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.

This one hits like a fucked up Valentine’s card somebody dipped in blood and spit on. Oridelle is not a “heroine,” she is a girl who died, got dragged back, and now thinks the only reason she exists is to suck off the guy who saved her. That’s the whole emotional center of the game: her on her knees, him on the throne, and you sitting there clicking through that sick loop of “thank you for saving me, please use me again.” It feels almost too intimate sometimes, like reading someone’s horny therapy diary that got infected by a horror manga. The tone flips a lot. One minute she is this soft, almost cute corpse-girl whispering how grateful she is, and three lines later she is giggling like a brain-poisoned bimbo about how her mouth is “perfect for him” and nothing else matters. It is erotic, yeah, but there is this rotten taste under it, like you bit into candy and it was raw meat.

The horror wraps itself around the sex instead of fighting it. Every time she drags herself back to that coffin, body resetting, clothes fixing, face going back to the “normal” Oridelle, it feels like watching a save file overwrite a human being. She goes out, gets broken a little more, comes back, looks the same. Inside she is not the same. You can feel the split getting wider, her real self trapped under this shiny, porn-brain alter ego that thinks being his perfect cocksleeve is holy work. Some scenes are almost boring in how focused they are on his dick and her mouth, and then suddenly one line pops where she begs him to call her by a name he gave her, not her own, and it hits harder than the actual blowjob. The game keeps telling you, quietly, that she is already dead, just not all at once. And still you keep clicking, because the pacing is like a slow, dripping faucet you kind of hate but keep staring at. Sometimes the writing leans too hard into “bimbo talk” and loses that fragile, tragic vibe I liked at the start, but then there is a moment where she hesitates before opening her lips and it all comes back. I wish there was a way to pull her out, to give her a route where she looks at him and says “no,” but the whole point is that she will not. She crawls back, every time, happy to be used, proud of how empty she can become for him, and that is what makes the whole thing stay in your head after you close the tab and pretend you are just going to check Twitter.

Jack is that smug asshole you would instantly block on Instagram, except here you’re stuck in the same shitty town with him and his dad owns basically every thug on the street. The girl you play as is doing the classic “good student with garbage salary jobs” thing, dragging herself from school to work, trying to keep food on the table for her brother and her useless father. Then she hears the wrong thing at the wrong alley behind the school gate. Suddenly this isn’t just about grades and rent, it’s about a rich crime prince deciding she’s a loose end that needs to be handled. Small problem for him: she isn’t some screaming victim who faints at the first punch. The first time he sends a guy to scare her, you can actually put that bastard on the ground, boot on his chest, and feel the game quietly saying: yeah, she hits back.

From that moment, everything starts dripping into sex and power stuff, and it sneaks up on you. At the start she is stiff, almost painfully “pure”. First scene in her cramped bathroom, she is doing this awkward fast masturbation, trying not to wake anybody, biting her lip, half guilty, half desperate. Camera stays too long on her fingers and that cheap plastic phone light, you can almost feel how cold the tiles are. Then school scenes bring the slow rot. A teacher “accidentally” presses against her chest when he helps her with homework, students bump into her in the corridor and use every excuse to grope her ass. It begins as these small touches she tries to ignore, then you get dialogue options like “stay quiet and endure it” or “threaten to scream” and both paths somehow drag her deeper. Jack figures out very fast that she has someone to protect, and the blackmail snowballs: one lewd photo in the storage room so he deletes a video, one humiliating blowjob in his car so a debt magically disappears. Sometimes she is trembling, sometimes she looks straight at him with that angry, wet-eyed stare while she is on her knees, spit and cum on her tongue, and it is honestly hotter than any fake moaning. There is a club arc later where she has to strip on stage for quick dirty cash, and if you corrupt her far enough she starts arching her back and grinding on the pole like she owns the place, but there is always this tiny dead look in her eyes that reminds you this is survival, not some happy porn audition.

The game loves crossing the line with control. One route turns her part-time job into this twisted BDSM playground for a rich client, where he uses ropes and toys on her while she pretends it is “just another gig”. She goes in as a virgin just trying to keep her body intact long enough to escape the city, and the first full sex scene is brutally intimate. Slow, a bit clumsy, condom “forgotten” on purpose, you can see the exact second she realizes he is going to finish inside and there is nothing she can do without ruining everything she sacrificed. The creampie is not fireworks, it is a trap locking in. Later, when she actually starts to want it, there are scenes where she rides him in some shady motel, hand over his mouth, whispering filthy things you would not expect from the shy girl from the intro. Oral, rough groping in stairwells, being shoved against the school lockers while pretending to resist because the hallway cameras are on, that kinda pervy tension. Since it is a mobile game, I kept playing on the train with brightness way too low, swiping through choices with one thumb and praying nobody behind me could see when Jack’s hand slid into her panties during a “normal” lunch break. There is this tiny chat popup that keeps asking to rate the game and it appears directly on top of her face sometimes during a sex scene, which pissed me off so much I almost dropped the phone, but then I still went back to check a different corruption branch right after. And I still have no idea why the loading tip keeps mentioning a mechanic that never actually shows up in any route I tried, but whatever.

Thomas is that kind of guy every Overwatch nerd pretended to be back when D.Va voice lines were stuck in our heads all day. Except here he actually did it. He is in the team, he sleeps in her bed, he knows exactly how loud she moans when you pull her pigtails and shove her face into the mattress. On paper the relationship looks perfect: famous Korean mecha princess, loyal boyfriend, fans screaming her name on Twitch while she rides his cock after a match like it is just another ranked game. But there is this tiny itch under his skin, like when Battle.net lags right when you ult. Everything is good, nothing is wrong, and yet he wants more. Dirtier. Meaner. Less “idol” and more “cum toy with cute cheeks”.

Then that weird mail shows up, like spam you should ignore but you click it anyway because horniness beats common sense every single time. It is not some big magic ritual or epic prophecy nonsense, it is more like someone slid a cheat menu into his life. One by one, the little options open up. Lower her shame. Boost her arousal in public. Crank up obedience when you whisper in her ear. And you just watch this bright, cocky pro gamer girl, who talks trash in voice chat and winks at cameras, slowly start blushing when you tell her to go out without panties under that tiny skirt. At first she protests, acts all “babo, we can’t, the fans!” and then she is sitting on your lap in the parked car, skirt hiked up, drooling around your dick while people walk right past the tinted window. That moment when she looks up with full ahegao eyes, lipstick smeared, and you realize she is way more into humiliation than she wants to admit, hits harder than any highlight reel.

The fun part is how it mixes the silly parody vibe with really rough stuff. One scene she is doing her cutesy “Nerf this!” type voice while riding a vibrating toy you control from your phone, pretending it is just “training gear” for long matches. The next night you have her tied up in some basement that looks way too close to a practice room, wrists burning against ropes, ass already red from spanking, and you are forcing her to count every slap in broken English while she tries not to scream your name. She cheats on you and it is still your win, because you ordered it. You push her into these messed up “swinging” setups where her so‑called allies get a taste of her, but she is trained so well that she only cums when you tell her she is allowed. The anal scenes hit weird too; the first time she is so proud and cocky, saying she can “tank anything”, then three thrusts later she is babbling like a drunk support player, clutching at you, mascara running, begging you not to film it while you obviously already did. Some bits are slow, like a ranked queue on a dead server, and sometimes the jokes miss, but then there is that one moment where she walks out on stage, still wet from the sex toy hidden inside her, winking at the crowd while you raise the vibration level on your phone, and suddenly all the little rough edges of the game feel on purpose.