You Have To Sniff Out Joy.

You have to sniff out joy header image shows a woman holding while smelling yellow and green flower
Photo by cottonbro studio on

One of the stand out memories of my childhood is my brother pinning me down and using his teenage boy smelling shoes to try to torture me. It never worked though. He initially expected a tentative sniff, I can imagine the joy he expected to feel! This was overshadowed by my deep inhalation, and I would always come out laughing. I’m sure that is the reason I can’t tell when milk is on the turn or chicken has gone off. For all of the abuse that my poor nostrils endured at the feet of my brother, and my later habits as a party girl I still find my positive experiences and memories intrinsically linked with nasal pleasure.

I guess I have always had a connection with different fragrances.

Of my top five favourite books two were chosen because the copies I own have that musty well-read smell. I can be transported to a different space and time just by baking a Dorset apple cake, and stormy walks by the seaside are just magic. Even the smell of muck spreading evokes beautiful memories of a well spent youth!

There are definitely certain scents that get under my skin…

That fuel my fires of passion, keeping them burning…

For me the strong association between sense of smell and desire was only recognised when I began my journey into submission. Blind to His actions everything else became magnified: the taste of His sweat; the cool touch of His hands as they stroked my blushing bottom; the sound of His voice; His scent.

My joy increasing with every sniff.

Entering his space, his dominant presence enveloping my senses always felt like coming home. The pheromones emitting from Him coupled with His cologne was a heady mix. Our first meeting after that long break had me right back at the start. With that scent which had lingered in my mind.

Since then I have become aware of how freshly sawn wood can transport me back to a certain place and time with M, my former lover; freshly cut grass puts me back in touch with my 18-year-old self and the time I got an allergic rash after spending the night frolicking with a lover in the grassy field near my home; the way fumes from boat engines make my heart pound in my chest with hard-wired memories of lusty evenings spent at fake sea with R…

More recently I can almost sniff the joy of fantasies…

Fresh Tarmac, for example, makes for some interesting scenarios. As does rain falling on hot dry ground… And the smell of smoke from extinguished fire poi never fails to get my heart racing.

This is the latest chapter in the story behind the blog. If you’ve not read any before you can dip in and out of the posts or start at the beginning. The next post will be coming soon. Please do subscribe (in the sidebar) if you want to stay up-to-date.


  1. We like some of the same smells. 🙂 Tarmac for sure and rain on a hot road! I also love the smell of creosote that they paint on wooden fences and petrol too.

    Freshly cut grass will always be linked to summer evenings in my garden as a kid. That and the sound of a blackbird singing and the murmer of a two seater plane way overhead. It’s weird the things that fix in our minds. The smell of horses too. I had a pony as a teenager. I spent half my life there for about 6 years and I’ll never forget that scent.

    Also lavender and Flying Fox (a body wash from Lush which is now discontinued). Baking bread reminds me of my student days.

    Man smells, oh yes. When you get used to a certain mix of him and whatever aftershave he wears. Works every time.

    1. A fellow lover of more industrial aromas, hooray! My love of fresh tarmac can be a little awkward with the near constant roadworks which seem to go on near me ?

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