I’m a writer, a novelist. I’ve been fairly successful. Once I made the Times bestseller list for three weeks. They even made one of my thrillers into a movie starring Matt Damon.

Both my fans and critics agree my books were thoroughly researched. For Top of the World, I actually visited Spitsenbergen and Novaya Zemalya so that I could paint an accurate picture of the Arctic for the reader.
 
For my next project (working title: The Saskatoon Affair) I had the idea adding a sub-plot with a Financial Dominatrix, but the research was going a bit slow.

For obvious reasons, I couldn’t find any subs who wanted to talk about their experiences.

There was a rumor that Amazon.com does a good deal of business in wish list purchases and gift certificates for these “Money Mistresses.” But no one at the company would return my calls.

I googled some sites and sent the links for  a few dozen financial-domme and related websites to my assistant Tony, an MFA student at Villanova. I asked him to go about setting up some interviews.

He actually had some success. He came back with a schedule of four calls he was able to arrange. At the top of the list was MsZusa.

I remember not being overly impressed with her. Her website indicated she was more interested in erotic hypnosis. I mentioned this to Tony.

He gave me a curious look, and his face went blank. In an even tone he said, “It’s important you to talk to her. And talk to her first. She’ll give you exactly what you need.” 

He already made the schedule, so I decided to stick to it. If MsZusa proved to be a bust for the information I was looking for, I’d apologize and cut the call short.

The next morning at the appointed time with my notebook by my side, (I’ve always used black and white composition books, since I started writing.) my phone rang.

I answered and a female said “This is Zusa.”

“Zusa, this is James. Thanks for taking time out of your busy day to chat with me.”

“Well, James you are quite lucky. Usually men have to pay a pretty penny to talk with me, but Tony was such a dear on the phone that I made an exception for you.”

I wasn’t sure what a hypno-domme or financial domme would sound like. I guess I had imagined some sort of breathy Marilyn Monroe voice. But MsZusa had a unremarkable if pleasing tone. No accent. Perfect diction. She almost sounded like one of those voice over disclaimers for pharmaceutical ads.

“Like I said ‘Thanks.’ I just wanted to get some insight into how Financial Domination works. What’s your life like? How did you come to this? That sort of thing…”

“Well it started in high school. Not the hypnosis or the money slavery. But when a girl learns how easy it is to manipulate boys, she starts to see just how far she can push them.”

“For example?”

“You’re good with words. Writers tend to be shy. Imagine a pretty cheerleader asking you to write her term paper while she goes out on a date with the captain of the football team.”

“Well that never happened to me –

“But, something close to it did,” said Zusa. It was not a question.

"It was the same in college. I went to (Ivy League School, specific name withheld to protect MsZusa’s privacy)  where I double majored in English and Psychology, which by the way are excellent subject for aspiring dommes to study. I had more than one professor and grad student wrapped around my finger. Not that I needed their assistance. I graduated summa cum laude.”

“But this has nothing to do with hypnosis or being a domme?”

“Correct, I was enjoying the natural power women have over men, but it wasn’t supplemented with anything else.”

“After college I landed a job with an advertising firm in Boston. Knowing what made men tick allowed me to rise quickly through the ranks. I was even responsible for one of the most popular Super Bowl commercials of all time. You probably remember it. The beer commercial with the Dalmatian and the Siamese kittens?”

I laughed. “That was a good one.”

“Yes it was. Unfortunately my meteoric rise can crashing down in the Great Recession. At that time I took a hard look at me and my life. I decided I was tired of using my skills to convince people to buy more beer, razor blades and sports cars.

“Rather than look for another job in corporate America, I decided to pursue a more calling that was more personally rewarding. I enrolled in a Clinical Hypnotherapy program and earned my CHt.”

“With my love of words and my background in Psychology and Marketing I was a natural. I had a little office where I helped real people with real problems. Weight loss, smoking cessation, phobias, relationship, and personal improvement in all areas.”

“Okay, so you’ve learned hypnosis, how did that lead you to become a domme.

“One night I was out drinking with one of the girls I met when I was studying for my CHt. She had a little too much to drink and spilled a secret. She was making money as a phone sex operator. Specifically she was a hypno-domme. She said she thought I’d be a natural. So on a lark I created a website and a NiteFlirt profile.

“I had my very first caller entranced in ten minutes. In twenty he pledged his undying devotion to me. I was hooked.
 
“Naturally, I began to push the envelope. I found toys who needed a little something more to make their service feel complete. So I give them a schedule to send me some cash.”

“Wow,” I said. “How much money are we talking about here?”

“Well, it depends on the toy. I have one very good boy who runs a hedge fund. His tributes are orders of magnitudes greater than some of my civil service pets. I don’t ruin my toys, but it’s important that the tributes sting a bit. They have to give up some luxuries, so that I can enjoy mine.

“But I want to be perfectly clear. I don’t turn just any man into one of my financial pets. I’ll only do it, if I think it’s in their best interest and they willingly consent.”

“Interesting, an ethical financial-domme.”

She giggled. “Of course, when I decide it is what they need, they always agree. And I’ve found enough toys that I can support myself in the style I’ve become accustomed to without having to engage in any other sort of work.”

I scribbled furiously. This was pure gold. An ethical dominatrix, who drains her clients’ bank accounts for their own good.

I glanced at my watch. The call had taken much longer than I had planned, and I supposed to call my agent at the top of the hour.

I thanked Zusa for her time and her insights.

“Oh surely, we’re not done?” she said.

“You’ve been more than generous with your time and I’ve got a real insight into my character now.”

“Yes, but what about the toys?

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve talked about me, but we haven’t explored the mind of my submissives. What is it about minds and make-up of these men that compels then to act this way? Don’t you want your book to feel authentic?”

Zusa: master manipulator of men’s minds, including mine.

“Of course,” I agreed. “What can you tell me about their motivations, their background?”

“Oh, I can do better than that. How would you like to experience firsthand what they feel?”

I gulped. This could get out of hand very quickly.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Just a simple trance.”

“I’m not sure.”

“I promise. The effects will disappear after thirty minutes. And remember I am the ethical hypno-domme.”

The way she explained it, her suggestion did make sense.

“Okay, I consent, but 30 minutes later back to normal. Now what do I need to do?”

“Why nothing more than what you’ve been doing all along….Just listen to my voice….So easy to listen to my voice….So peaceful…So relaxing…..Just drift and relax and began to float away…

“Float away on my words…..Floating….Relaxing….Drifting….Peaceful….No cares…No worries….Just listen to my voice and go deeper….Deeper with every breath…Deeper with every word….So deep now….going even deeper….

“And as I count down you’ll feel yourself go twice as deep with every number…and when I reach 1, you’ll fall into deep, deep trance….

“10…So relaxed….9…Falling Deeper…8….My voice enchants you….7…Mind so empty….6…Feels so good….5…So deep now….4…Falling deeper….3…So empty, so helpless….2…So blank and mindless….1….Deep Sleep Now!”



************************************************************************


“Wide awake now!” I heard her fingers snap.

I opened my eyes. “I don’t think anything happened.”

“Really?” she replied. “How do you feel right now?”

I felt relaxed, but energized. Peaceful, but powerful, as if I could take on anything.

“Actually, now that you mention it, I feel good. No make that great.” I paused. Every moment my sense of well-being was increasing. “Now I feel absolutely fabulous!”

“Very good. And how do you feel about me?”

I was thunderstruck. In an instant I was on my knees. Into the phone I proclaimed without thought or reflection, “I adore MsZusa, I am hers to command. I am her pet and plaything!”

She laughed. And her laughter was the single greatest sound I had ever heard. Until she said, “Good boy!”

My body shook with pleasure. I tried to speak, but couldn’t catch my breath. I just wheezed.

“Relax, my pet. And go quiet,” she commanded.

I became silent and motionless.

“I am very pleased with your progress so far. You are a very good subject. But I wish to continue this conversation in person. You are to meet me in the restaurant of the Boston Hilton at 6pm on this Friday. Do you understand?”

“Yes, MsZusa.” My body exploded with ecstasy as I spoke the words. I couldn’t help but cry out.

“It seems, my pet, you’ve learned the pleasure of saying ‘Yes’ to me, haven’t you?”

“Yes, MsZusa.” I didn’t so much as cry this time as whimper. I was no longer kneeling. I was curled up on the floor as my body spasmed.

“And I understand you have other hypno-dommes you have scheduled interviews with. You won’t make any calls until after we have met. Is that clear?

“Yes, MsZusa.” I shook uncontrollably. I was hyperventilating and on the verge of passing out.

“Good boy. You are dismissed for now.” I heard a click as she disconnected.

My body shook. She had called me her ‘Good boy” again! And I wanted to be her ‘Good boy.” I need to be her ‘Good boy.” And now I was going to meet her in person. I wasn’t sure if I was worthy. And I was most undeserving of her attention. But she demanded my presence and I had to obey.

Once I recovered, I cleared my schedule and booked my flight.

And true to her word, half an hour later the feeling was gone. The excitement, the rush of saying “Yes” to her no longer existed.

But I remembered how good it did feel. And I was desperate and determined to feel that way again.


 
************************************************************************

Three days later I was in the restaurant of the Boston Hilton. It was 6:30 and I was on my third screwdriver. Did I remember the hotel wrong? Did I get the wrong day? I was filled with self-doubt.

Suddenly, the somewhat noisy restaurant grew quiet. I turned and see a stunning woman, walking - no more like swaying - through the tables and approaching me. As she made her way across the room, all the men (and women) stopped, turned and stared.

An orange cotton racerback tank clung to her body displaying every curve. An impossibly short denim skirt revealed perfectly tanned thighs. Shiny high-heeled black boots stopped just below her knees.

She shimmered in silver. Her black belt carried an over-sized silver buckle. Dangling from her ears were silver hoops. Hanging from a chain necklace, was a silver heart nestled between her two breasts.
 
Her light brown hair rested on her shoulders. But her eyes, I couldn’t see her eyes; she was wearing sunglasses.

She stood before me and removed her glasses. Dark brown eyes looked me over. She placed her hands on her hips and said in her angelic voice, “Good evening, James. I am Zusa.”

I began to stand, but bumped the table and spilled my drink. I tried to clean up my mess. I turned to her and this time bumped into my chair. “S-sorry, Zusa. I-I’m not usually this clumsy.”

“Or nervous, I suppose,” she said with a grin. “I like to call this my “casual hypno-domme” look.” She spun around like a supermodel. “Do you approve?”

“Yes, Zusa. You look absolutely lovely. Or maybe dazzling is a better word.” It did feel good to be in her presence. But the rush from saying ‘Yes’ wasn’t there.

“Thank you, James.”

She took a seat and the waiter arrived. Like everyone else he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She ordered a margarita, and he reluctantly left.

“So, James, what more did you want to ask me?”

I’m not sure what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. She was sitting across from me, looking so angelic, so irresistible. I wanted to adore her, to worship her, to feel as I did when we were on the phone.

I had no questions prepared, but I picked up by notebook and pretended like I did. My mind raced to think of a question.

 “Um, back in college, did you ever experiment with hypnosis with any male subjects?”

She stared at me, and said nothing.

“Maybe, there was an incident in high sc….” I trailed off. She stared at me with her deep brown eyes. I wanted so desperately to lose myself in those eyes.

“We’ve covered all of this already, James. I think there’s one question in particular, you want to ask. Isn’t there?”

Was it possible she knew what I was thinking? Of course it was! She’s got who knows how many pets and toys on a string, manipulating them, dominating them. Why would I be any different? It was clear she wanted me to ask.

“Could you hypnotize me again?”

Her eyes locked on to mine. I felt their power pushing against my mind.

She responded, “Could you hypnotize me again, Mistress?”

I didn’t know what would happen next. But that didn’t matter. I needed her control. I needed to be in her trance. Ignoring the fear, I spoke the words knowing that my life would change forever. “Could you hypnotize me again, Mistress?”

She smiled broadly. “All you had to do was ask.” She snapped her fingers. “Deep Sleep Now!”


********************************************************************                          



“Awake now my robotic slave!”

My eyes opened on command. My mind was different somehow. Heavy.

“Rise up. It’s time to continue our ‘talk’ in your room.”

My arms and legs were as heavy as my mind. I rose out of my chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the check. I’d tipped the waiter 40%. I had no memory of this, but was also completely unconcerned.

She whispered in my ear, “Good robot. Now let me guide you.”

She took my hand and led me out of the restaurant. My gait was slow. My legs must have  weighed 1,000 kilograms each. We reached the elevators in the lobby. I stared ahead. No questions. No emotions. Just awaiting her next commands.

The elevator arrived. She guided me in. An older couple stepped on as well.

Another whisper in my ear. “Tell these people, what you are and whom you belong to.”

I responded involuntarily. “I am a James, an automated robotic slave. My owner is Mistress Zusa, of Arlington, Massachusetts.” My voice sounded more mechanical than I remembered.

The couple exchanged worried glances and exited at the next floor.

MsZusa bursted out laughing. “What will they tell their neighbors about the depravity that is Boston?”

We exited on my floor and MsZusa steered us down the hall. She had my keycard, and quickly we were in my room.

She looked me over and commanded, “Less robot, more worshipful adoration,” and snapped her fingers.

I fell to my knees before her. I gazed upwards and saw for the first time, she was more than a beautiful woman and an amazing hypnotist. She truly was a Goddess.

“Mistress Zusa. No, Goddess Zusa.  I am eternally grateful to even be allowed to kneel in your awesome presence. If I might worship your boots, or even kiss them, it would be the greatest honor and privilege ever.”

“Hmmm. I don’t think you’ve quite earned that, yet my pet. But do feel free to worship the ground, or in this case the carpet I walk on.”

“Yes, of course Mistress. This carpet that lies beneath you is surely the most glorious thing in this entire universe, save for yourself, Goddess. That you have chosen to stand upon it has transformed mere fibers into the most holiest of all objects….”

I continued praising the carpet. For how long I do not know. Minutes, hours, days? It did not matter.

“Bored now,” MsZusa announced. “Stand up with your back to the bed.”  I complied immediately.

“And you will find that you are quite unable to move.” She flashed an evil grin. “Frozen. Like a statue.”

And as she said the words, they became true. I could not move.

She traced a silvery nail across my chest.

“You wanted to know about me? My motivations?”

Her nails were no longer light on my chest. She dug them in.

“Power. The power over men’s minds. To make them think and act and feel as I please, and for no other reason that it amuses me!”

The nails were digging deep now. I felt blood dripping on my chest. But I was unable to even wince.

“Prepare for the greatest mind-fuck of all times.” And she pushed me on to the bed.

She jumped on and straddled me. I looked up and saw her wicked smile. Her tank top could barely contain her breasts. In her eyes I glimpsed raw power and the desire to use it ruthlessly.

“Going down deep, my pet. Deeper than you ever thought possible….

“5….So helpless…

“4….So empty….

“3….So mindless…

“2….So weak….

“1….So mine….

“Deep Sleep Now!”

                         *                            *                                *
Images….Eyes…Legs…Breasts…Lips

Echoes…

A wall being taken apart…brick by brick….

Evil laughter….

Falling deeper…

Shiny boots…

Changes…..

A leash…

A new wall is built….

An empty wallet…

A dark cave…

More changes….

Peace and contentment…

************************************************************************

“…5…Wide awake now!”

My body was heavy and weak. I couldn’t move. My head rested on its side. I opened my eyes and I saw her sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Now I think you have a complete understanding of what my slaves are feeling, don’t you?”

I tried to answer, but mouth wouldn’t open.

She sensed my trouble. “Oops, sorry.” She waved her hand. “You may now speak.”

“Am I now one of your money slaves?”

She frowned and I felt a chill.

“I told you, James. Only those men who specifically ask, and to whom I think it is in their best interests become my money slaves.”

I stared at her. My head still spun, but I knew what I must do.

“Do you want me to ask to be your financial slave?”

She broke out in a huge grin. “Oh, you want me to tell you what to do! You are making such excellent progress.” She reached across the bed and caressed my cheek. She looked into my eyes and said, “Yes, I think it would be best for you if you joined my stable of financial pets.”

Without hesitation I replied, “Mistress Zusa, may I be one of your financial slaves?”

“Of course, my pet,” she beamed. “Here’s the first step. You can get up now.”

She helped me rise from the bed. I was still a bit wobbly. She led me to a desk. On it were a stack of papers entitled “Zusa’s Financial Disclosure Forms.”

“Now be a good boy, sit down and fill out these forms as best you can,” she instructed. “If you can’t remember what is asked for, just skip and go on the next request. No need to bother me.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Oh, and I’ll need your wallet.”

I handed it over. No questions asked.

She smiled and it gave me a thrill.

I turned back to the documents.

There were questions about bank accounts, stocks and bonds, real estate holdings, copyright royalties, usernames and passwords for online accounts, even my airline miles and rewards points.  Mistress Zusa certainly was thorough. I filled it out as best I could, but there were some obscure questions and requests that I couldn’t possibly answer.

In the background I heard her melodious voice. She was making a reservation at one of Boston’s priciest and most exclusive day spas with my AmEx card.

The routing number for my checking account? I wasn’t even sure what a routing number was. I wished to complete the form as best as possible. I wanted to ask her, but remembered her injunction.

Now she was booking a flight to San Francisco, still using cards from my wallet.

I finished the forms. I sat quietly. I was not bored. I felt quiet satisfaction that I had obeyed her instructions and accomplished my task. I waited patiently for her.

After a few more purchases on the phone, she returned her attention to me.

“All done, James? Good boy!”

A wave of pleasure flowed through me and I smiled reflexively.

“Now, I suspect you’re feeling a great attraction for my feet. You’d just simply want to be my foot stool, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I answered eagerly.

The desire to be at her feet welled up inside of me, and I slid from the chair to the ground and hunched over. MsZusa sat and propped her feet up on my back. I heard the rustling of papers. I was overjoyed at my new station.

More rustling. “Pet, the routing number for your checking account is missing.”

“I am sorry, Mistress, but it’s not something that I recall.”

“Oh, poo. Close your eyes for me.”

I obeyed.

“Now, where do you keep your checkbook?”

“The drawer of my roll-top desk.”

“Can you see the desk in your mind?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now open the drawer and retrieve your checkbook.”

“I have the check book in my hand.”

“Good boy, now read me the first nine numbers in the lower right hand corner of the check.”

“Zero-Three-One-One, Two-Eight-Four-Nine, Zero.”

“Very good, my toy. See hypnosis is not only fun, but quite practical!” she gloated.

With ease she had me recall the rest of the missing information.

I heard more rustling and the weight of her feet on back was gone.

“You can look up now. I have some final instructions for you.”

I did. MsZusa was simply gorgeous. I could have knelt before her forever and secretly hoped that she would ask.

“Let’s see. Those appointments you postponed with other Financial Dommes? You’ll cancel those. No need for anyone else to muck up your mind. Is there?” she flashed her evil grin. “And just to be on the safe side, you’re going to stop work on this book project altogether. Did you put much time into it?”

“About four months of research.”

“Oh well,” she said casually.  “Now that you’re working for me, you’ll find yourself more industrious than ever. You’ll make that up in no time. But don’t skimp on quality.  I really want a best seller.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Are you seeing anyone?”

“Yes. She’s an English professor at the local university.”

“Well that’s over. You only have thoughts for me now.”

“Yes, only for you,” I concurred.

She held up my wallet and removed the cash.

“By the way your cards are all maxed out. You can have this back. It’s no longer of any use to me.” She dropped the wallet on the floor next to me. “You’ll have to figure out how to get home on your own.” And she laughed.

I smiled. If I had a tail, it would be wagging out of control.

“Now deep sleep, pet. And forget all of this until I tell you to remember again.”

**********************************************************************************

The last three weeks have been my most productive ever. I had a new book idea. I trashed the old one. I’ve eight chapters written already. I’ve started exercising, eating better. I was getting by with less sleep, but felt more rested than ever. Didn’t know where this all coming from, but I liked it.

On the morning of the 1st of May I was going over the draft of the latest chapter, when the phone rang.

Who could it be? Sara hadn’t called since we broke up. Almost no one had this number. I valued my privacy. I looked at the caller ID. It was not a number I recognize. 617 area code? Massachusetts.  Maybe my agent was calling from a hotel? I answered.

A female voice spoke one word: “Remember.”

A flood of memories and emotions overwhelmed me. I didn’t remember how I got there, but I found myself keeling on the floor.

“I am your toy, Mistress Zusa.”

“Good boy. I see my conditioning has held up well. Now I am going to take you even deeper. ”

“Three…two…one! Deep sleep now.” And she snapped her fingers.

She instructed me to log in to my bank’s website. I was completely aware of what was happening, but I literally had no control over my actions. I was her puppet, unable to resist as she pulled my strings from hundreds of kilometers away.

My heart raced at each new command. My breathing was short and rapid. She ordered me to create a wire transfer for $10,000 and gave me the routing and account number to direct it to he bank. My hands trembled as I filled in the form. I was experiencing a wonderful combination of lightheadedness and ecstasy.

“Is the form complete? Are you ready to send me the money, slave?”

“Yes. Mistress.”

“Then click ‘submit’.”

And I did. And my body shook uncontrollably. I moaned. I dropped the receiver. I flopped on the floor like a fish out of water. It took a minute before I could recompose myself. I picked up the phone.

“Was it as good for you as it was for me, pet?” she giggled.

I was still not coherent. I tried to answer but it came out slurred. “Yissss…”

“I guess so. Oh, I see the transfer.  Be a good boy and dream of me.”  And she hung up.

I curled up on the floor for the better part of an hour and enjoyed the bliss. Then I began to contemplate just what has taken place. She controlled me, used me, like I was nothing more than a living ATM. But instead of anger, the feeling was intoxicating and I found myself wishing that she would use me again.

The process repeated again on both June and July 1st. Ten thousand dollars transferred and me a quivering mass on the floor. By now I recognized the pattern. On August 1st I got practically no writing done. I spent the day waiting for the phone to ring, imagining the pleasure I will feel, dreaming of being used, fantasizing what she may do to me next.

The morning turned to afternoon and then evening. Still no call. My heart sunk. I’d never felt more alive when I’ve been in her control. I realized that without MsZusa my life had no meaning.

Shortly before 10pm the phone rang. I recognize the number. I knelt and answered, “Good Evening, MsZusa.”

Her voice was as seductive and hypnotic as ever, but she didn’t place me in trance.
Instead we chatted about my progress on the novel and other things. I kept waiting for her to cast her spell and extract her tribute. But she never did. Our conversation was over and she was about to hang up, when I blurted out, “MsZusa, don’t you want your tribute?”

She laughed.

“I’ve been thinking about the tributes, and it all seems rather one-sided.”

“I don’t understand, Mistress.”

“I let you pay tribute to me every month. And I know it gives you great pleasure. But what about me? What do I get out of all this?”

“You are correct.”  MsZusa was right. She’s always right! “The whole deal does seem decidedly unfair.”

“I glad you agree, pet. Of course, you don’t really have any choice in the matter.” She giggled. “From now on I will require you to plead and beg me for the privilege of turning over your hard-earned cash to me.”

“Yes, Mistress Zusa. Thank You. I am kneeling. Please, I beseech you please allow me to shower you with tributes.”

“Sleep now!” she commanded and I was instantly entranced. “You may now submit your tribute to me.”

She directed me through the process of sending the wire transfer. This time she upped the amount to $15,000. When I clicked ‘Submit’ to complete the transaction, my body shook like it never had before. I cried out her name as my mind and body were overwhelmed with pleasure.

Three minutes later I finally had the phone in hand.

“Good boy,” She cooed.

“Thank you, Mistress Zusa.”

“Now, my pet,” she said. “Your pleading was sufficient this time as you didn’t have much time to prepare. But I’ll expect a more inspiring plea, next time if you want to experience the gift of my control.” And she laughed and hung up.

I sat there with the phone in my hand and stared at the receiver. Her laughter at the thought of me needing to beg her for the privilege of tributing, was driving me mad with desire. Desire to submit more, to give more, to endure more. All for her. It felt so good and right to do this all for her.

And in the coming months, I constructed the most elaborate and flowery supplications, each more adoring and submissive than the last. And each time MsZusa graciously granted my request and compelled me to make even more generous tributes to her.

Of course, there were more than the monthly tributes. When War Plan:Red came out, I took her along on the nationwide book tour. She stayed in the suites of the fanciest 5-star hotels courtesy of my publisher, while I stayed at nearby discount motels on my own dime.

In New York I did The Today Show. MsZusa stunned the staff, guests and interns in a lavender Herve Leger crisscross-front bandage dress and platinum Jimmy Choo lance mirrored sandals. A sterling silver open link necklace and a matching sterling silver cuff bracelet both from Ippolita completed the look. In total it set me back just over $5,000, but she was totally worth it. I saw her chatting with Matt Lauer in the green room and they disappeared shortly after that. When I saw Matt again he had that unmistakable glassy-eyed look of a drone that says “Zusa owns me.” You’re welcome, Matt.

Most recently I sent her on an 8-week trip round the world: Nassau, Stockholm, Athens, Nairobi, Dubai, Phnom Penh, Tokyo, Sydney, Buenos Aires and back to Boston. I wrote it off as research for a new novel. So not only I had I become her financial slave, but now the US taxpayers were as well.

But it’s time for me to finish up. It’s that time of the month. I want to be good and ready when MsZusa calls for her tribute.