I opened Trapfield Hotel expecting cheap jokes, like the kind plastered over the usual porn-jam games that think one good tit jiggle equals writing. But this thing, weirdly, has personality - it doesn’t *care* if you laugh, moan, cringe, or all three. The first scene drops you right into the lobby, naked ego and literal everything else hanging out, and a boss who’s so tall and cocky she might as well have wings. She flirts in that half-mocking way that makes you forget it’s just text on a screen. It’s hot, but not sterile-hot. Like it’s someone smirking behind the monitor, teasing you, waiting for you to mess up your dialogue choice so she can make you regret it with a slap or a forced smile or - well, you can imagine.

Half the time I was laughing though. There’s this bit where you’re delivering towels, and the towel cart bumps into a femboy maid whose breasts bounce like they’re trying to escape gravity. He apologizes three times, blushes, and still finds a way to drag you into the staff room for “training.” The game just *leans* into that ridiculous energy, and somehow it works. It’s obscene and dumb and kind of brilliant. It’s like the dev watched a hundred hentai parodies and then decided to make one that actually feels alive, with just enough self-awareness that it never becomes boring.

Not everything hits - sometimes the dialogue repeats itself, and one room scene had lighting that looked like a fever dream, but maybe that’s on purpose; it kinda fits the corruption tone, like the hotel itself is drunk. The whole thing swings between dominance and submission faster than I can decide who’s winning. I caught myself rooting for the protagonist, then laughing when the milf receptionist literally turned him into her pet for forgetting to clock in. It’s chaotic, wet, over-the-top, and somehow honest, like it knows exactly what kind of filth it’s serving and invites you to enjoy how messy that is. Nothing polished, nothing polite, just raw kink with a wink.

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.

Raven wakes up in Lustein with the kind of hangover you get from reality itself, not from alcohol. She knows three things: her name, that she’s a witch, and that everyone around her is way too horny for a Tuesday that doesn’t even exist. The town looks like some fantasy RPG town you half remember from an old JRPG, but somebody replaced half the NPC dialogues with porn hub comments and cult propaganda. On one corner there’s a prim girl in a hood preaching purity, on the next there’s a slime girl casually jerking off a tentacle beast in an alley, and both scenes feel normal after about ten minutes. The game doesn’t even apologize for it. You walk Raven around, poke your nose into “investigations,” and every lead about the mysterious Order somehow slides into another sex scene, another shady deal, another monster with way too much cock for its own skeleton.

What I liked is that Raven isn’t written like some clueless virgin protagonist who “accidentally” falls on dick every five steps. At first she’s confused, guarded, trying to treat every encounter like a real case file. You’re choosing dialogue options, digging for clues, following rumors about disappearances and strange symbols, but half the clue-givers are masturbating behind curtains or peeping through keyholes when you arrive. The voyeur stuff sneaks up on you: you accept a “stakeout quest,” thinking you’ll watch a corrupt priest meet his contact, and suddenly you’re crouched behind a crate, watching him get absolutely flooded by his own acolytes in a holy-bukkake ritual that looks like a blasphemous version of a Klimt painting. You can stay hidden, stroke yourself with Raven’s gloved hand while the scene unfolds, or reveal yourself and twist the ritual to your own kind of magic. The game pretends it is about an investigation, but it is actually about how far you push her corruption, how much you let Lustein leak into her soul and underwear. There’s turn based combat, sure, but it’s the kind of combat that laughs at normal balance. You’re casting spells that bind tentacles, seduce bosses, or literally masturbate mid-battle to charge a corruption bar that works like mana and moral decay at the same time. An early battle with a raven-headed knight is still stuck in my head: the fight starts like normal, you exploit his weak point, suddenly his armor snaps away and what’s under it could never fit in that plate mail. You can finish him “properly” with fire and hexes, or stun him using a seduction stance that turns the screen into a slow striptease, then ride him until he swears fealty with a mouth full of your magic. There is this absurd tension between “I am saving this world” and “I am absolutely getting railed by it.”

The outfits are not just costumes; they feel like alternate timelines for Raven. You change from a modest witch dress into a shredded leather top and thigh-high boots, and the game quietly adjusts how people react. That prim Order nun earlier suddenly stops seeing you as possible recruit and starts looking at you like potential prey, cornering you later in a side chapel and suggesting “purification” that involves ropes, candles, and her tongue taking a pilgrimage between your legs. Another time I put Raven into a delicate, almost scholarly robe, and went to a monster-infested forest. Bad idea. The tentacle plants there literally respond differently, coiling around her as if they’ve found a rare flower and need to pollinate it from every angle. You’re given choices, but a lot of them feel like you’re only choosing how filthy things get, not if. One quest has you investigating rumors about a masked witch corrupting villagers. Plot twist: that witch is basically you from the future if you dive too far into the hentai logic of Lustein. Fighting her in turn-based battle is weirdly arousing and tragic: magic circles, mirrored incantations, her taunting you with what you will become, then pinning you down with living chains while she pours her “knowledge” into your mouth. The best part is I hated some tiny UI things, like how the log sometimes hides a line you want to reread during a particularly heavy lesbian ritual, and I will complain about this in my head forever, but at the same time, when Raven kneels in a ruined library, covered in monster cum, reading sigils from a soaked grimoire while fingering herself to unlock a new spell, I forget everything else. It feels like those old fantasy paperbacks where the margins are full of notes from some horny reader before you, except now you’re the one writing them on Raven’s skin.

Everything looks kind of cheap at first glance, and that’s honestly part of the charm here. You’re this dude who thinks he’s just getting a boring new life, but instead you’re stuck in a tiny place with Ember, your stepsis who talks like she wants to kill you and fuck you at the same time. She’s got that “I’m annoyed at you” face while walking around in shorts that absolutely do not fit the idea of a healthy sibling relationship. The banter hits fast. One minute she’s calling you useless, next minute she’s leaning over you to grab a mug, tits pressing into your shoulder like it’s nothing, and the camera lingers just a bit too long. The AI art makes her expressions kind of uncanny if you stare too hard, like there’s something crawling under her skin, but that actually fits. She looks a little too perfect, like a horny goddess generated by a machine that has seen too much porn and not enough real people. I like it. I hate it. It works.

Then you go to your new job at the model agency, and everything goes from “awkward home porn setup” to “okay, which of these women is going to ruin my soul first.” You’re hired as some systems engineer, but nobody actually cares about your code. Half the time you’re stuck in the office with a busty manager bending over your desk, the other half you’re talking to models with asses so round they look like someone just pulled them out of an image generator with the sliders broken. There’s this one moment early on where you’re checking security footage for clues about the missing model, Mara, and instead of focusing on, you know, the crime, you pause the video because she’s walking past the camera and her tits bounce in this weird but hypnotic way. Like gravity got confused. The scene keeps going, with you pretending to analyze data while the dialogue is basically flirting with doom. It’s very “yeah, I’m trying to solve a mystery, but also I’m extremely hard right now.” By the way, the font on one of the menus is ugly as shit and nobody will care except me, and it annoyed me so much I kept noticing it in every choice popup.

The mystery part sneaks in under the dirty jokes. You’re laughing at Ember calling you a perv, then later you look at a picture of Mara and something is just off in the lighting, like the AI forgot how eyes should reflect light, and suddenly the scene feels cursed. There’s a bit where you’re alone in the office at night, scrolling through model portfolios, and it hits that exact weird mix: half boner, half dread. You open Mara’s profile and it’s all perfectly shaped milf types and big-ass centerfold shots, but then one close-up looks different, wrong, like her smile is stretched by a hand you can’t see. It reminded me of those creepy hentai edits where a normal face suddenly goes full ahegao except here it never fully goes there, it just hovers at the edge. The humor never really stops either; somebody makes a dumb pun while you’re poking around what might be evidence of a crime. It shouldn’t be funny, but it is, and that broken tone actually keeps it interesting. The game basically feels like an eldritch dating sim written by someone who jacks off to big tits and also reads horror threads at 4chan at the same time. Honestly, the sex vibes are more constant than the horror, yet that quiet feeling that something is watching from behind the pretty AI curves never goes away.