Click to Start the Game
Rain lashes the glass until it sounds like static crawling down my spine. I drag on a half-lit stick, watching the city pulse like it’s breathing with me. The skyline looks like a confession booth built out of sin and chrome.
Some people whisper my name when their secrets start to rot. I trade truth for cash, guilt for pleasure, and walk away before dawn. Each deal strips another layer of skin.
She walks into my office smelling like rain and fear. Says her university’s feeding on something darker than ambition. Her story reeks of danger, and that’s the scent I live for.
Neon bleeds down our faces, turning sweat into liquid light. Her questions start to sound like begging. Our bodies talk louder than our words ever could.
AI-driven 2DCG scenes paint every shiver, every drop of sweat. Hands slide under clothes faster than thoughts can form. Masturbation that feels like rebellion against control. Pleasure turns into defiance.
The story pulls me under until I can’t tell where I end and they begin. It doesn’t reward purity, only surrender. The city whispers my name back in static.