Morgana lands in Sydney all bright-eyed and proper, and the game almost laughs at her for it. She’s this very English, very polite girl with soft curves that are not soft at all once the camera stops pretending to be shy. The shared house she moves into looks classy at first, clean pool, big rooms, that kind of “Instagram rich” vibe. Then you start noticing the way every guy looks at her. Not like “oh, she’s cute”, more like “I haven’t fucked in forever and I’m counting the seconds until she cracks”. The whole house has this thick male energy, like a locker room that learned how to use cologne. She walks around in her casual clothes, ass bouncing a bit too much, tits a bit too real, and you can tell the game really wants you to stare. It’s almost rude how long the camera stays behind her when she goes up the stairs.

The first time she’s alone in the living room and one of the guys just sits too close on the couch, it hits what the game is actually about. He’s “friendly”, arm over the backrest, his hand not quite touching her shoulder, you know the fake respectful thing. She leans forward to grab the TV remote, shirt slipping down just enough to show that heavy cleavage, and suddenly he’s staring like he’s never seen tits before. You’re just waiting for the moment his fingers “accidentally” brush the side of her breast. And yeah, he does. The game freezes for half a second on her face, that mix of embarrassment and something curious she doesn’t understand yet. She pulls away, of course, she’s engaged, she’s “good”. The game laughs again. Later, when she’s in the kitchen in those tiny shorts, you can see the shape of her ass cheeks move under the fabric while another guy just watches her from the corridor. He doesn’t talk. He just looks. It feels dirty without even needing explicit sex yet, because the whole house is already undressing her with their eyes every time she walks by.

What I liked is how it doesn’t jump straight into full-on porn. It toys with her. With you, actually. First it’s the lingering looks, the “accidental” bump in the hallway, a hand on her lower back that stays there a bit too long when he leads her through a door. You get scenes where she’s changing in her room, thinking she’s alone, and the camera shifts from her reflection in the mirror to a tiny gap in the door, like someone might be watching. Or maybe it’s just you being a creep. She slides her panties up over that thick ass, adjusts them, and pauses with her hand on her own butt, almost like she wonders if she’s become sexier lately or if she’s just paranoid. There’s a moment when she ends up giving a very awkward handjob, still trying to convince herself it’s “just helping a friend” and it doesn’t count as cheating. She’s blushing, fumbling, clearly inexperienced, fingers clumsy around his cock, and the guy is guiding her hand, pushing her to stroke harder, faster, dirtier. The way her innocence slowly rots inside that house is the whole point. You start with this sweet virgin fiancée who thinks she’s in a love story, but the game is more interested in the moment she stops pulling her shirt back up when someone stares, the moment she holds eye contact while a guy openly checks out her tits instead of looking away. The corruption is not fireworks, it’s a long, slow stare. And that’s why it feels hot and wrong at the same time.

You wake up in Eroselle with a hard-on, a shitty reputation, and zero clue how this world even works. Perfect combo. Everybody acts like your arrival is some bug in the code of reality: the King looks at you like trash, the Princess talks like she’s already bored of you, but the magic in this place wants to crawl under your skin. And yeah, that includes the girls. This is one of those worlds where the economy basically runs on tits and spells. You wander through this “proper” fantasy city and every alley feels like it’s watching you. Tavern girls with ridiculous hips bending too far over the tables, big-ass noble ladies pretending they don’t like being stared at, mages with robes that hide nothing when they lean down to “help” you study. The game pretends it’s about politics and war, then gives you a chance to grope a busty elf in a library corner because you picked the flirty dialogue instead of the “responsible” one. And the best part, the bodies don’t feel copy-pasted. One girl has this heavy, natural chest that jiggles when she laughs at you, another has that tight, perky pair that looks amazing when she’s on her knees, hand around your cock, teasing and stalling like she’s grinding XP out of your frustration. Animations are not perfect, sometimes the mouth-sync looks a bit cursed, but somehow that makes it hotter. Like weird porn you accidentally replay ten times.

The whole “goddess of lust” thing isn’t just flavor text. Your dick is basically your skill tree. You flirt, you grope, you eat pussy, you suck on those soft big tits, you let them stroke you slow with oil and whispered dirty talk, and you actually get stronger. Unlock a new power, go back to town, suddenly that shy witch who used to blush and run away when you complimented her ass now drops to the floor and starts licking the sweat from your abs after a fight. I had one scene where I’d just finished a quest in the forest and my health was low, and instead of using a potion, this cute healer girl drags me behind a tree and says she can “channel” extra energy through her mouth. Cut to her on all fours, face buried in my lap, slobbering and moaning every time I twitch in her throat, with those huge tits hanging and swaying under her. That was the moment I forgot there was even a main story. Then later I tried to min-max the romance routes like some nerd in a Google Sheet and the game went “nah” and locked me out of an option because I’d been too much of a slut with random NPCs. Slightly pissed me off. But then a new scene popped with a jealous princess riding me angry, biting my neck, calling me a pervert while grinding her fat ass down and telling me I belong to her. So whatever, I forgave it instantly. It’s messy, horny, sometimes goofy as hell, with that cheap fantasy humor where a magic spell backfires and suddenly you’re stuck in a bathhouse with three wet, naked girls and no towel, only your hands and your rising problem. Feels like the game is laughing with you, not at you. Or maybe at you. Hard to tell when your screen is full of bouncing tits and dirty whispered lines that actually sound like a real girl losing control, not some clean, polished script trying too hard to be sexy.

Tuesday night, brain fried, eyes half closed, you crash into bed and instead of doomscrolling TikTok again, you kinda just wish the whole week would fuck off. Then this world shows up. Not a heroic chosen-one thing, more like the universe says “hey dude, wanna be a walking cum tank for a planet that runs on your load?” and doesn’t wait for a polite answer. No guys there. Not even one. Just monster girls with curves that look like someone overfed an AI prompt with “thick milf fox with big tits” and hit generate until the GPU cried. You wake up in this weird fantasy sci-fi mashup where half the locals have tails, horns, fluffy ears or tentacles, and all of them look at you like Pornhub Premium just became sentient. The town you spawn in is kinda cozy actually, if you ignore the giant billboard-sized ass on the slime milf at the fountain. Your daily life is basically “pick a direction, get seduced.” One moment a shy librarian with glasses and a tail “accidentally” brushes your crotch while you’re trying to read some dusty old lore about cum crystals that power the continent, next moment a spider-girl milf wraps you up tight and starts teasing your feet like it’s some holy ritual, toes in her mouth, soft moans right in your ear. You’re trapped and you’re not complaining at all. Except you will, like me, complain that sometimes the teasing goes on so long you’re begging the screen. And nobody hears you. That drove me crazy. Still kinda hot though.

The game is text focused, so you sit there and your brain fills the gaps. Little AI pictures in the background give you a rough idea, but the real thing happens in your head. You read “her tentacle slides around your thighs, forcing your legs open” and suddenly you feel it like she’s next to you, whispering, breathing, making you hard just by existing. There is this one scene where a cocky wolf-girl milf with big tits drags you into an alley and tells you she needs “fuel” before her patrol. She starts with a lazy handjob, thumb circling your tip so slowly it’s almost rude, grinning while she keeps eye contact, then drops down and gives you a sloppy blowjob that feels like she’s trying to drink your soul through your dick. She makes you cum, swallows, checks if there’s more, then gets annoyed you’re “empty” already and rides you anyway, grinding that fat ass on you till you’re overstimulated and leaking again. It’s affectionate and cruel, which is perfect. Then there’s a goofy scene with a catgirl who thinks exhibitionism is a love language, tugging you out into the open square, jerking you off while innocent-looking plant monsters pretend not to stare. She forces your cock between her tits and rides it like she’s streaming on OnlyFans, making that stupid ahegao face when you finally creampie her mouth and she shows it off to literally everyone. I liked that one way too much, and not enough at all. Some routes go heavier: a tentacle “priestess” stuffing toys and tendrils into you and around you at the same time, grinding against your body while she milks you for “energy,” internal view described so detailed you can almost hear the wet sounds in your head like a scuffed ASMR track. There’s anal, there’s messy creampies, there’s milfs with massive asses pinning you and using you as their personal vibrator until you have no idea if you’re being worshipped or drained. You’re the only guy, but half the time you feel like the toy. Which is kinda the point. The game keeps playing with that sweet spot between being wanted and being used, and if your brain likes slow, dirty whisper-in-your-ear type stuff more than flashy cutscenes, it hits way harder than it has any right to.

You wake up wrong. That is the first thing that hit me. Not heroic, not cool cyberpunk badass, just this sick, half-loaded feeling like your soul got dragged through a glitchy Pornhub ad. You’re in your backup sleeve, lying in some cheap future med-bay, the kind that smells like burnt plastic and sex lube, and your own body doesn’t quite fit. Your fingers are a bit too long, your chest feels heavy in a way it shouldn’t, heart rate monitor chirping like a horny bird, and your vision keeps tearing like a bad stream on xVideos. Crew’s a mess, ship’s a mess, and your upload is corrupted enough that if you calm down, you die. Which is a fucked up way of saying: you literally need to be kept turned on just to keep your brain from shutting off.

The “keep his heart rate up” thing sounds like a cheesy porn excuse, and yeah, it is, but here it actually wraps around into the story surprisingly tight. You’re surrounded by these thick-thighed, short-haired, neon-dyed space girls that look like someone smashed together a strip club and a hacker bar, then sprinkled futa on top for good measure. They are not gentle nurses. You’re not in some healing crystal spa. You are meat they are determined to keep pumping, with hands that wander the second the monitor dips below a number they like. One moment the medic is calmly explaining your neural corruption, next moment her gloved hand slides under your hospital sheet and she squeezes like she’s testing a weapon part. The captain leans over you, short hair brushing your face, tits spilling out of a half-open suit, and she’s pissed you almost died but she’s also grinding on your thigh with this lazy, practiced dominance that says she has done this before with other poor fucks on other poor ships.

I liked how the game doesn’t even pretend to be subtle about the body stuff. Your sleeve is customizable, but not in that boring “pick eye color, done” way. It’s big asses that bounce when you get grabbed, heavy tits that strain cheap fabric, cocks and clits and both, because why not if you’re paying for a synthetic body anyway. Cyberpunk setting, sure, there are glowing cityscapes outside the porthole and some talk about data smuggling and black clinic surgeons, but honestly the real sci-fi here is “how far can we push this body before the heart flatlines.” There is this one scene that stuck with me: you’re strapped into this sloopy auto-doc chair, and a futa crew engineer, all colorful undercut and grease on her cheeks, is pretending to “check your reflexes” while she slowly strokes you with one hand and plays with the med panel with the other, watching the HR line spike when she squeezes your balls just a bit too hard. And the worst part? She keeps half-talking about thruster repairs, like she’s multitasking you like any other ship component.

Not everything lands. Some of the dialogue comes out a bit stiff in the wrong way, like someone tried to write badass one-liners while also jerking off and lost the balance. There is a moment where a character calls a neural buffer a “quantum RAM thingy” and I still don’t know if that’s on purpose or just lazy, but I kind of love it because it feels like late-night shitposting turned into a game script. The pacing jumps all over: one second you’re gasping, being ridden hard by a thick-hipped futanari officer who pins your wrists to keep your pulse up, the next second someone brings up fuel dates and cargo lists like we didn’t just watch you cum all over the med bed. Also, tiny complaint that bugged me way more than it should: the damn heart rate sound is slightly too high-pitched, like my Fitbit having an orgasm, and it made me reach for my phone twice, thinking I got a notification. Still, when the girls crowd around you, colored hair brushing your skin, their hands greedy, their voices low and bossy, using your overheating body as both patient and toy, that shrill little beep just disappears into the background like any other cheap future noise. Sex as life support. Literally. It’s messed up, and it works.