A Silent Purge Begins
In the summer of 2025, a shift began in the digital shadows of the gaming industry quiet, almost imperceptible at first, but explosive in consequence. Hundreds of adult-themed video games disappeared from popular distribution platforms like Steam and Itch.io. No official statement was issued at first. No scandal broke in the mainstream media. But developers, adult content creators, and players knew something was wrong. Games that had been available for years some with thousands of positive reviews were suddenly gone.
What followed would reveal the immense, underacknowledged influence that financial corporations like Mastercard and Visa wield over online platforms not through regulation, not through law, but through economic coercion, silent pressure, and risk management policies cloaked in corporate vagueness.
How Did It All Start?
The flashpoint can be traced to a campaign by the Australian conservative group Collective Shout, known for its anti-porn, anti-sex-work activism. In mid-2025, the organization publicly called out several adult games distributed on Steam and Itch.io titles like No Mercy, Defenestration, and others accusing them of promoting or simulating non-consensual sex, incest, and other taboo themes. But their appeal wasn’t aimed at governments, regulators, or even the platforms themselves. They went for the throat: payment processors.
The group sent an open letter to Visa, Mastercard, PayPal, and Stripe, demanding they take action against platforms hosting such content. Almost immediately, ripples began to spread. These weren’t direct bans but they didn’t have to be. Instead, payment service providers quietly began warning their clients game marketplaces and platform operators that continuing to process payments for such content could constitute a violation of their internal risk policies.
Steam’s Policy Update and the Disappearance of Games
Steam, owned by Valve Corporation, responded quickly but not publicly. Developers began noticing changes in the Steamworks backend interface: newly added clauses warned that content “potentially violating payment processor terms” could not be published on the platform. No specific list of banned topics was offered. No appeal process was provided. Soon after, dozens then hundreds of games were removed from the storefront without explanation.
These games weren’t illegal. They had already passed Steam’s original content guidelines, which allowed erotic games with proper disclaimers and age gating. But now, the standards had shifted not based on legality, but on perceived risk to the platform’s financial relationships.
Valve later confirmed in private messages to developers and in internal communications that the pressure had come from their payment partners, who had warned them of “brand-damaging” associations. The most often cited clause was Mastercard’s Rule 5.12.7, which allows termination of relationships with merchants who risk “reputational harm” to the brand.
Itch.io’s Radical Move and the Creative Fallout
While Steam chose silence and stealth, Itch.io responded with sweeping caution. The indie-friendly platform, often celebrated for its support of LGBTQ+ creators and niche genres, pulled nearly all NSFW-tagged content from public visibility. Users could no longer find adult games even if those games had nothing to do with the controversial themes raised in the open letter. Many creators reported that their earnings were frozen, payouts delayed, and customer access to paid titles restricted.
Itch.io’s reaction was extreme, but not irrational. As a smaller, more vulnerable platform, they lacked the legal and financial muscle of Valve. Losing access to Mastercard or Visa payment rails would have been catastrophic. Faced with the threat of platform-wide deplatforming, Itch.io took the only action available: temporary censorship and an internal audit of all adult content.
This act sparked fury across the developer community. Many accused the platform of betrayal. But behind the scenes, Itch.io was scrambling to negotiate with payment intermediaries firms like Stripe and Braintree who had allegedly warned them of suspension unless they cleaned up.
Mastercard and Visa’s Vague Denials
Publicly, Mastercard and Visa denied any direct involvement. Their PR teams were quick to claim that they had issued no bans, imposed no content restrictions, and had no policy against “lawful adult content.” They insisted that platforms remained free to operate within the bounds of local law.
However, Valve’s internal correspondence contradicted this. In developer forums and leaked emails, representatives described being pressured via payment processors who had themselves been “advised” or “informed” by card network partners that continuing to process payments for controversial content could violate internal compliance rules.
In other words, the card networks didn’t say “ban this game.” But they made clear that associating their brand with controversial sexual content could result in merchant classification changes, account suspensions, or higher processing fees. For platform owners handling millions in transactions, that was pressure enough.
Wider Implications for Creative Freedom
The implications of this censorship-by-proxy model are chilling. The games that vanished weren’t illegal. Many had been available for years. They were rated as adults-only, often with rich narrative complexity, queer representation, or political commentary embedded in erotic frameworks.
By allowing payment processors to dictate which content platforms can safely host, the entire digital creative ecosystem becomes vulnerable to financial gatekeeping. Today it's incest-themed visual novels. Tomorrow it could be trans erotica, political satire, or kink-positive queer fiction. In fact, several developers reported that even LGBTQ+ romance games were caught in the purge simply for containing nudity or sexual situations.
This isn’t just about porn. It’s about what happens when economic infrastructure becomes the tool of ideological enforcement.
Who Decides What’s Too Offensive?
Here lies the crux of the issue: Mastercard and Visa aren’t governments. They don’t answer to voters or lawmakers. Their risk management policies are opaque, their standards arbitrary, and their appeals process non-existent for most creators. When they choose to withdraw services, they’re not legally required to explain themselves and platforms, fearing disruption, often comply without resistance.
That gives a handful of unelected, unaccountable financial institutions more practical power over speech and creativity than many governments. And unlike public censors, there is no way to challenge or reverse their decisions through democratic means.
Pushback and Resistance
The backlash has begun. Developers are organizing boycotts. Gamers have launched public awareness campaigns and letter-writing initiatives targeting Mastercard and Visa. Indie platforms are exploring cryptocurrency integrations and alternative payment networks to regain independence.
Most importantly, discussions have intensified around building decentralized distribution ecosystems not just to avoid censorship, but to escape monopolistic control over online expression.
At the same time, the incident has reignited calls for regulatory oversight of payment infrastructure companies. If these firms are going to act as cultural gatekeepers, some argue, they should be subject to the same accountability and transparency as public regulators.
A Future Defined by Financial Firewalls?
Whether this purge is the beginning of a wider trend or just a reactionary flashpoint remains unclear. But one thing is certain: the battle for artistic freedom in the digital age is no longer just a legal or cultural issue it’s an economic one. Control over financial infrastructure is becoming the new frontier of censorship.
When Mastercard and Visa can, without accountability, force companies to self-censor or risk financial exclusion, the entire architecture of creative freedom on the internet begins to rot from within. And unless creators, platforms, and users push back not just with outrage but with innovation the next purge may be even more sweeping.
