You know that guy in the office who flirts too much, stares at tits a little too long, somehow still keeps his job because he knows where all the bodies are buried? In this game, that guy is you, and HR already gave up. You torched your old career by fucking around with the boss’s daughter and teasing half the female staff until the whole place looked like a hentai forum thread you shouldn’t scroll at work. The parent company can’t fire you without risking all their dirty secrets getting leaked, so they ship you off to a new branch and lock you into “100% remote work” like that’s going to stop your dick from ruining lives. It starts so harmless too: video calls with your new coworkers, polite emails, Slack messages that should be boring… but the corruption creeps in fast. A harmless compliment about a tight skirt. A “camera accidentally still on” moment after a shower. A late-night report where she’s wearing a blouse that really doesn’t want to stay buttoned. You’re supposed to behave. You absolutely don’t.

The fun part is how the game lets you poke at their limits. The girls all start out like normal coworkers, the kind you’d follow on Instagram and pretend you’re not zooming in on their pics. There’s the one who pretends to be a professional but is clearly thirsty for attention every time she leans too close to the webcam, boobs practically begging for an HR ticket. The boss’s daughter pops up again, and this time she’s pretending she’s “more mature now”, while stretching on camera so her big tits almost fall out of her top. Half the time you’re reading emails, the other half you’re choosing if you play it nice, act like a creep, or slowly corrupt them so they’re the ones asking you to stay in the call a little longer. There’s voyeur stuff too, but not in a subtle way. Sometimes the game throws you into these “remote access” scenes where suddenly you’re watching her in her bedroom, phone propped at a weird angle, ass filling half the screen while she thinks nobody is watching. You know that slightly messy AI generated look where the ass is too perfect and the boobs look like they cost half a salary? Yeah, that. It’s not “art”, but it hits that dirty brain spot.

What I liked is how your choices can fuck up everything without a big pop-up yelling at you. You go too hard too fast with one girl, she pulls away, suddenly your video meetings are all cold and formal, and the route quietly locks itself into the “you pushed it, now deal with it” ending. Another time, you play innocent for a while, pretending you care about her workload, and she starts teasing you herself, legs up on the desk during a call, panties clearly visible, pretending she doesn’t notice. Sometimes the endings are weirdly soft, sometimes they’re just “ok you fucked her, credits”, and sometimes the boss shows up and things get way more complicated and way more hot than they should be for an office game. Not everything looks perfect, some AI scenes have that slightly off vibe where a hand is like “what is that finger doing”, but honestly it kind of fits the dirty, not-quite-legal style of the whole story. You’re not here for gallery-level art, you’re here to be a corrupt bastard with a work laptop and too much access to horny coworkers, and the game really leans into that, then pretends it’s about “productivity”.

You play as this awkward dude, Sam, trying to look professional in an office where everyone pretends to be normal adults, while your new boss is basically the final boss of horny power games. Veronica Blackwell walks on screen in that tight office outfit and the whole vibe of the game changes. You can literally feel your mouse-hand getting more obedient every time she raises an eyebrow. It starts super tame: file this, fix that report, stay late for “just a bit more work”. Nothing wild. Then she starts getting handsy with your dignity instead of your body, which is way more fun. She locks you into this slow pacing, no skipping, no choices, just you watching Sam bend, inch by inch. And yeah, it is a kinetic novel, so forget about “I’ll just pick the dominant route”, there is none. You are the furniture. Accept it. At some point you catch yourself leaning closer to the screen when she mentions your “performance evaluation” and that says a lot about you and a bit about the writing.

What makes it hotter than it has any right to be is how casual she is about humiliating you. She talks about work metrics and career opportunities while making you kneel under her desk like it is the most reasonable thing in the world. There is a scene where she makes you clean her high heels with your tongue after a long day in the office and she does not even drop the corporate tone. She is checking emails on her phone while you are there on the carpet, licking the dirt off her soles, and she is commenting on your “attention to detail” like it is part of your internship report. The game really leans into feet and power stuff. Heels, stockings, her crossing her legs right in your face, you begging to touch or kiss her shoes and she just smirks and tosses you a command that feels more like a leash. And then, when you think it is “just” foot worship and soft humiliation, she pulls out that small metal cage for you. No warning, no drum roll, just a line like “I think you need help focusing at work” and next thing you know, Sam is locked up, hard but not allowed to be hard, if that makes sense. The writing milks that frustration on purpose. Every time she teases you after that, you can almost feel the cage squeezing. There is something messed up but very honest about that.

Art side is clean enough to do the job, nothing crazy, but the expressions matter a lot. Her smirk when you hesitate, the slight boredom when you try to resist, the way she looks down at you from the office chair like you are both a pet and a project. They reuse some backgrounds too much, but somehow that makes it feel more like an actual office grind. Same desk, same room, worse and worse situations. I was running this in Chrome with uBlock turned off for once, just sitting there on my second monitor like some degenerate pretending to answer Slack messages while Veronica is telling Sam he is not allowed to touch himself without written permission. The pacing is slow, yeah, sometimes painfully slow, but that actually fits the chastity angle too well. It is annoying and hot and annoying again. No big branching, no epic system, just a straight line falling deeper under this woman’s heel. And if that idea alone already gives you that weird tight feeling in your chest and lower, this thing is going to fry your brain in a pretty fun way.

Meet Francis, happily married to Evelyn. You hold down a good position at a large firm, and you juggle a busy schedule loaded with activities. But then one day, everything changes.

You discover your employer has been deceiving you, and the law starts closing in on you. You start to see that Evelyn is far different from the fragile wife you believed.

With money tight, Evelyn starts working a new job, and something about her new gig sets off alarm bells. That new manager of hers is well-known for his charm and lecherous ways.

Everything feels like it’s unraveling fast. Can you handle the truth behind Evelyn’s new job? Are you willing to risk everything to save what you have?

How you respond will change the course of your story. Immerse yourself in a raw game of secrets, seduction, and dangerous liaisons. One wrong step could doom you – how far will you go to protect what’s yours?

Brace yourself for an intense ride where nothing is as it seems. Start the game and choose your path through love, loss, and raw desire.

Your boss finally notices you, but not for the reason you wanted. You bust your ass at work, grind through pointless meetings, kiss enough corporate ring that your tongue should get hazard pay, and it actually pays off. Promotion on the table, big project, all eyes on you. Then he invites you to his place to “celebrate the new chapter” and you’re already half thinking about LinkedIn flex posts in your head. Instead you walk in and meet the real final boss of the game: his wife, wrapped in a tight dress that looks painted on, tits practically spilling, eyes locked on you like you’re dessert she ordered for herself.

She doesn’t even try to hide it. From the moment she leans in a bit too close to pour you a drink, her huge chest brushing your arm, it’s this slow burn of “this is wrong” versus “this is hot as fuck”. The game leans hard into that quiet, private tension. Soft little smiles, hands lingering on your shoulder a bit too long, her bending over the table to pick something up and making sure you can’t miss her ass straining the fabric. There’s no instant jump to sex, it’s more like she keeps poking at the line and watching you twitch. She corners you in the kitchen, finger trailing along the glass, asking if you’ve “ever had a woman who knows what she wants”. Boss is in the next room, rambling about quarterly numbers, while his wife slowly closes the distance, eyes half-lidded, tongue wetting her lips. At some point she presses you against the counter, her tits pushed up against your chest, her hand sliding down, fingers teasing your crotch over your pants like it’s just casual fun. And you’re there thinking, “Say no, say no” while your body is screaming yes.

The corruption angle actually hits different because you’re not some loser with nothing to lose. You built your way up, you care about the job, and that makes every handjob under the table at dinner feel ten times more dangerous. There’s this one moment where she invites you to “help” her in the study while the boss is on a call. Door almost closed, just a crack open, and she drops to her knees in front of you so casually it feels like she’s done this before. She looks up at you while unzipping you, like she’s daring you to pull away, and of course you don’t. Warm mouth, slow strokes, her lipstick smearing on your skin while she moans around your cock, then wiping her mouth with this smug little smile and going back out like nothing happened. The teasing is constant. She texts you after, sending pics of her in nothing but an open shirt, tits barely contained, saying she’s “bored when hubby is at the office”. Some routes let you push her further, turning that sexy wife into someone who basically lives to sneak around behind his back with you, climbing into your lap, grinding that big ass against you while she whispers how her husband never fucks her like you do. And yeah, part of you knows this will wreck everything you’ve been working for, but by the time she’s riding you on his couch, soft moans mixing with the sound of her skin slapping on yours, nails digging into your shoulders, you’re way past pretending you’re the good guy anymore.