Guy wakes up with a shit childhood behind him and suddenly everyone expects him to be normal, go to school, run a cafe and not stare at every pair of tits that walks past the counter. That’s the basic mood. You’re this dude trying to turn a tiny, half-broken cafe into something real, while your last year of school keeps tripping you up. And every girl that drifts into your orbit somehow ends up tangled in this weird mix of “aww that’s cute” and “why am I hard again, she just asked for coffee.” It starts soft: shy schoolgirl staying late to “help you close,” the older teacher pretending she’s only here to grade your project, the milf landlord who leans just a bit too far over the table when she’s talking about rent. It feels like a normal dating sim for a bit. Flirty texts, small talks, wiping tables, brushing against hips “by accident,” sucking glances at cleavage when they think you’re busy with the espresso machine. Then the game decides that if you’re going to be the man of this place, you’re going to really be the man.

Once the switch flips, it leans into wholesome but very clear male domination. Not angry, not cruel, more like “you’re mine now, isn’t that what you wanted?” and all the girls kinda melt into it. One moment you’re correcting a girl’s homework, next she’s on her knees between your legs in the back room, mouth full of cock, trying not to choke while students walk by outside the door. You’re teaching them “discipline” in your own way: spanking a bratty classmate bent over a cafe chair after closing, slow and deliberate hits on her ass until she stops talking back and just whimpers into the cushion. There’s this cute thing where a virgin girl keeps pretending she’s fine with just teasing, sitting on your lap, grinding on you through your pants while she serves customers, but her panties get soaked and eventually you just drag her into the storage room and fuck her properly, condom forgotten, her first time ending with you buried deep and creampie dripping down her thighs while she clings to your shirt and calls you sir. It tries really hard to be romantic but then you’re groping her boobs in the walk-in fridge with the milk cartons.

What works a lot better than I expected is how the cafe becomes this base of operations for your whole harem. At first it’s one-on-one scenes, but once they all start knowing about each other it shifts into this messy, horny family energy. Girls teasing each other behind the counter, one of them flashing her big tits from under the apron because she lost a bet, another one kneeling to give you a quick handjob under the table while you pretend to check the accounts on your phone. Group scenes escalate fast: you’ve got two girls on their knees sharing your cock, taking turns swallowing, spit strings everywhere, while a third straddles your face on a cafe sofa. Somebody always has a big ass bouncing on you, somebody else is spreading herself on the counter like she’s today’s special, and half the fun is that they’re all kind of exhibitionists at heart. Curtains not fully closed, door not really locked, a student walking past the windows while you’re pumping into a girl from behind, her tits pressed to the glass, fogging it up. The “slave” angle is there, but it feels more like they’re eager pets than broken toys. They wear collars under their school uniforms, hide marks from your spanking under long skirts, call you master with this embarrassing blush that makes it even hotter. There are a few weird tiny annoyances, like how one girl’s expression in a serious BDSM scene looks more like she smelled something bad than like she’s turned on, and once a looping animation just kept going a bit too long and killed the mood, but then another scene hits where you’ve got your whole harem in the closed cafe at night, every chair pushed aside, girls on tables and floor, moaning, cum on lips and bellies, and yeah, you kinda forget you were supposed to care about anything else.

It’s strange how this DBZ parody feels both trashy and affectionate, kind of like when you find an old guilty‑pleasure track in your Spotify history and realize you still know every beat. The game throws Goten right into a web of temptation that probably shouldn't exist, but here it does, shimmering with that thin layer of nostalgia everyone secretly loves to roll around in. The art flirts between rough sketches and slick shading - like it can’t decide whether to be edgy or sentimental - and somehow that fits. Android 18 looks too good for words, moves even better, and then 21 shows up and basically warps every mood you had in the last minute. It’s fan service but with a heartbeat, or maybe with several, depending on whose scene you trigger.

I found myself weirdly caught by how the dialogue sounds half improvised, sometimes awkwardly human; sometimes like a dirty daydream that just spilled onto the screen. Bulma’s little gestures - like how her eyes flick away for a second before she says something you’re not ready for - hit more real than they should. The interactive bits don’t even bother hiding what they’re about, and it’s that transparency that makes them honestly hot. One time, the scene drifted into something so slow, so drawn out, I forgot to click until the moaning blended into background music from another tab. It fits though - this clumsy pacing, this idea that seduction in a parody title could have its own lazy rhythm. I could complain about the transitions lagging, but then again, that stutter kind of matched Goten’s fumbling, and now I can’t tell if it’s a glitch or a choice.

For anyone trying to rush it, you’ll ruin the best part: letting the conversations drag, catching the facial changes, not skipping with spacebar. Take it like a good track - feel every drop, every wrong beat, until you stop pretending it’s about nostalgia and admit it’s pure hunger worked into code. Don’t skip, just... let it breathe.

You start as the new star on campus, all eyes glued to you before you even make a shot. The gym smells like sweat and ambition, but that’s not what gets your pulse up. It’s the way she looks at you - your stepmother, or maybe just “mom” in name only - her curves wrapped tight in silk that doesn’t belong anywhere near family dinners. The game doesn’t waste time pretending it’s about basketball. It’s about temptation, power, and how quickly both can slip through your fingers when every woman around you wants to see how far you’ll go. One minute you’re practicing free throws, the next you’re pressed against the locker room wall, her breath hot on your neck while she whispers things that shouldn’t sound so good coming from her mouth.

The world here feels too real sometimes. Every touch has weight, every moan sounds like someone losing control for real. Even the smaller moments - like catching your roommate’s girlfriend watching you change, or the dean’s wife brushing her thigh against yours during a meeting - carry this slow, electric tension that builds until it breaks. And when it breaks, it’s messy. Hands gripping, tongues exploring, skin slick with sweat. You’ll find yourself caught between guilt and hunger more than once, especially when the story starts twisting into places you didn’t expect: voyeurism that turns mutual, cheating that doesn’t feel wrong anymore, and those scenes where everyone ends up tangled together, gasping, laughing, covered in each other.

It’s not shy about what it is. The animation lingers too long on trembling lips, on the soft give of flesh, on the little noises people make when they forget they’re being watched. Sometimes it’s tender, sometimes filthy, sometimes both in the same second. You’ll think you’re in control, choosing who to seduce, but the game keeps pulling you deeper, making you question whether you’re chasing love, lust, or just the thrill of being wanted by everyone at once.

You wake up in this crappy motel room that smells like old smoke and cheap cleaner, with faded Jesus on the wall judging the hell out of you, and somehow you’re the “man of the house” now. Except the house is two rooms stacked with religious girls pretending they’re still living in some holy commune instead of next to a vending machine that eats coins. You’ve got Mother Superior with her tight lips and way too calm voice, the younger sisters trying to act all innocent in those modest clothes that really do not hide the tits they’re packing, and an empty bed that never really stays empty because there’s just not enough space and everyone’s broke. You’re supposed to help them “start from the bottom” again, but let’s be honest, after five minutes you’re thinking about a completely different kind of bottom. You talk to them, run their little errands, peek when the bathroom door doesn’t close right, and that’s when you realize this game really wants you to be a creep. Which is good. Religious guilt and horny tension is pretty much the main ingredient here.

The fun starts small. You get those moments where you pretend to be a gentleman but then “accidentally” walk in on a sister changing, and she bends over to grab her panties and you just see this huge ass stretching that thin fabric. There’s a scene early on where you share a bed with one of them “just for tonight, it’s safer that way” and you lie there, pretending to sleep, watching her chest rise and fall under the blanket. Her tits are massive, no joke, the kind that would cause back problems in real life, and at some point your MC just gives up, gets hard, and you get that great slow corruption vibe. She feels your cock pressed between her cheeks, pretends not to notice at first, then there’s that tiny grind of her hips. Nobody says anything, but suddenly you’re getting a soft, hesitant handjob under the blanket while the cross on the wall is right above you. Perfect mix of awkward and filthy. Later, when she gets more used to you, she doesn’t even hide it. She’ll straddle your lap “to wake you up”, those big boobs spilling out, slide your cock between them and give you a sloppy titjob while trying not to moan too loud because Mother’s in the next room. And when she looks up with that half scared, half turned-on face, drool on her lips, you just know she’s done being a virgin in her head, even if she still lies to herself about it.

What really sells it though are the little scenes that go too far and don’t even apologize. There’s one time you catch Mother Superior praying alone, all serious, eyes closed, talking about “guidance” and “purity”, and you just stand behind her a bit too long, staring at her ass under that robe. The game lets you hover there, gives you the option to leave like a good boy, or stay and push it. If you stay, you brush against her “by accident”, hands lingering on her waist, and she stiffens, keeps praying, but doesn’t move away. You whisper something filthier than you should, and she just breathes heavier. A few scenes later she’s on her knees in front of you, that same prayer position, only now your cock is in her mouth, her lips wrapped tight, tears in her eyes from taking it deep. She looks up while sucking, humiliated and aroused, her hands stroking your shaft, a bit of spit running down her chin. The game actually lets you grab her head and fuck her throat hard, and she chokes, drools, and somehow you still see that “holy” vibe in her face. Then you’ve got the younger sister experimenting with toys she bought cheap online, thinking nobody’s watching. You peek from the bathroom crack while she slides a shiny vibrator between those thick thighs, panties pushed aside, mumbling your name without admitting it. Later she begs you to “just help her a little”, which ends with her on all fours on the motel bed, your big cock buried in her ass while she clutches the stained sheets, moaning into a pillow so Father in jail won’t hear her from heaven or whatever. There’s group stuff too, when they finally give up the act, all of them around you, hands and mouths and tits everywhere, one riding you raw, another using her feet on your shaft while the third licks your balls like a good little fucktoy. It’s not classy, it’s not subtle, it’s messy corruption of a whole little “holy” harem in a trashy motel, and that’s exactly the point.