In a scorched, post-apocalyptic wasteland where fuel is power and engines are gods, the last true mechanic is captured by a fierce all-female war convoy.
He fights the chains… but not the pleasure.

A dark, gritty tale of survival, surrender, and the deadliest kind of addiction.


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A knock on the door changed everything. What came next pushed us underground, into fire, into blood, and straight through to something real. Sometimes the cleanest kills come wrapped in chaos. And sometimes, the only way forward is one room, one bed… and no lies left between us.

Sometimes the real danger isn’t the killer outside the walls. It’s the one already inside your circle.


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In a snowbound Norwegian cabin, a stranded writer surrenders to her quiet, commanding caretaker’s rules.

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Crackling fireplaces, thick wool blankets, steaming mugs of cocoa… and silk ropes hidden beneath the pillows. Tonight we wrap ourselves in the delicious paradox of cozy kink: BDSM, power play, and raw desire served with all the warmth of a Scandinavian winter night. Soft sweaters pulled over collared necks, floggings that end in cuddles, dominance whispered beside the glow of fairy lights, submission offered under heavy duvets. Learn to write scenes where safety meets surrender, comfort amplifies intensity, and aftercare is baked into the very atmosphere. We’ll master the art of turning knitted blankets into bondage, candlelight into sensory play, and quiet domesticity into the sexiest backdrop for filthy commands. Then curl up with an original story: a workaholic novelist escapes to a remote Norwegian cabin for solitude — only to find the gentle, bearded caretaker has been waiting to introduce her to the coziest kind of dominance she never knew she craved. Light the fire and dim the lights, my snug perverts. It’s time to get warm… and very, very wicked.

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When Captain Aggie Brice crash-lands on a forbidden, violet-stormed alien planet, she comes face-to-face with its most dangerous native.

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My insatiable darlings, desire isn’t always human — sometimes it’s scaled, tentacled, fanged, or forged from the stars. Tonight, in this lesson, we dive into the wild, untamed world of monster, alien, and shifter erotica, where the forbidden becomes irresistible and the “other” awakens our deepest primal cravings. I’ll show you how to craft lovers who are more than men — beasts that devour, aliens that claim, shifters that transform passion into something feral and unforgettable. Then, settle in for a scorching original tale: a human explorer crash-lands on a forbidden planet and discovers that the massive, horned alien warrior who finds her isn’t here to conquer the world… but to conquer her body in ways no human ever could. Grab your imagination and let your inner beast roar — it’s time to write the kind of heat that leaves claw marks on the soul.

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In the dark of the confessional, can regret and desire still burn hotter than guilt?

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People ask me all the time: "Isn't it hard being a female PI?" And I tell them the truth—it's easier. Because women are natural spies, and this city never sees us coming.

Here's what they don't teach you in PI school: the best disguise isn't a fake mustache, it's being a woman in a room full of men who think you're just decoration.


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This isn't a tour for tourists. It's a briefing. An intel drop. The kind of information you need if you're going to survive Ironveil, or investigate it.

So pay attention. Take notes. And remember: the House doesn't care if you're curious, desperate, or stupid. It only cares if you're willing to pay the price.

And trust me, the price is always higher than you think. And if you still want to cross that threshold after hearing it? Well, that's on you.

Welcome to the House.


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Oren came home. Foust invited me in. 
And in one second, nothing was the same. 
What happens when time stands still, but desire doesn’t?

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He’s been starving for touch for six long years. She’s the only guard who still believes he’s innocent.

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Hey lover… Vivia Volupta here, your erotic cult leader, certified hypersensual hypnotist, self-proclaimed sex sorceress, and emotional exorcist for those still haunted by “the one that fcked them up.”

In this episode, we’re diving headfirst into the male trauma vortex — a.k.a. what happens when a man gets wrecked by a wild woman with good p*ssy and unhealed rage... and never emotionally recovers.

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I thought I was building a home, new beds, new curtains, new lies to keep a wasteland boy close. But he locked his door. And a stranger in a perfect suit paid me to film myself sipping a drink at a bar, in the name of exquisite data.
One week of silence. One night of surrender.
And a whisper in the dark that changed everything.
I became the House Sub. Owned. Shared. And loving every filthy second.
But some games don’t end when the lights come up.
And some doors you open… lead straight to blood on your floor.

Come play. — Raven Saint Valentine


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New registration. New keys. New cult pulling at the man sleeping in the next room.
I gave a wasteland stray a home, a name, and my bed.
He gave me sweetness… until he found something that felt more like salvation.
Meanwhile, a stranger in a perfect suit paid me a fortune for a cake walk gig.
Some doors open easy.
Others lock from the inside.
The city keeps dealing new hands.
I’m still playing them all.
— Raven Saint Valentine
Pleasure Punk PI

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I finally start using the time device… and learn it’s a lot smarter than I am. At the same time, my life gets complicated by Oren Pike — a courier and an outsider, but somehow ends up beside me anyway. I ride along on his gig. He tags along on mine. Turns out, closeness is its own kind of risk. And just when I think I can breathe again, Kael shows up with Evelyn — self-righteous as ever. I’m not ready to deal with him.

Some doors you walk through.
Some doors walk through you.

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I thought one night as bait would buy me time.
Instead, I sold a piece of myself to the devil in a mask.
He knew my name before I begged.
And now the city knows I can be bought.
But the price was worth it.
The credits are burning a hole in my pocket.
The taste of him is burning hotter.
And the promise of next Friday… is the only thing keeping me from jumping timelines tonight.

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I thought being worshipped for three straight days would glue my shattered heart back together.
I was wrong.
The twins gave me everything I’d been starving for—endless, perfect, blissful devotion.
Until jealousy turned their pleasure and prayers into punishment.
One knock from the devil changed everything.
One rescue from the saint shattered it all.
The city’s closing in.

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Come closer, baby. Let me take you on a little tour of my city. Nine districts locked inside the wall, the Veins slithering underneath like the blood in my own veins.
Some places will make you come so hard you forget your name.
Others will make you bleed just for breathing.
All of them want a piece of me. 
This is my playground. 
And tonight… I’m showing you around. 
Get lost with me. …aha ha… oh yeah… 😈

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Come closer, baby. Let me take you on a little tour of my city. Nine districts locked inside the wall, the Veins slithering underneath like the blood in my own veins.
Some places will make you come so hard you forget your name.
Others will make you bleed just for breathing.
All of them want a piece of me. 
This is my playground. 
And tonight… I’m showing you around. 
Get lost with me. …aha ha… oh yeah… 😈

To accompany this episode, 
Watch the video via @EroticawithViviaVolupta Youtube: https://youtu.be/BFpkNjPrSUc?si=SylFVvP1JGgcm76X

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I thought the saint was finally ready to sin. His ex knocked. I walked out.
The monk twins were waiting. Three days of silk, incense, and endless worship. No back door. Everything else was theirs.
He found me thirty seconds too late. Now the cathedral doors are locked from the inside. And this goldfish just found God.

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