Lance isn’t even pretending to be shy about it. The dude’s surrounded by these anthro girls who act like they’ve got no idea what they’re doing to him, but they know. You can tell from the way Rainbow Dash leans on the doorframe, wings twitching when she talks, like she’s daring him to look lower. The dorm feels weirdly alive - not in a haunted way, more like it breathes with every moan coming from the next room. I kinda thought it’d be more cartoonish, you know, but it’s got this soft, slow tension instead, like the game’s teasing you on purpose. Sometimes it’s too slow, then suddenly it throws you into something filthy and you forget to breathe. I hated that. I loved that.

The best part? Probably Fluttershy’s room. It’s cluttered, smells like honey, and the light hits her fur in a way that makes it almost uncomfortable to stare too long. There’s this one moment - she’s whispering something, half hiding behind her hair, and you can’t tell if she’s scared or pretending. The animation jitters a bit there, and somehow that makes it better, like the game’s shaking too. I wish her dialogue didn’t loop so much though, it kills the momentum, but maybe it’s meant to, who knows. You forget about the choices you’re supposed to make, you just click and watch.

Sometimes the humor lands flat, like Lance makes a joke that isn’t funny but you laugh anyway because it’s awkward and hot at the same time. The sound design’s messy - voices overlap, music fades wrong - but that imperfection fits. It feels like a dirty secret someone coded after midnight, not a polished thing for mass consumption. I kept expecting a moral, but it never comes. Just sweat, color, and that strange guilt you can’t quite name. It’s not even about sex, not really. Or maybe that’s me lying to myself again.

Jean’s had enough of Klee’s chaos, but this time the little pyro menace isn’t just lighting up barrels - she’s lighting up the whole damn city with scandal. The story kicks off like a prank gone wrong, or right, depending on how you feel about blackmail and dripping wet revenge. You sneak around Mondstadt, catching the prim and proper girls in their “off-duty” moments - Lisa’s moaning over her own experiments, Barbara pretending she’s still pure while her fingers say otherwise, Ayaka blushing so hard it’s like her whole body’s about to melt. The game doesn’t pretend to be classy; it’s messy, horny, and sometimes weirdly funny, like when Fischl starts narrating her own blowjob in third person. I swear I laughed and came at the same time, which is a rare combo.

What makes it work is how the corruption sneaks up on you. It starts playful - Klee teasing Jean with harmless tricks - but then things twist. Voyeurism turns into participation, participation into obsession. There’s this one scene with Yae Miko where she basically toys with the protagonist’s sanity, whispering filth like she’s casting a spell. And then Noelle shows up, trying to act all knightly while she’s literally polishing more than just armor. The transitions between scenes are quick, sometimes too quick, like the devs got distracted mid-edit, but somehow that janky pacing adds charm. It feels raw, like watching someone’s fever dream of Genshin girls losing their morals one by one.

The animations? Rough in spots, but when they hit, they *hit*. Hu Tao’s grin when she’s riding you - it’s unholy. Rosaria’s confession scene made me pause the game just to breathe. Even the quiet moments, like Sucrose trying to explain the “chemical reaction” of arousal while clearly soaked herself, have this strange sincerity. It’s not a polished fantasy; it’s a filthy sandbox where shame doesn’t exist. You don’t play it for art - you play it because you want to see what happens when innocence burns out completely.

Clara’s “Love Hotel” feels like the place your horny brain built when you were fifteen and your wallet was already imagining sugar daddies. It’s not some classy high-society escort fantasy. It’s cheap perfume, sticky elevator buttons, and girls who still check their phone between clients. You follow a teen girl getting sucked into Clara’s world, going from “I’m just looking for some extra cash” to happily spreading her legs for whatever rich pervert books the suite. The whole thing plays like a kinetic visual novel where you’re mostly there to watch her brain rewire itself around money, cock, and control, with Clara pulling strings and smiling like a sexy devil in a tight dress. The story doesn’t rush. First it’s teasing and striptease in those themed rooms, girls grinding slowly while the client watches like a creep through tinted glass, then the jobs start getting nastier: anal for an extra wad of bills, creampies that drip out while Clara counts the cash, toys shoved in to keep the girl “ready” for the next guy. You barely make a choice, you just sit there like a voyeur, and somehow that fits the whole hotel vibe perfectly.

One moment that stuck in my head had the main girl lying on silk sheets while an older woman, a full-on milf type with that rich cougar aura, just toys with her for a client hidden behind the curtain. She whispers to the teen how she’s nothing but a fucktoy now, fingers deep, thumb circling her clit, and the hotel’s camera quietly recording every twitch for “private archives.” The girl pretends to be shy at first, but the game doesn’t keep that illusion long. By the time Clara pairs her with a calm, serious dilf businessman, she’s already the one pushing his cock inside, asking if he wants to finish in her ass or her pussy because “Clara gives bonuses for messy endings.” There’s a fun little moment where two lesbians working the same floor sneak into an empty room between clients, toys buzzing, tongue on tongue, and you realize they’re half doing it for pleasure and half to warm up before the next paying guest. The corruption doesn’t feel cartoonish, more like a slow slide where you watch the girl go from flinching at her first blowjob to riding a stranger like it’s just a normal shift. Some scenes lean more romantic, weirdly enough, especially when a regular client starts bringing gifts and treating her like his personal escort, and the game kind of pretends there’s “love” in a place that operates like a brothel. It’s messy, horny, sometimes sweet, sometimes nasty, and it never apologizes for treating every girl in that hotel as both employee and property, legs open on demand while Clara counts the profits with that lazy, satisfied smile.

Rumors always sound stupid until you are the one they whisper about. This game throws you into one of those sticky school legends, the “there is a satanic cult behind the gym” kind of bullshit, except you actually trip over the damn book they are using. Not a cute grimoire with sparkles, more like something that looks like it smells of old cum and candle smoke. You crack it open for a laugh, and the first thing it gives you is the power to make the class virgin blush so hard she almost creams herself in the middle of an “examination” scene where the teacher leans too close, her tits brushing your arm, and you realize the book is not just edgy goth decor. It lets you push people, twist their lust, nudge their fears, and at first you just use it for small shit: making your best friend text you late at night with “I had this weird dream, why were you watching me in the shower?” while you are literally watching him through some voyeur spell on your phone, zooming in like it is some cursed Pornhub live cam. The game plays like a mix of visual novel and sandbox, you wander around school halls, club rooms, that empty classroom behind the science lab where the “mystery club” girl hides her monster girl hentai doujins, and every choice you poke in the text gets a horny consequence ten minutes later. Sometimes it is just teasing, a milf teacher accidentally pressing her big ass on your desk while bending over the board, sometimes it turns into full on corruption, like you mark a shy futa class rep with a little symbol and next time you see her she is in the bathroom stall, stroking a throbbing cock that looks too heavy for her thin legs, biting her lip and mumbling your name.

The story pretends to be about this “evil power” and responsibility, but half the time I forgot the cult plot and just chased who I could break or save or both. You can go playful, using the book to make girls horny at the worst moments, like forcing a strict nurse to lactate during a routine health check, milk stains spreading on her white top while she clenches her thighs, then suddenly she is grabbing your hand and shoving it under her skirt, muttering how this is “for science.” Or you lean into full NTR stuff, using blackmail photos and the book’s little curse tricks to push a sweet romance into pure cheating. There is one brutal route where your “best friend” tries to confess to his crush under the cherry tree and you quietly tweak her feelings so she accepts, then later you drag her into a storage room and she is on her knees around your cock, choking and crying because she knows she is his, but the spell makes betrayal feel like a delicious punishment. The game loves mixing that hurt with the horny: a loyal girlfriend getting pounded by a big black cock you summoned from some “monster” page, your corrupted class rep in a gangbang bukkake scene with faceless students dripping on her glasses, the principal on her knees in the occult club room giving a sloppy oral exam as if it is normal curriculum. There is futa, femdom, crossdressing sissification stuff where the book flips your own body, giving you a fat futa dick for one route, soft tits in another, forcing you into a skirt while a female domination demon spanks you until you are hard just from the pain. One day you are fingering a shy monster girl by the pool during summer vacation, her tail curling around your wrist as she begs for creampie, the next you are watching a furry club president hump your enchanted sex toy in the empty gym. It is messy, horny, a bit mean, and the book never really feels safe; every time you use it to make someone moan louder in a titfuck or a footjob scene, there is that tiny line of text hinting that maybe the book is also rewriting you, turning a “regular student” into something closer to the cult freaks you laughed at in the first place.