It’s messy in the best way. You’re some kind of half-drunk alchemist in a vampire’s den, tossing glowing ingredients into a cauldron that looks suspiciously alive, waiting to see if it spits out gold, slime, or a moaning succubus with tits like forbidden fruit. The game doesn’t explain much, just lets you mix weird shit - holy water, demon ichor, maybe a drop of your own sweat - and then bam, the screen flashes and suddenly you’re staring at a futa nun grinding against a bound werewolf priest. It’s ridiculous, but you can’t stop clicking. The logic makes no sense and that’s kind of the point. Sometimes you get a soft scene, a slow kiss between a vampire girl and her human pet. Other times, tentacles, everywhere, like the game’s trying to outdo itself in how far it’ll go before you blush or laugh.

There’s something about the tone - half gothic, half horny fever dream - that makes it feel like the devs were just daring each other to see what the next transmutation would unlock. The art shifts between elegant and unhinged; one moment you’re admiring the lighting on a pale thigh, next you’re staring at a corrupted angel with too many wings and not enough shame. The alchemy system feels more like foreplay than crafting. You think you’re mixing for power, but really you’re just chasing the next perverse reveal. I tried to keep track of the endings but gave up after the third one involved a talking dildo that might’ve been sentient.

The weirdest part? It’s kind of beautiful. Between the absurd fetishes and over-the-top transformations, there’s this pulse of dark humor and lust that keeps it alive. It’s not about winning or finishing - it’s about curiosity, that itch that says “what if I mix blood and holy oil again?” Do it. The game rewards the reckless.

Yuu looks like one of those quiet types you’d never notice in a crowd, but that’s the trick, isn’t it? The game doesn’t start with fireworks or any fancy menu music - it just drops you right into his head. You can almost feel how tense he is around Misaki, his little sister who’s too innocent for the filth swirling around her. It’s that kind of story where every click feels heavier than it should, because one wrong choice and things slide from tender to completely fucked-up. And they do. You think you’re protecting her, then suddenly the camera lingers too long, she’s asleep, breathing soft, and your cursor hesitates. It’s not subtle about temptation. The voyeurism here is dirty in a way that makes you feel complicit, like you’re peeking through a crack in a door you shouldn’t have opened.

The animation hits that weirdly realistic zone - not uncanny, just raw enough to make the moans stick in your ears. There’s this one scene where Yuu’s hand trembles before touching her thigh, and the sound design makes it worse, or better, depending on what you came for. When the blackmail angle kicks in, everything starts looping back: guilt, lust, anger, repeat. Some endings hit harder than expected - one actually made me shut my phone for a minute. Then I went back anyway. The multiple paths don’t feel like “good” or “bad” endings, more like different shades of corruption. You’ll probably hate yourself a bit, which is exactly why it works.

Weird thing - the romance thread actually lands emotionally once or twice, like when Misaki whispers his name during the sleep scene, half-awake, half-aware. It’s messed up and strangely intimate. You won’t find polished heroes or tidy morals here, just a slow descent wrapped in warm skin and bad decisions. Dare to play it alone, or invite company?

Zach is the kind of guy who knows the exact upload schedule of his favorite online dominatrix, but pretends he “just saw it in recommendations.” You know the type. One hand in his pants, the other on Reddit, arguing about whether hypnosis can actually turn a bratty dom into a drooling toy. Then one day he ends up with a real mind control helmet in his lap and Mistress Red tied to a chair in his crappy apartment, staring at him with that “I’d ruin your life for fun” look… and suddenly there’s no pause button. That’s pretty much the whole vibe here: you are sitting inside the head of a horny coward who just got god-level power and no emotional maturity to handle it. Sometimes he tries to be nice. Sometimes he absolutely does not. The game just quietly asks, “Alright quiz fans, A, B, C or D: do you fry her brain, make her your anal-obsessed house pet, or actually talk to her like a person?” and then watches what you click.

The kink stuff hits fast and messy in the best way. Once you get the helmet going, there are scenes where you stack triggers on her like you are building a cursed trivia scorecard. Say a word, watch her drop to her knees. Snap your fingers, she presents her ass, cheeks spread, no questions asked. There is this one moment where you tell her she can speak freely, then flip a suggestion so every time she tries to insult you, her mouth instead begs you to put a butt plug in and pull her hair. It feels gross and hot at the same time, like deleting your browser history right after you close Pornhub. Bondage is everywhere, but it is not just “shibari background decoration.” You actually watch Zach experiment. First he fumbles with ropes like a virgin trying to tie his first shoelace, then later he’s strapping her to a table, collar on, wrists locked, vibrator pressed against her clit, and she is moaning that she belongs to him while her eyes are dead and glossy from the hypnosis loop he ran twenty times in a row. And then you still get options to act like you are some moral hero. Which you are not. Not after what you did with that remote-controlled plug and her ass clenched so hard she almost snapped it in two during that “test run.”

I kind of love how the game lets domination swing both ways even when it feels unfair. Mistress Red is a pro dom, she knows her shit, and if you back off with the mind control or screw up a suggestion, she starts getting into your head instead. There is a route where you give her back some control, thinking, “Ok, redemption arc, I am a good person now,” and three scenes later she is the one using the helmet on you, making you kneel, edging you with a toy on your dick while she laughs and tells you exactly how pathetic your porn addiction is. That switch into female domination feels less like a clean route change and more like a trap you walked into because you wanted to feel less guilty. The game kind of quiet about it, but it really leans on that “who’s actually in charge here?” question. Also, the 3D style is a bit stiff in some angles, like weird elbow joints and one chair that looks like it was stolen from The Sims 2, and it annoyed me way more than it should. I kept staring at that chair during a really nasty anal scene where you’ve got her bent over it, drool on her chin, collar tight, her brain buzzing from post-hypnotic suggestions, and all I could think was “why is that texture so flat.” Anyway, between the mind control helmet, the moral illusions, the toys, and Zach trying to pretend he is not a villain while literally rewriting a woman’s brain, the whole thing feels like a dirty quiz where every answer is wrong but you still click 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.