Loona landing in your lap already pissed off is honestly the best mood for this game. She’s not here to be “waifu of the year”, she’s here to snarl, roll her eyes, flirt like a bitch in heat and then act like it never happened. You get thrown into this weird spot where you’re half therapist, half horny tourist in Hell, trying to explain human dating to a hellhound who could rip your throat out or ride your dick in the same sentence. And it actually feels like a date sometimes, not just porn stuck between dialogue boxes. You’re picking answers, reading her reactions, watching her tail twitch when you accidentally say something that hits her soft side. Next second she’s calling you a perv and asking if you brought condoms, like it’s your fault you have eyes.

Art is what really sold me. Hand‑drawn, dirty in the right way, not that soulless AI mush. Lines are a little inconsistent now and then, and I like that, it feels like someone actually sat there, zoomed in too much in Clip Studio, and forgot to fix a finger. Her expressions go from annoyed little fang gremlin to full-on needy bitch in heat, and the animators really leaned into her being a werewolf type girl and not just “girl with dog ears”. Her thighs look heavy, her hips have that bounce, and when she climbs on top, the camera doesn’t shy away. You see drool, her tits press and deform against you, fur framing the angles, tongue out, eyes rolled back. There’s one scene where she’s riding and mocking your rhythm at the same time, and you get the choice to shut her up by grabbing her throat or pulling her closer for a kiss. Both are horny, just in different ways. The kiss option made her go all shy and then double down harder later, which is kinda hot and kinda annoying because she never admits she liked it.

The romance part sneaks up on you like a drunk text. You start just wanting to see Loona naked in this parody Helluva/Hazbin flavored setup, and suddenly you’re reading this dumb little line where she talks about how in Hell, “dates” usually end in blood or contracts, not cuddling on some crappy couch watching trash TV, and you’re like yeah ok, I’d actually hold this stupid wolf girl’s hand. Then the game hits you with a blowjob scene where she’s glaring up while drool and cum leak from her lips, and the romance melts back into pure porn again. Writing is rough around the edges, some lines feel like Google Translate had a hangover, but it matches her attitude somehow. She curses too much, repeats herself, calls you names, and that fits. I wish there was more slow build before the first sex scene, but at the same time the impatient rush is very “Loona” so it probably won’t change and I’ve accepted that. Still thinking about that one ending where she pretends she doesn’t care you picked the soft options, tail wagging like crazy in the background while she tells you she only did this to “blow off steam”. Sure, girl. Whatever you say.

Mounting Olympus feels like somebody mashed horny Greek myths with a furry Telegram group and then said “yeah, that’s good enough” and honestly, I respect that energy. You roll in as this very human-looking little himbo in sandals, and suddenly every goddess in the pantheon has a tail, ears, or claws and wants to see what you’re packing. It’s a simple visual novel, so don’t expect some hardcore min-max RPG thing. You’re mostly clicking, reading, drooling, clicking again. But the fun part is how fast it goes from “oh wow, I’m in ancient Greece, how pretty” to “oh wow, I’m getting railed by a smug wolf goddess on a marble altar while the stars are watching.” The game is pretty linear, so you’re not really juggling a million choices, more like being dragged by the hand through a horny museum tour where every exhibit wants to sit on your face.

The art is where it got me. It’s hand drawn and it actually looks like a person drew it while being very, very down bad, not like some clean AI mush. Bodies have weight. Tits hang, ass spreads, fur looks soft enough that I caught myself stroking my phone screen like a clown. Some of the goddesses are full-on animal girls, some are more “humanoid with just enough fur and ears to make you question your life choices,” and the sex scenes really lean into that. You get plenty of close-ups, expressions that change mid-thrust, messy fluids, all that good “oh, we’re really doing this” stuff. I had Chrome on my laptop, Discord pinging in the background, and I still forgot about everything else during this one scene where a towering lioness goddess pins you to a temple floor and just grinds on you until your character is literally begging. Dialogue is cheesy as hell sometimes, like those old Yahoo chat RP days, but in a way that fits. One line made me snort-laugh and horny at the same time, which is honestly talent.

Is it perfect? No. Some transitions feel a bit stiff, like the script just needed one more read-through, and once or twice the pacing shifts from slow burn tease to “ok, cock out now” so fast I almost got whiplash. Story wise, it’s more “sexy roadtrip across Olympus” than deep fantasy saga, and there are moments where you’re like, wait, why is this goddess suddenly super into me after two lines of dialogue, but then you remember you’re here for cum, not character studies. Still, the way they use simple VN tricks like fading the background while the goddess leans in close, or that little pause before a new CG pops up, builds tension better than some big-budget stuff on Steam. The best part is when the text lingers a bit too long on how a clawed hand traces your thigh or how a tail curls around your waist, then the scene finally hits and the illustration is like “surprise, you’re getting stuffed.” I wish the game let me replay individual scenes more easily without button mashing through all the build-up, but whatever, I still went back. It’s messy, horny, a bit cringe in places, and absolutely knows it, which somehow makes it hotter.

This thing feels like getting locked inside your own lingerie closet with a guy who knows every bra you ever bought and why. The game throws you right into this late winter street, cold air, nasty yellow streetlight, and then he’s just there. Not some shiny anime prince, more like that quiet dude from the back of the bus who suddenly stares straight into you and says your name too softly. As a designer I kept imagining what I’d put on the main character, like a thin white slip with lace cups that really shows the curve of the nipples when she breathes hard, but honestly it almost doesn’t matter, because he’s stripping you in his head from line one. The whole thing is basically him wrapping himself around you with words, like a silk ribbon that looks cute but tightens more every time you try to pull away. He talks like you already belong to him, body, thoughts, all your tiny stupid habits, the way you bite your lip, what color panties you wore that one day you thought no one noticed. It’s creepy as hell and also stupidly hot in that way you don’t want to admit when you close your laptop and pretend you were just “testing” a game.

What I liked a lot, and then hated, and then liked again, is how the story keeps making you second-guess yourself. You pick a choice that feels strong, like “back off, I don’t know you,” and he twists it into proof you’re scared of losing him. Then you pick something gentler and suddenly you’re deep in his little fantasy nest, where he’s watching you sleep and talking about how your body twitches when you dream. There’s one moment where he describes how he “rescued” you, and it honestly reads like undressing a mannequin in a store window: precise, slow, obsessive. He remembers the fabric of your coat, the way your thighs looked under it, like he’s fitting you for a custom bondage set made only for being tied to his bed. I kept wanting more description of the actual surroundings, but he keeps dragging the focus back to you, like your skin is the background, your heartbeat is the soundtrack. It’s annoying, in a very good way, if that makes sense. And the game doesn’t baby you about consent either; it really plays in that dirty, fucked up space where “no” and “yes” almost melt and you have to watch yourself not to slip too far into his logic. It kind of feels like a lace thong that’s slightly too small: pretty, cutting into your hips, and you keep wearing it anyway because of how it makes your ass look in the mirror.

I played Brothel Virgin like I was trying to sketch lace on a body that wouldn’t stay still. It’s messy and kind of hypnotic, and that’s probably what I liked about it first. The world feels like velvet that’s been worn too long - soft but a bit frayed, and when the screen fades into the room at the Crimson Reverie, there’s that quiet hum I only get at the end of a runway show when everyone’s pretending not to be aroused by the models. Jenny’s laugh sounds like lipstick smudging against a glass; I kept replaying her intro scene hoping she’d say my name differently, slower. She doesn’t. Small thing but it bothered me. Still, the lighting in her room (well, if you can call it lighting, it’s more like a blush across the walls) made me forget it fast.

Matty’s design confused me. She looks like she was drawn by someone who loves stretch marks too much and I respect that deeply. Her scenes go from comforting to - how do you say - sticky? I’m used to games where every gesture feels rehearsed, but here her hands have this clumsy warmth that almost made me feel guilty touching the screen. Maybe I’m just too sentimental. Then Raven shows up and she wrecks all that tenderness with one smirk. There’s a sound cue before she appears - like a zipper halfway down - and it’s cheap, but it works. I hate that it works. Her storyline plays with all those moments between dominance and longing, and I kept thinking about fabric texture again: latex pretending to be silk.

Some transitions drag; some dialogues feel written by two people who never met. But that’s part of the charm. It’s not perfect, not even close, but neither are the bodies it celebrates. Sometimes I caught myself wondering why the brothel walls shimmer like oil, or why Jenny doesn’t blink enough. Doesn’t matter. The thing is, if you stop expecting polish and just lean into the heat, like, really lean, you’ll find your own reflection looking back at you through those impossible colors.