Tagged With sex games


I have played too many games that treat trans, non-binary, and gender non-conforming characters as sexual objects. These games portray the lives and identities of marginalized, real-world people as little more than titillation for the (assumed cisgender) player.

Hard Coded is not that game. It is a story about dating trans people, written by trans people. It is not exploitative, but instead a reclaiming of sex-positive content about marginalised people.


There's something very saucy about playing sexy board games. It feels like redefining innocent childhood memories, like reading Harry Potter slash fiction where Ron and Malfoy get busy on the roof of the Hogwarts Express, or finding out that The Hunchback of Notre Dame was about Frollo having a raging anger-boner for Esmeralda.


Sometimes, I wish I could spend just a little time in the historical days of England. I’m not a huge fan of plagues, bread shortages, and the feudal system, but I do like courtly love—the chivalrous, disciplined romantic overtures that drove noble women wild with passion, lust, and the mystery of what came after all the handkerchief-waving and duels for their honour.


I was probably about 7 when I first realised there was some weird, fleshy mystery going on between my legs. At that age, you’re discovering a lot about yourself: how far you can run, how many Spice Girls lyrics you can learn in one evening, whether or not you can fit an entire roll of quarters in your nose — and now, a new thing, a strange part of your anatomy that you don’t yet understand. Like a light on your car’s dashboard that suddenly comes on, you figure it’ll be important later, and shove it to the back of your mind.


There are two main ways to talk about games: seriously, and light-heartedly. I like to write about things light-heartedly for a few main reasons: One, I like to make people laugh. Two, I’ve generally found that light-hearted writing makes people attack me less. Three, it’s much more fun to write humour.


Love Island is a British reality TV show in which several glistening, muscular men with sleeve tattoos and unaddressed anger issues are sent to a sunny island villa along with several glossy-haired, incredibly basic women who I’m pretty sure have their perma-bikinis sewn onto their skin, and are then expected to “couple up” in order to avoid being evicted.


Sometimes I wonder if writing about sex games has ruined me. It's certainly ruined my experience of Steam, given that my home page recommendations are now made up of roughly 50 per cent visual novels that are really just two-hour-long excuses to look at anime boobs.


Whenever someone starts talking about their guilty-favourite games on Twitter, they're usually thinking of something tame, like one of the weirder Metal Gears or that one Metroid that everyone thinks is bad.

But mine comes with a lot more guilt than most - an appropriately Catholic amount of guilt, in fact, because my guilty favourite is Dante's Inferno, a game based on the namesake epic poem that describes a journey into the depths of hell.