You wake up broke, horny, and back in your old room that still smells a bit like teenage shame and cheap body spray, and the game just kind of grins and says, “yeah, this is where it starts.” You’re this young psychology guy who thought he had life sorted, then it all collapses and you crawl back to mom’s house. Only mom isn’t just “mom” anymore. She’s this thick, soft, dangerous kind of beautiful, the kind that makes your eyes slide over her curves against your will. She walks around the house in clothes that hug her huge tits and that insane ass in a way no actual mother should, bending over the couch while you pretend to look away and fail every single time. The camera loves her, almost too much. It lingers on the subtle stuff, the underwear line digging into her hips, the way her nipple outline threatens to show when she moves. You’re supposed to feel guilty. You don’t. Or you do, but it just makes your dick harder. It’s that kind of story.

Then there are the sisters, and yeah, the game knows exactly what it’s doing. The older one moves like a witch who realized she can control a room just by existing. Goth clothes, dark nails that look like they’d hurt when she scratches your back, eyes that tell you she thinks you’re trash but her body keeps betraying her, slower each day. There’s this moment where you “accidentally” walk in while she’s bent over her desk in fishnets, headphones in, skirt just not quite long enough, and the main character just stands there too long while you feel his thoughts going places they absolutely shouldn’t. Later, when the hypnosis angle really kicks in, watching her resist you with this mix of hatred and arousal, hips still grinding in spite of her words, that’s where the corruption hits harder than any sex scene. She spits insults while she rides your cock, then trembles when you ask her who owns that tight ass now, and her voice breaks on the answer. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. It’s both at once. The younger sister is the opposite weather: all pastel pink, soft hair, candy wrappers, plush toys, girly socks that should not look so good wrapped around your waist. She trusts you way too much. She curls against you during a movie, her small tits brushing your arm, and the game slows the moment just enough that you feel that sharp, dirty edge when your hand lingers longer than it should on her thigh. Later, with the mind control, teaching her to touch herself on command, watching her bite her lip while she obeys, that’s the point where “romance” and “corruption” almost merge into this twisted little love story that you’re not sure you’re supposed to enjoy so much.

The hypnotherapist is the real doorway drug. Mom’s friend, older but still tight where it counts, eyes that see too much and voice that rolls over you like warm honey. You sit in her office as “assistant,” pretending to take notes while she drops other women into deep trance, fingers playing with their minds and their bodies at the same time, and you’re there, hard under the desk, memorizing every word, every pattern. There’s a point when she leans down behind a patient and guides the girl’s mouth on a toy, whispering triggers, and your brain just goes click. After that, going home feels different. Sleeping bodies don’t feel safe anymore. The game leans into sleep sex in a way that’s almost too intimate. Like, you stand over your mom’s bed at night, listening to her slow breathing, watching her tits rise and fall under the thin fabric, and one tiny suggestion you planted earlier makes her legs spread a little. She mumbles your name in her sleep while you slide your hand under her panties and the guilt is there, but it’s distant, like a voice behind glass. Same with the sisters, those late-night scenes where the younger one is half-asleep, squirming and moaning softly as your fingers tease her soaked slit, or the older one clenching around your cock in her sleep, cursing you in her dreams while her body begs for more. The game doesn’t flinch from that dirty intimacy. It loves deepthroats that go too far, tears at the corner of her eyes, spit and mascara mess. It loves big tits bouncing while you fuck them, cocks sliding between them until you paint her chest white. It loves asses, god, the asses: thick ebony hips, mom’s juicy milf curves, your sister’s perfect goth bubble butt stretched around your shaft when you finally push into her tight hole and she squirts all over the sheets. Anal, vaginal, titfucks, creampies that drip out slowly while she walks around the house pretending nothing happened. Sex toys buzzing between thighs, collars and ropes appearing on the “good girl” routes that still somehow pretend to be romantic. There’s a weird tenderness under all that filth too, like when you watch your own cum slowly swell inside a belly on the pregnancy scenes, or when a character you’ve completely twisted still smiles at you like you’re her whole world. It’s wrong. It’s beautiful in a fucked way. It feels like you’re building a harem out of people who were once your family, your patients, your lovers, turning them into obedient, wet puppets and devoted partners at the same time, and the game just lets you keep going, deeper, softer, nastier, never really asking you to justify any of it. I just wish the text messages inside the game didn’t use that ugly default pop-up style, it pulls you out for a second, but then somebody drops to their knees, takes you so deep they choke, and suddenly you forget you were annoyed at all.

Guy just wants some cold air and maybe a drink, ends up trapped in the quietest, horniest little horror-comedy grocery store on earth. That’s the vibe here. You walk in, sun burning your brain, and suddenly the outside world just kind of... blinks out. The door locks, shelves feel slightly wrong, lights flicker like they’re trying to flirt, and there she is behind the counter: tiny goth clerk with a stare like she already knows exactly how weak you are. Not the cliché latex dominatrix thing, more like “sleep-deprived art major who could crush your soul with one sarcastic comment” mixed with “MILF energy in training,” if that makes sense. Big tits under a cheap t‑shirt, jeans, zero effort styling, but somehow she looks like a walking fetish ad that forgot to be subtle.

The weird part is, nothing technically “happens.” No actual sex, no naked bodies flying around, nobody jumping your dick. It’s all edging, all mind games, like the game is blueballing you on purpose and laughing. She’ll lean over the counter just a little too far, bend down to grab something so her ass lines up perfectly with your eyes, stretch like she’s in a yoga ad, then act like you’re the creep for looking. She calls you out for every tiny reaction, every stolen glance, like she’s reading your browser history in real time. At one point she casually drops a line about how “guys like you are easy to rewire” and the screen does this tiny flicker and yeah, you feel it. Not jump scare, more like you skipped a frame in your own head. You’re not sure if she’s hypnotic or just really good at gaslighting, but you start clicking through lines faster, waiting for some kind of payoff that never quite lands. It’s a kinetic novel, so no choices, no branches, you’re just strapped into her vibe. That’s kinda annoying and kinda perfect. You keep thinking “ok, next scene she’s gonna finally do something,” and instead she just mocks you, teases harder, leans in with that bored stare and explains exactly how she could make you crawl with a single word. Then nothing. Then a joke. Then she looks straight at you again and tells you you’re breathing too loud.

What got me is how the voyeurism hits without any peepholes or secret cams. You’re just there, stuck, watching her do normal clerk stuff while she very obviously watches you watching her. It flips around, like you become the thing on display. She wipes down the counter real slow, checks her phone, pops gum, types something you can’t see, then smiles in that “yeah, I just changed something in your brain” way. At one point she makes you read signs on the wall, stupid boring rules, but the text starts feeling like commands, like she’s training a dog. She never raises her voice, never goes full “kneel, worm” mode, but you still feel dominated, like your dick is on a leash you can’t see. The humor is messed up in a good way too; she’ll roast your porn tastes, call out your search terms, then switch to dead-serious for two lines and talk about control and consent like a late-night TED talk in a haunted 7‑Eleven, then immediately ask if you’re thirsty. Zero subtle transition. The art is rough but kinda perfect for it, she’s cute and a little off-model from scene to scene, which almost sells the idea your memory is being edited. There’s no big climax, no “and then you bang her” scene, it just leaves you horny, slightly confused, and lowkey worried she’s going to show up in your dreams and make you apologize for scrolling Twitter during the dialogue.

Caelus here is not the soft idiot from canon. The game basically asks, "What if the Trailblazer actually used all that cosmic bullshit to do the one thing everyone writes in fanfic but Hoyoverse pretends doesn’t exist?" and then never pulls back. Nanook is not some gloomy destruction god, he is straight up horny cosmic troll, like a drunk Archive of Our Own tag come to life. Plot is thin in a good way: every excuse to bend another Star Rail girl, and sometimes literally, into whatever shape your pervy little brain asked for the first time you saw her on a limited banner and thought “yeah I’d roll on that.”

What works weirdly well is how the game treats the whole “canon vs fanon” thing. Half the scenes feel like they were ripped straight from those long smut fics where the author clearly has a spreadsheet for everyone’s kinks. You know those 70k word monsters that start “slow burn” and then chapter 3 is already double penetration and mind control? Same energy here. One minute you are talking about Aeons and Paths, next minute Nanook just snaps reality and suddenly a proud Valkyrie type is on her knees giving this messy, noisy blowjob that would get a Twitch VOD nuked on sight. Then the scene pretends like nothing happened and jumps back to sci fi chatter. It feels wrong in a fun way. Or maybe in a stupid way. I liked it anyway.

The sex itself hits pretty much every checkbox people keep sneaking into tags: sloppy oral that really leans into the sounds, handjobs with way too much focus on fingers and precum, anal scenes where the camera insists on hanging on that first push a bit too long, and then stuff like footjobs that come out of nowhere. I mean it, you are casually abusing some broken mind controlled girl for exhibition in a public corridor, and suddenly she is using her feet like it is the most natural thing in the galaxy, with Nanook commenting in your head like a hentai Reddit thread. It is over the top and sometimes kind of dumb, but in a charming “this is clearly made by a guy who knows every Honkai subtag on Rule34.xxx” sort of way. The harem idea is full power, too. Caelus walks around like the universe itself is his brothel, and the girls, even when they resist at first, end up folded into this obedient, fucked-out collection entirely under his control. The mind control is not subtle. He rewrites them to love being toys, to show off outside with clothes barely hanging on, to beg him to use every hole in the worst moments, during missions, in front of cameras, whatever. And yet in the middle of all that excess, I got really annoyed that one small VFX on a cumshot looked like cheap soap. It bothered me the whole time and yeah, the game never fixes it.

What surprised me is how casually the game mixes sci fi nonsense and raw filth. You get “superpowers” here but not for saving worlds. Caelus uses cosmic energy to freeze time just to keep a girl’s mouth wrapped around his cock at the perfect angle, or to hold her asshole open while he decides if he wants to go back to her pussy or not. Sometimes reality bends so hard two girls exist in the same “moment” giving alternate versions of the same scene, one obedient, one still fighting, and you can flip your attention back and forth like changing tabs in Chrome. It sounds fancy, but in practice you are just clicking through dialogue while the game finds new ways to show spit, tears, ruined makeup and gaping. There is this one exhibition bit where a character is pretended to be fully in charge in front of a crowd, proper captain pose, and then in the next “layer” she is actually riding Caelus, forced to keep a perfect public speech while getting filled and emptied again and again. It is clever. Or maybe it is trash. Kind of both. Fantasy fans will notice half the lore is slightly off too. Some names are wrong, affiliations twisted, like the developer half remembered wiki pages and then said “eh, who cares, she is naked now.” Honestly, they were right.

If you ever read a “what if the Stellaron messed with their libido instead of destiny” fic and thought the author chickened out before the real filth, this is that same story but the brakes got removed, burned, and then fucked.

Imagine a horny trivia night where every question you answer wrong sends you into a different timeline and every “bonus round” is actually someone riding your dick or your face. That’s kind of how this game feels. One moment you’re this broke nobody in modern time, jerking off at home and trying not to think about how useless you are, then suddenly some crazy AI thing wants to delete the whole universe and now you’re time skipping between a medieval kingdom, a neon sci‑fi hellscape and your pretty normal city, collecting tits, trouble and trauma like Pokémon. Except these Pokémon sit on your face, call you “pet” and make you pay their rent by turning your stats and their holes into profit. The story pretends you’re the chosen one, but you always feel more like the idiot who just happened to be standing closest to the big red button labeled “world ending bullshit, press here.” Somehow that works.

What actually hooked me was how the horny stuff and the “ok I need to actually think” stuff are tangled together. You wanna rail the witch with the huge ass in the medieval castle? Great, but she wants proof you can survive the dungeon first, so off you go, bumbling through corridors, managing your health, trying not to get clapped by monster girls who look like they crawled out of someone’s very specific tags list. One of them literally had you on your knees with her foot on your chest, toes stroking your cock while she messes with your head, whispering that you’re just a toy in her dungeon. It’s half combat encounter, half humiliation fetish and you kind of forget which part you’re supposed to be “winning.” Then in the future era you’re managing a brothel like it’s a fucked up version of Football Manager. You set shifts, choose which girl teases which client, worry about corruption levels, unlock new services, suddenly realize you’ve min-maxed your way into running a time traveling prostitution empire. There’s even that awkward first time thing with one of the virgins in the school arc, where the game doesn’t shy away from it being clumsy and weird before it gets hot. She’s jerking you off badly at first, nervous as hell, then after a few scenes she’s got your cock between her tits, tongue on the tip, making that stupid ahegao face and you’re like “ok, yeah, character development.” And all the while this AI VOID thing is in the background, like a DM who keeps reminding you that the universe is dying while you’re busy getting a sloppy blowjob behind a tavern. Honestly, I came for the big tits and stayed because I was lowkey panicking about breaking the timeline while creampie-ing a princess in public in front of half the city. And yeah, that sentence makes sense if you’ve played it.