I once had a client who booked two sessions with me for scent play. These are delicate sessions to navigate, as it's best when the person has a clear idea of what scents they are looking for and why? IS it the smell of sweaty feet? The natural musk of an armpit, washed but free of deodorant after a full day? The sweet and tangy aroma of thighs after a workout, or masturbation session? And of course how does the person interpret receiving these scents? Is is punishment, a treat, or an adventure? Such careful pre-planning is involved, sometimes days or weeks in advance to make a successful scent scene.
What I enjoy about these types of scenes is watching and feeling the person take in my scent. Not the loud quick sniffs of desperation, but the low and slow inhalations of someone truly taking in every aspect of an aroma. They truly have a beginning, middle and end!
This particular night was the second night. The first had gone well enough, but I found myself to be annoyed by my own misophonic sensitivities. I am sensitive to certain sounds and this person was a sharp and loud sniffer. Loudly taking in air quickly and huffing it back out, only to take it all in quickly again. At one point I thought they might pass out because there was no way they were actually breathing.
But what annoyed me the most was that it was obvious with all of the mouth breathing that this person had failed to follow my minimum requirements of cleanliness: brush your teeth, take a shower, put on deodorant, clean your ass before you come to see me.
The second night was hot. It was the middle of a heat wave, and even with the air conditioner running on high in space, I was actively sweating. Lucky that was the point! This night I was in a mood because of the heat, so while sweating profusely I began the session with an interrogation.
"Have you followed my instructions?"
"yes Mx. Ivy"
"Are you lying to me?"
"no Mx. Ivy"
"Then enlighten me. What exactly were my instructions?"
"....."
"What did you have for lunch?"
"I haven't had lunch Mx. Ivy"
I approach from around their right shoulder, stopping directly in front of them, inches away from their face.
"It's really not a good look to start the night off with such a bold lie. I can smell the cumin from across the room. Have you forgotten I can tell when you're lying?"
I do love how fear creeps slowly into the face of another. Each realization is unique to the situation and appears in different parts of their face depending on the person. It is a beautiful and horrifying map of emotions in real time.
Since this submissive was disobedient there was a consequence. Placed on their knees I forced them to crawl to the bathroom, slowly, reciting to me an apology poem (a short three lines of rhyming apology. Easy to remember, and hopefully rarely spoken aloud.) They were then ordered to stand in front of the mirror and inspect their teeth carefully
I required them to describe to me in great detail, their meal, their mouth, their teeth and their tongue.
Every. Disgusting. Detail.
Punctuated by my opinion on their behavior, and intermitted by their apology poem.
While this was happening, I sat leisurely in a chair directly behind them, shielded by their own appearance in the mirror, slowly taking off my top. (Bad subs don't get a peek). I had taken one one of the disposable toothbrushes from the drawer. As this continued I lifted my arms, and began to brush my long and curled armpit hair. Sweat beaded and dripped down my arms and my ribs. I made sure to twist and swirl the bristles into the wettest parts of the tangled hair. I continued to brush until both pits had been detangled with two toothbrushes.
As my sub surrounded themselves with the reality of the offensive scent they had thrust upon our sacred space, I basked in the aroma of my own musk. The sweet and spicy tang of fresh dripping sweat and warm soft skin. The surprisingly feminine pheromones' that emanated from under my arms as I moved from the left to the right. It always amazes me how feminine and feral I can feel with armpits full of wild, unruly curly hair. I am free when I am out with a sleeveless top, the wind blowing under my arms.
As I finished rose, and slapped one of the brushes onto the counter, stopping the apology poem. I brought my lips close to his ear and whispered
"Brush your Goddam teeth. Every filthy corner, don't forget your tongue. If your breath is going to stink it might as well smell like something better than you.....and don't wet the bristles, I've already helped you out there."
The rest of the night went very well for both of us, but I won't be sharing that here. But I will say a good sub got to take home the second toothbrush. ;)
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