Foggy forest, quiet as hell, and you’re lost with a hard-on you don’t want to admit you have. That’s pretty much the mood here. The trees feel wrong in that fairy-tale way, like they’re watching, but not in a horror movie thing, more like they’re just waiting for you to do something stupid and horny. Then this witch shows up, and she doesn’t look like the usual “I cast fireball” witch. She’s got that lazy smile that says she already knows what you’re going to click, and she smells like a toy store mixed with a bath bomb shop. Latex, sugar, soap, that weird clean-but-not-innocent vibe. The game doesn’t rush to shout what you’re in for, but yeah, if you’re into inflatables and transformation and that floaty, rubbery ownership of a body that stops being flesh and turns into a damn balloon, it hits that itch pretty directly.

The cool part is how low-key everything starts. It’s just you poking around her little forest corner, clicking stuff, poking at bottles, weird trinkets, that sort of thing. Half of it feels like background junk until you notice something reacts if you try again, or if you did another scene before. There was this moment where I accidentally triggered a change too early, and my character’s body started filling out, tight and squeaky, and I actually paused, staring at my screen like, “ok, I did not expect it to jump to that this fast.” The game is short, yeah, but it doesn’t waste your kinks. The inflation is not just “you get bigger.” It’s that slow, pressurised feeling in the text and art, the witch teasing you, almost casual about turning your body into her private float, testing how much air or magic you can hold. She treats the whole thing like a cozy craft project, while you’re the one struggling with how round you’re getting. It’s a weird mix of mystery and fetish, and I like that it doesn’t apologize for it even once. You’re not playing a hero, you’re playing a future decoration, and she knows it way before you do.

The forest itself is small, but it feels like one of those “hidden room” games where there’s always one last strange item you haven’t clicked in the right order. I spent way too long clicking the same damn stump because I was convinced it had a secret, and honestly I’m still annoyed it didn’t. But while I was being stubborn, I kept noticing little reactions: the witch’s comments changing, the way she hints at other “guests” she inflated before, maybe still around, maybe not in the shape you expect. There’s magic everywhere, but it’s that squishy, rubber-magic. You’re not slinging spells; you’re more like the spell result. A toy, a trophy, an experiment. The furry angle sneaks in too, with those hints that your body isn’t only filling with air, it’s shifting into something cutesy, animal-ish, then more object than creature. Ears, tail, then plastic sheen, then hollow. It’s honestly hot as hell if you’re into losing control and becoming a thing instead of a person. And the best part, or the worst, depending on your brain, is that the witch never seems cruel. She’s playful, almost seasonal, like some twisted holiday hostess inviting you to become part of the decorations, tucked between the trees, gleaming under moonlight, filled tight and waiting. You kind of know from the beginning this forest is not a place you walk out of on your own feet. You’re rolling, floating, squeaking your way out, if you leave at all.

Champion of I: Luxuria feels like someone mashed together a horny tabletop campaign, a twisted VN, and one of those old browser RPGs you secretly played in the school computer lab, then sprinkled futa demon dick on top just to see who flinches first. You play a male Guardian tossed into this trial continent thing, Eden, where every second NPC is either trying to kill you, fuck you, convert you to their weird cult, or some chaotic mix of all three. It’s fantasy, but not the comfy kind. More like “congrats, you survived the ambush, here’s a monster girl who wants to drain you dry through your cock” kind. And the game just looks at you like, well, what do you do now, genius. The whole thing runs as a sort of point and click story flow with turn based combat stapled into it, where you’re juggling stats, conditions and relationships while also trying to remember which character you promised anal to. Scenes swing pretty fast from tense combat to filthy sex, and sometimes both bleed into each other in this way that feels kinda wrong and kinda perfect for this setting.

The sex itself is not subtle at all. You get vaginal, oral, anal, futa on male, monster girls who are way too into your suffering, weird swinging situations where your supposed harem members are trading fluids like it’s a Discord server gone wild. There’s this one moment early where you “save” a monster girl and the game quietly checks if you’re the kind of degenerate who offers your ass as a thank you or if you play the noble hero and just, you know, fuck her normally. Later on, I ran into a futa priestess who basically turned a victory scene into a full on worship session around my cock, and the game let me either lean into the goddess of lust vibe or resist it and feel like an absolute idiot. The writing is talky, sometimes too dramatic, then suddenly drops a line that sounds like it was written by a horny shitposter on Reddit. I kinda love that, but also sometimes it reads like the dev wrote it at 3% brain battery while scrolling Twitter on another monitor. The combat is fine, sometimes actually brutal, with status effects that stick around and make the next sex scene hit different because your guy is exhausted, cursed, or literally marked by some chaos thing. There is a sandbox feel, lots of routes, lots of choices that don’t hold your hand, and yeah, you can absolutely screw yourself out of content by choosing badly without the game apologizing. It’s messy, thirsty, dark as hell, but in that way where you keep telling yourself “one more scene” while Discord pings stack up and you ignore them.

High Street on a Friday night feels like that horny fever dream you get after scrolling too much Reddit and forgetting to clear your history. CineRush is just a tiny cinema, but the game treats it like a messy little porn sandbox where everyone’s half working, half flirting, half pretending this is still about movies. You play the dude who somehow has keys to all the drama and all the panties, and yeah, you’re technically “on shift”, but we both know you’re here to click on every girl and see what happens when they think nobody’s watching. The air is full of popcorn, sweat, and bad decisions. It’s nice.

Becky is supposed to be your safe option, the long-term girlfriend, the “we know all the regulars by name” type. She’s got that clingy loyal vibe, like a tab that’s been open in Chrome for six months. She pretends she’s cool with everything, but the game keeps letting you push that line a bit more. You’re chatting up Lily behind the counter, Lily leans a little too close, laughs at your shit jokes, brushes your hand while pretending to pass tickets, and you just watch Becky’s face freeze for a second before she looks away. Tiny stuff like that hits harder than a straight-up sex scene. Then later you’re cleaning the hallway and suddenly Lily’s shifting her skirt in the security camera blind spot, teasing you like she knows you’ve already mentally railed her over the popcorn machine. And no one says “hey, this is a moral choice”, the game just lets it hang there. Ugly in a good way.

Chloe and Ella are the chaos pair. Chloe is the fixer, the one who “just wants everyone to get along” while low-key pushing you into risky shit. She’s the type to dare you to sneak into an empty screen with Becky, then conveniently send Lily in with a fake “manager needs you” excuse, letting your dick write the plot. Ella doesn’t even pretend to be subtle. She’ll bend over in the aisle while “picking up trash”, flash you just long enough that you panic-click the wrong thing like an idiot and miss the better path. One second you’re just taking tickets, next second Ella is asking how far you’ve gone with Becky, then suggesting you “test the seats in the back row” with her instead because, hey, research. The game loves these tiny point and click spots where you go “if I click this poster, is it just flavor text or does someone end up stripping behind it”. Half the time it’s just some dumb joke, half the time you stumble into a scene where the lights flick off mid-movie and someone’s hand lands on your crotch while the audience pretends not to notice. It’s horny cinema-staff roleplay mixed with party energy, teasing just long enough to make you swear at the screen when an auto-trigger interrupts a strip tease you worked like four decisions to line up. I still hate that one empty popcorn bucket in the lobby that looks clickable but does absolutely nothing. I kept poking it for way too long like a clown.

The Warrior of Light is fucked up in the head and the body, in the best way. You start not as some fresh rookie, but as a hero who already burned through all the epic bullshit and paid for it. Your power runs on feelings, and you basically overdosed on emotions. So now the plot is simple and kinda genius: to get your strength back, you need therapy that is not really therapy, more like “let’s weaponize affection, horniness and cuddling” while you crawl through this weird mix of parody fantasy and horny sandbox. It feels like someone read the source material with one hand and a grin, then asked: “ok but what if all the bonding scenes actually went where the fanfics always wanted them to go?”

You hop around locations like a point and click pervert, poking at things, pestering girls and guys, flirting with monster cuties that really should not be that adorable. One moment you chill with a smug mage who keeps teasing you about “purely magical research”, next moment a towering monster girl is talking about eating you and you are not sure if she means your soul or your cock. The game lets you play both as the big-name hero and, in some scenes, slide into a female POV who is just as horny and just as messy. Lesbian moments don’t feel like they were slapped in for a tag checklist, you actually get that slow, stupid build: hands brushing, a joke that goes too far, a dare, then suddenly you are between her thighs and she is trying not to be too loud and failing. There is gay content too where your so-called “bro” from past battles suddenly remembers how intense your bond is and decides the best way to help you recover is to jerk you off while talking about old campaigns like it's totally normal. Straight stuff, anal, oral, soft romance, nasty power play, it is all there, but mixed so casual it almost feels like hanging out with old party members who just stopped pretending.

In between all this sex comedy, the game still remembers it is an RPG. There is turn based combat that looks kind of silly for someone who already saved the world, because sometimes you are fighting with your dick basically on cooldown. Skills fueled by emotions mean a blowjob scene can literally make you stronger in the next fight, which is extremely stupid and somehow perfect. You’ll be doing little “therapy sessions” where a lover slowly jerks you off while asking about your trauma, and then the UI happily shows your stats going up as you moan through it. The humor is half shitpost, half affectionate roast of the original story: characters misquote dramatic lines while riding you, someone tries to give a heartfelt speech and keeps getting interrupted by your hand on their ass. It is rough in places, not every joke lands, sometimes the sandbox pacing goes weird and you are stuck clicking through flirting when you just want to get railed, but that unpolished feeling makes it more like a horny fan project that grew too big and never learned how to behave. One scene you’re carefully romancing a shy girl, whispering sweet nothings while you lick her, next scene a smug dragon girl is using your face like a chair and calling it “treatment” for your emotional overload. It should not work. It kind of does.