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.

It’s weird how this game feels both filthy and kinda wholesome at the same time. Like, you’re just a farmer, right? Doing your chores, minding your crops, and suddenly there’s this pig-girl princess showing up in your barn acting like she owns the place. She’s spoiled as hell but somehow adorable, rolling her eyes while asking you to “show her how humans do it.” The writing doesn’t even pretend to be subtle - one second you’re talking about feeding pigs, next thing you’re milking something that definitely isn’t a cow. The transitions are janky in a funny way, like the devs knew exactly what they were doing and didn’t care if it made sense. Honestly, I respect that kind of chaos.

The humor hits that perfect spot between dumb and clever. There’s a scene where the royal advisor tries to lecture you about “proper conduct with livestock” while you’re literally hiding behind hay bales with the princess moaning your name. It’s stupidly hot and stupidly funny. And the futa twist? Didn’t see that coming (pun totally intended). The first time it happens, you just stare for a second like - wait, did that just grow? But it works because the tone never shifts into serious mode; it stays playful, teasing, constantly flirting with absurdity. There’s even a lactation gag that somehow turns into a group scene, and by then you’ve stopped questioning logic entirely. You just go with it.

I kinda wish the farmer had more dialogue options though; sometimes he just grunts or blushes when you want him to say something dirtier. But maybe that’s part of the charm - you project your own filth onto him. The art style’s got that soft, round look that makes everything feel warm even when it’s absolute debauchery. And yeah, I laughed out loud when the princess called herself “royal pork” mid-handjob. Who writes that? Whoever they are, they get it. It’s horny, messy, self-aware, and doesn’t apologize for any of it.

Clara’s “Love Hotel” feels like the place your horny brain built when you were fifteen and your wallet was already imagining sugar daddies. It’s not some classy high-society escort fantasy. It’s cheap perfume, sticky elevator buttons, and girls who still check their phone between clients. You follow a teen girl getting sucked into Clara’s world, going from “I’m just looking for some extra cash” to happily spreading her legs for whatever rich pervert books the suite. The whole thing plays like a kinetic visual novel where you’re mostly there to watch her brain rewire itself around money, cock, and control, with Clara pulling strings and smiling like a sexy devil in a tight dress. The story doesn’t rush. First it’s teasing and striptease in those themed rooms, girls grinding slowly while the client watches like a creep through tinted glass, then the jobs start getting nastier: anal for an extra wad of bills, creampies that drip out while Clara counts the cash, toys shoved in to keep the girl “ready” for the next guy. You barely make a choice, you just sit there like a voyeur, and somehow that fits the whole hotel vibe perfectly.

One moment that stuck in my head had the main girl lying on silk sheets while an older woman, a full-on milf type with that rich cougar aura, just toys with her for a client hidden behind the curtain. She whispers to the teen how she’s nothing but a fucktoy now, fingers deep, thumb circling her clit, and the hotel’s camera quietly recording every twitch for “private archives.” The girl pretends to be shy at first, but the game doesn’t keep that illusion long. By the time Clara pairs her with a calm, serious dilf businessman, she’s already the one pushing his cock inside, asking if he wants to finish in her ass or her pussy because “Clara gives bonuses for messy endings.” There’s a fun little moment where two lesbians working the same floor sneak into an empty room between clients, toys buzzing, tongue on tongue, and you realize they’re half doing it for pleasure and half to warm up before the next paying guest. The corruption doesn’t feel cartoonish, more like a slow slide where you watch the girl go from flinching at her first blowjob to riding a stranger like it’s just a normal shift. Some scenes lean more romantic, weirdly enough, especially when a regular client starts bringing gifts and treating her like his personal escort, and the game kind of pretends there’s “love” in a place that operates like a brothel. It’s messy, horny, sometimes sweet, sometimes nasty, and it never apologizes for treating every girl in that hotel as both employee and property, legs open on demand while Clara counts the profits with that lazy, satisfied smile.

Holly’s Summer is that kind of horny mess where you open it “just to check the art” and then suddenly you’re way too invested in two girls making every bad decision possible on a private island. You’ve got Holly, the cute “good girl” who clearly thinks she’s in control of her own story, and Brooke, who has big “I say I’m your best friend but I also kinda want to see you ruin yourself” energy. The setup looks like classic rich-boyfriend summer vacation, private house, quiet beach, you know the fantasy. And then the thieves show up, and the whole vibe just slides straight into dirty, twisted crime porn without even pretending to be subtle. One minute it’s bikini and sunscreen, next minute it’s ropes, hands where they shouldn’t be, and a house full of men who see them as toys, not people.

What I liked is how fast it stops playing nice. There’s no fake heroic rescue tone. The guys are criminals, straight-up, and the game leans into that: groping that ignores consent, “searching” their bodies like they’re looking for stolen goods inside their panties, that kind of thing. It feels like a porn comic turned into a visual story, and yeah, if you know Fernando’s stuff, this is right in that lane: lots of humiliation, the girls forced to pose, kneel, open, suck, obey, with their faces doing that mix of shame and arousal the whole time. There’s one scene where Holly ends up on her knees in front of a guy she absolutely hates, with Brooke watching from the couch, hand tied behind her back, some big dude’s fingers digging into her thigh while he tells her to “act encouraging.” I paused the game there, opened Twitter, typed a whole rant, deleted it, went back and… clicked the filthiest option anyway. The choices mostly push you between “bad” and “worse,” like, do you want Holly to resist and get punished harder, or cooperate and get praised like a good little toy. There’s a bit of femdom flavor too, but twisted: some of the female-led stuff is them being forced into a “dom” role that’s still under male control. Holly made to dominate Brooke, slap her, ride her face while guys watch and jerk off, and you can feel she’s not really on top, she’s just another tool.

The sissy content sneaks up on you. It’s not like, boom, here’s a crossdressing dude from the start. It grows out of the humiliation vibe. One of the guys clearly enjoys breaking people, and you get this path where a softer male character gets dragged into it, forced into panties, made to serve with the girls. They talk to him like he’s just another slut, shove him next to Holly and Brooke, compare their asses, treat him as “the sissy” from then on. It’s mean, it’s hot, and sometimes weirdly funny in a dark way, like when Brooke mocks him but her voice cracks because she’s still choking on cum. Interracial stuff is sprinkled in pretty casually: the game doesn’t do speeches, it just puts Holly between a white thug and a huge black guy and makes her work both, or has the girls humiliated by a mixed group that clearly enjoys turning rich island princesses into shared meat. There’s a lot of focus on female orgasm, not in some romantic way but in that cruel “we’re gonna make you come so you can’t pretend you didn’t like it” style. They edge the girls, deny them, then suddenly push them over the line at the worst possible moment, like Holly screaming in pleasure while she’s being slapped and called a whore in front of everyone. If you’re into soft, cuddly romance, this is the wrong page of the internet. If you want a dirty, criminal-feeling island nightmare where pretty girls get broken, used in groups, forced to dominate and be dominated, and a “sissy” joins the meat parade, this one just crawls into your brain and refuses to leave.