Fran is one of those protagonists who feels like the quiet kid you half-remember from your own class, the one who sits near the window and pretends the outside world is more interesting than whatever the teacher is writing on the board. Except in this case, the teacher is Ruby, and she’s absolutely not the kind of woman you ignore. Huge boobs barely fitting in a “professional” blouse, tight skirt that makes you think “there is no dress code here, right?”, and that fake strict look where you can see the smile hiding at the corner of her mouth. The whole thing plays like a slow burn that someone suddenly turned into a furnace with one stupid box of chocolates. Aphrodisiac chocolates, of course, because this story doesn’t even pretend to be innocent. You’re stuck in this classroom with her, the desks, the chalkboard, that fluorescent light hum that feels way too real if you ever sat through a boring lesson, except now the teacher is trying to hold herself together while her body basically screams to jump the student she’s supposed to be tutoring.

What I like here is how it doesn’t rush straight to “everything off, dick out, go”. You start with little stuff. Her leaning over just a bit too close, boobs pressing against your arm like it’s an accident. The way she keeps pulling at her blouse because it feels “hot” inside, and the more she does it, the more the top buttons lose the war. There’s a moment where she asks you to “help her focus” and puts your hand on her thigh under the desk, and she’s still trying to solve some textbook problem while your fingers are creeping up her stockings. That’s where the game shines: that awkward horny tension, where both know it’s wrong and both very clearly do not care. Then the aphrodisiac really hits and it just turns into this messy, needy teacher who starts groping you first, kissing like she’s been holding it back for months, lipstick smearing, her breathing getting all rough. Before you know it she’s pushing her big tits together around your cock, rubbing them up and down with this dazed, hungry look in her eyes, and the shy boy act from Fran cracks into straight-up lust. The first time you blow your load all over her face and glasses, she has that shocked “oh my god, my student just did that on me” expression mixed with a tiny proud smile, like she secretly wanted to wear your cum as makeup. I laughed a bit there, it feels filthy in a very specific school-memory way.

The art does most of the heavy lifting. Ruby’s a redhead with that slightly mature vibe, not some babyfaced anime blob, and seeing her go from “proper teacher” to drooling your cock in her mouth, swallowing and still begging for more, hits hard. The groping is very physical here: hands full of boob, fingers digging into her ass, her grabbing your dick through the pants first, tracing the shape, acting surprised at how “big” it feels for a student, even though yeah, of course it is, that’s how this genre works. There’s a nice little touch where she tries to keep it romantic, calling you cute, petting your hair, kissing your forehead before going back to licking the tip and teasing you until you can’t hold back and cum again. It’s sweet and trashy at the same time. I kind of wish the classroom had more little interactive stuff, like using the teacher’s chair differently or messing around with the windows, but it just stays in roughly the same spots. Also, there’s a tiny sound effect when the chalk hits the board at one point that annoyed the hell out of me and I don’t fully know why, it just felt too sharp compared to her soft moans and wet sucking noises. Anyway, the whole thing is basically: shy male student, horny teacher losing control thanks to some dumb chocolates, lots of oral, tits wrapped around your cock, and her face ending up sticky and satisfied while pretending nothing happened. It’s wrong in exactly the way it wants to be.

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 wakes up naked in a giant smoking hole in the ground, memory wiped, dick working fine, moral compass already kind of on strike. That’s your hero. No chosen one speech, no destiny, just “who the hell am I” followed by “ok but whose tits are those over there” very fast. The story follows that vibe all the way: half confused adventure, half pervert travel blog. Every time you think “ok, now it gets noble and heroic”, the game throws you some horny widow with huge tits asking for “help” while her husband is literally in the next room snoring like a pig.

The world is this weird fantasy mix that acts all mysterious and serious for like two lines, then you’re balls deep in someone you probably shouldn’t even be making eye contact with. One moment you’re talking with some high elf priestess about fate and the strange crater you crawled out of, next thing she’s on her knees with mascara running, mumbling prayers around your cock. And the game doesn’t even pretend to be shy: anal, foot stuff, toys, cosplay outfits that look like they were ordered from the cheapest part of AliExpress, blackmail scenes where you’re thinking “he really went there, ok.” There is voyeur stuff out of nowhere too. You “accidentally” see people fucking, then later you can decide if you just keep watching, join, or pretend to be a respectable person and leave. Guess which option is clearly not the point.

Whole dating sim layer sits on top of it like one of those shitty fancy cakes. You do dialogues, give gifts, pick “romantic” answers, then ten minutes later you are choking the same girl with your hand while she’s in a maid cosplay and pretending she doesn’t like it. Romance and corruption sit right next to each other and keep changing places. One route has this sweet, shy girl who looks like she should be in soft romance stuff, and your choices slowly push her from blushing kisses and handjobs to getting filmed while you fuck her asleep, with a gagged “boyfriend” watching helpless from the corner. And he deserves it, but also damn. The game acts like “oh this is a tender moment” while you’re literally using a vibrator on her in front of him. I laughed, not sure that was the correct reaction.

Family stuff is there too, tiptoeing on that “we are not saying it directly but everyone knows what is going on” line. You meet a “landlady”, a “aunt”, a “older sister type” with the biggest ass the engine can handle. They all have that slightly too familiar energy, like “we’re related enough that this should be a problem, but not enough that the dev wants to get banned.” Some routes let you go full NTR bastard: you slowly steal them from the guys around them, or just fuck them behind their backs while the poor idiots talk about “trust” and “true love” in the next tavern. There is one very specific scene where you get a girl drunk, let her fall asleep next to you, then decide if you just watch her masturbate in her sleep, or you go further and, yeah, take what you want. Game barely pretends this is a moral choice. It knows exactly what you clicked.

What I like and hate at same time is how the protagonist can act almost nice in dialogue, asking about feelings, talking about the mystery of the crater, then two clicks later you’re using a collar and leash on a milf that earlier tried to mother you. One path lets you keep her “pure”, another lets you train her into cock add*cted slave who will take anal in public just because you snap your fingers. The exhibition stuff goes too hard sometimes, like you’re fucking on a balcony while random guards pretend they don’t see, or you shove a dildo into a girl before sending her to some serious story meeting, and the game keeps cutting to her trying to keep a straight face while you hold the remote. World saving, but with remote control butt plug, sure. The plot about who you are and why that crater exists keeps popping up between all of this, like the dev suddenly remembered there was supposed to be a story, then gets distracted again by a pair of big tits bouncing in 3D. And I am not complaining. Well, I am, about one thing: the main menu music is annoying as hell and I can’t stop humming it while watching yet another “accidental” cheating route blow up a happy couple from inside. Literally from inside.

Your phone is the real main character here. Not the guy you play, not the girls with the soft smiles and way-too-tight jeans, but that stupid little screen that never stops buzzing at the wrong time. You start with this cozy, slightly boring relationship, the kind where you already know how she takes her coffee and what porn tabs you keep half-hidden. It feels safe. Almost too safe. Then the messages start getting weird. Notifications pop up that are just off enough to make your stomach sink. A heart emoji from someone you barely remember. A photo cropped just a little too carefully. A chat thread with way too many deleted messages. You are not supposed to see some of this, and the game knows you want to.

The whole thing plays out like you are stuck between two chats at once, trying not to fuck everything up while also kind of wanting to. You switch between talking sweet to your girlfriend and flirting with someone you probably should not even be typing “hey” to. One second you are apologizing for being late to dinner, next second you are staring at a close-up of a huge ass pressed up against a mirror, trying to decide if you send a horny reply or leave it on read and pretend it never happened. The game likes to tease you with those little choices. Do you scroll further down the gallery and risk seeing something that will ruin your night, or put the phone away like a good boy and pretend the problem is not there. Obviously you scroll.

The cheating stuff is not just “haha, sex with someone else”, it is more like slow poison. Your guy reads a message, hesitates, lies about it in the next scene, and that small lie echoes later when she looks at you just a bit too long and says “you alright?” while her own phone buzzes face down on the table. There are AI-style CGs of her bent over the couch with her hair messy and her ass taking up half the screen, but the more you stare the more you keep thinking “who took this angle” and it stops feeling safe at all. One scene really hit: you are on voice call with your girl, she is telling you about her day, and in a side chat some other woman sends a bathroom mirror nude, wet skin and fat ass barely covered, with a tiny caption like “you thinking of me?” and the game just lets both conversations sit there at the same time, forcing you to juggle guilt and lust like some horny clown.

Sometimes the romance hits in a messed up way. There is this quiet late-night text where she admits she is scared of losing you, right after you spent five minutes scrolling a chat that makes it pretty obvious someone already had their hands on her. Or maybe they did not. The game is a liar and it enjoys that. You can be gentle with her, call her cute pet names, send selfies of your chest, and it almost feels wholesome… until you notice a tiny reflection in a glass door in one CG that looks like another guy’s shoulder in the background. Could be nothing. Could be everything. The tension is less “will I get laid” and more “who is fucking who behind whose back while everybody smiles and says goodnight”. And the wild part is, you keep pulling the phone back up anyway, swiping through chats like a junkie, hoping the next message hurts a little less or a lot more. Hard to tell which one you actually want.