Kinoff City looks all fancy on the tourist posters, rainbow flags and smiling faces, but when you drop into Stronger Bonds it hits more like some horny soap opera that got hijacked by horny rhinos with way too much baggage. You play as Samson, this huge, broad-shouldered rhinoceros cop who just landed the job of police chief in the so-called gay capital. Big uniform, bigger ego, and a past that’s a total mess. He’s not just here to write tickets. He’s stomping around the city, poking his nose into clubs, gyms, back alleys, and “private” apartments, trying to bring order to a place that doesn’t really want to behave. The whole city basically looks at him and thinks “strict daddy who needs to loosen up”. Which, yeah, the game makes sure he does. Slowly. With a lot of dick.

What makes it fun is how the story keeps mixing heavy drama with horny bullshit. One minute Samson is remembering his dead wife or how he screamed at his four sons until they ran away, next minute you’re in a locker room with a cocky lion officer testing his “respect for authority” with his tongue buried in Samson’s lap. Sex scenes feel like arguments that turn into blowjobs. Fights that end with someone bent over a desk. When Samson pulls rank, he really pulls it. The male domination vibe hits hard, especially when he’s in full uniform, hand on the suspect’s neck, using his weight to pin them and then they’re suddenly gasping with his cock deep in their throat. A lot of oral, a lot of “you’re gonna take all of it” energy. And the game doesn’t pretend these guys are shy. Asses are big, heavy, shaking against his hips, tails lifted, begging for anal while still pretending they’re too proud for it. You get those slow scenes where he pushes in, inch by inch, and the other guy’s talking tough but his back keeps arching and you know he’s gone.

The tension with his sons sits in the background and keeps poking at you. They’re in the city, hiding, watching what kind of man he is now. Sometimes you think you’re just lining up another hookup, then the dialog drops something small, like “you sound like my old man”, and it hits you that these boys grew up under his old, harsh version. Harry, the younger brother, is like this sweet disaster trying to keep Samson from falling apart again, but he’s also a horny rhino in a very gay city. He jokes, flirts, shoves Samson toward guys who clearly want to get pounded by a chief who doesn’t know the meaning of “gentle”. The mobile format actually works: playing on the train with headphones, pretending you’re reading news on Chrome while Samson is railroading some smug fox over the squad car hood is a special kind of shame. I even almost tapped the wrong icon and opened WhatsApp while a scene had Samson tongue-deep under a wolf’s tail, which would have been hard to explain. The game is messy, emotional, sometimes melodramatic, sometimes just “shut up and suck me”, but that combo of family guilt, city secrets, and a hulking rhino cop using his authority to breed half the gay capital into submission sticks in your head way longer than it should.

Royal Madness is probably the closest thing to a horny fairytale written by a very drunk court painter who really likes cats with huge tits and smug faces. You’re tossed in as Lewis, bastard ocelot prince, and the world instantly treats your royal blood like a kink rather than a title. It’s not subtle about it. Every rival, every “enemy,” every supposed threat ends up circling one question: are you fucking them into your harem, or are they turning you into their cute little pet instead. The game doesn’t pretend to be noble. It treats power as a sex toy and nobility as an excuse to collar people and re-style their bodies until they match your tastes a bit too perfectly.

What I liked is that the characters aren’t just recolors of the same cat-girl with different boobs. The art actually feels like someone sat there and thought “ok, what if a smug lioness warlord had hips like a fertility statue and armor that only makes sense if her nipples are a political statement.” Sometimes it looks messy, lines a bit shaky, anatomy going off on its own adventure, but that fits the energy. It’s not corporate clean, more like horny sketchbook that got out of control. There is this rhino general, for example, huge chest, scars across the muzzle, and when you win their challenge the magic doesn’t just slap “now they are pretty” filter. No, you literally watch the body warp piece by piece, broad muscles smoothing or sharpening, maybe the tits swelling stupidly big while they gasp halfway between outrage and getting turned on by losing. That slow change hits way harder than a simple “transformation finished” screen.

The actual structure is that loose sandbox style where you hop from one hot mess to another, switching perspective between male and female protagonist when the story feels like it, not when you are ready. One scene you’re Lewis using magic to slowly erode the pride of a tiger knight, teasing him until his cock and even his voice betray how much he wants to kneel. Next time the game flips and you’re playing as one of your own ex-rivals, now loyal, wandering your palace and accidentally starting something filthy with a new intruder who thought they’d be the one on top. That shift is the fun part. You see the same harem from different eyes, sometimes as a conqueror, sometimes as the newest toy, sometimes as the one being “improved” by your own magic. And the kinks slide around too. One route gives you a stacked lion queen that you carefully nudge from terrifying monarch into doting, overprotective mommy dom, then another throws you against a seemingly submissive bunny clerk that ends with you collared, hips reshaped, moaning her name while she tests how flexible ocelot royalty can be when properly “reformed.” Half the time I was cursing at the tiny UI buttons and weird pacing, the other half I was staring at the screen of my phone on the tram, trying not to bite my lip like a complete idiot.

If you really want to squeeze every filthy drop out of it, don’t rush straight to the obvious sex scenes. Poke around the challenges, lose on purpose sometimes, see how the transformations twist when you’re the loser instead of the victor. Talk to characters again after you’ve changed them, especially the big tits crowd and the ones who pretended they didn’t care about you. Watch how their new bodies and new roles corrupt their own original goals. Treat each battle less like a level and more like a negotiation with the world’s nastiest fashion designer. That’s where the game actually gets hot.

It’s weird, the way *A Fortnight at Frenni Fazclaire’s 2* plays with tone - like, one moment it’s soft lighting and syrupy teasing from an animatronic wolf with silicone lips that catch the club’s pink glow just right, and the next second you’re hearing metal sc*** in the next room like something mechanical trying to breathe. I couldn’t decide if I was turned on or spooked half the time, which maybe is the point. The writing leans into that uncanny space where synthetic skin meets real loneliness, though sometimes it feels too self-aware about being a parody. It’s as if it winks so much it forgets to blink. Still, when Mia Mangle leans across the security desk and says things she shouldn’t know - stuff only the player would think - it hits that strange nerve of digital intimacy that good adult games sometimes stumble into by accident.

The furries here aren’t played for cheap fetish fuel (okay, not *just* that). There’s tension in every movement, more like stage performers improvising after hours than machines following code. I kept thinking about Nabokov because yeah, it’s sexy, but it’s also about control and play and being observed while pretending not to care. And then there’s the mobile version, where tapping through dialogue feels like petting something alive that pretends to glitch. Sometimes choices freeze for no reason - probably a bug - but it almost fits the mood: desire interrupted by static. The horror bits creep slow; shadows twitch behind velvet curtains even during explicit scenes, and the sound design hums under your skin like anxiety that smells faintly of perfume.

Honestly, the worst part is the damn loading screen image - I hate that smug smile they gave Aurora. Every time she flickers in before the menu loads, I kinda want her to malfunction just to break the eye contact. But when she starts singing that low note (yeah, she sings), everything stutters into this mix of comedy and obscene tenderness. Maybe I imagined that part. Or maybe the game wanted me to. Hard to tell where the line’s supposed to be anymore.

Town of Redemption feels like somebody mashed a horny fantasy VN into a half-finished mobile sandbox and then just said “yeah ok, this is fine” and went back to drawing monster tits. You’re this dude who survived a village getting wrecked, finally lands in a big “safe” city that’s only safe if you ignore the amount of wet, thick, non-human girls wandering around it. You end up working as an alchemist for the guild, which sounds boring until every second job turns into “oops I spilled aphrodisiac on the wolf-girl with the huge ass, better check if she’s ok”. It’s that kind of game where you think you’re just clicking through errands, then suddenly you’re shoulder deep in a cow girl’s cleavage, trying to “measure milk output” with your hands instead of tools. She’s moaning, you’re pretending this is science. Absolutely my thing.

What I like is how the scenes creep up on you. One quest you’re mixing basic potions for some shy catgirl scout, next time she visits she’s pressing her big fluffy tits against the table asking if you can make something to “relax her nerves before missions”. Translation: give her a reason to pant and grind on your leg in the lab. And it actually feels like you built up to it, not just click sex button to win. There’s this lizard girl adventurer who keeps acting all proud, calling you “support staff”, then you slip a warmth potion in her gear and watch her swagger melt into heavy breathing and tail twitching while she begs you to check where exactly it’s getting “too hot”. Hand under her armor, fingering around her abs, then lower, then she’s using your hand like a toy. Feels good in that “ok, this is way too specific but I’m not complaining” way. The writing is sometimes messy, like someone glued horny ideas together without cleaning the edges, and the UI on mobile is clunky as hell with tiny icons that make your thumb miss the thing you want, but whatever, I stayed for the filthy bits. There’s an actual sense of being this low level dude building a little life, slowly turning half the guild into your personal test subjects. Except the inventory screen is ugly as sin and sorting items is a pain. I kept mis-tapping and using the wrong potion. Kind of funny when a buff elixir turns into a breast swelling one right before a fight though. Not for the poor bunny girl tank trying to move under her own bouncing chest.

The town itself ends up feeling like your playground. You walk out of the lab and already know which corner has the needy minotaur girl who leaks through her clothes if you even mention “pressure release”, which alley has the smug fox girl who pretends she hates humans but still arches her back when you “search for hidden enchantments” under her tail, which shopkeeper secretly has fur under the robes and loves it when you “accidentally” grope her while reaching for ingredients. There’s a nice rhythm where you run guild jobs, collect weird monster parts, then experiment not only in bottles but on bodies. At some point I had a batch of potions that made nipples super sensitive, and watching a proud warrior melt into a shaking mess from just a thumb rubbing her big areolae was stupidly hot. The game teases a lot too, sometimes giving you a scene that stops right at the edge, making you work more jobs or raise some stat before she finally lets you push her against the table and go full-on, tits slapping, claws in your back, panting in your ear. Some characters feel unfinished, like they were supposed to have more scenes but real life stole the dev, and there are dead spots where nothing new triggers even if you grind. Still, when it hits, it hits filthy enough: thick furry hips grinding on your lap, warm milk running down her belly while she moans your name, your hands sunk into jiggling titflesh like soft dough. It’s rough around the edges and kind of janky, but it has that unpolished charm where you can smell the artist’s brain: “what if every girl in this nice fantasy town was just a little too eager to get grabbed, teased, milked and ruined by some refugee alchemist who barely knows what he’s doing”. Honestly, I’m ok with that.