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.

I swear this game messed with my head more than any so-called “psychological” visual novel ever did. You wake up rich, spoiled, surrounded by girls who look like they stepped straight out of some fever-dream crossover - like, imagine Asuka Langley arguing with Hinata about who gets to sit closer to you at breakfast, and then Merlin just casually walks in wearing nothing but a towel that doesn’t even try to do its job. It’s ridiculous, yet there’s something weirdly believable about it. Maybe because the dream logic fits too well: everything looks perfect, but your brain keeps whispering that something’s off. I liked that uneasy feeling until it got buried under all the moaning and skin. Then again, maybe that’s the point - when reality breaks, people reach for pleasure first. Or I’m overthinking pixels again.

There’s this scene - I won’t spoil too much - but you’re supposed to choose between helping Yor Forger study or letting Jinx drag you to her room. I picked Yor, thinking it’d be wholesome. Yeah, right. Five clicks later she’s on the desk, glasses half-off, saying things no spy should ever say. The animation isn’t flawless; sometimes her eyes lag behind her face, which made me laugh when I shouldn’t have. But that glitchy charm stuck with me longer than any of the polished stuff. And the sound design? Way too real. My cheap headphones couldn’t handle Tsunade’s voice purring through them. Still, I kept replaying the same moment like an idiot chasing déjà vu.

Funny thing: I started playing for the sexy chaos, but ended up stuck thinking about that blank-memory setup. Like maybe the main guy deserves the confusion. Maybe we all do. It’s a horny game pretending to be philosophical - or a philosophical game pretending to be horny. Doesn’t matter. When Nami whispers something about “remembering the wrong things,” I actually paused. Then I unpaused, because, well… she was already moving.

There’s something weird about how this one feels - the way it takes the whole Ben 10 universe and just throws shame out the window. You play as Albedo pretending to be Ben, which already sets the tone: lying, manipulating, and then somehow turning all that twisted energy into desire. The training part doesn’t even feel like “training,” not in the academic sense. It’s more like emotional blackmail mixed with light teasing until Gwen starts giving you that look that says she knows exactly what’s happening but pretends she doesn’t. Then there’s Charmcaster, who might actually be the only one having fun, because her lines feel improvised, almost too human - like she knows this is a parody and wants to out-parody it. The combat moments interrupt everything, yet somehow make it hotter? I don’t even know why. Turn-based fighting shouldn’t feel erotic, but the tension between attacks does something unusual when paired with the dialogue.

What threw me off was Julie - she arrives later than expected, acts innocent, then immediately flips the tone with these ridiculously detailed animations that linger longer than they should. There’s a sleep scene that made me pause for a bit, not out of guilt but because it’s so quiet, like the game itself is holding its breath. You can mess up interactions too, which I did on purpose the second time, just to see if Gwen would still act smug after losing trust points. She didn’t. She broke character completely, started being sweet. It was confusing and kind of perfect. Also, whoever wrote the Rook sequences either hates men in uniform or secretly loves them too much - it’s hard to tell.

I wish the sound effects weren’t so clean; they’re too precise, like digital slaps trying to mimic skin. Still, it’s absurdly addictive, the way every lewd moment doubles as a power fantasy. I kept switching between saving the world and ruining it because both options felt right. Maybe that’s the point, or maybe the devs just forgot to pick a tone. Doesn’t matter. I’ll keep opening it “just to test something.” Always end up back at the same scene anyway.

It’s a weird kind of wrong that feels almost too confident about itself. The game just throws you right into this hotel-room-styled tension between Ben and Gwen, like there’s no excuse, no build-up, just quiet breathing and the kind of slow curiosity that only gets worse the more you watch. The control scheme is barely there - you think you’re just clicking around to peek, but then you’re moving hands and lips like you’re trying to pass off an accident as an experiment. The pacing makes it feel like time stretches sideways. There’s that one moment where Gwen turns, half-asleep, and it’s not clear if she knows what’s happening, and you catch yourself leaning closer like a total creep. God help me, I think that’s intentional.

Half the time the audio feels too loud, but maybe that’s the point - it’s not polished, like it’s meant to break the “cartoon world” with uncomfortable realism. The blowjob scene looks like it was stitched together by someone who didn’t care about pretty, just raw motion, the way her throat tightens around him while he mutters things that sound more like apologies than dirty talk. And then when you switch to doggystyle, yeah it’s cliché, but the way the lighting flickers - it’s distracting as hell and, weirdly, kind of hypnotic. The game’s rhythm keeps screwing with you: it slows down on the heavy stuff like missionary creampie and then speeds up when you least expect, like the code itself is embarrassed about what it’s showing. I got annoyed at that. Then again, maybe that’s why I didn’t stop.

You can tell whoever made this knew exactly what nostalgia they were playing with, too. There’s this sick mix of childhood memory and adult hunger that no one wants to admit enjoying. Kind of like watching something too close to a secret. The handjob bit feels almost shy, then the facial lands out of nowhere, breaking the build-up in the most abrupt, stupidly real way. I hate that it worked. I hate that my mouse hand twitched even after the final loop restarted. If that’s not the most human reaction, I don’t know what is.