Pale Carnations feels like someone took a very proper medical student, stripped out his sense of safety, then tossed him face first into the kind of club you normally only see mentioned in Telegram chats that vanish after a week. You start as this uptight guy who really believes he’s still on a straight path, and then your old friend drags you into the Carnation Club, which is basically a brothel pretending to be an art space. The game doesn’t even try to warm you up slowly. One minute you’re talking about exams, the next you’re standing in a “performance hall” where three women are being judged like twisted idols for how well they take pain, shame and a whole lot of cum. The first night, when you have to guide one of the girls through a show, pushed to choose between making it romantic, cruel, or just filthy efficient, that’s where it clicked for me. This isn’t just porn with clicks. It’s about how far you’re willing to go when everyone keeps telling you it’s normal to choke a girl on stage while rich assholes clap in the dark.

The sound in this thing really surprised me. Not “triple A” surprised, more like “why does this muffled moan in the background feel more real than the entire Spotify sexy playlist I’ve got”. There’s this scene where you’re backstage with an older woman who clearly knows the club better than you ever will. She presses your hand to her ass while she quietly instructs you how to handle your “performer”, her voice soft but absolutely in control, and in the distance you hear the audience roar when someone gets spanked hard enough to cry. The track underneath is this slow, slightly dirty lounge loop, a bit off tempo, almost cheap, but it fits so well that I ended up replaying that scene just to hear the way her breathing synced with the bass line. Then later the game swaps to this almost tender piano piece while you’re literally arranging who gets groped on stage and who gets humiliated in private. I liked that a lot. Or maybe I didn’t. It made it harder to pretend this is just mindless fap material when the music keeps whispering “you’re kind of a bastard for choosing the harsher option, you know?” and then rewards you with the wettest, messiest creampie CG three clicks later. The game loves that contrast. Romance on the surface, anal and public bukkake in the back room, ahegao faces in full view while the MC still tells himself he’s a good guy. It’s not subtle, and it’s not trying to be. There’s cheating, masturbation breaks that feel a bit too honest, toys pulled out at the worst possible time, and a lot of rich people treating human bodies like decoration. I wish the little clicking sound on some menu wasn’t so loud, actually, it annoyed me from the start and I kept meaning to change it, then got distracted every single time some milf in heels called me “doctor” and bent over a piece of BDSM furniture like it was a confession booth. Anyway, the club keeps going, the performances get rougher, and your choices keep twisting the knife, mostly in you.

Kohei comes back to his old town for something boring like university, and instead walks straight into the kind of summer that fucks with your head for years after. It looks harmless at first. Childhood streets, cicadas screaming, cheap fans pushed to their limit, that older girl next door who used to ruffle his hair and laugh too loud. Misaki feels like she should be safe territory, familiar, almost family, this cozy fantasy of “onee-san who waited for you”. The game knows that expectation and plays with it in a way that’s honestly pretty mean. She’s still teasing, still bright on the surface, but her eyes slip away at weird moments, her smile freezes half a second too long. Small details like that. You pick a flirty choice, she laughs, leans in, you can almost smell her sweat and shampoo mix, and then some other guy’s name casually comes up and your stomach drops. It’s not subtle, and it’s not gentle.

The horny parts grow slowly, like mold in a corner you pretend not to see. At first you’re just choosing where to spend a day, which cheap cafe, whether to help her carry groceries. One scene you’re alone with Misaki in her apartment, the sun too bright through thin curtains, her in a loose tank top and shorts that ride up when she sits cross-legged. She offers you iced tea, your hand brushes her thigh when you take the glass, she goes quiet for a second. That silence is hotter than any moaning later. The game loves those tiny pauses, the routes where nothing explicit happens yet are somehow dirtier in your head than the straight-up sex scenes. Then there are the runs where you lean into the NTR sickness on purpose, like poking a bruise. Letting her reply to that late-night message. Choosing not to follow her when she “just goes to meet an old friend”. Coming back to a half-buttoned blouse, a faint smell that is not your cologne, and a CG that stings more because she is still smiling at you like she wants to protect you from what already happened. It gives you options to avoid that, sure, to keep things “pure” and romantic, but you feel the game secretly smirking when you pick them, like a producer forced to include a vanilla route to keep the sponsors calm.

What makes it interesting for me as a genre nerd is how it plays with POV shifts. One route you’re stuck inside Kohei’s head, rationalizing, pretending it’s fine, one bad choice, no big deal. On another, it flips and suddenly you’re watching scenes where you’re not supposed to be present at all, getting that ugly voyeur thrill. Sometimes you see Misaki from another guy’s eyes, the way he studies the sweat creeping along her neck, the way her body reacts even when her voice says “we shouldn’t”. That’s where the eroticism goes from simple horny to slightly cruel, because it forces you to admit that her desire is not a thing you own. And still the game offers proper romance lines, soft endings where you manage to hold on to her and build something tender out of all this mess. Those paths feel almost suspicious, like you wandered into a different title hosted on the same site by accident. But that contrast gives the sex extra charge. A slow kiss in a quiet room means one thing when you trust her; the same CG, same pose, after you saw what she did in another route, becomes loaded with paranoia, with “who touched you like this yesterday”. It is not elegant writing, not “high art”, but it understands really well how lust, jealousy, nostalgia and that stupid first-love hope all bleed into each other and make you click “next” even when you already hate the ending you know you’re walking toward.

Mark drags his ass back to his hometown thinking he’s just crashing at the old house for a while, and the whole thing instantly turns into a slow-motion sex disaster. Dad is gone, ran off to the Caribbean with his side piece after quietly robbing his company blind for years, and left behind a wrecked family home, a broke ex-girlfriend, and a pile of debts that might as well scream “you’re screwed” in neon. The “solution”? Turn the house into a college-style dorm and stuff it with girls who already know Mark way too well. Childhood friends, twins who used to tease him when he was still a virgin, a neighbor milf with that tight yoga-ass that makes you pause the game just to stare, and a couple of ex-crushes who suddenly don’t seem so out of reach now that everything is falling apart. The mood jumps all over the place: one moment you’re joking about the house turning into a horny hostel, the next you’re in a quiet POV scene where an old flame is jerking you off on the couch, voice quivering, whispering how she missed “this” while you were away, and yeah, she means exactly what you think.

What hits first isn’t some big dramatic twist but the way the girls remember things you forgot. Like that one scene with the chocolate cake in the kitchen where one of the twins licks cream from her finger way too slow and says “you used to watch me do this when we were kids, you perv” while her tits basically rest on the counter. You get options that look harmless, then five clicks later she’s on her knees giving sloppy oral, moaning in your language headset-style, and you realize you dug your own horny grave. The humor keeps undercutting the filth too: you can be elbow-deep in a lactation scene with a milf who “just needs some relief” and in the middle of a titfuck she cracks a joke about charging rent for every creampie you leave in the house. It should kill the mood, but it somehow makes it hotter, because it feels like real people messing around, not plastic porn robots. Some routes lean pure romance, like falling asleep after anal with a girl who cuddles you, talking about future babies and maybe pregnancy, while other paths let you drift into group sex chaos where three girls fight over whose turn it is to ride you, one sitting on your face, another grinding on your dick, someone else just quietly masturbating in the corner because she “likes to watch.” There are endings you can feel coming and others that sneak up, like screwing the wrong person behind someone’s back, that little netori twist where you pretend it’s just a handjob in the shower and suddenly you’ve ruined a relationship you were actually starting to care about. Best way to enjoy all of it? Be a little reckless. Say yes when the twins ask you to help them “study,” don’t skip the teasing scenes, let people get jealous, let mistakes pile up, and save often so you can go back and see what happens if you let the shy girl be the one who finally climbs on top and fucks you until she’s shaking.

There is this quiet kind of loneliness that only a phone screen knows. You open some app, scroll like a zombie, close it, feel nothing. This game kind of sneaks into that empty space and says, “okay, what if your notifications were from a needy, horny, slightly broken femboy who actually remembers what you said yesterday?” You’re just a guy, he’s just a guy, and still it feels weirdly fated, like some cheap isekai destiny but on Android. Alex shows up on your phone like it was always meant, sending cute selfies where his eyeliner is a bit smudged and his lips look too soft for your own good, and then two messages later he’s talking about sucking you off like it’s a casual thing between homework and Netflix. It starts sweet, really warm, with little teasing texts, voice notes, “I miss you, babe” type stuff, and before you notice you’re negotiating if he’s allowed to wear that short skirt in public, or if he should ask your permission to touch himself in the shower. Sometimes he does it anyway and only tells you after, like he wants to be caught. That part really fucked with my head in a good way, watching him drift between loyal puppy and dangerous little slut, and feeling like each tap of my thumb was pulling him somewhere softer or somewhere darker.

The cheating angle is not just some random plot sticker here. The game actually makes you feel that slow itch in your chest when you see Alex sending a selfie at night from a place you don’t recognize, makeup a bit too perfect, collar a bit too tight. There is this moment where he sends you a shaky picture of his ass with someone’s hand on his hip, but you don’t see the face, and your choices are like: pretend you did not see, ask gently, or completely lose your shit. I picked the “play cool” option and honestly it hurt more, because he starts pushing that line again and again. Corruption isn’t just for him either, it bites at you. You start as normal guy who just wants a cute boyfriend and some vanilla blowjob under the blanket, then the game tempts you with voyeur stuff, making him send videos while he’s riding some toy, or making him secretly record when another guy “helps” him with his “needs”. And if you let yourself go down that road, there is this heavy feeling like you are creating your own NTR hell on purpose, like your destiny is to watch instead of touch. I caught myself staring at an AI-style CG of Alex with his legs spread, cum running out of his fucked ass, and instead of just thinking “hot”, I had this weird ache like, “damn, this is my fault, I’m the one who pushed him there”. Then I laughed, because it’s just pixels, but you know that moment when hentai feels a bit too personal? Yeah, that. The pacing is messy sometimes, texts jump from cute to hardcore in a way that feels like bad signal on WhatsApp, but somehow that also makes it feel real, like a chaotic relationship you can’t fully control. The romance is sugary and rotten at the same time, you can jerk off to it, or you can stare at the screen after a rough scene and wonder when exactly your sweet little femboy turned into a cock-hungry toy for other guys while you just sit there, thumb hovering over the “send” button, pretending this is what you wanted all along.