Young trophy wife

Mrs. Danvers was the 4th Mrs. Danvers. At 26 years old, the trophy wife of Edgar Danvers was 40 years her husband’s junior and worried enough about potential 5th Mrs. Danvers that she had recently gotten a silicon upgrade to her tits. Her blonde hair was perfectly coiffed in soft curls and a pink pill-box hat topped off an outfit that reminded Doug of Pepto-Bismol. If all went well, she wouldn’t be wearing it long anyway he consoled himself.

“How is Princess Tinkles today, Mrs. Danvers,” Doug asked, not letting the contempt show his voice.

“I think she might be a little depressed!” the wealthy woman exclaimed as the white Chihuahua with the pink rhinestone collar peaked out of her purse and yipped. The blonde was not quite as successful at hiding her West Virginia accent as she might have hoped.

“Well I’m sure Dr. Goodman will perk her right up!” Doug consoled. “She’s VERY good at that! Make sure Dr. Goodman isn’t disturbed while she’s with Princess Tinkles, Carla.”

“Of course, Doug!” said Dr. Goodman’s receptionist. Carla was in her late 50s and didn’t do anything for Doug, but he had made certain of two things: that she not suspect anything unusual was going on at the clinic and that she happily do as she was told by Doug and Dr. Goodman.

“Hello Princess Tinkles!” Dr. Goodman greeted the purse puppy. “How is my favorite Chihuahua today?”

“She’s a sad wittle puppy!” Mrs. Danvers said in a girly voice. “She doesn’t want to do her Pilates and…hey? What’s that smell?”

“Do you like it?” Dr. Goodman asked. “Doug introduced it to me. It’s aromatherapy! It really helps the dogs to be calm.”

“Really? That’s so cool!” Mrs. Danvers said. “It smells incredible! I can’t quite…what is it?”

“What’s your favorite smell?” Doug asked the blonde as her blue eyes dialated and her breathing became irregular.
“Huh? Um…Roses, I guess,” she said, confusion growing.

“Maybe it smells like roses then,” Doug suggested.

“It does!” Mrs. Danvers declared. “It does! Just like roses!”
“I think it smells like lilac,” Dr. Goodman disagreed.

Mrs. Danvers looked in confusion at the doctor. Doug held out the bottle of liquid he had worked so hard to develop and opened the cap.

“Smell it directly and tell me what you think it smells like,” Doug said.

Mrs. Danvers inhaled deeply from the bottle. Her eyes crossed and her jaw went slack.

“It smells like roses,” she said in a far-away voice. “It definitely smells like roses.”

It didn’t smell like anything, actually. But since the brain didn’t know how to react to what the **** did to it, it made up explanations. Unidentifiable odors seemed to be the most common reaction and if Doug could convince the subject of what it was they were smelling, he knew they would respond to the ****. He was ready to start training, he knew, has Mrs. Danvers once again inhaled deeply from the bottle.

“ROOOOOOOSEEEEEEESSSSSSSS,” she sighed and wobbled on her high heels. Doug wrapped an arm around her to steady her and she didn’t object. He didn’t smell anything. The antidote was working.

“Dizzy,” she exclaimed with a dopy grin.

“Why don’t you sit down with me while Dr. Goodman takes care of Princess Tinkles?” Doug suggested, taking the purse and it’s occupant from her yielding hands and handing it to the grinning vet. “Dr. Goodman will make your puppy aaaallll better. Doesn’t that make you happy?”

“HAPPY!” Mrs. Danvers agreed as he led her to a bench there beside the exam table.

“Besides, I’ve got some things I want to explain to you,” Doug told her. “Things you really need to know.”

“What do I need to know?” she asked, her mind open for anything.