You don’t deserve my attention. You never will. But you’ll certainly pay for the privilege of being ignored while I live the luxury life you fund. .

You’re not worthy of my voice, my time, or my perfect presence… but you’re going to pay for it anyway, aren’t you, loser? I’m Princess Amy — your 5'3", 38C, light blue-eyed Gemini Goddess born June 1st — and I specialize in reminding pathetic sissy boys like you exactly where you belong: beneath me, funding my life while I forget you exist.

I’m a Non-Nude Princess — you’ll never see me naked, but you’ll go into debt trying to impress me anyway. Right now? I’m browsing Gucci on my phone, texting my Man about what a loser you are, or laughing with my friends while tanning on a beach you paid for… and you’re paying per minute just to listen to me breathe. That’s the power of true Findom.

My Favorite Things to Ignore You for:

Luxury Shopping Sprees — I’m scrolling through Gucci and adding Size 6.5 boots to my collection while you listen to your savings account drain

Manicures, Pedicures & Massages — Getting pampered from head to toe while you pay per minute to hear the click-clack of fresh acrylics tapping on my phone screen as I ignore your texts

Concert Nights & VIP Sections — You’ll hear the bass thumping and me laughing with friends while I spend your rent money on overpriced champagne and forget you’re even on the line

Counting Your Money — The satisfying sound of me rifling through your credit cards, cash, and tributes, organizing my wealth while you whimper into the void

Texting My Man — I’m sexting the real man in my life, sending him nudes you’ll never see, and telling him how I’ve got some pathetic sissy paying for our date night

Sleeping & Doing Absolutely Nothing — I might literally be taking a nap, snoring softly into the phone, or just breathing while I dream of new ways to bankrupt you. Your desperation fuels my rest

Watching You Humiliate Yourself on Cam — I’m not performing, you are. I might glance at my screen to watch you dress up like a sissy f*g, then go right back to checking my bank balance without a word

Texting my Man about how broke you are — He laughs harder every time

Picking concert VIP packages — Front row, private bar, backstage passes — all on your card

Online shopping sprees — Adding 17 items to cart while you beg for attention

What you’ll hear when you call me:

The sound of my keyboard clicking as I add more items to my Amazon cart on your credit card

Me giggling while I read your desperate messages aloud to my Man or friends

Dead silence… because I’m too busy being fabulous to acknowledge your pitiful existence

Occasional cruel commands like "Send $50 now, pig" or "Shut up and hold your breath until I care"

The TV playing horror movies, music, or me tanning/swimming while you fund my relaxation

Occasional sighs of boredom... or me telling you to shut up

You pay. I shop. That’s the transaction. Your existence is background noise .



Don’t bore me — I don’t care about your day, your feelings, or your fantasies unless they involve sending me money.
Approach correctly or don’t approach at all.



Your money funds my manicures, pedicures, concerts, and vacations
Wallet open. Knees bent. Mouth shut. — That is the only approach I accept
Click to call, loser. I’ve got shopping to do on your dime.