At this point I like to imagine the president of OSC is basically a Japanese equivalent of the Daily Bugle’s J. Jonah Jameson, except he’s after something much more valuable than pictures of Spider-Man.
“Bring me SCENTS of SWEATY CLASSMATES” he demands, banging his fist on the desk.
(Ten seconds well spent)
Every employee from the company is there, awkwardly crammed together in his office. Nobody dares break into a sweat; he’ll be onto them like a shark in bloodied waters. An unspoken test of impossible endurance is now taking place.
“I need the SMELL” he booms. “What have you got for me today, what CLASSMATE PERSPIRATION can we bottle by this afternoon?”
Nervous murmurs fill the air, followed by dead silence. Nobody has had time since submitting the last thirty examples the previous day. Sensing an imminent breakdown, one man bravely steps forward.
“Sir, we’ve been… we’ve been making a lot of smell fetish products themed around s-sweaty classmates. I can’t remember what this company was originally about before you had us d-doing this”, he pauses, grasping his water bottle tightly. “I-I can’t even remember what the outside world looks like”.
The president of OSC lurches forward, his face increasingly emulating that of a tomato being hit by a truck. “WHAT HAVE YOU GOT IN THERE” he screams, pointing at the intern’s water bottle.
“Sir it’s just wate-”
“GIVE ME THE SMELLS”
He begins inhaling; his flared nostrils producing a symphony of snort. Initially everyone starts laughing in child-like wonder, but they quickly find themselves gasping for air. The president of OSC has proceeded to violently consume the room’s entire supply of oxygen.
He keeps going. Various office supplies vanish into his face. Loose jewellery and/or skin is peeled off. Eventually the water bottle he simply could have reached over for is caught in the deadly suction; its legitimate water-related contents now mixed within the president’s brain fluid.
Windows shatter. The building begins to compress.
“SWEEEEEAAAAATY CLAAAAAAASSMAAAAA-” he yells, before the entire planet is pulled into the cramped depths of a nostril.
A detached nose is left to forever float through the universe. The quest continues.
And that’s how we ended up with this shit. Volleyball Classmate Sweaty Pants is OSC’s latest attempt at capturing the scent of a sweaty
school girl classmate, and what are we on now – the seventh product in less than a year? Eighth?
Jesus, OSC. Just calm down a bit. You don’t need to sell every single prototype smell. It’s not like you can patch a bottle of liquid. Applying one of those would just absorb all of it.
But yeah, it smells like… uh, very little. There’s absolutely nothing ‘sweaty’ about this. At best, I guess maybe a very slight hint of washing powder? Like, some sorta floral perfume kinda thing.
Perhaps they were sweaty volleyball classmate pants at one point, but then they went in the wash. WHY WOULD YOU BOTTLE THE NON-EXISTENT SCENT OF FRESHLY WASHED CLOTHES.
You get a pair of panties with it though. That’s pretty nice.
A ribbon? This is too fancy, I’m getting nervous.
They’re very good for soaking up liquid; much better than using your skin. However just like OSC’s other smell fetish goods that include a scrunched up pair of panties, this also bumps up the price by a looooot.
I grabbed this from Otona-Sekai because they’re the only import retailer brave enough to stock absolutely everything OSC releases, but it was about $34. I could have bought a pretty good onahole or 34 second hand copies of Russell Grant’s Astrology for that.
The smell fetish game is a brutal one.
And I can’t get over how insanely dull the scent is. Tryin’ not to get too weird here since there’s nothing worse than someone rambling about their specific kinks in excruciating detail, but I’d expect a sweat-drenched pair of bloomers to have a fairly powerful mix of sour, salty… something. Maybe a bit of volleyball in there. Like the actual ball.
Not this weak liquid detergent scent that vanishes a few seconds later.
OSC have a lot of duds in their massive smell fetish range, but wow. Volleyball Classmate Sweaty Pants is easily the worst yet. Don’t bother. :’)
Volleyball Classmate Sweaty Pants
+ The panties included in the box have a cute little ribbon thing
– Barely smells like anything. Certainly nothing close to what anyone would possibly imagine a volleyball classmate’s sweaty pants to smell like
– The absurd price is the real stinker here
– OSC, please stop using these rubbish bottle designs for your smell fetish products oh my god