You land back in a house that’s supposed to be “home”, but it feels more like a horny social experiment with blood ties and fake smiles. Dad is gone, funeral smell still in your nose, and suddenly you’re sitting in a car with a woman who looks like an older, hotter version of the girls from your porn folders. She calls herself your mother, acts like the past fifteen years were just a little misunderstanding, and drives you straight into a nest full of women who all call you family and look like trouble. Not soft trouble. The kind you want.

The game doesn’t waste much time pretending you’re a saint. You’re the only guy in a house with three “sisters” who don’t know what to do with you yet, and a mom who keeps hugging you just a bit longer than normal. At first you’re just walking around, checking rooms, catching them in little private moments. One of your sisters thinks the door is fully closed, sits on her bed with her phone and starts touching herself, trying to be silent. You can back away, or stay and watch while the camera slowly sneaks closer, like you’re literally breathing on the crack of the door. Later she mentions feeling watched but doesn’t quite accuse you. That’s the fun part: nobody is really innocent, they just pretend harder than you.

What I liked is how conversations feel like messed up speed-dating, but with people you’re not supposed to date. You test pickup lines on them like you learned everything from Pornhub comments and some cringy Reddit posts. Sometimes it works way too well. You tell your oldest sister that her new yoga outfit “fits her ass so perfectly it’s distracting” expecting a slap, and she just blushes and turns around slowly, asking if it really looks that good on her. You can double down, stand right behind her while she bends forward, or chicken out and talk about stretching “for health” like some idiot. The game lets you push that line between teasing and straight-up corruption a lot, and it feels less like a scripted romance and more like poking at a weak spot until it breaks.

The blackmail angle slides in quietly. Your mom is strict in this very religious, fake moral way, but she keeps leaving her phone around. You catch spicy messages from some married guy, grab a few screenshots, and suddenly every argument at the dinner table has a hidden gun under it. Want her to stop nagging you about your grades? Hint that her “church friend” might see those messages. Want her to pour more wine and loosen up on the couch? Just tap your pocket where the phone is. At one point she’s yelling at you for being lazy, you lean in and murmur something about “pastor Daniel and that bathroom selfie,” and she just shuts up, cheeks red, then changes topic and asks if you’re eating enough. Later that same woman is on her knees, fingers digging into your thighs, trying to pretend this is still some kind of motherly affection while you hold her hair and decide how rough you wanna be.

Not everything is smooth. The pacing jumps. One evening you’re getting a shy hug, the next you have one of the girls on your lap, grinding over your cock while pretending she just “needs a massage for her back.” But honestly that chaos fits. The house slowly turns into your personal playground. You spank a younger sister “as a joke” after she steals your towel, and the slap sound is way too loud, echoing in the bathroom. She freezes, then laughs nervously, and asks if you’ll do it again “but not so hard this time.” Of course you can ignore it. You won’t.

There’s this tiny thing that annoyed me for no good reason: everyone keeps walking around with their phones, but you can’t just open some real-world app like Telegram inside the game. You get this fake messaging system that still somehow nails the feeling of late-night thirst texts. One girl sends you a pic of her in panties, pretending it’s an “outfit check,” and you can reply with flirty bullshit or just tell her to come to your room. Pick the flirty option and it drags things out in a fun way, pick the direct one and you’ll have her kneeling between your legs, drool on your shaft, eyes shining like she knows she crossed a line she can’t walk back from.

Little by little they all stop seeing you as just the long-lost relative and more like the man of the house, the one who decides when a kiss stays innocent and when a tongue slips in, when a handjob “by accident” turns into her swallowing your load while you call her a good girl. The game pretends it’s about healing old family wounds, but it’s really about how fast you can turn that whole house into something dirty, secret, and completely yours.

This one feels like someone took a horny fashion week, locked it inside a demon brothel and then said “ok, now make it emotional but still fuck a lot.” The House itself is basically a luxury showroom where every corridor feels like a backstage runway right before the models go out, except the models are demons and humans trying to fuck their way to a Hall of Fame. I’m a lingerie designer by job, so I notice stupid things first. The first time you meet one of the girls, the way her outfit tells you exactly who she is before she speaks really hit me. Lace that looks innocent from far, but closer you see it barely hides anything. Straps that look decorative, but they sit exactly where a hand would grab during sex. Superpowers here are not just some menu choice, they feel like extra accessories on a body. Power is styled, not only written. You’re a demon with memories locked away and somehow the story still wants you to care about feelings while also asking you “ok, which pussy do you want tonight?” It should not work, but it kind of does. Or it doesn’t. I can’t decide.

The whole “performer” angle makes the sex feel like a show you’re also directing, not only watching. There’s a moment where one girl is trying so hard to impress you that she holds her pose longer than is actually sexy, like a model freezing for a bad photographer. She keeps her legs open, panting, waiting for your next choice, and there’s this tiny second where you see her doubt slip through the dirty talk. That tiny second is weirdly hotter than the actual vaginal sex that follows. Speaking of that, the game is not shy. Penetration is treated like something serious, not “and then dick goes in, fade to black.” You pick how you approach, how rough, how soft, and her reaction is not just one repeated moan file in your mind. She complains, she teases, she even gets annoyed at you once for stopping halfway and I liked that a lot. No, actually I hated it, because I had to reload to see another option and the menu font is too damn small and now I am angry again. Anyway. The House is all about “who pushes which button” and sometimes that is literal: there are choices that feel like pressing a nipple, or sliding two fingers between lace and skin. The game pretends to care about your mission to save someone important, but every time a girl leans in, whispers in your ear, offers you her throat and her thighs, the whole grand destiny thing disappears like last season’s collection. Which is fine. Or not. I actually forgot to talk about the harem side, but you already know what that means. You start thinking “I’ll stay loyal to this one broken, beautiful demon” and two scenes later you are balls deep in someone else, promising her she is special too. And the thing is, the House believes you. That’s what sticks after closing the tab: all these women styled like living lingerie, each one trying to be your favorite outfit, while you pretend you’re choosing with your heart and not with your cock.

This one feels like when you were a teenager hiding in your room with crappy headphones, playing GTA on a tiny screen and pausing every time someone walked by, but now it grew up, got tits, and started doing mafia shit. You play this woman who looks like she should be on some rich guy’s yacht, but instead she’s stuck dealing with thugs, dirty money, “family business,” and her own fucked-up past that never really shuts up. She’s tough, but not superhero tough. More like: sometimes she smokes in silence, sometimes she wants to fuck someone’s brains out just to forget, sometimes she looks at the city lights and you know she’s thinking, “If I jump sides now, who shoots me first?” The game lets you tease, stall, and pull back a lot. Foreplay is practically a mechanic. There are whole scenes where nothing “big” happens, she just leans in too close, plays with a guy’s expectations, arches her back so those massive tits are right in frame, then walks away like “not yet.” And yeah, eventually it’s not just teasing. When clothes start coming off, they really come off. You get her pressed on cold cars, bent over expensive desks, riding a guy who should probably be at some mafia meeting but is instead buried in her ass while she’s half moaning, half threatening him. Her body is like its own character: big chest, hips that don’t even pretend to be subtle, that kind of ass where even walking across a room looks like a lap dance. There’s a bit where she’s negotiating with some asshole, pretending to be all serious, then she just sits on the edge of his desk like it’s nothing and crosses her legs slow. The camera knows exactly where you’re looking. It’s uncomfortably real in that “I should not be this horny while they’re talking about murder” kind of way.

I like how it mixes all this heavy crime drama with sexual tension that never fully goes away. Sometimes you’re choosing if she stays loyal to one side or sells them out for another, and right after that you’re choosing if she lets a guy taste her or just grind on him till he’s begging. At one point she’s half naked in a dim room, with city lights outside, talking about revenge like it’s a dirty secret, and the scene is so long I started wondering if my phone bugged out. It didn’t. They just wanted me to stare at her curves forever. It reminded me of those old flash games on Newgrounds where the sex scenes were kind of clumsy but you still replayed them ten times, except this is way cleaner and dirtier at the same time. Funny thing, the sound of her heels on the pavement got stuck in my head more than the moans did, and now every time I hear that click-clack outside I think of her pressing her chest against some guy’s back, whispering into his ear while her hand slides lower. And I’m still annoyed the game used the same alley background twice in a row during a really hot scene and I cannot stop noticing it every time I go back there. It’s like when Pornhub buffers at the exact wrong second and you still remember that freeze-frame. I was going to say something smart here about crime stories and power fantasies but honestly I just keep seeing that one shot of her bending over a car hood with her huge ass in the air, pretending she’s checking for damage while the guy behind her is clearly not thinking about the car at all. Anyway. Streets. Sex. Bad decisions. Big tits. That’s the vibe.

Erik comes back to this private island after a year away and the whole place feels like it’s holding its breath. That is basically the mood of the novel. Sunburnt paradise, empty villa, two twins walking around each other like they’re scared to breathe too hard because one wrong look and they are ready to fuck on the nearest piece of furniture. The story sticks you inside their heads a lot, both him and Lyna, and it hits that awkward horny childhood memory vibe, where you remember things you shouldn’t have stared at, touches that lasted a bit too long, late showers with thin walls. There is no “click this, choose that”, you just sit there and watch the tension grow while they pretend to be normal. It feels slow for a while, almost like the author is teasing you on purpose, with stupidly wholesome things like headpats, soft hugs, holding hands on the couch under some trashy Netflix show. Then there is that first real look, the moment he realizes her ass is not “little sister” anymore, and you can basically hear his brain break in silence. I run NSFW events, I saw people do kink performances in public, and still that quiet bedroom scene with nothing but eye contact and careful breathing felt filthier than a gangbang.

When it starts to go over the line, it really does not bother to pretend it is classy. You get a lot of dirty family talk, like, they lean into the taboo instead of hiding it. She teases him while he is trying to be the responsible one, climbs onto his lap, grinds slow, makes him admit he’s been watching her sleep. There is POV stuff that feels almost too personal, like you are the one between her thighs while she still calls you “bro” and says she shouldn’t like it this much. The game flips between him and her sometimes, and that makes the corruption hit harder, because you see how she talks about being a virgin and in the next chapter she is planning how to get his tongue between her legs without him running away. There is also a lot of focus on small physical kinks: toes on his lips, her foot pressing on his cock while she pretends to watch the waves, her sitting on his face like it’s totally normal. Then their mom Helga is on her way to the villa, and the vibe shifts again. She is not just “MILF appears, dicks out”. She has her own messy thing going on, a controlling presence, a bit of soft female dom energy, and she changes how both twins act. One moment it is this romantic, almost sweet incest bubble, and the next it is him getting jerked off under the table while Helga talks about family values and pregnancy like some twisted sermon. I actually hated one thing: there is a throwaway bit with a phone notification mid-scene, totally killed my rhythm, and then the story never mentions that chat again. It lives rent free in my brain. Still, when the anal and titfuck and all the other stuff finally explode after so much build up, it feels less like porn clips glued together and more like you followed two idiots all the way from “I will just hug you” to “I am going to fill my sister on the same bed we used as kids”. It’s wrong, it’s hot, it’s surprisingly emotional, and it really does not apologize for any of it.