation, and the choice is literally: save someone properly, or push them up against a wall and pound them while the sky glows outside. The game doesn’t pretend that domination is nice or clean either. There are moments where you grab her hair, force her to look at you while you’re buried inside, and the text is like, “You know this isn’t who you want to be,” while you immediately click “go harder” because self-control is for people not opening porn tabs in Chrome. It’s horny, messy, sometimes weirdly romantic when Clark accidentally says something soft after filling someone up, but you just know he’s going to screw it all up again five clicks later. Honestly, it feels a bit like my love life, if I had superpowers and people actually wanted to fuck me.

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.

Heavy metal sky, poison fog somewhere far under your feet, and you stuck on this floating rust bucket where everybody pretends they’re professional and noble until the lights go dim and belts come off. That’s the vibe here. You’re the new guy on the elite resource crew, supposed to be all serious with scanners and oxygen levels and “mission focus,” but half your brain is already thinking about that mechanic girl in the hangar who keeps “checking” your harness straps way too slow. On the surface it’s all sci-fi gear, suits, fancy tools, but between trips it turns into something closer to a porn hub search history that learned how to walk. You go from briefing room to blowjob in a storage closet faster than Discord goes from “hey guys” to full rule 34. Some of the scenes hit hard out of nowhere too. One moment you’re watching the airship drift through this neon green cloud, listening to some low hum like a chill lo-fi playlist, next moment you’re on your knees between someone’s thighs, hands tied to a pipe, feeling her thighs push your face deeper while she rides your mouth like it’s the last oxygen tank on the ship. The animation has this slightly off timing sometimes, which weirdly makes it feel more real, like when a horny cam model’s camera lags on Chaturbate and your brain just fills in the movement anyway.

What I liked is how the sex isn’t just “reward unlocked, congrats, here is generic pose number three.” There’s this scene after a rough mission where you stumble back to your bunk, sweating, gear still half on, and this older officer follows you in, locks the hatch, pushes you to sit, then just sinks down on your cock without a word. No slow fade, no speech, just this desperate grind. You feel the airship tilt a bit, alarms muffled in the background, and she clamps down on you right when some turbine roars outside. She rides you hard, nails digging into your shoulders, and when she makes you cum inside her, it doesn’t cut away. She just stays there, full of you, breathing heavy, one gloved hand on your chest, and you see your cum leak out slowly when she finally lifts off and tells you to “suit up again, hero.” That creampie shot with the light from a cracked porthole flickering over her skin honestly stuck in my head more than the big “story” moment before it. Funny thing, the UI color drives me crazy, by the way, this weird shade that looks like someone tried to copy Spotify in low light and failed. Anyway, the BDSM bits start almost playful then escalate, like the first time they strap you to that inspection table “for a safety scan” and suddenly the restraints tighten more than they need to. There’s a scene where they gag you with an air filter strap and use you until you’re basically just a toy, and at the same time the game pretends it’s still about keeping the city alive. It lies. This thing is about mouths full of cock in maintenance shafts, messy cream dripping onto cold metal floors, and that strange feeling when you’re hanging from a cable over the toxic fog thinking about how good it felt when the captain’s boot pressed between your shoulder blades while she rode you from behind and told you you’re just another resource to extract.

You wake up wrong. That is the first thing that hit me. Not heroic, not cool cyberpunk badass, just this sick, half-loaded feeling like your soul got dragged through a glitchy Pornhub ad. You’re in your backup sleeve, lying in some cheap future med-bay, the kind that smells like burnt plastic and sex lube, and your own body doesn’t quite fit. Your fingers are a bit too long, your chest feels heavy in a way it shouldn’t, heart rate monitor chirping like a horny bird, and your vision keeps tearing like a bad stream on xVideos. Crew’s a mess, ship’s a mess, and your upload is corrupted enough that if you calm down, you die. Which is a fucked up way of saying: you literally need to be kept turned on just to keep your brain from shutting off.

The “keep his heart rate up” thing sounds like a cheesy porn excuse, and yeah, it is, but here it actually wraps around into the story surprisingly tight. You’re surrounded by these thick-thighed, short-haired, neon-dyed space girls that look like someone smashed together a strip club and a hacker bar, then sprinkled futa on top for good measure. They are not gentle nurses. You’re not in some healing crystal spa. You are meat they are determined to keep pumping, with hands that wander the second the monitor dips below a number they like. One moment the medic is calmly explaining your neural corruption, next moment her gloved hand slides under your hospital sheet and she squeezes like she’s testing a weapon part. The captain leans over you, short hair brushing your face, tits spilling out of a half-open suit, and she’s pissed you almost died but she’s also grinding on your thigh with this lazy, practiced dominance that says she has done this before with other poor fucks on other poor ships.

I liked how the game doesn’t even pretend to be subtle about the body stuff. Your sleeve is customizable, but not in that boring “pick eye color, done” way. It’s big asses that bounce when you get grabbed, heavy tits that strain cheap fabric, cocks and clits and both, because why not if you’re paying for a synthetic body anyway. Cyberpunk setting, sure, there are glowing cityscapes outside the porthole and some talk about data smuggling and black clinic surgeons, but honestly the real sci-fi here is “how far can we push this body before the heart flatlines.” There is this one scene that stuck with me: you’re strapped into this sloopy auto-doc chair, and a futa crew engineer, all colorful undercut and grease on her cheeks, is pretending to “check your reflexes” while she slowly strokes you with one hand and plays with the med panel with the other, watching the HR line spike when she squeezes your balls just a bit too hard. And the worst part? She keeps half-talking about thruster repairs, like she’s multitasking you like any other ship component.

Not everything lands. Some of the dialogue comes out a bit stiff in the wrong way, like someone tried to write badass one-liners while also jerking off and lost the balance. There is a moment where a character calls a neural buffer a “quantum RAM thingy” and I still don’t know if that’s on purpose or just lazy, but I kind of love it because it feels like late-night shitposting turned into a game script. The pacing jumps all over: one second you’re gasping, being ridden hard by a thick-hipped futanari officer who pins your wrists to keep your pulse up, the next second someone brings up fuel dates and cargo lists like we didn’t just watch you cum all over the med bed. Also, tiny complaint that bugged me way more than it should: the damn heart rate sound is slightly too high-pitched, like my Fitbit having an orgasm, and it made me reach for my phone twice, thinking I got a notification. Still, when the girls crowd around you, colored hair brushing your skin, their hands greedy, their voices low and bossy, using your overheating body as both patient and toy, that shrill little beep just disappears into the background like any other cheap future noise. Sex as life support. Literally. It’s messed up, and it works.