It’s strange how this DBZ parody feels both trashy and affectionate, kind of like when you find an old guilty‑pleasure track in your Spotify history and realize you still know every beat. The game throws Goten right into a web of temptation that probably shouldn't exist, but here it does, shimmering with that thin layer of nostalgia everyone secretly loves to roll around in. The art flirts between rough sketches and slick shading - like it can’t decide whether to be edgy or sentimental - and somehow that fits. Android 18 looks too good for words, moves even better, and then 21 shows up and basically warps every mood you had in the last minute. It’s fan service but with a heartbeat, or maybe with several, depending on whose scene you trigger.

I found myself weirdly caught by how the dialogue sounds half improvised, sometimes awkwardly human; sometimes like a dirty daydream that just spilled onto the screen. Bulma’s little gestures - like how her eyes flick away for a second before she says something you’re not ready for - hit more real than they should. The interactive bits don’t even bother hiding what they’re about, and it’s that transparency that makes them honestly hot. One time, the scene drifted into something so slow, so drawn out, I forgot to click until the moaning blended into background music from another tab. It fits though - this clumsy pacing, this idea that seduction in a parody title could have its own lazy rhythm. I could complain about the transitions lagging, but then again, that stutter kind of matched Goten’s fumbling, and now I can’t tell if it’s a glitch or a choice.

For anyone trying to rush it, you’ll ruin the best part: letting the conversations drag, catching the facial changes, not skipping with spacebar. Take it like a good track - feel every drop, every wrong beat, until you stop pretending it’s about nostalgia and admit it’s pure hunger worked into code. Don’t skip, just... let it breathe.

College looks normal on the surface: crappy dorm beds, group chats blowing up over nothing, professors who talk like podcasts on 0.75x speed. Under all that, this game quietly hands you a body that does not stay put. You start as this regular 18-year-old guy, horny and stressed and barely holding it together, and then your skin starts crawling in ways that aren’t just “I need to jerk off before lecture.” Limbs stretch when you panic, muscles twist into inhuman shapes, and your reflection occasionally smiles before you do. The story doesn’t treat it like some heroic anime glow-up either. It feels dirty, like your own body is hitting on you and you can’t tell it to stop. That’s the fun of it, though: you’re constantly one bad choice away from accidentally showing everyone that the cute freshman with the big cock can also casually grow tentacles out of his back.

What really hooks you is how the erotic stuff grows out of that corruption instead of being tacked on. One scene you’re trying to stay calm in a packed lecture hall while your power reacts to a random boner, and the next scene you’re in a bathroom stall, literally reshaping yourself just enough to jerk off without leaving obvious traces, only to lose control and end up painting the walls with thick, barely-human cum. And when the game starts playing with gender shift, it doesn’t pretend it’s some wholesome identity journey. You slide into a soft, curvy version of yourself with big tits and a fat ass because it feels good and because you realize how easy it is to make people stare. There’s a kind of wrong thrill in turning into a stacked girl to get closer to some dude who’d never look at you as a guy, then tempting him into a messy titjob or sloppy blowjob while your mind is still very much male, buried somewhere under the bouncing flesh and ruined mascara. The writing leans into that twisted mix of arousal and shame: you’re hard even when you don’t have a dick, dripping in all the wrong places, surrounded by people who think you’re just another thirsty coed while something inside you writhes like a monster in heat.

Then there are the actual monsters, the things that gave you this power in the first place. They don’t just show up for fights; they slither into the sex. Tentacles that push under your clothes when you’re trying to act normal on a date, thick coils sliding between your transformed thighs while you’re grinding on some unsuspecting classmate, that awful, amazing moment where you realize you can open yourself in ways no human body should and take every inch of it. Scenes stack up where you’re pinned to a dark alley wall, or bent over some forgotten rooftop edge, body shifting to accommodate impossible girth, every hole filled and overflowing until you’re basically covered in cum, breathing hard and half laughing because part of you likes being used like that. Sometimes you turn it around and use your powers to be the monster instead, growing extra hands for a rough handjob, reshaping your mouth for deeper oral, pushing into a wet, stretched pussy while your skin ripples and your partner doesn’t even notice at first. The horror part never totally leaves; even when you’re riding a dick or taking a monster cock, there’s this background hum that you’re one wrong pulse away from snapping into something no longer human. And yet you keep pushing, keep masturbating with a body that can grow new angles to touch, chasing stronger orgasms while you try to pretend you’re just a normal freshman and not a walking sex-horror glitch waiting to explode all over the world.

You start as the new star on campus, all eyes glued to you before you even make a shot. The gym smells like sweat and ambition, but that’s not what gets your pulse up. It’s the way she looks at you - your stepmother, or maybe just “mom” in name only - her curves wrapped tight in silk that doesn’t belong anywhere near family dinners. The game doesn’t waste time pretending it’s about basketball. It’s about temptation, power, and how quickly both can slip through your fingers when every woman around you wants to see how far you’ll go. One minute you’re practicing free throws, the next you’re pressed against the locker room wall, her breath hot on your neck while she whispers things that shouldn’t sound so good coming from her mouth.

The world here feels too real sometimes. Every touch has weight, every moan sounds like someone losing control for real. Even the smaller moments - like catching your roommate’s girlfriend watching you change, or the dean’s wife brushing her thigh against yours during a meeting - carry this slow, electric tension that builds until it breaks. And when it breaks, it’s messy. Hands gripping, tongues exploring, skin slick with sweat. You’ll find yourself caught between guilt and hunger more than once, especially when the story starts twisting into places you didn’t expect: voyeurism that turns mutual, cheating that doesn’t feel wrong anymore, and those scenes where everyone ends up tangled together, gasping, laughing, covered in each other.

It’s not shy about what it is. The animation lingers too long on trembling lips, on the soft give of flesh, on the little noises people make when they forget they’re being watched. Sometimes it’s tender, sometimes filthy, sometimes both in the same second. You’ll think you’re in control, choosing who to seduce, but the game keeps pulling you deeper, making you question whether you’re chasing love, lust, or just the thrill of being wanted by everyone at once.

Guy wakes up with a shit childhood behind him and suddenly everyone expects him to be normal, go to school, run a cafe and not stare at every pair of tits that walks past the counter. That’s the basic mood. You’re this dude trying to turn a tiny, half-broken cafe into something real, while your last year of school keeps tripping you up. And every girl that drifts into your orbit somehow ends up tangled in this weird mix of “aww that’s cute” and “why am I hard again, she just asked for coffee.” It starts soft: shy schoolgirl staying late to “help you close,” the older teacher pretending she’s only here to grade your project, the milf landlord who leans just a bit too far over the table when she’s talking about rent. It feels like a normal dating sim for a bit. Flirty texts, small talks, wiping tables, brushing against hips “by accident,” sucking glances at cleavage when they think you’re busy with the espresso machine. Then the game decides that if you’re going to be the man of this place, you’re going to really be the man.

Once the switch flips, it leans into wholesome but very clear male domination. Not angry, not cruel, more like “you’re mine now, isn’t that what you wanted?” and all the girls kinda melt into it. One moment you’re correcting a girl’s homework, next she’s on her knees between your legs in the back room, mouth full of cock, trying not to choke while students walk by outside the door. You’re teaching them “discipline” in your own way: spanking a bratty classmate bent over a cafe chair after closing, slow and deliberate hits on her ass until she stops talking back and just whimpers into the cushion. There’s this cute thing where a virgin girl keeps pretending she’s fine with just teasing, sitting on your lap, grinding on you through your pants while she serves customers, but her panties get soaked and eventually you just drag her into the storage room and fuck her properly, condom forgotten, her first time ending with you buried deep and creampie dripping down her thighs while she clings to your shirt and calls you sir. It tries really hard to be romantic but then you’re groping her boobs in the walk-in fridge with the milk cartons.

What works a lot better than I expected is how the cafe becomes this base of operations for your whole harem. At first it’s one-on-one scenes, but once they all start knowing about each other it shifts into this messy, horny family energy. Girls teasing each other behind the counter, one of them flashing her big tits from under the apron because she lost a bet, another one kneeling to give you a quick handjob under the table while you pretend to check the accounts on your phone. Group scenes escalate fast: you’ve got two girls on their knees sharing your cock, taking turns swallowing, spit strings everywhere, while a third straddles your face on a cafe sofa. Somebody always has a big ass bouncing on you, somebody else is spreading herself on the counter like she’s today’s special, and half the fun is that they’re all kind of exhibitionists at heart. Curtains not fully closed, door not really locked, a student walking past the windows while you’re pumping into a girl from behind, her tits pressed to the glass, fogging it up. The “slave” angle is there, but it feels more like they’re eager pets than broken toys. They wear collars under their school uniforms, hide marks from your spanking under long skirts, call you master with this embarrassing blush that makes it even hotter. There are a few weird tiny annoyances, like how one girl’s expression in a serious BDSM scene looks more like she smelled something bad than like she’s turned on, and once a looping animation just kept going a bit too long and killed the mood, but then another scene hits where you’ve got your whole harem in the closed cafe at night, every chair pushed aside, girls on tables and floor, moaning, cum on lips and bellies, and yeah, you kinda forget you were supposed to care about anything else.