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.

You load it up in a bored mood, thinking it will be just another horny office thing, and then suddenly you are sitting in this glossy fashion magazine, surrounded by women who all look like they walked out from some Instagram explore tab that you pretend not to check. HauteBeat hums in the background, that soft loop of office AC, a distant printer, heels clicking across the tiles like a metronome for your dirty thoughts. The protagonist is this fresh graduate, all awkward, shy, still a virgin, and the game really leans into that. He stammers when the editor-in-chief leans over his shoulder, her blouse just a little too open, her perfume basically choking him. The scene where he is alone with the secretary in a tiny meeting room, with the glass walls and everyone outside pretending not to look, that one hit me. She lowers her voice, asks if he understands what “loyalty” means in this office, and every click through the dialogue feels like you’re holding your breath, waiting for the moment her hand actually lands on his thigh. There is no rush, but also no mercy. The pacing is like that slow elevator ride where you already know you’re going to do something filthy when the doors open.

First choice that really made me stop was when you decide if he keeps his “good boy” energy, or starts testing his new power over these women who pretend they’re in charge. One path he plays the sweet intern, trying not to stare at his boss’s big ass every time she bends over a layout. The other path, he starts using what he learns about them, their little secrets, and the mood shifts from nervous to predatory. There is this one route with the married coworker from accounting, the one who always has her phone face down on the desk. She invites him to “help” with some files after hours. Music drops out, it is just the wet sound of her lips when she finally slides under the desk and starts sucking his cock right there, while the screen shows the office lights reflecting on her lipstick-smeared mouth. Her wedding ring catching the glow every time her hand strokes him is such a petty detail, but it sticks. And yes, later, if you push it, you can corrupt her properly, going from quick blowjob breaks to bending her over the office copier for anal, watching that big ass shake while the machine spits out useless sheets.

Not every scene is perfect. One of the titfuck moments feels a bit rushed, like they knew she has massive tits so they just went “ok, put dick between them” and moved on. But then another girl, the one styled like a cold, distant creative director, drags him into the wardrobe room full of clothes for the next shoot. She sits him down on a low bench, climbs on his lap like it is a throne, and the sound design quietly peaks. You hear fabric sliding, hangers tapping, her little moans that she tries to swallow because there are still people a few meters away. When she finally sinks down on his cock, the angle almost makes you feel that stretch yourself, slow vaginal grind that turns into rough fucking and then spanking her ass so hard the clothes around them rustle. The corruption is not just “she is horny now”, you feel how some of them start asking for it. The secretary who once flirted safely is later begging to be used under the desk while the boss is in a video call. The boss who once scolded him starts testing how far she can go before completely giving in. It is all choices and branches, but it never feels like a math problem. More like you are texting three people on WhatsApp at the same time, promising each of them something different, knowing at least one is going to get hurt and you kind of want that. And yes, the protagonist is inexperienced, but by the time he has a little harem of coworkers sucking, riding, getting spanked in the break room, he is not pretending to be a nice guy anymore. Or maybe he still is. Depends what you click.

Doom finally stops playing the Saturday morning cartoon villain and starts doing the dirty work everybody always joked he was doing off screen. "Behind the Doom" is basically what happens when a control freak supergenius decides world domination is fine, but ruining Susan Storm’s life from the inside out feels a lot better. It’s a slow burn kind of filth. At the start he’s showing off his shiny Latverian utopia, talking like some tech bro on a TED talk, pretending he cares about peace and progress. Underneath that armor he just wants one thing: Susan kneeling between his legs, wedding ring and heroic ideals both slipping off at the same time. You go from stiff political speeches to her staring up at him with drool on her chin and mascara running, and it somehow feels like a natural career path.

What I liked is that the game doesn’t rush to the hardcore. It lets Susan still believe she’s the good guy for a bit. She thinks she’s just “investigating” Doom, helping the world, being responsible. Then he starts playing with her invisibility in the most perverted ways. Ordering her to suck him off while she’s half invisible, so only her lips and tongue are visible wrapping around his cock, the rest of her fading in and out like she’s glitching from shame. There’s this one scene where he makes her hide under a table while a big diplomatic meeting goes on above, and her job is just to keep him hard with her mouth the whole time. The camera keeps jumping from the stone serious political chat to her swollen, stretched lips working on him under the armor. That moment stuck with me more than the flashy stuff, honestly. It’s the casual way he treats her like a background function now, like breathing or blinking.

Then the game remembers there are other heroines to break and just casually drops Scarlet Witch into the mess, like “oh yeah, magic slut, forgot about her.” Wanda starts as this smug powerhouse, acting like she’s above his tech, and two scenes later she’s helping him train Susan, rewriting her own morals while he rewrites her body. When they both end up on their knees, trading his cock between their mouths, Wanda using her powers to hold Susan’s hands behind her back so she can’t even stop herself from pushing deeper, it’s completely degenerate in the best way. Anal stuff hits harder than I expected too; Doom doesn’t go straight for brute-force pain, he makes it a reward, a “promotion” in his twisted little company. The first time he takes Susan’s ass, he does it on a balcony overlooking his perfect city, making her watch the peaceful streets while he grinds her open, whispering how this is what real stability looks like: her bent over, his cock buried in her, invisible or not, everyone beneath them belonging to him. It’s not subtle, it’s not romantic, it’s just cynical, nasty corruption porn with capes, and it works way better than it has any right to.

Your phone is the real main character here. Not the guy you play, not the girls with the soft smiles and way-too-tight jeans, but that stupid little screen that never stops buzzing at the wrong time. You start with this cozy, slightly boring relationship, the kind where you already know how she takes her coffee and what porn tabs you keep half-hidden. It feels safe. Almost too safe. Then the messages start getting weird. Notifications pop up that are just off enough to make your stomach sink. A heart emoji from someone you barely remember. A photo cropped just a little too carefully. A chat thread with way too many deleted messages. You are not supposed to see some of this, and the game knows you want to.

The whole thing plays out like you are stuck between two chats at once, trying not to fuck everything up while also kind of wanting to. You switch between talking sweet to your girlfriend and flirting with someone you probably should not even be typing “hey” to. One second you are apologizing for being late to dinner, next second you are staring at a close-up of a huge ass pressed up against a mirror, trying to decide if you send a horny reply or leave it on read and pretend it never happened. The game likes to tease you with those little choices. Do you scroll further down the gallery and risk seeing something that will ruin your night, or put the phone away like a good boy and pretend the problem is not there. Obviously you scroll.

The cheating stuff is not just “haha, sex with someone else”, it is more like slow poison. Your guy reads a message, hesitates, lies about it in the next scene, and that small lie echoes later when she looks at you just a bit too long and says “you alright?” while her own phone buzzes face down on the table. There are AI-style CGs of her bent over the couch with her hair messy and her ass taking up half the screen, but the more you stare the more you keep thinking “who took this angle” and it stops feeling safe at all. One scene really hit: you are on voice call with your girl, she is telling you about her day, and in a side chat some other woman sends a bathroom mirror nude, wet skin and fat ass barely covered, with a tiny caption like “you thinking of me?” and the game just lets both conversations sit there at the same time, forcing you to juggle guilt and lust like some horny clown.

Sometimes the romance hits in a messed up way. There is this quiet late-night text where she admits she is scared of losing you, right after you spent five minutes scrolling a chat that makes it pretty obvious someone already had their hands on her. Or maybe they did not. The game is a liar and it enjoys that. You can be gentle with her, call her cute pet names, send selfies of your chest, and it almost feels wholesome… until you notice a tiny reflection in a glass door in one CG that looks like another guy’s shoulder in the background. Could be nothing. Could be everything. The tension is less “will I get laid” and more “who is fucking who behind whose back while everybody smiles and says goodnight”. And the wild part is, you keep pulling the phone back up anyway, swiping through chats like a junkie, hoping the next message hurts a little less or a lot more. Hard to tell which one you actually want.