It’s messy in the best way. You’re some kind of half-drunk alchemist in a vampire’s den, tossing glowing ingredients into a cauldron that looks suspiciously alive, waiting to see if it spits out gold, slime, or a moaning succubus with tits like forbidden fruit. The game doesn’t explain much, just lets you mix weird shit - holy water, demon ichor, maybe a drop of your own sweat - and then bam, the screen flashes and suddenly you’re staring at a futa nun grinding against a bound werewolf priest. It’s ridiculous, but you can’t stop clicking. The logic makes no sense and that’s kind of the point. Sometimes you get a soft scene, a slow kiss between a vampire girl and her human pet. Other times, tentacles, everywhere, like the game’s trying to outdo itself in how far it’ll go before you blush or laugh.

There’s something about the tone - half gothic, half horny fever dream - that makes it feel like the devs were just daring each other to see what the next transmutation would unlock. The art shifts between elegant and unhinged; one moment you’re admiring the lighting on a pale thigh, next you’re staring at a corrupted angel with too many wings and not enough shame. The alchemy system feels more like foreplay than crafting. You think you’re mixing for power, but really you’re just chasing the next perverse reveal. I tried to keep track of the endings but gave up after the third one involved a talking dildo that might’ve been sentient.

The weirdest part? It’s kind of beautiful. Between the absurd fetishes and over-the-top transformations, there’s this pulse of dark humor and lust that keeps it alive. It’s not about winning or finishing - it’s about curiosity, that itch that says “what if I mix blood and holy oil again?” Do it. The game rewards the reckless.

Power, tits and dragons, in that order. Whores of Thrones takes the whole Seven Kingdoms mess and asks a very simple question: what if everyone stopped pretending they have honor and just started fucking for it instead. You’re dropped into this twisted court drama where every “deal” is half politics, half who is on their knees, and it leans hard into that. One scene you’re whispering dirty orders in a candlelit sept, next scene you’re watching a proud knight get milked by a monster he tried to stab. The story does that slow corruption thing: characters start with some fake moral line, then a bit of blackmail here, a “do this or I ruin your house” there, and suddenly they are naked in public, on their knees, kissing boots, begging for more. It doesn’t rush it, which I kinda loved and also kinda hated when I wanted to just go straight to hardcore. Sometimes you’ll pick a choice and think “ok soft scene now” and the game responds with anal, a collar, and a smug priest watching. Not complaining, just surprised. Often.

Fan service is insane. Sansa, Arya, Daenerys, Cersei, all twisted versions of themselves, each pushed into their own flavor of kink. There is this one path where your male character gets to break the noble “ice princess” step by step, starting with just making her show her feet, then kissing them, then using them on your cock like it’s nothing, until she goes from disgusted to needy. Long scene, very slow, and honestly the footjob animation and expressions are way better than they should be for a porn parody. Then you flip to another route and you’re playing a girl instead, suddenly on the other side of the leash, teasing another woman, riding her face and using toys on her while you promise to protect her family if she just obeys. Lesbian stuff hits different here, because they make it half affection, half “I own you now”. You can feel the writers grinning when they script a holy woman forced into exhibitionism in front of her own followers, or when a dragon queen ends up bent over a balcony, pretending she cares about the city while you’re just pounding her and talking about who she has to marry next. There’s vanilla pussy grinding right next to anal punishment, incest whispers in the background mixed with religious guilt, some brutal female domination scenes, gay side paths that go from awkward to “oh shit this is rough” in two clicks. It goes from funny parody to “damn, that’s filthy” really fast. And yeah, you can play it on your phone, which is a blessing until you realize you just opened a scene with a chained noble girl licking a boot and a dildo in the middle of your train ride, and now you can’t look anyone in the eye.

You wake up as this pale girl in a filthy underground “medical” room, wearing almost nothing, with tubes in your arm and some creep’s blood bags hanging around. The first thing that hits harder than the jump scare is the camera slowly zooming on your face when you realize the blood smells good. Not “hospital good”. Dick‑hardening good. Pussy‑throbbing good. It’s not shy about it. The game just locks you there for a while and lets you stare at that one dripping bag, and I swear that scene lasts too long, but in a nice sick way. That’s when it clicks: alright, I’m a vampire, I’m starving, and every person I see is either a snack or a fucktoy or both. After that, it just throws you in this big modern city where all the lights look too bright and every human heartbeat sounds like porn BGM. They pretend it’s a normal “arrive in the city, get clothes, find job, meet people” start, but under that it’s basically a slow horror build where you keep wondering if you are about to suck someone off or tear their throat out. Sometimes both. The story keeps dropping small weird details like people scared of ancient myths, news about mutilated bodies, a girl with almost yellow eyes who stares at you a bit too long on the subway. You keep thinking “ok this will explode later” and then it… doesn’t. At least not yet. That’s kind of hot too, like edging with plot.

Sex scenes don’t rain from the sky right away, and I actually liked that, which is funny because I also hated it when I was horny and clicking through dialogue like a degenerate who has three other tabs open with Pornhub, xHamster and Discord. When they finally let Kyra get off, it goes from zero to “I’m fingering myself in a stranger’s bathroom while trying not to bite through my own lip” really fast. There’s one masturbation scene in a crappy rental apartment, blinds half broken, city noises outside, where she’s trying to stay quiet because her new roommate is on the couch. The camera spends a ridiculous amount of time on her thighs tensing, not even on the pussy. I kept thinking “move down, move down” and at the same time I was kinda happy it didn’t. Like, the tease is better than the shot sometimes. Then you get group situations later where things stop being gentle. There’s this club scene, shitty techno, neon everywhere, and you end up in a back room with too many hands on your body, mouths on your neck, someone’s cock rubbing your inner thigh while another girl is kissing your jaw. You can either lean into the “I’m the hungry monster, use them” vibe, or just drown under them, and both paths feel dirty in different ways. The oral stuff is nice and messy, spit and blood mixing, and the game doesn’t flinch from graphic violence when you finally stop holding back and rip someone open like a meat toy. The weirdest, most memorable bit for me was when you wake up after a kill, covered in dried blood, and you realize you came while doing it. They don’t overexplain it. No long monologue. Just her staring at her hands, shaking, then getting horny again when she smells herself. It’s fucked. It’s kind of romantic too, in a twisted way. And no, I’m not going to talk about that alley scene with the monster girl, the one where you’re not sure if you’re dominating or being milked. That thing is stuck in my head for all the wrong reasons and I’ll probably still think about it in a week while pretending I opened Chrome for “emails”.

FSS Lamashtu feels like somebody mashed up a cold war naval thriller with a filthy space brothel and then forgot which part was supposed to be serious. You’re the freshly minted captain of this “experimental cruiser” that is absolutely not built for exploration, unless you count exploring how many holes your crew can take in a single patrol. Officially it’s the proud weapon of the Alliance, last hope in a long-ass war. Unofficially it’s your floating fuck-lab, staffed with officers who look like they came out of a horny AI art generator after you typed “war crime but sexy” too many times. The ship layout screen is almost a character by itself: bridge, medbay, cargo, those little tucked-away compartments you quickly learn are perfect for “private disciplinary sessions.” You jump between menus pretending to care about fleet orders, but the only thing you actually remember is which corridor you cornered that technician in when she kept “accidentally” brushing her giant tits against you.

The story likes to pretend it’s about geopolitics and rebellion, and sometimes it even tricks you. You’ll get this long briefing about the Neo-Terran strategic line, convoy raids, morale of the Alliance, all that stuff. Then two clicks later, you’re watching a proud enemy pilot on her knees, mascara running, mouth full of cum while she tries to spit out her rank and serial number. The tone whiplash is almost funny. There’s a certain charm in how the game refuses to pick a lane: you capture prisoners, you break them in slowly or just slam straight into collar-and-chain slavery, you’re supposed to feel the “moral weight” of it, but the next scene has them begging for anal like they read the script ahead of time. The AI CG does that exaggerated wetness thing, where every hole looks like you dumped a bucket of lube on it, and every creampie is this ridiculous white flood that should qualify as a bio-weapon. Sometimes the faces twist into that extreme, over-the-top ahegao that doesn’t even look human anymore, more like a melted idol poster, and it somehow fits this world where war propaganda and porn have fused into one genre.

What sticks in my mind most is how physical the ship starts to feel. You’re not just choosing sex options, you’re shaping routines. That science officer who starts with stiff posture and carefully zipped uniform? A few “private evaluations” in your quarters, and suddenly she’s walking around with visible bite marks on her neck, trying not to react when you casually grope her in front of others. There’s a scene in the hangar where two captured enemy girls are supposed to be processed for interrogation, and you can decide if that means basic questions or “group demonstration of Alliance hospitality.” The way their bodies are posed, covered in semen from multiple angles, has that bukkake ritual vibe, everyone participating because the war needs “unity.” You get toy usage too, not just as accessories but as tools of control: a vibrator left inside during a formal strategy meeting, the slow dawning horror on your new slave’s face when she realizes the remote is in your pocket while admirals talk about casualties. The game never really resolves whether you’re a genius commander or just a sex-obsessed tyrant who got lucky with experimental hardware. At some point there’s a tender-ish lesbian moment tucked awkwardly between brutal scenes, two crew girls comforting each other after a mission, fingers exploring, tongues slow and hesitant, and for once you’re not in the frame at all. It feels almost like the game forgot its own premise for a second, then remembers, throws you back into forced deepthroat in a dark interrogation room, and moves on like nothing happened.