Red arriving to this tiny Japanese village feels a bit like a runway model getting dropped in the mud. He comes from the city, full of porn brain and zero manners, and suddenly he is stuck between rice fields, bugs, and this old wooden house that smells like tatami and miso. As a fashion designer, my eyes go first to fabric and body lines, and Yuko, the grandmother, is basically a walking lingerie sketch that got trapped in an apron. She has this soft, heavy chest that keeps pulling the cloth away from her body, like the shirt is begging to open. Big hips under loose cotton, no bra at home, of course. Everything is too thin or too tight in the wrong place. If you ever tried a see-through yukata after shower and forgot panties, you know the vibe. The game leans hard into that. There is this scene where Red is helping her hang laundry outside, sun hitting the damp fabric, and you see her bra and panties dripping on the line. The camera lingers way too long on the granny panties, but they hug that ass with a kind of accidental sex appeal. I paused there to think how I would redesign them in black lace with a higher cut, but then Red starts staring at the outline of her nipples through the wet blouse and, yeah, focus gone.

What I like is how slow the corruption feels at first. Red pretends to help in the fields, gets sweaty, comes back inside, and just sits there with his legs wide, cock pressing his shorts, watching her bend over the low table. It is not subtle. You can see his erection shape, and the game does not shy away from that. When he "accidentally" brushes against her tits in that tight little kitchen, you feel that tension where she kind of freezes. Yuko starts as this quiet, polite, almost plain woman who hides everything inside baggy clothes, but once he starts teasing, she becomes a lingerie project that is slowly getting cut open. There is a point where he pulls her close while Hiroshi, the old farmer, is just outside, and his hand slides inside her top. The art really loves breasts, every curve, every fold where fabric presses into soft skin. He squeezes them while she tries to whisper "stop" and her body is clearly not stopping anything. Later, when he pushes his cock between her lips for the first time, it is messy, wet, and honestly more rough than romantic, and her mascara slightly smudged look hits this strange runway-afterparty fantasy. I hated one tiny thing though: his shoes. Ugly as hell and I could not stop seeing them in every standing scene, like why give so much detail to veins on the dick but those plastic-looking sneakers stay. Anyway, once the voyeur stuff kicks in, with Red fucking her from behind in cramped rooms while grandfather shuffles around nearby, the whole farm turns into this hidden catwalk of sin, where the only outfits that matter are half-open yukata, bunched-up skirts, and the marks his fingers leave on her thighs after he spreads them wide and buries himself inside her, again and again, like he owns both her body and her wardrobe.

Government fantasy but everyone’s horny and badly behaved, that’s basically the vibe here. You’re this regular dude in a fucked up city where the “Order” controls everything, and instead of joining the resistance like some heroic idiot, you get your hands on a mind control tech and go, “yeah, I’m gonna use this to fuck people.” And the game fully leans into that. Every time you “liberate” someone, it’s not really freedom, you just swap one kind of control for another and wrap it in sex. One moment you’re pretending to care about your neighbor’s safety, next moment you’ve got her on her knees in the kitchen, mascara running, while her husband is in the next room watching state propaganda and you’re trying not to laugh. There’s a lot of that quiet, wrong tension. You click a choice and you know it’s scummy, but the game is winking at you like: yeah, go on, do it anyway.

The cast hits pretty much every guilty pleasure. You got the strict older women from the “moral committees” that end up on their backs, legs shaking, calling you sir like they’re the ones getting judged. There’s a high ranking inspector you can slowly break, making him call you “master” while you shove him into messy gay scenes he’d arrest people for in public. One run I had him on his knees in his own office, sucking me off while his big monitor still showed official reports and I swear that contrast made it ten times hotter. Another night, I had a family under my thumb, the mom pretending to resist while her son watches from the doorway with that dazed, corrupted look, and the whole thing spirals into messy incest corruption that just keeps escalating. Group scenes get wild fast: you start with a “discreet meeting” and end with a row of naked bodies, asses up, everyone glazed over, and you walking between them deciding who gets a handjob, who gets anal, who has to lick who clean. The voyeur parts hit nice too, like spying with cameras you installed yourself, watching someone finger themselves, then walking in and making them finish the job with your cock. It’s dirty, it’s mean, and sometimes the pacing drags a little in the non-sex bits, but the payoff when the next scene finally snaps back into some fresh humiliation or control kink makes it worth grinding through. It’s less “save the city” and more “own the city’s holes, minds, and pride, in that order,” and the game does not pretend otherwise.

This one feels like somebody smashed a cheesy slasher flick, a horny Halloween house party and a dirty family drama into one long, filthy night, then said “yeah ok, that’s enough plot, now fuck.” You’re in the male MC’s skin, walking around this spooky cabin vibe where Jason Voorhees is kind of there, kind of a joke, kind of actually fucked up and scary sometimes, and in between all that you’re just getting dragged into sex with women who absolutely should not be doing any of this with you. It’s that mix of horror parody and “oh shit this is actually kinda hot” that makes you forget you were supposed to be scared of the mask guy and suddenly you’re just staring at a huge pair of tits bouncing in animated loops.

The whole thing leans hard into curvy bodies. Not that soft “thicc” people put on Twitter and then it’s just a skinny model. I mean real heavy tits, big asses that fill the screen, bellies that jiggle a bit when they ride you. There’s a MILF with a body like she won every thick mom contest on the planet, a proper BBW who makes even simple stuff like a handjob feel like she’s swallowing you with her palms, and some younger women with the same “nobody in this family skipped dessert” genetics. You know that look when you open the game and instantly think “ok, this artist is an ass guy”? Yeah. That. The 3D style is a bit rough at times, faces look weird from some angles, but then you see the close up shot during a titfuck and you just forget to complain. Until you notice the one lamp in the background clipping through the wall and it pisses you off for like five seconds and then you lose it again when she starts spitting on your cock.

Sex scenes go from soft to absolutely filthy pretty fast. A little teasing, some clumsy flirting, and then bam, your dick is in someone’s mouth while a horror movie mask lies on the floor in the corner of the frame like it’s watching. There’s vaginal, anal, sloppy oral, classic “press her tits together and fuck the cleavage”, and the animations love staying on the angle where you really see how big her ass is smacking on your thighs. Interracial stuff too, not in some weird fetish-y text, just visually there, like “yeah he’s black, she’s white, now watch her get railed on the couch while something rattles outside the window.” The cheating angle comes in when you realize half of these women are absolutely not single, but nobody gives a shit because “oh no, it’s Halloween, we might die, better ride your cock for comfort.” And the incest thing… yeah, that’s in there, pretty shameless. It’s the usual “we’re way too close for this to be normal” setup, and if you’ve played more than two furry or human VN on itch.io or F95 you already know exactly how that energy feels. What stuck with me after was not Jason, not the horror jump scare, but that weird mix of laughing at the parody and then suddenly being way too turned on when a thick aunt, or maybe she was a step something, I kinda forgot, pushes you onto the bed and says she needs a treat. It’s messy and horny and a bit trashy, in that way that makes you open it in Chrome, swear you’re just gonna click through to see the joke reference to Friday the 13th, and then ten minutes later you’re watching cum drip between gigantic animated boobs thinking “ok, I get what this game really wanted from me.”

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.