You wake up in this game as a doctor who literally can’t move, stuck in bed with your broken body, pain meds, and way too much free time. Your wife and your daughter are the ones going out into the world instead of you: they fly off to some dusty, poor coastal village in Africa, “humanitarian mission” and all that, while you stare at your phone and laptop. At first it feels kind of noble: they send you sweet photos, your wife in that tight blouse under the white coat, your daughter in shorts that are definitely not regulation length, smiling with local kids, palm trees in the back, bad internet connection and all. Then the messages change tone. She forgets to answer. Your daughter sends one picture that looks a bit too intimate with one of the guys from the village, and your brain starts eating itself. And that’s basically where the game leans in and says: alright, now let’s fuck your head completely.

It plays like a visual novel, yeah, but the important part is how much it loves to tease you. You pick a text reply and you feel like a creep, or like a caring husband, or like a jealous psycho, depending on how honest you are with yourself. You can be supportive, like “I’m proud of you, love, keep helping people”, while your eyes stay glued to a photo where some tall, dark-skinned dude stands way too close behind her. Or you go the other route: “Who is that guy? Why is he touching you?” and she answers something calm and reasonable, and somehow that hurts more. The story splits like crazy based on this stuff. One path keeps things relatively “pure” for a while, another one throws you face first into cheating, masturbation scenes, and those slow-burn corruption moments where your wife starts describing how “open-minded” the locals are about sex. There’s this late-night chat where she tells you about a woman in the village who uses improvised toys and then casually slips in that she tried it too because “it would be medically irresponsible not to understand,” and the game shows it in full detail. That scene is nasty, but in a good way.

The AI-generated images are properly filthy when they want to be. Sometimes they look almost like real photos, sometimes a hand looks a bit weird, but honestly you stop caring when you’re staring at your wife bent over in a cramped shower stall, water on her skin, some guy’s shadow behind the curtain. Or when your daughter sends you a “joke” pic of herself topless from the back, mirror catching way more than she probably intended. The game loves these half-innocent, half-fucked-up moments where you can choose if you are the decent father who pretends not to notice, or the guy who zooms in, saves the pic, and then later jerks off to it in the dark while she’s out there in a hut with no electricity. The masturbation scenes of the MC are actually some of the best-written parts, which sounds dumb, but it fits: he’s stuck, horny, powerless, and the only thing he can really do is spy on his own family and jerk off with way too much guilt. At one point, after a fight, you can decide to blackmail your own wife with her nudes that you secretly recorded from a video call, just to wrestle back some control. It’s disgusting. I did it on my second run and hated myself. Then did it again with different choices to see how far she goes with the big muscular guy from the clinic, and that route turned into full cuckold territory, interracial gangbang vibes, anal, exhibitionism in the village under the moon, your wife almost parading herself in front of people who pretend it’s just “humans being free”. There’s a scene where she’s lying on her back on this rough table, legs open, some local dude fucking her raw while she’s still technically talking to you on a call, moaning into the cheap headset, half of her words for you, half for him, and you can either encourage her or break down. It’s messy, it’s really not subtle, and that’s kind of why it works. The game constantly asks: are you husband, father, doctor, victim, or pervert? And the problem is, it lets you be all of that at once.

Starship discipline is completely fucked here, in the funniest, dirtiest way possible. You get handed the captain’s chair on the Cerritos, but it feels more like they dumped you in a floating frat house filled with horny degenerates in Starfleet colors. Everyone is used to Admiral Freeman looking the other way, so when you start trying to clean things up, the crew basically tells you to suck it. Half the time you’re walking down a corridor and some ensign has their uniform half open, covered in cum, trying to hide a hard-on or wiping drool off their lips after “checking the sonic shower.” The ship looks like Star Trek, but the mood is more like a super trashy porn parody where nobody remembered the part about “professional behavior.” And you are absolutely encouraged to abuse that.

The center of the chaos is Beckett Mariner, of course. She knows you can’t just throw the admiral’s daughter out an airlock, so she tests every limit she can. One moment she’s lounging in your chair with her boots on the console, tits almost spilling out of her uniform jacket, fake-innocent face and those stupid ahegao eyes when you finally snap and drag her into the ready room. The game really likes that shift from “smartass brat” to “corrupted little cumtoy,” especially when you start using blackmail. You catch her in compromising spots, collect dirty data, and then slowly push things from “get on your knees and swallow” to “bend over the tactical console, I want to see just how tight that ass is.” She resists in that playful way at first, talks back, but the art leans heavy into humiliation: tears in the corners of her eyes, tongue out, mascara a mess, expression halfway between hating you and begging you to creampie her again. The AI-style CG is weirdly perfect for this kind of parody, everything slightly exaggerated, breasts too big for regulation uniforms, cumshots overdramatic, but it fits the whole “cheap bootleg holodeck program” vibe. And it is animated, so you really sit there watching her get filled, milk leaking, mouth drooling, your choices affecting if she ends up more broken-in, covered in bukkake like a used toy, or still pretending she’s in control while she rides you and moans your rank.

What caught me off guard is how the game doesn’t just stop at “straight captain dominates bratty officer.” Lower deck kids and random crew open up way dirtier routes. You walk into the cargo bay and spot two male ensigns “wrestling,” cocks out, one already dripping. That can spiral into you forcing them to service you as punishment, lining them up and choosing who takes you in the ass, who licks your balls clean, who drinks the load. There is gay stuff that doesn’t feel like an afterthought, more like the ship is just completely horny and nobody cares about orientation anymore. Then there is the whole trap and futa angle, uniforms hiding surprise dicks, big tits paired with a throbbing cock that strains the Starfleet fabric. One minute you think you’re punishing a cute, shy communications officer, next moment she drops her pants and you’re staring at a hard shaft and a wet slit both, and the game just goes “yeah, use all of it.” You can force them to suck you, fuck them until their own cum sprays on the control panel, or take it yourself if you lean into being a greedy captain who wants every hole filled. There are scenes where you make an officer pump milk out of her huge tits right onto the floor while everyone watches, or you order a line of crew to kneel and finish them off one by one, covering faces and mouths until they look like someone set a bukkake filter over a still from Lower Decks. Then there are cheating bits, too: married officers getting reamed in your quarters, whispering that their partner doesn’t touch them like this, while you record everything for later blackmail. It’s unapologetically trashy, sometimes mean, and occasionally so over the top you just start laughing, but it keeps that Star Trek parody flavor through all the corruption, like a filthy holodeck program somebody forgot to lock with a command code.

The heat sits on that tiny apartment like a wet towel you can’t shake off. It sticks to skin, to clothes, to Rei’s thin tank top when she bends over the sink, pretending she doesn’t feel your eyes on her ass. She’s supposed to be “aunt,” or “family friend,” or whatever label makes it less fucked up that every time she passes in the hallway your cock twitches. She moves slow, tired housewife kind of slow, but every curve on her body screams she knows exactly what she’s doing. Soft big tits that fight against cheap fabric, hips that fill the doorway, that slightly sad smile of a woman who’s been lonely way too long and pretends she’s okay with it. Except she isn’t. Not really.

Then the old man shows up. Claims to be your grandfather. Smells like cigarettes and sweat and something rotten. Sets his suitcase down like he just decided this is his house now. You want to laugh, but Rei’s face drains of color and Sora’s eyes narrow like a cat that spots a mouse. She’s the daughter, sharp tongue and short shorts, always with a game console in hand, pretending she doesn’t notice how her mom starts flinching whenever the old bastard “accidentally” brushes against her. You watch from the crack in your door as he starts touching Rei longer than needed, his wrinkled fingers on her waist, on her ass, talking about “helping with stress.” At first she stiffens, then she forces a smile, then she starts making excuses to be alone with him. For “adult talk.” You know that tone. Corruption doesn’t happen in one big step; it happens cup of tea by cup of tea, “thank you” by “it’s fine, just this once.”

The fucked up part is how the game lets you poke at this situation, not like a hero, but like a horny parasite. You’re not stopping anything. You’re deciding how much you want to see. You can sneak to the bathroom door and hear Rei choking on something that is not a cough. The wet noise of forced oral turning into desperate, hungry sucking, where her gagging shifts into little muffled moans she would never admit are real. Or you stay “loyal” and still end up spying through keyholes while she rides that old bastard, her big ass bouncing on his lap, tears in her eyes but her pussy creaming around him like it belongs there. Sometimes she resists and then folds, sometimes she looks like she’s almost enjoying the rough grip on her hair, the way he talks to her like property. Sometimes you even get pulled in, not as savior but as another man claiming a piece of her, sliding into her raw and leaving your cum deep inside, while her womb already full of someone else’s seed. Interracial mix of bodies and age and power, all wrapped in that cramped apartment where walls are thin and secrets thinner.

Sora’s the little devil in the corner, seeing everything, pretending she doesn’t care. She catches you peeking once, smirks, and the next time she “borrows” the old man’s wallet she demands he plays along. Trading games is not about consoles anymore. She comes back to your room with flushed cheeks and messed hair, chewing on gum that wasn’t hers before, and throws a wrapped bill on your bed like a joke. She teases you, spreads her legs just a bit too far when she sits on your chair, talks about how “grandpa” is disgusting while her eyes sparkle with something way darker. If you push, she might open those legs more, might ask what you’d pay for a peek, or for a taste, or for the chance to paint her face white while her mom moans in the next room on someone else’s cock. This whole summer turns into a slow, sweaty spiral where ownership is just a word men use when they shove their dick somewhere and leave it dripping. Who gets Rei in the end, who marks her womb, who Sora decides to toy with, who really controls the house… that all comes down to the tiny choices you click while your hand is already around your shaft, trying to decide if you want to feel guilty or just enjoy watching everything good rot from inside.

Katya feels like that mom from every conservative suburb meme, the one with the tight bun and tighter rules, except here you actually get to watch that whole fake control thing fall apart in slow, horny motion. At the start she really believes in her own bullshit, all discipline and “proper values”, like she’s auditioning for some moral police show. House is clean, schedule is rigid, her body is basically locked behind years of repression and cheap underwear that screams “I don’t fuck, I fold laundry”. And then Emily starts poking holes in it. Not loud teenage rebellion, more like this smug, patient nudging. A little lie here. A half-truth there. “Oops, you caught me, guess you have to punish me.” You already know that “punish” won’t stay innocent for long, and the game absolutely milks that. It feels like watching a rope slowly tighten around Katya’s neck, except she keeps helping tie the knots herself.

What I liked is how it doesn’t jump straight to full-on degeneracy. First time Emily “accidentally” leaves something on her phone open and Katya sees it, the way her face changes, the shame and curiosity mixed, you kinda feel bad for her. Then two scenes later you’re watching her on the couch at night pretending to scroll Instagram while her hand drifts between her legs because her own daughter called her “cute when you’re angry” and you’re like… yeah ok this is fucked and hot. The corruption is very home flavored. Kitchen table tension, hallway “oops I walked out of the shower without closing the door”, “help me with my bra, mom, it’s stuck”. A lot of groping that starts as “checking if you’re dressed decent” and then the hand just doesn’t move away fast enough. The spanking scenes hit nice too, because Katya wants them to be discipline and Emily treats them like foreplay. There’s this one bit with Emily bent over the bed, pretending to pout, her ass up, Katya breathing too heavy, and the game lets the camera sit there way too long. That’s where it got me. Also, the little moments of voyeurism, like Katya spying through a cracked door and then pretending she just “came to check the light”. She lies so badly you can feel the wetness through the screen.

The game calls itself a kinetic thing so yeah, you’re not doing big brain choices, you’re riding the slope. Sometimes that annoyed me, because there’s a scene with Emily using a toy on herself while talking about “how lonely mom must be” and I was screaming at the monitor wanting to push it further or pull back, but the story just drags Katya along on its own rhythm. But that’s also the charm. She’s not really in control, and neither are you. Once the blackmail really settles in, the tone flips hard. Emily plays the sweet daughter card, then snaps into full dom mode with this calm voice that made me clench. Sexual harassment scenes are rough in a good way, like those moments where she corners Katya in her own bedroom and just… touches her. Casual hand on tit, thumb brushing nipple through the bra while talking about grades, or sliding fingers along her ass “just checking your outfit”. And Katya tries to keep her mom tone but you see the crack every time. There’s cheating stuff sprinkled in, like Katya remembering her “proper” life while literally riding someone she absolutely should not be riding, and the game doesn’t pretend it’s romantic, it just leans into the filth. Anal, oral, that “I shouldn’t like this” masturbation shame, stripping scenes where clothes feel more like dignity than fabric. Also, the lesbian tension between them is so obvious it’s almost funny: mother trying not to stare at her own daughter’s tits, daughter knowing exactly what she’s doing, sitting too close, whispering too close, pushing her to the point where “stop” sounds like “please keep going”. I kinda wish they toned down one or two “mom cries then gets horny again” moments, but also, no, I don’t, because that emotional whiplash is exactly why this hits. Katya is broken in the best, worst way, and by the time she’s the one initiating the spanking or begging to be watched, you’re already way too deep to pretend this is about morals anymore.