You wake up on this cold metal bed in a ship that hums like an old fridge and the first thing you notice is not the headache, not the missing memories, but that you are naked as fuck and someone hooked your body up like a toy. The game lets you decide pretty fast what that body even is, and it is not shy with options. You want a lean guy who gets pushed around and ends up on his knees? Go. You want a stacked futa with thick cock and tits that drip later when the drugs hit right? Also there. Female body with a dick, male body with a pussy, non-binary setup, whatever weird combo your furry brain cooked at 3 different tabs open on xVideos, it kind of lets you live that. Then the ship starts talking, crew starts showing up, and that whole “who am I” plot runs right next to “who the hell can I get to pin me to a console and breed me”. The crew is mostly guys, different vibes, some softer, some with that DILF energy where you just know they’ll pull your hair while telling you they’re doing this for your own good. It has that slow burn of corruption too, where early scenes are just teasing and “accidental” touching, then the choices pile up and suddenly you’re kneeling between two men, one in your mouth and one pressing at your ass, and you kind of know you walked yourself there step by step.

What I like is how it flips from talking about conspiracies and shady experiments into real filthy stuff without pausing to ask permission every time. One minute you are in some dark corridor snooping logs, next minute you got a hand around your throat, someone grinding your face against a bulge, and the text just spells it out. If you turn on the nastier kinks in the menu, the scenes get meaner, which I actually didn’t expect. I thought “oh nice, just more porn”, but then I hit a route where my character basically becomes a half willing slave for this calm older guy who keeps dosing you with some drug that makes you leak milk whenever he squeezes your tits. At first I was like, that’s too much, I’m just here for soft gay space romance, then there I am reading a scene where he fucks your ass on the captain chair, fingers your pussy or dick at the same time, orders you to keep eye contact while you cum and milk runs down your chest. It’s shameless. There’s humiliation edges too, like being made to clean up your own creampie with your tongue, or being passed around a small group while they comment on how tight you still are for “a well used toy”. It still tries to be funny sometimes, throws jokes in the middle of a blowjob, which kinda works and kinda ruins the mood, depends. One scene in the medbay has you strapped up for “exams” and the doctor uses toys first, slowly stretching you, talking about “data” like that explains why he has a vibrating plug with a remote, then he just goes in raw after your walls are gaping and you are begging half from embarrassment, half from need. There is also some interracial stuff later where they play with how “alien” bodies might feel, though right now most of them still look pretty human and I keep angrily waiting for real anthro options that will probably never come. Text based format actually helps here, your brain fills the gaps, so when they stack you for group sex, one cock in your mouth, one pounding your ass, one sliding into your pussy or between your thighs if you picked only one hole, it feels way more intense than some lazy clicker animation. You even get those small details, like fingers digging into your hips, someone groping your chest absentmindedly while talking business, a bored crewman getting a hand job in a storage room because he “caught” you snooping and decides you can pay with your hands instead of alarms. The game pretends it is all about choices and plot, and yes, there are combat bits and dialogs and moral stuff, but honestly the thing that sticks is that moment you realise you turned on almost every kink in the options and now your “lost in space” protagonist is on all fours in a locker room, ass dripping cum, balls or lips swollen, hearing boots stop behind them again and thinking “ok… maybe just one more”.

She’s the type of woman who walks into a lecture hall and the air just changes. Not because she’s loud - she doesn’t need to be. Her voice is low, deliberate, the kind that makes you lean in without realizing. Professor Reed doesn’t smile much, but when she does it’s never for you… until you start noticing that tiny hesitation in her tone when she calls your name. The game never rushes that tension; it lets it build and twist. Every talk in her office feels like a test you weren’t told about - intellectual, but charged as hell. The longer you stay in her orbit, the more it’s clear that she’s not as cold as she wants to be. That’s when the corruption starts creeping in, slow and almost polite at first.

There’s something really addictive about how it turns academic power games into foreplay. The writing doesn’t hold your hand - one minute you’re discussing ethics and the next you’re pulling her hair as she moans your name like it’s the only thing left she believes in. It’s not just sex scenes thrown at you (though yeah, there are plenty and they’re filthy). It’s the weird emotional rhythm between dominance and tenderness that makes everything hit harder. Her reactions - when she finally lets go, when the control slips - feel earned. Even the sandbox parts, where you can experiment a bit with how far you push her or yourself, somehow make the story more intimate instead of just checklist porn. You get to decide whether she’s your lover, your toy, or something in between.

And yeah, it’s graphic as fuck: messy titjobs that turn into handjobs that end in warm creampies on her perfect skin, moments of exhibitionism where she wants to be seen but hates that she wants it, and those rare flashes of romance that mess with your head more than any blowjob could. I found myself half turned on, half curious about how far she’d fall - or maybe how far I’d drag her down. It’s dirty, but not dumb about it. Like watching someone unbutton their soul, one button too late.

This thing is messy in a way I kinda respect. You get tossed into this warped fantasy world where reality has given up, and apparently the local wildlife has tits, claws, and a very specific interest in human cock. The story talks in first person, so it feels like your horny inner monologue got kicked out of Earth and landed in a fever dream. One minute you’re getting smacked around in some turn based fight, the next minute you’ve got a monster girl pressed against a tree while you’re deciding if you want her whining from teasing, moaning around your dick, or riding you until she leaks cum everywhere. It flips from “oh no, danger” to “oh yes, fuck me harder” faster than my mood when Grindr crashes.

The whole thing is like running a very perverted HR department in hell. You manage your little crew, you juggle resources, you worry about who’s loyal, who’s useful in combat, and who’s just there because they let you grope them whenever you’re stressed. There’s romance, but it’s that fucked up sort, with girls who will absolutely let you creampie them behind a ruined shrine, then ask if you still like them when they’re pregnant with your half-cursed brat. Some scenes are soft and sweet, like slow oral where she’s shy and drooling, or gentle handjobs while she confesses feelings. Then five minutes later you’re shoving her face against a table, spanking her ass red while she tries to keep quiet and completely fails. The writing tries to be poetic sometimes, like it wants to win a prize, and then it goes straight into “her asshole clenched around me” without any shame at all. Honestly I love it. And also I rolled my eyes. Both things true.

Combat is that chill turn based style where you’re half reading the skills, half daydreaming about the next time some exhibitionist demoness gets pinned against a wall. Some fights actually matter and you’ll be min-maxing like a weirdo, other times you just mash buttons because you only care about seeing how much milk that busty priestess can spray when you pull her top down mid-dialogue. The game keeps throwing choices at you too: do you comfort her, or do you grab her tits; do you swear devotion, or fuck her raw in public while the shadows watch. Management and romance and adventure all tangled up in this slightly unhinged, emotional dude-brain that gets way too attached to monster girls he just met. I was reading on my phone in the bathroom, lost in some deep talk about devotion and despair, and two clicks later I had her swallowing my load and begging to carry my child. It should not work. It really should not. But here I am, remembering which route gave me anal, lactation, spanking, and a love confession in the same arc like it’s important info for my taxes.

FSS Lamashtu feels like somebody mashed up a cold war naval thriller with a filthy space brothel and then forgot which part was supposed to be serious. You’re the freshly minted captain of this “experimental cruiser” that is absolutely not built for exploration, unless you count exploring how many holes your crew can take in a single patrol. Officially it’s the proud weapon of the Alliance, last hope in a long-ass war. Unofficially it’s your floating fuck-lab, staffed with officers who look like they came out of a horny AI art generator after you typed “war crime but sexy” too many times. The ship layout screen is almost a character by itself: bridge, medbay, cargo, those little tucked-away compartments you quickly learn are perfect for “private disciplinary sessions.” You jump between menus pretending to care about fleet orders, but the only thing you actually remember is which corridor you cornered that technician in when she kept “accidentally” brushing her giant tits against you.

The story likes to pretend it’s about geopolitics and rebellion, and sometimes it even tricks you. You’ll get this long briefing about the Neo-Terran strategic line, convoy raids, morale of the Alliance, all that stuff. Then two clicks later, you’re watching a proud enemy pilot on her knees, mascara running, mouth full of cum while she tries to spit out her rank and serial number. The tone whiplash is almost funny. There’s a certain charm in how the game refuses to pick a lane: you capture prisoners, you break them in slowly or just slam straight into collar-and-chain slavery, you’re supposed to feel the “moral weight” of it, but the next scene has them begging for anal like they read the script ahead of time. The AI CG does that exaggerated wetness thing, where every hole looks like you dumped a bucket of lube on it, and every creampie is this ridiculous white flood that should qualify as a bio-weapon. Sometimes the faces twist into that extreme, over-the-top ahegao that doesn’t even look human anymore, more like a melted idol poster, and it somehow fits this world where war propaganda and porn have fused into one genre.

What sticks in my mind most is how physical the ship starts to feel. You’re not just choosing sex options, you’re shaping routines. That science officer who starts with stiff posture and carefully zipped uniform? A few “private evaluations” in your quarters, and suddenly she’s walking around with visible bite marks on her neck, trying not to react when you casually grope her in front of others. There’s a scene in the hangar where two captured enemy girls are supposed to be processed for interrogation, and you can decide if that means basic questions or “group demonstration of Alliance hospitality.” The way their bodies are posed, covered in semen from multiple angles, has that bukkake ritual vibe, everyone participating because the war needs “unity.” You get toy usage too, not just as accessories but as tools of control: a vibrator left inside during a formal strategy meeting, the slow dawning horror on your new slave’s face when she realizes the remote is in your pocket while admirals talk about casualties. The game never really resolves whether you’re a genius commander or just a sex-obsessed tyrant who got lucky with experimental hardware. At some point there’s a tender-ish lesbian moment tucked awkwardly between brutal scenes, two crew girls comforting each other after a mission, fingers exploring, tongues slow and hesitant, and for once you’re not in the frame at all. It feels almost like the game forgot its own premise for a second, then remembers, throws you back into forced deepthroat in a dark interrogation room, and moves on like nothing happened.