Guy just wants some cold air and maybe a drink, ends up trapped in the quietest, horniest little horror-comedy grocery store on earth. That’s the vibe here. You walk in, sun burning your brain, and suddenly the outside world just kind of... blinks out. The door locks, shelves feel slightly wrong, lights flicker like they’re trying to flirt, and there she is behind the counter: tiny goth clerk with a stare like she already knows exactly how weak you are. Not the cliché latex dominatrix thing, more like “sleep-deprived art major who could crush your soul with one sarcastic comment” mixed with “MILF energy in training,” if that makes sense. Big tits under a cheap t‑shirt, jeans, zero effort styling, but somehow she looks like a walking fetish ad that forgot to be subtle.

The weird part is, nothing technically “happens.” No actual sex, no naked bodies flying around, nobody jumping your dick. It’s all edging, all mind games, like the game is blueballing you on purpose and laughing. She’ll lean over the counter just a little too far, bend down to grab something so her ass lines up perfectly with your eyes, stretch like she’s in a yoga ad, then act like you’re the creep for looking. She calls you out for every tiny reaction, every stolen glance, like she’s reading your browser history in real time. At one point she casually drops a line about how “guys like you are easy to rewire” and the screen does this tiny flicker and yeah, you feel it. Not jump scare, more like you skipped a frame in your own head. You’re not sure if she’s hypnotic or just really good at gaslighting, but you start clicking through lines faster, waiting for some kind of payoff that never quite lands. It’s a kinetic novel, so no choices, no branches, you’re just strapped into her vibe. That’s kinda annoying and kinda perfect. You keep thinking “ok, next scene she’s gonna finally do something,” and instead she just mocks you, teases harder, leans in with that bored stare and explains exactly how she could make you crawl with a single word. Then nothing. Then a joke. Then she looks straight at you again and tells you you’re breathing too loud.

What got me is how the voyeurism hits without any peepholes or secret cams. You’re just there, stuck, watching her do normal clerk stuff while she very obviously watches you watching her. It flips around, like you become the thing on display. She wipes down the counter real slow, checks her phone, pops gum, types something you can’t see, then smiles in that “yeah, I just changed something in your brain” way. At one point she makes you read signs on the wall, stupid boring rules, but the text starts feeling like commands, like she’s training a dog. She never raises her voice, never goes full “kneel, worm” mode, but you still feel dominated, like your dick is on a leash you can’t see. The humor is messed up in a good way too; she’ll roast your porn tastes, call out your search terms, then switch to dead-serious for two lines and talk about control and consent like a late-night TED talk in a haunted 7‑Eleven, then immediately ask if you’re thirsty. Zero subtle transition. The art is rough but kinda perfect for it, she’s cute and a little off-model from scene to scene, which almost sells the idea your memory is being edited. There’s no big climax, no “and then you bang her” scene, it just leaves you horny, slightly confused, and lowkey worried she’s going to show up in your dreams and make you apologize for scrolling Twitter during the dialogue.

Lena looks like the kind of girl who should be in some boring office job, not standing half naked in a sweat-soaked ring with some psycho redhead trying to choke her out while the crowd yells for more tits. That clash is what makes this game hit different. You don’t start as some overpowered porn goddess, you start as a broke girl stuck in a shit city, dragged into sexfights because her idiot dad couldn’t stay away from cards. New Ipswich feels like one of those places from a trashy crime anime that never got a second season: neon, sleaze, and everyone pretending this is “just business” while they bet on who gets fucked on the mat. The whole sexfighting thing sounds silly on paper, then you’re in your first real match, Lena’s breathing heavy, sweat on her skin, the other girl grabbing her hair, and suddenly the humiliation hits harder than the punches. Either you dominate, or you get used. It’s that simple and that messed up.

The fights are not just button mashing. You switch from strikes and holds into sex moves so fast it feels illegal. One second you’re working a clinch, next second the crowd is chanting for Lena to “open up” and you actually consider it because if she goes full tease, she can flip the mental game. Let an enemy strip her top off in front of the audience and the shame drains her focus, but if you time it right and Lena turns it around, pins the girl, crotch grinding on her face, forcing her to lick while the camera zooms in on every wet detail, suddenly she’s the one owning the exhibition. I had this one match where I played it “nice” for too long, tried to win clean with jabs and throws, and the rival just snapped, mounted Lena, shoved fingers in her, rode her to a sloppy creampie in front of everyone and then walked off like she just claimed a trophy. I actually paused and stared at the screen like: “ok, that escalated.” It’s rude in a good way. Or a bad way. Depends how broken you are.

What caught me off guard is how the game leans into both sides of domination without pretending they are equal. Sometimes Lena is on top, literally sitting on a girl’s face, grabbing her hair, forcing her to eat her out while flashing her big tits to the crowd like she owns the whole damn city. Sometimes it flips and a bigger fighter or some smug guy just treats her like a toy, using her throat, pushing past her limits, making her cum against her will, then leaving her on the sticky canvas with that dazed, fucked-out look. The humiliation is not soft either. They taunt, spit, pull her legs open, finish inside her while the gamblers laugh, and the game just quietly nudges you like: “hey, she still has debts to pay.” It even has these quiet moments in the locker room after, where Lena is leaning against the wall, thighs still trembling, and you’re picking what she does next, who she confronts, whether she chases power or just survives. It almost feels romantic sometimes when she faces another girl who clearly wants her as much as she wants to win, tongue tangled with knuckles, lesbian heat right in the middle of a dirty brawl. Then some asshole promoter reminds you she’s just another body to bet on and the mood dies. That’s kind of the charm though: nothing is clean here. Sex is a weapon, a punishment, a reward, and half the time Lena’s not sure which one she’s holding.

Dahlia’s Ordeal feels like watching an edgy late‑night fantasy cartoon that someone hacked and replaced half the scenes with porn and the other half with people getting hurt for real. The whole thing rides on this one girl, Dahlia, who looks like she should be the sweet fantasy princess type, but the game just keeps kicking her down the stairs, figuratively and sometimes almost literally. It starts kind of slow, like a normal mystery with creepy family tension, you walk around, click through dialogue, try to figure out who’s lying, and then suddenly the story grabs you by the throat with graphic violence and ugly family shit. One moment people are arguing in a quiet room with candlelight, next moment there’s blood on the floor and you’re wondering when exactly things went off the rails. The corruption angle is not subtle at all: she gets pushed, pressured, blackmailed, humiliated, then you get these choices where you can lean into it and make her act filthier, or try to keep her some kind of “good girl” while everything around her rots. Both roads are fucked, just in different flavors.

From the animation side, the cutscenes are rough in a way that kind of fits the story. You can feel the team is going for 2D comic vibes: sharp lines, expressive faces, a lot of close‑ups on eyes, lips, hands. During the oral scenes, the camera loves staying on her face, drool stringing down, mascara a bit wrecked, that kind of cheap but effective porn shot. There is one scene where Dahlia is on her knees in a dark corridor, forced to give a handjob while her uncle keeps talking about “family duty” and the camera doesn’t show penetration at all, just his hand in her hair and her fingers squeezing around his shaft in rhythm. The animation is slightly jittery, frames not always smooth, but that roughness weirdly makes it feel more uncomfortable, like you’re watching something you’re not supposed to see. And then you get a spanking cutscene where the sound design suddenly goes hard: the smack noises are sharp, skin gets red panel by panel, and the camera keeps cutting between her biting her lip and his hand raised again. They clearly had fun drawing bruises. Maybe too much fun.

Sexual harassment scenes are everywhere and honestly a bit exhausting. Guards grabbing her, hands on her thigh during “normal” conversations, people calling her names, using her as bargaining chip, all that trainer‑style slow breaking of a girl who started with some pride. And the story kind of teases “retribution” but keeps you hanging, so for a long time it’s just her being used: forced oral, shoved against walls, humiliation in front of people that should protect her. There’s one oral scene where the guy finishes on her face, then wipes it with his thumb and makes her lick it, and instead of going full porn glam the art keeps her looking small, a bit dead in the eyes. I liked that they didn’t glamorize the bloodier moments either; when graphic violence happens, it’s messy, quick, and not “cool”. Sometimes the expressions go wonky, like she looks cross‑eyed during a serious line, or hands are weird, and UI text boxes clip into the art in a way that made me stare more at the font than her tits. Also whoever chose that notification sound should be in jail, it pings at the worst moments and I kept thinking Discord was open. The cheating angle is there too, half‑whispered: people fucking behind backs, Dahlia being pushed into acts that betray what little family loyalty she still has, but the game never stops to moralize. It just lets the ugliness sit on the screen. I kept waiting for a soft, wholesome scene, like a break, a bath, a hug. It never really comes.

Nolan’s life goes to shit in one afternoon. Fired, broke, ego crushed, he runs away to this tiny town that looks like it was ripped out of some cozy postcard, the kind of place where the loudest thing at night is a cricket and someone’s shitty truck. He just wants to drift, jerk off in peace, maybe pull himself together eventually. Instead, he walks straight into a war. A mega-corp shows up with glossy smiles and legal papers, ready to kick everyone out and drill the ground until there’s nothing left but holes and regret. And the most ridiculous part? The one thing standing between the town and total ruin is who he decides to fuck. Not metaphorically. Literally, who he puts his dick in changes the fate of everything.

Every route feels like its own little universe. One evening you’re on a rickety porch swing with the girl who pretends she doesn’t care, her shirt two sizes too small for those massive tits that bounce even when she breathes. She lights a cigarette, complains about the corporate scum, then suddenly she’s on her knees between your legs, mouthing off about “stress relief” while her lips wrap around your cock. The blowjob scene there is slow and messy, with more focus on her expression than any fancy camera bullshit. She gags, wipes spit off her chin with the back of her hand, grins like a brat, then asks you what you’re willing to sacrifice. You click a choice while your dick is still inside her throat. That’s the tone. Plot and porn stitched together so hard they start to feel the same. Another night, different path, you’re in a cramped office drowning in paperwork with the “responsible” woman. She’s got the biggest boobs in the whole game, all tightly packed into a blouse that begs for mercy. She makes you help her crunch numbers for some sneaky legal counterattack, and it’s actually kind of tense, kind of smart. Then, as a “reward,” she closes the door, climbs on your lap, pulls your cock out and presses it against herself while your hand is buried under her bra, fingers squeezing those huge, warm tits. She starts grinding, whispering in your ear about court filings and land ownership while you’re trying not to cum in your pants too early. When she finally slides you in and rides you until you creampie her on her desk, the game quietly shifts a flag in the background that changes the entire endgame strategy. It looks like a porn scene, but the script underneath is doing work.

What really sells it is how low-key rude the game is about your choices. You don’t just pick “good guy” or “asshole” from a menu. You decide whose bed you end up in, how honest you are with them, whether you pull out or fill them up, whether you help with their weird late-night problem or just jerk off alone thinking about their huge tits and fall asleep. There are several moments where the game lets you be a selfish dick in very horny ways. Like the shower scene where she’s already stroking you with soapy hands, water running over those big breasts, and you can either help her wash or just grab her head and fuck her throat until she’s choking on your cum, then pretend you didn’t notice she wanted more intimacy. That tiny click will echo much later when the town is on the edge and she suddenly trusts you less, or more, depending how you handled her. There’s a masturbation scene where Nolan imagines different futures with each woman, jerking himself off while the game quietly branches according to whose face he’s picturing when he finishes. Handjob scenes sometimes feel more loaded than full-on sex, because you’re talking about eviction notices while a soft hand is squeezing the base of your cock, thumb rubbing the tip as pre drips out, and you’re choosing dialogue options that might save or damn your neighbors. It’s horny, yes, but weirdly heavy too. Then again, nothing is really fair when your orgasm is basically a vote.