Bindr feels like someone mashed together a horny LinkedIn, a dating app and a BDSM diary, then gave you god mode and said “ok, you’re the guy who *made* this thing, now go ruin lives nicely”. You’re not some random broke loser swiping right on bots, you are the dev, the puppet master, the dude with the master key to the kink vault. Every profile you open is like spying on a different fetish ecosystem: rich brats who want to be treated like property, smug dommes that talk like they own your spine, “good boys” pretending they don’t crave humiliation while their tag list screams the opposite. The whole thing plays like a dating sim that forgot to be shy, where the romance route and the “put a collar on me and make me your slave” route are almost the same, just with different levels of lube and crying. You go from flirty texting to “here’s my toy box, pick something and tell me what you’ll do to me” way faster than any real app ever would, which honestly feels more honest than Tinder.

What I like is how it lets you switch vibe without asking permission. One chat you’re this smooth caring dom, praising her, teasing, spanking just enough so her ass matches the blush on her cheeks, then in the next match you’re the one getting dragged by a ruthless CEO type who uses her heels like negotiation tools and treats your balls like a poorly performing department. One girl suck you off in a quiet, almost sweet way, eyes up, hair tucked, and the scene feels romantic. Later there’s a tag combo of anal, multiple penetration and humiliation that basically goes “romance is cancelled today” and the same app suddenly feels like a porn dungeon with a search bar. Sometimes you think “ok this is too much”, like when a scene tries to mix cuddly romance talk with hardcore slave play in the same breath and your brain is stuck between “aww” and “oh fuck that’s rough”. There are moments where the BDSM feels more like checkbox porn than real power exchange, like someone went “we need footjob, throw it in here between the handjob and the creampie and don’t think about pacing”, but then the next match has this quiet little blowjob scene where she’s the one in control just by slowing down and staring, and it hits harder than all the whips. Also, tiny thing that drove me crazy: the way the in-game app noises pop at weird times, like a notification chime right when you’re about to finish a scene, completely killing the mood, and then it never stops doing that, like a horny Outlook calendar that hates you. You’ll be mid-anal, mid-slurping, mid-groping, trying to decide if you want to be the gentle romantic or the cruel bastard, and the game just throws another Bindr ping in your ear like “hey, stop cumming, new match”. Honestly, I kind of love it. And I don’t. At all.

Quiet main guy with anger issues and a messy past, whole town calling him a killer, comes crawling back home with this crazy mix of guilt and “fuck you all” energy. That’s the mood. You’re not some heroic knight, you’re the dude who got his life ripped apart and now you’re choosing if people get punished, forgiven, or fucked stupid on the way to their doom. Sometimes all three at once. One second you’re watching from the shadows like a creep, peeking through doors, catching your “perfect” milf aunt fingering herself over some drama nonsense, next second you’re deciding if you just watch or walk in, grab her by the hair, and make her choke on your cock while she begs you to forgive the family. The game is very much: “Are you here for justice, or are you here to ruin everyone and cum inside them while they cry?” and the answer is usually yes.

You get this weird mix of romance and pure filth that kinda shouldn’t work, but somehow does. Like, the shy “good girl” who defended you when the others called you a monster? She’s technically off limits, yeah? Childhood crush, still virgin, still looking at you with those soft eyes. You can be gentle, take her first time slow, kiss her forehead, let her ride you while she shakes and clings to you like you’re the only safe thing left in the world. Or you just pin her down, hand over her mouth so the others in the house don’t hear, push into her tight pussy while she whimpers under you, and finish with a deep creampie she didn’t really agree to. The game doesn’t flinch. Sleep sex too, if you’re that kind of bastard: sneaking into her room when she’s out cold, pulling her panties aside, slowly sliding in while she’s half dreaming, half moaning your name, and you’re sitting there deciding if that’s “love” or just you using her like a toy. And yes, it actually animates those moments, hips moving, tits bouncing, your load spilling back out when you’re done. It’s dirty, in a way that feels personal, not just porn noise.

The power stuff hits hard because everyone tried to control you, so now you get to flip it. There are scenes where the same woman that lied about you is on her knees licking your feet, kissing your toes, trying to convince you she’s loyal while you rest your cock on her face like she’s furniture. Sometimes you go full male dom, handprints on asses, spanking until they cry, forcing them to jerk you off with shaky hands, or wrapping their tits around you for a messy titjob that ends all over their face while they call you “sir” with mascara running. Other times, you get trapped in their games. One of the older women can straight up ride your face and balls at the same time, pinning you down, making you cum on command like she’s the judge now, and you’re the poor bastard on trial. There’s even this moment where a woman spits on your cock, strokes you slow with her feet, teasing you for being so easy to control, and you’re just stuck watching your own precum drip on her soles. Interracial stuff shows up too, like the darker-skinned girl who talks big, then melts when you push her against a wall and pump her full, promising you’ll “ruin every hole” next time. And yes, expect spying on showers, catching them touching themselves, ending in more harem chaos than any serious revenge story should have. If you want every spicy scene to actually hit, don’t skip dialog, don’t rush. Let them talk, let the guilt and hate simmer, then when the clothes come off, fuck them like you’re settling an old score, not just clearing a gallery.

It begins like it wants to be about family, but then it just… doesn’t behave. That first evening, when David stares too long at his coworker’s neckline, the game pretends it’s about choice, though every click exposes a new shade of self-deception. There’s something oddly literary about watching these people unravel: both of them pretending they’re still in control while the text just keeps baiting you with small, filthy possibilities that feel too intimate to resist. I remember getting stuck on a scene where Anna walks past the neighbor’s window wearing basically nothing, because she’s bored, or angry, or maybe trying to remember she’s desired. You don’t know. The narration doesn’t tell you. And that’s the best part - it’s dirty, but also confusing, like real jealousy. You’ll think you hate everyone in it, then suddenly feel sorry when someone moans at the wrong moment.

Sometimes it feels like reading a private diary someone left open on Steam by mistake. There’s a quiet, slow burn at first - teasing, staring, little violations that shouldn’t matter - but the pacing keeps tripping over its own guilt. The erotic bits come fast, almost abrupt, and the author doesn’t even try to clean them up. It’s clumsy in spots: a sloppy handjob described with too much sincerity, an argument that ends with spanking and shame instead of resolution. The whole cheating thread gives that sickly pleasure where you’re complicit but can’t stop. When pregnancy slips into the plot, it doesn’t feel planned - like the story just lost its way in the middle of the night and forgot what moral it was chasing. Someone on the dev’s Discord said it’s “romance with rot,” and that weirdly fits. You can tell it was written by a person who doesn’t trust love but still wants to taste it through someone else’s mess.

I think what kept me playing wasn’t the sex at all (though there’s milking - take that however you like), but the voyeuristic awkwardness. You’re watching a marriage decompose in slow motion and occasionally pressing “Continue” just to see if they’ll humiliate themselves even deeper. It’s ugly, honest, sometimes hot, sometimes exhausting. I closed the window and still caught myself thinking about Anna’s face when she realizes someone’s watching.

You start as this quiet security guy who is clearly paid way too little for how dirty his nights get. Camera feeds, dark corridors, bored scrolling on your phone, that constant low buzz of cheap lights above your head. The whole place feels like it wants to keep secrets, and everybody around you already has one. The mafia angle actually works here, not just as excuse for guns and tattoos, but as this weird family you get sucked into, with people who smile at you while planning how to break someone’s fingers in the next room. It’s the kind of world where “loyalty” means a lot until someone prettier walks in with a better offer or shorter skirt.

The boss’s daughter is where everything breaks open. She walks like she owns not only the club, but your dick too, long before she even touches you. At first she flirts in front of the cameras, knowing exactly which angles you see from the control room. Short skirt, no bra, leaning over desks when she clearly doesn’t need to. She treats the surveillance system like her own private stage. There is a scene where she’s talking to her father in the office, pretending to be this innocent girl, and the second he leaves, she sits on the desk facing the camera, spreads her legs a bit and just stares into the lens like she knows you are about to undo your belt. That slow burn voyeur stuff works better than all the usual instant porn clicks. You feel like a creep. A very happy creep. And then later she acts offended you watched. Of course she knew. Of course she likes it. It’s a mafia world, everyone likes a bit of control, even when they pretend they hate it.

What I didn’t expect is how the game makes “security work” into foreplay. Checking blind spots, timing patrols, figuring out which camera to switch off right before your “meeting” with her in the storage room. One time she drags you into this dim back corridor, hand pressed over your mouth, telling you to be quiet while she jerks you off against a wall, and at the same time you keep one eye on the tiny monitor behind her to make sure no one sees. There is this mixture of panic and arousal that feels very honest, like being hard at the worst possible moment. Then things get heavier. Her idea of fun slides from teasing to choking, collar play, you on your knees between her thighs while her father is literally in the next room talking business. She will suck you off under a desk and then five minutes later act like you are her new bodyguard, ordering you to keep other girls “safe”, when everyone knows you are just checking them out on camera and imagining who will end up on their knees next. There is anal in places where nobody should realistically try anal, facials on floors that never get cleaned, a closed door scene where you hear two women moaning and only see them through a dusty monitor, their legs tangled together while you stroke yourself, too nervous to walk in. Corruption creeps up slowly, one favor at a time, until you realize you are no longer the quiet guard, but the guy coordinating who goes where, who gets tied up, who gets shared. And if you are smart, you’ll take it slow, let the teasing scenes breathe, stay a little longer on each camera, watch how their faces change when they think nobody is looking, then walk in at the worst possible moment and ruin their fake innocence properly.