You wake up in this therapy center with your brain feeling like someone hit “delete” on half your save files, and the person in charge of fixing you is a woman who definitely should not be allowed to call what she does “therapy”. Miss Lust looks at your trauma like it’s a puzzle she’s horny to solve, and every “session” is basically her asking “what if we push you just a bit further?” then shoving you off the cliff instead. One moment she’s talking gently about memory blocks, the next she’s got you on your knees, collar around your neck, making you shuffle a deck of cards that decides if you’re going to get your ass stretched, your clothes taken away, or your dignity ripped apart in front of people who should not be watching but totally are. The whole card thing sounds simple until you realize it’s not about winning, it’s about how badly you’re willing to lose. You draw a card, suddenly you owe her worship, or your body gets put on display to some stranger behind a glass wall, or she turns your “normal” male protagonist into this confused pretty sissy who starts to like the high heels way too fast. And you tell yourself “this is fucked up, I’m being corrupted”, while at the same time moving the mouse to pick the filthier option because curiosity is a worse dom than Miss Lust.

The game loves to tease that maybe there is romance, maybe she actually cares, then five minutes later she’s auctioning you off for a “special session” with a futa client who treats your ass like it’s public property while Miss Lust just watches, taking notes like it’s a science project. There is this one scene where you stand naked in a corridor with nothing but a card in your hand, and the rule is that you can’t cover yourself at all while strangers pass by and comment, and one woman stops just to step on your cock with her heel, then smiles like she is tipping a waiter. Then later, Miss Lust offers you a “soft” option with cuddles and vaginal sex that almost feels tender, and the game has the nerve to make that feel more humiliating than the gangbang because suddenly you care what she thinks. There are branching paths that turn you into her obedient slave, her little toy prostituted to other patients, the secret lover she hides behind professional talk, or the broken thing that gets off on being called pathetic while licking her feet. The voyeur stuff gets wild too, like that card that forces you to watch another patient being transformed, stripped, and used by two women and one guy while you jerk under the table, trying not to get caught, and if you fail the check she drags you out by the hair and makes you finish in front of them. It is messy, horny, occasionally weirdly sweet, and then it slaps you with NTR flavor just when you start to feel safe. Honestly I wish there was one path where you just say “nope” and go to normal therapy, but also, I’d never click it.

High School Hobby Harlots feels like someone mashed together a horny comic, an old-school hentai dating sim and a messy sandbox life sim, then laughed and said “good enough” and hit upload. You play Amara, this spoiled rich troublemaker dumped into a “reform school” that is about as holy as a Pornhub comment section. The whole vibe is super tongue in cheek: nuns with dirty thoughts, students who look like they’re one bad decision away from starting an OnlyFans, and teachers that definitely should not be left alone with anyone. The art is 2D comic panels, kind of fanzine style, sometimes clean, sometimes rough, but it fits the “I’m not supposed to be doing this” mood perfectly. It feels like reading a dirty webcomic where you keep clicking for the next punchline and suddenly you’re knee deep in anal, voyeurism, and girls showing way too much skin in the chapel.

The fun part for me was how the game quietly turns you into a little sex manager. You’re not just clicking through scenes. You’re juggling stats like Fun, Energy, Allure, Sexperience and Money, and they actually matter. You wanna drag a classmate into your corruption spiral, you better have enough Allure and the right timing, because some events only trigger when Amara is in a certain mood or you pushed a girl just far enough. One moment I was in the dorm teasing a shy girl with a toy, just casual masturbation training, and a bit later she’s sucking dick on camera for Amara’s iFap channel like it’s no big deal. The pacing of that fall is nice and dirty. Corruption here isn’t just a label. You can feel it when a girl that refused to flash her tits earlier suddenly agrees to public exhibition in the showers while other students “pretend” they’re not watching. The camming storyline is hilarious and sleazy at the same time: you push them into doing oral, playing with themselves, trying anal plugs on stream, and the game keeps throwing in those quips that make you grin like an idiot. Then you level them up even more and suddenly escorting on iFuq is on the table, with group sex events and weird little interracial scenes that pop up like “oh ok, we’re doing this now.” Some of the sandbox routine gets a bit grindy, like you’re repeating similar actions hoping for the next random sexy event, and sometimes the timing feels like Ren’Py rolled a nat 1 on your libido. But then you get a new event with Amara taking two girls to a “study session” that somehow turns into lesbian foreplay, a spanking lesson and finally everyone stuffed and covered, and you kinda forgive the jank. It’s messy, it’s horny, it’s funny in a dumb way, and the game doesn’t pretend to be classy. It just hands you a reform school full of difficult girls and asks, very politely, how filthy you feel like making them today.

This Scooby-Doo parody hits different when you realize they actually made Fred watch from the corner. The gang's got this new guy who's basically speedrunning corruption routes faster than you can say "jinkies," and honestly? The outfits are what got me first - Velma's sweater gets progressively tighter each scene until it's basically painted on, while Daphne's whole wardrobe screams "I'm definitely not the innocent one anymore." But then the writing kicks in and suddenly you're watching Fred get absolutely demolished emotionally while this newcomer just... takes over everything. The animation style works surprisingly well for what they're going for, though I kept getting distracted by how Velma's glasses somehow stay perfectly positioned during the most ridiculous situations. Like, physics much?

The sandbox elements let you corrupt at your own pace, which sounds great until you realize there's actually optimal paths and you've been doing everything wrong for hours. Mystery-solving takes a backseat to mystery-creating, if you catch my drift. Daphne's scenes escalate way faster than Velma's, but that might just be because redheads are apparently easier targets in this universe. The group dynamics get wild when everyone's involved - there's this one sequence where the van is literally rocking and Fred's just standing outside looking confused. Poor guy never saw it coming. The dialogue tries too hard to be funny sometimes, throwing in "zoinks" every other sentence like we forgot what show this is parodying. But when the corruption really kicks in and the girls start suggesting their own "investigations," the writing actually gets pretty clever about subverting expectations.

What really sells it though is how they handle the trainer aspects - you're not just clicking through scenes, you're actively choosing who gets corrupted how and watching the ripple effects. The netorare elements aren't subtle at all, which honestly works better than trying to be coy about it. Fred's reactions range from oblivious to devastated, and watching that progression while Velma discovers she likes being watched is genuinely hot. Just don't expect any mystery-solving by the end.

The heat sits on that tiny apartment like a wet towel you can’t shake off. It sticks to skin, to clothes, to Rei’s thin tank top when she bends over the sink, pretending she doesn’t feel your eyes on her ass. She’s supposed to be “aunt,” or “family friend,” or whatever label makes it less fucked up that every time she passes in the hallway your cock twitches. She moves slow, tired housewife kind of slow, but every curve on her body screams she knows exactly what she’s doing. Soft big tits that fight against cheap fabric, hips that fill the doorway, that slightly sad smile of a woman who’s been lonely way too long and pretends she’s okay with it. Except she isn’t. Not really.

Then the old man shows up. Claims to be your grandfather. Smells like cigarettes and sweat and something rotten. Sets his suitcase down like he just decided this is his house now. You want to laugh, but Rei’s face drains of color and Sora’s eyes narrow like a cat that spots a mouse. She’s the daughter, sharp tongue and short shorts, always with a game console in hand, pretending she doesn’t notice how her mom starts flinching whenever the old bastard “accidentally” brushes against her. You watch from the crack in your door as he starts touching Rei longer than needed, his wrinkled fingers on her waist, on her ass, talking about “helping with stress.” At first she stiffens, then she forces a smile, then she starts making excuses to be alone with him. For “adult talk.” You know that tone. Corruption doesn’t happen in one big step; it happens cup of tea by cup of tea, “thank you” by “it’s fine, just this once.”

The fucked up part is how the game lets you poke at this situation, not like a hero, but like a horny parasite. You’re not stopping anything. You’re deciding how much you want to see. You can sneak to the bathroom door and hear Rei choking on something that is not a cough. The wet noise of forced oral turning into desperate, hungry sucking, where her gagging shifts into little muffled moans she would never admit are real. Or you stay “loyal” and still end up spying through keyholes while she rides that old bastard, her big ass bouncing on his lap, tears in her eyes but her pussy creaming around him like it belongs there. Sometimes she resists and then folds, sometimes she looks like she’s almost enjoying the rough grip on her hair, the way he talks to her like property. Sometimes you even get pulled in, not as savior but as another man claiming a piece of her, sliding into her raw and leaving your cum deep inside, while her womb already full of someone else’s seed. Interracial mix of bodies and age and power, all wrapped in that cramped apartment where walls are thin and secrets thinner.

Sora’s the little devil in the corner, seeing everything, pretending she doesn’t care. She catches you peeking once, smirks, and the next time she “borrows” the old man’s wallet she demands he plays along. Trading games is not about consoles anymore. She comes back to your room with flushed cheeks and messed hair, chewing on gum that wasn’t hers before, and throws a wrapped bill on your bed like a joke. She teases you, spreads her legs just a bit too far when she sits on your chair, talks about how “grandpa” is disgusting while her eyes sparkle with something way darker. If you push, she might open those legs more, might ask what you’d pay for a peek, or for a taste, or for the chance to paint her face white while her mom moans in the next room on someone else’s cock. This whole summer turns into a slow, sweaty spiral where ownership is just a word men use when they shove their dick somewhere and leave it dripping. Who gets Rei in the end, who marks her womb, who Sora decides to toy with, who really controls the house… that all comes down to the tiny choices you click while your hand is already around your shaft, trying to decide if you want to feel guilty or just enjoy watching everything good rot from inside.