This one feels like someone took a horny fashion week, locked it inside a demon brothel and then said “ok, now make it emotional but still fuck a lot.” The House itself is basically a luxury showroom where every corridor feels like a backstage runway right before the models go out, except the models are demons and humans trying to fuck their way to a Hall of Fame. I’m a lingerie designer by job, so I notice stupid things first. The first time you meet one of the girls, the way her outfit tells you exactly who she is before she speaks really hit me. Lace that looks innocent from far, but closer you see it barely hides anything. Straps that look decorative, but they sit exactly where a hand would grab during sex. Superpowers here are not just some menu choice, they feel like extra accessories on a body. Power is styled, not only written. You’re a demon with memories locked away and somehow the story still wants you to care about feelings while also asking you “ok, which pussy do you want tonight?” It should not work, but it kind of does. Or it doesn’t. I can’t decide.

The whole “performer” angle makes the sex feel like a show you’re also directing, not only watching. There’s a moment where one girl is trying so hard to impress you that she holds her pose longer than is actually sexy, like a model freezing for a bad photographer. She keeps her legs open, panting, waiting for your next choice, and there’s this tiny second where you see her doubt slip through the dirty talk. That tiny second is weirdly hotter than the actual vaginal sex that follows. Speaking of that, the game is not shy. Penetration is treated like something serious, not “and then dick goes in, fade to black.” You pick how you approach, how rough, how soft, and her reaction is not just one repeated moan file in your mind. She complains, she teases, she even gets annoyed at you once for stopping halfway and I liked that a lot. No, actually I hated it, because I had to reload to see another option and the menu font is too damn small and now I am angry again. Anyway. The House is all about “who pushes which button” and sometimes that is literal: there are choices that feel like pressing a nipple, or sliding two fingers between lace and skin. The game pretends to care about your mission to save someone important, but every time a girl leans in, whispers in your ear, offers you her throat and her thighs, the whole grand destiny thing disappears like last season’s collection. Which is fine. Or not. I actually forgot to talk about the harem side, but you already know what that means. You start thinking “I’ll stay loyal to this one broken, beautiful demon” and two scenes later you are balls deep in someone else, promising her she is special too. And the thing is, the House believes you. That’s what sticks after closing the tab: all these women styled like living lingerie, each one trying to be your favorite outfit, while you pretend you’re choosing with your heart and not with your cock.

I didn’t expect the opening scene to slap that hard. You’re just standing there, half-broken hull around you, half-naked angel girl trying to look dignified while her collar blinks red every few seconds like some sick metronome. The captain walks in, voice like a bad radio signal, and you already know he’s going to be trouble. He touches her shoulder and - bam - your gut twists, not from shock, but from that weird cocktail of jealousy and arousal that this game keeps feeding you. It’s dirty, but not in the lazy way. The camera lingers too long, like it’s daring you to blink first. I didn’t. The whole thing plays out like someone’s fever dream of power and guilt and skin. Makes you feel complicit, which I kinda like. Some games treat voyeurism like a kink checkbox; this one makes it feel like a confession.

Then there’s that sequence in the maintenance bay - god, the lighting there. Blue flicker off the coolant pipes, the hum of half-dead machinery, and she’s there again, pretending not to notice you. The teasing is mean, but not cartoonishly so. She leans over, the slave tag glinting on her neck, and you can almost smell the metal. I won’t say the animation’s perfect - it isn’t - but it stumbles in a way that feels almost human. The moans don’t line up sometimes, and that somehow makes it better. You start thinking about the morality system that never really punishes you enough, about how the captain’s wives don’t even care you’re stealing glances, and then suddenly there’s a flashback about the fall of the Geniorcracy and I kind of stop caring about lore entirely. Maybe it matters, maybe not. What kept me there was that slow burn humiliation mixed with tenderness, like someone whispering “you’re disgusting” but softly.

Anyway, the soundtrack’s too clean, too polished - like it doesn’t belong in that filth. And I swear one of the sound cues is stolen from some old dating sim on Nutaku. Doesn’t matter. By the time the angel finally looks you in the eye, you’ve already forgotten what you were supposed to be doing.

You’re this fresh business school grad who thought life was going to be Excel sheets, boring clients, and maybe vanilla sex with your fiancée on weekends. Instead you end up living in her family’s house, sleeping in the same place you “politely” visited before, except now everyone watches you like they’re trying to decide if you’re future son-in-law material or just a convenient hard cock they can poke to see what happens. The game leans hard into that tension. Breakfast scenes where you’re trying to act like a decent guy while your fiancée’s mom bends over in front of you in a way no normal mom does, tight shirt, nipples almost visible, asking innocent questions while her eyes drop just a bit too low. The teasing feels personal, not cartoonish. Like, you’re on the couch pretending to care about some movie, and she brushes past you, her hand just lightly touching your thigh, then nothing. No big announcement. Just that slow “am I imagining this” build that makes the later groping feel earned and dirty as hell.

What I liked way more than I expected: the game does not treat the main guy as some porn robot who just fucks anything that breathes without thinking. He’s horny, yeah, but there are these little inner monologue moments where he hesitates before cheating on Anna, or at least tries to. There’s a scene where Anna gives you this sweet, clumsy oral while clearly still kind of a good girl, then later that same day her older relative brushes your crotch under the table like it’s nothing. The choice to push it further or pull back hits different when you know you’re about to blow a load in someone who is not your fiancée, in the same house, with her maybe walking in. When the game finally lets you go full harem brain and start juggling multiple women, the writing remembers they’re not just walking holes. Some are shy, some are bossy, some pretend they don’t want it while their bodies scream yes, which raises that whole consent question in a virtual space: are we just reenacting bad porn logic, or is the game actually checking in on what “yes” means, even if it’s pixels and code? It feels weirdly important when you’re lining up a creampie in someone who just called you “family” five minutes earlier.

The explicit stuff is not shy at all. Anal scenes show up after a good amount of teasing, not right away, usually as a “special favor” or a moment when a character is trying to prove she trusts you more than the others. Virginity is treated like a real turning point. There’s one first-time vaginal scene where the girl is clearly nervous, you can back off or keep going, and even though it’s obviously scripted, it scratches that part of the brain asking “is this still okay?” more than most porn games bother to. Oral is everywhere, from quick stress-relief blowjobs in the hallway to slow, eye contact heavy sucking that almost feels too intimate for a random click-through. The animated sex makes all this way more intense than just static CGs. When you push a character down and start groping her while she pretends to resist then melts into it, the looped motion, the slight changes in expression, they hit that line between fantasy and “wait, am I being an asshole?” which, honestly, is kind of what a lot of players come here for but never say out loud. As an ethics nerd, I kept thinking how this whole setup normalizes cheating and power imbalance, yet here I am, replaying the scene where you finish inside someone you absolutely should not be creampying, and then checking their face for regret like it matters. That’s the game’s real kink: not just fucking, but making you sit in that space where your dick and your conscience don’t fully agree, and still clicking “continue”.

Galaxies are dead quiet until somebody tries to blow you up in your own shitty space apartment. That is basically how this thing kicks off. One second your biggest problem is overdue space-rent and a fridge with one sad noodle box, next second the whole building goes up, alarms screaming, and you are crawling out of burning junk with some assassin still trying to finish the job. It feels chaotic in a fun way, not like “cinematic masterpiece,” more like “holy shit what just happened, also I kind of have a boner.” And then your partner is gone. Not dead, not clearly kidnapped, just missing, and everyone you ask acts like they absolutely know something but would rather jerk you off with sandpaper than tell you straight. The vibe is very “galactic conspiracy but also everyone is horny and kind of an idiot.” I liked it. I also hated how often I paused because some girl moaned in my headphones while I was in line at Starbucks, but that’s on me, not the dev.

Sex scenes are where it really stops pretending to be serious. One minute you are arguing with some merc chick over who screwed up the contract, next minute she has you pinned in the cargo bay, riding you slow while still half in armor, visor thrown off, voice actress just going for it. The animations are not perfect, you can see some janky loops sometimes, but honestly the slightly rough look makes it hotter. There is a blowjob in a cramped shuttle cockpit where she keeps glancing up to the starfield while your character is trying to keep the ship steady and failing badly. I had to grip my phone like it was going to escape. Handjobs pop up a lot too, not lazy ones, more like those teasing “I know you have questions about the missing partner but let me stroke you until you forget what you were asking” scenes. And they work. Too well. One dancer in a space-club drags your hands to her ass, gives you a lazy handjob through your pants, and you can choose to be a half-decent human or just pull her into the private room and go fully vaginal, legs around your waist, heels scraping your back. I absolutely went for the worst option. Twice.

What surprised me was how they play the more fucked up stuff next to the comedy. There is this ambush on a derelict station where enemies actually die ugly, blood on bulkheads, one guy basically torn open by some drone, and right after that you end up hiding out in a filthy maintenance room with a sarcastic engineer girl who is still covered in someone else’s blood while she casually jerks you off to “calm you down.” The contrast feels wrong in a good way. The game keeps dropping jokes in the middle of serious scenes, like the main dude cracks some stupid one-liner while he is literally balls deep in an alien officer, her boots pressed to his chest so it lowkey turns into a footjob halfway through. She keeps gasping in this clipped, aristocratic accent, trying to stay in control while he smacks into her harder and harder. Fully voiced, too, so your volume slider will become your best friend if you live with thin walls. The harem angle sneaks up on you, suddenly you realize you have a cynical pilot who likes oral in the cockpit, a shy scientist who lets you fuck her on a lab counter between data scans, and that one crazy assassin girl who uses her feet on your cock first, then sits down on it like it owes her money. And all the while the big mystery of “what happened to Earth” and “where the hell is my partner” is dangling there, but honestly half the time I forgot to care because someone was already on their knees, tongue out, ready to make me forget the plot again. In a good way. Mostly.