Agoge University
by skunkyfarts

Agoge University, Arc 1: Join the Club, Chapter 1: Hell Week

On the sunny beaches of California, in a dense forested area, there was positioned a plethora of large castle-shaped buildings were positioned. Each with a coned top except for the main building in the middle, which had towers on all four of its corners, and then three larger cones followed by one central larger cone. It appeared like the cones themselves would pierce the sky as this ancient building stood even until this day. From the year 1800 until now, Agoge University stood tall and mighty. Its purpose was to train the gifted and talented of the world for defense, assault, and everyday living. Back in those ancient times, those with special gifts were thoroughly hidden, afraid of being called witches, heretics, or demons. Now, in the year 6429, the ancient school looked much of the same on the outside, but its insides were a marvel to behold even by conventional standards for the time.

The professors and alumni of the school had worked hard over the years to weave technology and magic together; the gifted and talented graduates were often able to help build, repair, or construct the things needed. This school was, after all, a safe haven even now that different powers were known. Just because the world knew of different powers didn’t mean they trusted all power users, and every powered user wasn’t exactly a saint. Many past crimes were able to be attributed to one with such power; many current crimes were being committed by powerful people. They still needed a safe place to grow, learn, and adapt to the world outside. Every so often, a person's power was so different, so ghastly, they stayed at the university for life, working as a professor or aid in some way. The school was filled with all sorts of people, those with flight, super strength, super speed, fire, or other elements, witchcraft, wizardry, sorcery, the whole gamut.

On this particular special week, the school was decorated with all sorts of banners and booths set up all around. It was Rush Week, and it was time for each student to decide if they wanted to join one of the many fraternities or sororities aligning with their power, personality, or goals. There was a specific red-haired girl who seemed to be looking around, judging whether such a thing would be good or not. She saw many booths, many options, and every so often, one of the booth owners would wave at her, she’d walk close, and they’d shoo her off. Her name was Amora, Amora Sophia Steele. The reason for people covering their noses was her signature potent stench that flowed off her. She was notorious for not changing her underwear, or her clothes in general, never wearing deodorant, and farting up a storm in the most inappropriate places. She was also one of the freshmen known to bomb a bathroom and have it linger for hours. She was the daughter of Fiona Allison Rotunda Thatcher-Steele, a mouthful of a full name and a mouthful of a history. During an assault on the Earth by one of the many alien races, the Cainids, a werewolf-like species, tried to take on the US, and their major forces were stopped by Fiona, her foul stench, and other alumni of her legendary sorority.

Seeing that she wasn’t going to get into any other sorority, she sighed and started to make the trek across campus to a more secluded place. As she approached, the familiar smells of rancid armpits, foul feet, and disgusting farts wafted her way on the breeze. When she came into view, she saw several ladies lounging about, eating different foods, and chit-chatting. That is, until they saw Amora. “Hey, are you trying to pledge?” She asked with a happy smile and a welcoming tone.

“Yeah, I mean I tried joining other places first, but…” She was interrupted by a medium height caucasian woman with long, greasy blonde hair and blue eyes. Her own clothes looked pristine, but as she moved while she spoke, one could pick up on sweat stains starting to form as the group was sitting in partial sun, particularly the woman. Her name was Ashley Grant, and she was the president of Phi Omega Upsilon Lambda, a sorority of stinky, foul girls. It was founded in the mid-2050s as the desire to be traditionally pristine and proper had declined enough to have its own counterculture.

“They took one whiff of you and shewed you away like garbage?” She asked, sniffing the air and having her eyes light up. “I mean, you do stink, girl. When was the last time you changed your clothes, touched soap? Do you want to offend everyone you meet?” She asked with a glare of darts. Even though most of the women around her seemed to have different filthy habits, none of them seemed to let themselves go as far as Amora. Her sweat-stained pink blouse had huge dark spots under the armpits and breasts, her ample cleavage glistening with beads of sweat she had even now. She wore a pair of black cloth pants, and upon close inspection, they’d notice a large moisture pattern forming just around her cunt and going right up her asscrack.

“Uhm, like two months, I think?” She stated, rubbing her head, allowing them to see her full armpit stain, it went from the start of her ribs to half of her biceps, just concentrated, putrid sweat. When her armpit lifted, the wind blew in the opposite direction for a moment, wafting her scent their way full force. Everyone had a look, one of pride, but also of concern. She stank about as bad as some of their senior members' armpits, and she wasn’t one of them yet? “I really don’t count, I just wear the clothes until I feel like taking them off. As for the shower thing, no, I don’t shower like ever. Okay, maybe once every few months to avoid infections, but I go as long as I can each time.” She nodded. The other girls started to perk up, hearing all of this.

“Well, we’ve gotten four other pledges today, and if you want to sign up, you certainly can. Just one thing, though, it’s going to be Hell”, Ashley stated with pride, “That means we’ll be pushing your tolerance for stink as far as we can, and you’ll be exposed to some smells you might’ve never seen before.” Ashley stated that before presenting her with a clipboard, Amora took another sniff of Ashley's armpits. No wonder she was impressed by Amora; her own armpits weren’t that strong. Perhaps she had some other odors she was hiding? She signed her full name and handed it back before Ashley gasped.

“Wait, are you related to Fiona Steele? Like the Fiona Steele who repelled those weird dog things with her farts and defeated their leader with a single stinky foot?” Ashley gasped some but Amora just nodded. “Oh, well, we have big expectations for you. Now, before we take you to the house, you have to prove your dedication. Sniff my ass.” She turned around, showing a plump, tight bubble butt that resembled a yoga instructor. Amora didn’t say a thing. She fell to her knees, her thigh-high black boots covering her from the rocks on the ground as they were partially in the forest on the outskirts of the school. When Ashley put her ass to Amora’s face, the latter noticed it instantly. She hadn’t changed her panties in a long time; the smell of ass sweat, stale farts, and more stung her nose. She didn’t flinch much, though; this was like walking behind her mother just a little less foul. Soon her hair blew for a few moments as Ashley let out a loud-sounding fart that lasted for about ten seconds. It was foul enough to have a visible, faint yellow odor. Amora already knew what to do and started tos niff loudly, and after a minute, Ashley turned around to see Amora’s emotionless expression.

“Sorry if you expected more, but that reminds me of my little brother on bean night.” She stated, “I don’t think you went all out, though, of course, why would you nuke your hopeful members?” She stated calmly before standing up. That was when a chubby dark dark-skinned African American woman came up to her; she had previously been sitting and eating.

“Follow me.’ That was all she stated before walking off and having Amora trail her. Now her ass was nasty; each step caused a thick cloud of yellow to flow from her as her cheeks clapped. Amora noticed this and didn’t say much, simply walking into the stench and appreciating an odor that was worth her time for once. When the chubby dark skinned beauty picked up on this, she began releasing her signature bass-rattling farts with every other step; it sounded like a giant duck was waddling along. The visual of her cheeks shifting and practically eating her yoga pants was also an enjoyable one. Her name was Becky, and little did Amora know, but she was the Treasurer of the sorority who always liked to be at the booth for the first couple of days of pledges. After all, some senior member needed to make sure Ashley, the pledge chair, wasn’t just taking in poor people. After a short five-minute walk, never once stepping back on the campus grounds but walking its perimeter, they found themselves in front of a large three-story house with several balconies. The construction looked old, like a modern art asymmetrical home that billionaires from the 2000s era would want. “Now, as we go inside, I suggest you brace yourself. Here’s this if you need it.” She smiled, handing her a surgical mask.

Amora followed behind, determined to show as little of a reaction as possible to what might be coming up. Now her mother was perhaps the most famous stinker in America at the present time, and she did prepare Amora for all the world of stink could have for her; however, she was only one person. The combined stench of over two hundred women hit Amora as a semitruck would hit a solid titanium wall. The woman clenched her teeth as she stepped in, her eyes watering. “Okay, this is a smell,” She stated before bravely taking in a huge breath through her nose just so Becky could see, as the woman had turned around to see Amora’s reaction. After that breath was taken in Amora’s eyes started to stream with tears, but the woman never coughed, didn’t seem to be fainting, and most importantly kept her footing firm. She tried to decipher the smell, but it was impossible. This was a fine mixture of farts, smelly cunts, sweaty asses and armpits, people's foul breath, and bathrooms that were in a permanent stink cloud as any woman in the facility chose to blast them. Even now, the faint sounds of straining, farting, and toilets flushing could be heard. “Very potent,” She stated.

“This is our combined smell, and if you’re lucky someday your smell will be added to this glorious perfume. Now let me take you to meet the other pledge,” Beck nodded before walking the woman into the common room, not letting up on the farts. In the common room, Amora saw the four new girls, two of them had on their surgical masks and seemed to be fanning their faces with a magazine. The other two had teary eyes and would occasionally gag. “This common room is for you girls. We’ve instructed members to leave you alone in here and allow you to get used to the stench. Of course, if you can’t take it, you can leave. The fridge is over there; it has bottles of water if you want them. And it has some finger food prepared for y’all, if you wanna eat that is.” She giggled before turning and giving them all one large fart blast before she left. “Enjoy my gift.” The two with surgical masks broke out into a fit of coughs as they fanned their faces faster before trying to fan away the potent poot.

“It’s everywhere’ One girl stated as she pleaded to any God that would listen to let her survive this and make it into this Sorority. She, too, was stinky, but she didn’t know certain people had this kind of funk.

“It’s not too bad,” Amora stated, gathering the attention of all four girls. The two without masks were gagging, holding their throats; the two with masks had stopped fanning and just stared in awe. “No, really, it’s not that bad. My Mom has worse.” She laughed, tilting her ass to the side. Every girl on the couch knew what she was about to do…

“No, no, no, you don’t have to make it worse!’ One of the unmasked girls, named Prudence, spoke out. She was starting to get used to the stench and had stopped gagging, but her eyes were watering. By now, Amora was adapted to this smell; her eyes stopped watering, and she was ready to have some fun. In theory, she should be able to let loose, right?”

“Seriously, wait, you have those sweat lines on your ass, we don’t need more funk blown our way!” The masked blue-haired girl stated, her name was Jean, and she was starting to get used to the stink, too, about to take off her mask until she saw this.

“Naw, it’s a filthy sorority, the goal is to get filthy right?” Amora stated before putting a hand on one of her mighty ass cheeks. First, there was no sound, only a steady flow of dark yellow gas covering them, sending them all into coughing fits. Then the fart took on a high-pitched squeal that threatened to crack glass before it dramatically dropped into a flabby wobbly bass, shaking the couch. It sounded so disgustingly wet; certainly, her panties needed to be changed after that two-minute behemoth. The whole house seemed silent as everyone, members and the four girls, had to process what they just heard. The room had a faint dark yellow hue now as her gas started to spread throughout. The other masked girl had fainted, and the other unmasked woman had stood up and moved away, fanning her pinched nose.

“That’s a weapon!” She commented, looking for a chair across the room. “A weapon of gas destruction, I swear you could kill a man with that!” The other two girls followed suit, giving her distance as they suffered the lingering effects of that powerful blast, leaving Amora to spread out on the couch all to herself. She raised her armpits, and that stench started to thicken and mix with the foul fart odor. Moments later, off came her boots as she unzipped them and wiggled her bare feet. The concentrated vinegar stench of her feet mixed in again before all three of the girls who had left just gasped in silence. “... she reeks…” Prudence muttered with a high-pitched pitched nasal voice that was muffled as she pinched her nose and covered her mouth. The girls, in the vacuum of sound, heard the clicking of high heels and chatter “I swear it came from in here.” A high-pitched preppy voice was heard before five girls walked in, Becky being one of them, and each of them had shocked on their face.