First, she’s the comic relief, and without a comic relief,
the story could get pretty heavy. A virgin auctions her body off to the highest
bidder in an effort to save her dying mother’s life. Heavy stuff, right? Personally,
I like a little hehe-haha with my lip biting and growlies and teary eyes and sniffles
and “ah-come-on!”s.
Second, and probably most important, she makes what Lanie
does, how easily she slips into her role, more believable. We all read stories
where the formula is that of a reluctant heroin placed in a situation where she
must be submissive, but finds she likes it. Right? Well, I never buy into it.
Doesn’t matter how hot the sex is. I need the story to be realistic. The
dilemma I was then faced with was how to make Lanie’s submission and eagerness
seem realistic.
Enter the Cooch.
Cooch is sort of like an alter ego, if you will. Lanie’s
scapegoat. A coping mechanism to help her mentally and emotionally deal with
the situation she’s found herself in.
Double Agent Coochie makes it possible for Lanie to secretly
like the things Noah is doing to her body without carrying so much of the shame
along with it. Because let’s face it, Lanie SHOULDN’T like what this total
stranger is doing to her. She SHOULD feel shame because proper morals and
values dictate as much in our society. It wasn’t enough that she was under
contract to satisfy Noah’s every need. She’d voluntarily signed that contract;
ergo, not a good excuse. No, she needed something involuntary to excuse her
wanton reactions to Noah’s manipulations. It wasn’t Lanie; it was the Cooch.
Hence, the Double Agent Coochie and Benedict Arnold references. She has a mind
of her own, and Lanie can only barely keep her under control. It’s quite the
chore, and thus we should admire Lanie for her persistence and at least try to
empathize with her predicament. Can’t be easy to be Lanie Talbot, after all.
Where’s the entertainment in that?
*sidenote*
I’d like to see any one of you claim to not enjoy what Noah Crawford can do
with his various body parts.
Plus, Super Cooch
looks damn good in a cape and leotard. And she’s partial to those hooker heels.
One more point that I find necessary to make: the love triangle with the Wonder
Peen and Ridonkabutt would just seem silly without the Cooch. Pfft . . . a little
bit of competition is a healthy thing.
And there you have
it . . . The Cooch isn’t really all that silly, after all. She’s quite the
complex character, as are most when you stop to look a little deeper. We used
to do that a long time ago, we readers. We used to look for the hidden nuances
in an author’s tale. That’s where the real magic was found.
Until next time . .
.
