You wake up on this ugly rust bucket of a fishing ship, wearing an orange sweater that keeps trying to crawl up over your borrowed tits, and everyone is calling you Vilma like that is totally normal. You know that feeling when you're lying to every single person in the room and your dick is half hard at the same time? Yeah, that feeling is basically the whole game. The dev clearly loves Halloween junk and classic mystery cartoons, but everything is twisted just enough that it looks like the cheap porn parody DVD you find in the wrong section of the store. Scrooby keeps shivering, Saggy looks like he smells like wet dog and weed, and you are the “smart girl” with the big ass who is supposed to solve a murder in five minutes or get blown the fuck up by some letter bomb. And of course the real Vilma is naked and tied up in a storage room, annoyed, horny, and way too clever for her own good.

The fun part is how the timer hangs over your head while you are trying to decide if you should drag another clue out of Nymphne with actual logic or just bend her over a crate and fuck her until she starts talking. I wasted two full runs trying to see how much I could get away with before the bomb went off, just speedrunning bad decisions. Took me a bit to realize the “deduction table” is not just flavor text. You slap evidence on it like a crazy wall, except instead of red string you have your cock and some pretty mean dialog options. One run I focused only on interrogations, squeezed Ford until he spilled half the plot, solved the murder like some nerd god, and then realized I had barely touched Vilma in the hold. Next run I did the opposite: ignored half the questions, kept going back downstairs, playing good cop / very bad cop with her. Her reaction when you pretend to be her, while she is tied up and watching you strip off “her” sweater, is nasty in the best way. Also, the jiggle in some of the animated loops is honestly stupid good, then on the next scene a hand looks like it was drawn by someone using a mousepad in a bus. It made me laugh, then still made me horny, which is kind of impressive and also annoying.

What really sold me is how the voyeur stuff is baked into the whole structure. You’re pretending to be the smartest girl on the ship while the real one is naked furniture in the next room, and the game keeps tempting you to leave her there just a little longer so you can wander around and peek at everybody’s secrets. I kept pausing on the same detail: her glasses. When you put them on and walk into an interrogation, people suddenly trust you, but you know they actually belong to the girl who is currently gagged and getting her ass toyed with below deck. The contrast between playing the clever detective and then going downstairs to use her like a cum-dump clue dispenser is filthy in a way screenshots don’t show. Some of the humor hits hard too, like when Saggy tries to tell you he “respects women” while staring at your chest, or when Scrooby freaks out at the idea of anal like that is somehow worse than the murder. I had one run where I solved the case perfectly, unlocked a fancy sex scene with Nymphne, then realized I had missed a tiny conditional flag in the storage room so the Vilma finale variant didn’t trigger and I actually growled at my monitor. Still going back to clean up those last few CGs like a pervert completionist.

Empire of Heroes looks like somebody smashed Pornhub, a Marvel fanfic subreddit and a horny DeviantArt gallery into one long fever dream, then forgot to hire an editor. You start as this dude who is technically a “hero,” but honestly he feels more like a guy who spends half his time saving the city and the other half trying not to stare at boobs that look like they could file for citizenship on their own. The world is packed with powered people, but almost everyone you actually talk to either wants to punch you, ride you, or both in some weird order. One second you’re in a rooftop fight where your power is going off like a bugged-out Discord notification, next second you’re flirting with a girl whose costume has less fabric than my old gym socks. The mood keeps jumping from dramatic comic-book speech to “fuck me on this couch before the villain shows up,” which sounds bad, but somehow it kind of works, like watching The Boys on mute with Pornhub audio in the background.

The big charm is how dirty and stupidly playful it gets without pretending to be classy. There’s this scene where you rescue a heroine who’s supposed to be this serious, veteran type, and ten lines later she’s teasing you about how “stress relief” is part of a hero’s duty while she grinds on your lap in a torn suit. The camera is obsessed with asses, not gonna lie. Every time a woman turns around the angle zooms like it was made by a guy who grew up pausing Netflix to stare. Some choices matter too: if you act like a cocky bastard, some girls actually like it and push back, if you try to be “good guy” hero, you still end up with your face between huge tits half the time. Fights are there mostly to justify why everyone is half naked afterward, covered in dust and barely holding their tops together. It’s less “tactical combat” and more “foreplay with punching.” At one point I paused my Spotify because the sex scene was actually hotter than the porn I had open in another tab, which is a weird moment of self awareness.

What kills me is how the story pretends to be super serious with mystery and conspiracies, then throws in a joke about hentai or some meme-tier line like “this is not even my final form” during a boss fight, then five minutes later you’re balls deep in a villain girl with glowing eyes and a laugh that should not be turning me on. The humor is very internet: horny, dumb, sometimes cringe, occasionally perfect. They drop little in-jokes about OnlyFans, Twitter cancel mobs, even some cheap shot about people who still use Facebook, and all of that is happening while your character is trying not to explode in a woman with thighs like a Marvel budget. Not everything hits; some scenes drag, there are times where two girls argue like a bad CW show and you just want them to shut up and start making out already. The pacing is a mess, like eating a full pizza and then suddenly someone throws a cake at your face, but when the game leans fully into “superhero soap opera where everyone is horny and slightly unhinged,” it kind of nails exactly that trashy, late-night energy that makes you think “ok, one more scene” and then you realize your right hand hurts more than your mouse.

The whole thing feels like someone took a cozy little mobile dating sim, then just kept twisting the knife until it turned into this fucked up house of mirrors where every room smells like sex and cheap perfume. You start as this regular dude, not some muscle god, just a guy trying to keep his home and his girls safe, and the world laughs in your face. The bully shows up with his huge smug grin and his even bigger cock and suddenly everyone around you starts looking at him like he is the main character in your own home. It is slow, too, not some instant flip. One moment it is playful teasing, a little flirting in the kitchen, a hand resting too long. Next moment you hear muffled moans from behind a half closed door and you know it is not for you. The sound design is sneaky like that, those wet little gasps and the rhythmic slaps you can almost feel in your teeth. I had Spotify playing at first, then I turned it off because I wanted to hear every dirty sound. I regretted that, then I didn’t, then I did again.

The futa and monster girls are like extra flavor that shows up when you already feel too full and still you keep eating. There is this futa scene where she is supposed to be “just helping him out” and five clicks later she is stretching some girl open, balls deep, while the guy you play as stands there with his small, useless hard-on, watching. That mix of romance and corruption hits weird, because the girls do not suddenly become soulless porn bots. They blush, they hesitate, they still talk sweet to you after they just took a black cock in every hole and got filled like a cheap toy. One of my favorite messed up moments was on the couch, phone in hand, scroll, scroll, scroll, then you tap a choice that looks harmless and it ends with her on her knees in front of a stranger, giving a messy oral while you hear the vibrator buzzing inside her through the speakers. There is a lot of teasing, like scenes where she sends you a “cute” selfie, and in the background you can just barely see a man’s hand on her big ass, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. I zoomed in, like an idiot, on my phone. Felt my stomach drop in that good bad way.

The AI CG look is a bit scuffed sometimes, you can see weird fingers if you stare too hard, and one time a footjob scene had toes that looked like they were trying to escape to another dimension, and that annoyed me more than it should. But when the corruption ramps up, the art starts to make sense in a nasty way. Interracial and blacked content is everywhere, even when it is not main focus. The big black cocks become like a visual curse that follows you from scene to scene, your screen filled with them while your own character gets pushed aside emotionally and sexually. There is anal, vaginal, messy creampies dripping down big tits and big asses, and the game just treats it as normal domestic life now. Your bed becomes a set, your living room a studio, your home a porn hub long before anyone calls it that. The romance is not gone though, that is the cruel part. She still says she loves you while she rides another guy raw, while you stand at the door, a silent cuckold, male protagonist, tapping the screen like it will change something. It never does. And you still keep playing, one more choice, one more scene, telling yourself you hate it with one hand while the other hand is busy saying something very different.

Couples: Lustbound drops you into Katy and John’s bedroom at that weird point where everything looks fine on Instagram, but in the dark they’re just kind of… touching each other out of habit. They’re young, married, they still care, but the kisses feel a bit too polite and John keeps grabbing his phone after sex. The game leans hard into that slow, itchy tension. Katy starts catching herself staring a bit too long at other guys, especially when one of John’s friends cracks a dirty joke and she laughs a little too hard. John notices. Or maybe he pretends not to, depending on what you make him do. It’s not about instant filth from the first click. It’s more like watching a flame catch on something that should not burn and thinking, “Eh, it’s fine” until the curtains are already smoking.

The visual novel structure gives you both sides of the mess. One moment you are John, pretending you’re totally cool with Katy going out in that tight dress that shows way too much thigh while you’re “busy with work.” Next moment you’re Katy, drunk on the attention when some guy’s hands stay on her waist a bit longer during a dance, feeling his fingers press her ass in the crowd where everyone can see and kind of hoping someone is actually watching. There are scenes where you’re basically voyeuring your own marriage. Like when John sits in the car, screen lit up with a text asking “You okay with this?” while he imagines what’s happening inside the bar: Katy laughing, a big dark hand on her knee, her lips brushing someone’s ear when she whispers. The game loves that sick mixing of jealousy, arousal, and guilt that sits in the belly. It lets you push them toward swinging nights, sneaky handjobs under tables, hotel room oral that starts as “just trying something new” and slides into “there is another guy finishing in your wife and you are not stopping it.” Or you pull them back, but not really. Even the “safer” choices still feel loaded. A simple shower together can be cruel when Katy teases, strokes John just enough to get him hard, then walks out, wrapped in a towel, annoyed but horny, checking her messages.

What I liked a lot is how the corruption doesn’t just turn Katy into some brainless sex doll. She remembers what she’s doing. When she spreads her legs for a guy who is not her husband and lets him slide inside bare, knowing creampie will leave a sticky reminder, she has that tiny moment of “I am a terrible person” right under the moan. John too is messed up in his own way. Sometimes he stares from the sidelines, watching a live porn show that involves the woman he promised to protect, and his dick is rock hard while his heart punches his ribs. It feels wrong and hot and pathetic at the same time. There are scenes where he joins in, hands roaming, groping her in front of another man like he is trying to mark territory, only to end up sharing her mouth, her pussy, everything. And then there are the quiet shots: Katy alone on the balcony in panties, knowing the neighbor across can see her, fingers inside herself while she replays what happened that night. Or John “accidentally” opening a video he shouldn’t have, seeing her knees on a hotel carpet, lips wrapped around someone else’s cock, and he just sits there, watching the whole thing in silence, breathing heavy. The game is at its dirtiest when it hugs that line between love and pure selfish lust, and doesn’t say which side is winning. It just lets you poke, twist, and watch them both fall apart in a way that feels way too real.