About this game
Linda's skirt is too tight. That's the first thing I notice, not the subway car or the weirdly clean floor. It's that pencil skirt, the kind that makes a woman walk like she's balancing a book on her head, and every step is a negotiation with the fabric. I'm watching her, this anime secretary with glasses that keep catching the fluorescent light, and I'm already thinking about how I'd choreograph a number around that skirt. A slow unzip, maybe, using my teeth while the audience holds their breath. The game just drops you there, no real setup, just Linda and her "complicated work" and you know immediately what kind of promotion she's after.
The art is rough, like someone sketched it on a napkin during a boring meeting and then decided, fuck it, let's color it in. Linda's proportions shift between scenes. One moment she's all legs, the next her chest is doing that anime thing where it defies both gravity and basic anatomy. It's not polished. It's not trying to be. There's a charm to it, like finding a dirty doodle in a textbook. You click through dialogue that reads like it was translated by a horny robot, and then you're touching her. The game calls it "interaction" but it's just clicking on glowing spots until her expression changes. I wish there was more build up, more of that subway setting. The train rattles in the background but it never really feels like a place, just a backdrop for Linda to bend over a seat.
She talks about her boss, about "special tasks," and her voice in my head is this breathy whisper that doesn't match the text on screen. I got distracted halfway through, thinking about pasties and how the adhesive never sticks right in humid weather. The game doesn't care. It just waits for you to click her blouse open. The whole thing is a quick, messy fantasy about a secretary who fucks her way up the corporate ladder, and it knows exactly what it is. No fake deep story, no pretending. Just Linda, her impossible body, and a subway car that's going nowhere.