Chuck’s detailed and intricate diary entries describe Madame Boodwah’s disappearance from the airwaves and her time at a leading sanatorium.
(Chuck promises this thing will be finished today – 1500 word limit be damned!)
I was still reeling from Madame Boodwah’s revelation that Dr Clark had sexually assaulted her while she was supposedly under hypnosis when Madame Boodwah launched back into her tale.
“Dr Clark thought it would be prudent to increase the frequency of our one-on-one sessions in order to facilitate faster healing”
“In other words he fancied touching you up more often,” I said.
“Chuck, please let me continue.” Madame Boodwah calmly replied.
I slunk back into my chair.
“The next session we started the usual therapy stuff and then he suggested hypnosis. Again, it didn’t work at all but I played dead. Again within ten minutes his stinking foulness for breath was on my neck and again he started pawing at me. What was different this time is that he started having a conversation with me…”
I couldn’t help myself, “maybe he’s into necrophilia and just hasn’t gotten up the nerve to kill anyone yet”
Madame Boodwah shot me one of her ‘looks’.
Madame Boodwah sipped her champagne and continued “he started saying how he had desired me the moment he laid eyes on me and over the last couple of weeks he’d really fallen for me. It was very sweet and sad at the same time”.
“You’re shitting me” I deadpanned.
“Well the chap was clearly lonely and hadn’t had much luck in love,” Madame Boodwah replied.
“Yeah and he is also a fucking sexual predator taking advantage of his patient!” I exclaimed.
“Oh Chuck, you are such a drama queen” Madame Boodwah chuckled. “So he spent the rest of the session talking about his desire for me in between groping my breasts”
“Did he try for some digital penetration?’ I inquired.
“No, actually he was very gentlemanly about his sexual assault” said Madame Boodwah.
“What a keeper. So anyway how long did all this sexual hypnosis go on for and what was with the zombie state you fell into whenever he put his hands in his pockets?” I asked.
“Oh yes, that was interesting wasn’t it? The hypno assaults went on for the next 2 weeks, we ended up doing daily sessions. He never tried to have sex with me during these sessions although judging by how flushed he was when he brought me out of the faux hypnosis, there is a strong chance that he may have been giving himself a bit of a tug in my presence,” continued Madame Boodwah.
I felt somewhat nauseous.
“In my mind I was already healed by this stage so I was taking the time to reinvigorate my figure and physical wellbeing. The result of that activity was that I was drawing a lot of attention from the other males in the facility,” Madame Boodwah offered.
“Well they were all probably hoping that you would gum their plums again” I quipped.
“This attention from the other men in the sanatorium obviously drove Dr Clark mad and anytime I spoke with any of the male suitors, he would quickly appear and tell me that it indicated a setback in my treatment and that my stay would have to be extended to 6 months,” Madame Boodwah shook her head forlornly at the thought
“So he had you trapped in there?” I offered.
“Yes, very much so. During our one-on-one sessions, he would start off the hypnosis with a solid boob pawing stint, then spend the remainder of the time trying to program me. He used one of those novelty clickers you see in showbags. Anytime he clicked on it, I was to automatically fall into my hypnotic state. That was the hardest part of the whole charade I must admit Chuck, listening for that godforsaken clicker and then falling into a stupor. Fortunately, he always had to rummage in his pants to find it so I often knew it was coming and he typically clicked it anytime I spoke with a male so I was able to prepare myself. “
I shook my head in amazement at Boodwah’s ability to dupe this so called professional. She continued:
“I knew that I was stuck in the place and that Dr Clark wasn’t ever going to let me out. Fortunately he played his hand and mentioned how he wanted to make me his bride. He then started on some stupid hypnosis program, attempting to make me fall in love with him. That was hilarious and I almost chewed my tongue off trying not to laugh at some of the lame stuff he was coming up with”
“Like what” I quizzed.
“That I would be attracted to his male pattern baldness, that his voice would trigger intense emotional responses, that every time he mentioned certain words I would swoon...”
“NO WAY!” I interjected.
Madame Boodwah sipped from her champagne again, “Over the next week or so he would drop his terrible lines around me and I pretended to fawn over him. I really think I had him sold, it was one of my greatest performances ever Chuck. He started buying me gifts that he would say were rewards for my fast track rehabilitation. A painting, a straw hat, even an IPod! Anyway I knew that he couldn’t marry one of his current patients so I figured that I could love him up so much that he would have to discharge me before asking me to marry him. I thought about doing a runner the minute he gave me my discharge papers, but then I figured that he owed me for the free breast groping he had received.”
“There have been many better men than Dr Clark who have paid a lot more to cop a feel of your tits” I stated.
Once again Madame Boodwah frowned at me.
“He kept his hypnosis going and must have been kicking himself that he couldn’t publish his results as I now appeared to be totally smitten with him at all times. Plus anytime another bloke ventured near, he clicked that infernal clicker and I switched to dead Boodwah walking.”
“I’m not sure there is much of a market for research studies conducted by sexual predators in the mainstream science world” I replied.
“No, you’re right” Madame Boodwah agreed, “Anyway, he must have felt fairly comfortable because one Thursday morning in his office he said that my treatment had come along so well that he was discharging me immediately. He then said that I was by far his favourite patient and that perhaps we should take a walk along the beach to reflect on my treatment. I knew the proposal was coming and I had to play this well. We got to the beach and after a while he dropped to his knee and asked me to marry him. He pulled out a ring that quite frankly I would be embarrassed to be seen in public with and slid it on my finger. I feigned excitement and said yes.”
“Even though I was faking this whole thing, there was no way I was settling for a $5000 ring so I pushed him onto a sand dune and after passionately fake kissing him I suggested that a woman of Madame Boodwah’s stature deserved a ring of equal value”
“How did he respond to that?” I asked.
“Well he said that it was his late mothers ring” Boodwah replied nonchalantly.
“Ooooh” I cringed.
“Fuck his dead mother” Madame Boodwah spat, he wasn’t groping her titties was he?
“Lets not put it past him” I retorted.
“Fair point” Madame Boodwah agreed. “By now I had him hooked and he agreed. I told him that we were going somewhere very special and that he would be expected to spare no expense on his bride to be. On Australia Day I pulled some strings with an old connection and had Tiffany’s opened so that we could go in and choose a ring together. Of course I skipped immediately to the highest of the high end section and picked out the sparkler you saw me sporting that evening.
“It was a fucking rock” I exclaimed.
“You bet it was and it caused his sphincter to pucker up paying for it” Madame Boodwah said with satisfaction dripping from her lips. She continued, ‘”following the night we saw you, we left for Vegas in order to get married.”
“Hang on, had you boned this guy yet?” I asked out of morbid curiosity.
“Of course not Chuck, my sexual addiction was the best excuse that I could have possibly asked for. I was selling myself as a born again virgin waiting for my wedding night. Hence his haste to get to Vegas and get the marriage officially on the books” Madame Boodwah stated confidently.
I nodded in appreciation of her cunning.
Madame Boodwah continued, “So we were in Las Vegas and I said that I wanted to observe tradition and spend the evening apart. I used my time wisely to run a number of errands that would prove to be useful in the coming 24 hours”
“Like what? You didn’t kill him did you? I asked.
“What do you think is in that travel case” Madame Boodwah said pointing to the particularly heavy one.
I shot out of my seat.
“Relax darling, I’m playing with you” Madame Boodwah said reassuringly.
I sat back down.
“We arrived at the chapel, went through the ceremony and were married. Since Clark may have never had unpaid sexual intercourse before, he was very keen to get back to the suite and have his first taste of Madame Boodwah. I milked the event for all it was worth, insisting that he purchase champagne, order caviar…”
“So you made him order your standard lunch” I quipped.
Boodwah ignored my awesome sense of humour and continued, “So the time came and I seductively waved him onto the bed as I lay in my $650 negligee that his credit card had purchased the day before. Just as I was able to register his vile breath and as he planned to dive bomb my naked breasts with his face, I reached under the pillows and pulled out a neatly typed sheet of paper indicating my wish to seek a divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. This was like a punch to his jaw and I took particular delight as confusion swirled in his eyes.”
“Once he regained his composure, he scrambled for his pants and started clicking his little clicker at a rate of knots. I sat up, smiled broadly while letting my perky breast hang in his line of sight and informed him that I was in on his ruse the whole way along and that he was now about to pay the piper. He tried to say that he had done nothing wrong but I reached for my breast, squeezed it in his awkward style and recited some of his stinky breathed terms of endearment.”
He knew that his goose was cooked and immediately retorted that it could never be proved and that he’d just have the marriage annulled. At that, I reached under the pillow and pulled out the IPod that he had so thoughtfully gifted to me. How fortunate that the new models allow you to voice record. I flipped it on and we both listened to one of his full hypnosis sessions, including his love rantings, heavy breathing and a distant rustling sound that could very well have been him rubbing one out.”
“Like a cornered animal Clark looked set to pounce, so I swung my leg over the bed, making sure to flash some upper thigh, walked directly to him and punched him in the face. I then said that I would kick his arse if he even thought about any sort of physical assault on my person. He’d well and truly had his fill of assault. I handed him the document and allowed him to read it. He recoiled in horror when it got to the part about retaining ownership of 50% of his assets as well as spousal support of $3000 per month until I die or remarry …..and I get to keep the ring”.
“He hesitated to sign the document until I waved the IPod and mentioned that I could hear his career fading away. He quickly signed as I gathered up my belongings and got back into my wedding cocktail dress. I carefully grabbed the paperwork and let myself out as I clicked my tongue like his little clicker. All in all I made out with about $650k in assets (including the ring), plus another 36 grand a year for forever!”
“Or until you get married” I said facetiously, “Remind me never to fuck with you!”
Boodwah straightened, “Well I think 650 grand almost covers what he did to me. The trip through France on the way back definitely helped the heeling.”
I shook my head in disbelief at my friend’s strength and determination, “Yeah, but what stops this prick from doing this again?” I asked.
Madame Boodwah smiled broadly, “Chuck, darling, surely with a story this interesting, you’d be able to find a popular little blog that it could be told on…..”