And This Would Be My Problem Why?

Ring ring!
Me: hello?
Caller: Is this Mistress Matisse?
Me: Yes…
Caller: Uh, hi, I have a question I was wondering if you could help me with?
Me: Okay – what is it?
Caller: It's sort of a problem, really.
Me: O-kay, what is it?
Caller: I don't really know if you're going to be able to help me at all.
Me: Well, my psychic powers don't seem to be working today, so we'll never know unless you actually tell me what it is.
Caller: Oh, right, okay. So, uh – I've been seeing this Mistress, right? I saw her a couple of times, and it was okay – I mean, not great, but she told me she was right about to get a really cool dungeon, with a lot more equipment, except she was in kind of a money bind, right?

Oh, I'm hating this story already. I bet I could tell him the rest of this sad little tale, and probably more succinctly.

Caller: So she asked if I would pre-pay for the next couple of sessions, and I said okay, and I gave her the money. But when I called her again, her phone number had been disconnected.
Me: Mm-hmm. Have you tried emailing her?
Caller: Yes, but it bounced.
Me: Okay, so what is it that you want from me?
Caller: Well, I was wondering if you could tell her to call me. Her name is Mistress FlimFlam.
Me: What? Honey, how would I tell her anything? I don't know this person.
Caller: She said she knew you.
Me: Well, she lied. I've never heard of her.
Caller: But she said she knew you!
Me: (heavy sigh) Look, I have no idea who this person you're talking about is, but it's entirely possible that she has been in the same room with me at some fetish event. It's even barely possible that she's been introduced to me by a different name. It's a small town for kinky people. However, she's no friend of mine, and I certainly don't have any information about her whereabouts.
Caller: But she's got my money! I pre-paid for three sessions – five hundred dollars!

Five hundred for three sessions? Apparently one of your cut-rate dominatrixes. Why am I not surprised?

Me: Well, you have my sympathy, but I think you're just out of luck.
Caller: But- but- can't you do something? Like, ask around or something?

He's taking an unattractively whiny tone here, and I don't like it.

Me: Honey, I'm a pro dom, not a private detective. No.
Caller: I thought, you know, you'd want to take care of this, since you're, like, a big deal around here and stuff.
Me: Uh - no. No, I can't say I have the slightest urge to "take care of this".
Caller: Because it will make you other pro doms look bad, you know. I thought you'd have some kind of code of honor about it.

Oh great, whiny and manipulative - my favorite. And this notion that pro doms would somehow be self-policing sounds like his wank fantasy. I can see the porn DVD box now - "Teaching The Bad Mistress A Lesson" or "Pro-Dom Gang-Bangers Enforce Discipline".

Me: No, it's your problem - you shouldn't have given her the money. Consider it an expensive lesson learned, and next time go see an established Mistress instead of some fly-by-night wanna-be.
Caller: But it costs too much money!
Click.
I hang up.