Sia sauntered into the upscale restaurant, her hips swaying hypnotically with each step. At only 20 years old, the college coed had already honed her seductive charms and was living the high life as a findom princess. Men were so hopelessly enthralled by her beauty and brazen attitude – they would do anything, pay anything, just to bask in her glorious presence.
Sia slid into her usual booth, crossing her long legs and flashing a wicked grin at the awestruck waiter. “Hello there handsome,” she purred, running a perfectly manicured finger down his trembling arm. “I’ll take a champagne cocktail, and make it snappy. You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
The waiter stammered and blushed, bowing his head. “R-right away, Miss Sia.” He scurried off, leaving her in peace to survey her kingdom.
Sia’s phone buzzed – another pathetic simp begging for her attention. She smirked as she read the message, then responded:
“Hey prince. Daddy’s little girl needs some new Louboutins today. Venmo me $1000 and maybe I’ll let you worship my feet later. Maybe.”
She pressed send and tossed her phone aside, not waiting for a response. She knew he would pay. They always did. Sia was a master of manipulation, and her body was built for sin. Wide hips, perky tits, and a face that could launch a thousand ships (or drain a thousand bank accounts). Men didn’t stand a chance against her.
The waiter returned with her drink, setting it before her with a shaky hand. “This is on the house, Miss Sia. Anything else I can get for you?”
Sia took a sip of the bubbly, her eyes hooding with lust. She reached out and grabbed his belt buckle, pulling him closer. “Oh I can think of a few things,” she breathed. “But they’ll have to wait until my sugar daddies pay up for the night. If you’re lucky, I might let you get in on the action. For a fee of course.”
The poor man nearly swooned, stumbling backwards in a daze. Sia threw back her head and laughed, a wicked, sensual sound. She was a goddess, and she knew it. The world was her playground, and she would take what she wanted, when she wanted it.
Her phone buzzed again – two more simps ready to pay their tribute. Sia grinned, selecting the messages one by one.
“Daddy, I need…” she dictated into the microphone, her voice dripping with honey. “An Hermès handbag. Size doesn’t matter, just make it red. You know how much I love red.”
She hit send, then swiped to the next.
“You may come worship tonight. Wear a suit, bring flowers. Tip is $500. Don’t be late.”
Signed, sealed, delivered. Just another day in the life of a findom princess. Sia tossed her phone in her bag and stood, ready to take on the world. Or at least, the simps who populated it.
Broke boys need not apply! Eewww.
