Maya is a mess in the most relatable way. Girl wakes up horny, goes to class horny, comes back home even more horny, and half of the time she’s not even enjoying it, just zoning out with porn on her phone, doomscrolling Twitter between strokes, thinking about deadlines while fingering herself again. That kind of depressing, way-too-real masturbation loop. Then suddenly Heaven basically kicks down the door of her burnout life and tells her, “Congrats, you’re a chosen warrior, also your magic wand is that massive futa cock you keep failing to jerk off properly.” It sounds like a joke, but the game commits to it so hard it starts feeling weirdly earnest. One moment she’s choking on her own anxiety, the next she’s in a ruined chapel blasting horny demon girls with holy spells powered by edging herself. It absolutely should not work, and somehow it does.

What really hooked me is how it swings between horny clown mode and those quiet, uncomfortable scenes where Maya tries to act like a normal college student and just fails. You get her standing in a crowded hallway, clutching her phone, praying no one notices the bulge in her leggings while her “guardian angel” is whispering in her ear that she needs to go hunt succubi after midterms. Then cut to her in a forest, pants half-open, using her cock like a staff while a tentacled monstergirl coils around her legs and keeps trying to force a “you came, you lose” deal. The combat is turn based, but the rhythm of it feels more like edging than strategy: buff, tease, stall, big climax attack, try not to blow your load too early because you actually need that mana for the second phase. I like how blunt it is about failure too. Lose a fight, and you’re not just “defeated,” you’re getting milked, fucked, drained, creampied, used as a toy by whatever perverted thing you picked a fight with. Then you wake up back in your dorm like it was “just a dream,” still sticky, trying to pretend you’re fine on your way to group project meeting.

The sex is very “no modesty at all” in the best way. Maya titfucking older milfs that were supposed to be respectable professors, grinding her huge cock between their tits while they pretend it’s still about “extra credit.” Oral scenes where she’s deepthroated by a demon with a halo, or doing the choking herself during a sloppy blowjob behind a campus building, leaving mascara stains and cum streaks on the brick wall. Anal, vaginal, quick handjobs in weird places, masturbation scenes where she’s hunched over her phone in the bathroom trying not to moan as notification sounds keep popping off. And yeah, there are tender moments in all that filth. Monster girls that start as enemies turning into awkward half-friends you can date, sleep with, creampie, then actually talk to about your anxiety. One of my favorite bits is this goofy “training” session that just turns into mutual masturbation under glowing angel sigils on the ceiling while lo-fi style fantasy music loops in the background. It’s trashy, it’s horny, it’s often sad in a way that hits way too close to real mental health shit, and then suddenly you’re laughing because some demon just called her “Heaven’s cum cannon” and it actually kind of fits.

Lena looks like the kind of girl who should be in some boring office job, not standing half naked in a sweat-soaked ring with some psycho redhead trying to choke her out while the crowd yells for more tits. That clash is what makes this game hit different. You don’t start as some overpowered porn goddess, you start as a broke girl stuck in a shit city, dragged into sexfights because her idiot dad couldn’t stay away from cards. New Ipswich feels like one of those places from a trashy crime anime that never got a second season: neon, sleaze, and everyone pretending this is “just business” while they bet on who gets fucked on the mat. The whole sexfighting thing sounds silly on paper, then you’re in your first real match, Lena’s breathing heavy, sweat on her skin, the other girl grabbing her hair, and suddenly the humiliation hits harder than the punches. Either you dominate, or you get used. It’s that simple and that messed up.

The fights are not just button mashing. You switch from strikes and holds into sex moves so fast it feels illegal. One second you’re working a clinch, next second the crowd is chanting for Lena to “open up” and you actually consider it because if she goes full tease, she can flip the mental game. Let an enemy strip her top off in front of the audience and the shame drains her focus, but if you time it right and Lena turns it around, pins the girl, crotch grinding on her face, forcing her to lick while the camera zooms in on every wet detail, suddenly she’s the one owning the exhibition. I had this one match where I played it “nice” for too long, tried to win clean with jabs and throws, and the rival just snapped, mounted Lena, shoved fingers in her, rode her to a sloppy creampie in front of everyone and then walked off like she just claimed a trophy. I actually paused and stared at the screen like: “ok, that escalated.” It’s rude in a good way. Or a bad way. Depends how broken you are.

What caught me off guard is how the game leans into both sides of domination without pretending they are equal. Sometimes Lena is on top, literally sitting on a girl’s face, grabbing her hair, forcing her to eat her out while flashing her big tits to the crowd like she owns the whole damn city. Sometimes it flips and a bigger fighter or some smug guy just treats her like a toy, using her throat, pushing past her limits, making her cum against her will, then leaving her on the sticky canvas with that dazed, fucked-out look. The humiliation is not soft either. They taunt, spit, pull her legs open, finish inside her while the gamblers laugh, and the game just quietly nudges you like: “hey, she still has debts to pay.” It even has these quiet moments in the locker room after, where Lena is leaning against the wall, thighs still trembling, and you’re picking what she does next, who she confronts, whether she chases power or just survives. It almost feels romantic sometimes when she faces another girl who clearly wants her as much as she wants to win, tongue tangled with knuckles, lesbian heat right in the middle of a dirty brawl. Then some asshole promoter reminds you she’s just another body to bet on and the mood dies. That’s kind of the charm though: nothing is clean here. Sex is a weapon, a punishment, a reward, and half the time Lena’s not sure which one she’s holding.

You wake up broke, horny, and back in your old room that still smells a bit like teenage shame and cheap body spray, and the game just kind of grins and says, “yeah, this is where it starts.” You’re this young psychology guy who thought he had life sorted, then it all collapses and you crawl back to mom’s house. Only mom isn’t just “mom” anymore. She’s this thick, soft, dangerous kind of beautiful, the kind that makes your eyes slide over her curves against your will. She walks around the house in clothes that hug her huge tits and that insane ass in a way no actual mother should, bending over the couch while you pretend to look away and fail every single time. The camera loves her, almost too much. It lingers on the subtle stuff, the underwear line digging into her hips, the way her nipple outline threatens to show when she moves. You’re supposed to feel guilty. You don’t. Or you do, but it just makes your dick harder. It’s that kind of story.

Then there are the sisters, and yeah, the game knows exactly what it’s doing. The older one moves like a witch who realized she can control a room just by existing. Goth clothes, dark nails that look like they’d hurt when she scratches your back, eyes that tell you she thinks you’re trash but her body keeps betraying her, slower each day. There’s this moment where you “accidentally” walk in while she’s bent over her desk in fishnets, headphones in, skirt just not quite long enough, and the main character just stands there too long while you feel his thoughts going places they absolutely shouldn’t. Later, when the hypnosis angle really kicks in, watching her resist you with this mix of hatred and arousal, hips still grinding in spite of her words, that’s where the corruption hits harder than any sex scene. She spits insults while she rides your cock, then trembles when you ask her who owns that tight ass now, and her voice breaks on the answer. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. It’s both at once. The younger sister is the opposite weather: all pastel pink, soft hair, candy wrappers, plush toys, girly socks that should not look so good wrapped around your waist. She trusts you way too much. She curls against you during a movie, her small tits brushing your arm, and the game slows the moment just enough that you feel that sharp, dirty edge when your hand lingers longer than it should on her thigh. Later, with the mind control, teaching her to touch herself on command, watching her bite her lip while she obeys, that’s the point where “romance” and “corruption” almost merge into this twisted little love story that you’re not sure you’re supposed to enjoy so much.

The hypnotherapist is the real doorway drug. Mom’s friend, older but still tight where it counts, eyes that see too much and voice that rolls over you like warm honey. You sit in her office as “assistant,” pretending to take notes while she drops other women into deep trance, fingers playing with their minds and their bodies at the same time, and you’re there, hard under the desk, memorizing every word, every pattern. There’s a point when she leans down behind a patient and guides the girl’s mouth on a toy, whispering triggers, and your brain just goes click. After that, going home feels different. Sleeping bodies don’t feel safe anymore. The game leans into sleep sex in a way that’s almost too intimate. Like, you stand over your mom’s bed at night, listening to her slow breathing, watching her tits rise and fall under the thin fabric, and one tiny suggestion you planted earlier makes her legs spread a little. She mumbles your name in her sleep while you slide your hand under her panties and the guilt is there, but it’s distant, like a voice behind glass. Same with the sisters, those late-night scenes where the younger one is half-asleep, squirming and moaning softly as your fingers tease her soaked slit, or the older one clenching around your cock in her sleep, cursing you in her dreams while her body begs for more. The game doesn’t flinch from that dirty intimacy. It loves deepthroats that go too far, tears at the corner of her eyes, spit and mascara mess. It loves big tits bouncing while you fuck them, cocks sliding between them until you paint her chest white. It loves asses, god, the asses: thick ebony hips, mom’s juicy milf curves, your sister’s perfect goth bubble butt stretched around your shaft when you finally push into her tight hole and she squirts all over the sheets. Anal, vaginal, titfucks, creampies that drip out slowly while she walks around the house pretending nothing happened. Sex toys buzzing between thighs, collars and ropes appearing on the “good girl” routes that still somehow pretend to be romantic. There’s a weird tenderness under all that filth too, like when you watch your own cum slowly swell inside a belly on the pregnancy scenes, or when a character you’ve completely twisted still smiles at you like you’re her whole world. It’s wrong. It’s beautiful in a fucked way. It feels like you’re building a harem out of people who were once your family, your patients, your lovers, turning them into obedient, wet puppets and devoted partners at the same time, and the game just lets you keep going, deeper, softer, nastier, never really asking you to justify any of it. I just wish the text messages inside the game didn’t use that ugly default pop-up style, it pulls you out for a second, but then somebody drops to their knees, takes you so deep they choke, and suddenly you forget you were annoyed at all.

This thing calls itself “Life is Vanilla” but it’s really that messy, horny, half-true story everyone swears they’ll never tell in public, then dumps in a group chat after three beers. You’re in control of this awkward 18-year-old guy who talks big, watches way too much porn on his phone, and still loses eye contact whenever a girl actually pulls her top halfway up. It has that vibe of early uni convention season, where you’re juggling class, cheap weed, cosplay plans and wondering how the hell other people are already fucking in bathroom stalls while you’re arguing about Marvel canon. The tone jumps a lot: one moment it’s goofy jokes and dumb memes, then suddenly you’re watching your character get his first handjob in a cramped room and the camera just stays there, way too intimate, like you accidentally opened someone’s private Snapchat. It’s all 3D styled in a way that sometimes looks hot as hell and sometimes looks like everyone got slightly too much botox, but somehow that kinda fits the awkward sex energy. And yes, there is a lot of focus on big tits and big asses, not “tasteful” or subtle, more like the game knows exactly why most people click it.

What actually works for me is how it treats virginity and cheating in the same universe without pretending to be moral about it. Early on you’re still a clueless virgin who freaks out when a girl starts slow teasing, grinding on your lap while still fully dressed, just her shirt riding up and your brain short-circuits. Then later, you’re in these situations where some girl who absolutely should not be touching you is doing it anyway, like a “I have a boyfriend but he’s boring” type, sliding her hand into your pants while she keeps talking about totally normal stuff so no one notices. The game doesn’t pause to judge her, it just lets you enjoy the fucked up thrill. There is a scene in a shared apartment kitchen that really stuck with me, the kind of fake-casual exhibitionism where she “accidentally” bends over a bit too far, no panties, pretending to search a lower cabinet while the MC is desperately hiding his boner behind a cereal box. It makes group sex later on feel like a natural train wreck of all the small bad decisions. Of course there’s oral, creampies, clothes coming off in the worst possible order, that thing where a girl spits on your cock first and smiles like she just discovered a cheat code. Weirdly, the only thing that really annoyed me was one shirt texture on a side girl’s outfit that looked cheap as hell. I kept staring at it every time she stripped, which is the most unsexy complaint to have, but it just pulled me out of it and then I’d forget what line I was even reading in the scene. Anyway, it all plays like someone’s overconfident memory of their youth, mixed with shit that obviously didn’t happen, and that chaotic mix is kind of the whole charm, even when it’s trying way too hard and somehow not trying at all at the same time.