Fashion Business looks like something I’d scroll past on Nutaku when I’m bored in bed, then somehow I’m still poking at my phone an hour later, half annoyed, half turned on. You play as Monica, this walking definition of “rich bitch” who treats everyone like trash and thinks her tits and money are gravity. At start she’s all queen of the office, barking orders, humiliating staff for fun, flashing legs in stupidly expensive outfits. For cosplay ideas she’s actually perfect: those tight pencil skirts, open blouses with no bra, insane heels you can’t even stand in, plus that smug facial expression. I literally paused once just to screenshot her stockings so I could match the seam line later. And then the game just slowly rips all that power away. One moment she’s firing people, next she’s on the other side of the desk, listening to some greasy manager talk about “new conditions” while your dialogue options are basically blowjob or lose everything.

The voyeur stuff hits early too. There’s this scene where she’s in a changing room, trying on lingerie that looks like it costs more than my rent, and the camera angle is way too interested in her ass while some perv spies through a hole. It starts as “haha, he’s jerking off” and by the end you’re watching her masturbate to her own reflection, like she’s still in love with herself even when you know what’s coming. Later, when her life really starts to crumble, that same body and ego get used for everything: titfucks in ugly backrooms, sloppy oral to skip some debt, getting spanked just because a guy can. There’s a lesbian route that’s half tender, half twisted, like one girl pretending to “help” her while pushing toys in her and then forcing her to watch in a mirror, which felt equal parts hot and pathetic. The sandbox stuff sometimes makes it drag, you just tap around on your phone hoping for a scene that isn’t another jerk teasing her with blackmail pics, but then out of nowhere you hit this moment where she gives a footjob in a cheap motel because she’s too proud to admit she’ll fuck for cash now, and it kind of sticks in your head longer than it should. I wish I could say the corruption path is subtle, but it’s really not, it’s just this slow, mean slide from “I own this city” to “I’m the entertainment,” with a lot of stripping, creampies in places that are absolutely not hygienic, and these tiny, quiet masturbation scenes where she pretends it’s still her choice. And I still hate that one pair of heels she wears in the office, the toe shape is ugly as hell, but anyway.

Jean’s had enough of Klee’s chaos, but this time the little pyro menace isn’t just lighting up barrels - she’s lighting up the whole damn city with scandal. The story kicks off like a prank gone wrong, or right, depending on how you feel about blackmail and dripping wet revenge. You sneak around Mondstadt, catching the prim and proper girls in their “off-duty” moments - Lisa’s moaning over her own experiments, Barbara pretending she’s still pure while her fingers say otherwise, Ayaka blushing so hard it’s like her whole body’s about to melt. The game doesn’t pretend to be classy; it’s messy, horny, and sometimes weirdly funny, like when Fischl starts narrating her own blowjob in third person. I swear I laughed and came at the same time, which is a rare combo.

What makes it work is how the corruption sneaks up on you. It starts playful - Klee teasing Jean with harmless tricks - but then things twist. Voyeurism turns into participation, participation into obsession. There’s this one scene with Yae Miko where she basically toys with the protagonist’s sanity, whispering filth like she’s casting a spell. And then Noelle shows up, trying to act all knightly while she’s literally polishing more than just armor. The transitions between scenes are quick, sometimes too quick, like the devs got distracted mid-edit, but somehow that janky pacing adds charm. It feels raw, like watching someone’s fever dream of Genshin girls losing their morals one by one.

The animations? Rough in spots, but when they hit, they *hit*. Hu Tao’s grin when she’s riding you - it’s unholy. Rosaria’s confession scene made me pause the game just to breathe. Even the quiet moments, like Sucrose trying to explain the “chemical reaction” of arousal while clearly soaked herself, have this strange sincerity. It’s not a polished fantasy; it’s a filthy sandbox where shame doesn’t exist. You don’t play it for art - you play it because you want to see what happens when innocence burns out completely.

You start as this washed-up ex-child actor in LA who peaked before puberty, which is already kinda hot in a fucked up way, because the game never lets you forget he’s a mess. He’s broke, clingy, horny, trying to squeeze fame out of a podcast that no one sane would listen to. The whole thing is built around this dumb but perfect idea: a sleazy “sex-adjacent” podcast with hot girls who are supposed to talk about clout and drama while low-key getting dragged into this spiral of blackmail, cheating, and public humiliation. It feels less like “build your dream harem” and more like “weaponize people’s trauma for clicks and pussy,” which I mean as a compliment, kinda. The humor is actually funny sometimes too, not that Marvel quip bullshit, more like “wow you really said that on camera?” nasty.

The girls are exactly the type you’d expect around a thirsty LA podcast setup: big tits, big ass, big mouth, tiny filter. They’re not just sex dolls though, they roast you, they tease you, they bully you, they drag you on your own show. One of my favorite bits is when you’re trying to keep two of them from absolutely destroying each other on the couch while you’re still rolling, and at the same time you’re trying to angle the conversation into “so, what’s your type in men?” so you can line up some pussy later. There’s a lot of femdom energy floating around, not in a leather-and-whip way, more like they know you’re desperate and they use it. Sexual harassment in both directions too, guys and girls just crossing lines like it’s a sport. One minute you’re getting a lapful of big ass during a fake “twerk contest for the fans”, next minute that same girl is using your fuck-up on stream to blackmail you into quietly helping her cheat on her dude. Or worse, she lets you fuck her and then laughs that she’s going to describe every second of it on TikTok as “content”.

The netorare stuff hits that specific dirty brain itch. It’s not just “oh no, my waifu is stolen”, it’s more like everybody is playing this clout game where loyalty is negotiable and sex is currency. You run into situations where another guy gets invited as a co-host or guest and suddenly he’s charming the girls on-air, touching their thighs while the camera “accidentally” stays too low, and your MC is forced to smile for the audience while his brain screams. There’s this one bit where you help set up a collab to boost your view count, and it slowly turns into you literally watching one of the girls slide closer to him on the couch, hand on his chest, and you can tell she’s deciding if she’s going to ride his dick later purely because it’ll piss you off and make better drama. The game leans into that, like “yeah, you wanted fame, here’s your girlfriend getting fucked for engagement numbers.” Or maybe she’s not your girlfriend. Or maybe she was, but only between ad reads. The sex itself can get surprisingly tender or straight-up nasty depending how you play it, from teasing strip moments during “body positivity talk” to full-on vaginal scenes that feel like you’re sneaking them past the algorithm. Half the time you’re trying to keep sponsors happy and the other half you’re wondering if that shadowy group pulling strings cares more about views or about watching you crumble while someone else makes your girl moan on a couch that smells like cheap perfume and broken promises.

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.