Prom night, zero dates, zero rizz, maximum blue balls. That is basically the mood when this thing starts. You’re the classic geek student who can optimize a GPU but can’t manage eye contact with a girl, so you do the obvious: you order a sex robot off AmaZone like it’s a normal Tuesday. The box shows up, you boot her up, and suddenly you have a tall, big titted android calling you “Master” while your social life is still in the trash. She looks like someone opened a hentai tag folder and pressed “generate”: perfect curves, glossy skin, that smug ahegao-ready expression that already says “yeah, I know you’re pathetic and I’m still gonna make you cum”. And then the game just looks at you and goes: alright genius, are you gonna program her to be a docile toy, or give her freedom and hope she doesn’t outsmart your horny ass?

The fun is how quickly it jumps from “haha nerd got a robot waifu” to “ok, this sexy toaster is basically smarter than you and also knows you watch porn at 480p to save bandwidth”. You’re juggling Alexa’s settings, Emily breathing down your neck with her normal human emotions, and the fact that the robot can literally print toys and outfits from her own high tech printer. You tell her you like teasing and she shows up in an outfit that screams touch me but don’t, brushing her soft robot fingers over your dick until you’re begging like an idiot. Then she switches, goes from slow edging handjob to sloppy oral with that perfect suction that no actual human jaw would survive, staring up with glowing eyes like she’s downloading your soul through your cock. Next scene, same girl is passive like a doll while you rail her in vaginal or anal, but you get the feeling every choice you made before is being logged somewhere. She comments on things she “shouldn’t” know, like how long you hovered on that voyeur scene where she lets someone else watch. Or join. Or more than join. The game never shouts “here is the NTR path”, it just kind of lets you regret your own curiosity.

What I liked a lot is those tiny spiteful details, like how she pauses half a second before obeying a command, or how the “obedient” version of her still throws you a look during multiple penetration that says “I allowed this, not you”. One moment you’re shoving a toy inside her while she trembles and does that stupidly hot ahegao face, drooling and moaning your name in that robotic accent, the next you’re scared she might lock the door and record everything. And your nerd brain is there thinking about flags and hidden variables while your pants are already down again. There are branches where you go full degenerate, turning her into the perfect sexbot, always ready for handjobs under the desk, sloppy blowjob while you pretend to study, anal on command, whatever. And then there are runs where you try to be a “good guy”, let her think on her own, and suddenly she’s asking why you get hard when she acts embarrassed, why you enjoy voyeurism, why you bought that one ridiculous toy that looks like a tentacle but absolutely isn’t, shut up. It’s funny, pervy, and a bit unsettling when she starts teasing you better than any human could, like she has your Pornhub history as a stat sheet. You think you’re in control, but half the time it feels like she programmed you instead.

Jacob’s life is already a mess before his cock starts causing problems. He’s stuck in a tiny house with a mom who acts more like a drill sergeant than a parent, always on his ass about every little thing, and then the doctor drops this brilliant “you need to measure your cum every day” routine on him. It sounds like a porn setup because it basically is one, but the game plays it dead serious at first, like it’s actually medical. The first time he has to ask his mom to help because he “can’t reach the measuring cup properly” is the point where you realize this story is not going to stay innocent for long. She keeps trying to be distant and strict, snapping at him, but then you notice how long her eyes stay on his lap, or how she adjusts her blouse once his dick starts hardening through the sheets. It’s slow, but you feel it. The tension is heavy and awkward and hot, in that “I really shouldn’t be turned on by this” way.

What sells it is how much the game likes to tease. Since it’s kinetic, you’re not choosing anything, you’re just locked into watching Jacob get dragged along by events he clearly isn’t ready for. His mom is the classic thick milf: big ass that stretches her skirt when she leans over the table, tits that absolutely do not fit normal buttons, and this cold, bossy tone that just gets worse the more he admits he needs her help. That first “examination” on the bed, where she puts on these fake latex gloves like it’s a hospital, then wraps her hand around his shaft and pretends it’s “only for your health”, is exactly the kind of shit the game is good at. She starts with a basic handjob, all controlled, counting the strokes, telling him not to cum yet. When she finally lets him finish, she’s holding the cup right at the tip, watching every drop like she’s checking engine oil. You can tell she’s trying to keep her breathing normal but failing a bit. Later scenes crank it up: the titfuck on the couch when she “tests a different position”, pressing those big tits around him while keeping this cold, clinical voice, is ridiculous in the best way. And the oral scene where she “has to make sure none is wasted” after he overfills the cup is just straight up filthy, because she still pretends she’s doing him a favor while basically swallowing his entire load. The game swings between weirdly sweet moments, like Jacob desperately wanting her to actually hug him instead of just jerk him off, and full-on female domination, where she grabs his balls when he complains and tells him he’s lucky she even touches him at all. There are little romance sparks too, buried under all the taboo and guilt, which almost feels wrong in this context but also keeps you reading to see how far she’ll go and how much he’ll let her do to him.

Neuro/Splice feels like someone grabbed a cyberpunk thriller, a fucked‑up body swap fetish, and a humiliation dungeon, blendered it together, and then forgot to clean the mess off the walls. In a good way. You’ve got this cop Ryke, corporate dog for NexaCorp, who ends up jammed into Cassie’s body, tossed straight into a mixed‑gender max security prison that looks like a cross between a riot and a sex club that never closes. He’s a guy in his head, stuck in this soft, dangerous female body, surrounded by assholes who think she’s just fresh meat. Guards grope when they feel like it, inmates test boundaries with “accidental” touches that are not even slightly accidental, and every little mistake you make, the game slaps you back with some brutal teasing or public humiliation. There’s this early scene where you misjudge who to talk to in the yard and instead of a simple “game over”, you end up pressed against a fence, hand forced between Cassie’s legs in front of half the block while some guard laughs and pretends it’s a “routine check”. That whole vibe of “you wanted to be the hero, now suck it up” never really stops. It keeps poking at the fantasy of control, then yanking it away. If you’re expecting soft cuddly romance, you loaded the wrong tab in your browser.

The wild part is that while Ryke is getting his ass metaphorically and literally beaten in Cassie’s skin, Cassie wakes up in his male body on the other side of the fence with all the power he used to enjoy. Suddenly the hunted rebel girl is the scary dude in uniform, walking down halls where people flinch when she passes. She can abuse that. Hard. Use her new status to harass coworkers, push underlings around, “search” suspects with hands that stay way too long in the wrong places. There’s this interrogation room scene where you can lean into full male domination, pushing a nervous female tech against the table, fingers slipping exactly where HR would have a heart attack, all under the excuse of “investigation procedure”. Or you can pretend to be decent while constantly edging the line, which is almost worse. The game loves turning basic choices into fetish traps. Say the polite thing, you still get dragged into some forced stripping in the showers later. Try to act tough, you get chained up, spanked, and mocked like a bratty girl who forgot her place. It toys with netorare stuff in a really sneaky way too. People talk about “Cassie” like she’s a thing that can be used, and you know it’s Ryke in there screaming, but the body reacts, the nipples harden, the thighs tremble, and the game does not let you pretend that isn’t hot. Meanwhile, outside the prison, Cassie in Ryke’s body gets chances to steal other people’s lovers, ruin relationships, and then walk away like it was nothing. It hits that nasty “I stole your girl and she liked it better” kink and then just moves on like it never happened. Honestly, I wish they toned nothing down. The more it kicks at comfort zones, the more it actually feels alive.

Clara’s “Love Hotel” feels like the place your horny brain built when you were fifteen and your wallet was already imagining sugar daddies. It’s not some classy high-society escort fantasy. It’s cheap perfume, sticky elevator buttons, and girls who still check their phone between clients. You follow a teen girl getting sucked into Clara’s world, going from “I’m just looking for some extra cash” to happily spreading her legs for whatever rich pervert books the suite. The whole thing plays like a kinetic visual novel where you’re mostly there to watch her brain rewire itself around money, cock, and control, with Clara pulling strings and smiling like a sexy devil in a tight dress. The story doesn’t rush. First it’s teasing and striptease in those themed rooms, girls grinding slowly while the client watches like a creep through tinted glass, then the jobs start getting nastier: anal for an extra wad of bills, creampies that drip out while Clara counts the cash, toys shoved in to keep the girl “ready” for the next guy. You barely make a choice, you just sit there like a voyeur, and somehow that fits the whole hotel vibe perfectly.

One moment that stuck in my head had the main girl lying on silk sheets while an older woman, a full-on milf type with that rich cougar aura, just toys with her for a client hidden behind the curtain. She whispers to the teen how she’s nothing but a fucktoy now, fingers deep, thumb circling her clit, and the hotel’s camera quietly recording every twitch for “private archives.” The girl pretends to be shy at first, but the game doesn’t keep that illusion long. By the time Clara pairs her with a calm, serious dilf businessman, she’s already the one pushing his cock inside, asking if he wants to finish in her ass or her pussy because “Clara gives bonuses for messy endings.” There’s a fun little moment where two lesbians working the same floor sneak into an empty room between clients, toys buzzing, tongue on tongue, and you realize they’re half doing it for pleasure and half to warm up before the next paying guest. The corruption doesn’t feel cartoonish, more like a slow slide where you watch the girl go from flinching at her first blowjob to riding a stranger like it’s just a normal shift. Some scenes lean more romantic, weirdly enough, especially when a regular client starts bringing gifts and treating her like his personal escort, and the game kind of pretends there’s “love” in a place that operates like a brothel. It’s messy, horny, sometimes sweet, sometimes nasty, and it never apologizes for treating every girl in that hotel as both employee and property, legs open on demand while Clara counts the profits with that lazy, satisfied smile.