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.

A lazy demon getting yanked out of his comfy hell and dumped in a house full of horny, chaotic witches is already a good start, but here it actually turns into a whole sandbox of “how much of a perv do I feel like being today”. You start as this summoned demon guy, technically a virgin in the human world sense, trying to figure out what the hell is going on while these girls poke, test, tease, and half the time forget they literally brought a supernatural sex machine into their living room. One minute they’re arguing about magic circles and some paranormal crap, next minute one of them is leaning over the table and you’re stuck staring at bouncing tits from first person view while she “checks your aura” with her hand way too close to your dick. The game flips between goofy jokes and really direct lewd stuff so fast it feels like watching a horny sitcom that suddenly remembers it’s allowed to show creampies and anal.

What I like is how it keeps that roguelike brain-itch of “ok, but what if I click the other option this time” without drowning you in stats. You pick if you want to be more obedient to the witches or lean into being a corrupting bastard, and that choice quietly changes the flavor of everything. Go softer and you get more teasing, romance, and these slow corruption moments where a “good girl” witch lets you grope her under a blanket and pretends it’s some kind of energy test. Go full demon and the same girl shows up later in a tiny outfit, practically begging to be spanked and filled in every hole while you talk shit in her ear. There are milfs mixed with younger-looking witches, big asses everywhere, big tits that jiggle when they strip, and the camera loves parking itself at that angle where you watch your own hand wrapped around a cock or a dripping pussy in POV. Sometimes you’re just jerking off secretly while they argue about magic, sometimes you’re in the middle of group sex on the couch with bodies piled up and someone still trying to keep up the “serious coven meeting” vibe. The humor is dumb in a good way, like that one time a “serious ritual” ends with a blowjob under the table while another witch pretends not to see, and there’s this whole lazy domestic thing where you’re conquering some mundane human object and somehow it ends with a handjob or a girl riding you after she loses a bet. Half the content feels like voyeurism you stumbled into, half feels like harem power trip where you decide who gets bred tonight and who just has to watch and masturbate. Sometimes they flip it and put a boot on your chest or sit on your face and take control, and sometimes you’re the one grabbing their hips, fucking them raw from behind, listening to them moan about getting pregnant in this new world they dragged you into. It’s messy, horny, funny, and just self-aware enough that when the witch you corrupted earlier walks past in a too-short robe and “accidentally” flashes you, you know the game is winking at you as hard as she is.

Emily is one of those girls you swear you met in college but can’t quite place. Smart enough, cute enough, a bit basic at first sight, then ten minutes later she’s torn between finishing her assignment and sending nudes to a guy she just met at a shitty bar. That’s basically the whole mood of this game: watching her pretend she has her shit together while you quietly push her toward being either the good girl her profs love or the slut the whole campus whispers about. You’re not some faceless god here, more like the nasty little voice in her head that tells her “eh, one more drink, what’s the worst that can happen?” and then suddenly she’s blowing a married teacher in a locked classroom with her panties stuffed in his pocket. The nice part is how small choices snowball. You tell her to “just flirt a bit” with the muscular black guy from her study group and later you’re sitting there like, okay, now she’s on her knees with mascara all over her face and a grin that basically screams ahegao thumbnail. And the game does not shy from showing you every messy angle of that.

What I liked is that it doesn’t scream “corruption route / pure route” at you in big neon text, but you feel it anyway. One night she’s crying in her room, hugging her phone, deciding if she should stay loyal to her sweet boring boyfriend, next night she’s in some shady hotel room doing live cam masturbation with a vibrator she bought with blackmail money. That jump feels wrong and hot at the same time. Stuff like voyeurism is slipped in almost casually: your choice to peek at someone in the dorm showers “just out of curiosity” suddenly turns into Emily realizing people are watching her too, and instead of freaking out she starts putting on a little stripper show, slow teasing, panties slid down just enough to get the viewer hooked. Then the game turns around and drops a soft romance scene where she’s half asleep, giving lazy oral to her guy in bed, nothing wild, just quiet and intimate, and you think maybe she can be normal. Ten minutes later she’s letting a milf neighbor “teach” her how to please older men and the whole thing feels like you scrolled too far on Pornhub and forgot to stop.

The school setting is used more like a pressure cooker than just a backdrop. You get those dumb normal scenes like group projects and cafeteria gossip, and then out of nowhere someone threatens to leak her nudes unless she “earns” their silence, and that opens the door to prostitution stuff that starts kinda tame and then gets dark. Not “torture porn” dark, more like “she smiles but you know she is owned now” dark. Some paths put Emily on top too, by the way. There is this one route where she figures out very fast that horny men are idiots and starts using female domination tricks on a nervous dilf teacher, making him pay for private “tutoring” while she toys with him using her mouth and then pulls back right before he finishes, total power trip. Sex toys show up in fun ways, not just “here is a dildo, click to use”. Like she goes from shy bedtime fingering to riding a buzzing plug during a serious class presentation, trying not to let the sound escape her lips while her classmates discuss something dumb like group theory. I’m still annoyed that one of the endings locked behind a really small choice about her outfit on the first day, I picked the sweater because I thought “ok, cozy” and then later figured out that the skimpy dress opens a whole extra blackmail chain I missed, but fine, that’s on me and my fake morals. The point is, Emily doesn’t just flip from saint to whore in one click. She slides, stumbles, laughs, cries, makes horrible decisions that you kind of pushed her into. And watching her cross those lines, one blowjob, one strip tease, one “accidental” creampie at a time, is where the entire thing really gets under your skin.

Guy just wants some cold air and maybe a drink, ends up trapped in the quietest, horniest little horror-comedy grocery store on earth. That’s the vibe here. You walk in, sun burning your brain, and suddenly the outside world just kind of... blinks out. The door locks, shelves feel slightly wrong, lights flicker like they’re trying to flirt, and there she is behind the counter: tiny goth clerk with a stare like she already knows exactly how weak you are. Not the cliché latex dominatrix thing, more like “sleep-deprived art major who could crush your soul with one sarcastic comment” mixed with “MILF energy in training,” if that makes sense. Big tits under a cheap t‑shirt, jeans, zero effort styling, but somehow she looks like a walking fetish ad that forgot to be subtle.

The weird part is, nothing technically “happens.” No actual sex, no naked bodies flying around, nobody jumping your dick. It’s all edging, all mind games, like the game is blueballing you on purpose and laughing. She’ll lean over the counter just a little too far, bend down to grab something so her ass lines up perfectly with your eyes, stretch like she’s in a yoga ad, then act like you’re the creep for looking. She calls you out for every tiny reaction, every stolen glance, like she’s reading your browser history in real time. At one point she casually drops a line about how “guys like you are easy to rewire” and the screen does this tiny flicker and yeah, you feel it. Not jump scare, more like you skipped a frame in your own head. You’re not sure if she’s hypnotic or just really good at gaslighting, but you start clicking through lines faster, waiting for some kind of payoff that never quite lands. It’s a kinetic novel, so no choices, no branches, you’re just strapped into her vibe. That’s kinda annoying and kinda perfect. You keep thinking “ok, next scene she’s gonna finally do something,” and instead she just mocks you, teases harder, leans in with that bored stare and explains exactly how she could make you crawl with a single word. Then nothing. Then a joke. Then she looks straight at you again and tells you you’re breathing too loud.

What got me is how the voyeurism hits without any peepholes or secret cams. You’re just there, stuck, watching her do normal clerk stuff while she very obviously watches you watching her. It flips around, like you become the thing on display. She wipes down the counter real slow, checks her phone, pops gum, types something you can’t see, then smiles in that “yeah, I just changed something in your brain” way. At one point she makes you read signs on the wall, stupid boring rules, but the text starts feeling like commands, like she’s training a dog. She never raises her voice, never goes full “kneel, worm” mode, but you still feel dominated, like your dick is on a leash you can’t see. The humor is messed up in a good way too; she’ll roast your porn tastes, call out your search terms, then switch to dead-serious for two lines and talk about control and consent like a late-night TED talk in a haunted 7‑Eleven, then immediately ask if you’re thirsty. Zero subtle transition. The art is rough but kinda perfect for it, she’s cute and a little off-model from scene to scene, which almost sells the idea your memory is being edited. There’s no big climax, no “and then you bang her” scene, it just leaves you horny, slightly confused, and lowkey worried she’s going to show up in your dreams and make you apologize for scrolling Twitter during the dialogue.