Okay so first thing - Clara's transformations are absolutely wild and completely caught me off guard. I mean, I went in expecting some standard dating sim stuff with childhood friend Nala moving in, maybe some typical romance routes, but holy shit when Clara starts appearing... her body changes are genuinely unsettling in the best possible way. Like, we're talking complete physical metamorphosis that made me question what I was even looking at. The AI-generated visuals actually work really well here because there's this uncanny valley effect that makes her supernatural presence feel legitimately creepy. I spent way too much time trying to figure out if there was a pattern to when she'd show up, and honestly the randomness makes it worse in a good way.

The desire system is pretty straightforward - you build up points with Nala through conversations and choices, unlock new outfits for her (and trust me, they're worth it), but the real hook is how the game constantly pulls you between moving forward with this sweet childhood friend setup and getting dragged back into trauma with Clara. Alan's just this regular dude stuck in a dead-end job, which makes the supernatural horror elements hit harder. One minute you're having a normal conversation about breakfast, next minute Clara's there looking like something from a fever dream. The affinity tracking gets complicated because sometimes being nice to Nala feels like betraying Clara's memory, even though she's literally haunting you.

What really gets me is how the game doesn't let you forget about Clara even when you're trying to focus on Nala's route. She'll just appear during intimate moments, completely transformed, and suddenly you're dealing with guilt and supernatural terror while trying to romance your childhood friend. The big tits and ass tags are definitely accurate for Nala's scenes, but Clara's transformations go way beyond normal proportions into genuinely disturbing territory. I keep going back trying different dialogue choices to see if I can somehow save both relationships, but the game seems determined to make you choose between healing and obsession.

New city, new gym, whole building full of girls with claws, tails, extra ears and way too much ass packed into tight sport shorts. You play the guy who owns the place, the “responsible” gym instructor who swears it’s a safe space and not a walking fetish trap, then the first thing you do is watch a sweaty lamia try to fit her giant snake body on a treadmill that was never built for that. The game just throws you into this weird cozy fantasy where every monster girl is pretending it’s just about fitness, while you and them keep eyeing those bouncing tits in the mirror like nobody notices. It feels like a normal gym management RPG at first: you plan sessions, pick training routines, mess with stats, keep an eye on money and equipment. Then you realize each session is basically an excuse to get closer and closer until your “stretching assistance” is just your hands sliding way too low on her hips while she pretends it’s part of the program.

What really got me hooked is how personal the training becomes. You are not just clicking “do squats”. You choose how hard you push them, if you praise or tease, if you focus on strength, stamina, or just making them feel sexy as hell in those tight sport uniforms. One time I decided to be super strict with a shy catgirl who kept hiding her huge chest under baggy clothes. I pushed her with brutal cardio, barely letting her rest. By the end she’s drenched, shirt stuck to her skin, nipples poking through, and she’s staring at you with that mix of “I hate you” and “please don’t stop”. Another time I did the opposite with a tall, smug cow girl. I kept giving her “breaks”, helping her stretch, holding her from behind while she bent over, letting my hands “accidentally” rest on her thick thighs. She knew what I was doing. She leaned her heavy tits back on my chest and asked if that counted as core training.

The sandbox part hits pretty hard. You control schedule, who gets attention, what parts of the gym you upgrade. Do you unlock more public areas where other monster girls can watch each other work out, all that voyeur energy, or do you focus on private rooms where the moans echo against the walls and no one complains? I like when the gym gets busy and you walk through the floor, just clicking on whoever catches your eye: a wolf girl doing squats, ass popping out of her shorts, tail twitching like she’s horny already; a slim bunny girl trying to keep up with heavy weights because she wants a rounder ass and you stand behind her, every rep pushing her closer to you; a proud demon girl who pretends she doesn’t care about “romance” but blushes like crazy when you praise her body. Sometimes the AI art looks a bit off if you stare too long, like an extra finger or weird angle, but honestly the sweat, the flushed faces, the giant tits straining against sports bras, it all sells the fantasy so hard I stopped caring.

There’s a romance angle, yeah, but it’s the obsessive kind if you play it like that. You can focus on one girl, stalk her routine, always being there to “help” only her, tuning her training just for your tastes. You make her stronger while also making sure her curves stay huge, and she starts relying on you emotionally, not just physically. Or you can be a slutty trainer, spreading your attention, making them all a bit too attached, jealous when they see you correcting someone else’s posture from behind. I liked when one of them walked in on me mid “private stretching” with another girl and the dialogue got all passive-aggressive, but nobody actually left. Just silence, heavy breathing, and you in the middle of all that monster girl drama, pretending you are still just a gym owner and not the biggest pervert in the building.

You know that awful feeling when your phone buzzes, you open the chat, and you’re not sure if you even want to scroll up because you already feel something’s wrong? This game lives inside that feeling. You play as Eddie, normal guy, married, kind of worn out by life, stuck in this shitty loop of work, stress, debt, and a dick that just refuses to cooperate when you actually need it. The whole thing plays out mostly through chats and phone stuff, so you’re basically spying on your own life. Messages, pictures, little bits of “hey babe, miss you” turning into “hey, I’m working late” and then into things you really don’t want to see your wife sending to someone else. And still you keep tapping, because of course you do.

Rachel starts as that sweet, supportive wife who just wants to help, who wants her man back, wants sex that isn’t awkward and half-hearted. The game doesn’t jump straight into filth. It teases you. She takes small jobs, chats with new people, gets “friendly” with that one guy who compliments her more in two texts than Eddie managed in a whole week. You see her selfies get a bit bolder. At first it’s cute. She’s shy, a bit embarrassed, but she sends that “accidental” cleavage pic and you feel both proud and a bit sick. Then the pictures get dirtier. The emojis change. The typing pauses get longer. The game really likes to make you stare at the screen waiting for three dots, wondering if she’s going to send something soft or something that will make you want to punch the wall and jerk off at the same time.

Sex scenes here are mostly in your head and on the phone screen, twisted together. When she’s playing with herself, you don’t just see her; you see the messages that pushed her there. Some random guy hyping her up, telling her how wet she must be, asking for “proof”, and she actually sends it. You get AI-style images that look like those edited photos you see on Telegram porn channels, slightly too clean, but the situation around them is messy as fuck. There’s cheating, voyeurism, corruption, all that good painful stuff. You read how she describes your failures in bed while you’re the one stuck watching and masturbating like some pathetic cuck who can’t even look away. The worst part is how normal it all feels. No magic, no mind control. Just money problems, stress, one dude with a working dick and another with a nice salary and a smooth tongue, and a woman who gets tired of waiting. The story doesn’t need big twists. It just pokes at those ugly relationship fears until they get horny, then keeps going a bit too far. You know it’s going to hurt. You still open the next chat. And the next picture. And the next.

FSS Lamashtu feels like somebody mashed up a cold war naval thriller with a filthy space brothel and then forgot which part was supposed to be serious. You’re the freshly minted captain of this “experimental cruiser” that is absolutely not built for exploration, unless you count exploring how many holes your crew can take in a single patrol. Officially it’s the proud weapon of the Alliance, last hope in a long-ass war. Unofficially it’s your floating fuck-lab, staffed with officers who look like they came out of a horny AI art generator after you typed “war crime but sexy” too many times. The ship layout screen is almost a character by itself: bridge, medbay, cargo, those little tucked-away compartments you quickly learn are perfect for “private disciplinary sessions.” You jump between menus pretending to care about fleet orders, but the only thing you actually remember is which corridor you cornered that technician in when she kept “accidentally” brushing her giant tits against you.

The story likes to pretend it’s about geopolitics and rebellion, and sometimes it even tricks you. You’ll get this long briefing about the Neo-Terran strategic line, convoy raids, morale of the Alliance, all that stuff. Then two clicks later, you’re watching a proud enemy pilot on her knees, mascara running, mouth full of cum while she tries to spit out her rank and serial number. The tone whiplash is almost funny. There’s a certain charm in how the game refuses to pick a lane: you capture prisoners, you break them in slowly or just slam straight into collar-and-chain slavery, you’re supposed to feel the “moral weight” of it, but the next scene has them begging for anal like they read the script ahead of time. The AI CG does that exaggerated wetness thing, where every hole looks like you dumped a bucket of lube on it, and every creampie is this ridiculous white flood that should qualify as a bio-weapon. Sometimes the faces twist into that extreme, over-the-top ahegao that doesn’t even look human anymore, more like a melted idol poster, and it somehow fits this world where war propaganda and porn have fused into one genre.

What sticks in my mind most is how physical the ship starts to feel. You’re not just choosing sex options, you’re shaping routines. That science officer who starts with stiff posture and carefully zipped uniform? A few “private evaluations” in your quarters, and suddenly she’s walking around with visible bite marks on her neck, trying not to react when you casually grope her in front of others. There’s a scene in the hangar where two captured enemy girls are supposed to be processed for interrogation, and you can decide if that means basic questions or “group demonstration of Alliance hospitality.” The way their bodies are posed, covered in semen from multiple angles, has that bukkake ritual vibe, everyone participating because the war needs “unity.” You get toy usage too, not just as accessories but as tools of control: a vibrator left inside during a formal strategy meeting, the slow dawning horror on your new slave’s face when she realizes the remote is in your pocket while admirals talk about casualties. The game never really resolves whether you’re a genius commander or just a sex-obsessed tyrant who got lucky with experimental hardware. At some point there’s a tender-ish lesbian moment tucked awkwardly between brutal scenes, two crew girls comforting each other after a mission, fingers exploring, tongues slow and hesitant, and for once you’re not in the frame at all. It feels almost like the game forgot its own premise for a second, then remembers, throws you back into forced deepthroat in a dark interrogation room, and moves on like nothing happened.