Not even sure why I clicked on that thumbnail, maybe boredom or curiosity, but this thing went way further than I expected. It’s weird how they made Samus look both powerful and humiliated at the same time - like she’s still that cold bounty hunter under all the mess, but the game keeps pushing her into situations that feel filthy in a way that’s almost hypnotic. You start thinking you’re just clicking through another cheap parody, then suddenly you’re adjusting sliders for things you didn’t think you’d ever have control over. There’s something so wrong about it, yet it’s done with a confidence that makes you forget to question it. I don’t even know if that’s good or bad.

The controls are clunky sometimes, especially when you try to switch between the toys - the physics go crazy, and I laughed instead of getting turned on. But then again, when the tentacles start moving in sync with her breathing, that laughter dies real quick. The sound design is grossly effective: too wet, too close, like someone’s recording from inside her throat. I kept muting it and unmuting again because silence felt even dirtier. The “pee” option caught me off guard; I thought it was a joke setting until I saw how detailed the animation was. Maybe too detailed. And the cake thing? I still don’t get it, but it sticks in your head like a smell you can’t wash off.

I guess what hits hardest is how the game doesn’t pretend to be anything noble. It’s pure control fantasy, ugly and honest. Sometimes she looks back at the camera and there’s this flicker - maybe shame, maybe pleasure - and I can’t tell which one turns me on more. The UI is garbage, but you end up forgetting about it, just lost in rhythm and skin and that awful metallic echo when she moans. I closed the tab, opened it again ten minutes later, and hated myself slightly less the second time.

Kasumi Rebirth feels like catching someone’s private mod folder that accidentally got pushed live and nobody had the heart to stop it. It’s just Kasumi, chained up, not doing the “cool ninja” thing at all, and the whole game is basically you seeing how far you can push her body before you get bored or feel weird about yourself. She hangs there in those metal restraints, soft skin, big tits squeezed by the outfit that you immediately start ripping off, because of course you do. There is no fake romance, no “story” pretending this isn’t what it is. You poke her, grab her, slide hands over her tits, pinch her nipples a bit too hard, then harder, just to see if the reaction changes. It turns into this quiet little lab experiment: what if I put fingers in her pussy first, then in her ass, then both, then ignore both and just use her tits like they are toys made of warm jelly. The game doesn’t judge. It just lets you be a freak in peace.

The main loop of Kasumi Rebirth is strangely hypnotic: click, drag, spread her legs, tilt her hips, line her up for doggystyle, then get distracted and go back to playing with her mouth. You pull her head back, slide a dildo between her lips, watch those eyes say everything without a single line of dialog. Deepthroat her with plastic, then switch holes like a bored god with too much free time. Pussy, ass, mouth, back to pussy, then push it in her asshole again just because you like the way she tightens around it. You can masturbate her slowly, tease her clit until she twitches, then ram something inside and go straight for a rough creampie like the concept of foreplay never existed. Cumshots on her face, on her breasts, slipping down her body, and at some point I tried to see if I could cover both tits perfectly and got annoyed because one drop kept sliding off the side in a stupid way that distracted me more than it should. There is also this breast expansion thing going on that feels like someone’s late-night fever dream: you start tweaking and pumping and suddenly her big tits are not just big, they are ridiculous, heavy, almost comical, but somehow it works because this game stopped pretending to be “normal” a long time ago. It is rough, it is ***-y, it is torture dressed up as “gentle play”, and yet the whole thing has this old-school Internet porn game energy that makes you keep testing one more position, one more angle, one more messy facial, just to see how far Kasumi’s body can be turned into a toy before you finally close the tab and swear you’re done with Dead or Alive girls forever.

Within this wild flash encounter, a savage mix of Batman and Wonder Woman unfolds. Like ravenous beasts, they fuck each other relentlessly, lost in pure carnal chaos.

It all begins with Wonder Woman lavishing attention on Batman’s swollen balls, her lips wrapping around them hungrily. Her oral skills escalate quickly, moving deeper as she engulfs his shaft, bobbing her head with relentless enthusiasm.

Grunting with pleasure, Batman grabs her brunette locks, guiding her mouth with possessive hunger. Their bodies burn against one another, sweat mixing with kisses, the air thick with lust.

She turns around and offers her perfect ass to Batman, who plunges into her with primal force. Batman pounds her ass hard and fast, each stroke sending jolts of raw pleasure through both of them.

He cums hard inside her, filling her with his release as she holds every last drop in her tight hole. She shivers under him, her curves glistening with sweat and proof of their brutal fuck.

Experience the raw passion of these two legends in a hardcore mix of oral, anal, cumshots, and tight brunette curves. For anyone craving a hardcore, unfiltered romp with these beloved characters, this flash game delivers exactly that.

Wonder Woman chained up in some sleazy high tech lab, stripped out of all that heroic pride and dropped right into a pervy science project. That’s basically the mood here, and honestly, it’s filthy in a very direct way. No long build up, no big moral conflict, just Diana already captured, restrained like a lab rat while this creep of a doctor runs his little “experiments” on her. He talks like a cartoon villain, but the toys he’s using on her are anything but funny. She’s stuck there, amazon body exposed, legs forced open, ass lifted, mouth ready, everything turned into a test field for his machines. If you came here to see a noble superheroine getting worshipped, you’re in the wrong lab. Here she’s more like expensive equipment, used until she breaks. I like that. I hate that. It works too well.

What really messes with your head is those four stupid joysticks. At first they look like a joke, like some old arcade control, but then you realize each one is tied to a different way the doc is using her. One pushes the fucking machine harder into her pussy, one speeds up the thing stretching her ass, another controls something in her mouth, the last one runs the milking gear clamped to her tits like she’s cattle. You don’t just click and watch; you’re nudging those sticks, feeling like you’re literally puppeteering her torture session. You go “ok, just a little faster” and suddenly she’s gasping, drooling, eyes rolling, trying to hold that proud Diana Prince face while everything in her body says she lost already. I caught myself focusing only on her tits for a while, cranking the milker up and down just to see that perfect amazon chest twitch and leak, then forgetting the other devices are still going full speed. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. It’s strangely funny when her whole body is out of sync, like each hole is living its own nightmare rhythm and she’s just stuck in the middle.

The humiliation angle is heavy but not subtle at all. They throw in little nods to Justice League, like she’s supposed to be out there saving the world while here she is choking on some machine like the world’s strongest cocksleeve. There’s something obscene about hearing her try to threaten the doctor while a dildo is already hitting the back of her throat and the anal toy is buzzing like crazy inside her. She tries to sound like Wonder Woman, the same one from the comics who lectures gods and punches tanks, but her voice keeps breaking into moans, and that contrast is the real kink here. You start treating her not as a character you grew up with, but as a toy you’re “testing” for quality, adjusting speed, watching how long it takes before the proud Amazon melts into a broken, cum-soaked lab sample. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle, it’s not heroic. Just hardcore, mechanical, dirty experimentation on a brunette goddess who should be on a Justice League poster, not bent over in a lab getting pumped from every angle until the doctor is satisfied his machines can ruin even a superhero.