HornyCraft is one of those games that looks like a stupid dick joke at first glance and then suddenly you’ve spent half the evening making a milky sex farm in a world made of blocks. You play as this guy, Steve, classic cubic idiot with a pickaxe, stuck in a place where every cave and house and forest has something horny lurking in it. It keeps the basic survival and crafting backbone, but everything is twisted toward porn logic. You chop wood, smash some stone, craft a bed, then realize you’re not really building a base, you’re building a fuck hub where monster girls just wander in and turn your “storage room” into a breeding corner. I liked how the first time you meet a busty creeper girl it feels like a horror game for one second, she’s coming at you with those weird sounds, and then the animation kicks in and suddenly you’re watching this shaky blowjob scene with green slime dripping off her tits while you’re still trying to remember which hotkey opens inventory.

What sticks out for me, as someone who actually cares how BDSM and power stuff is shown, is that it’s messy but not totally brain dead. You get this mix of goofy parody and real kink. Like, you’re tying up a monster milf in a stone cellar you crafted yourself, torchlight flickering, and the scene plays with her trying to bargain, teasing you, and you choosing whether you fuck her mouth or make her drink her own milk from those massive tits. The game likes lactation a lot, sometimes too much, it will throw milk on screen like a busted faucet, and then just move on like nothing happened. One second you’re milking a futa spider girl you lured in with crafted web traps, handjob plus oral at the same time, very animated, all that twitchy leg motion, and right after that Steve is cutting trees again like some boring worker in a mobile idle game. It breaks the mood, but in a weird way it also works, because it feels like porn slapped on top of a grindy sandbox instead of pretending to be some deep story. Lesbian scenes pop up here and there too, like when two monster girls start going at each other in a small wooden shack you built for storage, and the game just lets you stand in the doorway and watch, or jump in, or shove one of them on her knees. Some of the horror bits try to be serious, dark caves, creepy moans, that kind of stuff, but you know it is all just foreplay to another blowjob animation or a stacked milf villager riding Steve on a crafting table like it is nothing special. I do wish the UI didn’t feel like a half-finished mobile port and that the text didn’t look like someone typed it in a hurry on WhatsApp, but whatever, the important part is that when a huge-titted zombie girl crawls out of a hole you accidentally mined into and pins Steve to a wall, the game actually lets the scene breathe, gives you a bit of control, a bit of roughness, and does not pretend it is vanilla. It is stupid, horny, and clumsy, but I kept remembering small things like the sound of milk dripping on wooden planks or the way a shy slime girl slowly wraps around Steve’s cock after you “help” her with a crafting ingredient, which tells me the dev understands at least one thing very well: people are here to get off, not to be impressed.

Hero story on the surface, total filth underneath. That’s the whole vibe here. You’re not the shining savior, you’re the snake in the sleeping bag. The world is doing that classic “demon horde rising again” thing, the Hero’s party is all proud and hopeful, and you’re there smiling like a good little ally while secretly sent by the Demon King to fuck everything up from inside. And “fuck” is not just metaphor here. You’re working your way through trust, lust and corruption at the same time, pushing everyone in the party over the edge in different ways. One girl starts all pure and doe-eyed, blushing when you brush her hand, then five scenes later she’s moaning with tongue out and eyes rolled back while you rail her from behind, fat creampie dripping while she’s supposed to be “on watch” for monsters. Another guy in the group is a cocky swordsman, all talk about honor, and you slowly grind him down with teasing, humiliation and those “friendly” training sessions that turn into blowjob practice, then sissification, then him begging to wear panties under his armor. The game really loves that slow slide from normal to “how the hell did we get here” and it doesn’t apologize at all.

What sells it is how it mixes the fantasy quest with filthy little betrayals. You’re doing typical RPG stuff, traveling, camp scenes, tavern stays, but every stop is a new chance to twist someone a bit more. Helping the healer “meditate”? Actually guiding her through “special breathing” while your hand is between her legs and she’s leaking on your fingers. Sparring with the Hero? You tire him out on purpose, then leave him to sleep while you sneak off and fuck his crush hard enough she starts lactating in a later scene, and you make sure he walks in just in time to see the internal view shot of your cum overflowing from her stretched pussy. There is a lot of voyeur stuff like that, you arranging things so people catch each other in the worst possible moment, then using the shame to push them even deeper: blackmailing the proud mage with that time she let you titfuck her in the bath, turning it into regular “magic lessons” with her on her knees, or forcing the tanky milf knight to let you spank and grope her under her armor right in the town square because she “owes” you for saving her from a monster girl that you actually lured her into. And yeah, the monster girls get in on it too, sometimes joining the group sex, sometimes being your tools, sometimes corrupting you right back with a surprise anal scene where you pretend you’re in control but she clearly isn’t fooled.

The sex is all over the place in a good way and a messy way. You get sweet romance moments where you almost feel bad, like when the Hero’s childhood friend whispers she wants to carry your baby because she thinks it’ll make you closer to the Hero, and then the game just slams into hardcore group scene with her pinned, double stuffed, drooling ahegao face while you use her like a toy. One evening you’re giving “foot massage” to the party’s stern elf archer that ends with her sliding her toes around your shaft, totally red but still trying to act calm, and the next morning she’s the one offering to help you “relax” with a handjob behind some ruins, pretending it’s just physical relief so she doesn’t have to admit she’s addicted. There is lesbian stuff between party members you twisted emotionally, traps that start as jokes from the Demon King side and turn into full on submissive little pets in your harem, interracial scenes with captured enemies you flip over to your side using nothing but your cock and a bit of humiliation. You get classic blowjob, anal, multiple penetration, toys jammed in during battle prep, the Hero getting cucked in ten different ways without even realizing half of it, and a lot of those evil little moments where you watch from the shadows while they masturbate thinking about you, then you step out and ruin them more. It’s not soft, it’s not “healthy”, it’s dirty spying, gaslighting, teasing and training wrapped around an adventure that pretends to be heroic while you quietly turn the whole party into your personal, leaking, obedient mess.

Starship discipline is completely fucked here, in the funniest, dirtiest way possible. You get handed the captain’s chair on the Cerritos, but it feels more like they dumped you in a floating frat house filled with horny degenerates in Starfleet colors. Everyone is used to Admiral Freeman looking the other way, so when you start trying to clean things up, the crew basically tells you to suck it. Half the time you’re walking down a corridor and some ensign has their uniform half open, covered in cum, trying to hide a hard-on or wiping drool off their lips after “checking the sonic shower.” The ship looks like Star Trek, but the mood is more like a super trashy porn parody where nobody remembered the part about “professional behavior.” And you are absolutely encouraged to abuse that.

The center of the chaos is Beckett Mariner, of course. She knows you can’t just throw the admiral’s daughter out an airlock, so she tests every limit she can. One moment she’s lounging in your chair with her boots on the console, tits almost spilling out of her uniform jacket, fake-innocent face and those stupid ahegao eyes when you finally snap and drag her into the ready room. The game really likes that shift from “smartass brat” to “corrupted little cumtoy,” especially when you start using blackmail. You catch her in compromising spots, collect dirty data, and then slowly push things from “get on your knees and swallow” to “bend over the tactical console, I want to see just how tight that ass is.” She resists in that playful way at first, talks back, but the art leans heavy into humiliation: tears in the corners of her eyes, tongue out, mascara a mess, expression halfway between hating you and begging you to creampie her again. The AI-style CG is weirdly perfect for this kind of parody, everything slightly exaggerated, breasts too big for regulation uniforms, cumshots overdramatic, but it fits the whole “cheap bootleg holodeck program” vibe. And it is animated, so you really sit there watching her get filled, milk leaking, mouth drooling, your choices affecting if she ends up more broken-in, covered in bukkake like a used toy, or still pretending she’s in control while she rides you and moans your rank.

What caught me off guard is how the game doesn’t just stop at “straight captain dominates bratty officer.” Lower deck kids and random crew open up way dirtier routes. You walk into the cargo bay and spot two male ensigns “wrestling,” cocks out, one already dripping. That can spiral into you forcing them to service you as punishment, lining them up and choosing who takes you in the ass, who licks your balls clean, who drinks the load. There is gay stuff that doesn’t feel like an afterthought, more like the ship is just completely horny and nobody cares about orientation anymore. Then there is the whole trap and futa angle, uniforms hiding surprise dicks, big tits paired with a throbbing cock that strains the Starfleet fabric. One minute you think you’re punishing a cute, shy communications officer, next moment she drops her pants and you’re staring at a hard shaft and a wet slit both, and the game just goes “yeah, use all of it.” You can force them to suck you, fuck them until their own cum sprays on the control panel, or take it yourself if you lean into being a greedy captain who wants every hole filled. There are scenes where you make an officer pump milk out of her huge tits right onto the floor while everyone watches, or you order a line of crew to kneel and finish them off one by one, covering faces and mouths until they look like someone set a bukkake filter over a still from Lower Decks. Then there are cheating bits, too: married officers getting reamed in your quarters, whispering that their partner doesn’t touch them like this, while you record everything for later blackmail. It’s unapologetically trashy, sometimes mean, and occasionally so over the top you just start laughing, but it keeps that Star Trek parody flavor through all the corruption, like a filthy holodeck program somebody forgot to lock with a command code.

Epifania looks like some luxury fashion week gone rotten in the sexiest way. Neon on wet concrete, everyone pretending to be high class while they’re literally lining up for a hole in the wall. You arrive as this nobody with big hunger and zero connections, just you and this building that looks like an abandoned outlet store someone forgot to bulldoze. Then that Devil Investor shows up, all smug and perfectly dressed, like the kind of client who sits front row at a fetish runway show and buys the entire collection with one bored click. She doesn’t ask if you want in. She just throws you the mission: turn this wreck into the most profitable and depraved brothel in the city. And suddenly you’re balancing spreadsheets and cumshots in the same breath, which, honestly, feels familiar to anyone who tried to run an Etsy store while doomscrolling Pornhub.

First thing that caught my designer brain: the girls are not copy-paste dolls. You start “training” them and it feels weirdly like fitting models for a very, very illegal lingerie line. You watch them change from shy little things clinging to basic underwear into total predators who know exactly how to use lace, heels, and a dripping mouth. Some are sweet mom-types with soft tummies and milk-heavy breasts, the kind you’d shoot for an expensive maternity fetish catalog. You push them into public booths where strangers use them like shared accessories. That whole gloryhole section? It’s like designing a collection where the face is irrelevant, only the silhouette of thighs and tits matters. I hated how it turned me on. I loved how it turned me on. It’s messy like that. One night I focused on a single “pure” girl, double-checking her stats on my phone between Instagram stories, trying to keep her first time special then casually booking her into a gangbang room right after because the numbers looked good. The game doesn’t guilt-trip you. It just quietly asks: more clients or more conscience? And you already know the answer, you capitalist slut.

The management part is sneaky. You think it’s just clicking upgrades, then you realize you’re planning who gets which kink like you’re coordinating outfits for a runway lineup: anal queen here, bondage star there, the tall milf with heavy lactation in the VIP lounge that smells like perfume and sweat. There’s this weird thrill watching your building go from dusty warehouse to multi-floor pleasure machine, with private rooms, voyeur windows, and that one office where you handle “contracts” with potential corporate partners who want their own harem branch. I kept pausing, thinking how I’d design actual lingerie sets for them: soft leather harnesses for the submissive accountant type, transparent body stocking for the market manipulator who ruins competitors while taking a footjob on her desk. At one point I was negotiating prices for public use sessions on one screen and sketching a crotchless bodysuit in Procreate on the other, and it all just blended. The game lets you push the girls into pregnancy deals like they’re limited edition drops, fill them up, send them back out, watch clients line up for that. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. I still wish the interface didn’t hide some details in tiny menus like some cheap fast-fashion site, but then I catch myself zooming in on a courtesan getting her ass filled and I forget what I was annoyed about. Anyway, the city doesn’t care. You start with nothing, you end with a building full of moaning, swollen, used bodies and a bank account that keeps climbing every time someone walks through your doors. It feels like running a fashion brand where the models never leave the show, they just keep getting fucked harder behind the curtain.