Scented Doll Novels & Stories

He said in a drooling manner as he picked up another masculine cologne as he sniffed it. “It has a strong tobacco and this woody scent, not like the local woods.” He chuckled softly. “I mean rich wood. You know those that are used as incense? Exactly those woody scents.” He muttered as he threw it inside the trolley too. I kept on following him from behind as he did the shopping. “Am I actually going to be seducing her?” I shrugged off the thought and quickly trashed away the picture I had in my head. “Definitely no way.” I groaned.

I always use a highly artificial pine body wash to mask my natural pheromones, and I carefully apply the harsh soap every single morning to ensure I project a sterile, untouchable aura to my subordinates. However, the sterile pine scent is completely gone, and a terrifying realization washes over my mind as I inhale the heavy, undeniable aroma radiating directly from my own pores. My natural biological scent is now permanently mixed with the rich, dark cedar of Rhett and the incredibly heavy, burnt tobacco of Seth's grounding venom.

“He hung me up, I think. My throat’s been weird this whole morning. I thought I was coming down with something, but it felt kind of suffocating? So I think the doll probably got hung from something.” “Like those sunny dolls? What kind of kink is that?” I frowned and softly touched the doll’s neck. There was a sewing crease there, so it made sense for wrinkles to appear around that area. I could imagine the doll being tied up and hanging like a sunny doll. The more I looked, the more the sight of the crease began to irritate me. It almost looked like someone had wrapped a rope around its neck. I wanted nothing more than to smooth it out.

Here, I have saved my number in your phone book, so you don't delete it and my sister asked for it not me. Barbara smiled at him. "You are very cunning." "Nope! I am just the type that knows how to get what I want and what I want I always get, I noticed you are wearing such a nice perfume, I like it, what is the brand? I too am into perfume, the CEO of Don Group." "Oh! This is just my natural scent." Gordon stared at her, he couldn't believe what he was hearing but the truth was, that the scent people kept identifying with her, is her natural scent.

He'd given her a necklace that cost a few hundred dollars, money he'd saved for a long time. She'd held that simple piece of jewelry and cried like a fool who'd never seen anything so beautiful. He had been so proud then, thinking he was the prince saving Cinderella. A joke. It was all a fucking joke. She was the Thorne Principessa. She'd probably seen more diamonds than he'd seen rocks. Rocco remembered the tattoo, a tangle of black thorns and a blood-red rose between her shoulder blades, wild and dangerous. He used to kiss it every time they made love.

And then there was his scent. Fuck, his scent. We had been friends for long enough that I could pick his scent out of a crowd immediately, but lately? It had taken on an almost sweet undertone. Like an omega’s. An omega’s scent was one no alpha could ever get confused about. Though each person smelled different, it was always lighter. An almost vanilla or almond undertone. They made perfumes to try to replicate it in the big stores, selling them for thousands of dollars per bottle. Elias’s new scent could sell for hundreds of thousands.

Stella replied then remarked, “I must say you look familiar. Have we met before?” “I’m afraid not but you may call me Lucien. Your perfume though, is a familiar scent, Neroli, yes?” “Yes, my brand.” He could not help himself but he found himself very attracted to this woman and he had never fallen for anyone before as much as this was turning out. “Here, take another whiff.” Stella held out her wrist. She pulled up the sleeve of her sheer dress and he bowed to scent her skin, so near now and yet he felt so far for she was only offering him her creation.

Zavian's nostrils flared at the cloying, artificial floral scent of her overpowering perfume. It was the kind of scent designed to attract attention, to announce her presence with the subtlety of a foghorn. It was the complete opposite of Emmeline's intoxicating natural fragrance, the one scent that never failed to stir his senses to the point he barely managed to keep his dick in his pants earlier. All that dominated his senses whenever she was near was the intense desire to ravage her senselessly. To have her squirming and a moaning mess beneath him while he pounded her until she saw stars and forgot even her name.

"I need you sharp tomorrow." Elias stood. Crossed to the door. Stopped with his hand on the frame. Didn't turn around. "Whatever you're planning for Raymond," he said quietly. "Don't leave anything standing." He left. Damien sat in the quiet office. Looked at the closed file on his desk. At forty three pages and the things Hale had said and the things Elias hadn't. Three years. A private lab. Olfactory neuroscience. Scent triggered attachment responses in individuals with heightened fixation psychology.

answered one of them, the one who guards at the front. "The Dead End?" he asked again. Jefferson gasped; they called the fabric shop The Dead End? A new piece of information. One of those that guard the right side nodded. "They sell those things. Chips, woo-woo, beast, fry daddy, and many more." Jefferson tightened his grip on his gun. He recognized all the names, and it was marijuana. "Have you ever gone there?" "Yeh, several times, but I don't like the place. It's messy."