The mood is Gothic; the scene, a dungeon; the scent, an unsettling dip into olfactory taboos. This is leather at its darkest, spiked with metallic studs of violet, lashed with the aromatic essences of basil and sage.
Musk straddles the boundary between the herbal and animal realms, before submitting to the whip of leather – tarry, bitter, almost licorice-like in its somber facets. An animal aroma of Oud wood suffuses the scene with the smell of hot, yielding flesh. Incense fumes bathe the ritual in their searing whorls. Heed the stern command of Complex and let the ceremony commence. Just don't say you haven't been warned