This thing feels like someone grabbed the filthiest route from a bigger game, ripped it out, and just said “ok, this is the whole story now.” You’re dropped into Alena’s school life where she’s basically the official toy for every horny girl on campus, and it never even pretends to be fair or nice to her. She’s the “good girl” type at the start, shy and sporty at the same time, then every click pushes her deeper into this mess of uniforms getting pulled aside, panties shoved down, and way too many curious hands. It’s not some slow, romantic corruption either; it’s that “you’re already fucked, you just haven’t realized how much” style. First five minutes I went from “oh, poor Alena” to “ok yeah, she kinda looks hot with that tear streak and drool on her chin” without even noticing when my brain flipped.

The school setting is used in that dirty-fantasy way: empty locker rooms that are never actually empty, back corners of the gym where everyone somehow hears everything, classrooms where the door is fake privacy and half the girls outside probably know exactly what’s going on inside. There’s one scene where they make her keep her sport uniform on, just push the shorts aside and pull the top up, and it hits way harder than full nudity. She’s being ordered to bend over the equipment like she’s still just doing training, except instead of a coach yelling about stretching it’s a smug classmate smacking her ass until it turns red and then stuffing something inside her because apparently fingers weren’t enough. I liked how the game pretends you have “management” over her schedule and choices, but in reality the options are mostly like: “do you get used in the locker room or do you get used in the hallway where someone might walk past and laugh.” The illusion of control fits the humiliation vibe too well, to the point it actually annoyed me, but in a way that kinda works for the kink.

The animated scenes are where it really lives. They’re not super fancy, but the movement is just enough that when she’s on her knees, mouth full and eyes rolled up, you can watch that little jerk of her head when the girl in front of her grabs her hair and just jams it deeper. One angle shows her face going from scared to that stupid ahegao look, tongue out and everything, while another angle focuses on how far the toy or dick or whatever is actually inside. Sometimes they make her use toys on herself in public spots, like sitting her on some vibrating thing in the gym while other girls pretend everything is normal, then someone quietly flips the intensity up while asking her questions so she has to answer while her body is freaking out. There’s also this brutal bit where she’s pinned between two girls, one using her mouth, one taking her from behind, and they play it like a “test” she has to pass, spanking her whenever she slows down. It pretends to have different endings and “paths” depending on what you click, but honestly the real difference is whether she ends up kind of owning her role as the school’s dirty mascot or just staying this broken little toy that everyone keeps for their own fun. Either way, it’s girl-on-girl bullying that turned into full-on public use circus, and if that’s the headspace you’re into, this thing doesn’t really give you a way out. In a good way. Or a terrible way. Hard to tell.

There is this cat girl in college who honestly feels like she’s born under some weird star. You start with her just trying to be normal student, go to lectures, maybe pass exams, but very fast it turns into “how horny can internet be today” situation. Instacat is everywhere here, it feels like that cursed app on your phone that you know is bad for mental health but still open every five minutes. Every choice you make for her, you feel this mix of “I want her to find true love” and “yeah ok post that thirsty selfie in the dorm bathroom with the towel almost falling off.” The game lets you lean into both. One moment she’s shy, ears low, tail nervous, trying to talk to that one cute classmate in the cafeteria. Next moment she’s grinding in some party, her crop top sliding up, nipples kinda poking through, everyone filming, and you are staring at the option like: do I lean into the scandal, or save her reputation a bit. I told myself I’d protect her. I did not protect her at all.

What I really liked is how small choices snowball into horny chaos. You say yes to a “study session” with this flirty cheerleader cat girl and then suddenly you have her on your lap, licking your neck, purring in your ear, hands creeping inside your shorts, while textbooks are just sitting there like decoration. Then you later see the Instacat story of that night and realize some other character saw it too, and future scenes change, more jealous text messages, more late night calls, more “come to my room, we need to talk” that never stays only talking. There are proper sweet moments hidden inside all the filth, like when you comfort another girl who crashed hard from a scandal, hugging in her dorm bed, tail wrapping your waist, kiss starting soft then turning into that slow, breathy grind under the sheets, underwear pushed aside, bodies very close and sticky, with this feeling like you are not just hooking up, you are choosing her. It feels fated sometimes, like “ok, this route is the one the universe wanted” even if you arrived there by being a total horny disaster. The game makes you laugh at stupid memes, then two clicks later you’re watching your cat girl ride someone on a desk in an empty classroom, skirt bunched at her hips, claws digging into shoulders, moaning loud enough that if destiny is real, it is definitely a pervert.

Kid with fresh trauma, dead parents, and a brain full of horny daydreams gets invited to live with his own fantasy: the hot teacher with the perfect ass who always leans over the desk just a bit too far. On paper it sounds like a pity offer, right? “Stay with my family until things get better.” In reality it’s more like dropping him into a jungle of polite smiles, fake kindness and a milf who knows damn well every boy in class stares at her tits. He hesitates, because her son is that asshole from school who steals lunch money and calls everyone loser. But she looks at him with those soft eyes, that tight blouse, and suddenly sleeping under the same roof as the bully’s mom feels like a sin that’s worth burning for. Of course he says yes. Hormones are stronger than common sense.

The house is not normal. You notice it first in the little things. The way the “big brother” talks on the phone like he’s ordering a beating instead of pizza. The quiet guys in suits who show up, bow, and pretend they’re just business partners. The way the teacher, this kind of warm, patient woman at school, turns cold and sharp in the kitchen when she’s whispering about “problems that must vanish.” It’s a yakuza nest with homework on the table and a mom who cooks curry while wearing a skirt that barely hides her thick hips. While the son acts like he owns the world, the new boy starts sliding under his shadow, sneaking glances at his mom’s curves, her heavy breasts bouncing when she walks from the bathroom in a towel, the outline of her pussy barely covered, like she’s forgotten someone else lives there now. Or maybe she didn’t forget at all. Hard to say.

At school, the drama looks like a stupid romance anime at first. Teasing in the hallway, cheap jokes, girls whispering that the new boy is “so tragic, poor thing” while staring at his crotch when they think he doesn’t notice. There’s this weird humor in how people flirt with him. One classmate acts innocent, then asks very detailed questions about what he thinks of older women, then pretends it was a joke. Another girl “accidentally” falls on his lap in the library and he ends up with her ass pressed on his dick while she giggles, way too happy. But the real mindfuck happens back home, late, when the door is slightly open and the teacher is in her bedroom, touching herself while watching some shitty romance movie on her tablet, her moans soft at first, then deeper, and he just stands there, hard as rock, listening. Later she pretends nothing happened, serving breakfast like normal, but her hand lingers too long when she passes him the jam. One evening she helps him study and somehow her cleavage is almost in his face, her perfume sweet and thick in his lungs, and he finally snaps, kisses her, expecting a slap. Instead she kisses back, slow, hungry, like she’s been waiting, her tongue teasing, her lips wet. Clothes go missing. Her big tits are in his hands, heavy and warm, nipples hard, and he ends up buried inside her on the sofa, her moans low so the rest of the house doesn’t hear, her body pushing back into every deep thrust. She rides him later, straddling him in the dark, whispering “don’t cum yet” then pulling him in deeper until he fills her, creampie after creampie, while she clenches around him like she owns his soul. Around all that, the yakuza tension keeps rising, jealousy grows, and more women start circling him like he’s fresh meat in a bloody family war, but he still keeps sneaking into her room like an addict who only needs one drug: the bully’s mom, spread on her bed, legs open, ready for another round.

You start as this quiet guardian angel, not some shining armor guy, more like a nosy mod in a cursed Discord server, watching a girl in a city that feels cut off from the rest of the world. At first it’s almost calm: narrow streets, fog stuck between the buildings, people pretending they’re normal while catgirls and foxgirls just wander around like it’s nothing. You don’t walk in the city yourself, you nudge it. Tiny choices, small pushes, changing who she meets and what kind of shit she gets dragged into. One run she’s shy, hiding under hoodies and closing curtains, another run she’s half naked in a bar window, acting like she forgot what shame is. The game never stands up and says “here is the corruption route now,” it just lets scenes creep in. A dirty job offer here, a “favor” there, some pervy landlord watching her undress through a crack in the wall while you decide whether to stop it or see what happens next. It feels wrong and interesting at the same time, which I guess is the point.

The city itself slowly turns into this living kink playground if you let it. That quiet back alley becomes the place where she ends up on her knees between two strangers, trying to keep eye contact with you, like she still hopes some angel is actually watching. One decision earlier you told her to take that “easy money,” now she is in a cheap motel room with a group of guys, mascara smeared, trying to act like she’s fine with being used as a cum dump. If you push her harder, the outfits get bolder, tops vanish, skirts get shorter, and suddenly every corner has someone wanting a taste. Interracial scenes in cramped stairwells, public blowjob next to a parked car while a foxgirl girl records it on her phone, lesbian stuff in a steamy bathhouse where she lets another girl pin her to the wall and ride her face until she almost passes out. Sometimes she’s on top, humiliating some poor bastard, spitting in his mouth, choking him a little. Next day she’s the one getting slapped, called a whore, forced to say thank you while a crowd watches and laughs. The game swings between male dom, femdom, and just pure chaos, and the whole time you’re stuck in this weird zen state, clicking options like “encourage” or “ignore” while people choke each other out in graphic, messy detail.

What really hits is when the violence ramps up and the sex doesn’t stop. There is this scene where some thugs drag her behind a warehouse, and it’s not soft at all. She gets pinned to cold concrete, legs forced open, you see the panic, then that fucked up moment where panic turns into something else. Blood, spit, rough thrusts, her voice cracking between begging and moaning, and you’re still there in your little guardian menu, deciding whether to call in a miracle or just let it scar her more. Next playthrough maybe you steer her towards a brothel instead, and now prostitution is almost “cleaner” by comparison: a line of clients, one after another, her learning how to deepthroat while a madam talks about prices. She leans into exhibitionism too, standing under a flickering streetlight in nothing but a thin top, nipples visible, pretending she’s cold while secretly getting turned on by all the staring eyes. Sometimes you do nothing and just watch her through cameras, like a voyeur god, as she lazily rides a guy on a sofa and stares at the invisible you, almost like she knows she’s never alone. The sandbox thing means you just kind of wander between events, trigger something wild, then waste time talking to some random catgirl who wants her tail pulled. It’s messy, uneven, too slow in parts, and yet that fits. Like sex where you both lose rhythm, laugh a bit, then go harder and rougher than before. The girl changes, the city changes, and somewhere in there, you realize you stopped trying to “protect” her and started being curious how far down she can slide.