Your boss finally notices you, but not for the reason you wanted. You bust your ass at work, grind through pointless meetings, kiss enough corporate ring that your tongue should get hazard pay, and it actually pays off. Promotion on the table, big project, all eyes on you. Then he invites you to his place to “celebrate the new chapter” and you’re already half thinking about LinkedIn flex posts in your head. Instead you walk in and meet the real final boss of the game: his wife, wrapped in a tight dress that looks painted on, tits practically spilling, eyes locked on you like you’re dessert she ordered for herself.

She doesn’t even try to hide it. From the moment she leans in a bit too close to pour you a drink, her huge chest brushing your arm, it’s this slow burn of “this is wrong” versus “this is hot as fuck”. The game leans hard into that quiet, private tension. Soft little smiles, hands lingering on your shoulder a bit too long, her bending over the table to pick something up and making sure you can’t miss her ass straining the fabric. There’s no instant jump to sex, it’s more like she keeps poking at the line and watching you twitch. She corners you in the kitchen, finger trailing along the glass, asking if you’ve “ever had a woman who knows what she wants”. Boss is in the next room, rambling about quarterly numbers, while his wife slowly closes the distance, eyes half-lidded, tongue wetting her lips. At some point she presses you against the counter, her tits pushed up against your chest, her hand sliding down, fingers teasing your crotch over your pants like it’s just casual fun. And you’re there thinking, “Say no, say no” while your body is screaming yes.

The corruption angle actually hits different because you’re not some loser with nothing to lose. You built your way up, you care about the job, and that makes every handjob under the table at dinner feel ten times more dangerous. There’s this one moment where she invites you to “help” her in the study while the boss is on a call. Door almost closed, just a crack open, and she drops to her knees in front of you so casually it feels like she’s done this before. She looks up at you while unzipping you, like she’s daring you to pull away, and of course you don’t. Warm mouth, slow strokes, her lipstick smearing on your skin while she moans around your cock, then wiping her mouth with this smug little smile and going back out like nothing happened. The teasing is constant. She texts you after, sending pics of her in nothing but an open shirt, tits barely contained, saying she’s “bored when hubby is at the office”. Some routes let you push her further, turning that sexy wife into someone who basically lives to sneak around behind his back with you, climbing into your lap, grinding that big ass against you while she whispers how her husband never fucks her like you do. And yeah, part of you knows this will wreck everything you’ve been working for, but by the time she’s riding you on his couch, soft moans mixing with the sound of her skin slapping on yours, nails digging into your shoulders, you’re way past pretending you’re the good guy anymore.

Emily is one of those girls you swear you met in college but can’t quite place. Smart enough, cute enough, a bit basic at first sight, then ten minutes later she’s torn between finishing her assignment and sending nudes to a guy she just met at a shitty bar. That’s basically the whole mood of this game: watching her pretend she has her shit together while you quietly push her toward being either the good girl her profs love or the slut the whole campus whispers about. You’re not some faceless god here, more like the nasty little voice in her head that tells her “eh, one more drink, what’s the worst that can happen?” and then suddenly she’s blowing a married teacher in a locked classroom with her panties stuffed in his pocket. The nice part is how small choices snowball. You tell her to “just flirt a bit” with the muscular black guy from her study group and later you’re sitting there like, okay, now she’s on her knees with mascara all over her face and a grin that basically screams ahegao thumbnail. And the game does not shy from showing you every messy angle of that.

What I liked is that it doesn’t scream “corruption route / pure route” at you in big neon text, but you feel it anyway. One night she’s crying in her room, hugging her phone, deciding if she should stay loyal to her sweet boring boyfriend, next night she’s in some shady hotel room doing live cam masturbation with a vibrator she bought with blackmail money. That jump feels wrong and hot at the same time. Stuff like voyeurism is slipped in almost casually: your choice to peek at someone in the dorm showers “just out of curiosity” suddenly turns into Emily realizing people are watching her too, and instead of freaking out she starts putting on a little stripper show, slow teasing, panties slid down just enough to get the viewer hooked. Then the game turns around and drops a soft romance scene where she’s half asleep, giving lazy oral to her guy in bed, nothing wild, just quiet and intimate, and you think maybe she can be normal. Ten minutes later she’s letting a milf neighbor “teach” her how to please older men and the whole thing feels like you scrolled too far on Pornhub and forgot to stop.

The school setting is used more like a pressure cooker than just a backdrop. You get those dumb normal scenes like group projects and cafeteria gossip, and then out of nowhere someone threatens to leak her nudes unless she “earns” their silence, and that opens the door to prostitution stuff that starts kinda tame and then gets dark. Not “torture porn” dark, more like “she smiles but you know she is owned now” dark. Some paths put Emily on top too, by the way. There is this one route where she figures out very fast that horny men are idiots and starts using female domination tricks on a nervous dilf teacher, making him pay for private “tutoring” while she toys with him using her mouth and then pulls back right before he finishes, total power trip. Sex toys show up in fun ways, not just “here is a dildo, click to use”. Like she goes from shy bedtime fingering to riding a buzzing plug during a serious class presentation, trying not to let the sound escape her lips while her classmates discuss something dumb like group theory. I’m still annoyed that one of the endings locked behind a really small choice about her outfit on the first day, I picked the sweater because I thought “ok, cozy” and then later figured out that the skimpy dress opens a whole extra blackmail chain I missed, but fine, that’s on me and my fake morals. The point is, Emily doesn’t just flip from saint to whore in one click. She slides, stumbles, laughs, cries, makes horrible decisions that you kind of pushed her into. And watching her cross those lines, one blowjob, one strip tease, one “accidental” creampie at a time, is where the entire thing really gets under your skin.

You wake up broke, horny, and back in your old room that still smells a bit like teenage shame and cheap body spray, and the game just kind of grins and says, “yeah, this is where it starts.” You’re this young psychology guy who thought he had life sorted, then it all collapses and you crawl back to mom’s house. Only mom isn’t just “mom” anymore. She’s this thick, soft, dangerous kind of beautiful, the kind that makes your eyes slide over her curves against your will. She walks around the house in clothes that hug her huge tits and that insane ass in a way no actual mother should, bending over the couch while you pretend to look away and fail every single time. The camera loves her, almost too much. It lingers on the subtle stuff, the underwear line digging into her hips, the way her nipple outline threatens to show when she moves. You’re supposed to feel guilty. You don’t. Or you do, but it just makes your dick harder. It’s that kind of story.

Then there are the sisters, and yeah, the game knows exactly what it’s doing. The older one moves like a witch who realized she can control a room just by existing. Goth clothes, dark nails that look like they’d hurt when she scratches your back, eyes that tell you she thinks you’re trash but her body keeps betraying her, slower each day. There’s this moment where you “accidentally” walk in while she’s bent over her desk in fishnets, headphones in, skirt just not quite long enough, and the main character just stands there too long while you feel his thoughts going places they absolutely shouldn’t. Later, when the hypnosis angle really kicks in, watching her resist you with this mix of hatred and arousal, hips still grinding in spite of her words, that’s where the corruption hits harder than any sex scene. She spits insults while she rides your cock, then trembles when you ask her who owns that tight ass now, and her voice breaks on the answer. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. It’s both at once. The younger sister is the opposite weather: all pastel pink, soft hair, candy wrappers, plush toys, girly socks that should not look so good wrapped around your waist. She trusts you way too much. She curls against you during a movie, her small tits brushing your arm, and the game slows the moment just enough that you feel that sharp, dirty edge when your hand lingers longer than it should on her thigh. Later, with the mind control, teaching her to touch herself on command, watching her bite her lip while she obeys, that’s the point where “romance” and “corruption” almost merge into this twisted little love story that you’re not sure you’re supposed to enjoy so much.

The hypnotherapist is the real doorway drug. Mom’s friend, older but still tight where it counts, eyes that see too much and voice that rolls over you like warm honey. You sit in her office as “assistant,” pretending to take notes while she drops other women into deep trance, fingers playing with their minds and their bodies at the same time, and you’re there, hard under the desk, memorizing every word, every pattern. There’s a point when she leans down behind a patient and guides the girl’s mouth on a toy, whispering triggers, and your brain just goes click. After that, going home feels different. Sleeping bodies don’t feel safe anymore. The game leans into sleep sex in a way that’s almost too intimate. Like, you stand over your mom’s bed at night, listening to her slow breathing, watching her tits rise and fall under the thin fabric, and one tiny suggestion you planted earlier makes her legs spread a little. She mumbles your name in her sleep while you slide your hand under her panties and the guilt is there, but it’s distant, like a voice behind glass. Same with the sisters, those late-night scenes where the younger one is half-asleep, squirming and moaning softly as your fingers tease her soaked slit, or the older one clenching around your cock in her sleep, cursing you in her dreams while her body begs for more. The game doesn’t flinch from that dirty intimacy. It loves deepthroats that go too far, tears at the corner of her eyes, spit and mascara mess. It loves big tits bouncing while you fuck them, cocks sliding between them until you paint her chest white. It loves asses, god, the asses: thick ebony hips, mom’s juicy milf curves, your sister’s perfect goth bubble butt stretched around your shaft when you finally push into her tight hole and she squirts all over the sheets. Anal, vaginal, titfucks, creampies that drip out slowly while she walks around the house pretending nothing happened. Sex toys buzzing between thighs, collars and ropes appearing on the “good girl” routes that still somehow pretend to be romantic. There’s a weird tenderness under all that filth too, like when you watch your own cum slowly swell inside a belly on the pregnancy scenes, or when a character you’ve completely twisted still smiles at you like you’re her whole world. It’s wrong. It’s beautiful in a fucked way. It feels like you’re building a harem out of people who were once your family, your patients, your lovers, turning them into obedient, wet puppets and devoted partners at the same time, and the game just lets you keep going, deeper, softer, nastier, never really asking you to justify any of it. I just wish the text messages inside the game didn’t use that ugly default pop-up style, it pulls you out for a second, but then somebody drops to their knees, takes you so deep they choke, and suddenly you forget you were annoyed at all.

Guy just wants some cold air and maybe a drink, ends up trapped in the quietest, horniest little horror-comedy grocery store on earth. That’s the vibe here. You walk in, sun burning your brain, and suddenly the outside world just kind of... blinks out. The door locks, shelves feel slightly wrong, lights flicker like they’re trying to flirt, and there she is behind the counter: tiny goth clerk with a stare like she already knows exactly how weak you are. Not the cliché latex dominatrix thing, more like “sleep-deprived art major who could crush your soul with one sarcastic comment” mixed with “MILF energy in training,” if that makes sense. Big tits under a cheap t‑shirt, jeans, zero effort styling, but somehow she looks like a walking fetish ad that forgot to be subtle.

The weird part is, nothing technically “happens.” No actual sex, no naked bodies flying around, nobody jumping your dick. It’s all edging, all mind games, like the game is blueballing you on purpose and laughing. She’ll lean over the counter just a little too far, bend down to grab something so her ass lines up perfectly with your eyes, stretch like she’s in a yoga ad, then act like you’re the creep for looking. She calls you out for every tiny reaction, every stolen glance, like she’s reading your browser history in real time. At one point she casually drops a line about how “guys like you are easy to rewire” and the screen does this tiny flicker and yeah, you feel it. Not jump scare, more like you skipped a frame in your own head. You’re not sure if she’s hypnotic or just really good at gaslighting, but you start clicking through lines faster, waiting for some kind of payoff that never quite lands. It’s a kinetic novel, so no choices, no branches, you’re just strapped into her vibe. That’s kinda annoying and kinda perfect. You keep thinking “ok, next scene she’s gonna finally do something,” and instead she just mocks you, teases harder, leans in with that bored stare and explains exactly how she could make you crawl with a single word. Then nothing. Then a joke. Then she looks straight at you again and tells you you’re breathing too loud.

What got me is how the voyeurism hits without any peepholes or secret cams. You’re just there, stuck, watching her do normal clerk stuff while she very obviously watches you watching her. It flips around, like you become the thing on display. She wipes down the counter real slow, checks her phone, pops gum, types something you can’t see, then smiles in that “yeah, I just changed something in your brain” way. At one point she makes you read signs on the wall, stupid boring rules, but the text starts feeling like commands, like she’s training a dog. She never raises her voice, never goes full “kneel, worm” mode, but you still feel dominated, like your dick is on a leash you can’t see. The humor is messed up in a good way too; she’ll roast your porn tastes, call out your search terms, then switch to dead-serious for two lines and talk about control and consent like a late-night TED talk in a haunted 7‑Eleven, then immediately ask if you’re thirsty. Zero subtle transition. The art is rough but kinda perfect for it, she’s cute and a little off-model from scene to scene, which almost sells the idea your memory is being edited. There’s no big climax, no “and then you bang her” scene, it just leaves you horny, slightly confused, and lowkey worried she’s going to show up in your dreams and make you apologize for scrolling Twitter during the dialogue.

Plague in the kingdom, king on his throne shitting himself in fear, and you, the poor bastard who has to walk into a cursed forest with a cute elf wife who is way too good for you. That is the whole mood of Cursed Forest Quest – you are technically the hero, but it always feels like the story is asking what happens if the hero is soft, horny, and just a bit unlucky. Vallabelle, your elven wife, is the kind priestess type with huge tits, a perfect ass that does not make physical sense for an elf, and a smile that makes you think “ok, she is totally loyal, it’s fine” while the game quietly laughs in the background. The early scenes sell this perfect couple thing hard: sharing a campfire, she heals your wounds, teases you with a slow handjob as a reward for surviving the day, rides you with that soft priestess moaning, and you think, alright, wholesome, I can relax. Then the forest basically says, no, fuck you, this is a cursed land, and starts poking that little insecurity in your brain every time some other guy looks at her for more than two seconds.

What I liked too much, embarrassingly, is how the game uses “small” moments to kick you in the balls. For example, first time you get to a ruined shrine, there is a choice: go search for relics, or send Vallabelle to talk with the local spirit while you check the perimeter. I just clicked through, not thinking, checked a bush that had literally nothing important, and when I came back, the scene cut to Vallabelle slightly flushed, her robe messed up, her tits kind of out, spirit fading away, and her going “it’s fine, just a blessing.” That moment stuck in my head longer than the full-on vaginal scenes. Not even a big animation there, only small touches, like her avoiding eye contact. Later on there is an actual animated scene with her getting pounded against a forest altar, ass bouncing, moans way louder than anything she ever did for you, and that felt almost less cruel than that earlier half-harassment vibe, where you are not sure what happened but your dick and your stomach both react. By the way, the spanking stuff is weirdly casual here. Sometimes you get to spank her playfully as a “punishment” for teasing you in front of a guard, and she giggles and presses that big ass into your hand. Another time, some other guy does a very similar smack, and suddenly the camera lingers way too long, and she bites her lip in a way she never did for you. I hated that. I also replayed that branch three times to see if her expression changes with different quest choices. It barely does, which somehow turns me on more. The game likes to pretend you have control with all the quests and paths, and yeah, there are multiple endings and all, but honestly half the fun is realizing you clicked yourself into a timeline where you are basically watching your own wife get more “blessed” by the forest than cured. I wish there was a path where you could fully stay pure and keep her untouched, but also I really don’t, and it will never happen anyway.

Ella is a problem. The good kind of problem, the one your cock and your curiosity both say yes to before your brain even catches up. She’s a futa with a mouth that never shuts up, in a jungle that doesn’t give a fuck if she’s tired or horny or “on a mission.” She’s supposed to find this magic flower, some legendary thing everyone talks about like it’s the only thing that matters. And then she runs into these monster girls and suddenly the flower is not really the main thing anymore. Or it is. Or it’s just the excuse for everything she does after.

What hit me first is how the game really leans into teasing before it lets anything explode. Ella talks her way into trouble instead of fighting out of it. One moment she flirts with a monster girl with this fake innocent smile, touching her arm “by accident,” the next moment you’re watching her hand slowly slide over to that thick thigh. It’s that slow burn that fucked me up a bit. The monster girls are not just standing there like dolls either. They watch her. They stare at her body. There is this one scene where Ella pretends to be hurt and falls in a way that her clothes ride up just a bit too much, and you can almost feel their eyes on her ass like it’s something holy and dirty at the same time. It’s funny because I thought I just came here to fap and then suddenly I’m out here caring if she gets that flower or gets fucked into the ground first. She’s got big tits that are basically their own characters, and when someone grabs them, it looks like that moment has weight. There’s a lot of oral stuff, and I liked how the game doesn’t rush the first time Ella goes down on a monster girl. You see that hesitation, like she’s half doing it for the mission and half doing it because she really wants to taste her. And then she gets into it way too much for “just business.” The voyeur feeling is strong too. More than once you’re just watching from the side, like you’re in the bushes, seeing hands explore, lips kissing spots they shouldn’t, clothes pushed aside instead of neatly taken off. It feels messy in a good way. Mostly.

The art is 2D but not trying to be some perfect painting. Sometimes tits look a little too round, sometimes an angle is weird, and honestly that makes it feel more like some horny artist going all in instead of a sterile studio thing. I loved that. And at the same time I hated that one of Ella’s expressions keeps repeating in a serious scene and I couldn’t stop noticing it. The lesbian scenes with her and monster girls have this greedy energy, like both of them try to see who makes the other moan first, who gives in. Then when she uses her cock, it changes completely. Suddenly she’s the one pushing someone against the tree, sliding in slow, talking shit in their ear. My favorite tiny, stupid detail: the way their fingers dig into her ass when she thrusts, like they’re holding on so she doesn’t pull away. It’s such a small thing but it stayed in my head longer than the big “climax” moment. Story wise, it’s an adventure that keeps pretending it’s about this mystical bloom, but you know damn well it’s actually about Ella using her charm, her dick, her mouth, whatever she has, to bend this monster-filled jungle around her. The voyeur vibe, the teasing, the groping, all that builds up like fate is pushing her to meet exactly these girls in exactly this place. I like to think Destiny wanted this filth to happen. Or maybe I just want to believe that kind of thing exists, even in porn games on my phone while I should be doing something else.

Maya is a mess in the most relatable way. Girl wakes up horny, goes to class horny, comes back home even more horny, and half of the time she’s not even enjoying it, just zoning out with porn on her phone, doomscrolling Twitter between strokes, thinking about deadlines while fingering herself again. That kind of depressing, way-too-real masturbation loop. Then suddenly Heaven basically kicks down the door of her burnout life and tells her, “Congrats, you’re a chosen warrior, also your magic wand is that massive futa cock you keep failing to jerk off properly.” It sounds like a joke, but the game commits to it so hard it starts feeling weirdly earnest. One moment she’s choking on her own anxiety, the next she’s in a ruined chapel blasting horny demon girls with holy spells powered by edging herself. It absolutely should not work, and somehow it does.

What really hooked me is how it swings between horny clown mode and those quiet, uncomfortable scenes where Maya tries to act like a normal college student and just fails. You get her standing in a crowded hallway, clutching her phone, praying no one notices the bulge in her leggings while her “guardian angel” is whispering in her ear that she needs to go hunt succubi after midterms. Then cut to her in a forest, pants half-open, using her cock like a staff while a tentacled monstergirl coils around her legs and keeps trying to force a “you came, you lose” deal. The combat is turn based, but the rhythm of it feels more like edging than strategy: buff, tease, stall, big climax attack, try not to blow your load too early because you actually need that mana for the second phase. I like how blunt it is about failure too. Lose a fight, and you’re not just “defeated,” you’re getting milked, fucked, drained, creampied, used as a toy by whatever perverted thing you picked a fight with. Then you wake up back in your dorm like it was “just a dream,” still sticky, trying to pretend you’re fine on your way to group project meeting.

The sex is very “no modesty at all” in the best way. Maya titfucking older milfs that were supposed to be respectable professors, grinding her huge cock between their tits while they pretend it’s still about “extra credit.” Oral scenes where she’s deepthroated by a demon with a halo, or doing the choking herself during a sloppy blowjob behind a campus building, leaving mascara stains and cum streaks on the brick wall. Anal, vaginal, quick handjobs in weird places, masturbation scenes where she’s hunched over her phone in the bathroom trying not to moan as notification sounds keep popping off. And yeah, there are tender moments in all that filth. Monster girls that start as enemies turning into awkward half-friends you can date, sleep with, creampie, then actually talk to about your anxiety. One of my favorite bits is this goofy “training” session that just turns into mutual masturbation under glowing angel sigils on the ceiling while lo-fi style fantasy music loops in the background. It’s trashy, it’s horny, it’s often sad in a way that hits way too close to real mental health shit, and then suddenly you’re laughing because some demon just called her “Heaven’s cum cannon” and it actually kind of fits.

Doom finally stops playing the Saturday morning cartoon villain and starts doing the dirty work everybody always joked he was doing off screen. "Behind the Doom" is basically what happens when a control freak supergenius decides world domination is fine, but ruining Susan Storm’s life from the inside out feels a lot better. It’s a slow burn kind of filth. At the start he’s showing off his shiny Latverian utopia, talking like some tech bro on a TED talk, pretending he cares about peace and progress. Underneath that armor he just wants one thing: Susan kneeling between his legs, wedding ring and heroic ideals both slipping off at the same time. You go from stiff political speeches to her staring up at him with drool on her chin and mascara running, and it somehow feels like a natural career path.

What I liked is that the game doesn’t rush to the hardcore. It lets Susan still believe she’s the good guy for a bit. She thinks she’s just “investigating” Doom, helping the world, being responsible. Then he starts playing with her invisibility in the most perverted ways. Ordering her to suck him off while she’s half invisible, so only her lips and tongue are visible wrapping around his cock, the rest of her fading in and out like she’s glitching from shame. There’s this one scene where he makes her hide under a table while a big diplomatic meeting goes on above, and her job is just to keep him hard with her mouth the whole time. The camera keeps jumping from the stone serious political chat to her swollen, stretched lips working on him under the armor. That moment stuck with me more than the flashy stuff, honestly. It’s the casual way he treats her like a background function now, like breathing or blinking.

Then the game remembers there are other heroines to break and just casually drops Scarlet Witch into the mess, like “oh yeah, magic slut, forgot about her.” Wanda starts as this smug powerhouse, acting like she’s above his tech, and two scenes later she’s helping him train Susan, rewriting her own morals while he rewrites her body. When they both end up on their knees, trading his cock between their mouths, Wanda using her powers to hold Susan’s hands behind her back so she can’t even stop herself from pushing deeper, it’s completely degenerate in the best way. Anal stuff hits harder than I expected too; Doom doesn’t go straight for brute-force pain, he makes it a reward, a “promotion” in his twisted little company. The first time he takes Susan’s ass, he does it on a balcony overlooking his perfect city, making her watch the peaceful streets while he grinds her open, whispering how this is what real stability looks like: her bent over, his cock buried in her, invisible or not, everyone beneath them belonging to him. It’s not subtle, it’s not romantic, it’s just cynical, nasty corruption porn with capes, and it works way better than it has any right to.

Malcolm is the kind of guy you scroll past in real life without even noticing. Skinny, nervous, always a little hunched like the world is too loud for him. The game just throws you into his messy life in Walkerville, this weirdly normal Texas town that keeps acting like it’s hiding something behind every white picket fence and church smile. He lives with his mom and his sisters, and yeah, the game does not pretend that everyone’s thoughts are pure. It starts small. A door not fully closed when his older sister changes, that one innocent towel slip that lingers a bit too long, a late night where he “accidentally” opens the wrong room and just stands there, watching, hand already twitching toward his crotch before you even realize you clicked. The voyeur stuff creeps in quiet, like it was always there and the game just lets you stop pretending.

What surprised me is how it mixes dumb horny jokes with moments that feel kind of raw. Malcolm wants to stop being this loser and “be alpha” or whatever, but you see him in front of his laptop, porn tabs open, jerking off to the thought of his own mother bending over the laundry basket, big ass filling the screen, and you can feel how pathetic he knows he is. The game lets you push him further. You decide if he keeps watching from the crack of the door or actually walks in when his busty mom is stretched over the couch, panties riding up, asking for “a quick back rub” that your brain instantly twists into something else. It’s dirty in a way that feels almost too close, like browsing Pornhub in a private tab and suddenly stumbling on that one “mom” actress that reminds you of someone you know. You can focus on straight stuff if you want, just tits, pussies, toys, bare skin under flimsy house clothes, that kind of thing. Or you poke into the futa / trans side of town, which the game flags clearly so you don’t wander into it by accident, and there’s this odd thrill when a girl you thought was just a cute neighbor ends up pulling out something thick and throbbing from under her skirt while still having soft curves and a wet, tight pussy. It makes Malcolm freak out a bit, and it kind of made me do the same, in a good way.

Scenes play out slowly, with that visual novel pacing where you click through every little smirk and every bad joke he throws out when he’s nervous. Sometimes it works, like when his milf mom calls him out for staring and you can either chicken out or double down and compliment her tits in this awkward, blunt way that somehow gets her blushing instead of slapping him. Other times it drags on while you just want to reach the moment where she wraps her lips around his cock or grinds her big ass against him in the kitchen and “accidentally” rubs the tip against her soaked panties. There is this one masturbation scene with his younger sister, caught on a half-broken phone camera in the bathroom mirror, where she thinks nobody is home and spreads herself on the sink, one hand on her clit, the other holding a cheap toy she probably ordered from Amazon. That part stuck with me way more than I expected. Not even the nudity, but the way she looks around, bites her lip, keeps whispering Malcolm’s name like she hates herself for it. The humor cuts through sometimes, with him making stupid inner comments while jerking to his own family, but then in the next click his cock is out in his room and he is stroking himself raw, trying not to moan too loud while listening to muffled sounds through the wall. It is messy, horny, a bit trashy, and doesn’t really care about being “nice”. Which kind of fits this town full of smiling faces and very dirty secrets, all waiting for Malcolm to stop pretending he is just a passive loser and start fucking his way into the role he keeps dreaming about.

Lena looks like the kind of girl who should be in some boring office job, not standing half naked in a sweat-soaked ring with some psycho redhead trying to choke her out while the crowd yells for more tits. That clash is what makes this game hit different. You don’t start as some overpowered porn goddess, you start as a broke girl stuck in a shit city, dragged into sexfights because her idiot dad couldn’t stay away from cards. New Ipswich feels like one of those places from a trashy crime anime that never got a second season: neon, sleaze, and everyone pretending this is “just business” while they bet on who gets fucked on the mat. The whole sexfighting thing sounds silly on paper, then you’re in your first real match, Lena’s breathing heavy, sweat on her skin, the other girl grabbing her hair, and suddenly the humiliation hits harder than the punches. Either you dominate, or you get used. It’s that simple and that messed up.

The fights are not just button mashing. You switch from strikes and holds into sex moves so fast it feels illegal. One second you’re working a clinch, next second the crowd is chanting for Lena to “open up” and you actually consider it because if she goes full tease, she can flip the mental game. Let an enemy strip her top off in front of the audience and the shame drains her focus, but if you time it right and Lena turns it around, pins the girl, crotch grinding on her face, forcing her to lick while the camera zooms in on every wet detail, suddenly she’s the one owning the exhibition. I had this one match where I played it “nice” for too long, tried to win clean with jabs and throws, and the rival just snapped, mounted Lena, shoved fingers in her, rode her to a sloppy creampie in front of everyone and then walked off like she just claimed a trophy. I actually paused and stared at the screen like: “ok, that escalated.” It’s rude in a good way. Or a bad way. Depends how broken you are.

What caught me off guard is how the game leans into both sides of domination without pretending they are equal. Sometimes Lena is on top, literally sitting on a girl’s face, grabbing her hair, forcing her to eat her out while flashing her big tits to the crowd like she owns the whole damn city. Sometimes it flips and a bigger fighter or some smug guy just treats her like a toy, using her throat, pushing past her limits, making her cum against her will, then leaving her on the sticky canvas with that dazed, fucked-out look. The humiliation is not soft either. They taunt, spit, pull her legs open, finish inside her while the gamblers laugh, and the game just quietly nudges you like: “hey, she still has debts to pay.” It even has these quiet moments in the locker room after, where Lena is leaning against the wall, thighs still trembling, and you’re picking what she does next, who she confronts, whether she chases power or just survives. It almost feels romantic sometimes when she faces another girl who clearly wants her as much as she wants to win, tongue tangled with knuckles, lesbian heat right in the middle of a dirty brawl. Then some asshole promoter reminds you she’s just another body to bet on and the mood dies. That’s kind of the charm though: nothing is clean here. Sex is a weapon, a punishment, a reward, and half the time Lena’s not sure which one she’s holding.