It’s weird how this one tries to be a parody but ends up accidentally saying something kind of tragic about Kobeni, like she keeps blushing through the whole thing yet the game never lets her be just cute or just desperate - it’s always both, tangled together. I kept thinking the demon part would be the main hook, but nah, it’s more about that half-panic look in her eyes when you push too far and she still whispers your name. The timing mechanic feels stupid at first, tapping along while she’s choking or trembling, but then it clicks and suddenly you’re syncing with her rhythm in a way that feels too real for a joke game. It’s messy, literally and emotionally, and the moaning voice lines loop wrong sometimes, which only makes it better somehow - like catching someone mid‑breath and refusing to let them finish.

What gets me is how the corruption doesn’t even feel evil. You start off thinking you’re dominating her, but by day five she’s the one steering things, pretending not to, grinding slow while talking about losing her job as if your cock’s the only comfort left. The writing trips over itself, grammar all over, and yet every line lands because it sounds like someone actually flustered trying to talk dirty and failing. There’s a scene in the bathroom where the mirror fogs up and for a second you see horns behind her reflection, tiny, twitching, like she’s halfway yours already. Then she laughs too loud. Totally ruins the moment. But it sticks.

I’ll say though, the creampie counter? Completely unnecessary and also perfect. It forces you to notice time passing, like this gross little calendar of need. The parody label doesn’t save it from being hot, and the humor doesn’t stop it from being kind of sad. Maybe that’s why I keep replaying it, telling myself it’s for the endings, but really just waiting to hear her gasp that same broken syllable again.

FSS Lamashtu feels like somebody mashed up a cold war naval thriller with a filthy space brothel and then forgot which part was supposed to be serious. You’re the freshly minted captain of this “experimental cruiser” that is absolutely not built for exploration, unless you count exploring how many holes your crew can take in a single patrol. Officially it’s the proud weapon of the Alliance, last hope in a long-ass war. Unofficially it’s your floating fuck-lab, staffed with officers who look like they came out of a horny AI art generator after you typed “war crime but sexy” too many times. The ship layout screen is almost a character by itself: bridge, medbay, cargo, those little tucked-away compartments you quickly learn are perfect for “private disciplinary sessions.” You jump between menus pretending to care about fleet orders, but the only thing you actually remember is which corridor you cornered that technician in when she kept “accidentally” brushing her giant tits against you.

The story likes to pretend it’s about geopolitics and rebellion, and sometimes it even tricks you. You’ll get this long briefing about the Neo-Terran strategic line, convoy raids, morale of the Alliance, all that stuff. Then two clicks later, you’re watching a proud enemy pilot on her knees, mascara running, mouth full of cum while she tries to spit out her rank and serial number. The tone whiplash is almost funny. There’s a certain charm in how the game refuses to pick a lane: you capture prisoners, you break them in slowly or just slam straight into collar-and-chain slavery, you’re supposed to feel the “moral weight” of it, but the next scene has them begging for anal like they read the script ahead of time. The AI CG does that exaggerated wetness thing, where every hole looks like you dumped a bucket of lube on it, and every creampie is this ridiculous white flood that should qualify as a bio-weapon. Sometimes the faces twist into that extreme, over-the-top ahegao that doesn’t even look human anymore, more like a melted idol poster, and it somehow fits this world where war propaganda and porn have fused into one genre.

What sticks in my mind most is how physical the ship starts to feel. You’re not just choosing sex options, you’re shaping routines. That science officer who starts with stiff posture and carefully zipped uniform? A few “private evaluations” in your quarters, and suddenly she’s walking around with visible bite marks on her neck, trying not to react when you casually grope her in front of others. There’s a scene in the hangar where two captured enemy girls are supposed to be processed for interrogation, and you can decide if that means basic questions or “group demonstration of Alliance hospitality.” The way their bodies are posed, covered in semen from multiple angles, has that bukkake ritual vibe, everyone participating because the war needs “unity.” You get toy usage too, not just as accessories but as tools of control: a vibrator left inside during a formal strategy meeting, the slow dawning horror on your new slave’s face when she realizes the remote is in your pocket while admirals talk about casualties. The game never really resolves whether you’re a genius commander or just a sex-obsessed tyrant who got lucky with experimental hardware. At some point there’s a tender-ish lesbian moment tucked awkwardly between brutal scenes, two crew girls comforting each other after a mission, fingers exploring, tongues slow and hesitant, and for once you’re not in the frame at all. It feels almost like the game forgot its own premise for a second, then remembers, throws you back into forced deepthroat in a dark interrogation room, and moves on like nothing happened.

Tony Stark finally gets to act like Tony Stark here, not the sad movie version always saving the universe instead of getting laid. You start in this obscene luxury island mansion that looks like somebody mashed together a billionaire’s Airbnb, a secret SHIELD bunker and a nightclub from Miami that never closes. The game just drops you in as the smug asshole host of an endless “hero party”, with Gwen Stacy on the balcony checking city views, Raven pretending not to care in a dark corner, Supergirl trying to look wholesome while wearing something that would get you banned on Twitch, and you thinking about profit margins while also planning whose panties you’re gonna take off next. It sounds like a power fantasy because it is, but the fun part is how messy and horny it gets when the whole “management” part starts clashing with “I want to creampie every superheroine in this building”.

One moment I was in some fake meeting room talking business numbers with Stark’s AI, flicking through contracts like on Google Sheets, trying to keep the party budget from exploding. Five clicks later I’m in the pool area, flirting with Spider-Gwen, picking joke options about web shooters that really should not have worked, and suddenly the dialogue goes from snarky to filthy real fast. It has that thing where your choices stack up quietly, so after a few shameless lines and one badly timed compliment about her ass, she still ends up in your room casually stroking you through your pants like it’s just another Tuesday. The game treats handjobs as just a warm-up, not some big event, which is kinda funny because they animate it like it’s a ceremony. And when she finally climbs on top and you choose whether to pull out or fill her up, the game actually reacts in later scenes with her being a little more clingy, or weirdly sarcastic about you not knocking her up. I picked creampie first time just because the button was bright and I have zero self control, then spent the next in-game day sweet talking her like I didn’t basically turn her into my personal breeding experiment.

What I liked a lot is how the heroines don’t feel copy-paste. Raven is cold and slow to open up, which makes it absolutely priceless when she goes from passive-aggressive spell girl to pressing her soaked panties into your hand in the training room. Supergirl acts like she’s above normal horniness, until you catch her alone on the terrace and push a bit harder, then suddenly she’s begging you to fuck her like some random fan, not a symbol of hope. Black Cat and Wonder Woman show up later and kinda blow up whatever “plan” you had, since they respond better when you act even more arrogant than usual. There was this stupid moment where I promised Scarlet Witch I’d help with some experiment, completely forgot, spent the night pounding She-Hulk in the gym shower, and then had to deal with Wanda throwing me this jealous, half-psycho magic tantrum while still obviously wanting my dick. The tone is all over the place in a good way: one room you’re talking business strategy like a tycoon game, next room you’re raw-dogging a superheroine on Stark-branded bedsheets, hoping the AI doesn’t comment. It’s horny, dumb, strangely clever sometimes, and absolutely not interested in making you feel like a good person. Which is kind of the point when you’re running a never-ending party where every hero girl eventually ends up naked and breathing hard into your ear.

You wake up on this cold metal bed in a ship that hums like an old fridge and the first thing you notice is not the headache, not the missing memories, but that you are naked as fuck and someone hooked your body up like a toy. The game lets you decide pretty fast what that body even is, and it is not shy with options. You want a lean guy who gets pushed around and ends up on his knees? Go. You want a stacked futa with thick cock and tits that drip later when the drugs hit right? Also there. Female body with a dick, male body with a pussy, non-binary setup, whatever weird combo your furry brain cooked at 3 different tabs open on xVideos, it kind of lets you live that. Then the ship starts talking, crew starts showing up, and that whole “who am I” plot runs right next to “who the hell can I get to pin me to a console and breed me”. The crew is mostly guys, different vibes, some softer, some with that DILF energy where you just know they’ll pull your hair while telling you they’re doing this for your own good. It has that slow burn of corruption too, where early scenes are just teasing and “accidental” touching, then the choices pile up and suddenly you’re kneeling between two men, one in your mouth and one pressing at your ass, and you kind of know you walked yourself there step by step.

What I like is how it flips from talking about conspiracies and shady experiments into real filthy stuff without pausing to ask permission every time. One minute you are in some dark corridor snooping logs, next minute you got a hand around your throat, someone grinding your face against a bulge, and the text just spells it out. If you turn on the nastier kinks in the menu, the scenes get meaner, which I actually didn’t expect. I thought “oh nice, just more porn”, but then I hit a route where my character basically becomes a half willing slave for this calm older guy who keeps dosing you with some drug that makes you leak milk whenever he squeezes your tits. At first I was like, that’s too much, I’m just here for soft gay space romance, then there I am reading a scene where he fucks your ass on the captain chair, fingers your pussy or dick at the same time, orders you to keep eye contact while you cum and milk runs down your chest. It’s shameless. There’s humiliation edges too, like being made to clean up your own creampie with your tongue, or being passed around a small group while they comment on how tight you still are for “a well used toy”. It still tries to be funny sometimes, throws jokes in the middle of a blowjob, which kinda works and kinda ruins the mood, depends. One scene in the medbay has you strapped up for “exams” and the doctor uses toys first, slowly stretching you, talking about “data” like that explains why he has a vibrating plug with a remote, then he just goes in raw after your walls are gaping and you are begging half from embarrassment, half from need. There is also some interracial stuff later where they play with how “alien” bodies might feel, though right now most of them still look pretty human and I keep angrily waiting for real anthro options that will probably never come. Text based format actually helps here, your brain fills the gaps, so when they stack you for group sex, one cock in your mouth, one pounding your ass, one sliding into your pussy or between your thighs if you picked only one hole, it feels way more intense than some lazy clicker animation. You even get those small details, like fingers digging into your hips, someone groping your chest absentmindedly while talking business, a bored crewman getting a hand job in a storage room because he “caught” you snooping and decides you can pay with your hands instead of alarms. The game pretends it is all about choices and plot, and yes, there are combat bits and dialogs and moral stuff, but honestly the thing that sticks is that moment you realise you turned on almost every kink in the options and now your “lost in space” protagonist is on all fours in a locker room, ass dripping cum, balls or lips swollen, hearing boots stop behind them again and thinking “ok… maybe just one more”.