Search Results: “smut”

  • A Commentary

    A Commentary

    4 out of 5

    Ripe apricots and neroli-tinged red musk with bergamot, bitter clove, and vetiver.

    Out of Stock
  • A Peculiar Spirit

    A Peculiar Spirit

    Tobacco absolute with neroli, oudh, benzoin, and black tea leaf.

    Out of Stock
  • Aelian's Phoenix

    Aelian’s Phoenix

    The Phoinix knows how to reckon five hundred years without the aid of arithmetic, for it is a pupil of all-wise nature, so that it has no need of fingers or anything else to aid it in the understanding of numbers. The purpose of this knowledge and the need for it are matters of common report. But hardly a soul among the Aigyptoi knows when the five-hundred-year period is completed; only a very few know, and they belong to the priestly order. But in fact the priests have difficulty in agreeing on these points, and banter one another and maintain that it is not now but at some date later than when it was due that the divine bird will arrive. Meantime while they are vainly squabbling, the bird miraculously guesses the period by signs and appears. And the priests are obliged to give way and confess that thy devote their time ‘to putting the sun to rest with their talk’; but they do not know as much as birds. But, in God’s name, is it not wise to know where Aigyptos is situated, where Heliopolis whither the bird is destined to come, and where it must bury its father and in what kind of coffin?

    Golden amber and patchouli with fiery peppercorn, cocoa, white cedar, neroli, vanilla pod, and frankincense.

    Out of Stock
  • Alma Venus

    Alma Venus

    Mother Venus

    Amber-infused blood orange with Italian neroli, ambergris, orange flower absolute, French beeswax, tuberose, Himalayan cedar, and honey.

    Out of Stock
  • Aristocratic Couple

    Aristocratic Couple

    5 out of 5

    Bourbon vanilla, preserved apricot, and cardamom.

    Out of Stock
  • Bartholomaeus Anglicus' Phoenix

    Bartholomaeus Anglicus’ Phoenix

    Phoenix is a bird, and there is but one of that kind in all the wide world. Therefore lewd men wonder thereof, and among the Arabs, there this bird is bred, he is called singular–alone. The philosopher speaketh of this bird and saith that phoenix is a bird without make, and liveth three hundred or five hundred years: when the which years are past, and he feeleth his own default and feebleness, he maketh a nest of right sweet-smelling sticks, that are full dry, and in summer when the western wind blows, the sticks and the nest are set on fire with burning heat of the sun, and burn strongly. Then this bird phoenix cometh willfully into the burning nest, and is there burnt to ashes among these burning sticks, and within three days a little worm is gendered of the ashes, and waxeth little and little, and taketh feathers and is shapen and turned to a bird. Ambrose saith the same in the Hexameron: Of the humours or ashes of phoenix ariseth a new bird and waxeth, and in space of time he is clothed with feathers and wings and restored into the kind of a bird, and is the most fairest bird that is, most like to the peacock in feathers, and loveth the wilderness, and gathereth his meat of clean grains and fruits. Alan speaketh of this bird and saith, that when the highest bishop Onyas builded a temple in the city of Heliopolis in Egypt, to the likeness of the temple in Jerusalem, on the first day of Easter, when he had gathered much sweet-smelling wood, and set it on fire upon the altar to offer sacrifice, to all men's sight such a bird came suddenly, and fell into the middle of the fire, and was burnt anon to ashes in the fire of the sacrifice, and the ashes abode there, and were busily kept and saved by the commandments of the priests, and within three days, of these ashes was bred a little worm, that took the shape of a bird at the last, and flew into the wilderness.

    The fire of the sacrifice: scorched, honeyed cedar and carob wood aflame with amber, cinnamon, and red sandalwood.

    Out of Stock
  • americangodsWEB-bast

    Bast

    There was a girl. He had met her somewhere, and now they were walking across a bridge. It spanned a small lake, in the middle of a town. The wind was ruffling the surface of the lake, making waves tipped with whitecaps, which seemed to Shadow to be tiny hands reaching for him.

    — Down there, said the woman. She was wearing a leopard-print skirt, which flapped and tossed in the wind, and the flesh between the top of her stockings and her skirt was creamy and soft and in his dream, on the bridge, before God and the world, Shadow went down to his knees in front of her, burying his head in her crotch, drinking in the intoxicating jungle female scent of her. He became aware, in his dream, of his erection in real life, a rigid, pounding, monstrous thing as painful in its hardness as the erections he’d had as a boy, when he was crashing into puberty.

    He pulled away and looked upward, and still he could not see her face. But his mouth was seeking hers and her lips were soft against his, and his hands were cupping her breasts, and then they were running across the satin smoothness of her skin, pushing into and parting the furs that hid her waist, sliding into the wonderful cleft of her, which warmed and wetted and parted for him, opening to his hand like a flower.

    The woman purred against him ecstatically, her hand moving down to the hardness of him and squeezing it. He pushed the bedsheets away and rolled on top of her, his hand parting her thighs, her hand guiding him between her legs, where one thrust, one magical push . . .

    Now he was back in his old prison cell with her, and he was kissing her deeply. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, clamped her legs about his legs to hold him tight, so he could not pull out, not even if he wanted to.

    Never had he kissed lips so soft. He had not known that there were lips so soft in the whole world. Her tongue, though, was sandpaper-rough as it slipped against his.

    —Who are you? he asked.

    She made no answer, just pushed him onto his back and, in one lithe movement, straddled him and began to ride him. No, not to ride him: to insinuate herself against him in series of silken-smooth waves, each more powerful than the one before, strokes and beats and rhythms that crashed against his mind and his body just as the wind-waves on the lake splashed against the shore. Her nails were needle-sharp and they pierced his sides, raking them, but he felt no pain, only pleasure, everything was transmuted by some alchemy into moments of utter pleasure.

    He struggled to find himself, struggled to talk, his head now filled with sand dunes and desert winds.

    —Who are you? he asked again, gasping for the words.

    She stared at him with eyes the color of dark amber, then lowered her mouth to his and kissed him with a passion, kissed him so completely and so deeply that there, on the bridge over the lake, in his prison cell, in the bed in the Cairo funeral home, he almost came. He rode the sensation like a kite riding a hurricane, willing it not to crest, not to explode, wanting it never to end.

    A desert wind alight with myrrh and golden amber, cardamom and honey, bourbon vanilla and cacao.

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  • Claudian's Phoenix

    Claudian’s Phoenix

    There is a leafy wood fringed by Oceanus' farthest marge beyond the Indes and the East where Dawn's panting coursers first seek entrance; it hears the lash close by, what time the watery threshold echoes to the dewy car; and hence comes forth the rosy morn while night, illumined by those far-shining wheels of fire, casts off her sable cloak and broods less darkly. This is the kingdom of the blessèd bird of the sun where it dwells in solitude defended b the inhospitable nature of the land and immune from the ills that befall other living creatures; nor does it suffer infection from the world of men. Equal to the gods is that bird whose life rivals the stars and whose renascent limbs weary the passing centuries. It needs no food to satisfy hunger nor any drink to quench thirst; the sun's clear beam is its food, the sea's rare spray its drink–exhalations such as these form its simple nourishment. A mysterious fire flashes from its eyes, and a flaming aureole enriches its head. Its crest shines with the sun's own light and shatters the darkness with its calm brilliance. Its legs are of Tyrian purple; swifter than those of the Zephyrs are its wings of flower-like blue dappled with rich gold.

    Never was this bird conceived nor springs it from any mortal seed, itself is alike its own father and son, and with none to recreate it, it renews its outworn limbs with a rejuvenation of death, and at each decease wins a fresh lease of life. For when a thousand summers have passed far away, a thousand winters gone by, a thousand springs in their course given to the husbandmen that shade of which autumn robbed them, then at last, fordone by the number of its years, it falls a victim to the burden of age; as a tall pine on the summit of Caucasus, wearied with storms, heels over with its weight and threatens at last to crash in ruin; one portion falls by reason of the unceasing winds, another breaks away rotted by the rain, another consumed by the decay of years.

    Now the Phoenix's bright eye grows dim and the pupil becomes palsied by the frost of years, like the moon when she is shrouded in clouds and her horn beings to vanish in the mist. Now his wings, wont to cleave the clouds of heaven, can scarce raise them from the earth. Then, realizing that his span of life is at an end and in preparation for a renewal of his splendour, he gathers dry herbs from the sun-warmed hills, and making an interwoven heap of the branches of the precious tree of Saba he builds that pyre which shall be at once his tomb and his cradle.

    On this he takes his seat and as he grows weaker greets the Sun with his sweet voice; offering up prayers and supplications he begs that those fires will give him renewal of strength. Phoebus, on seeing him afar, checks his reins and staying his course consoles his loving child with these words: ‘Thou who art about to leave thy years behind upon yon pyre, who, by this pretence of death, art destined to rediscover life; thou whose decease means but the renewal of existence and who by self-destruction regainest thy lost youth, receive back thy life, quit the body that must die, and by a change of form come forth more beauteous than ever.’

    So speaks he, and shaking his head casts one of his golden hairs and smites willing Phoenix with its life-giving effulgence. Now, to ensure his rebirth, he suffers himself to be burned and in his eagerness to be born again meets death with joy. Stricken with the heavenly flame the fragrant pile catches fire and burns the aged body. The moon in amaze checks her milk-white heifers and heaven halts his revolving spheres, while the pyre conceives the new life; Nature takes care that the deathless bird perish not, and calls upon the sun, mindful of his promise, to restore its immortal glory to the world.

    Straightway the life spirit surges through his scattered limbs; the renovated blood floods his veins. The ashes show signs of life; they begin to move though there is none to move them, and feathers clothe the mass of cinders. He who was but now the sire comes forth from the pyre the son and successor; between life and life lay but that brief space wherein the pyre burned.

    His first delight is to consecrate his father's spirit by the banks of the Nile and to carry to the land of Aegyptus the burned mass from which he was born. With all speed he wings his way to that foreign strand, carrying the remains in a covering of grass. Birds innumerable accompany him, and whole flocks thereof throng in airy flight. Their mighty host shuts out the sky where'er it passes. But from among so vast an assemblage none dares outstrip the leader; all follow respectfully in the balmy wake of their king. Neither the fierce hawk nor the eagle, Jove's own armour-bearer, fall to fighting; in honour of their common master a truce is observed by all. Thus the Parthian monarch leads his barbarous hosts by yellow Tigris' banks, all glorious with jewels and rich ornament and decks his tiara with royal garlands; his horse's bridle is of gold, Assyrian embroidery embellishes his scarlet robes, and proud with sovereignty he lords it o'er his numberless slaves.

    There is in Aegyptus a well-known city celebrated for its pious sacrifices and dedicated to the worship of Ra. Its temples rest on a hundred columns hewn from the quarries of Thebes. Here, as the story tells, the Phoenix is wont to store his father's ashes and, adoring the image of the god, his master, to entrust his precious burden to the flames. He places on the altar that from which he is sprung and that which remains of himself. Bright shines the wondrous threshold; the fragrant shrine is filled with the holy smoke of the altar and the odour of Indian incense, penetrating even as far as the Pelusiac marshes, fills the nostrils of men, flooding them with its kindly influence and with a scent sweeter than that of nectar perfumes the seven mouths of the dark Nile.

    Happy bird, heir to thine own self! Death which proves our undoing restores thy strength. Thine ashes give thee life and though thou perish not thine old age dies. Thou hast beheld all that has been, hast witnessed the passing of the ages. Thou knowest when it was that the waves of the sea rose and o'erflowed the rocks, what year it was that Phaëthon's error devoted to the flames. Yet did no destruction overwhelm thee; sole survivor thou livest to see the earth subdued; against thee the Fates gather not up their threads, powerless to do thee harm.

    Sole survivor thou livest to see the earth subdued; against thee the Fates gather not up their threads, powerless to do thee harm: red patchouli, sweet frankincense, and the figs and pomegranates of the seven mouths of the dark Nile.

    Out of Stock
  • Clement I's Phoenix

    Clement I’s Phoenix

    Let us consider the strange sign which takes place in the East, that is in the districts near Arabia. There is a bird which is called the Phoenix. This is the only one of its kind, and lives 500 years; and when the time of its dissolution in death is at hand, it makes itself a sepulchre of frankincense and myrrh and other spices, and when the time is fulfilled it enters into it and dies. Now, from the corruption of its flesh there springs a worm, which is nourished by the juices of the dead bird, and puts forth wings. Then, when it has become strong, it takes up that sepulchre, in which are the bones of its predecessor, and carries them from the country of Arabia as far as Egypt until it reaches the city called Heliopolis, and in the daylight in the sight of all it flies to the altar of the Sun, places them there, and then starts back to its former home. Then the priests inspect the registers of dates, and they find that it has come at the fulfilment of the 500th year.

    A sepulchre of frankincense and caramelized myrrh.

    Out of Stock
  • Comparison of Celebrated Beauties

    Comparison of Celebrated Beauties

    5 out of 5

    Vanilla cream, mimosa, and almond blossom.

    Out of Stock
  • Isidore's Phoenix

    Isidore’s Phoenix

    The phoenix is a bird of Arabia, which gets its name from its purple color; or because it is singular and unique in the world and the Arabs call singular and unique phoenix. It lives for 500 years or more. When it sees that it has grown old it builds a pyre for itself from spices and twigs, and facing the rays of the rising sun ignites a fire and fans it with its wings, and rises again from its own ashes.

    Feathers of deep plum and wild violet darkly gleaming with myrrh, black amber, and benzoin.

    Out of Stock
  • Ivory Vulva

    Ivory Vulva

    5 out of 5

    Marshmallow root, coconut, macadamia milk, cream accord, and a drop of golden amber.

    Out of Stock
  • Joyful Romp

    Joyful Romp

    5 out of 5

    Plum blossoms and white sandalwood with indigo, tuberose, plum musk, and a drop of vetiver.

    Out of Stock
  • Le Clerc's Phoenix

    Le Clerc’s Phoenix

    There is a bird named the phoenix, which dwells in India and is never found elsewhere. This bird is always alone and without companion, for its like cannot be found, and there is no other bird which resembles it in habits or appearance. At the end of five hundred years it feels that it has grown old, and loads itself with many rare and precious spices, and flies from the desert away to the city of Leopolis. There, by some sign or other, the coming of the bird is announced to a priest of that city, who causes fagots to be gathered and placed upon a beautiful altar, erected for the bird. And so, as I have said, the bird, laden with spices, comes to the altar, and smiting upon the hard stone with its beak, it causes the flame to leap forth and set fire to the wood and the spices. When the fire is burning brightly, the phoenix lays itself upon the altar and is burned to dust and ashes. Then comes the priest and finds the ashes piled up, and separating them softly he finds within a little worm, which gives forth an odor sweeter than that of roses or of any other flower. The next day and the next the priest comes again, and on the third day he finds that the worm has become a full-grown and full-fledged bird, which bows low before him and flies away, glad and joyous, nor returns again before five hundred years.

    Assyrian cypress and cedar with cinnamon, black cardamom, cassia, Egyptian balsam, acanthus leaves, and frankincense.

    Out of Stock
  • Lenus Mars

    Lenus Mars

    Mars the Healer

    Roman chamomile, white musk, and ambergris.

    Out of Stock
  • Lovers and a Fan

    Lovers and a Fan

    White coconut, thick wildflower honey, and threads of saffron.

    Out of Stock
  • Lucan's Phoenix

    Lucan’s Phoenix

    Then copious poisons from the moon distils
    Mixed with all monstrous things which Nature's pangs
    Bring to untimely birth; the froth from dogs
    Stricken with madness foaming at the stream;
    A lynx's entrails and the knot that grows
    Upon the fell hyaena; flesh of stags
    Fed upon serpents and the sucking fish
    Which holds the vessel back though eastern winds
    Make bend the canvas; dragon's eyes; and stones
    That sound beneath the brooding eagle's wings.
    Nor Araby's viper, nor the ocean snake
    Who in the Red Sea waters guards the shell,
    Are wanting; nor the slough on Libyan sands
    By horned reptile cast nor ashes fail
    Snatched from an altar where the Phoenix died

    Copious poisons from the moon distils: frankincense, mugwort, toxic moonseed, lemon balm, pale yellow musk seed, and elemi.

    Out of Stock
  • Magnificent Autumn

    Magnificent Autumn

    By what a subtle alchemy the green leaves are transmuted into gold, as if molten by the fiery blaze of the hot sun! A magic covering spreads over the whole forest, and brightens into more gorgeous hues. The tree-tops seem bathed with the gold and crimson of an Italian sunset. Here and there a shade of green, here and there a tinge of purple, and a stain of scarlet so deep and rich, that the most cunning artifice of man is pale beside it. A thousand delicate shades melt into each other. They blend fantastically into one deep mass. They spread over the forest like a tapestry woven with a thousand hues.

    Magnificent Autumn! He comes not like a pilgrim, clad in russet weeds. He comes not like a hermit, clad in gray. But he comes like a warrior, with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner drips with gore. His step is like a flail upon the threshing floor.

    The scene changes.

    It is the Indian summer. The rising sun blazes through the misty air like a conflagration. A yellowish, smoky haze fills the atmosphere; and

    A filmy mist,
    Lies like a silver lining on the sky.

    The wind is soft and low. It wafts to us the odor of forest leaves, that hang wilted on the dripping branches, or drop into the stream. Their gorgeous tints are gone, as if the autumnal rains had washed them out. Orange, yellow, and scarlet, all are changed to one melancholy russet hue. The birds, too, have taken wing, and have left their roofless dwellings. Not the whistle of a robin, not the twitter of an eavesdropping swallow, not the carol of one sweet, familiar voice! All gone. Only the dismal cawing of a crow, as he sits and curses, that the harvest is over, – or the chit-chat of an idle squirrel, – the noisy denizen of a hollow tree, – the mendicant friar of a large parish, – the absolute monarch of a dozen acorns!

    Another change.

    The wind sweeps through the forest with a sound like the blast of a trumpet. The dry leaves whirl in eddies through the air. A fret-work of hoar-frost covers the plain. The stagnant water in the pools and ditches is frozen into fantastic figures. Nature ceases from her labors, and prepares for the great change. In the low-hanging clouds, the sharp air, like a busy shuttle, weaves her shroud of snow. There is a melancholy and continual roar in the tops of the tall pines, like the roar of a cataract. It is the funeral anthem of the dying year.

    A scent that wanders through the Ages of Autumn, from the last green leaf to the first breath of winter.

    Out of Stock
  • Magnificent Autumn

    Magnificent Autumn

    2.5 out of 5

    By what a subtle alchemy the green leaves are transmuted into gold, as if molten by the fiery blaze of the hot sun! A magic covering spreads over the whole forest, and brightens into more gorgeous hues. The tree-tops seem bathed with the gold and crimson of an Italian sunset. Here and there a shade of green, here and there a tinge of purple, and a stain of scarlet so deep and rich, that the most cunning artifice of man is pale beside it. A thousand delicate shades melt into each other. They blend fantastically into one deep mass. They spread over the forest like a tapestry woven with a thousand hues.

    Magnificent Autumn! He comes not like a pilgrim, clad in russet weeds. He comes not like a hermit, clad in gray. But he comes like a warrior, with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner drips with gore. His step is like a flail upon the threshing floor.

    The scene changes.

    It is the Indian summer. The rising sun blazes through the misty air like a conflagration. A yellowish, smoky haze fills the atmosphere; and

    A filmy mist,
    Lies like a silver lining on the sky.

    The wind is soft and low. It wafts to us the odor of forest leaves, that hang wilted on the dripping branches, or drop into the stream. Their gorgeous tints are gone, as if the autumnal rains had washed them out. Orange, yellow, and scarlet, all are changed to one melancholy russet hue. The birds, too, have taken wing, and have left their roofless dwellings. Not the whistle of a robin, not the twitter of an eavesdropping swallow, not the carol of one sweet, familiar voice! All gone. Only the dismal cawing of a crow, as he sits and curses, that the harvest is over, – or the chit-chat of an idle squirrel, – the noisy denizen of a hollow tree, – the mendicant friar of a large parish, – the absolute monarch of a dozen acorns!

    Another change.

    The wind sweeps through the forest with a sound like the blast of a trumpet. The dry leaves whirl in eddies through the air. A fret-work of hoar-frost covers the plain. The stagnant water in the pools and ditches is frozen into fantastic figures. Nature ceases from her labors, and prepares for the great change. In the low-hanging clouds, the sharp air, like a busy shuttle, weaves her shroud of snow. There is a melancholy and continual roar in the tops of the tall pines, like the roar of a cataract. It is the funeral anthem of the dying year.

    A scent that wanders through the Ages of Autumn, from the last green leaf to the first breath of winter.

    Out of Stock
  • Mandeville's Phoenix

    Mandeville’s Phoenix

    In Egypt is the city of Heliopolis, that is to say, the city of the Sun. In that city there is a temple, made round after the shape of the Temple of Jerusalem. The priests of that temple have all their writings, under the date of the fowl that is clept phoenix; and there is none but one in all the world. And he cometh to burn himself upon the altar of that temple at the end of five hundred year; for so long he liveth. And at the five hundred years' end, the priests array their altar honestly, and put thereupon spices and sulphur vif and other things that will burn lightly; and then the bird phoenix cometh and burneth himself to ashes. And the first day next after, men find in the ashes a worm; and the second day next after, men find a bird quick and perfect; and the third day next after, he flieth his way. And so there is no more birds of that kind in all the world, but it alone, and truly that is a great miracle of God. And men may well liken that bird unto God, because that there ne is no God but one; and also, that our Lord arose from death to life the third day. This bird men see often-time fly in those countries; and he is not mickle more than an eagle. And he hath a crest of feathers upon his head more great than the peacock hath; and is neck his yellow after colour of an oriel that is a stone well shining, and his beak is coloured blue as ind; and his wings be of purple colour, and his tail is barred overthwart with green and yellow and red. And he is a full fair bird to look upon, against the sun, for he shineth full gloriously and nobly.

    Sulphur and myrrh crackling with clove, Himalayan cedar, and red sandalwood.

    Out of Stock
  • Mars Alator

    Mars Alator

    Mars the Huntsman

    Sweet fig and vetiver.

    Out of Stock
  • Mars Corotiacus

    Mars Corotiacus

    Mars of the Cavalry

    A dark leather chypre with white sage and juniper berry.

    Out of Stock
  • Mars Loucetius

    Mars Loucetius

    5 out of 5

    Mars of the Thunderstorm

    A white tea chypre with rockrose, white sandalwood, and champaca flower.

    Out of Stock
  • Mars Rigonemetis

    Mars Rigonemetis

    Mars of the Sacred Grove

    Dark musk entwined with ivy, black pine, birch tar, cypress, black cedar, and black pepper.

    Out of Stock
  • Mars Ultor

    Mars Ultor

    4 out of 5

    Mars the Avenger

    Black amber and smoky vanilla with cistus, benzoin, caramelized tobacco, and blackened nutmeg.

    Out of Stock
  • Minamoto No Yorimasa and the Lotus Root Flower

    Minamoto No Yorimasa and the Lotus Flower

    Lotus root, lotus petals, and blue lotus absolute with frankincense, black amber, and blackcurrant.

    Out of Stock
  • Mount Fuji Reflected in Lake Misaica

    Mount Fuji Reflected in Lake Misaica

    An oakmoss chypre with black cypress, wild mint, labdanum, pine needles, white sandalwood, and white cedar.

    Out of Stock
  • Philostratus' Phoenix

    Philostratus’ Phoenix

    ‘And the Phoinix,’ Iarkhas said, ‘is the bird which visits Aigyptos every five hundred years, but the rest of that time it flies about in India; and it is unique in that it gives out rays of sunlight and shines with gold, in size and appearance like an eagle; and it sits upon the nest; which is made by it at the springs of the Nile out of spices. The story of the Aigyptoi about it, that it comes to Aigyptos, is testified to by the Indians also, but the latter add this touch to the story, that the Phoinix which is being consumed in its nest sings funeral strains for itself. And this is also done by the swans according to the account of those who have the wit to hear them.’

    Rays of sunlight, shining with gold: amber glittering with orange blossom, Calabrian lemon, warm saffron, golden vegetal musk, and honeyed incense.

    Out of Stock
  • Pleasant Embrace

    Pleasant Embrace

    Lemon-silvered musk and white pear.

    Out of Stock
  • Prosperous Flowers of the Elegant Twelve Seasons

    Prosperous Flowers of the Elegant Twelve Seasons

    5 out of 5

    Patchouli and honeyed saffron with labdanum, leather accord, and wood vanilla.

    Out of Stock
  • Riding in the Palanquin

    Riding in the Palanquin

    4 out of 5

    Lacquered wood, mother of pearl, bamboo, silk, ho leaf, and jasmine blossoms.

    Out of Stock
  • Seated Couple Leaning on Hips

    Seated Couple Leaning on Hips

    Sake, skin musk, and ambrette seed.

    Out of Stock
  • Serving Tea After Coitus

    Serving Tea After Coitus

    Green tea, heady honey, white plum, ambergris accord, and vanilla flower.

    Out of Stock
  • Smut

    Smut

    Quintessential BPAL filth. Three swarthy, smutty musks sweetened with sugar and woozy with dark booze notes.

    Out of Stock
  • Antique Medical Illustration | Human heart

    Smut

    Three swarthy, smutty musks sweetened with sugar and woozy with dark booze notes.

    Out of Stock
  • Startled Toad

    Startled Toad

    Golden amber and coconut with frankincense, frothy vanilla, carnation, sweet aged patchouli, and lemongrass.

    Out of Stock
  • Statius' Phoenix

    Statius’ Phoenix

    Isis, once stalled in Phoroneus’ caves, now queen of Pharos and a deity of the breathless East, welcome with sound of many a sistrum the Mareotic bark, and gently with thine own hand lead the peerless youth, on whom the Latian prince hath bestowed the standards of the East and the bridling of the cohorts of Palestine, through festal gate and sacred haven and the cities of thy land. Under thy protection may he learn whence comes the fruitful license of marshy Nile, why the waters abate and are hemmed within the banks that the Cecropian bird has coated with clay, why Memphis is jealous, why the shore of Therapnean Canopus makes wanton revel, why the warden of Lethe guards the Pharian shrines, why vile beasts are held equal to mighty gods; what altars the long-lived Phoenix prepares for his own death, what fields Apis, adored by trembling shepherds, deigns to graze, and in what waters of Nile he bathes.

    Pomegranate root, honey, white cedar, and frankincense.

    Out of Stock
  • The Onnagata and the Pillow Roll

    The Onnagata and the Pillow Roll

    White musk and Himalayan cedar with bergamot, rose absolute, white patchouli, pink peppercorn, and hay absolute.

    Out of Stock
  • The Wet Nurse and the Old Monk

    The Wet Nurse and the Old Monk

    4.5 out of 5

    Red sandalwood, peach, white tea, and champaca.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Caelestis

    Venus Caelestis

    Celestial Venus

    Blue lotus absolute, grey amber, white myrrh, frankincense, and sugared lemon peel.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Callipyge

    Venus Callipyge

    Venus With the Pretty Bottom

    Iris root, carnation, and grandiflorum jasmine with violet leaf, muguet, and peach blossom.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Cloacina

    Venus Cloacina

    4 out of 5

    Venus the Purifier

    A magnificent white gardenia in full bloom, gilded by frankincense, sheer musk, and vanilla orchid.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Erycina

    Venus Erycina

    Venus of the Prostitutes

    Honeysuckle absolute with white gardenia, red patchouli, red amber, and crushed diamond accord.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Genetrix

    Venus Genetrix

    Venus the Progenitor

    Black amber and jasmine tea with 7-year aged vanilla bourbon absolute.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Libitina

    Venus Libitina

    Venus of the Undertakers

    Rose water, black cherry, cream accord, bourbon, and orris root.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Murcia

    Venus Murcia

    Venus of the Myrtle

    Crushed grass, honey myrtle, and dew-touched green musk.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Obsequens

    Venus Obsequens

    Venus the Gracious

    Pink apple and blackcurrant with honey and cardamom.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Verticordia

    Venus Verticordia

    5 out of 5

    Venus the Changer of Hearts

    Fickle dandelion florets dancing through honey-drenched wildflowers.

    Out of Stock
  • Venus Victrix

    Venus Victrix

    Venus the Victorious

    Peru balsam and aged patchouli with white sandalwood, red musk, red roses, and wood moss.

    Out of Stock