This thing feels like someone grabbed the filthiest route from a bigger game, ripped it out, and just said “ok, this is the whole story now.” You’re dropped into Alena’s school life where she’s basically the official toy for every horny girl on campus, and it never even pretends to be fair or nice to her. She’s the “good girl” type at the start, shy and sporty at the same time, then every click pushes her deeper into this mess of uniforms getting pulled aside, panties shoved down, and way too many curious hands. It’s not some slow, romantic corruption either; it’s that “you’re already fucked, you just haven’t realized how much” style. First five minutes I went from “oh, poor Alena” to “ok yeah, she kinda looks hot with that tear streak and drool on her chin” without even noticing when my brain flipped.

The school setting is used in that dirty-fantasy way: empty locker rooms that are never actually empty, back corners of the gym where everyone somehow hears everything, classrooms where the door is fake privacy and half the girls outside probably know exactly what’s going on inside. There’s one scene where they make her keep her sport uniform on, just push the shorts aside and pull the top up, and it hits way harder than full nudity. She’s being ordered to bend over the equipment like she’s still just doing training, except instead of a coach yelling about stretching it’s a smug classmate smacking her ass until it turns red and then stuffing something inside her because apparently fingers weren’t enough. I liked how the game pretends you have “management” over her schedule and choices, but in reality the options are mostly like: “do you get used in the locker room or do you get used in the hallway where someone might walk past and laugh.” The illusion of control fits the humiliation vibe too well, to the point it actually annoyed me, but in a way that kinda works for the kink.

The animated scenes are where it really lives. They’re not super fancy, but the movement is just enough that when she’s on her knees, mouth full and eyes rolled up, you can watch that little jerk of her head when the girl in front of her grabs her hair and just jams it deeper. One angle shows her face going from scared to that stupid ahegao look, tongue out and everything, while another angle focuses on how far the toy or dick or whatever is actually inside. Sometimes they make her use toys on herself in public spots, like sitting her on some vibrating thing in the gym while other girls pretend everything is normal, then someone quietly flips the intensity up while asking her questions so she has to answer while her body is freaking out. There’s also this brutal bit where she’s pinned between two girls, one using her mouth, one taking her from behind, and they play it like a “test” she has to pass, spanking her whenever she slows down. It pretends to have different endings and “paths” depending on what you click, but honestly the real difference is whether she ends up kind of owning her role as the school’s dirty mascot or just staying this broken little toy that everyone keeps for their own fun. Either way, it’s girl-on-girl bullying that turned into full-on public use circus, and if that’s the headspace you’re into, this thing doesn’t really give you a way out. In a good way. Or a terrible way. Hard to tell.

Just Bros feels like reading a horny sports manga that suddenly remembers it’s a dating sim, then forgets again, then shoves your face right back into somebody’s sweaty pecs. You start as this pretty normal guy surrounded by walking thirst traps who all pretend they’re “just bros” while very obviously checking each other out in the locker room. The writing leans hard into this fake straight energy: guys comparing bench press numbers while their towels slip a little too low, casual “no homo” comments right before they push you up against a wall and kiss you like they want to swallow your tongue. It’s not subtle. I liked that. Although sometimes I hated it. One minute the game is teasing slow romantic build up, next minute you’re bent over the shower bench having your ass pounded by a so-called “training partner” who swears it’s just a special stretch.

What surprised me a bit is how close this feels to those BL sports manga where every page is just guys sweating, arguing, then making out in a dark corner. But here, you actually pick where to hang out, who to text, and which dick you want inside you tonight. The choices don’t feel super complicated on paper, but they hit hard because the guys react like actual messy humans. I had one run where I focused on the serious muscle coach, the kind of older daddy you know smells like chalk, coffee and a bit of aftershave. I kept picking the respectful, submissive options, listening to his training plans, saying “yes sir” a lot, and suddenly he’s pushing me against the gym mirror, whispering that I belong to him now. Then my phone buzzes with a hook-up invite from the loudmouth jock I’d slept with earlier, and the jealousy scene that followed felt like something ripped straight out of a yaoi drama. He doesn’t just get pissed, he gets possessive in this hot, slightly toxic way that made me both horny and annoyed. I wanted to tell him to calm down, but also to pull my hair harder. Some routes are softer, like the shy nerdy guy who looks like he never left his dorm room except to buy protein powder. His first time scene is more “I’m shaking, please go slow” and less “ram me into the locker,” but of course I still chose “ram me into the locker.” The game lets you be gentle or a total slut, and then acts shocked when you are a total slut. The only thing that bothered me too much is how often my character ends up in the same damn bar. There are like three places in this universe apparently: gym, bar, bedroom. I kept thinking, please, just one chaotic date in a supermarket, let me get railed in the frozen food aisle or something. It never happens, and I weirdly missed that. The routes twist around more than you expect, though. One night stand you thought was just a random cock turns into a full route if you don’t ghost him, and some “main” guys can stay as occasional fuckbuddies if you push them away. It feels less clean than usual visual novels, more like you’re stumbling through a horny friend group where everyone has history and nobody uses Grindr because they already have each other on speed dial. In a way it’s kind of realistic: guys pretend to be tough, pretend it’s only bros being bros, but then one simple choice and their hands are shaking while they unzip you. I kept thinking “ok, last route, I’m done,” then I saw another beefy idiot flex on screen and clicked new game again.

Galactic Athletes feels like someone mashed together the Olympic Games, a horny soap opera, and that one locker room fantasy you never told your therapist about. You play as Finn, a new medic at Thebes Sporting Complex, and on paper his job is to keep all these huge, ripped, very not shy athletes healthy. In practice he spends a lot of time with a tablet in his hand, a hard-on in his pants, and a boss who basically tells him: “Guess who wins, guess who loses, or you’re screwed.” The twist is beautiful in a stupid way: every event ends with the winner fucking the guy who comes last. Gold medal equals top. Last place equals fresh, sweaty bottom. Sports science meets porn logic, and somehow it makes sense while you play.

The whole thing runs like a horny prediction game inside a visual novel. You move through event schedules, medical checkups, locker room talks, post-match “therapy” sessions. Before each event you look at the athletes, listen to their cocky bragging, check their conditions, and try to guess who’s going to take first and who’s going to eat the dust, and then eat something else later. There was this one javelin scene where I totally misread a shy, lanky guy, thought he would choke under pressure, marked him as last. Then he absolutely destroyed the field, turned around with this smug little smile, and later I had to watch him pin a muscle monster to the bench and grind him into it while Finn stands there trying to pretend he’s taking clinical notes. That moment hurt my ego more than it should, but I still rewatched it twice. For “research.” The sex scenes don’t feel like some random gallery you click through. They are chained directly to how you read those guys, how you interpret their bodies, their nerves, their stamina. If you fuck up your predictions, somebody else gets fucked, and not in the way you hoped, which is somehow worse than losing in a normal game. And yeah, it calls itself a league, but the whole setting feels closer to ancient Greek mythology fanfic where Zeus opened a gay gym and never invented clothes. I know Thebes is from Greek tragedies, but here it’s basically a giant sex clinic with running tracks.

What I enjoy most is how the game treats the athletes like horny gods and also idiots at the same time. They are tall, thick-chested, thighs like tree trunks, and there is zero shame about how much attention is on their cocks, their asses, the way sweat sticks to body hair. You get these surprisingly tender moments too, like one sprinter limping in after a bad run, Finn icing his leg, both of them talking about pressure and fear, and then five minutes later the same guy is buck naked, bent over a massage table, groaning while the new league champion pushes in slowly, and Finn is on the side trying to judge if this counts as “recovery protocol.” I wish the game actually punished wrong predictions harder sometimes, like really lock you into awkward pairings and force you to watch your least favorite guy get topped over and over, just to be cruel, but it kind of plays nice with you in a way that doesn’t match how brutal sports can be. Still, you get that nice balance where sometimes you are genuinely reading their psychology, like “he’s too confident, he will blow his load early,” and sometimes you just pick the one whose ass you want to see ruined. It pretends to be about strategy, then laughs and shows you two sweaty men going at it against the wall of the locker room while towels slowly slide off the hooks. It’s all gay, all the time, and proudly so, like old-school bara doujin met a modern queer sports anime and they got very drunk together. I opened it thinking “ok, just some porn with medals,” and somehow ended up caring who makes Champion’s league and who falls into Redemption league hell, which to be honest, is where all the best fucking happens anyway.