You wake up in Eroselle with a hard-on, a shitty reputation, and zero clue how this world even works. Perfect combo. Everybody acts like your arrival is some bug in the code of reality: the King looks at you like trash, the Princess talks like she’s already bored of you, but the magic in this place wants to crawl under your skin. And yeah, that includes the girls. This is one of those worlds where the economy basically runs on tits and spells. You wander through this “proper” fantasy city and every alley feels like it’s watching you. Tavern girls with ridiculous hips bending too far over the tables, big-ass noble ladies pretending they don’t like being stared at, mages with robes that hide nothing when they lean down to “help” you study. The game pretends it’s about politics and war, then gives you a chance to grope a busty elf in a library corner because you picked the flirty dialogue instead of the “responsible” one. And the best part, the bodies don’t feel copy-pasted. One girl has this heavy, natural chest that jiggles when she laughs at you, another has that tight, perky pair that looks amazing when she’s on her knees, hand around your cock, teasing and stalling like she’s grinding XP out of your frustration. Animations are not perfect, sometimes the mouth-sync looks a bit cursed, but somehow that makes it hotter. Like weird porn you accidentally replay ten times.

The whole “goddess of lust” thing isn’t just flavor text. Your dick is basically your skill tree. You flirt, you grope, you eat pussy, you suck on those soft big tits, you let them stroke you slow with oil and whispered dirty talk, and you actually get stronger. Unlock a new power, go back to town, suddenly that shy witch who used to blush and run away when you complimented her ass now drops to the floor and starts licking the sweat from your abs after a fight. I had one scene where I’d just finished a quest in the forest and my health was low, and instead of using a potion, this cute healer girl drags me behind a tree and says she can “channel” extra energy through her mouth. Cut to her on all fours, face buried in my lap, slobbering and moaning every time I twitch in her throat, with those huge tits hanging and swaying under her. That was the moment I forgot there was even a main story. Then later I tried to min-max the romance routes like some nerd in a Google Sheet and the game went “nah” and locked me out of an option because I’d been too much of a slut with random NPCs. Slightly pissed me off. But then a new scene popped with a jealous princess riding me angry, biting my neck, calling me a pervert while grinding her fat ass down and telling me I belong to her. So whatever, I forgave it instantly. It’s messy, horny, sometimes goofy as hell, with that cheap fantasy humor where a magic spell backfires and suddenly you’re stuck in a bathhouse with three wet, naked girls and no towel, only your hands and your rising problem. Feels like the game is laughing with you, not at you. Or maybe at you. Hard to tell when your screen is full of bouncing tits and dirty whispered lines that actually sound like a real girl losing control, not some clean, polished script trying too hard to be sexy.

Your phone buzzes, you open this goofy little mobile game thinking it will be some cheap horny clicker, and suddenly you’re face to face with your childhood friend who did not just “grow up” but basically turned into a walking gym ad with a soft smile. She’s huge in all the best places, thick thighs filling the screen, arms like she could lift a car or you, and yeah, the boobs are basically their own characters. The first thing she does is pull your scrawny nerd body into a hug, crush you against her chest and the game actually lingers on it, like “no, you sit with this, feel how small he is next to her.” It feels half wholesome, half “I might suffocate between these.” The art is 2D but animated enough that small details like flexing biceps and ass jiggle actually matter. That first scene where she picks you up easily while teasing you for being still a twig, then casually asks if you “missed these” while squeezing her tits together? Yeah, that sets the tone.

The structure is simple, but in a way that kind of works for the horny brain. You’re the male protag, total nerd, clearly out of your league, and she knows it. Every interaction is her pushing a little more, like a cat playing with a mouse she’s very fond of. One moment she flicks your forehead for staring at her ass too long, next moment she pretends to be offended and makes you “inspect” her muscles close up to “make sure you appreciate her gains.” There’s a scene where she traps you between her thighs on the sofa just to show off how strong her legs got. You can see the veins, the muscles flex, and the game lets you choose whether you squirm or just accept your fate as thigh pillow. Romance is sprinkled in there, but always tangled with physical contact. She strips down piece by piece, laughing at how red your face gets, grabbing your hands and pressing them to her abs, then lower, then higher. It’s teasing that borders on bullying but you can feel she deeply cares, which makes it even more unfair when she pins you to the bed with one arm like it’s nothing. There’s one interaction where she makes you hold her phone and record as she flexes and twerks right in front of you “for her gym account” and her shorts ride up so far you’re basically filming pure ass. The game lets you zoom in. Of course.

What I liked most is how the femdom vibe isn’t cold or mean, it’s this playful “I’m strong, you’re cute, shut up and let me spoil you” kind of energy. She gropes you almost as much as you grope her, except when she does it, it feels like you’re being checked, tested, measured like a toy. There’s a bit where she makes you count her reps while sitting on her back and you keep losing count because her sweaty top is see-through, so she “punishes” you by flexing in your face and demanding you describe every part of her body in detail, from her big tits to her huge ass, until you’re basically confessing your kinks out loud. The whole thing is horny as hell but strangely sweet too, like the game really wants you to feel safe being manhandled. If you want the most out of it, play with sound on, don’t skip her teasing lines, and lean into the choices that let her take control, because the more you let her lead, the more she presses your face into every thick, soft, overtrained part of her body.

This one hits like a fucked up Valentine’s card somebody dipped in blood and spit on. Oridelle is not a “heroine,” she is a girl who died, got dragged back, and now thinks the only reason she exists is to suck off the guy who saved her. That’s the whole emotional center of the game: her on her knees, him on the throne, and you sitting there clicking through that sick loop of “thank you for saving me, please use me again.” It feels almost too intimate sometimes, like reading someone’s horny therapy diary that got infected by a horror manga. The tone flips a lot. One minute she is this soft, almost cute corpse-girl whispering how grateful she is, and three lines later she is giggling like a brain-poisoned bimbo about how her mouth is “perfect for him” and nothing else matters. It is erotic, yeah, but there is this rotten taste under it, like you bit into candy and it was raw meat.

The horror wraps itself around the sex instead of fighting it. Every time she drags herself back to that coffin, body resetting, clothes fixing, face going back to the “normal” Oridelle, it feels like watching a save file overwrite a human being. She goes out, gets broken a little more, comes back, looks the same. Inside she is not the same. You can feel the split getting wider, her real self trapped under this shiny, porn-brain alter ego that thinks being his perfect cocksleeve is holy work. Some scenes are almost boring in how focused they are on his dick and her mouth, and then suddenly one line pops where she begs him to call her by a name he gave her, not her own, and it hits harder than the actual blowjob. The game keeps telling you, quietly, that she is already dead, just not all at once. And still you keep clicking, because the pacing is like a slow, dripping faucet you kind of hate but keep staring at. Sometimes the writing leans too hard into “bimbo talk” and loses that fragile, tragic vibe I liked at the start, but then there is a moment where she hesitates before opening her lips and it all comes back. I wish there was a way to pull her out, to give her a route where she looks at him and says “no,” but the whole point is that she will not. She crawls back, every time, happy to be used, proud of how empty she can become for him, and that is what makes the whole thing stay in your head after you close the tab and pretend you are just going to check Twitter.

I played Brothel Virgin like I was trying to sketch lace on a body that wouldn’t stay still. It’s messy and kind of hypnotic, and that’s probably what I liked about it first. The world feels like velvet that’s been worn too long - soft but a bit frayed, and when the screen fades into the room at the Crimson Reverie, there’s that quiet hum I only get at the end of a runway show when everyone’s pretending not to be aroused by the models. Jenny’s laugh sounds like lipstick smudging against a glass; I kept replaying her intro scene hoping she’d say my name differently, slower. She doesn’t. Small thing but it bothered me. Still, the lighting in her room (well, if you can call it lighting, it’s more like a blush across the walls) made me forget it fast.

Matty’s design confused me. She looks like she was drawn by someone who loves stretch marks too much and I respect that deeply. Her scenes go from comforting to - how do you say - sticky? I’m used to games where every gesture feels rehearsed, but here her hands have this clumsy warmth that almost made me feel guilty touching the screen. Maybe I’m just too sentimental. Then Raven shows up and she wrecks all that tenderness with one smirk. There’s a sound cue before she appears - like a zipper halfway down - and it’s cheap, but it works. I hate that it works. Her storyline plays with all those moments between dominance and longing, and I kept thinking about fabric texture again: latex pretending to be silk.

Some transitions drag; some dialogues feel written by two people who never met. But that’s part of the charm. It’s not perfect, not even close, but neither are the bodies it celebrates. Sometimes I caught myself wondering why the brothel walls shimmer like oil, or why Jenny doesn’t blink enough. Doesn’t matter. The thing is, if you stop expecting polish and just lean into the heat, like, really lean, you’ll find your own reflection looking back at you through those impossible colors.