Scent Marked

Where do these scents we produce come from? Whereas other animals release pheromones equally from their skin, urine, feces, and sometimes their breath, humans have evolved to release most of our pheromones only from the skin. Our scents are largely produced by the skin's apocrine glands which release our skin's natural hair and body oils. These glands develop during puberty and are mostly located adjacent to sweat glands and beneath tufts of hair. They are found everywhere on the body but are concentrated in six areas: the underarms, the pubic, genital, and anal regions, the area around the mouth and lips, the eyelids, the nipples, and the outer ear.

Most of these areas on our bodies have the thickest patches of hair growth, which makes perfect sense, as hair is a very efficient means of spreading one's scent. Our body oils - rich with our unique and individual scent, including our pheromones - coat the surface of our hair follicles which exposes them to more air. That exposure leads to evaporation of the moisture which frees those scents to take flight and find the nostrils of a prospective lover. The fact that body hair and apocrine glands appear simultaneously at puberty could not be an accident. It suggests that body odor and its dispersal is a key factor in sexual development.

To my thinking, it is also no accident that these are the areas where most oral sexual contact takes place - the mouth, ear, chest, genitals, and anus. As humans, we want to smell, kiss and taste our lovers where their smell is most concentrated. In many species, the most powerful sex pheromones are released from anal glands. In some species of fish, for example, the females choose a mate based on her attraction to the pheromones released by glands on the male's anal fin. Dogs are perhaps the most common example that most people have witnessed. They sniff each other's butts because for their species, some of the most powerful sexual scents are found there.

This is no less true for humans. Our anal glands produce a powerful musk that is easy to discern and appreciate when we're clean of fecal matter. It is by no coincidence that the human anus is poetically referred to as a rose bud, because the scent it emits can be no less endearing to the olfactory part of our brain.

The big question is, why are there some people with whom we crave and long to share these intimacies, while the thought of doing so with others we find utterly disgusting? Does physical attraction influence our perception of smell and taste? Or do the smells and pheromones released from our bodies influence how attractive we find another person? Are both true?

Obviously for humans we experience physical attraction often long before we have an opportunity to smell that person. My hunch was that smell that seals the deal. We seem to lose our attraction for people who don't smell or taste right to us. When a guy I'm attracted to smells and tastes good, my desire for him is increased tenfold.

As far as we currently know, most sex pheromones throughout the animal kingdom are produced by the females of each species; only a small percentage of sex attractants are produced by males. It's like nature gave us girls the power to hypnotize men with our scent. Sometimes, we hypnotize other women, too. Mesmer had nothing compared to the scent of a woman aroused. It was in that moment when I had an epiphany.

There was something about the way that Elias looked at me the night before - nostrils flaring as he took in the scent of my sex while I peed - that stayed with me throughout the day. I couldn't shake the memory from my mind. That, combined with the memory of the goats mating that we watched the day before, kept replaying in my head. A plan started to form in my mind as to how I could make the most of my time stuck in that tent while my colleagues were out chasing the glory denied to me. Maybe the trip didn't have to be a bust for me after all, I thought. As the plan continued to percolate, I wondered if perhaps there was a reason I got injured. In fact, maybe I wouldn't need a rescue crew to come carry me down the mountain. I could make perfect use of my time right there in that tent.

A 1976 study on sleeping babies tested their response when presented with a cotton pad that had been worn by their mothers inside their bras for the previous three hours. When the cotton pad was then put right under their noses, 9 out of 10 sleeping babies salivated and had a suckling response to their mother's scent. When the pads were switched around so that each baby was presented with a pad that did not belong to her/his mother, only 1 baby out of 10 had the suckling response.

The memory of this study inspired me. Could I get Elias to react in a similar manner when presented with female sex pheromones in his sleep? He who was a non-believer in the efficacy of human sex pheromones? He who had mocked my paper presentation at the evo-bio conference all those years ago? What sweet divine justice that would be! But how would I prove it? It turns out that the answer was sitting right in front of me.

I peeked out of my sleeping bag cocoon and reached for my backpack, braving the freezing cold that had overtaken the tent. "Thank the Gods," I whispered, finding two of the remote motion sensor cameras still inside. The crew had not taken them all, and luckily the ones I was carrying were left behind to set up somewhere else on a different day's excursion. The cameras weren't large - no more than ten centimeters square. They each contained a rechargeable lithium ion battery that could last for a month before needing a new charge. They were also equipped with infrared technology to record at night. Each had a slot for an SD memory card, and we used 128 gigabyte cards in each so they could record in HD without running out of storage.

To test one, I set it to record and then took it into the warm darkness with me under the pile of sleeping bags. I set it down next to me as I continued to hash out my plan, which got me more and more excited. The 800mg of ibuprofen were having their desired effect and the sharp pain in my ankle had subsided to a dull ache. As I thought more about my scheme, the wetter I got and the louder the sounds coming from between my legs. As my excitement built I repositioned the camera to sit between my legs facing me. I had on my flannel but I wanted to see how well the camera could pick up subtle movements underneath fabric, specifically those of my hand buried in my knickers. Then I laid back and languidly enjoyed imagining Elias's reaction to my plan. There was no hurry - it would be many hours until the others returned. I was able to take my time and build up slowly.

All of a sudden panic set in, interrupting my excitement. What if he didn't like my smell? What if the most intimate scents of my body did nothing for him, or even worse, turned him off? I had my baby wipes, but I hadn't showered in over a week. My bold audacity to assume that he'd love it began to falter. At the same time, the thought that he would love it made me so aroused that I could clearly hear the wet squishy sounds as my fingers played in my labia.

I pulled my fingers out of my slick folds and gave them a tentative sniff, something I'd been doing religiously since the age of 13. I mostly did it to check for health and cleanliness, but there was also something about the musky richness that fascinated me. It seemed to trigger the firing of a specific set of neurons that resulted in a tiny light-headed sense of euphoria, followed by a nearly irresistible urge to take another whiff. The aroma was concentrated. Definitely more ripe than usual, but it didn't offend, or at least I didn't think so. But would Elias? Would he crave my scent the way young Aaron did in Colorado?

"No risk, no wickets," echoed my father's voice in my head, making reference to his favorite sport. When would I get another such opportunity? I needed to be bold. With one more sniff of my fingers, I steeled my resolve and relaxed back into my imagination.

It had been more than three weeks since my last orgasm and eventually my need to cum became overwhelming. My last dalliance with Aaron flashed through my head, the memory of how hard he fucked me on our last night together as I held the wet gusset of my panties tightly under his nose. In a flash Aaron's face was gone and it was Elias on top of me. I jammed three fingers into my pussy in rapid succession and furiously rubbed my clit at the same time, trying to match the action of my digits to the image of Elias slamming his hips down into mine. I came explosively, freely screaming out to the mountain as my body was wracked with convulsions. It took a full ten minutes for me to come down completely as I curled into a fetal position, my body still pulsing around my fingers as my hand remained trapped between my thighs. Moisture was everywhere. I'd made a total mess of myself.

Time to put my plan into action. With my relatively clean hand I cleared a small space above my head to let in some light, then located the sleeping bag that belonged to Elias. With my heart beating out of my chest, I searched for the pillow section that extends out a bit from the rest of the bag to offer head and neck support. Making a mental note that I was selecting the section on the left side, I removed my fingers from my pussy and wiped them there. Then I pulled down my flannel and used the same section to wipe up the mess between my thighs.

Once clean, I grabbed the camera and turned it off then pulled out the memory card. Next I reached for one of the laptops we'd use to check and store the footage caught by our cameras. I inserted the memory card and opened the file. There in black and white was me, at first talking silently to myself as I stared blankly into the darkness, and then there was the view from between my thighs, which looked like two hamsters wrestling under a blanket. Yes, these cameras would work out just fine.

I erased the memory card and inserted it back into the camera, and then thought about how I could strategically place it without notice. I settled on putting it back in my backpack but leaving the bag unzipped, with the eye of the camera pointed out of the hole, and positioning the hole to face us where we slept. My heart was still beating out of my chest. I was nervous, excited, and feeling a twinge of guilt. But I was also committed. No risk, no wickets.

All that was left for me to do was to find a way to balance on one leg and relieve myself without putting any weight on my sprained ankle. The need was getting urgent - I couldn't put it off any longer...

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I had worked out my plan fully by the time the groups returned. I begged Sonam to call off the rescue squad, explaining that I could still be useful as a shut-in by reviewing and sorting the footage on the memory cards we'd collect each day. By the evenings I'd have all relevant footage ready for them to review and could help map out strategies for other places to locate our cameras. After the 2-3 more weeks that we'd be up there, I reasoned, my ankle sprain should heal enough for me to hike down on my own. If not, we could call for a rescue then.

We discussed the pros and cons of this as a group. Many felt it was a sound idea, but Sonam wanted to examine my ankle again before he agreed to anything, reminding me of the admonishment he gave us the night before we set out to always heed his advice. I dreaded having my ankle unwrapped and exposed to the cold, but I had to suck it up and bear it if I wanted to conduct my research.

"The cold is actually good for you, to help reduce the swelling," Sonam explained.

"Yeah, I should go collect some snow so we can ice it," joked Taz.

"The bloody hell you will!"

"We can use her ankle to melt the snow for our drinking water tomorrow," Greg joined in.

"Eww!" squealed Jannell, scrunching up her face in a look of disgust. Others laughed.

"Toe jam soup - breakfast of champions!" Greg continued. Everyone groaned while Jannell made hurling noises and mimicked a vomit. It was the first time I'd heard Greg crack a joke. It was gross, but I was glad that he seemed to be warming up and feeling comfortable enough to let his humor fly.

"Is 'toe jam' what I think it is?" Sonam asked. He was chuckling.

"If you're thinking something disgusting, then yes," I confirmed. "I hope you're not getting any ideas..." He chuckled some more.

"No, I just need to make sure you're healing normally and not getting any worse. If it looks like you need to see a doctor urgently, I'm not taking any risks."

Once the ace bandage wrappings were removed we could see the extensive bruising that had spread around the ankle and back of my foot.

"Let me see you wiggle your toes," Sonam asked me. I did as instructed. He next asked me to bend my foot back and forth, then twist it around. It still hurt but I was able to perform each task. I'm sure all the ibuprofen coursing through my veins helped a lot.

"Everything looks normal for a sprain of this severity," he finally explained. "I guess you can stay." Everyone cheered at that. I had not realized just how much tension I was holding in my muscles with all the anxiety. The relief that I could stay and still be a part of the project was overwhelming. I fell asleep almost immediately, anxious for what the new day would bring.

Chapter 6

The morning routine the next day seemed to take forever before the teams were off and on their way. It was like they knew I had something that I wanted to do and for which I needed privacy, so they took extra time getting ready. Once we all had breakfast we took out a map to chart out the different areas the two teams would cover for the day. We based our strategy on satellite data we received from the bharal in which we put microchips. Plus, each team had to locate the cameras they placed the day before and swap out the memory cards. Once all that was done and water bottles were topped off, they finally set off and left me to myself. Taz gave me a bit of uplifting info before departing, however.

"Don't worry, Greg and I are using your strategy to place the cameras. If we find them it will be your ideas that led to our success." That made me feel so much better. I hugged her tight before they left.

Finally I had some privacy! The moment Taz walked out of our tent I scrambled quickly over to the motion sensory camera and retracted the SD memory card, then just as quickly scrambled back over to my laptop and inserted the memory card into the reader. Laptop in tow, I returned to my cocoon of sleeping bags and turned it on. A window popped open on my screen displaying the numerous video files on the SD card.

The camera begins recording whenever there is movement then shuts off when the movement ceases. In each instance, it saves the video as an individual file, to make it easier for one to later sort through and see what you've captured. I was so nervous that my hands were sweaty. I took a deep breath to steel my nerves then hit play. The first video captured us settling in for the night, and the next three showed us shifting and getting comfortable. We tended to be exhausted so there wasn't much tossing and turning, save for Elias.

He started out lying on his back. The camera captured his head turning back and forth to each side at about 25 minute intervals. Twenty minutes after he turned to his left for a second time, then he rolled over in that direction, planting his face inches from where I'd scent marked the padded headrest section on his sleeping bag. The next video file showed him shifting again until his face was pressed directly into my scent marking. The time stamp on the video read 2:26 AM, five minutes later than his previously captured movement. The rest of us remained still. The movements made by Elias were increasing in frequency in a manner to bring his nose as close as possible to my scent marking, which by that point was filling his lungs and his brain. Like a good scientist, I logged the entries into my journal.

I opened the next video file and watched confused, as I didn't see any movement. The rest of us were still and Elias, still lying on his stomach, seemed to be still as well. His face was in the exact same position, nose down and pressed into my scent marking. I rewound the video and watched more closely, as something obviously had to have triggered the camera to come on and begin recording. Then, near the bottom of the screen, I finally saw it. Subtle up and down movements around the middle of Elias's sleeping bag. "Oh my god!" I said out loud as it dawned on me just what was happening.

Warm moisture immediately began to pool in my sex as I sat there watching Elias dry humping the floor of our tent. I wondered if he was still asleep, or had his horniness awakened him by that point. There was no clear way to tell. I quickly entered the dry humping in my journal, however, and made note of the time.

What I couldn't be certain of is whether Elias found my scent marking by random chance of his tossing and turning or if he was able to pick up a slight hint of my musk and his turbulent sleep was the result of an effort to get closer to it until he found it. There was only one way to find out: I would have to scent mark his sleeping bag again, only the next time in a different location, and see whether he gravitated to the new spot in his sleep. I was a girl on a mission!

By the time the last video finished, there was major arousal going on in my pants. I watched the sequence of videos again as I leisurely began to masturbate, so turned on at watching Elias face plant right into the smell of my sex. I let one hand snake up under my shirt to find my nipples while the fingers from my other hand drew lazy circles around my clit. All the while my mind raced thinking through all the possibilities of where I could take this little experiment. Before long I had made another mess between my thighs as I lay convulsing under the sleeping bags.

Once again I used the pillow section of Elias's sleeping bag to clean up the mess between my legs and on my fingers, only this time I did so on the right side. Then I took out some baby wipes and tried to clean any lingering traces of my scent on the left side from the previous night. Once it was all set, I made note in my journal.

I quickly downloaded the existing video files on the SD card to my laptop and erased the SD card to free up memory. Then I inserted it back into the camera and set the timer to begin recording that evening.

I was filled with a kind of nervous elation and excitement. On the one hand, I felt a twinge of guilt that what I was doing was wrong - it was an unhygienic violation of his personal space where there was a reasonable expectation of privacy. On the other hand, this was the best data demonstrating the power of human pheromones that I'd ever had. This kind of research was notoriously difficult to secure academic funding to conduct. The NIH would never give me a grant for this. Private industry funders would salivate over this, however. Fragrance and bathing product producers would easily get on board with promising preliminary data. I just needed to produce more of it. It was an unethical research design because the subject didn't know he was part of an experiment and had not given his consent. Those were issues I'd have to worry about solving later.

I spent the rest of the day reading and napping until the teams came back. Everyone was giddy and excited to check the footage on the memory cards they collected, unable to wait for me to do so on my own the next day. I took out the laptop and began loading the files from each card as others prepared dinner and gathered snow to melt for our water. I made sure to put my clandestine footage of Elias in a password-protected hidden folder so there could be no accidental mixing of those files with the others. After dinner, we all huddled together to discover what we'd captured.