Man, this One Punch Man parody hits different than I expected. You're playing as some wannabe hero trying to climb the rankings while dealing with Tatsumaki and other monster girls who are way more interested in fucking than fighting. The whole thing starts innocent enough - you're doing typical RPG stuff, training stats, picking dialogue options - but then suddenly you're getting handjobs from green-haired psychics and the game's asking if you want to use toys during combat encounters.

The turn-based system is weird because sometimes you're actually fighting monsters and sometimes you're just trying not to cum too fast during sex scenes. Like there's this one part where I'm battling some creature and the next screen I'm balls deep in her getting a creampie scene. The transitions don't make much sense but honestly who cares when Tatsumaki's giving you that look. Though I gotta say the humor lands pretty well - they nail that OPM vibe where everything's simultaneously serious and completely ridiculous. The protagonist's this skinny virgin type who keeps getting into situations way over his head, which tracks for the source material.

What threw me off was how the transformation stuff works - characters change during scenes but it's not always clear why or when it'll happen. One minute you're talking to a normal-looking girl, next she's got tentacles or whatever and you're doing anal. The masturbation mechanics feel tacked on too, like they needed to hit certain tags but didn't know how to integrate them naturally. Still, when it works it really works - the oral scenes with monster girls are genuinely hot and the whole "hero ranking" thing gives you actual goals beyond just seeing titties. Plus the parody elements mean you're not taking any of it too seriously, which helps when the plot gets completely bonkers.

Star Periphery feels like someone smashed a lewd dating sim into a busted space freighter and just left the whole mess running. You’re this skinny space nobody with more hormones than sense, tossed into a universe where every second woman has a thick cock, big tits, a mean streak, or all three, and half the time you’re just trying not to stare while your eyes are glued to their asses anyway. It starts pretty simple, wandering around this rusty station full of flickering neon and suspicious stains, but it sneaks up on you. One moment you’re just checking a cargo manifest, next moment a smug futa customs officer has you pressed to a wall, one gloved hand casually groping your ass while she pretends to be “searching for contraband.” That scene sold me, honestly. The way she keeps her voice calm and bored while you’re clearly leaking through your panties, teasing you with slow strokes over the fabric, then just walks away like nothing happened. Loved it. Actually I hated it because I had to reload after choosing the coward dialog and missing half the scene, but that’s another thing.

The voyeur stuff is weirdly strong here. There’s this bit where you end up stuck in a crappy hostel pod, thin bulkhead, cheap audio insulation, and you can hear a monster girl mechanic in the next room railing some poor femboy trainee. You only see flashes through a broken panel and some flickering HUD readout, but you hear everything. Wet slaps, his breathy little whines, her low voice telling him to “push back more, toy” while she spanks his ass red. No explicit camera angle, no heroic close-up of internal cumshots, just your imagination and some nasty audio. It feels more filthy than most straight up porn scenes. Then later the game turns around and throws full-on internal views at you, showing a massive futa shaft stretching your virgin ass open while some clinical scanner overlays data on muscle tension and depth. It’s kind of hot, kind of medical, kind of fucked. In a good way. Maybe. I’m still not sure. Anyway, the point is, it does both subtle and really not subtle, and sometimes in the same arc, which is confusing and nice.

What I liked most is how the romance sneaks into all the filth. There’s this MILF captain, big ass, heavy tits, looks like she bench presses starship engines for fun. At first she treats you like a disposable cabin boy, orders you to your knees for a “stress relief” handjob after a bad run, uses your mouth while checking navigation on her tablet like you’re just another system. The first time she titfucks you, she doesn’t even look down, just talks about fuel prices while your cock is sliding between her slick cleavage and you try not to cum too fast or she’ll mock you. Then hours later she quietly asks if you want to sleep in her bunk instead of the cold cargo bay, spoons you from behind, hard cock pressed between your cheeks, no sex at all, just this heavy warmth and her arm over your waist. It feels almost wholesome, then she wakes you up in the morning by grinding against your ass and whispering “open up for your captain” and you remember this is still a dirty game about turning a shy guy into a proper slutty trap. Or not, depending on choices. Sometimes you can dodge the sissification paths completely and stay a more standard sub guy, and sometimes you walk straight into a shop that sells sex toys and walk out in a thong, collar, stockings and a remote vibrator inside you because a smug futa tech-girl convinced you it improves your “crew performance.” I swear I was trying to play it cool and avoid that content, then I clicked one flirt option in a bar and suddenly I’m kneeling while she adjusts my stockings and spanks me for fidgeting. It’s messy, half-polite, half-degrading, and I kept clicking anyway.

College spits you back out, you drag your suitcase up the old familiar stairs, and the first thing that hits you is that weird mix of nostalgia and horny frustration. You’re supposed to be the “grown up” version of yourself now, but the house still smells like coffee, furniture polish and that floral perfume your grandma’s friend wears. She’s the one waiting inside. Not some generic landlady with rented room rules, but this older woman who clearly remembers you as “such a cute kid” and now can’t stop staring at the outline in your jeans when you stretch. The game leans hard into that shift, that strange moment where polite family-adjacent small talk slowly, painfully tilts into something that should probably be illegal in five different ways. It does not rush. It pokes at you. Constantly. Morning wood scenes, shower doors that never really close, “accidental” brushing of her tits against your back when she squeezes behind you in the tiny kitchen. You’re not being told “this is a porn game, go click sex.” You’re stuck in that half-realistic, half-fantasy zone where you creep around the hallway at night, phone screen low, pretending you’re going to the bathroom while you secretly hope to catch her bent over the washing machine again.

What hits hardest is how much of the actual play is just you existing in this cramped domestic space with people who all want something from you. Some want comfort, some want cock, some pretend they don’t want either. You spend a lot of time in small interactions: a hand on your thigh lingering just a bit too long during a movie, toes sliding up your calf under the table, a “help me with this zipper” that clearly doesn’t need help. One scene that stuck with me was when you’re on the couch with her, late, both tipsy, and she falls asleep half on your lap. Your hand ends up resting on her ass almost by accident. You can pull away like a good little boy, or you can let your fingers sink in a bit, feel that heavy warmth, smell her skin. If you push your luck she doesn’t jump, she sighs, like she’s been waiting for this exact mistake. It’s slow burn, but when it finally snaps, the game is not shy. You go from stolen glances to her on her knees, spit on your cock, mumbling how long she waited to taste you. There’s worship here, a lot of it. Your body is treated like a toy and a shrine at the same time: cock kissing, balls cradled, her laughing while she edges you with lazy strokes and then scolding you for almost cumming on her face without permission. At some point you realize half the house has their own angle on you, from the sweet virgin type who just wants cuddles and suddenly finds herself riding you until she squirts on your stomach, to the pushy one who uses your face like a seat and then pretends it never happened at breakfast. There is some goofy stuff too, like a cosplay night that starts as a silly joke and ends with you in handcuffs, her in a way-too-tight outfit, using a toy on herself while you’re forced to watch until she lets you join. The writing swings between affectionate and filthy in a way that feels messy, a bit clumsy, but honest. Sometimes the pacing drags and you’ll click through way too many “good morning” scenes for one butt squeeze, and a couple of side characters feel like they exist only to feed your dick without much personality. But then there is this tiny quiet moment where one of them curls up against your chest after a crazy group scene, tracing circles on your skin, whispering that she hopes you don’t leave again, and you realize the game is not only about fucking every hole in reach. It pretends to be just cheap smut, then throws in pregnancy talks, jealousy, cheating, a weirdly wholesome cuddle after you have her bent over the sink for anal. It’s messy, horny, a bit wrong, and strangely cozy in a way that will probably say something about your brain you didn’t want to know.

Game drops you in the shoes of this worn out crypto trader guy who honestly feels a bit like that dude who kept refreshing Binance while watching his life burn. You’re not some jacked hentai protagonist, just a dude who peaked during the meme coin bull run and then everything went to shit. Then Megan shows up, small-time actress, broke, stressed, but still trying to smile like she’s in some cheap Netflix drama that got cancelled mid-season. It sounds cheesy, but the game kind of leans into that and then spits on it, in a good way. One moment you’re talking about rent and auditions and gas fees, next moment she’s in your lap teasing you through your pants, acting like it’s nothing, and your brain goes completely blank. The wild part is how normal it feels before it gets dirty. Like, she’s scrolling TikTok on your phone, roasting your playlist, and then casually asks if you’re “always this hard when helping a girl with her portfolio” while her hand is already inside your boxers. That switch from “aw, she’s struggling actress” to “oh, she’s got your cock in her hand” is stupidly good.

The erotic stuff itself hits that mix of soft and filthy that most games completely fuck up. At first there is all this slow burn teasing. Megan wearing this oversized shirt, no pants, walking around your place like she owns it, brushing her tits against your arm “by accident”, stretching on the couch so her ass cheeks basically eat the panties. Then when things start, they really start. Handjobs with her watching your face more than your dick, little thumb strokes that make it feel personal, not like porn autopilot. Titfucks where her boobs are big, heavy, actually moving, not those stiff balloon things. Footjob scenes that are way more intimate than they should be, like she traps you with her heels on your chest, grinning, toes wrapped around the tip while she asks you why you’re breathing so hard. And yeah, normal stuff too: oral where she slobbers and gags, deep kisses that feel almost too romantic for a game with creampies and anal, her riding you with that “I pretend this is just to blow off stress” face while clearly catching feelings. Sometimes it even gets messy, like group scenes where you suddenly realize you might not be the only guy in her life, and that slightly ugly, jealous knot in your stomach makes the orgasm hit harder. There are routes where she chooses you, routes where she kind of doesn’t, endings where you’re filling her up like she’s your whole world, and others where you’re left wondering if you were just a step on her way up. It’s weirdly honest about romance and cheating and how sex can be both healing and fucked up. Porn game, yes. But also that thing where, after finishing inside her for the third time in one night, you catch yourself staring at her asleep on your chest and thinking, “Yeah, this is going to end badly,” and still not wanting it to stop.