Leo Pujols has exactly one dream in life: put ridiculous tattoos on buttholes and somehow call it “culture”. That’s the whole vibe. You show up in this sleepy town called Las Nalgas, where everyone pretends they’re classy while secretly being horny and petty as hell, and you’re the guy opening the first dedicated asshole tattoo studio on the main street. You sit there with your little tablet, staring at cheeks spread on the chair, and the game is just like, “yeah, what do you wanna draw on this rear end today?” Hearts, stupid slogans, cursed memes, whatever. You’re not just picking dialogue, you’re literally sketching on asses and then having to live with that choice when the owner walks around town with “BREATH FART” permanently stamped around their ring. People start reacting to your work too. You give one prim librarian a tiny classy flower around her hole, she walks different after that, and suddenly she’s way more confident during later scenes. You slap a bright neon dick on some macho dude’s backdoor as a joke and that comes back in the weirdest conversation at the bar. The writing leans hard into that “I can’t believe someone got paid to write this” energy. Jokes about “town budget” and “cultural funding” end up being about who gets to show off their butthole on the festival poster. There’s this angry protest group trying to shut your shop down, and every time they appear, they talk like they’re saving the youth from degeneracy while the camera just keeps cutting to huge bouncing tits and people nervously clenching. It’s stupid, but it kind of works because the game never acts serious for more than 3 seconds. One moment you’re in a legit emotional scene about freedom of expression, next moment you’re zoomed in on some chick’s asshole trying to decide if you outline the star in black or red while she moans because the needle is “too close to the rim”. It’s chaotic in a good way.

The anal focus is not some side thing, it’s the center of gravity. Every route circles back to asses. Big soft ones, hard gym ones, hairy dude cheeks, there’s a whole parade of butt variety. Penetration scenes constantly play with the tattoos you made. Like, you pound a girl from behind and the dumb little cartoon you drew is just wobbling there like it’s judging you. Sometimes it’s hot as fuck, sometimes it’s so funny you actually lose the mood and still keep going because the writing is that stupid. There’s a scene where you’re mid-anal with a client who specifically came in to “christen” the fresh ink, and she starts critiquing your line work between moans. “Fuck me harder, but also you really can’t keep a straight curve, can you?” That hit me right in my gamer pride. I wanted an undo button so bad and of course there isn’t one. Choices actually stack up in social ways too. You piss off one big-titted local politician by putting a really vulgar message near her hole, and when the council stuff happens later, she remembers. Like, you’re standing at a public meeting where they talk about art grants, and everyone in the room has seen her asshole in the booth at some point. The humor is juvenile as hell, tons of poop-adjacent jokes and butt puns, but every now and then you get this really horny, surprisingly tender anal scene that feels like it fell in from a different game. Then the next line is some nonsense about “emergency sphincter zoning laws” and you’re back to laughing. It has that messy energy of a dev who really loves asses and doesn’t care about being “tasteful”, which is kinda refreshing in a trashy way. The game’s not trying to be beautiful, it’s trying to make you laugh and jerk off while you draw terrible art on people’s back doors, and honestly, it nails that way too well.

Kendra walks back into Al-Mara Academy like she owns the place and also kinda hates every brick in it. She is this vampire witch mix, all sharp eyes, big tits, big attitude, and you can feel she is here to fuck things up and also maybe fuck half the staff. The school used to be her home, now it is more like this creepy ex you have unfinished business with. Her old mentor vanished, there is talk about forbidden rituals, monsters in the basement, and students who look way too innocent until they have you pinned against a gothic column with fangs at your throat. The whole place has this strange vibe where a classroom can turn into a crime scene or a sex dungeon with candles and leather in about two clicks. One path you are asking questions about the rector. Next scene you are on your knees in the staff lounge, tasting someone’s secrets while they pull your hair and whisper spells straight into your ear.

What I like is how regular academy shit mixes with the horny and the strange. You are supposed to teach, right, be this serious professor in dark robes, but five minutes later you have a tattooed monster girl with claws tracing your throat, teasing and refusing to give a straight answer unless you let her ride your face. There is a lot going on under the surface. Racial tension between different magical races, old rules broken, new rules nobody respects, and then Kendra trying to keep her cool while her own hunger is constantly poked. Some scenes are soft, like slow romance in a quiet library, fingers brushing over a spellbook before sliding between thighs under the table. Then the game suddenly goes hard into BDSM, collaring, spanking, ropes glowing with runes, a student calling you “Professor” with that stupid ahegao face while you push deep and she clenches around you and begs for creampie like it is extra credit. The tone jumps from mystery to pure filth so fast it feels almost wrong, but in a good “yeah okay ruin me more” kind of way. Sometimes the investigation stops dead because some tall vampire with a big ass leans over the desk and you just forget you were checking clues and not her panties.

Sex here is not just “scene, cum, next.” It feels tangled with power and identity. Female domination pops up a lot, and Kendra is not always the one in control. Sometimes she has a student on their back, legs wide, nails in their hips while she grinds down and makes them choke on her pace. Other times some older witch presses her face into the mattress, whispers a spell, and you feel her tongue and magic at the same time, like she is rewriting you from inside. Oral, vaginal, messy creampies that drip down pale skin, monster girls with weird tongues and tight bodies that are almost human and not quite. In one scene a shy girl in gothic lace finally snaps, shoves Kendra against a stained glass window, bites her lip hard enough to draw blood, and rides her hand with this desperate rhythm while outside the bell tolls like a judge. And you still have to remember which suspect lied to you earlier. Or not. Honestly, half the fun is getting lost in the academy’s shadows and letting its sick little mix of romance, fear, and wet sheets pull you wherever it wants.