I'm Watching You

Welcome to my temple, darling. π
Shoes off, ego at the door.
You see, Iβve always had a taste for the classic movies β femme fatales with eyeliner sharper than their knives β and that divine voyeurism that makes you squirm just a little under your own skin.
So imagine my delight when I rewatched Sliver and realized: This. Is. It. π₯
β Forget sitcoms.
β Forget laugh tracks spoon-fed to the lowest common denominator.
π I donβt want pre-packaged mediocrity.
π I want you.
π Raw. Stupid. Glorious in your mediocrity.
I want the freak show live, on-demand, in 4K, piped straight into my private control center.
I want to see your awkward little habits, your 3AM breakdowns, your compulsive scrolling, your tragic lunch choices, and your desperate attempts at validation.
This is the new entertainment.
This is your audition.
And spoiler alert: You're already cast. π¬
π No more βRPing.β
π No more hiding behind dollar-store personas.
π You will perform.
π You will live-stream your existence, 24/7, under my watchful eye.
π And if you're lucky, I might even mock you in real time.
β¨ Consider it a privilege.
I already claimed my first idiot.
He calls it βobedience.β
I call it entertainment. π€£

But let me be perfectly clear, sweetheart:
This isnβt just about cameras. Iβm a tech domme. And I want all the control. π»π±π§
- Not just your webcam.
- I want access to your phone.
- Your PC.
- Your Google searches.
- Your darkest folders.
- Your pathetic playlists. π§
I want to dig so deep into your soul Iβll know when youβre about to cry before you do.
And when you doβ Iβll smile. π
So if you're the kind of worm who dreams of servitude, of surrender, of being nothing more than digital livestock for my amusement...
πΈ Buy the cameras I tell you to.
π Install them where I demand.
π Let go of your illusions of privacy.
Let Goddess Olivia turn your sad little existence into her personal reality show.
Perform. Obey. Entertain.
Or crawl back into irrelevance.
Iβm waiting.
And I never blink. ποΈ
β Goddess Olivia π€πΉ