Samantha shows up in this rotten city like she walked out of some half-forgotten cyberpunk fanfic and then someone spilled porn all over the manuscript. She is “the fixer”, sure, but half the time it feels like the city is fixing her instead, grinding her down with every job, every favor, every late-night “meeting” with someone who has too much power and not enough morals. The game throws you into Blaston, this polluted, hungry place where everyone wants something from her body first and her brains second. One moment you are discussing sabotage in a factory office, pretending you care about output numbers, and five minutes later the foreman has her bent over the desk, still trying to finish the dialogue options while his absurdly huge cock is already pushing in. It feels wrong and hot at the same time, especially when you realize her choices earlier made this exact humiliation possible. My inner literature nerd kept thinking about noir detectives who always drink too much and get punched in the alley, except here the hangover is replaced by cum dripping down her thigh on the train home while people stare.

What I like is how the game constantly forces you to juggle “professional” life and just pure degeneracy. You wake up, check your phone like in real life, see three messages: boss wants you to talk to a gang leader, some rich wife wants “private mediation” with her cheating husband, and a shady lab sends a polite invite to “participate in an experimental treatment” to improve her physical abilities. Saying yes to that third one can turn Samantha into all kinds of twisted versions of herself. I had a run where she ended up with a smooth thick futa shaft between her legs, and it completely changed how scenes played out. Suddenly she is the one pulling out her cock in a dark alley, forcing a cocky street punk to his knees and using his mouth until he gags, then deciding if she rewards him with a sticky creampie inside or just all over his face. Another time I went the opposite direction and let the city break her. She got dragged into this spiral with a group of monster girls and rough, smug black gangsters who pass her around in a derelict warehouse like she is public property. There is this one scene where she is standing naked on a loading dock in the rain, collar on her neck, one guy fucking her ass while another uses her mouth and a third is rubbing her swollen belly because, yeah, she is already pregnant from an earlier “negotiation” that went very off script. She tries to keep talking in-character about “peace between factions” while they just laugh and slap her tits until she shuts up and moans.

The corruption creeps in little by little. At the start she still gets shy when someone grabs her ass on the subway, pulls her skirt down, looks annoyed. Later she is riding that same train with no panties, sitting across from some nervous virgin office boy, spreading her legs a tiny bit wider each stop, watching him sweat. You can choose for her to drag him into a public restroom and ruin him for normal sex forever, jerking him off and then guiding his cock inside while she whispers that he belongs to her now, or you can ignore him and go meet your cuckold contact instead. That guy is married to this Amazon-tier woman with huge tits and a big black bull on the side, and your “job” is to keep the drama controlled. Which in practice turned into Samantha fucking the wife on the couch, licking her pussy while the bull rails her from behind, and the poor husband just sits in the corner stroking his worthless little dick. The game is full of this kind of tangled mess. You think it is just a life sim with calendars and stats, then suddenly you are on a rooftop at night, drunk on power, making a captured troublemaker kiss your boots before you jerk him off with them and push him over the edge of his old life. Romantic routes exist too, buried under all the filth. I accidentally made Samantha fall in love with a girl she was supposed to blackmail. They end up in a cheap motel, kissing shyly at first, then rubbing against each other until they both cum, no pressure, no money, no gang watching. It was almost sweet, which somehow made all the gangbangs, footjobs under bar tables, public groping in neon-lit clubs, BWC-driven netorare drama and messy creampies feel even dirtier by contrast. The city keeps asking her one question: how much of yourself are you willing to sell to keep fixing everyone else’s problems, and how much are you secretly enjoying that sale.

Storm, wet wood, that weird mix of salt and fear in your throat, and right in the middle of that you’ve got her: this perfect elven wife who still somehow looks holy even with her robes clinging to her curves. The game throws you onto this nameless island like the ocean just spat you out, and suddenly your “happily ever after” feels like a joke with bad timing. It’s not a complicated setup, actually kind of simple, which makes it worse. You, the loyal husband, still trying to act like a hero. Her, the devout priestess who actually believes all that purity talk. And then that guy, Borwin, this sweaty, wheezing sailor with piggy eyes who starts looking at her like she’s the last piece of meat in the world. The whole thing is a slow punch in the gut, because nothing explodes, nobody just jumps into fucking right away. It just stretches. Long glances. His “accidental” touches. Her nervous smile that hangs a little too long. And you get stuck watching, almost tasting that ugly mix of jealousy and arousal in your own mouth, like cheap rum you didn’t mean to drink.

What hit me hardest is how the game doesn’t rush the dirty stuff. First it plays with your brain. They’re sitting close to the fire, he laughs too loud, his hand lands on her thigh, and she doesn’t slap it away. Not right away. You feel that little sting in your chest, like, “hey, that’s my wife,” but you also stare at the screen longer than you should. When he ogles her tits through soaked fabric, it’s not subtle, and she notices, but instead of screaming she blushes and fidgets and pretends she didn’t see. It’s messed up, watching her slowly slide from “holy and untouchable” to “kind of flattered that this filthy bastard wants her so bad.” The corruption is mostly in her expressions, tiny shifts. Mouth a bit more parted when he leans close. Eyes not quite meeting yours. Then the touches change. His hand on her ass when he helps her “climb over a rock.” His fingers brushing along the inside of her thigh while he plays it off like he’s checking a wound. There’s a scene where she’s kneeling in front of him, supposedly “tending an injury,” and the camera knows exactly what your brain is doing. Her face is too close to his crotch, her lips too wet, and for a second the game just lets you sit there wondering if she’s going to use her mouth on him or if you’re just filthy for even thinking it.

At some point the line breaks and you don’t even remember exactly where. One night the priestess who swore her body belongs to the gods is on her back, robe pushed up, legs spread, and the guy filling her is not you. She moans in a way you’ve never heard from her scenes with you, louder, less controlled, like her body finally stopped pretending. Her tits bounce when he pounds into her, her ass lifts up to meet him, and you feel this horrible heat in your gut because the animation really leans into how much she’s getting into it. She grabs his arm, begs him not to stop, and the worst part is how her words sound half like prayer, half like porn. There’s this nasty little bit where he gropes her under the pretense of “warming her up” after a cold night, his thick fingers pushing under her clothes, and she’s shivering but not from the cold anymore. She bites her lip, tries to mumble something about “marriage vows,” but she’s grinding against his hand while she says it. Oral, handjob, full-on fucking, it all comes, just not in the order your pride would like. The game never lets you escape that tight, ugly feeling of watching your “treasure” get taken, then watching her start to want it more than anything you ever gave her. And you know what makes it even dirtier? There’s no choice to fix it, no magic button to “save” her. You’re just there, stuck in your own skin, watching this elf with a big perfect ass and soft bouncing tits get slowly rewritten by a disgusting sailor, and somewhere in the middle of her crying and moaning you realize you’re stroking yourself and hating yourself at the same time.

I swear this game started like a joke. I opened it expecting some lazy swipe-right simulator with recycled anime faces, but it slapped me with this weird mix of horny sincerity and unhinged chaos. The first match I got wasn’t even hot at first glance - looked like someone’s OC from a forgotten DeviantArt page - but ten minutes later I was reading her chat logs like they were gospel. The writing flirts between cringe and genius. Sometimes she’ll tease you with a line that sounds like it came from a bad fanfic, then follow it with something so filthy it short-circuits your brain. I caught myself grinning like an idiot. That’s embarrassing to admit, but whatever.

There’s this rhythm to it, like the devs knew exactly how long to keep you waiting before dropping the next explicit scene. Not that the pacing’s perfect - half the time I was yelling at my phone because the dialogue wheel bugged out or the transitions froze mid-thrust (yeah, that happened). But when it works, it *really* works. The futa characters all have that exaggerated anatomy thing going on - huge everything - but it’s not just about size. There’s personality behind it, like each one’s got a story that’s been fermenting in some dark corner of the internet for years. You can tell someone poured way too much love into making sure the teasing feels personal. It’s messy, sure, but that’s kind of the charm.

The weirdest part? The game pretends to be about romance, but it’s really about control. You think you’re choosing dialogue options, but half the time the girls are steering you like a toy. There’s a scene with a rooftop confession that spirals into something obscene so fast I actually laughed out loud. It shouldn’t work. It does. And yet, I still hate that the text font looks like something from a 2009 flash game. Why is that what sticks with me? Maybe because everything else feels too alive, too raw, like it shouldn’t even be on a phone screen.

You’re sitting there, phone in hand, thinking it’s just another cute little “help the girl get ready for her school exam” sim, right? Hair, makeup, outfit, some dialogue choices, a few horny CGs later. Easy. Except the “girl” the game wants to send to that exam is you. And you started this story with a dick, a very normal male student brain, and zero idea why the fuck you’re suddenly being measured on eyeliner technique and how well you can sway your hips in a tight skirt without flashing half the class.

The game opens quiet, almost boring, and that’s what hooked me. No instant blowjob tutorial, no “here’s your harem, pick a hole.” Just a nervous morning, a school setting that feels too normal, and weird little hints that something is off with your body. The first time you realize your reflection in the mirror doesn’t match the way you remember yourself, it hits like a small car crash. The dev takes their time with it, slow corruption of gender and morals at the same time. First it’s “just crossdressing for this one exam.” Then it’s “well, you need to practice walking in heels, let the teacher help your posture.” Then somehow you’re bent over the desk, feeling your ass slapped and graded like part of the curriculum, and the worst part is your in-game thoughts start to enjoy it. Those internal monologue lines when you’re getting groped in the hallway, and you catch yourself wondering which of the boys has the biggest cock, were dirtier than the actual CGs for me.

I liked how the game makes you complicit in your own downfall. You pick the lipstick shade that later gets smeared during a messy oral exam. You choose to act “a bit more submissive” to get a better score, and suddenly you’re on your knees between two classmates, throat used like a warm hole while the teacher pretends not to see. They pretend badly. There is some netorare shit going on, too, but sideways: your old male identity kind of feels like the one getting cuckolded as your new girly body gets filled, stretched, creampied. One run I had my “good girl” reputation used as an excuse to parade me in front of older staff, a humiliating little exhibition where they check if the “student” is ready. Gloved fingers spreading you open, comments about how tight you are and how a nice big black cock will fix that. Another run I resisted more and the corruption took longer, with more teasing, more “accidental” touches, more voyeur scenes in locker rooms and bathrooms, like the game was punishing me for not giving in fast enough by cranking up the sexual harassment.

It feels janky in spots. Some AI CGs look amazing from one angle and kind of cursed from another, like the face doesn’t fully match the body, or the hands are doing that weird too-many-fingers thing if you stare too long. I still stared. The summer vibe is weirdly relaxing though, all bright classrooms and sunlit corridors while behind the scenes you’re being turned into the school’s futa toy or the class’ shared virgin project, depending on choices. There is this one branching bit where you can agree to a “private tutoring” session with a strict female teacher and it starts as normal exam prep, then she makes you spread your legs on the chair, checks how wet you are “from stress,” and then uses you until you’re shaking, all while lecturing about responsibility. Female domination scenes like that felt personal, intimate in a fucked up way. Then later the same character can watch you get stuffed by multiple guys at once, barely saying anything, just writing notes like you’re a lab rat. It messed with my head in a good way.

The story is mostly kinetic in pacing but still manages to feel like a sandbox for your humiliation. One time I focused on being the perfect obedient girl and ended up pregnant from an exam “reward,” cum dripping out in a medical examination scene that treated your belly like a test result. Another time I pushed for more wild stuff and unlocked a futa transformation path, where you keep a cock while having this soft, thick ass and big boobs, so they test how many students can fit inside or around you at once. I still have the scene of being pushed up against the classroom window in my head, skirt hitched, some monster girl-looking classmate pounding me from behind while random NPCs walk outside, clueless. The game doesn’t rush those moments. It lets your thoughts spiral, your shame grow, your arousal betray you. It’s messy, inconsistent, a little ugly here and there, but the slow burn into full sissification and “everyone uses the exam girl” fantasy hits way harder because of that.