Year 2990, deep space, and you’re basically the kid your teachers warned each other about. Fresh out of school, still smelling like trouble and cheap synth-alcohol, one stupid fight with a pissed-off teacher flips your whole life sideways. His punch doesn’t just send you to the floor, it scrambles your brain in the weirdest way possible. Now your head is glitching with flashes of the future: little clips, seconds ahead, sometimes minutes, sometimes just enough to see someone’s clothes hit the ground before they even start unbuttoning. Not exactly the heroic superpower they write old holo-comics about, but in this universe, that kind of cheat code gets attention fast.

Next thing you know, you’re on a ship pointed at Andromeda. Not a rusty trash hauler, either. This thing is a flying sin palace with a mission attached. Whole crew full of women who look like they stepped out of some NSFW tagged folder you don’t talk about on main Discord. Big curves, tight suits that are clearly not designed for “safety”, and personalities that swing from sweet to absolutely feral depending who you’re talking to. There’s the one who pretends she hates your guts but keeps ending up alone with you in narrow corridors, pressing you into bulkheads and whispering in your ear. The scientist who talks about gene samples for way too long but somehow you both end up naked in a lab chair, her riding you slowly while pretending this is “for research”. And that pilot with the uniform two sizes too small, leaning over the console in front of you so her ass fills your entire view, calmly asking for your “guidance” on a new route like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing.

The future flashes mess with everything. You’re flirting and suddenly you see ten seconds ahead: her hand wrapping around your cock under the table in the mess hall. Or you kiss her and your brain jumps forward to the moment you’re buried deep inside her, her nails in your back, legs shaking while you fill her up. Then you snap back and have to pretend you’re not already hard. Sometimes you screw it up completely, say the “right” line too early, and she shuts down on you. Other times you nail it, say exactly what she needs, and it turns into this perfect run where you tease her all evening, then end up on her bunk, hips slamming, her begging you not to pull out while the ship’s engines hum under your feet. Yeah, there’s the whole “build a new world, make contact with aliens” thing going on, lots of big choices, politics, colonies, whatever. But half the time you’re in your cabin DMs, juggling three different girls, trying not to mix up who likes it slow and who wants you to pin her face-first into the mattress and pound her until her voice goes hoarse, leaving her dripping and full of your cum while you get that little flash of tomorrow, where she’s rubbing her belly and wondering if this time you knocked her up.

Everything plays out like a messed up dating sim wired straight into your dick and your bad decisions. You spend breakfast pretending to read mission reports while remembering how last night you had one of them on the bridge console, tits bouncing, your hands full of her ass while she moaned loud enough the ship AI politely raised the music volume. Sometimes you fuck up a choice and end up just getting a quick handjob in a storage room instead of the long, slow fuck you saw in your vision, and it actually stings a bit, like you missed a secret route. Other times you turn a small moment into a full-on harem scene: a future flash of two girls kneeling between your legs, swapping your cock between their mouths, one stroking your balls while the other begs you to cum in her mouth first, and you spend the whole day quietly pushing all the right buttons to make it happen. When it finally does, when both of them end up straddling you one after the other, slick and needy, taking your cum deep inside and moaning when they feel you throb and spill, you realize this isn’t just about being some space hero. It’s about how far you can push it, how many hearts and bodies you can collect around you, turning that glitch in your brain into a path toward a whole galaxy of warm thighs, messy creampies, and a harem that looks at you like you’re not just some punk who threw a punch at the wrong guy, but the center of their universe.

You wake up in this quiet little town with that annoying feeling that you already fucked up something before even getting out of bed. The locals look at you too long, like they know you from somewhere, but when you push them on it they just smile and act normal. That fake small-town nice. Then suddenly you’re bent over a table in the back of some workshop with a horny wolfman grinding against your ass, and he’s whispering your name like you’ve done this ten times already. You feel every slow push inside, claws on your hips, your own cock pressed against the cold wood. You cum hard, he fills you, it feels too sharp and too real to be a dream. And then you blink and you’re back in your room, clean, alone, your stamina bar exactly where you left it. No mess, no scent, no one remembers shit. Except you.

That’s the main kink here, I think. The game keeps gaslighting you with your own orgasms. You explore town in this loose sandbox style, poking into alleys, stables, a shitty little church that clearly isn’t holy anymore, and every place has someone who either wants to jerk you off, chain you up, or “help you relax” with their tongue. Sometimes you’re in control, like when you grab the cocky fox boy by the throat and shove him to his knees for a sloppy blowjob, making him gag while you hold his ears like a controller. Other times you misjudge your condition, your health drops too low, and you black out right when things get rough. Next scene, you’re waking up with bite marks on your thighs, cum still dripping from your used asshole in the text, but the town pretends nothing is wrong. That part messed with me a bit more than I expected. Like soft psychological horror, just with more anal creampies and collars.

Sex variety is wild but it’s not trying to be “epic” or fancy. You’ve got beasts pinning you down in the barn, a smug cat guy who only gives handjobs at first and then slowly corrupts you into taking him deeper every time, a priest who absolutely does not follow any book I’ve ever seen, public groping when you walk around too worn out and clearly begging for it with your body language. You think you’re topping, but the game loves flipping that on you. One moment you’re dominating some shy dogboy, slapping his ass while you fuck him, next loop he’s the one shoving your face into the pillow and fucking you raw because “you looked tired again”. The transformation stuff sneaks up slowly, too. Little changes after loops. Maybe your cock gets thicker, maybe you wake up with a tail and nobody comments on it like it’s totally normal. That detail feels very chiptune in my brain actually, like when a melody shifts one note and suddenly the whole groove feels off, but cool.

Multiple endings are there but the game doesn’t treat them like a big thing. It feels more like you’re nudging a corrupt save file and seeing how much more broken you can make the town and yourself. Go more submissive and you end up basically the town toy, used in alleys, filled and forgotten. Push more dominant and suddenly you’re the one corrupting them, turning “nice” villagers into cock hungry pets who don’t even understand why they crave you. And still, every “day” you wake up in that same damn room, like a soft reset with cum-stained memories only you can see. It’s all pretty fucked, in a good way, and a little bit in a bad way I don’t actually want fixed. If they polished it too much, it would lose that weird glitchy horny-dream vibe it has right now.

Stormhill looks fancy at first, all gold roofs and clean streets, but the game makes it feel dirty in a good way pretty fast. You’re the spoiled heir everyone secretly hates, walking through this city like you own every brick, and yeah, you kind of do. But the best parts are when that rich boy attitude crashes right into raw, sweaty street sex. One moment you’re being polite in some high-class hall, the next you’ve got a girl with ridiculous tits bent over a balcony while the whole district is right under you. The camera loves to sit a bit back, like it’s peeking, so half the time you feel like a creep watching your own scenes. There’s this bit early on where you corner a girl who pretends she’s too proud for you, all noble and cold, and then two lines later she has your cock in her mouth, mascara smudging while you hold her head and just use her throat. I thought it would feel generic, but the way she slowly stops pushing your hands away and starts going deeper on her own… yeah, that stuck in my head way too long. I still hate the font they use in the dialogue though. It’s stupidly small on mobile and I keep squinting, then forgetting I was even mad once her ass jiggles again in the next animation.

What really works is how the “gang building” thing is just an excuse to collect a harem that all needs to be put in their place. They say you’re trying to escape your father’s control, but half your choices are about how hard you’re going to control everyone else. There’s this scene in a dusty warehouse where you’re “negotiating” with a rival’s girl. Negotiation ends with her pinned against some crates, panties pushed to the side, and you sliding into her while she’s still trying to talk big. You grab her tits, they’re huge and soft, and you can watch the exact second she breaks, legs wrapping around you while you pound her ass so hard the boxes behind her start shaking. The game lets you choose to finish in her or pull out, but be honest, nobody is pulling out here. The creampie close-ups are stupidly detailed, like the camera gets almost too close, cum leaking back out while she’s still trembling and whispering your name. Later, there’s an alley scene where you’re supposed to just watch two side girls fool around, licking each other and grinding, and I swear I was planning to keep it “romantic”, then the option to join pops up and suddenly you’re shoving your dick into one while the other sits on your face. I think I hated that scene. Yeah. Totally hated it. The anal bits hit harder than I expected too, especially one rooftop moment where you press a girl against the railing, slide into her pussy first, get her all wet and noisy, then slowly push into her ass while she claws at the stone and begs you not to stop. It’s rough, it’s messy, and the game loves to linger on your hands groping every curve like they belong to you already. I opened it “just to test it” on my phone while waiting for a food delivery, and fifteen minutes later I’m hunched over my screen, thumb tapping through dialogue, completely forgetting I even ordered anything. The story tries to play deep with empires and politics and all that, but it honestly works better when it drops the serious act and just lets you be the absolute bastard king of a city full of big tits, big asses, and mouths that keep saying no while their bodies do something very different.

Epifania looks like some luxury fashion week gone rotten in the sexiest way. Neon on wet concrete, everyone pretending to be high class while they’re literally lining up for a hole in the wall. You arrive as this nobody with big hunger and zero connections, just you and this building that looks like an abandoned outlet store someone forgot to bulldoze. Then that Devil Investor shows up, all smug and perfectly dressed, like the kind of client who sits front row at a fetish runway show and buys the entire collection with one bored click. She doesn’t ask if you want in. She just throws you the mission: turn this wreck into the most profitable and depraved brothel in the city. And suddenly you’re balancing spreadsheets and cumshots in the same breath, which, honestly, feels familiar to anyone who tried to run an Etsy store while doomscrolling Pornhub.

First thing that caught my designer brain: the girls are not copy-paste dolls. You start “training” them and it feels weirdly like fitting models for a very, very illegal lingerie line. You watch them change from shy little things clinging to basic underwear into total predators who know exactly how to use lace, heels, and a dripping mouth. Some are sweet mom-types with soft tummies and milk-heavy breasts, the kind you’d shoot for an expensive maternity fetish catalog. You push them into public booths where strangers use them like shared accessories. That whole gloryhole section? It’s like designing a collection where the face is irrelevant, only the silhouette of thighs and tits matters. I hated how it turned me on. I loved how it turned me on. It’s messy like that. One night I focused on a single “pure” girl, double-checking her stats on my phone between Instagram stories, trying to keep her first time special then casually booking her into a gangbang room right after because the numbers looked good. The game doesn’t guilt-trip you. It just quietly asks: more clients or more conscience? And you already know the answer, you capitalist slut.

The management part is sneaky. You think it’s just clicking upgrades, then you realize you’re planning who gets which kink like you’re coordinating outfits for a runway lineup: anal queen here, bondage star there, the tall milf with heavy lactation in the VIP lounge that smells like perfume and sweat. There’s this weird thrill watching your building go from dusty warehouse to multi-floor pleasure machine, with private rooms, voyeur windows, and that one office where you handle “contracts” with potential corporate partners who want their own harem branch. I kept pausing, thinking how I’d design actual lingerie sets for them: soft leather harnesses for the submissive accountant type, transparent body stocking for the market manipulator who ruins competitors while taking a footjob on her desk. At one point I was negotiating prices for public use sessions on one screen and sketching a crotchless bodysuit in Procreate on the other, and it all just blended. The game lets you push the girls into pregnancy deals like they’re limited edition drops, fill them up, send them back out, watch clients line up for that. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. I still wish the interface didn’t hide some details in tiny menus like some cheap fast-fashion site, but then I catch myself zooming in on a courtesan getting her ass filled and I forget what I was annoyed about. Anyway, the city doesn’t care. You start with nothing, you end with a building full of moaning, swollen, used bodies and a bank account that keeps climbing every time someone walks through your doors. It feels like running a fashion brand where the models never leave the show, they just keep getting fucked harder behind the curtain.