High School Hobby Harlots feels like someone mashed together a horny comic, an old-school hentai dating sim and a messy sandbox life sim, then laughed and said “good enough” and hit upload. You play Amara, this spoiled rich troublemaker dumped into a “reform school” that is about as holy as a Pornhub comment section. The whole vibe is super tongue in cheek: nuns with dirty thoughts, students who look like they’re one bad decision away from starting an OnlyFans, and teachers that definitely should not be left alone with anyone. The art is 2D comic panels, kind of fanzine style, sometimes clean, sometimes rough, but it fits the “I’m not supposed to be doing this” mood perfectly. It feels like reading a dirty webcomic where you keep clicking for the next punchline and suddenly you’re knee deep in anal, voyeurism, and girls showing way too much skin in the chapel.

The fun part for me was how the game quietly turns you into a little sex manager. You’re not just clicking through scenes. You’re juggling stats like Fun, Energy, Allure, Sexperience and Money, and they actually matter. You wanna drag a classmate into your corruption spiral, you better have enough Allure and the right timing, because some events only trigger when Amara is in a certain mood or you pushed a girl just far enough. One moment I was in the dorm teasing a shy girl with a toy, just casual masturbation training, and a bit later she’s sucking dick on camera for Amara’s iFap channel like it’s no big deal. The pacing of that fall is nice and dirty. Corruption here isn’t just a label. You can feel it when a girl that refused to flash her tits earlier suddenly agrees to public exhibition in the showers while other students “pretend” they’re not watching. The camming storyline is hilarious and sleazy at the same time: you push them into doing oral, playing with themselves, trying anal plugs on stream, and the game keeps throwing in those quips that make you grin like an idiot. Then you level them up even more and suddenly escorting on iFuq is on the table, with group sex events and weird little interracial scenes that pop up like “oh ok, we’re doing this now.” Some of the sandbox routine gets a bit grindy, like you’re repeating similar actions hoping for the next random sexy event, and sometimes the timing feels like Ren’Py rolled a nat 1 on your libido. But then you get a new event with Amara taking two girls to a “study session” that somehow turns into lesbian foreplay, a spanking lesson and finally everyone stuffed and covered, and you kinda forgive the jank. It’s messy, it’s horny, it’s funny in a dumb way, and the game doesn’t pretend to be classy. It just hands you a reform school full of difficult girls and asks, very politely, how filthy you feel like making them today.

This one starts like some epic fairy tale your grandma would censor with a black marker, then just falls face first into filth in the nicest way. You’re this classic heroic dude with a sword, a job from the king, plague on the land, cursed forest, all that fantasy poster stuff. And on your arm, there’s Vallabelle, your elf wife, all holy robes and huge tits and that kind of ass that makes armor look illegal. She is written like this sweet, loyal priestess who’d probably heal your paper cut and apologize to the cut. And that’s exactly why the whole corruption thing hits harder. The game doesn’t rush into the porn right away. It does that slow boil where you’re walking through traps, monsters, ruins, and you can feel the forest looking at her more than at you. Long shots on her thigh when she climbs, her robes riding up, camera hanging just a bit too low when she bends to heal somebody. At first it feels like normal fanservice and you’re like “ok sure, jiggle physics.” Then you notice where the camera always is when she casts spells. Below. Always below.

Since it’s a straight kinetic story, there’s no pretending you’re in control. No choices, no branches, no magic button to “save Vallabelle.” You just click, watch, and slowly realize this quest is way more about her body than the stupid cure. You get these small scenes where she clings to you after a fight, shaking with fear, and your guy is trying to stay noble while the game already set her up as the perfect target. Big tits squeezed into that priest dress, hips that don’t know the meaning of modesty, shy smile that says “no” while the plot has already decided “yes, but later and with tentacles.” The pacing loves teasing. She gets groped by “accident” when a monster grabs her from behind, hands everywhere, her moans halfway between pain and very obvious something else. A so-called healing ritual where some shady old altar needs “physical contact” and she’s stroking, sucking, taking it like it’s all for the greater good. Your hero tells himself it’s just magic. The forest laughs.

The NTR flavor comes in quiet first. A hand that stays on her ass too long. A shot of her lips after she wipes off someone else’s cum and pretends it was part of the ceremony. You catch glimpses through bushes, like full on voyeur scenes where your character is “resting” while she goes to check something and you get these frames of her surrounded. Tentacles curling around her legs, sliding under the robe, smacking against that thick elf butt while she whimpers and still prays, because of course she does. There’s handjobs where she’s clearly trying to be “selfless” and ends up jerking off something non-human, eyes glazed, saying she only did it to protect you. Then later, oral scenes with her on her knees for someone else, drool and cum all over that pretty priest face, and the narration plays it like she’s sacrificing herself, but the blush and body language tell another story. Vaginal scenes go from “forced” to disturbingly eager, her grabbing hips, begging for more, clinging to monsters or other men with the same hands she used to hold yours. Spanking comes in as “punishment” or training, except every smack makes her ass jiggle and the camera practically worships it. She starts to arch into it, moaning too loud, and you just sit there like an idiot clicking forward, fully aware you’re not the main character anymore. The forest is. By the time she’s cheating in broad daylight, grinding that big ass down on someone else’s cock, talking about how it helps the mission, you already knew this was coming. You still feel that little stab when she looks back at you from the CG, eyes half guilty, half fucked stupid, like she remembers you just enough to hurt. And yeah, I got mad at one tiny thing: her hair clip keeps clipping through her ear in one scene and it pulled me out of the moment for two seconds. Then the tentacle went in and my brain forgot the complaint.

You play as this awkward dude, Sam, trying to look professional in an office where everyone pretends to be normal adults, while your new boss is basically the final boss of horny power games. Veronica Blackwell walks on screen in that tight office outfit and the whole vibe of the game changes. You can literally feel your mouse-hand getting more obedient every time she raises an eyebrow. It starts super tame: file this, fix that report, stay late for “just a bit more work”. Nothing wild. Then she starts getting handsy with your dignity instead of your body, which is way more fun. She locks you into this slow pacing, no skipping, no choices, just you watching Sam bend, inch by inch. And yeah, it is a kinetic novel, so forget about “I’ll just pick the dominant route”, there is none. You are the furniture. Accept it. At some point you catch yourself leaning closer to the screen when she mentions your “performance evaluation” and that says a lot about you and a bit about the writing.

What makes it hotter than it has any right to be is how casual she is about humiliating you. She talks about work metrics and career opportunities while making you kneel under her desk like it is the most reasonable thing in the world. There is a scene where she makes you clean her high heels with your tongue after a long day in the office and she does not even drop the corporate tone. She is checking emails on her phone while you are there on the carpet, licking the dirt off her soles, and she is commenting on your “attention to detail” like it is part of your internship report. The game really leans into feet and power stuff. Heels, stockings, her crossing her legs right in your face, you begging to touch or kiss her shoes and she just smirks and tosses you a command that feels more like a leash. And then, when you think it is “just” foot worship and soft humiliation, she pulls out that small metal cage for you. No warning, no drum roll, just a line like “I think you need help focusing at work” and next thing you know, Sam is locked up, hard but not allowed to be hard, if that makes sense. The writing milks that frustration on purpose. Every time she teases you after that, you can almost feel the cage squeezing. There is something messed up but very honest about that.

Art side is clean enough to do the job, nothing crazy, but the expressions matter a lot. Her smirk when you hesitate, the slight boredom when you try to resist, the way she looks down at you from the office chair like you are both a pet and a project. They reuse some backgrounds too much, but somehow that makes it feel more like an actual office grind. Same desk, same room, worse and worse situations. I was running this in Chrome with uBlock turned off for once, just sitting there on my second monitor like some degenerate pretending to answer Slack messages while Veronica is telling Sam he is not allowed to touch himself without written permission. The pacing is slow, yeah, sometimes painfully slow, but that actually fits the chastity angle too well. It is annoying and hot and annoying again. No big branching, no epic system, just a straight line falling deeper under this woman’s heel. And if that idea alone already gives you that weird tight feeling in your chest and lower, this thing is going to fry your brain in a pretty fun way.

Zeus gets a prophecy, freaks out like always, and throws you into the underworld before you even get to enjoy your first breath. That’s your childhood. Now it’s your eighteenth nameday, and suddenly all the stuff they kept from you hits at once: divinity, lust, raw destructive magic, the kind of power that makes mountains nervous and mortals wet. You’re Thalya, a futa demigoddess with a dick that is honestly treated more like a weapon than a body part, daughter of a titan of love and a war goddess who solves problems with blood and orgasms in equal measure. You’ve been hidden away in the dark, raised on stories about the world you’re not allowed to touch, and now the leash finally snaps. The whole ancient Greek world opens up like a toy box full of temples, monsters, snarky demigods with parent issues, and gods who think they’re untouchable. Spoiler: they’re not. The story just pushes you along, no choices, no fake “morality system”. You’re not here to be a hero. You’re a walking middle finger to Olympus, powered by horny spite and daddy Zeus’ paranoia.

The fun part is how the game treats your power like something alive. Lightning crawling over your skin while you pin a smug demigod against a ruined pillar and fuck the arrogance out of them. A priestess trying to pray to Athena and ending up on her knees for you instead, your hand on the back of her head, your magic seeping into her thoughts until the only worship she cares about is your cock. One scene has you stepping out of the underworld for the first time, everything blazing sunlight and marble, and the first thing you do is test your new “dominion” on a squad of armored soldiers. They raise their shields, you raise your hips, and in a blink their weapons are clattering to the ground while they stare at you with that mix of fear, awe, and desperate need. It’s not subtle. It’s not shy. The game loves big tits, big attitudes, and your big, very busy shaft, wrapping all of it in this messy, oversexed Greek mythology that feels like someone mashed together old legends, horny deviantart, and a lot of late-night power fantasies. Sometimes the writing trips over itself, like the dev typed faster than their brain, but honestly that just makes it feel more personal. You’re not guided, you’re dragged, from encounter to encounter, from orgasm to spell blast, until the idea of “good” or “evil” feels kind of pointless and all that matters is how hard you can screw over Olympus… and how many people you’ll literally screw along the way.