This Scooby-Doo parody hits different when you realize they actually made Fred watch from the corner. The gang's got this new guy who's basically speedrunning corruption routes faster than you can say "jinkies," and honestly? The outfits are what got me first - Velma's sweater gets progressively tighter each scene until it's basically painted on, while Daphne's whole wardrobe screams "I'm definitely not the innocent one anymore." But then the writing kicks in and suddenly you're watching Fred get absolutely demolished emotionally while this newcomer just... takes over everything. The animation style works surprisingly well for what they're going for, though I kept getting distracted by how Velma's glasses somehow stay perfectly positioned during the most ridiculous situations. Like, physics much?

The sandbox elements let you corrupt at your own pace, which sounds great until you realize there's actually optimal paths and you've been doing everything wrong for hours. Mystery-solving takes a backseat to mystery-creating, if you catch my drift. Daphne's scenes escalate way faster than Velma's, but that might just be because redheads are apparently easier targets in this universe. The group dynamics get wild when everyone's involved - there's this one sequence where the van is literally rocking and Fred's just standing outside looking confused. Poor guy never saw it coming. The dialogue tries too hard to be funny sometimes, throwing in "zoinks" every other sentence like we forgot what show this is parodying. But when the corruption really kicks in and the girls start suggesting their own "investigations," the writing actually gets pretty clever about subverting expectations.

What really sells it though is how they handle the trainer aspects - you're not just clicking through scenes, you're actively choosing who gets corrupted how and watching the ripple effects. The netorare elements aren't subtle at all, which honestly works better than trying to be coy about it. Fred's reactions range from oblivious to devastated, and watching that progression while Velma discovers she likes being watched is genuinely hot. Just don't expect any mystery-solving by the end.

Jake is that kind of guy you scroll past on Instagram, see the portfolio link, tap it “just to peek”, and then half an hour later you’re imagining how his hands feel when he tilts your chin for a better angle. That’s basically how this game feels. You’re inside his head, this up-and-coming photographer who pretends he’s all about “composition” and “light”, while his brain is absolutely stuck on the way that MILF client bends over the studio couch or how the model’s thighs part a little too slowly when she adjusts her pose. The whole story runs through his phone, like you’re living inside notifications. Chats lighting up, thirsty DMs, half-professional half-flirty messages from models who send “test shots” that are just softcore at first, until they’re not soft at all. One minute you talk about shoot locations and lens choices, next minute she’s asking if you’d keep filming if she took her panties off between takes. And you get to answer. You choose if Jake plays the sweet romantic type who pretends he’s shocked by a creampie joke, or the calm, dominant bastard who texts “Hold that position. Don’t move till I arrive.”

What surprised me is how much the game leans into the slow build. It teases the hell out of you. A model starts in nice, safe lingerie, doing normal fashion poses, but the camera angle keeps dropping, getting closer between her legs, her lips part a bit, her eyes lock on Jake, and you can practically feel the moment she stops “modeling” and starts actually wanting to fuck. You’re right there, POV, like you’re the one kneeling in front of her, adjusting the shot, while thinking only about how it’d look if she rode you on that same stool. There’s a crazy shibari segment too, really detailed, where a “creative concept” shoot turns into ropes sliding over skin, her wrists pulled back, chest pushed out, and you’re deciding how rough the vibe goes in the dialogue. It gets messy, in a good way: the game does not shy away from showing her stretched open, begging, then moaning when you finally finish inside her instead of pulling out like a good boy. It’s not only one girl either, you’ve got that slightly older client with the perfect mature curves, the more mysterious one who hides behind art talk, the one who acts like romance matters but clearly wants you to pin her to the studio wall. All wrapped in this phone-driven, modern life chaos where every unread message could be another chance for sex, another jealous hint, or another model offering you a “private session” with no clothes, no rules, just you, your camera, and how long you can hold back before you blow your load deep inside her while the shot is still recording.

You play as this awkward dude, Sam, trying to look professional in an office where everyone pretends to be normal adults, while your new boss is basically the final boss of horny power games. Veronica Blackwell walks on screen in that tight office outfit and the whole vibe of the game changes. You can literally feel your mouse-hand getting more obedient every time she raises an eyebrow. It starts super tame: file this, fix that report, stay late for “just a bit more work”. Nothing wild. Then she starts getting handsy with your dignity instead of your body, which is way more fun. She locks you into this slow pacing, no skipping, no choices, just you watching Sam bend, inch by inch. And yeah, it is a kinetic novel, so forget about “I’ll just pick the dominant route”, there is none. You are the furniture. Accept it. At some point you catch yourself leaning closer to the screen when she mentions your “performance evaluation” and that says a lot about you and a bit about the writing.

What makes it hotter than it has any right to be is how casual she is about humiliating you. She talks about work metrics and career opportunities while making you kneel under her desk like it is the most reasonable thing in the world. There is a scene where she makes you clean her high heels with your tongue after a long day in the office and she does not even drop the corporate tone. She is checking emails on her phone while you are there on the carpet, licking the dirt off her soles, and she is commenting on your “attention to detail” like it is part of your internship report. The game really leans into feet and power stuff. Heels, stockings, her crossing her legs right in your face, you begging to touch or kiss her shoes and she just smirks and tosses you a command that feels more like a leash. And then, when you think it is “just” foot worship and soft humiliation, she pulls out that small metal cage for you. No warning, no drum roll, just a line like “I think you need help focusing at work” and next thing you know, Sam is locked up, hard but not allowed to be hard, if that makes sense. The writing milks that frustration on purpose. Every time she teases you after that, you can almost feel the cage squeezing. There is something messed up but very honest about that.

Art side is clean enough to do the job, nothing crazy, but the expressions matter a lot. Her smirk when you hesitate, the slight boredom when you try to resist, the way she looks down at you from the office chair like you are both a pet and a project. They reuse some backgrounds too much, but somehow that makes it feel more like an actual office grind. Same desk, same room, worse and worse situations. I was running this in Chrome with uBlock turned off for once, just sitting there on my second monitor like some degenerate pretending to answer Slack messages while Veronica is telling Sam he is not allowed to touch himself without written permission. The pacing is slow, yeah, sometimes painfully slow, but that actually fits the chastity angle too well. It is annoying and hot and annoying again. No big branching, no epic system, just a straight line falling deeper under this woman’s heel. And if that idea alone already gives you that weird tight feeling in your chest and lower, this thing is going to fry your brain in a pretty fun way.

I opened Trapfield Hotel expecting cheap jokes, like the kind plastered over the usual porn-jam games that think one good tit jiggle equals writing. But this thing, weirdly, has personality - it doesn’t *care* if you laugh, moan, cringe, or all three. The first scene drops you right into the lobby, naked ego and literal everything else hanging out, and a boss who’s so tall and cocky she might as well have wings. She flirts in that half-mocking way that makes you forget it’s just text on a screen. It’s hot, but not sterile-hot. Like it’s someone smirking behind the monitor, teasing you, waiting for you to mess up your dialogue choice so she can make you regret it with a slap or a forced smile or - well, you can imagine.

Half the time I was laughing though. There’s this bit where you’re delivering towels, and the towel cart bumps into a femboy maid whose breasts bounce like they’re trying to escape gravity. He apologizes three times, blushes, and still finds a way to drag you into the staff room for “training.” The game just *leans* into that ridiculous energy, and somehow it works. It’s obscene and dumb and kind of brilliant. It’s like the dev watched a hundred hentai parodies and then decided to make one that actually feels alive, with just enough self-awareness that it never becomes boring.

Not everything hits - sometimes the dialogue repeats itself, and one room scene had lighting that looked like a fever dream, but maybe that’s on purpose; it kinda fits the corruption tone, like the hotel itself is drunk. The whole thing swings between dominance and submission faster than I can decide who’s winning. I caught myself rooting for the protagonist, then laughing when the milf receptionist literally turned him into her pet for forgetting to clock in. It’s chaotic, wet, over-the-top, and somehow honest, like it knows exactly what kind of filth it’s serving and invites you to enjoy how messy that is. Nothing polished, nothing polite, just raw kink with a wink.