The first time I logged into this thing, I didn’t even care about the classes or whatever plot it pretends to have - the way the avatars breathe, the tiny tremor in their lips before a kiss, that’s what got me. It’s like the devs poured all their soul into making skin look touchable. There’s this one girl in a half-armored cosplay outfit, silver hair glowing like some digital eclipse, and when she leans close, her breath fogs your screen. Maybe I imagined that, but hell, it felt real. The sci-fi cities behind her hum like they’re alive, something between a nightclub and a dream you shouldn’t be having. The game doesn’t shout about its mechanics, but when you figure out how to sync movement and body sensors, it’s almost too much - like your nerves are being rewritten to crave every vibration.

Sometimes the story pretends to be about mystery - a missing player, a corrupted zone - but nobody’s really fooling anyone. The real puzzle is how long you can last before giving in to pure heat. The VR immersion slips between sweet and filthy faster than your mind can keep up; one moment you’re chatting with a student NPC about history, next she’s on her knees, glasses sliding down, eyes wide like she’s learning anatomy for the first time. There’s group stuff too, awkward at first until it’s not. Someone mentioned modders replaced the background drones with moaning echoes; I laughed until it happened in my session and I swear it made everything feel more chaotic and alive. The music, though? Too clean. Needs something grittier, maybe a heartbeat instead of these sterile synths.

I still can’t get over the fact that clothing physics act like they’ve got personalities - skirts that refuse to stay where they should, latex that remembers your touch. You can taste the future here, but it’s messy and dripping and maybe a bit too honest. Every time I log out, reality feels thinner, like a veil that won’t settle right.

Ugly bastard time travel fantasy with school uniforms and way too much skin, that’s basically the whole vibe here. You’re this dude who remembers his life as a pathetic, bitter old perv, then boom, suddenly you’re back in your teenage body, stuck in that same boring school but now with full cheat codes in your brain. All the memories of who fucked you over, who ignored you, which teachers had huge tits under those tight blouses, which MILF neighbors walked around with that fat ass barely covered… and now you’re not some clueless virgin anymore in your head. You’re still “ordinary looking”, kinda ugly, kinda forgettable, but you think like a guy who’s watched too much porn and had zero therapy. That’s the fun part. Every hallway, every classroom, every bedroom is like “oh yeah, I remember what happens here in the future” and you try to break it, twist it, make it hornier.

The teasing is what sold me. Not just instant pussy delivery, you know? Like that scene where the stacked classmate leans over your desk, her shirt a bit too tight, her bra digging into those big tits, and she’s laughing at some dumb joke. In normal games she’d just giggle and walk off. Here your MC is running full horny inner monologue, remembering how she married some loser in the original timeline, how he used to jerk off thinking about her, and now he’s poking at her weak spots, saying the right little lines so she blushes and tugs at her skirt. You get those slow burns, the “accidental” boob presses, the late study sessions that end with her rubbing her thighs together while pretending nothing’s happening. I hate slow stuff and I was still locked in. Then again, sometimes it feels like the game is edging you on purpose and not in a good way, like “ok man, I get it, she’s shy, now let her suck something already.”

The ugly MC thing is surprisingly hot. Not monster ugly, just that dude you’d never look at twice, but girls start reacting different because he’s confident and lowkey manipulative as fuck now. There’s this scene with a MILF, older woman with a big ass squeezed into yoga pants, where she’s lecturing you about “being a good student” while you remember exactly how broken and lonely she was later in life. And you just nudge her, step by step, from “motherly neighbor” to “I’ll just help you with your stress” to her literally grinding on your lap while still trying to pretend she’s in control. It’s messed up, kind of sad, and also insanely hot. The game plays a lot with that corruption angle, not in a subtle way, more like watching a car crash where everyone has big tits. Sometimes it leans into romance and “true love” like you actually care about these girls, then two minutes later you’re jerking off in the school bathroom while remembering how their bodies feel, so yeah, nice whiplash. I wish the MC shut up less in his thoughts and more in dialogue, but whatever, I still clicked next like a trained animal.

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.

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.