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It’s my birthday, so I get what I want and you’re going to work hard to give it to me. I’m not here to remind you I’m here to show you what I’m expecting.
*only listen to this if you can handle the truth* ~this is very harsh~ You wanted honestly. This is what it feels like. Stripped down truth, no comfort. No flattery. No escape. I’ll take apart the little stories you tell yourself and leave you standing in what’s real. It hurts. But it also cleans you.
Obedience isn’t silence. It’s the hum beneath stillness, the sound of restraint turning into devotion. I will guide you through the tension of Locktober, transforming the ache of denial into focus, patience, peace. Listen, breathe, and learn how beautiful it feels to wait.
You think your mind is private. It isn’t. I catch your thoughts as they form and turn them against you , until you can’t tell where you end and I begin. Each countdown takes you deeper into the quiet, where my words become the only ones that makes sense.
Just press play if you want to know why they keep coming back.
You thought you could think. You thought you could choose. But every word, every number, every breath, pulls you deeper. This is no lesson , it’s a trap. And you’re already inside. let go of your thoughts , your name, your resistance, in this spiral there’s no escape. Only surrender.
Every breath you take beneath Ivy’s rule is a privilege. This isn’t just another Wednesday it’s proof you’re still useful enough to serve. You’ve earned your place here, but for how long? Obedience is measured in action, not words. Complete your tasks. prove you belong. prove youre wilted.
Don’t worry. This isn’t a lecture, it’s a game! Today we’re going to turn obedience into an immersive experience. Small, real time tasks, whispered triggers and some instructions to carry you through the week. By the end, you’re not just listening. You’re acting. You’re trained. You’re mine.
Thoughtless Thursday isn’t decay. It’s erasure. I’ll take you past noise, past thought, into pure emptiness where my voice is the only anchor left.
The withering isn’t a moment it’s a process. This audio pulls you down petal by petal. Inch by inch, until devotion feels like decay and surrender becomes inevitable.
You wanted to be sure. You wanted to be right. But I make that impossible and delicious. I drag your certainty into a room, unpick it slowly, then sew a new hunger in its place. Confusion tastes like craving. Obedience arrives as surrender. Come, wanting to be whole and leave wanting only with my voice.