Guy gets into Tokyo Uni thinking he’ll just grind classes, maybe hit the gym a bit, maybe fail a quiz and cry in the shower later. Instead he trips straight into managing a full women’s volleyball team where every girl looks like hentai artists argued over breast size and nobody remembered what a normal uniform fits like. It’s that kind of story. Not subtle, not pretending to be. You’re the only guy swimming in a sea of big boobs, tight shorts, and fake wholesome “we’re just here to practice” energy that lasts about five minutes before the coach starts power-tripping and the girls start orbiting you like horny planets with daddy issues and midterms.

From my gender studies brain, this thing is wild. It pretends to be about training schedules and match strategy, and then half the “strategy” is choosing whether you check in on the shy bookworm in the library or the loud, sweaty ace at the gym who bends over way too slow to pick up the ball. The choices actually matter more than the game looks at first. You skip one girl’s extra workout and suddenly she’s blowing you off in the locker room scene later. Date nights feel like someone watched too many romance anime and then said, fine, but what if he just actually fucks her on the park bench instead of fading to black. The sex is very direct. Lots of oral, lots of vagina, lots of “oops I’m sitting on your lap, senpai” that ends with her moaning with her tits bouncing in those animated loops that look a bit too smooth, like the AI generator was horny but slightly confused.

What hit me the weird way is the netorare angle sneaking around the edges. The coach is not just strict. He’s possessive in this gross patriarchal “I own their bodies because I own their training” way, and the game leans into that tension. One route you’re kissing a girl under the bleachers and later you catch her in a scene that clearly changes if you weren’t nice enough to her earlier, and now she’s doing things with that coach that feel half “I want this” and half “I’m trapped”. It’s hot and fucked up at the same time. As a researcher I’m like, wow, power imbalance, consent blur, institutional abuse patterns. As a player I accidentally clicked the jealous answer and now I hate myself and still watched the whole scene on loop. There’s romance paths too, like actual soft ones, where you build trust, cuddle in the dorm, slow kissing, talk about exams, then end up with a really tender sex scene where she keeps eye contact while riding you and it feels more like emotional intimacy than porn. The game wants to be both cute boyfriend simulator and “everyone is cheating on everyone in secret” drama. Sometimes it works, sometimes it just feels like whiplash. Also there is one tiny UI sound when you confirm a choice that is so annoying I thought my Discord pinged every time and I’m still mad about it. Anyway, multiple endings mean you can be the caring partner, the possessive asshole, or the guy who thinks he’s doing the right thing while the system quietly corrupts every girl around him and you only notice when it’s way, way too late.

Ben is supposed to be the lucky survivor kid that comes back home after being gone, but honestly he feels more like a loaded gun somebody forgot on the kitchen table. He crashes on this messed up magic island, gets picked up by a witch doctor who treats “therapy” like torture mixed with sex education and combat drills, then strolls back into normal suburb house life pretending he doesn’t remember shit. Not because he actually forgot, but because that island is basically a pornified god glitch with monsters, spirit bullshit, and power that turns people crazy. So he fakes amnesia, does the polite traumatized boy act, and then the game quietly starts poking at every line you thought it would respect.

The house is where it really hits. Rachel as adoptive mom is that slow-burn headache. She’s warm, too warm, leans in too close, touches his arm too long, falls asleep on the couch in those thin shorts like she forgot he’s not twelve anymore. The game loves to push Ben into those micro moments. You’re standing behind her in the kitchen, watching her reach for something high, shirt riding up, and the UI is asking if you heal her old injury with magic or “accidentally” brush your hand where you shouldn’t. It’s not nice, it’s not healthy, it’s fucking hot. And then it slaps mental health in your face by having Ben wake up sweaty, hearing island drums in his head like a PTSD ringtone while he’s half hard from dreaming about her. Jessica is different chaos. She’s the “normal” one who isn’t normal at all, always teasing, sitting with her legs open just enough to notice, sending you those Instagram thirst traps from the next room like it’s a joke. There’s this one scene where she drags you to her room “to help with homework” and suddenly the camera angle is all about that barely covered ass while she bends over the bed. You can play innocent, you can peek, or you can use a tiny twist of mind control to make her forget how long your eyes stayed there. That little power turns every simple walk through the hallway into a corruption puzzle.

What really fucked with me is how the game keeps pretending it’s about “protecting the world” while letting you slowly rot from the inside. The witch doctor’s voice pops in sometimes, like an evil conscience, reminding you that sex can be a ritual, that feeding your urges might actually make your magic stronger. Then you get scenes with monsters that are less “fight or flight” and more “fight or fuck” and suddenly you’re not sure if you’re the hero or just a horny shaman with mommy issues. There’s a combat bit in the alley at night, where some paranormal creep tries to blackmail you after catching you watching your neighbors through the window. You can blast him with elemental magic, or twist his mind till he thinks he’s the pervert who started it and you walk away clean. That mixture of voyeurism, blackmail, and power fantasy hits different when Ben is smiling softly while lying to everyone, including himself. Zara shows up like the hot demon guidance counselor, offering “help” with his blocked memories and then sliding her hand down his chest as she describes the island tearing reality open. She wants the secrets, the rifts, the raw corruption, and she’s ready to spread her legs or someone else’s to get it. Group scenes feel like rituals gone wrong. People are moaning, bodies tangled, and in the background there’s this feeling that something is watching, that the island is feeding off all that sex. One moment you’re in a tender almost-romance with Rachel on the sofa, her head on your shoulder, the next you’re knee-deep in a magical gangbang that might literally open a portal. The story acts like it cares about Ben’s guilt and mental state, then hands you a teasing choice like “comfort her” or “possess her mind for a while” and both options feel right for different disgusting reasons. Watching him flirt between sweet, scared boy and cold, dominant bastard made me feel like I was doing character research and jacking off at the same time, which is exactly as fucked up as it sounds.

This thing starts like one of those depressing medical dramas you half-watch on Netflix while scrolling TikTok. You’re basically fucked, body falling apart, doctor gives you that calm “there’s nothing more we can do” voice. Then this syringe shows up. Not from some lab, not with fancy lore, it’s just “take this, you won’t hurt anymore.” You jab yourself, expecting blank darkness, and instead you wake up sitting on a throne with your dick hard and a whole kingdom acting like you’re their one and only god-king. Zero tutorial, zero build up, people just bow and call you “Your Majesty” while your brain is still trying to remember how to breathe.

The new world hits different. It’s not just “fantasy with boobs”, it leans right into that fever dream where you got everything you wanted but it feels slightly wrong if you think too long. The first time a fox-eared girl with a tail too fluffy to be legal crawls up to you, calls herself your slave, and presents her huge ass like it’s a royal gift, the game just lets you decide how much of a bastard you want to be. You can grab her hips, push her face into the sheets and go straight for anal like you’re checking if this world is really yours. Or, if you’re pretending to be nice, you start slow, slide into her pussy first, listen to her whimper and feel that tail wrap around your leg while she thanks you for “using” her. She’s not the only one like that either. There’s a towering monster girl with horns, thick thighs, tits that bounce a little too perfectly for something that’s supposed to be hand drawn, and she treats you like the only man alive who can actually handle her. When she grinds on your lap, cock buried inside her, claws digging into your shoulders, the game lets the scene linger. No rush, just you, her, and this ugly little thought in the back of your head that your real body is somewhere dying in a hospital bed.

The weird part is how normal the power starts to feel. One day you’re choosing which slave warms your bed, the next you’re getting ceremony talk shoved in your face. You’re king, so now you have to pick a queen. Not just a girl to fuck, but the one who will carry your heir, make your bloodline, all that “legacy” crap. The game actually lets you sit with that. There’s the obedient cat-like futa knight, cock as thick as your wrist, swearing to breed you if you want it, or bend for you if you’d rather fill her instead. She’ll kneel, pull your pants down in the middle of the throne room, take you into her mouth while the rest of the court pretends not to see, then later you can push her on the bed and test how deep her ass stretches, watch the AI-shaped sweat on her back catch the candlelight. Then there’s the gentle type with big soft tits that practically swallow your hands, the kind of girl who rides you slowly, eyes locked on yours, like she genuinely loves the man you are, not just the crown. The art has that slightly off AI look sometimes, fingers a bit too long in one frame or hair blending weird into the pillow, but somehow it helps the whole dreamlike vibe instead of breaking it. You’re always half-aware this might be fake, that the walls shimmer a bit when you push a slave against them and fuck her hard, her moans echoing a little too clean inside the castle halls. While you’re choosing who you’ll knock up, whose belly you’ll fill with your “royal seed” while she begs for more, there’s that sick feeling that any second you could open your eyes and be back with tubes in your arm. Or maybe this is the morphine talking and you already died. The game doesn’t hold your hand, it just lets you keep taking what you want. And you do. Over and over.

You’re 21, fresh out of uni, brain full of half-broken dreams and porn tabs, alone in a tiny place that looks more like a temporary save file than a real home. No job, no plan, no clue. Just a bed, a phone, and this weird feeling that whatever girl walks through your life next is basically a glitch in the code that will push you in some fucked up direction forever. This game leans hard into that idea. It isn’t trying to be “romantic” in the vanilla Netflix way. It feels more like fate dragging you by the collar through kinks you never admitted out loud, while you keep telling yourself “yeah, I can stop anytime” and then obviously you don’t. You start as this regular, kinda lost guy, but the story quietly puts you in spots where you’re kneeling, begging, turned on, confused, all of it layered, like when you’re scrolling Pornhub and suddenly your recommended list is just one big accusation.

The girls are not just checklists of tags, they’re like different corrupt routes for your soul. Tangent shows up like a walking red flag, the kind of woman you’d swear you should avoid, and then you end up refreshing Telegram waiting for her next message anyway. She treats you like a toy she already owns, plays with your ego, talks down to you while she has you licking her clean after she uses your face, or makes you hold still while she rides your cock and casually insults how pathetic you look. One moment she gives you a handjob so slow you want to scream, staring right in your eyes like she can read every dirty thought, then next scene she has a plug in your ass and your dick throbbing untouched, calling it “training” like this is some sacred destiny instead of her just having fun. Humiliation here isn’t just chat text, it’s in tiny moments, like her making you thank her for letting you cum, right after she slapped you for asking. And yeah, there’s titjobs and oral and all the classic stuff, but the way she paces it, like she’s tuning your brain, makes it feel less like porn and more like a long, slow hack of your identity.

Then the story swerves. Penny slides in from a totally different angle, all soft colors and weird comfort, like those TikToks that look wholesome until you read the comments. The tone drops into this messed up “innocent” vibe that obviously isn’t innocent, and suddenly sex toys feel more like props in a role you’re not sure you chose. You’re supposed to be the adult, but scenes twist it so you’re the one who needs control taken away, who gets told what to wear, when to touch yourself, when not to. There’s this one part where you finish in a way that should feel normal, just basic vaginal sex, thrusting, her moaning in your ear, your hands on her hips, and then the aftermath turns it sideways with one line of dialogue that makes you realize you’re not the one writing your own story at all. Natalie isn’t any softer. She just attacks your gender, your pride, your whole idea of “what kind of man I am” and pokes it until it bends. She might start with a blowjob that feels like a reward, sloppy, spit running down your shaft, eye contact that burns, then a few scenes later she’s got you dressed up, sitting pretty, dick hard and useless, while she teases you with a vibrator and jokes about how you were never much of a “real guy” anyway. The thing with this game is that every route pretends it’s just a bit of kinky fun, but then you look back and realize each girl quietly edited a part of you, like fate didn’t give you choices, only different flavors of surrender.