The character select screen is a mess. Not in a broken way, more like someone threw darts at a board of Quahog residents and said "yeah, those five." Meg's there with that permanent grimace, Lois doing her thing, and somehow the whole setup feels like a bootleg DVD menu from 2006. But then you click on Lois and the animation kicks in and suddenly you're not thinking about menu design anymore. Her proportions are completely wrong in exactly the right way. The artist clearly spent 80% of their time on her chest and the remaining 20% on everything else, including Meg's weirdly detailed feet during that one footjob scene.

The time travel plot is just an excuse to bounce between different versions of the same characters. Stu runs around messing with the past while Stewie's original plan falls apart, but honestly I stopped reading the dialogue boxes after the third scene. The handjob sequence with the neighbor character has this weird rhythm where the animation loops slightly too fast, like everyone's in fast forward, and it's genuinely distracting. But then the corruption mechanic kicks in and Lois starts saying things that would get Fox's legal team to nuke this from orbit. The vaginal scene with her has this one frame where her expression shifts and it's actually kind of unsettling in a way that works for the whole "influencing the past" thing they're going for.

The female domination stuff with Meg feels tacked on, like someone remembered she existed halfway through development. Her scenes have less polish than Lois's, rougher linework, but there's something about the pov angles during the blowjob sequence that makes up for it. The voyeurism tag makes sense once you realize half the scenes are framed through doorways or windows. Wish the corruption path had more branches instead of funneling everyone toward the same ending. The humor lands maybe 40% of the time, which is honestly better than the last three seasons of the actual show.

You embark on your greatest adventure: slay the beast of the forest, get the gold, and buy the gifts to conquer the Hooters.​

Red’s got this twitchy way of clicking on everything, like me when I’m three coffees deep and my browser tabs are a disaster. The motel sign flickers, half the bulbs dead, and I’m already thinking about that one creepypasta with the abandoned rest stop. You point, you click, you poke around dusty drawers and a jukebox that hasn’t played anything since disco died. The sandbox part means you just wander, no hand holding, and I spent a weird amount of time staring at a crack in the wall expecting a jumpscare. The horror tag is doing heavy lifting here, but it’s more of a slow rot than a scream. Like finding a hair in your soup but you keep eating.

Then the twins show up. Not actual twins, I don’t think, but the game calls them that and they’ve got this synchronized head tilt thing that made my skin crawl in a good way. One minute I’m trying to fix a toilet, the next I’m peeping through a keyhole because the game just lets you. Voyeurism isn’t a side quest, it’s the main course. Red’s a virgin, which is hilarious given how many massive, gravity defying grannies keep cornering him in the laundry room. The gilf tag isn’t lying. There’s a scene with a woman who looks like she bakes cookies for the church but then she’s negotiating prices and my brain short circuited. The prostitution mechanic is just... there. You click, she offers, you pay. No romance, just transaction. Felt grimy, but I kept clicking.

The trap character, oh man. I thought I was being clever, pursuing what I assumed was a shy milf with a secret. The reveal wasn’t a big dramatic cutscene, just a text box and a new angle on the 2D art. I laughed, then I kept going because by that point the desert had already fried my morals. The big asses are everywhere, bouncing with a physics that doesn’t match the unpolished art style at all. The dialogue is full of typos, like someone typed it on a phone with greasy fingers. I got stuck in a loop trying to trigger a hidden ending with the motel owner, clicking the same cactus five times. Why is there a cactus? The story is about familiar faces and town secrets, but honestly I forgot why Red was even there. Something about a paycheck. The real horror is the menu screen, which looks like a PowerPoint slide from 2003. I’m still not sure if I found a bug or a feature when the screen went black for ten seconds and then I was suddenly in a basement with no pants.

I keep thinking about the inventory screen. Not the dolls, not the missing sister plot that the game keeps insisting is important, but the way your character's phone buzzes with messages from Jackson and you can just... ignore them. There's something about that tiny mechanical choice that sets the whole tone better than any of the hardcore scenes. You're in Japan on an exchange program, Julie's there, Alice is there, everyone's supposed to be looking for Vanessa who vanished three years ago, but the game lets you scroll past the concerned texts and open a browser to shop for restraints instead. That's the vibe.

The Love Dolls company makes these impossibly realistic androids. The game tells you this like it's a mystery to solve, but you figure out what's actually happening to the missing women roughly twelve seconds after the first "doll" appears on screen. Your character, this 19 year old guy who can't even confess to his crush, somehow ends up in situations where he's dominating women who may or may not be reprogrammed humans. The cognitive dissonance is almost funny. One minute you're stammering around Julie, the next you're in a scene that would make the most dedicated hentai collector raise an eyebrow. The game doesn't ease you in so much as shove you off a cliff.

The 3DCG models have that particular stiffness where the joints don't quite bend like actual human bodies, but honestly that almost works for the doll theme. The milf character, who I think is supposed to be someone's mother or teacher or both, has proportions that defy physics in a way that's either a bug or a feature depending on your tolerance for the absurd. There's a school setting that exists mostly as a backdrop for groping scenes, and a bunch of sex toy mechanics that I still don't fully understand the upgrade path for. The male domination stuff gets intense fast, like the writers had a checklist of kinks and just started ticking boxes without worrying about whether the story could support them. Anal, BDSM, humiliation play, it's all there, animated with varying degrees of success. Some scenes have this almost hypnotic rhythm to them, others feel like watching mannequins collide.

I wish the game trusted its own weirdness more instead of pretending there's a coherent investigation happening. The best moments are when it stops caring about the plot and just leans into the fetish content, which is what anyone downloading this is actually here for anyway.

The whole thing is a mess of neon and panic, right from the corrupted upload. My consciousness is glitching into a new sleeve, and the only thing keeping me from flatlining is... well, let's just say my crewmates have very hands-on medical training. The game doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is, a desperate scramble to keep a heart beating through increasingly intimate means. I spent way too long in the character creator, honestly. You can tweak the protagonist's look, but the real focus is on the crew, specifically one with short, colored hair and proportions that defy the cyberpunk dystopia's apparent resource scarcity. Big tits, big ass, the whole futanari package if you toggle that option. The customization feels weirdly deep for a game that's basically a medical emergency turned sexual.

There's this one scene where the crewmate is just groping you, trying to stimulate a response, and the 2D art style makes every frame feel like a grimy, stolen datashard. It's not polished. The linework is rough, the colors bleed into each other like a bad screen, and I think that's the point. It's a corrupted upload, a dying brain's last sparks. The sci-fi setting is just a backdrop for female domination, where your survival depends entirely on their willingness to get you off. I wish there was more dialogue, more of that panicked, clinical chatter you'd expect in a trauma bay, but it's mostly just the wet sounds and the visual of a big, futa cock pressing against your unresponsive body. The game forgets it's in the future sometimes, no fancy tech solutions, just old-fashioned friction.

The whole experience is like a first date where you immediately have a seizure and your date has to frantically jerk you back to life. No small talk, just pure, messy survival. The long-term relationship is the realization that you'll keep coming back to this corrupted file, hoping for a different outcome, but the upload always fails the same way. Dare to play it alone, or invite company? I don't know, man, my neighbor's wifi is called "SURVEILLANCE_VAN" and that feels like the right vibe for this.

Captain Ruby has a problem. Her tits won't stop growing. Not like a little swelling, I mean they're actively inflating while she's trying to bark orders at her crew. The Ruby Diamond is anchored off some tropical island and the captain's chest is literally expanding through her coat. Trevor, the only guy on board, just stands there with his mouth open. Can't blame him really.

The whole premise is absurd and the game knows it. You make choices that somehow always circle back to boob expansion. Feed a crew member some weird island fruit? Growth spurt. Fail to navigate properly? Somebody's shirt buttons become projectiles. The 3DCG models are deliberately over the top, like someone took the sliders in a character creator and just kept dragging right. Camilla and Simone, the other crew members, start out with already ridiculous proportions and then the transformation mechanics kick in. There's this one scene where Simone tries to climb the rigging and physics just... give up. She's stuck. The game treats this as a serious navigation crisis.

I wish the ship itself had more to do. You're on a pirate vessel but mostly you're just clicking through dialogue while standing in the same three locations. The island exploration opens up a bit but it's still just a backdrop for more growth sequences. The humor lands sometimes, like when Ruby threatens to make someone walk the plank but can't see the plank anymore because of her own chest. Other times it's just characters stating the obvious about their situation.

The choice system pretends to matter. Pick option A, someone's boobs get bigger. Pick option B, someone else's boobs get bigger but with a different flavor text. There's no fail state, no real branching. Just different flavors of expansion. The transformation tag is doing heavy lifting here, it's not shapeshifting into animals or anything creative, it's just the same body part getting progressively more unwieldy. At one point I clicked through three identical dialogue trees and got the same outcome each time. The game didn't care. I didn't care. We were all just waiting for the next physics-defying moment.

So there I was, scrolling itch.io at like whatever o'clock, right? Not looking for anything deep, just something to get the blood flowing, and I stumble on this thing. Pandemic story, huh. Felt almost too real for a second, that foxes flu premise, but then you see the tags. Big tits, cheating, paranormal survival horror. What a fucking combo. The brother's fiancee is stacked, obviously, the 3DCG models are that specific kind of unpolished where the skin looks a bit waxy but the proportions are dialed in for maximum effect. Her ass is a weapon. And the whole setup is just them, this lake house, and the creeping dread that something's in the water.

The first real scene, the one that got me, she's in the kitchen. The power's flickering, the generator's humming outside like a dying heartbeat. She's wearing these tiny shorts, and she bends over to check a low cabinet, and the animation kicks in. It's not smooth, it's got that jerky, almost robotic loop to it, but the way the light catches the curve of her... goddamn. The protagonist just watches, and the kinetic novel style means you don't get a choice. You just have to sit there and soak in the tension. She catches him looking, and instead of getting mad, she just smirks. Starts this slow, teasing masturbation right there on the counter, fingers tracing lazy circles while she talks about how scared she is, how she needs a distraction. The voice acting is non-existent, it's all text and those looping animations, but my brain filled in the wet sounds just fine. The cheating angle isn't some grand betrayal, it's just this grimy, inevitable thing born from isolation and fear.

Gameplay? It's a kinetic novel, so you're just clicking through. Sometimes the horror bits feel like they were made in a different engine, weird camera angles and a monster design that's more goofy than scary. The survival stuff is mostly them arguing about supplies and then fucking. The animated scenes are few, they repeat, and the sound design is just a few looping ambient tracks that cut out abruptly. But that unpolished jank? It kind of adds to the whole sleazy, forbidden vibe. Like finding a weird VHS tape. You don't know why you keep watching, but you do. The lake's secret is some half-baked eldritch thing, but honestly, I was just waiting for the next time she'd find an excuse to get naked. It's a mess. A hot, glitchy mess that knows exactly what it is.

"Society destroyed" is the adventure of Matt a young soldier who returned home after a tragical succes in his life.
In society destroyed you take the decision in Matt, every descion may affect the future of the game.​

The soundtrack in Kindvixens is like someone left a smooth jazz radio station in a blender with a broken music box. It loops weirdly, cuts off mid phrase sometimes, and I swear one track is just a slowed down version of that royalty free song from every 2016 YouTube apology video. But when you're clicking through dialogue with the baker, this older woman whose apron is fighting a losing battle against physics, the off kilter piano actually works. It makes everything feel a bit drunk, a bit hazy, like the whole town of Seabreeze has been day drinking.

The game doesn't care about polish. The 2D art has these weird proportions where everyone's chest enters the room a full second before the rest of them. You play a guy who just... arrives. And suddenly twelve women need your help with their problems, their bodies, the mysterious fog that's making people forget things. The sandbox structure means you wander between a diner, a beach, some houses, clicking on whoever's available. There's a fishing minigame that I still don't understand. You just tap and sometimes get a fish, sometimes get nothing. Like real fishing, I guess, but with less existential dread and more loading screens.

Top 3 Moments You'll Want to Screenshot. One, the librarian scene where she's "reorganizing the top shelf" and the dialogue options are all variations of staring respectfully. Two, any time the survival mechanics kick in and your character gets tired, which just means the screen dims slightly and you have to go sleep in your free apartment. It's so half baked I kind of love it. Three, the mayor's assistant, a redhead with an ass that defies municipal zoning laws, has this teasing sequence where she keeps promising information about the mystery but gets distracted by how tight her skirt is. The writing is dumb as rocks but it knows exactly what it's doing. The harem builds slowly, or quickly if you ignore the mystery entirely and just pursue the milf who runs the motel. Her scenes have this grainy filter that makes everything look like a VHS tape found in a basement. Deliberately unpolished, remember? The game wears its jank like a badge of honor.