Office job, boring life, same cheap instant coffee every morning, and then suddenly your dick is gone and your ass looks like something from those Twitter thirst posts. That is the vibe here. One day you are this invisible drone in a suit, the kind of guy no one remembers in the elevator, next day you wake up with tits that do not fit your old shirt and the whole city looking at you like fresh meat on sale. It is not some noble magical destiny thing either. It feels dirty and mean in a good way. People around you start pushing, touching, “helping” you adjust to your new body. Some are sweet, some are creepy as hell, half of them want to get inside your pants, the other half want to own you. And you can lean into it. Or pretend you are not into it while your clothes keep getting shorter.

The nice thing is that nothing is clean cut. You can be that shy mess who blushes when a girl kisses your neck in the bathroom stall or let yourself get dragged into a backroom and end the night with smeared lipstick and sore knees. There is this one early scene that sold me: you are in a crowded bar, still not used to walking in heels, trying to keep your new boobs from jumping out of the dress someone “helped” you choose. Some office colleague who barely talked to you before corners you at the bar, offers a drink, hand on your hip, fingers slowly sliding lower. You can shove him off, play along to get something out of him, or just let him use your mouth right there while people pretend not to look. And it is not just straight trashy stuff either. The girls in this game are dangerous. One of the women at work, proper milf with that strict boss energy, takes you “for coffee” and suddenly you are on your knees between her thighs in a locked conference room, her nails in your hair, telling you this is the only way to keep your new position. Felt like someone recorded a Pornhub Premium audition and turned it into a choice. I was lowkey impressed and also annoyed because the text box covers part of her face and it drives me crazy every single time.

It pretends to be a romantic thing sometimes, with all these dating bits and little stats going up, but under the sugar it is pure corruption. The game loves putting you in situations where you say “just this once” and five minutes later you are the office slut everyone gropes when the lift door closes. One path had me playing nice with this nerdy girl who seems harmless, then she shows up in full cosplay at a convention, ropes you into a couple costume, and suddenly she is sliding her hand under your skirt in a crowded hallway, whispering how no one will notice if you stay quiet. Another time I went the total bimbo route, jacking up every sexy option, getting pumped full of “vitamins,” brain getting softer, outfits getting tighter, ending up on my back with a small crowd taking turns while someone records it on their phone. It is filthy, it is messy, text sometimes stumbles like my own ESL brain, and the AI-style art can look a bit cursed on hands if you stare too long, but somehow that fits the whole “your life is spiraling out of control” feeling. I kept telling myself I would play the classy path, no weird power games, no blackmail, and ten clicks later I am signing a shady contract while a guy has his fingers inside me under the desk and my so-called “friend” is snapping pics in the corner like it is no big deal. Anyway, I’m absolutely not addicted, I can quit after just one more scene.

There’s this weird horny comfort in the way the Academy feels both serious and completely trashy at the same time. You’re “the doctor”, the last one not dead or infected, but the game doesn’t really care about making you feel noble. It cares about putting you in a magic school full of witches who somehow always need physical exams that turn into groping, massages that slide into fingering, “magical checkups” where you’re basically encouraged to stare at their tits while pretending it’s clinical. The virus plot is just enough to make everyone act desperate. Girls knock on your door like, “Professor, I think the curse is spreading to my chest…” and yeah, you know very well what the dev wants you to click next. You walk around the academy, check the schedule, manage who gets what treatment, but really it feels like you are managing how quickly they lose their shame. There’s a management system tied to supplies and research and all that, but half the time you’re just min-maxing how many excuses you can get to see another girl undress for “testing”. It’s trashy in a way that actually feels honest.

The real hook for me is how much it leans into voyeur stuff without making it the whole point. There’s this scene early on where you discover a hidden passage that looks like it was built just for perverts long before you were born. Tiny slits in the wall, right into the girls’ bath, or the dorm showers, or the practice rooms where they do “focus exercises” completely naked because “fabric interferes with mana flow”. You can stand there, in the dark corridor, watching this one redhead witch practicing spells while she fingers herself to “charge the ritual”. You’re supposed to collect data about symptoms, but the game actually tracks how long you keep spying. The more you peek, the more the story bends toward corruption. It never tells you directly, but you start feeling that the academy itself is kind of alive, feeding on exhibitionism. One girl starts pretending she doesn’t see you, even though she clearly looks at the wall where the hole is. Another one suddenly “forgets” to close the curtain when changing into her cosplay outfit for some stupid school event. She wears these cheap magical girl clothes that look like they came from AliExpress, all pastel and too tight around her huge chest, and you’re sitting there thinking, “This is the stupidest thing” while also rock hard.

The best scenes are when the medical side, the magic side and the porn side crash together. There is a massage event where you are “rubbing a special potion” into a student’s legs to prevent the virus from spreading. It starts totally serious, you’re checking her pulse with magic, adjusting mana flow, that kind of nerdy fantasy roleplay. Then the camera slowly slides up to her panties. She keeps asking if it is “really necessary to go higher” and the game lets you be either professional for two seconds or just go straight to full perv. If you keep it clinical, she blushes even more, which somehow feels way dirtier. And of course, the more you abuse your role, the more the academy rewards you with new “duties”. You suddenly get asked to lead “intimate mana compatibility exams” in a locked room. Vaginal exams that could be normal, but you start thrusting fingers and the animation actually shows her trying to keep her dignity and failing. It’s not subtle. It doesn’t pretend to be. One moment you’re picking which student to prioritize in your daily schedule, trying to balance research and reputation, the next moment you’re buried between the legs of some top-ranked witch who swears she will curse you if you stop. The tone jumps all over the place and somehow that makes it hotter, like you’re always one step from ruining the academy completely and you kind of want to.

Everyone in this world already knows your last name before you open your mouth, and half of them either want to fuck you, own you, or quietly make you disappear. You walk into these marble halls full of immortal snobs who never die, never age, and never get tired of playing with people like toys. They smile like royalty and talk like lawyers, but the second the doors close they are on their knees, or putting someone else there. The game throws you straight into that mess with almost no hand holding: one moment you are the pretty little heir who should “behave”, next moment some ancient matriarch is pressing you against a balcony rail, whispering how she remembers fucking your grandfather in the same place and wants to see if the bloodline stayed hard where it matters.

The teasing here is not fake “oh no, my towel fell” kind of bullshit. It drags. A twin sister brushes your arm, the brother leans on your other side, both of them talking about family loyalty while their hands are getting way too friendly with your belt. You keep waiting for the fade to black, but it doesn’t. You choose who to pull closer, and the other one just watches, breathing hard, promising you they will get their turn. There is this scene in a greenhouse where one of the slaves is kneeling in front of you, eyes empty and calm like they accepted they belong to your bloodline, while another noble is behind them, guiding your hips, telling you how to use what is yours. It is fucked up and hot at the same time, which I kinda hate admitting. Sometimes you feel powerful, like real male domination, hand in their hair, making them take every inch. Sometimes you realize they still outrank you and you are the one pinned down, with a sharp smile above you and nails in your chest, and you like it anyway. Animated thrusts, actual movement, bodies grinding instead of just posing, helps a lot. The sex can switch fast from slow, almost romantic kissing to messy group pile where you literally don’t remember who started touching you first. There is one late scene where you are supposed to be handling some “serious political talk” in a private lounge and it ends with you balls deep in one twin while the other rides your face, and an immortal aunt sitting in the armchair drinking wine, judging your technique.

I really enjoy how the romance is a trap here. People act soft with you, say they care, but then use you like a bargaining chip in the next council. You might swear loyalty to one dynasty because you fell for their pretty slave girl with the quiet voice, then find out she was trained from birth to make heirs like you obey. But she still squeezes your hand when you fuck her in the bath, so is it fake or not? I got genuinely thrown off by one twist where a character who always submits to you suddenly orders you to kneel. I thought it was just dirty talk, then the scene locks you into that position and you realize that choice from way earlier basically sold your pride to them. I kinda loved that. Also, small thing, but every time the game waits that extra second before somebody finally slides down on your cock, it drives me crazy. In a good way. Or bad way. Depends on the day. Anyway, this whole immortal bloodline circus feels like a place where romance is just another collar, and you are too horny to stop putting it on.

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.