This one starts like some epic fairy tale your grandma would censor with a black marker, then just falls face first into filth in the nicest way. You’re this classic heroic dude with a sword, a job from the king, plague on the land, cursed forest, all that fantasy poster stuff. And on your arm, there’s Vallabelle, your elf wife, all holy robes and huge tits and that kind of ass that makes armor look illegal. She is written like this sweet, loyal priestess who’d probably heal your paper cut and apologize to the cut. And that’s exactly why the whole corruption thing hits harder. The game doesn’t rush into the porn right away. It does that slow boil where you’re walking through traps, monsters, ruins, and you can feel the forest looking at her more than at you. Long shots on her thigh when she climbs, her robes riding up, camera hanging just a bit too low when she bends to heal somebody. At first it feels like normal fanservice and you’re like “ok sure, jiggle physics.” Then you notice where the camera always is when she casts spells. Below. Always below.

Since it’s a straight kinetic story, there’s no pretending you’re in control. No choices, no branches, no magic button to “save Vallabelle.” You just click, watch, and slowly realize this quest is way more about her body than the stupid cure. You get these small scenes where she clings to you after a fight, shaking with fear, and your guy is trying to stay noble while the game already set her up as the perfect target. Big tits squeezed into that priest dress, hips that don’t know the meaning of modesty, shy smile that says “no” while the plot has already decided “yes, but later and with tentacles.” The pacing loves teasing. She gets groped by “accident” when a monster grabs her from behind, hands everywhere, her moans halfway between pain and very obvious something else. A so-called healing ritual where some shady old altar needs “physical contact” and she’s stroking, sucking, taking it like it’s all for the greater good. Your hero tells himself it’s just magic. The forest laughs.

The NTR flavor comes in quiet first. A hand that stays on her ass too long. A shot of her lips after she wipes off someone else’s cum and pretends it was part of the ceremony. You catch glimpses through bushes, like full on voyeur scenes where your character is “resting” while she goes to check something and you get these frames of her surrounded. Tentacles curling around her legs, sliding under the robe, smacking against that thick elf butt while she whimpers and still prays, because of course she does. There’s handjobs where she’s clearly trying to be “selfless” and ends up jerking off something non-human, eyes glazed, saying she only did it to protect you. Then later, oral scenes with her on her knees for someone else, drool and cum all over that pretty priest face, and the narration plays it like she’s sacrificing herself, but the blush and body language tell another story. Vaginal scenes go from “forced” to disturbingly eager, her grabbing hips, begging for more, clinging to monsters or other men with the same hands she used to hold yours. Spanking comes in as “punishment” or training, except every smack makes her ass jiggle and the camera practically worships it. She starts to arch into it, moaning too loud, and you just sit there like an idiot clicking forward, fully aware you’re not the main character anymore. The forest is. By the time she’s cheating in broad daylight, grinding that big ass down on someone else’s cock, talking about how it helps the mission, you already knew this was coming. You still feel that little stab when she looks back at you from the CG, eyes half guilty, half fucked stupid, like she remembers you just enough to hurt. And yeah, I got mad at one tiny thing: her hair clip keeps clipping through her ear in one scene and it pulled me out of the moment for two seconds. Then the tentacle went in and my brain forgot the complaint.

You start as this guy who got totally screwed over by life. Framed for killing his own father, thrown in prison, years just gone. When he finally walks out, the whole vibe of the world feels off, like reality forgot how to be normal. And then his dreams stop being just dreams. One night you’re staring through your own eyes, next night you’re suddenly in this other place, like a sci-fi fantasy city with neon and magic at the same time, stuck in a tight POV view with a monster girl pressing her huge tits against your chest, asking why you keep running from “your power.” She’s got horns, a tail, and an ass that fills the whole screen when she turns. You’re supposed to be scared, she’s talking about fate and monsters and some cosmic war, but instead you’re watching her lips as she wraps them around your cock and drools all over it, eyes rolled back in full ahegao while you’re still half sure this is a nightmare. It’s not. Not really. Every time you cum, the dream world reacts, like you just flipped a switch in some forgotten machine.

Then, outside of dreams, your life is this weird mix of murder mystery and porn logic. You’re “trying to rebuild yourself,” but what actually happens is you keep meeting women who are way too into your mess. The milf neighbor who knew your father and keeps “comforting” you by letting your hands wander under her blouse, whispering that you’re so much bigger than he was while she grinds on your thigh. The shy virgin cosplay girl who acts like a nervous little mouse in the day, then shows up dressed as some space elf at night, kneeling between your legs with glitter on her cheeks, giving you slow, sloppy oral and stopping every few seconds to tease you with just the tip between her lips, like she’s roleplaying she never did this before. She says she wants to help “investigate” your case, but somehow the investigation scene ends with her riding you, big tits bouncing, begging for a creampie so hard she forgets the whole point of the conversation. Sometimes you get to flip things and go full male dom, hand around a throat, fucking her from behind until her tongue’s out and she’s moaning like a broken toy. Other times the game flips you on your back and lets a dominant woman sit on your face, grinding her pussy over your mouth while she uses a vibrator on your cock and denies you until your vision almost fades. There’s anal, voyeur moments where you spy two monster girls going at it in a shower, footjobs from a smug heroine who claims she “won’t touch you with her hands,” titfucks where your cum ends up all over soft big breasts, toys shoved into dripping holes while you stand there, watching, choosing whether you help or just enjoy the show. In the middle of all that, you’re chasing clues about your father’s death, unlocking superpower stuff tied to sex and emotions, and somehow building a harem of humans, milfs and literal monsters who all want a piece of you. It’s messy, horny, sometimes actually emotional for a second before someone gets groped against a wall and you forget what you were even talking about.

The first thing that hit me in House of Secrets was that quiet feeling of being watched in your own place. Not jumpscare stuff, more like you walk through this neat, almost too clean house and every room remembers what you did inside it. You sit on the couch with your wife, she barely looks at you, her voice feels cold even through text, and somehow it stings more than the actual sex scenes later. The sound of her heels on the floor, her stiff posture at the dining table, the way she pulls away when you try to touch her, all that is written in a way you almost feel the texture of the air between you. I had Discord open on the other monitor, music muted in Spotify, and still the silence in this game felt louder than everything.

Then the blonde shows up, this shy girl who moves like she is scared to take too much space. When she first enters the house, the camera sticks close to her body, to small details, like the way her fingers tighten around the strap of her bag or how her shirt clings slightly to her breasts when she breathes in. The pov angle really sells it, in a dirty way and also kind of intimate. You are basically following your own gaze, you linger too much on her big tits, on her ass when she bends a bit too far while helping in the kitchen, and the game just lets you be a creep without scolding you. One of the hotter moments for me was a simple one: she leans over you to reach a cabinet, and the fabric of her top brushes your face for half a second. There is no sex there, but my brain filled all the rest. Then five minutes later you are in the bedroom listening to your wife talk about how you never pay attention to her, and suddenly you feel like a dick and still keep saving your progress right before every branching choice so you can see all the wrong options.

Stuff happens in small spaces. Corridors, the bathroom mirror, the gap of a half open door where voyeurism really kicks in. Watching the wife undress from behind the door, seeing that big ass she never lets you touch anymore, or spying on the blonde when she thinks she is alone, her hand sliding under her panties, soft wet sounds described without shame. I liked that the game is not scared to describe the mess. When you finally cheat, it is not clean porn. There is the weight of a body on you, the scratch of nails, the smell of sweat in a closed room, the awkward bumping of knees. She rides you on that couch that used to be just for boring TV nights, her tits bouncing in your face, and you feel this stupid mix of guilt and pure lust. The CG quality is sometimes a bit uneven, some angles look like the AI went crazy with shadows on the face, but the way they handle skin, the shine on nipples, the curve of a thigh pressing down on your hips, it all works too well in motion of the story. I got annoyed that some clicking zones are tiny, like the hotspot on a glass in the kitchen, and spent way too long hunting that instead of boobs. Also one late scene in the bathroom mirrors is hot as fuck, water running down her body, her back pushing to the cold tiles, and yet the game still pretends you might want to save the marriage after that. Which is kind of bullshit, but I kept clicking anyway.

The heat sits on that tiny apartment like a wet towel you can’t shake off. It sticks to skin, to clothes, to Rei’s thin tank top when she bends over the sink, pretending she doesn’t feel your eyes on her ass. She’s supposed to be “aunt,” or “family friend,” or whatever label makes it less fucked up that every time she passes in the hallway your cock twitches. She moves slow, tired housewife kind of slow, but every curve on her body screams she knows exactly what she’s doing. Soft big tits that fight against cheap fabric, hips that fill the doorway, that slightly sad smile of a woman who’s been lonely way too long and pretends she’s okay with it. Except she isn’t. Not really.

Then the old man shows up. Claims to be your grandfather. Smells like cigarettes and sweat and something rotten. Sets his suitcase down like he just decided this is his house now. You want to laugh, but Rei’s face drains of color and Sora’s eyes narrow like a cat that spots a mouse. She’s the daughter, sharp tongue and short shorts, always with a game console in hand, pretending she doesn’t notice how her mom starts flinching whenever the old bastard “accidentally” brushes against her. You watch from the crack in your door as he starts touching Rei longer than needed, his wrinkled fingers on her waist, on her ass, talking about “helping with stress.” At first she stiffens, then she forces a smile, then she starts making excuses to be alone with him. For “adult talk.” You know that tone. Corruption doesn’t happen in one big step; it happens cup of tea by cup of tea, “thank you” by “it’s fine, just this once.”

The fucked up part is how the game lets you poke at this situation, not like a hero, but like a horny parasite. You’re not stopping anything. You’re deciding how much you want to see. You can sneak to the bathroom door and hear Rei choking on something that is not a cough. The wet noise of forced oral turning into desperate, hungry sucking, where her gagging shifts into little muffled moans she would never admit are real. Or you stay “loyal” and still end up spying through keyholes while she rides that old bastard, her big ass bouncing on his lap, tears in her eyes but her pussy creaming around him like it belongs there. Sometimes she resists and then folds, sometimes she looks like she’s almost enjoying the rough grip on her hair, the way he talks to her like property. Sometimes you even get pulled in, not as savior but as another man claiming a piece of her, sliding into her raw and leaving your cum deep inside, while her womb already full of someone else’s seed. Interracial mix of bodies and age and power, all wrapped in that cramped apartment where walls are thin and secrets thinner.

Sora’s the little devil in the corner, seeing everything, pretending she doesn’t care. She catches you peeking once, smirks, and the next time she “borrows” the old man’s wallet she demands he plays along. Trading games is not about consoles anymore. She comes back to your room with flushed cheeks and messed hair, chewing on gum that wasn’t hers before, and throws a wrapped bill on your bed like a joke. She teases you, spreads her legs just a bit too far when she sits on your chair, talks about how “grandpa” is disgusting while her eyes sparkle with something way darker. If you push, she might open those legs more, might ask what you’d pay for a peek, or for a taste, or for the chance to paint her face white while her mom moans in the next room on someone else’s cock. This whole summer turns into a slow, sweaty spiral where ownership is just a word men use when they shove their dick somewhere and leave it dripping. Who gets Rei in the end, who marks her womb, who Sora decides to toy with, who really controls the house… that all comes down to the tiny choices you click while your hand is already around your shaft, trying to decide if you want to feel guilty or just enjoy watching everything good rot from inside.