The red bar is already half full and I haven't even done anything. Typical. Just like my last date where I spilled wine on her cat. This game, right? You're some kind of... spy? Handler? Doesn't matter. There's a woman and she's tied up and you poke her.

The first touch is always the stomach. It's the safest bet. The game gives you these little squiggly lines, like she's ticklish, and the green bar moves a microscopic amount. You think, okay, this is easy. Then you go for the obvious spot and the red bar fucking skyrockets. She makes this face. Not a good face. A "I will remember your face for the police report" face. My heart actually sank a little. Reminded me of when I tried to hold hands with Maria from accounting and she just stared at my fingers like they were slugs.

So you learn. You become a pathetic little green-bar farmer, gently prodding her shoulders, her knees. A real professional. Then the clothes come off and the game just throws a drawer of sex toys at you. No instructions. Just a vibe and a plug and something that looks like a cursed glow stick. The domination tag is no joke. You're not making love, you're filling a meter. You're a meter-filling technician. And if you mess up the rhythm? Red bar. She looks disappointed. I know that look. I've seen it from across a restaurant table when I mentioned my vintage spoon collection.

The undress part is weirdly the most human bit. It's clumsy. You're dragging the mouse and her shirt gets stuck on her elbow. It's not sexy, it's just... true. Then it's back to the cold efficiency of the toys. The green bar is almost full, you're in the zone, you forget she's even a person. She's just a progress bar with a pulse. And then you finish. The bars reset. She's still there, waiting. For what? Another cycle? A different toy? It's the emptiest feeling. Like swiping right and getting a match who just wants to sell you crypto. I need a cigarette and I don't even smoke.