French LoveOut of Stock
A warm, soft, sexual blend. Sweet and alluring. Used to entice new lovers and add an aura of temptation and carnal sin to your environment.
Uncontrollable passion and insatiable sexual desire: red musk, patchouli, ylang ylang and myrrh, surrounded by smoky cinnamon-dusted cacao.
Red DevilOut of Stock
A sinfully playful lust blend. Inspires sexual spontaneity, a little bit of kinkiness, and new and inventive ways to get dirty.
The TemptationOut of Stock
The Demon, in my chamber high,
This morning came to visit me,
And, thinking he would find some fault,
He whispered: “I would know of thee
Among the many lovely things
That make the magic of her face,
Among the beauties, black and rose,
That make her body’s charm and grace,
Which is most fair?” Thou didst reply
To the Abhorred, O soul of mine:
“No single beauty is the best
When she is all one flower divine.
When all things charm me I ignore
Which one alone brings most delight;
She shines before me like the dawn,
And she consoles me like the night.
The harmony is far too great,
That governs all her body fair,
For impotence to analyse
And say which note is sweetest there.
O mystic metamorphosis!
My senses into one sense flow —
Her voice makes perfume when she speaks,
Her breath is music faint and low!”
An expression of love, adoration, and desire, of beauty that transcends mortal desire and piques the interest of hell itself: attar of rose, calla lily, palmarosa, peach blossom, wisteria, rice flower, and black musk.
“And yet a restless, always unsatisfied craving for the nudity of paganism,” she interrupted, “but that love, which is the highest joy, which is divine simplicity itself, is not for you moderns, you children of reflection. It works only evil in you. As soon as you wish to be natural, you become common. To you nature seems something hostile; you have made devils out of the smiling gods of Greece, and out of me a demon. You can only exorcise and curse me, or slay yourselves in bacchantic madness before my altar. And if ever one of you has had the courage to kiss my red mouth, he makes a barefoot pilgrimage to Rome in penitential robes and expects flowers to grow from his withered staff, while under my feet roses, violets, and myrtles spring up every hour, but their fragrance does not agree with you. Stay among your northern fogs and Christian incense; let us pagans remain under the debris, beneath the lava; do not disinter us. Pompeii was not built for you, nor our villas, our baths, our temples. You do not require gods. We are chilled in your world.”
Along with Loviatar, she has become something of a Patron Goddess of all Dominatrixes, Wanda is the breathtakingly beautiful sable-wrapped marble queen of Sacher-Masoch’s fantasies. Her scent is a deep red merlot with a faint hint of leather, sexual musk and body heat over crushed roses, violets and myrtle.
WantonOut of Stock
Feminine sexuality in its rawest form. Palmarosa, red sandalwood, attar of rose, patchouli.