I opened Trapfield Hotel expecting cheap jokes, like the kind plastered over the usual porn-jam games that think one good tit jiggle equals writing. But this thing, weirdly, has personality - it doesn’t *care* if you laugh, moan, cringe, or all three. The first scene drops you right into the lobby, naked ego and literal everything else hanging out, and a boss who’s so tall and cocky she might as well have wings. She flirts in that half-mocking way that makes you forget it’s just text on a screen. It’s hot, but not sterile-hot. Like it’s someone smirking behind the monitor, teasing you, waiting for you to mess up your dialogue choice so she can make you regret it with a slap or a forced smile or - well, you can imagine.

Half the time I was laughing though. There’s this bit where you’re delivering towels, and the towel cart bumps into a femboy maid whose breasts bounce like they’re trying to escape gravity. He apologizes three times, blushes, and still finds a way to drag you into the staff room for “training.” The game just *leans* into that ridiculous energy, and somehow it works. It’s obscene and dumb and kind of brilliant. It’s like the dev watched a hundred hentai parodies and then decided to make one that actually feels alive, with just enough self-awareness that it never becomes boring.

Not everything hits - sometimes the dialogue repeats itself, and one room scene had lighting that looked like a fever dream, but maybe that’s on purpose; it kinda fits the corruption tone, like the hotel itself is drunk. The whole thing swings between dominance and submission faster than I can decide who’s winning. I caught myself rooting for the protagonist, then laughing when the milf receptionist literally turned him into her pet for forgetting to clock in. It’s chaotic, wet, over-the-top, and somehow honest, like it knows exactly what kind of filth it’s serving and invites you to enjoy how messy that is. Nothing polished, nothing polite, just raw kink with a wink.

It starts with a weird kind of quiet, like you’re waiting for someone to say something they shouldn’t. The first scene pulls you in because it doesn’t even try to be shocking - it just *is*. Anna’s voice has this tone that sits between teasing and sincere, like she’s half‑ashamed of wanting to talk about what she wants. And then you realize, the game isn’t really about her leaving for Italy; it’s about how much you can stand watching her become someone else. There’s a moment where she sends you a photo - nothing too wild - and yet it feels heavier than the later scenes where everyone’s naked. I think that’s the trick: it makes you feel complicit before you even click the next line.

The humor sneaks in when you least expect it. There’s a bit where one of the side characters, can’t even remember his name now, tries to give “advice” about open relationships using a sandwich metaphor that’s absolutely terrible but somehow right. The writing jumps from filthy to tender so fast you almost get whiplash. Sometimes it feels mean on purpose, especially when Shego shows up - yeah, they went full parody there - and suddenly the tone flips again, all green eyes and cruel smirks, leather snapping against skin like punctuation. The game keeps forgetting it’s supposed to be sexy and then accidentally becomes it. One minute you’re laughing, next minute someone’s wrists are tied and you’ve forgotten why you were amused.

I’ll admit, I got weirdly obsessed with the sound design. The moans don’t loop cleanly; they stutter, slightly off‑tempo, and that imperfection makes it more real. There’s a scene with a mirror - voyeur stuff, sure - but what caught me is how the reflection lags a frame behind. Maybe intentional, maybe not. Doesn’t matter. It messes with your head. The pacing’s uneven, some transitions abrupt, but that chaos fits the story. If I could change one thing, I wouldn’t. Or maybe I would, but only to make it worse. Hard to tell anymore.

You wake up in this “clinic” that looks less like a hospital and more like some rich asshole’s idea of rehab, and right away you feel something’s off. They keep calling you “patient” and acting like you volunteered, but the main guy literally says your sponsor signed you in because you “couldn’t handle yourself.” Which is bullshit, by the way. First thing that hits you is how quiet everything is. No TV in your room, no phone, no Discord, nothing, just white walls and a schedule you never asked for. Then she walks in: your counselor. Fake warm smile, soft voice, tight blouse, older than you but not old, definitely knows how her body looks when she leans over the desk. She talks like she cares about your “recovery,” but every question feels like she already decided the answer and just waits for you to say it wrong so she can “correct” you. You think it’s just another boring VN at first, like yeah yeah, talk about your problems, pick the good little boy dialogue. Then she slides this “reflection form” over, with options that are basically “admit you’re broken” or “prove you need more treatment,” and you realize the game’s not letting you be neutral. Everything you say gets twisted. You tell her you’re fine and she smiles, writes something on her tablet, and boom: next session your clothing options in the wardrobe suddenly changed.

That wardrobe thing pissed me off more than it should. First day you’ve got your normal clothes: hoodie, jeans, basic stuff. Then after she “adjusts your therapy plan,” the casual wear menu has these softer tops, smaller sizes, things that look like they’d cling in the wrong places. And the game doesn’t scream “HEY LOOK YOU’RE CHANGING,” it just quietly replaces the old shit. You only notice because you try to put on the hoodie again and it’s just gone. I spent way too long clicking around that stupid closet, expecting it to pop back up if I backed out, like it was a bug, but no, this is on purpose. Same thing with the “mindfulness exercises.” At the start it’s boring breathing stuff, then suddenly the audio script has you “imagining your body becoming smoother, lighter, softer” like it’s some harmless relaxation tape. After you listen a couple times, your reflection in the bathroom mirror looks a tiny bit different, but nobody comments, not even the MC, which somehow makes it creepier. And the counselor acts like all this is perfectly normal. She starts calling you by these pet names, praises you when you pick the submissive options, and when you push back she doesn’t punish you directly, she just “recommends additional medication.” You wake up after “group therapy” and your voice lines read a little more shy, more unsure, like the game itself is rewriting how you talk. The older women in charge clearly enjoy watching you squirm, especially when they walk you through “behavioural practice” that is just code for them making you perform in front of them, and you can tell the whole place is basically one big machine meant to take a messed up dude and turn him into exactly what they want. The wild part is you start catching yourself choosing the more humiliating answers on purpose, just to see how far they’ll push you, then pretending you hate it, while still clicking “continue” like an idiot.

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.