I didn’t expect a game about running Leblanc again to make me feel this weird mix of nostalgia and filthy excitement, but here we are. You’re back behind that tiny counter, coffee grinder humming like it’s pretending not to hear the moans from upstairs. The girls drift in one by one - older now, sharper around the edges - and there’s something so painfully intimate in how they talk to you, like every conversation could end in an argument or a kiss. The writing isn’t afraid of silence either; some dialogues just sit there, uncomfortable, until someone says something foolish and suddenly clothes start coming off. It’s both tender and obscene. I kinda hate that I love it.

The management part doesn’t even pretend to be realistic. You wipe tables, brew coffee, flirt, rinse, repeat - but then out of nowhere she’s leaning over the counter and whispering something that makes your hand slip on the mug handle. That small animation? Pure evil. Like it knows exactly what kind of attention you’re giving the screen. The sandbox structure helps though; it gives you space to do nothing, which somehow makes the sexy moments hit harder. There’s this little sound effect when affection goes up, a soft chime, and I swear it’s addictive like a dopamine drip. I wish the CG scenes weren’t locked behind such arbitrary stat checks, but maybe that’s part of the charm: earning indulgence through tedium. Or maybe I’m just rationalizing my own thirst.

There’s one night where everything slows down - no hints, no grinding, just her voice low and rough, saying things that almost sound like apologies. That single scene made the whole thing click for me. The lewdness stops being just porn and turns into something strangely personal, almost pathetic in its honesty. I don’t know if that was on purpose, probably not, but it worked. Play it like you’d sip cold coffee after closing time - half bitter, half sweet, all wrong. Don’t rush anything. Let it wreck your pacing.

This thing feels like somebody took that whole “dollification” fetish, threw it into Blender and Stable Diffusion, shook the bottle, and never really checked the recipe after. You start as this pretty average dude, nothing special, kind of a background NPC energy, and suddenly you’re surrounded by girls who look like the algorithm has been told “more tits, more ass, more lips, more everything” on a loop. There’s no slow build, no long romance arcs, it’s like walking into a nightclub where the only dress code is “be fuckable” and the lights are permanently set to horny. The bimbo vibe is not just visual, it’s in how scenes are written: they talk like their brain is getting overwritten in real time by your cock and by whatever tech is driving the whole “doll verse” thing. The bodies are cartoon-level stacked, huge round tits that sit high like they’re inflated from the inside, asses that barely fit into the frame, and the camera knows it, keeps sliding down, catching jiggle and tight fabric and those stupidly thin thongs that exist only to be pulled aside.

At some point I realized I was ignoring half the story bits and just clicking forward to see how far the corruption goes. One scene hit me harder than I expected: you’re in this fake-clinical room, like a beauty lab designed by someone who watched too much porn, and the girl is on the chair talking almost normal at first. Lights scan her skin, some AI “enhancement” program runs, and the interface keeps saying stuff like “optimizing obedience” and “sexual output increased.” She’s looking at you, trying to hold onto her old self, then her voice gets softer, words shorter, tits literally bigger a few screen transitions later, her eyes a little emptier, and still she begs you to tell her she looks pretty. Philosophically, it’s super fucked and super hot at the same time. On one level, it is just fetish fluff for people who want big plastic-barbie sluts drooling over their dick. On another, it nails how desire in the digital age tries to flatten women into presets: big tits, big ass, simple thoughts, always “yes.” Of course, I say “nails” like it was planned; it might just be horny chaos that accidentally feels deep when you’re tired and half naked. I kept thinking of Nietzsche and then immediately thinking of how good her nipples looked in that latex harness. No healthy brain should have those two thoughts back-to-back, but here we are.

What actually surprised me most, weirdly, was a small browsing moment. You’re in this selection screen of dolls, like an unholy mix of Pornhub categories and character creation in a RPG, and you can zoom on different parts. I spent way too long just rotating the view around one girl’s ass, trying to decide if the curve was “artificial” enough. The texture has this uncanny quality, a bit too smooth, like AI tried to guess what perfect skin is and overshot it. It made me think about how porn is drifting away from real bodies into this fantasy of “AI generated flesh” that nobody has but everyone clicks on. I complain in my head about the weird hands and slightly off eyes, yet I still keep going, because when she kneels and the screen drops behind her to isolate the movement of her hips on your lap, none of that matters. It’s trashy, it’s overblown, sometimes the writing trips on itself trying to be edgy and just sounds dumb, and one of the early dialogue choices made me roll my eyes so hard I had to alt-tab to Telegram for a minute just to reset my brain. Then you come back, the next scene opens with her in a too-tight crop top, tits almost falling out while she calls you “master” like it’s the only word left in her vocabulary, and all your high-minded critique dissolves into “ok yeah, click next, I need to see where this goes.” The game is full of that clash: horny now, think later, or maybe never.

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.

Clara is basically what happens if some bootleg Lara Croft got drunk on porn logic and cursed artifacts, then decided pants are optional from now on. She’s got the tight top, huge tits that look like they’re one dodge-roll away from falling out, and that slightly smug “I’m smarter than this whole dungeon” face… right until the first horny ghost, tentacled monster or leather-obsessed cultist grabs her by the hips and the whole adventure turns into a sex reel. The ring she’s looking for feels like an excuse; the real treasure is how many ways the game finds to humiliate, worship, break or spoil her body while she still tries to act like a serious explorer. I love that mix. She’s climbing ancient ruins one second, and the next she’s on her knees, drool on her chin, cheeks tear-streaked while some paranormal futa thing is stuffing her throat and asshole at the same time. There’s this weird charm in watching a badass heroine that clearly masturbates in her tent, pretending she’s not into it, then completely losing control when someone actually grabs her ass and pins her down.

The whole thing plays like someone mashed a horny Tomb Raider parody with a turn based hentai RPG, then added too many fetishes and just said “fuck it, keep all of them”. You poke through crumbling corridors, flip some switches, solve puzzles that make you feel a tiny bit smart, then get ambushed by monsters that want way more than your HP. I liked how half the “game over” scenes feel more like “game reward” scenes. Lose a fight? Ok, here’s Clara on her back, ankles hooked behind her head, getting used like a toy by a group of masked cultists, one in her mouth, one grinding between her tits, somebody else stretching her pussy open until her belly bulges. Sometimes it’s male dom, sometimes she flips it and tramples a guy’s face with her dirty boots, makes him lick the sweat off her feet while she lazily fingers herself and pisses on his chest, like “this is what you wanted, right?” and you’re just nodding in front of the screen. There’s also that nasty, wet kind of voyeurism where the camera lingers from weird angles, like through a crack in the wall while she rubs herself in secret, or from the point of view of some demon watching her take a quick, desperate pee behind a ruined statue, only for a tentacle to slide up between her thighs. One route you get sweet-ish lesbian teasing and slow groping, another you end up strapped in some BDSM contraption getting filled from every side, double or even triple penetration, toys buzzing inside her while a harsh mistress tugs her hair and slaps her tits until they’re red. It’s messy, sometimes brutal with graphic violence right next to messy oral and rough anal, but there’s this twisted fantasy logic to it that made my artist brain spin: Clara on a stone altar, covered in runes and cum; Clara riding a monster like a mount while jerking off another with her feet; Clara crying and laughing at the same time because she finally got the ring, but she had to fuck half the paranormal world to earn it. I opened the game thinking “ok, silly porn parody”, and now my Pinterest is full of half-finished sketches of her getting railed in dusty tombs.