You’re this so-called genius cultivator student who absolutely did not ask to be dropped in the middle of a collapsing multiverse, but here you are, with way too much power, a dick that gets you in trouble, and a mentor who looks like he could punch a planet in half and then go back to meditating. The whole thing feels like someone smashed together a Wuxia power fantasy, cyberpunk neon porn, and those old-school space harems where every woman is absurdly hot and also probably able to crush you with one thigh. Which, by the way, happens at one point, and it’s animated enough that you kinda feel it in your ribs. You’re chasing your lost heritage, talking about Dao and cultivation realms, but every “breakthrough” ends up with you buried in some monster girl’s tits or pinned against a glass wall by a smug cyber-elf with glowing tattoos and a strap-on that hums like a starship engine.

The game swings really fast between serious “save the universe” stakes and “ok, now watch this tiger-eared general with a huge ass ride your virgin protagonist until he can’t breathe.” There’s this early scene where your battle group of women, all completely different flavors of dangerous, argue about tactics. It starts like classic sci-fi war room talk, then one of the twins just casually drops “We should test his endurance again, he almost fainted during the triple-oral training,” and nobody blinks. You end up on your knees in some high-tech cultivation chamber, three girls using you like a living toy while their auras clash and glow all around you, neon lines tracing over their skin, tails swishing, cybernetic implants pulsing, and they complain about your technique like it’s just drilling homework on Discord. The MC is technically this unstoppable prodigy, but half the time he’s getting blindfolded, tied up with glowing restraints that react to his spiritual energy, and used as a focus tool while the girls fight off monsters in the next room, dripping back into the scene covered in ichor and sweat and then grinding on his face like it’s part of the ritual.

Sex scenes feel less like “reward for quest” and more like a twisted part of the cultivation path. Need to unlock a new superpower? Fine, time for a group session with the twins and the stoic swordswoman where they edge you with toys that look like ancient artifacts, talk about meridians and energy flow while you’re balls deep in a fox-girl who purrs and claws the floor, then they time your orgasm to a cosmic event outside the window. There’s a cyberpunk city arc where you chase a lead on the Cursed God, and instead of subtle detective work, you end up in an underground BDSM club run by a furry empress in a latex qipao who uses your cock as “payment” for information, testing you with shock-collars and breathplay while rain hits the neon glass. One moment you’re trading philosophical bullshit on destiny, the next you’re getting deepthroated by a monster girl with bioluminescent tongue rings who swallows you to the base and then opens a portal with her free hand like it’s nothing. It’s messy, it’s horny, it’s obsessed with big tits, big asses, swallowing, creampies that actually matter for the plot, and that weird tension where your “battle group” is supposed to protect the universe but keeps ending up covered in your cum, arguing over who gets to be your main wife while a god eats galaxies in the background.

For those who crave the raw, unfiltered side of Fullmetal Alchemist’s fiercest blonde, this isn’t just fantasy, it’s a filthy reality. Major General Olivier Milla Armstrong, known for her iron will and commanding presence, reveals a lustful hunger beneath that tough exterior.

When one of her male soldiers can’t hold back his raging boner, she steps in without hesitation. She strips down, barely sparing herself any modesty, and spreads those perfect, round tits wide, inviting him to fuck her hard.

This isn’t just about sex; it’s about power, control, and pure, unrestrained pleasure. Mira Armstrong knows exactly how to take charge in the bedroom just like she does on the battlefield.

Though it’s not a full game, this experience lets you explore how far Olivier Mira Armstrong can go when the uniform comes off and the real fun begins. Feel the heat rise as she takes control and turns a simple moment in the barracks into an unforgettable fuck session.

For lovers of hentai with big tits, blonde bombshells, and uniforms thrown aside, this is a must-see. Join Olivier Mira Armstrong as she proves that even the toughest generals have a wild, naughty side waiting to be unleashed.

You’re 21, fresh out of uni, brain full of half-broken dreams and porn tabs, alone in a tiny place that looks more like a temporary save file than a real home. No job, no plan, no clue. Just a bed, a phone, and this weird feeling that whatever girl walks through your life next is basically a glitch in the code that will push you in some fucked up direction forever. This game leans hard into that idea. It isn’t trying to be “romantic” in the vanilla Netflix way. It feels more like fate dragging you by the collar through kinks you never admitted out loud, while you keep telling yourself “yeah, I can stop anytime” and then obviously you don’t. You start as this regular, kinda lost guy, but the story quietly puts you in spots where you’re kneeling, begging, turned on, confused, all of it layered, like when you’re scrolling Pornhub and suddenly your recommended list is just one big accusation.

The girls are not just checklists of tags, they’re like different corrupt routes for your soul. Tangent shows up like a walking red flag, the kind of woman you’d swear you should avoid, and then you end up refreshing Telegram waiting for her next message anyway. She treats you like a toy she already owns, plays with your ego, talks down to you while she has you licking her clean after she uses your face, or makes you hold still while she rides your cock and casually insults how pathetic you look. One moment she gives you a handjob so slow you want to scream, staring right in your eyes like she can read every dirty thought, then next scene she has a plug in your ass and your dick throbbing untouched, calling it “training” like this is some sacred destiny instead of her just having fun. Humiliation here isn’t just chat text, it’s in tiny moments, like her making you thank her for letting you cum, right after she slapped you for asking. And yeah, there’s titjobs and oral and all the classic stuff, but the way she paces it, like she’s tuning your brain, makes it feel less like porn and more like a long, slow hack of your identity.

Then the story swerves. Penny slides in from a totally different angle, all soft colors and weird comfort, like those TikToks that look wholesome until you read the comments. The tone drops into this messed up “innocent” vibe that obviously isn’t innocent, and suddenly sex toys feel more like props in a role you’re not sure you chose. You’re supposed to be the adult, but scenes twist it so you’re the one who needs control taken away, who gets told what to wear, when to touch yourself, when not to. There’s this one part where you finish in a way that should feel normal, just basic vaginal sex, thrusting, her moaning in your ear, your hands on her hips, and then the aftermath turns it sideways with one line of dialogue that makes you realize you’re not the one writing your own story at all. Natalie isn’t any softer. She just attacks your gender, your pride, your whole idea of “what kind of man I am” and pokes it until it bends. She might start with a blowjob that feels like a reward, sloppy, spit running down your shaft, eye contact that burns, then a few scenes later she’s got you dressed up, sitting pretty, dick hard and useless, while she teases you with a vibrator and jokes about how you were never much of a “real guy” anyway. The thing with this game is that every route pretends it’s just a bit of kinky fun, but then you look back and realize each girl quietly edited a part of you, like fate didn’t give you choices, only different flavors of surrender.

You start as this poor bastard trying to get a job at Chimera Corp, and the “job interview” is basically you poking at a digital girl until she turns into exactly the kind of slutty little toy the company wants. It looks all corporate and clean at the start, like some boring HR training module, then you realize the whole thing is just an excuse to mess with a test subject’s body, brain, and personality in the most fucked up sci‑fi way possible. You don’t move a character on a map or anything, you sit in front of a fake company interface and tweak stats, pick sub-options, and watch your test girl go from regular office chick to whatever flavor of corrupted meat puppet you’re in the mood for. That could be a wide‑eyed innocent with slightly fuller lips and bigger tits who just “kind of likes” sucking cock now, or a full-on lactating breeding cow with a fat ass, ahegao face, and a contract to do double anal for company publicity material. The more you play with the sliders and categories, the more you start to feel a bit like a mad scientist who found a porn hub hidden inside Excel.

What sells it is how reactive everything feels. Tiny changes to “obedience” or “sexuality” don’t just show up as a number, they twist her whole vibe. One run you nudge her toward prostitution training and suddenly the feedback text starts describing her as eager to take on more clients, offering anal and titfucks to upsell, drooling about group sessions and bukkake “for the brand.” Pick more hardcore path and now she’s a mind‑broken BDSM pet, calling herself company property, begging to be branded and collared, talking like she lives to be spitroasted by management. Push transformation and body mods and you get big tits, big ass, different outfits, different hair, different speech patterns, sometimes a total change of identity, newly chosen name included, like she forgot she ever was a person and not a slave template. There are lots of little puzzle moments too, where you try to hit a specific combination: the right mix of obedience, skill, and depravity to unlock a certain type of ending. Some leads you to a loyal office whore who handles private “meetings” and HR blackmail, other ones spit out a gangbang-ready cum dump that the company loans to entire teams as stress relief. And yeah, budget limits mean you cannot just max everything, you gotta pick if you want her to be an anal specialist, an oral goddess, or the perfect multi‑penetration toy that passes internal QA.

The art is AI generated but it actually works for this weird corporate-sci‑fi vibe, like you are browsing some shady internal database of test subjects that were never meant to see daylight. You keep clicking and thinking “okay, that’s enough” and then you stumble on a variation where she has milk dripping from huge tits, mascara running, mouth open in a ruined ahegao while the report calmly talks about her “improved productivity in group sex environments” and suddenly you are doing another playthrough. The writing leans hard into male domination and control, but it has that slightly fucked up humor where the system describes her as a “valuable asset for customer engagement” while she is basically a programmable anal slave who loves creampies and toys rammed everywhere. There is management logic behind everything too, which is funny: the game scores you not on how “nice” you are, but how profitable your personal fuckdoll is, how many holes she can keep busy, how marketable her new look is. It is short, yeah, and sometimes a stat change gives you a result you did not expect and you sit there swearing at the monitor because she lost the perfect big ass combo you just had, but then you restart and make a slightly different monster, a little more obedient, a little more corrupted, and you kind of forget you were annoyed five minutes ago.