Space family trip sounds cute on paper, right? Like some Instagram thing with matching suits and zero gravity hugs. This is not that. Here you start as a regular married guy who just wants to pay the damn mortgage and get his two stepdaughters through college, and suddenly you’re stuck on a paid “social experiment” in space where everyone around you gets their memories deleted… except you. So they wake up in this high-tech station, no clue who you are, who they are to you, nothing. You still remember every family dinner, every birthday, every time they called you dad. And then the game just looks at you and basically asks: are you going to be a good man, or are you going to be a complete fucking monster?

What makes it feel nasty in a good way is how normal everything looks at first. Clean corridors, organized rooms, your wife chatting, the girls wandering around in their little sci-fi outfits, curious and clueless. You talk to them and they treat you like some random stranger, and that hits harder than any porn setup. There is this one early scene where the younger stepdaughter is just sitting by a big window, staring out at the planet, and you can either comfort her like a worried dad or slide into this slow corruption path, touching just a bit too long, saying just a bit too much. Game doesn’t scream at you that it’s “evil”, it just lets you do it and quietly keeps track. Of course, if you push it, you get the heavy stuff: cheating on your wife while she’s right there in the same station, NTR stuff where other guys start sniffing around your girls if you play too soft, breeding content if you go full degenerate and start knocking people up. Sometimes the camera hangs just a second longer on a stare, or on a hand on a hip, and it’s more erotic than the full-on sex scene that comes after. Or it’s just my brain being cooked, could be that too.

The sci-fi part is not just wallpaper either. You got weird labs where they test “compatibility”, voyeur points where you watch what the others are doing in the showers or private cabins, exhibition stuff where your stepdaughter is walking around half naked in some gravity adjustment test and doesn’t understand why the crew is drooling over her. There is this one voyeur scene where your wife thinks she’s single again and flirts with some tall alien-looking dude, and the game lets you decide if you just watch, interfere, or let it slide into full-on NTR and then pretend later you “didn’t see”. And the animations are dirty in a very physical way: skin-on-skin, rough BDSM sessions with cuffs and collars in a sterile white room, interracial gangbang in a research bay like it’s just another experiment. The whole thing feels like a long bad decision tree from an old choose-your-own-adventure book, except every “turn to page 78” is basically “do you keep your morals or do you fuck your whole family’s life up in the horniest way possible”. It’s gross, it’s hot, it makes you pause on the save screen way too often, and then you still click the worst option.

Second year at Wentford is supposed to be about skipping lectures, half‑assed lab reports and maybe getting laid at some drunk dorm party if you’re lucky. Instead, you blow up one after‑class experiment, wake up with a dick, tits, curves and a body that can’t decide if it wants to be the heroine of a romance VN or the main attraction of Pornhub’s weirdest search page. The game throws you right into that “oh shit” feeling: you’re still you, same memories, same best friend from childhood, same crushes, but now every shower, every locker room, every crowded hallway in campus hits different. People you knew look at you in a new way. Some stare. Some pretend they don’t, then you catch them in the mirror. The whole vibe is “I’m not supposed to be turned on by this” while you’re very obviously turned on by this. It’s funny too, in that stupid meme way. The script has dumb jokes about bad chemistry puns, Dragon Ball references that are slightly wrong on purpose, and horny banter that actually sounds like Discord chat, not like some old dude trying to write “modern youth”. One moment you’re trying to figure out your schedule, next moment your professor bends over the desk and your new dick has its own plans. There is this scene in the lab, where you try to hide a raging futa boner behind a clipboard while your best friend talks about reaction yields, and the animation focuses on her lips way more than on the glassware. It’s not subtle. At all.

Sex stuff ramps up slowly if you want, then suddenly you’re juggling a horny roommate with big tits who “accidentally” walks around in a crop top, a milf neighbor who brings you homemade cookies and checks your “recovery”, and a bunch of girls at campus who think you’re the coolest freak accident ever. Sometimes it’s soft and romantic, kissing in the rain near the dorms, slow handjob in the dark, quiet little I‑love‑you that feels too real. Then next route it’s you buried between a thick ass and a pillow, watching your own cock slide into someone while another girl sits on your face, and you’re like, yeah ok, this escalated. There is lesbian stuff, there is full futa on girl pounding, there is anal that starts with teasing and ends with a messy creampie where you didn’t expect it, there is even that one scene where you get a footjob on the couch while another girl pretends to watch Netflix on her phone. Animations are short loops but they hit the right spots: hips rolling, cum spurts, tongue on clit, subtle ass jiggle. I like that they show the body transformation not just as “haha now you’re hot” but as corruption too. Your choices push you toward being caring and romantic, or a voyeur creep spying through doors, or a jealous cheater who fucks someone raw then still goes home to cuddle another girl like nothing happened. The interracial stuff slips in like it’s no big deal, which I personally like, but some people might want more build‑up there. I kinda wish the school parts had more actual studying, more chemistry puzzles or something, but who am I kidding, nobody loads an eroge for balanced academia. I opened it “just to check it out” on my phone, next thing I know I’m doing route math in a Google Keep note and replaying that scene where your best friend slowly goes from shy curiosity to grinding on your lap in the dorm chair. And there was something I wanted to say about titfucking in the bathroom stall, but now I’m thinking about the corrupted version of that same girl later, when she offers herself to a whole group like it’s totally natural, and I forgot what my point was. Anyway, the game is one long, horny identity crisis with big asses, big choices and that special kind of campus chaos where every door you open might have someone masturbating behind it, including you.

You start as this guy who was living the dream on the court, and then your body just says “fuck you” and everything crashes. No more crowds, no more glory, just painkillers, physio, and a silence that feels way too loud. I liked how the game makes you sit with that for a bit. You’re not some magic gigachad from second one. You limp, you doubt yourself, you stare at your own reflection like “what now, idiot?”. And then the old college calls, throws you a lifeline in the shape of a girls’ basketball team that needs a coach, and suddenly that empty space in your life gets filled with sweat, tight uniforms, and way too many questionable thoughts during practice.

The mood shifts fast once you meet the team. They’re all in these fitted sport uniforms that hug every line, stretching over wet skin in the locker room, shorts riding up when they run drills. The game takes its time with the locker room scenes, the way water slides down their thighs in the showers, the way a simple stretch turns into your eyes getting stuck on bouncing tits and exposed underwear. It starts kind of innocent, like “you’re their mentor, be professional”, and then there’s this one late practice where you’re doing one-on-one training, her breathing all heavy, sweat shining on her abs, and she says she wants a “special reward” if she hits enough free throws. Suddenly she’s on her knees in the empty gym, lights low, giving you messy deep oral right there on the polished floor, her ponytail brushing your thigh while her uniform top is pushed up, nipples hard. The animation on her lips sliding down your shaft is surprisingly detailed, the little gag, the string of spit when she pulls away to catch her breath. You’re supposed to be correcting her form, and instead she’s stroking you with one hand, still gripping the ball with the other like it’s some dirty joke only you two understand. When you finally push her down on the bench and fuck her raw, legs spread, sneakers still on, the creampie shot is thick and slow, dripping out while she’s trying not to moan too loud in case someone walks in.

And then the story decides that’s not enough chaos and drops your ex back into the city. The one you knocked up during that “break” with your wife that was definitely not a real break. She shows up like a bomb. She’s softer than the sporty girls, more curves, more emotional landmine. There’s this scene where you meet her in some bland cafe, and under the table she starts rubbing your thigh like nothing happened, like she didn’t drag a whole kid-shaped problem into your life. Later on, at her place, it’s a totally different vibe from the gym sex. Lights low, slow romance mixed with guilt, handjob on the couch while the TV plays some random bullshit, her thumb teasing your tip while she looks you right in the eye and asks if you ever think about “that night”. You end up fucking her proper, bare, sinking into that familiar pussy, and it’s not just lust, it’s this heavy, dangerous comfort. The game leans into the wrongness of it without apologizing. There’s vaginal, there’s sloppy oral, there’s her riding you until your cum leaks out of her and stains the sheets, and for a moment it almost feels wholesome which makes it worse. Then next day you’re back in the gym with a cute rookie stretching in front of you, shorts sliding up her ass, and your phone buzzing with your ex’s messages, and you realize this guy’s life is one long fast break straight into a wall. I kinda loved it. I kinda hated everyone. I clicked “next” anyway.

The Builder hits different when you're scrolling through adult games at 1 AM wondering why your dating life resembles a construction site - all foundation problems and nothing getting erected properly. This isn't your typical "hot singles in your area" fantasy though. You're literally commissioned to build a memorial in some remote northern village, which sounds about as sexy as assembling IKEA furniture until you realize the real job description involves repopulating the entire female population. Talk about false advertising on the work contract.

What gets me is how they frame this whole breeding mission like you're some kind of fertility superhero sent to save humanity. The village women need babies to prevent extinction, and apparently you're the chosen sperm donor with architectural skills. It's weirdly wholesome for a game where you're basically going around creampie-ing everyone in sight. The pregnancy mechanics actually matter here - you're tracking cycles, watching bellies grow, dealing with morning sickness drama. One minute you're laying bricks for this memorial, next minute you're laying pipe to fulfill your biological destiny. The voyeurism elements let you peek around corners watching daily village life unfold, which adds this creepy-but-compelling stalker vibe to the whole experience.

The choice-based system means you can't just button-mash your way through conversations like some horny speedrunner. You actually have to charm these women, learn their stories, figure out who responds to teasing versus who wants the romantic buildup. Some want oral foreplay, others jump straight to vaginal action - the variety keeps things interesting even when you're essentially working through a checklist of wombs to fill. The harem aspect develops naturally as relationships overlap and pregnancies progress simultaneously. By year's end you've got this weird domestic situation where you're the village stud, memorial builder, and soon-to-be father to half the next generation. It's like playing house but with actual consequences and a lot more bodily fluids involved.