Office job, boring life, same cheap instant coffee every morning, and then suddenly your dick is gone and your ass looks like something from those Twitter thirst posts. That is the vibe here. One day you are this invisible drone in a suit, the kind of guy no one remembers in the elevator, next day you wake up with tits that do not fit your old shirt and the whole city looking at you like fresh meat on sale. It is not some noble magical destiny thing either. It feels dirty and mean in a good way. People around you start pushing, touching, “helping” you adjust to your new body. Some are sweet, some are creepy as hell, half of them want to get inside your pants, the other half want to own you. And you can lean into it. Or pretend you are not into it while your clothes keep getting shorter.

The nice thing is that nothing is clean cut. You can be that shy mess who blushes when a girl kisses your neck in the bathroom stall or let yourself get dragged into a backroom and end the night with smeared lipstick and sore knees. There is this one early scene that sold me: you are in a crowded bar, still not used to walking in heels, trying to keep your new boobs from jumping out of the dress someone “helped” you choose. Some office colleague who barely talked to you before corners you at the bar, offers a drink, hand on your hip, fingers slowly sliding lower. You can shove him off, play along to get something out of him, or just let him use your mouth right there while people pretend not to look. And it is not just straight trashy stuff either. The girls in this game are dangerous. One of the women at work, proper milf with that strict boss energy, takes you “for coffee” and suddenly you are on your knees between her thighs in a locked conference room, her nails in your hair, telling you this is the only way to keep your new position. Felt like someone recorded a Pornhub Premium audition and turned it into a choice. I was lowkey impressed and also annoyed because the text box covers part of her face and it drives me crazy every single time.

It pretends to be a romantic thing sometimes, with all these dating bits and little stats going up, but under the sugar it is pure corruption. The game loves putting you in situations where you say “just this once” and five minutes later you are the office slut everyone gropes when the lift door closes. One path had me playing nice with this nerdy girl who seems harmless, then she shows up in full cosplay at a convention, ropes you into a couple costume, and suddenly she is sliding her hand under your skirt in a crowded hallway, whispering how no one will notice if you stay quiet. Another time I went the total bimbo route, jacking up every sexy option, getting pumped full of “vitamins,” brain getting softer, outfits getting tighter, ending up on my back with a small crowd taking turns while someone records it on their phone. It is filthy, it is messy, text sometimes stumbles like my own ESL brain, and the AI-style art can look a bit cursed on hands if you stare too long, but somehow that fits the whole “your life is spiraling out of control” feeling. I kept telling myself I would play the classy path, no weird power games, no blackmail, and ten clicks later I am signing a shady contract while a guy has his fingers inside me under the desk and my so-called “friend” is snapping pics in the corner like it is no big deal. Anyway, I’m absolutely not addicted, I can quit after just one more scene.

New girl moves in across the hall, heavy boots, eyeliner sharp enough to cut you, shirt two sizes too small for her ass, and suddenly your boring little apartment block turns into the most distracting place on earth. She barely looks at you at first, just this cold side glance and a tiny smirk like she already knows exactly how much you’re staring. And of course you’re staring. The whole game hangs on that tension: she’s right there, close enough to hear you jerk off through the wall if you’re not careful, and far enough that one stupid choice turns everything awkward. It feels like someone took the usual dating sim stuff, then stripped it down to just you, her, a crappy corridor, some tiny choices, and the slow burn of “how far can I push this neighbour thing before it explodes in my face”.

What I liked is how casual the sex side creeps in. You don’t start with some “hi, I’m your new slutty goth neighbour, let’s fuck” bullshit. It starts with tiny scenes: you hearing her music through the wall at night, her leaning against the doorframe in that lazy way that makes her chest pop, you catching just a bit too much skin when she bends over to pick her keys. Then you get that first choice to comment on it or pretend you saw nothing. Pick the bold option and she doesn’t melt right away, she kind of tests you. Stares a little too long. Sits on your crappy couch and spreads her legs like it’s totally normal, phone in hand, pretending she’s not watching your eyes move. There’s one moment where she “forgets” to pull her shorts all the way up after using your bathroom, and the game hangs there, giving you that sick little date sim question: touch, tease, or play it safe. That scene worked way better than when she suddenly gets super soft and flirty later, which honestly felt like a different girl wrote her own script. But that weird mood swing sort of fits a goth neighbour who might ghost you after blowing you on the balcony and then act like nothing happened when you meet in the stairs.

The writing is rough in places, like someone thinking in their second language and not checking grammar, but that actually matches the mood. There’s a line where she says something like “I like when people observe me” instead of “watch me”, and it sounds wrong, yet also kind of hot in this clinical way, like she’s inviting you to study her body. Some of the erotic text goes a bit too fast, though. One minute you’re talking about her band or whatever, next line she’s grinding that big ass on your lap like she’s known you for years, and I kinda wished the game forced you to wait, torture you with another day of bumping into her on the staircase, watching her hips sway while you’re holding grocery bags. Choices matter just enough that you feel like you can corrupt her vibe or keep it more “friends that fuck sometimes”. The whole thing is like testing how much your neighbour will let you perv on her before she either pulls you into her place by the shirt or slams the door in your face. It’s short, janky, horny as hell, and somehow both too tame and too explicit at the same time. And that stupid hallway plant near your doors is always in the frame, doing nothing, looking ugly as hell. I hate that plant.

Epifania looks like some luxury fashion week gone rotten in the sexiest way. Neon on wet concrete, everyone pretending to be high class while they’re literally lining up for a hole in the wall. You arrive as this nobody with big hunger and zero connections, just you and this building that looks like an abandoned outlet store someone forgot to bulldoze. Then that Devil Investor shows up, all smug and perfectly dressed, like the kind of client who sits front row at a fetish runway show and buys the entire collection with one bored click. She doesn’t ask if you want in. She just throws you the mission: turn this wreck into the most profitable and depraved brothel in the city. And suddenly you’re balancing spreadsheets and cumshots in the same breath, which, honestly, feels familiar to anyone who tried to run an Etsy store while doomscrolling Pornhub.

First thing that caught my designer brain: the girls are not copy-paste dolls. You start “training” them and it feels weirdly like fitting models for a very, very illegal lingerie line. You watch them change from shy little things clinging to basic underwear into total predators who know exactly how to use lace, heels, and a dripping mouth. Some are sweet mom-types with soft tummies and milk-heavy breasts, the kind you’d shoot for an expensive maternity fetish catalog. You push them into public booths where strangers use them like shared accessories. That whole gloryhole section? It’s like designing a collection where the face is irrelevant, only the silhouette of thighs and tits matters. I hated how it turned me on. I loved how it turned me on. It’s messy like that. One night I focused on a single “pure” girl, double-checking her stats on my phone between Instagram stories, trying to keep her first time special then casually booking her into a gangbang room right after because the numbers looked good. The game doesn’t guilt-trip you. It just quietly asks: more clients or more conscience? And you already know the answer, you capitalist slut.

The management part is sneaky. You think it’s just clicking upgrades, then you realize you’re planning who gets which kink like you’re coordinating outfits for a runway lineup: anal queen here, bondage star there, the tall milf with heavy lactation in the VIP lounge that smells like perfume and sweat. There’s this weird thrill watching your building go from dusty warehouse to multi-floor pleasure machine, with private rooms, voyeur windows, and that one office where you handle “contracts” with potential corporate partners who want their own harem branch. I kept pausing, thinking how I’d design actual lingerie sets for them: soft leather harnesses for the submissive accountant type, transparent body stocking for the market manipulator who ruins competitors while taking a footjob on her desk. At one point I was negotiating prices for public use sessions on one screen and sketching a crotchless bodysuit in Procreate on the other, and it all just blended. The game lets you push the girls into pregnancy deals like they’re limited edition drops, fill them up, send them back out, watch clients line up for that. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. I still wish the interface didn’t hide some details in tiny menus like some cheap fast-fashion site, but then I catch myself zooming in on a courtesan getting her ass filled and I forget what I was annoyed about. Anyway, the city doesn’t care. You start with nothing, you end with a building full of moaning, swollen, used bodies and a bank account that keeps climbing every time someone walks through your doors. It feels like running a fashion brand where the models never leave the show, they just keep getting fucked harder behind the curtain.

This one feels like some horny fever dream you had back in school, when you just discovered those old flash porn games on Newgrounds and didn’t really care if anything was “finished” or “balanced” or whatever. You’re basically this normal dude, staring from your own eyes, and you’ve got this robot girl who acts like a girlfriend because you tell her to. She’s kind of like the fantasy of “perfect obedient girl” that a lot of games try to make, but here it’s stripped down so hard it almost feels awkward. In a good way. Or maybe not good, just raw. You pull her in close, give a command, and she just… does it. No drama, no fake moral choice, just straight up “yeah, I’ll sit on your dick now” energy.

The whole thing plays almost like a tiny sex simulator someone cooked up in a horny weekend after too much porn and not enough sleep. You’re in this POV angle, watching her react to what you choose. Sometimes she’s playful, sometimes you’re just there thrusting and waiting for that perfect moment to fill her up. When you finally push deep and stay there, watching that sticky creampie drip while she smiles like this is the most normal thing in the world, it hits that old-school porn game nostalgia really hard. And then she starts talking about getting pregnant from it, and you kind of feel your brain do that weird switch: half “haha this is ridiculous” and half “yeah, knock her up, go on, make that robot womb work.” It’s so dumb. It’s also hot as hell.

There’s a funny side that pops up at the most random times. Little bits of humor in her lines, moments where she acts like a cliché romance anime girl and then instantly goes back to taking it raw. It’s almost like the game can’t decide if it wants to be a sweet girlfriend sim or just you, balls deep, breeding a robot because you can. Which is kinda perfect. The lack of polish shows in places: some transitions feel sudden, some reactions don’t quite match what’s going on, a few loops repeat so much you start noticing the tiny details instead of the sex. I got stuck staring at one tiny animation hiccup on her hip for way too long, mid thrust, like “why is that pixel jumping” while I’m trying to finish. The funny thing is, that almost made it feel more personal. Less like some big studio thing, more like something a pervy nerd put together and kept adding to bit by bit. You feel that early-stage vibe everywhere. She listens to you, she moves for you, she takes your cum and talks about carrying your baby like it’s just part of your daily routine, and even when it’s clunky, it scratches that old itch from those simple browser porn games where the whole point was: click, fuck, cum, repeat. No big story, no long setup. Just you, a robot “girlfriend,” and the quiet thrill of watching her body react when you finish inside and think, “yeah, she’s definitely not safe tonight.”