This one feels like someone took a horny fashion week, locked it inside a demon brothel and then said “ok, now make it emotional but still fuck a lot.” The House itself is basically a luxury showroom where every corridor feels like a backstage runway right before the models go out, except the models are demons and humans trying to fuck their way to a Hall of Fame. I’m a lingerie designer by job, so I notice stupid things first. The first time you meet one of the girls, the way her outfit tells you exactly who she is before she speaks really hit me. Lace that looks innocent from far, but closer you see it barely hides anything. Straps that look decorative, but they sit exactly where a hand would grab during sex. Superpowers here are not just some menu choice, they feel like extra accessories on a body. Power is styled, not only written. You’re a demon with memories locked away and somehow the story still wants you to care about feelings while also asking you “ok, which pussy do you want tonight?” It should not work, but it kind of does. Or it doesn’t. I can’t decide.

The whole “performer” angle makes the sex feel like a show you’re also directing, not only watching. There’s a moment where one girl is trying so hard to impress you that she holds her pose longer than is actually sexy, like a model freezing for a bad photographer. She keeps her legs open, panting, waiting for your next choice, and there’s this tiny second where you see her doubt slip through the dirty talk. That tiny second is weirdly hotter than the actual vaginal sex that follows. Speaking of that, the game is not shy. Penetration is treated like something serious, not “and then dick goes in, fade to black.” You pick how you approach, how rough, how soft, and her reaction is not just one repeated moan file in your mind. She complains, she teases, she even gets annoyed at you once for stopping halfway and I liked that a lot. No, actually I hated it, because I had to reload to see another option and the menu font is too damn small and now I am angry again. Anyway. The House is all about “who pushes which button” and sometimes that is literal: there are choices that feel like pressing a nipple, or sliding two fingers between lace and skin. The game pretends to care about your mission to save someone important, but every time a girl leans in, whispers in your ear, offers you her throat and her thighs, the whole grand destiny thing disappears like last season’s collection. Which is fine. Or not. I actually forgot to talk about the harem side, but you already know what that means. You start thinking “I’ll stay loyal to this one broken, beautiful demon” and two scenes later you are balls deep in someone else, promising her she is special too. And the thing is, the House believes you. That’s what sticks after closing the tab: all these women styled like living lingerie, each one trying to be your favorite outfit, while you pretend you’re choosing with your heart and not with your cock.

You wander through this dead, sunburned Egypt where the sand is full of bones and broken tech, and somehow your biggest problem keeps becoming “who am I fucking tonight and how hard.” The game throws you in as this desert scavenger who is supposed to be hunting relics and old-world junk, but every time you push deeper into the ruins you just keep stumbling into more messed up, horny situations. One second you are negotiating with some half-feral tribal girl who wants water, the next second she is on her knees between your legs in a crumbling temple, sand dust falling from the ceiling while she gags on your cock and tries to keep eye contact like it’s some kind of ritual. The story pretends to care about fate, old gods, this artifact that can twist the future and all that, but the real tension is always “do you ruin this person, or do you pretend to be her savior while still using her body.” It feels wrong and hot at the same time, like you are playing with a broken toy that still smiles at you.

What actually keeps it interesting is how many different flavors of messed up it has. You have girls who melt the second you humiliate them in front of others, being dragged by a collar through a ruined street while people stare. You have this strict, icy woman who acts like she owns you, spitting orders and making you lick her feet, only for you to later chain her up in some underground chamber and fuck her until she cries and drools milk all over herself. One girl is shy and flat, another stacked and leaking, and the game really doesn’t care if you want to turn the whole ruined pyramid complex into your personal harem, breeding them, sharing them with your allies, or letting them “serve” as slaves in some filthy market. Sometimes the sex is slow and almost tender, bodies pressed together on dusty sheets in a half-collapsed apartment, sometimes it jumps into full-on horror, with blood, screaming, and you still hard while something awful drips down her thighs. You get pissing scenes in dirty showers, public use in alleys, group scenes in torch-lit chambers where everybody is sweaty and no one really knows who is fucking who anymore. There are moments where you feel like a monster, forcing a girl to strip in front of her own family, or making a daughter watch what you do to her mother, and the game just lets that hang there, no hand holding, no “good boy” message, just your choices and the way these broken people cling to you anyway. Then five minutes later you are clicking through some dialog that feels like it came from a hentai shitpost and laughing because it is so blunt and stupid. It is rough, filthy, sometimes too much, sometimes not enough, but it sticks in your head like the taste of sweat and sand on someone’s skin.

Star Periphery feels like someone smashed a lewd dating sim into a busted space freighter and just left the whole mess running. You’re this skinny space nobody with more hormones than sense, tossed into a universe where every second woman has a thick cock, big tits, a mean streak, or all three, and half the time you’re just trying not to stare while your eyes are glued to their asses anyway. It starts pretty simple, wandering around this rusty station full of flickering neon and suspicious stains, but it sneaks up on you. One moment you’re just checking a cargo manifest, next moment a smug futa customs officer has you pressed to a wall, one gloved hand casually groping your ass while she pretends to be “searching for contraband.” That scene sold me, honestly. The way she keeps her voice calm and bored while you’re clearly leaking through your panties, teasing you with slow strokes over the fabric, then just walks away like nothing happened. Loved it. Actually I hated it because I had to reload after choosing the coward dialog and missing half the scene, but that’s another thing.

The voyeur stuff is weirdly strong here. There’s this bit where you end up stuck in a crappy hostel pod, thin bulkhead, cheap audio insulation, and you can hear a monster girl mechanic in the next room railing some poor femboy trainee. You only see flashes through a broken panel and some flickering HUD readout, but you hear everything. Wet slaps, his breathy little whines, her low voice telling him to “push back more, toy” while she spanks his ass red. No explicit camera angle, no heroic close-up of internal cumshots, just your imagination and some nasty audio. It feels more filthy than most straight up porn scenes. Then later the game turns around and throws full-on internal views at you, showing a massive futa shaft stretching your virgin ass open while some clinical scanner overlays data on muscle tension and depth. It’s kind of hot, kind of medical, kind of fucked. In a good way. Maybe. I’m still not sure. Anyway, the point is, it does both subtle and really not subtle, and sometimes in the same arc, which is confusing and nice.

What I liked most is how the romance sneaks into all the filth. There’s this MILF captain, big ass, heavy tits, looks like she bench presses starship engines for fun. At first she treats you like a disposable cabin boy, orders you to your knees for a “stress relief” handjob after a bad run, uses your mouth while checking navigation on her tablet like you’re just another system. The first time she titfucks you, she doesn’t even look down, just talks about fuel prices while your cock is sliding between her slick cleavage and you try not to cum too fast or she’ll mock you. Then hours later she quietly asks if you want to sleep in her bunk instead of the cold cargo bay, spoons you from behind, hard cock pressed between your cheeks, no sex at all, just this heavy warmth and her arm over your waist. It feels almost wholesome, then she wakes you up in the morning by grinding against your ass and whispering “open up for your captain” and you remember this is still a dirty game about turning a shy guy into a proper slutty trap. Or not, depending on choices. Sometimes you can dodge the sissification paths completely and stay a more standard sub guy, and sometimes you walk straight into a shop that sells sex toys and walk out in a thong, collar, stockings and a remote vibrator inside you because a smug futa tech-girl convinced you it improves your “crew performance.” I swear I was trying to play it cool and avoid that content, then I clicked one flirt option in a bar and suddenly I’m kneeling while she adjusts my stockings and spanks me for fidgeting. It’s messy, half-polite, half-degrading, and I kept clicking anyway.

Become Alpha is a porn game with tons of memes, kickass branching storyline, quests, RPG-like experience system, and a possibility to have sex with many partners. It's also pretty damn funny. The story is about Harry Panuchkin who's a nerd and a wannabe gangster. He has a big dick, but never actually used it. It's your job to help him get the pussy and make him a proper alpha male, that he always wanted to be.