Samantha shows up in this rotten city like she walked out of some half-forgotten cyberpunk fanfic and then someone spilled porn all over the manuscript. She is “the fixer”, sure, but half the time it feels like the city is fixing her instead, grinding her down with every job, every favor, every late-night “meeting” with someone who has too much power and not enough morals. The game throws you into Blaston, this polluted, hungry place where everyone wants something from her body first and her brains second. One moment you are discussing sabotage in a factory office, pretending you care about output numbers, and five minutes later the foreman has her bent over the desk, still trying to finish the dialogue options while his absurdly huge cock is already pushing in. It feels wrong and hot at the same time, especially when you realize her choices earlier made this exact humiliation possible. My inner literature nerd kept thinking about noir detectives who always drink too much and get punched in the alley, except here the hangover is replaced by cum dripping down her thigh on the train home while people stare.

What I like is how the game constantly forces you to juggle “professional” life and just pure degeneracy. You wake up, check your phone like in real life, see three messages: boss wants you to talk to a gang leader, some rich wife wants “private mediation” with her cheating husband, and a shady lab sends a polite invite to “participate in an experimental treatment” to improve her physical abilities. Saying yes to that third one can turn Samantha into all kinds of twisted versions of herself. I had a run where she ended up with a smooth thick futa shaft between her legs, and it completely changed how scenes played out. Suddenly she is the one pulling out her cock in a dark alley, forcing a cocky street punk to his knees and using his mouth until he gags, then deciding if she rewards him with a sticky creampie inside or just all over his face. Another time I went the opposite direction and let the city break her. She got dragged into this spiral with a group of monster girls and rough, smug black gangsters who pass her around in a derelict warehouse like she is public property. There is this one scene where she is standing naked on a loading dock in the rain, collar on her neck, one guy fucking her ass while another uses her mouth and a third is rubbing her swollen belly because, yeah, she is already pregnant from an earlier “negotiation” that went very off script. She tries to keep talking in-character about “peace between factions” while they just laugh and slap her tits until she shuts up and moans.

The corruption creeps in little by little. At the start she still gets shy when someone grabs her ass on the subway, pulls her skirt down, looks annoyed. Later she is riding that same train with no panties, sitting across from some nervous virgin office boy, spreading her legs a tiny bit wider each stop, watching him sweat. You can choose for her to drag him into a public restroom and ruin him for normal sex forever, jerking him off and then guiding his cock inside while she whispers that he belongs to her now, or you can ignore him and go meet your cuckold contact instead. That guy is married to this Amazon-tier woman with huge tits and a big black bull on the side, and your “job” is to keep the drama controlled. Which in practice turned into Samantha fucking the wife on the couch, licking her pussy while the bull rails her from behind, and the poor husband just sits in the corner stroking his worthless little dick. The game is full of this kind of tangled mess. You think it is just a life sim with calendars and stats, then suddenly you are on a rooftop at night, drunk on power, making a captured troublemaker kiss your boots before you jerk him off with them and push him over the edge of his old life. Romantic routes exist too, buried under all the filth. I accidentally made Samantha fall in love with a girl she was supposed to blackmail. They end up in a cheap motel, kissing shyly at first, then rubbing against each other until they both cum, no pressure, no money, no gang watching. It was almost sweet, which somehow made all the gangbangs, footjobs under bar tables, public groping in neon-lit clubs, BWC-driven netorare drama and messy creampies feel even dirtier by contrast. The city keeps asking her one question: how much of yourself are you willing to sell to keep fixing everyone else’s problems, and how much are you secretly enjoying that sale.

Jason is that kind of lazy-ass 22-year-old everyone knows: still parked in mom’s house, half pretending to look for work, actually grinding through games like his life depends on clearing the next level. The game drops you right into one of those “I’ll just play one more” nights where the screen glow is basically his only real relationship. Except here, the more he plays, the stranger his world starts twisting. Not in some deep philosophical way, don’t worry. More like: the geeky gamer fantasies in his head start leaking into his real life, and suddenly mom’s tight shirt isn’t “just mom’s shirt” anymore, and the Lara-style brunette on screen feels a little too close, like she might crawl out of the monitor and ask for a blowjob for beating the boss. It plays out like a short episode, self-contained, like a dirty Black Mirror that decided to stop pretending it has a moral and just went full horny instead.

The tone is this weird mix of everyday boredom and “shit, did that actually just happen.” One moment Jason’s half-slouching at his desk, alt-tabbing between his game and some porn site like Pornhub or XVideos, thinking about nothing, and then bam, you’re in front of a stacked milf with ridiculous big tits, and the game doesn’t even pretend you’re there for plot. You get those classic VN moments where time kind of slows down, screen holds on a CG of her bending over the sink, panties riding up, Jason’s eyes glued to her ass even though he’s pretending to look at the floor. The text doesn’t over-explain it, which I like. You already know what he’s thinking. When oral comes in, it’s not some meek fade to black. Mouth on cock, spit strings, sloppy sounds, her lips stretching around him, his hand in her hair pulling a little too hard, that quick little panic in his head that she might actually notice how much he’s enjoying it. Then he thinks about that redhead from his game, the one with the explorer shorts, and suddenly the lines start blurring. Is he imagining mom as his own bootleg Lara, or did the dev just decide that gamer brain is one endless crossover event and call it a day.

What sells it isn’t some great mystery plot, it’s that feeling of being stuck between screens and reality. Jason grinding XP in his games, then “grinding” something else in the hallway when mom bends down to pick up laundry. You get those heavy-breathing scenes where she’s on her knees, her lips wrapped around him, cheeks hollowing out, eyes up, and the text throws in just enough little details like the taste, the warmth, the way her tongue plays with the tip, that it hits that sweet spot between porn and fantasy diary. The parody vibe sneaks in too, with that obvious nod to Lara Croft style heroines: tough gamer fantasy girls with guns and shorts who, in this world, also happen to love sucking cock once Jason manages to “beat” their route. No long grind, no nonsense stat juggling, just click, read, choose, watch the CG hentai do its thing. One shot, in and out, like a quick jerk-it session between real-life obligations you’re definitely ignoring. It feels dirty in that specific way only a story about a useless gamer son drooling over his milf mother and game heroines can pull off, and it doesn’t apologize for any of it.

The house feels too quiet when Sterling walks in, the kind of silence that sticks to your skin. There’s that smell - old wood, perfume, something faintly sinful like memories that never left. You can almost hear the ghosts of laughter and moans tangled in the walls. Everyone looks at him differently now, not as the kid who ran off, but as the man who came back with a pulse full of tension. The women in this game, they don’t waste time pretending innocence. The so-called mourning period lasts about five seconds before somebody’s hand is somewhere it shouldn’t be. It’s messy, funny, uncomfortable, and hot in that way only forbidden things are. Sometimes you’ll laugh because the dialogue’s ridiculous, sometimes you’ll forget to breathe because a scene just hits that filthy sweet spot between lust and shame.

What I liked most was how it never feels clean. There’s domination that borders on cruelty, soft moments ruined by sudden gropes, a futa scene that goes way harder than expected, and those “oops-I-shouldn’t-watch-this” voyeur bits that make you squirm. Even the humor has teeth; it’s not wink-wink-nudge-nudge but more like someone laughing right in the middle of an orgasm. The harem thing isn’t just numbers - it’s chaos management, trying to juggle jealousy and desire while every woman (and not only women) seems one breath away from breaking the furniture. And then there’s that weird ache when corruption sneaks in, when seduction turns into ownership and you realize you kind of wanted it that way. The sound design helps too: low voices, wet noises that feel too real through headphones, that small gasp when a boundary gets crossed.

It’s not perfect - some pacing’s off, and a few scenes feel like they forgot their own setup - but maybe that’s why it works. Like old VHS hentai, rough edges make it human. It doesn’t pretend to be classy, it just drags you down into the mess and dares you to call it art while your pants are still around your ankles.

Bolsdip sounds like the kind of town where nothing happens, but then you walk around for five minutes and suddenly you are watching your hot neighbor masturbate through a half open curtain and pretending this is “part of the investigation”. You play this young detective who comes back home carrying big city attitude, small town trauma, and a dick that keeps voting against professional ethics. On the surface it is this classic mystery thing: weird disappearances, rumors about supernatural shit, people keeping secrets. But the game quietly keeps shifting everything into sex. Every clue, every locked door, every awkward chat in the college hallway somehow slides toward blackmail, seduction, or some fucked up mix of both where you are not sure if you are saving them or corrupting them further. It feels less like solving cases and more like peeling clothes off reality, one layer at a time.

The way it plays is relaxed and a bit messy in a good way. You click around town, poke at objects, wait for certain times of day, and different scenes unlock depending on what you already screwed up or screwed. One run I spent ages orbiting the local professor, this classy-looking woman who talks like she teaches ethics but dresses like she cosplays her own students’ fantasies. Conversation with her starts academic, about motives and perception and all that, then suddenly she is pressing you against her office desk, whispering about “research” while her hand slides down your pants. It’s not just “sex scene, reward, next”. She keeps referencing previous choices, teasing you for hesitating when she first offered to “help you relax”, and if you push back she flips into this cool femdom mode, sitting on her chair and making you kneel between her legs while she explains moral philosophy like it’s foreplay. I wish the transitions between normal talk and horny talk were less abrupt sometimes, but at the same time that abruptness kind of feels right, like how real desire cuts into small talk without asking.

Next door is the milf who looks way too perfect for this shitty little town. She bakes, she smiles, she leans over in yoga pants in a way that absolutely counts as exhibitionism. She acts all caring, nostalgic about when you were younger, but the camera angle really cares only about her tits and her ass. You end up in these situations where you “help” her carry boxes, fix some minor thing in her house, and the reward rapidly goes from a hug to her guiding your head between her legs on the living room couch while some boring TV show is on in the background. There is this one scene where she pretends to be half asleep on the sofa and you are standing there, watching her nipples harden under the shirt, and the game lets you choose whether to be a good guy or quietly slide your hand under the fabric. It feels dirty in a very aware way, like the game is staring right into that part of your brain that always wonders what you would really do if nobody judged you. And then, when you think you have the pattern, the game throws that hidden baocat thing at you, so suddenly you are clicking around locations looking for a ridiculous little mascot that unlocks some extra lewd toy or secret animation. It is silly, breaks the mood, makes you grin, and somehow also makes the next blowjob scene feel more earned, because you hunted a stupid cat for it. The whole thing ends up like a horny detective diary: a slow burn of mysteries, voyeur moments, guilt-flavored orgasms, and the constant sense that Bolsdip itself is getting wetter and weirder the deeper you push.