I don't know what kind of budget they were working with but the Flash's face in this thing looks like a melted candle. His proportions are all wrong, like someone described a human body over a bad phone connection and the artist just went with it. Dinah Lance though, Black Canary, she's drawn with this obsessive attention to her tits and ass that makes the whole thing feel like it was made by two different people who never spoke to each other. One guy really cared about getting her fishnets right, the other guy gave up on drawing hands entirely.

The titfuck sequence is the centerpiece obviously. She's got these massive silicone looking things and the physics are completely absurd, like water balloons filled with pudding. The animation loops are maybe three seconds each and they just cycle endlessly while you click through dialogue that reads like it was translated through seventeen languages and back. "Your speed force makes my chest area feel the good vibrations" is an actual line. I'm not making that up. The blowjob scene has this weird thing where her mouth doesn't quite line up with his dick, there's always this gap like she's mime-sucking an invisible cock while the real one hovers nearby. It's genuinely unsettling for about two seconds and then it becomes hilarious.

The fingering part is where things get truly unhinged because suddenly there's this close up shot that looks like a medical diagram from an alternate dimension. I don't know what reference they used but it wasn't human anatomy. The whole thing has this energy like someone discovered Flash for the first time and thought "what if he used super speed for handjobs" which, fine, that's the premise, but then they executed it with the artistic confidence of a horny teenager's notebook margins. You can skip most of the dialogue by clicking randomly which I recommend because the writing is physically painful. The sound design is just stock wet noises layered over each other until it sounds like someone making mac and cheese in an echo chamber. I wish there was a gallery mode because clicking through the same three animations to get to the one decent frame of Black Canary's tits is tedious.

The first thing that hits you is the art. It's that AI CG style, you know the one, where skin looks like polished plastic and the anatomy sometimes goes on a little adventure of its own. Wonder Woman's tits have their own gravitational pull here, I swear. But then Harley Quinn shows up with that grin and the teasing starts and you forget to care about the weird fingers. The groping scenes are surprisingly direct. No fade to black bullshit.

Catwoman's section is where the "lowered inhibitions" plot actually works. She's not just throwing herself at Batman, there's this weird, stilted negotiation happening while she's basically dry humping him on a rooftop. The dialogue is pure parody, like someone fed a wiki summary of their relationship into a translator and then back. I wish the monster girl tag was more than just a brief hallucination sequence. You get this flash of a fantasy creature with big tits and then it's gone, back to the main plot. Feels like a missed opportunity. The Black Canary oral sex scene though. That one lingers. The animation is janky, it loops weirdly, but the sound design, or lack of it, makes it almost hypnotic. Just wet noises and her muffled sounds. My leaderboard brain is screaming about the lack of a skip button for repeated dialogue trees. You have to click through the same setup every time you want to see a different creampie ending. It's a pacing killer.

The superpowers are barely a thing. Batman's "vulnerability" is just him being horny, which, fine, that's the game. But don't tease me with a plot device and then just use it as an excuse for a lesbian scene between Harley and Ivy that feels copy pasted from another game entirely. The male protagonist perspective is weirdly passive. You're watching Batman get seduced, not doing the seducing. For a game about losing control, you never feel in control. The adventure tag is generous. It's a hallway with tits. Still, that one moment where Wonder Woman uses her lasso in a way that definitely wasn't in the comics? I screenshotted that. For the group chat. Not the leaderboard. The AI CG makes everything look like a very specific, very expensive dream you'd have after eating bad pizza. I'll probably replay the Catwoman bit. Don't tell anyone.

There is this very trashy, very honest kind of horniness in this game that I actually respect, even if I want to argue with it every five seconds like an angry gender studies aunt. You open it and it’s not pretending to be some high-art erotic VN with trauma backstories and “deep” consent metaphors. No. It’s literally: here is a blonde in tight leather, here is a mask over half her face like she escaped from a cheap superhero porn parody, here are some numbers floating on her body, now try not to fuck up your blackjack. I was ready to hate it on theory, like, “great, another strip thing where women are just rewards,” but then ten minutes later I’m staring at her cleavage doing mental math and swearing at the screen because I hit on 15 like an idiot and lost my chance to see what’s under the bra. Critical distance? Gone. Completely sold out for one more card.

What I like in some messy way is how the girls here are clearly built from real models, not generically smooth fake dolls. There is this one Lana lookalike, blonde with that smug “I know you’re staring at my tits and I’m fine with it” vibe, the kind of woman who would absolutely roll her eyes at your Tinder bio but still let you buy her a drink. Her leather outfit squeaks visually, tight around the hips, and then you have this black canary type in a short mask, doing this slow striptease that is half bored, half teasing, like she’s clocked out of real life and is just cashing in on your bad decisions at the virtual table. From a gender perspective it is so textbook male gaze that it almost becomes self aware again. The bodies are there purely to be counted and undressed. At the same time the game keeps reminding you that you’re the clown, because one wrong hit and the round ends and she just stands there smirking, still covered, like, “try again, loser.” Empowerment? No. But she definitely holds more power than the nerd mashing buttons on the mouse.

The blackjack itself is this funny little tension machine. You’re not thinking about patriarchy when you’re staring at a 12 and the next number floats across her thigh and you’re trying to look at both the card and her skin at the same time. I had this one round where I needed a low card, and the number 4 drifted right over her nipple, half hidden by the bra edge. For a second my brain froze between “don’t sexualize the math” and “god I hope that’s my draw.” I misclicked because my finger followed the boob instead of the card position and I actually laughed at myself. Objectification dialectic in real time, courtesy of horny blackjack. It’s stupid, and a bit trashy, and very male fantasy, but it also exposes how quickly theory melts when you put arousal next to a simple game loop. I kinda wish there was even one girl who looked less like a comic book convention fantasy and more like someone I’d see on a messy Instagram story, but the game doesn’t care and it never pretends to. It’s leather, masks, numbers on soft skin, you lose, they keep their clothes; you win, they peel them off one layer at a time and you forget what you were coming here to critique in the first place.