(Dr. Dotson was kind of enough to indulge me with an article — he’s just twisted enough to fit in here nicely)
You’re a fragrance freak but you are not really a freak, right? I mean you’re not sick, are you? As your visiting psychiatric consultant I am here to tell you that your little scent hobby is nothing. It can get much worse. You have a long long way to slide until you hit the dank and rotting lower intestine of Skankytown.
In 1887, Richard von Krafft-Ebing published his monstrously big study of perversion, Psychopathia Sexualis, a book that documents the lives of olfactophiles – those haunted beings driven into a sexual frenzy by dirty body odors. Some became “hankie thieves” or were compelled to inhale the delicious “spicebox” of a stranger’s armpit, or were discovered in embarassing situations with a neighbor’s chamberpot. Elegant women could also be afflicted, and in Dr. Havelock Ellis’ case study of “one lady” it was found that the ” heavy and penetrating” effluvia of gardenia and tuberose caused a marked “moistening of the pudenda.”
Nowadays anyone can go online and find a porn queen who will thoughtfully pack her old cotton undies into a ziplock bag and mail them to you for a nominal fee. (SIDEBAR: With just a Paypal account, craigslist and a few baggies you can start your own in-home personal fragrance business! See me for details.) How sadly banal it all is.
But since you are all such smell fanatics, I will reveal to you a most esoteric fetish: the Perfume Dominatrix. Certain needy men live for the day that a stunning Glamazon will overwhelm them with her perfume, transforming them into her dizzy love slave. This link, lovingly curated by one of these adoring perfume perverts, shows Joan Collins atomizing her lair, and Catwoman subduing Batman and Robin with her supersecret feline fragrance. Enjoy. – Dr. Dotson