You know that guy in the office who flirts too much, stares at tits a little too long, somehow still keeps his job because he knows where all the bodies are buried? In this game, that guy is you, and HR already gave up. You torched your old career by fucking around with the boss’s daughter and teasing half the female staff until the whole place looked like a hentai forum thread you shouldn’t scroll at work. The parent company can’t fire you without risking all their dirty secrets getting leaked, so they ship you off to a new branch and lock you into “100% remote work” like that’s going to stop your dick from ruining lives. It starts so harmless too: video calls with your new coworkers, polite emails, Slack messages that should be boring… but the corruption creeps in fast. A harmless compliment about a tight skirt. A “camera accidentally still on” moment after a shower. A late-night report where she’s wearing a blouse that really doesn’t want to stay buttoned. You’re supposed to behave. You absolutely don’t.

The fun part is how the game lets you poke at their limits. The girls all start out like normal coworkers, the kind you’d follow on Instagram and pretend you’re not zooming in on their pics. There’s the one who pretends to be a professional but is clearly thirsty for attention every time she leans too close to the webcam, boobs practically begging for an HR ticket. The boss’s daughter pops up again, and this time she’s pretending she’s “more mature now”, while stretching on camera so her big tits almost fall out of her top. Half the time you’re reading emails, the other half you’re choosing if you play it nice, act like a creep, or slowly corrupt them so they’re the ones asking you to stay in the call a little longer. There’s voyeur stuff too, but not in a subtle way. Sometimes the game throws you into these “remote access” scenes where suddenly you’re watching her in her bedroom, phone propped at a weird angle, ass filling half the screen while she thinks nobody is watching. You know that slightly messy AI generated look where the ass is too perfect and the boobs look like they cost half a salary? Yeah, that. It’s not “art”, but it hits that dirty brain spot.

What I liked is how your choices can fuck up everything without a big pop-up yelling at you. You go too hard too fast with one girl, she pulls away, suddenly your video meetings are all cold and formal, and the route quietly locks itself into the “you pushed it, now deal with it” ending. Another time, you play innocent for a while, pretending you care about her workload, and she starts teasing you herself, legs up on the desk during a call, panties clearly visible, pretending she doesn’t notice. Sometimes the endings are weirdly soft, sometimes they’re just “ok you fucked her, credits”, and sometimes the boss shows up and things get way more complicated and way more hot than they should be for an office game. Not everything looks perfect, some AI scenes have that slightly off vibe where a hand is like “what is that finger doing”, but honestly it kind of fits the dirty, not-quite-legal style of the whole story. You’re not here for gallery-level art, you’re here to be a corrupt bastard with a work laptop and too much access to horny coworkers, and the game really leans into that, then pretends it’s about “productivity”.

You play as this awkward dude, Sam, trying to look professional in an office where everyone pretends to be normal adults, while your new boss is basically the final boss of horny power games. Veronica Blackwell walks on screen in that tight office outfit and the whole vibe of the game changes. You can literally feel your mouse-hand getting more obedient every time she raises an eyebrow. It starts super tame: file this, fix that report, stay late for “just a bit more work”. Nothing wild. Then she starts getting handsy with your dignity instead of your body, which is way more fun. She locks you into this slow pacing, no skipping, no choices, just you watching Sam bend, inch by inch. And yeah, it is a kinetic novel, so forget about “I’ll just pick the dominant route”, there is none. You are the furniture. Accept it. At some point you catch yourself leaning closer to the screen when she mentions your “performance evaluation” and that says a lot about you and a bit about the writing.

What makes it hotter than it has any right to be is how casual she is about humiliating you. She talks about work metrics and career opportunities while making you kneel under her desk like it is the most reasonable thing in the world. There is a scene where she makes you clean her high heels with your tongue after a long day in the office and she does not even drop the corporate tone. She is checking emails on her phone while you are there on the carpet, licking the dirt off her soles, and she is commenting on your “attention to detail” like it is part of your internship report. The game really leans into feet and power stuff. Heels, stockings, her crossing her legs right in your face, you begging to touch or kiss her shoes and she just smirks and tosses you a command that feels more like a leash. And then, when you think it is “just” foot worship and soft humiliation, she pulls out that small metal cage for you. No warning, no drum roll, just a line like “I think you need help focusing at work” and next thing you know, Sam is locked up, hard but not allowed to be hard, if that makes sense. The writing milks that frustration on purpose. Every time she teases you after that, you can almost feel the cage squeezing. There is something messed up but very honest about that.

Art side is clean enough to do the job, nothing crazy, but the expressions matter a lot. Her smirk when you hesitate, the slight boredom when you try to resist, the way she looks down at you from the office chair like you are both a pet and a project. They reuse some backgrounds too much, but somehow that makes it feel more like an actual office grind. Same desk, same room, worse and worse situations. I was running this in Chrome with uBlock turned off for once, just sitting there on my second monitor like some degenerate pretending to answer Slack messages while Veronica is telling Sam he is not allowed to touch himself without written permission. The pacing is slow, yeah, sometimes painfully slow, but that actually fits the chastity angle too well. It is annoying and hot and annoying again. No big branching, no epic system, just a straight line falling deeper under this woman’s heel. And if that idea alone already gives you that weird tight feeling in your chest and lower, this thing is going to fry your brain in a pretty fun way.

You load it up in a bored mood, thinking it will be just another horny office thing, and then suddenly you are sitting in this glossy fashion magazine, surrounded by women who all look like they walked out from some Instagram explore tab that you pretend not to check. HauteBeat hums in the background, that soft loop of office AC, a distant printer, heels clicking across the tiles like a metronome for your dirty thoughts. The protagonist is this fresh graduate, all awkward, shy, still a virgin, and the game really leans into that. He stammers when the editor-in-chief leans over his shoulder, her blouse just a little too open, her perfume basically choking him. The scene where he is alone with the secretary in a tiny meeting room, with the glass walls and everyone outside pretending not to look, that one hit me. She lowers her voice, asks if he understands what “loyalty” means in this office, and every click through the dialogue feels like you’re holding your breath, waiting for the moment her hand actually lands on his thigh. There is no rush, but also no mercy. The pacing is like that slow elevator ride where you already know you’re going to do something filthy when the doors open.

First choice that really made me stop was when you decide if he keeps his “good boy” energy, or starts testing his new power over these women who pretend they’re in charge. One path he plays the sweet intern, trying not to stare at his boss’s big ass every time she bends over a layout. The other path, he starts using what he learns about them, their little secrets, and the mood shifts from nervous to predatory. There is this one route with the married coworker from accounting, the one who always has her phone face down on the desk. She invites him to “help” with some files after hours. Music drops out, it is just the wet sound of her lips when she finally slides under the desk and starts sucking his cock right there, while the screen shows the office lights reflecting on her lipstick-smeared mouth. Her wedding ring catching the glow every time her hand strokes him is such a petty detail, but it sticks. And yes, later, if you push it, you can corrupt her properly, going from quick blowjob breaks to bending her over the office copier for anal, watching that big ass shake while the machine spits out useless sheets.

Not every scene is perfect. One of the titfuck moments feels a bit rushed, like they knew she has massive tits so they just went “ok, put dick between them” and moved on. But then another girl, the one styled like a cold, distant creative director, drags him into the wardrobe room full of clothes for the next shoot. She sits him down on a low bench, climbs on his lap like it is a throne, and the sound design quietly peaks. You hear fabric sliding, hangers tapping, her little moans that she tries to swallow because there are still people a few meters away. When she finally sinks down on his cock, the angle almost makes you feel that stretch yourself, slow vaginal grind that turns into rough fucking and then spanking her ass so hard the clothes around them rustle. The corruption is not just “she is horny now”, you feel how some of them start asking for it. The secretary who once flirted safely is later begging to be used under the desk while the boss is in a video call. The boss who once scolded him starts testing how far she can go before completely giving in. It is all choices and branches, but it never feels like a math problem. More like you are texting three people on WhatsApp at the same time, promising each of them something different, knowing at least one is going to get hurt and you kind of want that. And yes, the protagonist is inexperienced, but by the time he has a little harem of coworkers sucking, riding, getting spanked in the break room, he is not pretending to be a nice guy anymore. Or maybe he still is. Depends what you click.

You’re the poor bastard who climbed the ladder just high enough that nobody shoots you, but everybody dumps their shit on your desk. Whole galaxy is rotting, planets choking on smog, priests screaming about purity, and you’re in a cramped office where the lights buzz like insects while you decide if some mining colony gets air filters or “thoughts and prayers.” And right in the middle of that, you keep tripping over women who want to fuck you, argue with you, manipulate you, or all three at once. Not because you’re some chosen hero, but because your signature can save their lives or destroy their whole world, and in this empire, pussy is just another kind of paperwork.

You start as this awkward virgin clerk who suddenly has real power, and the game never lets you forget how weird that is. One moment you’re reading a report about famine on a frozen shithole planet, next moment a bored noble MILF is sitting too close on your couch, pretending she’s worried about “trade quotas” while her hand creeps up your thigh. She’s old enough to have kids in the guard, tits poured into some ridiculous formal dress, and she’s treating your office like it’s a private bedroom. You can push her away and grill her about corruption, or you grab her hair and she drops on her knees between your legs and starts sucking like this is the only way she remembers how to negotiate. The game is blunt about it: she wants a better result on your decision, and she’s ready to slobber on your cock for it, lipstick smeared, eyes watering, trying to moan around your dick while you skim her file. And it’s fucked up, because while she’s gagging on you, you’re also actually reading the numbers and thinking, “yeah, this planet is screwed.”

That’s kind of how the whole thing feels: serious and horny at the same time, like someone mashed a grim sci fi bureaucracy sim with a porn VN and just didn’t apologize. There’s this cute junior scribe who brings you data slates and looks like she’s gonna burst from stress, and if you’re gentle, she slowly cracks, starts opening up about how terrified she is of getting reassigned to some nightmare warzone. First time you manage to calm her down, she leaves… but if you keep backing her, she eventually turns up in your room, shutting the door, cheeks red, hands shaking as she offers herself like she’s filing a desperate last-minute request. She’s still technically the one begging, but you KNOW the power is in your hands when she climbs into your lap and whispers that she’s never done this before, then winces as you push inside her, tight and wet and clinging to your shirt so hard the fabric creaks. And right after you finish, there’s this short, shitty silence, like “ok, cool, now you both work in the same office tomorrow.” No magic romance fade-out, just sticky thighs and a stack of forms on the desk you still have to sign.

What caught me was how your traits twist those scenes. Pick paranoid and you’re double-checking everyone, even when some guardwoman with arms thicker than your waist is riding your dick in a barracks bunk, using you like a toy because she’s lonely and half drunk, and your brain is still going “is she trying to get a transfer out of that meat grinder of a front line?” Go empath and it actually stings when a woman offers her body like it’s the last thing she has left to bargain with. You can still grab her by the hips and fuck her raw over your office table, her moans mixing with the quiet hum of cogitators, but it hits different when you realize her whole world literally hangs on the word you’re going to stamp on that form after you pull out and she’s dripping on your paperwork. The art has that rough AI feel sometimes, but every now and then a scene lands just right: a milf with tired eyes but a hungry mouth, a scared virgin biting her lip while you push in slowly, a smirking manipulator who’s clearly enjoying the game more than you are. It’s messy, it’s not “nice,” and it leans into the idea that in this empire, romance, lust, fear, and red tape are all the same fucking language. Dare to play it alone, or invite company?