Shoji’s house looks like one of those quiet, expensive places in a drama where you already know some fucked up shit is going on behind the paper doors. The game drops you right into that mood. You’re this broke husband, basically a guest with a dick and a suitcase, and Shoji is the rich “family friend” who’s a bit too kind, a bit too available, and way too comfortable walking around half dressed. Your wife Lana starts off like a normal modern girl, cute casual clothes, a bit of foreign flair on her style, talking about Instagram and stupid stuff, and then little by little she starts changing. One day she’s scrolling on her phone in shorts, next time she’s quietly kneeling in a soft kimono pouring tea for Shoji while he sits like some lazy old lion, and she doesn’t even look at you when you come in. The game never shouts “corruption” at you, it just lets you notice her lipstick is different, her hair color is back to natural, she bows a little deeper to him than to you, and it hits harder than a flashy “bad end” screen.

What got me hooked wasn’t the porn right away, it was that slow gut punch of small stuff. That one early scene where you walk into the living room and Lana is sitting on the floor next to Shoji’s legs, listening to him talk about “proper Japanese values”, and she gives you this quick guilty smile while her hand is hidden under the low table. You know exactly what she’s doing, you know what his cock looks like already from a dream scene, but the game just lets it hang there. You hear the tiny wet rhythm, see her shoulder twitch a little, and she tries to keep the conversation casual with you while she’s jerking him off inches from your face. No big drama, no yelling, he even talks to you about job hunting while your wife is milking him for all he’s worth. Then later she acts like it never happened and asks if you want a handjob too, like it’s some cute married couple thing, like she didn’t just swallow another man’s cum behind the table where you eat. My brain hated that, my dick loved it, and the game knows exactly how to play with that split. It’s not subtle at all, but somehow it feels more real than it should, like some shitty memory you’re not supposed to have.

The story keeps pressing on this Japanese “traditional wife” idea, but in the dirtiest way possible. Lana starts speaking more polite to Shoji than to you, calling him “Shoji-san” with that soft voice, kneeling next to him, fixing his tie, adjusting his belt a little too low. You get scenes where you come home and they are “practicing tea ceremony” and her kimono is pulled down just enough for her tits to almost slip out, or you see her sitting in front of him while he stands behind her, “showing her proper posture”, his hands on her hips, his bulge against her ass under the thin fabric. Sometimes you get a choice, like pretend you don’t notice, or say something weak, and either way you feel like a useless husband watching your own wife slide into this obedient little sex toy for an older man. They always look like you arrived two minutes too late. Her lipstick smudged, her panties missing, Shoji buttoning his shirt, acting normal. And there is that one balcony scene where she tells you she loves you, kisses you softly… and the CG zooms just enough to show a white drip still clinging to her inner thigh. She doesn’t even notice. Or she does and won’t say. It’s that style. The game is basically asking “are you still okay with calling her your wife when she kneels for someone else first?” and then, just when you think “this is too much”, it gives you a gentle sex scene with her where she rides you slow, eyes half closed, moaning your name… and all you can think is she learned that grinding technique on someone thicker. It’s fucked up, it’s hot, and it never really lets you breathe.

Atlas is that kind of immortal asshole who thinks he has everything under control, and then one horny night just blows up four centuries of “peace” because he smells the wrong pussy in the wrong crowd. He is the prince of vampires, everyone whispers his name like he is some tragic hero, but in practice you are just a very old bastard with fangs, a hard dick, and a talent for attracting trouble with tits. You walk into this human party, sniff something strange, and there she is: Leyala. Gorgeous, guarded, looks like she could stab you or ride you, maybe both in same scene. She is hiding something huge, and of course the best way to get the truth is to push her against a wall and see how long she can keep secrets with your hand between her legs.

The whole thing plays like someone mixed horny Skyrim with a trashy vampire soap opera and Pornhub tabs left open in the background. One moment you are talking politics with ancient nobles, next moment you have three girls in your bed, two tongues around your shaft and one pretty little thing kissing your chest like you are some romantic idiot from a dating sim. There is a real “collect them all” vibe too. Dark skinned warrior milf who pretends she hates you while grinding her ass on your thigh. Shy asian mage who blushes like crazy the first time you make her stroke you under the table while the council is arguing about war. Blonde elf who says she is not into girls, then five minutes later is licking another woman’s pussy while you push your cock between their tits, using both their chests like one big slippery toy. The game just keeps stacking scenes like that, threesomes that suddenly become foursomes, a “simple” massage that turns into you giving an anal creampie because you clicked the slightly more rude option.

What I liked is how it does not rush the filth but still never forgets the point. You talk, you flirt, you roleplay the gentleman or the controlling bastard, you pretend to care about prophecies and realms, and then your “romantic moment” ends with you finishing all over a pretty ebony girl’s face while her best friend sits on your tongue, shaking and moaning loud enough that guards probably hear. Sometimes it feels almost sweet, like when you slowly help a nervous virgin relax, kissing her thighs, letting her ride you at her own pace, until she suddenly loses control and claws your chest when you cum deep inside. Then five minutes later you are ordering two experienced lesbians to put on a show for you in the bath, one of them sliding your cock between her ass cheeks while the other sucks the tip every time it pops out. It is messy, animated, completely unashamed, and the story keeps pretending it is about saving the Seven Realms when actually it is about how many different mouths, asses and tight wet holes one smug vampire prince can ruin before the world ends.

Michelle looks like the girl in your office who always leaves at exactly 5, hair perfect, life probably on rails. Except here she is in sweaty, neon Hong Kong streets in 1986, slowly losing her grip on that “good daughter, good employee” mask because one tiny, stubborn, chain-smoking woman named Sam keeps flirting with her in ways that are way too gentle to ignore and way too dirty to be innocent. The game starts pretty tame, all long bus rides, quiet apartment scenes, small talk about movies and clothes, but the whole time the camera lingers on thighs under skirts, fingers brushing on handrails, the little hesitation when Michelle looks at Sam’s mouth while they share a drink. It’s a slow, frustrating kind of heat, like when you’re stuck on Zoom meetings and sexting on Telegram on the side, except here it’s cassette tapes and payphones and cramped bedrooms with thin walls and parents one room away. The erotic stuff doesn’t explode in your face with instant porn. It creeps in. One kiss in a dark cinema where Michelle is stiff at first, almost scared, then you see her lips part, her hands tremble, and you can almost hear her swallow before she gives in and pulls Sam closer. Tongues, teeth, that wet sound, and she keeps her eyes half open like she still cannot believe she is letting another woman taste her like that.

When it finally goes past kissing, it hits like someone yanked the curtain down. You get these long, quiet scenes on a bed where the sheets are a bit messy, clothes half off, bras sliding down arms, Michelle trying to cover herself at first and Sam just laughing low and kissing every bit she tries to hide. There is a moment where Sam goes down on her, and it’s not some porn-speed blowjob logic. It is slow and almost awkward, Michelle gripping the bedsheet because she does not even have the words in her own language for what is happening between her legs. The text describes every tiny reaction, how her thighs twitch, how she tries to keep her voice down because her mother could walk past the door, how her hips start grinding against Sam’s mouth anyway, shame turning into this fucked up relief. You can tell the writers actually understand how it feels when you are eating pussy like you care about the person, not like you are checking off positions. There are pauses, deep breaths, a little laugh from Sam when Michelle whimpers a bit too loudly, and then she doubles down, tongue and lips and fingers working together until Michelle is shaking so hard she almost pushes her away. That first orgasm is not “perfect”, it feels real, messy, emotional, like she just broke some rule she has been obeying her whole life.

Under all that sex there is this heavy layer of family and culture pressure that honestly turned me on more than I expected, because the guilt makes everything spicier and more fucked up. Michelle sneaks back home smelling like cigarettes and someone else’s perfume, lies to her mother at the dinner table while still feeling Sam’s fingers inside her if she closes her eyes for a second. There are choices where you can lean into the romance, keep seeing Sam, or try to “fix” yourself and go back to the safe, straight, lonely path everyone expects. Some endings feel like a punch in the gut, some feel like a small rebellion that might not last forever but at least burns hot while it exists. It is a romantic story, yeah, there is sweetness, hand holding, soft kisses, that feeling when you are falling in love and every bus ride feels like a music video, but the game never really lets you forget that this is two women trying to build something intimate and wet and tender inside a world that keeps telling them they are wrong. That clash is what makes the sex scenes hit so hard. When Sam whispers “you’re mine tonight” while Michelle’s family photos are literally watching from the shelf, it feels dirty in the best way, like she is betraying everything for the chance to have her own life, her own pleasure, even if it all goes to hell later.

It starts quiet, like one of those evenings when you swear you’re just checking something small before bed. I thought it was gonna be a quick “help Melory with homework” kind of clicker thing, but nah - this thing gets under your skin fast. The tension builds and then tilts sideways; suddenly you’re the guy making dumb choices while a soft-spoken girl grins like she knows exactly what you’ll do next. It doesn’t feel scripted half the time, more like an awkward memory you’re re-living. The way her voice dips right before teasing a boundary - that’s what caught me. You don’t even realize how deep the game wants to push until every tiny decision spirals into something filthier, or sweeter, depending on your mood.

The strangest part? I actually cared about the damn story for a second. There’s this older woman - Melory’s mom maybe, can’t remember - and she pulls off that fake calm thing way too well. One minute you’re blushing through a foot scene, next she’s lecturing you like some goddess who read your search history. And yeah, it’s heavy on the domination bits, anal teases, stuff that’d make your phone pause mid-loadscreen, but somehow none of it feels cheap. Even the sleep scenes - they make you uncomfortable in that weird way where you still click *next* without thinking. The ASMR moments are hit or miss, honestly; sometimes sexy as hell, other times they just sound like the mic brushing against a pillow, but whatever, it fits the messy, intimate rhythm of the game.

I hate that bottle mini-game though. It’s supposed to be random, but I swear it always lands on the person I didn’t want stripped that round. Maybe that’s the point? It messes with you, keeps that frustration humming right between curiosity and guilt. By the time things twist into those cross-path routes - with trans, maid, interracial, even golden shower endings - you kinda stop worrying about which kink is next and just ride the chaos. The mix of control and shame here works almost too well. Makes you breathe slower. Or hold it. Hard to tell which.