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The stink lizard stops in his tracks and coyly looks over his shoulder at you. "Don't think I didn't notice that," he says. He points at one of his triangular ears. "I heard it. You sniffed, and then coughed... and then, you sniffed again." He grins, showing off his yellowish teeth. He turns around to face you and folds his arms. He is a green-scaled lizard-like fellow, about 6 feet tall, and is dressed in a plain white button-down long-sleeved shirt, baggy black pants, and brown shoes. On top of his head sits a swatch of long white fur, with more running down the back of his neck. The same fur spreads out from his tail, giving it the appearance of a graceful white plume, with a black stripe running down the center. He looks enough like a skunk from behind that of course you couldn't help but sniff him as he passed by, just to see how skunk-like he really is.

The stink lizard clears his throat to get your attention as your eyes wander over his appearance. "As I was saying... you sniffed me twice. So, do you like my scent?" He takes a step towards you as he folds his lips over his teeth into a mischievous smirk, casually putting a hand on his hip. "If you want to smell what else I can do... follow me." He turns back around and waves over his shoulder. "If not, then, I'll see you later." He turns and starts walking towards an apartment building across the plaza, his wide tail playfully swishing from side to side. You catch a strong whiff of his body odor in his wake - a pungent, sour stink of ripe sweat, along with an unclean, primal sort of funk that you've never smelled before.

You decide to follow him, of course, because otherwise, your experience would end there. You dash across the path and catch up to him as he enters the apartment complex and presses the elevator button. You stand next to him for a couple of awkward seconds before the mechanical whirring of the elevator breaks the silence. "I am a stink lizard, you know," he says suddenly. "In my homeland, we collect odors upon our bodies, and wear them as a badge of pride. They show where we've been, and what we've encountered." He suddenly turns and looks you in the eye. "And, we also use our stenches to topple our foes." His breath is amazingly foul, almost making you gag right there, and you turn away slightly to avoid taking his smelly assault directly on your face as he speaks. "This is your last chance. If you don't think you can stand it... don't follow me up." He sounds serious, but he grins devilishly at you again as the doors open. He steps inside and mashes the back of his wrist against a floor button. You follow, reluctantly, and stand in silence as the two of you are lifted off the ground. Your eyes drift back to his large, fluffy tail, and you wonder how it stays so clean when the rest of his body is so rank. "Before you say it," he says, not looking at you. "No, I'm not going to fart in the elevator. That is so cliched by now." He looks at you brightly. "It's also a waste of gas. I have to save as much as I can for you, after all." The doors open, and he glides past you toward a room on the end of the hall. He unlocks the door, and a rush of cold, stagnant air spills out.

This apartment seems to be a single bare room, and it's completely empty and unfurnished except for a cheap folding chair in the middle. Even the floor is basic tile and not carpeted. "Here we are," the stink lizard says, nudging the light switch with the side of his arm. He senses the puzzlement in your expression, and laughs slightly. "No, I'm not going to tie you up and torture you to death. This is my, er, sample room." He looks back toward the middle of the room. "Where I give out... samples. Trust me, you aren't the first with an interest in my odors. Anyway, there is less to clean up after when it's empty like this. So, relax." He shuts the door behind you and secures the latch. "Oh! I should have mentioned... you will stink after this is all over." He stops in front of you and suddenly offers his claw. "My name is Stizz, by the way." You offer your paw and shake, before being escorted toward the chair.

Stizz stops you in front of it, then circles around and takes the seat for himself. "We'll start off easy," he says, smiling up at you. "Since you liked my body odor so much, come have a whiff up close." He sits back and lifts his arm up. A slightly yellowish sweat stain can be seen on his shirt around his armpit area. "This way, I'll know whether you can really take it. Come on, sniff up," he taunts, beckoning you with his other claw. You start to lean closer, but your eyes are already tearing up from the stench wafting off of his armpit. This lizard stinks of sour, swampy musk, far stronger than a healthy person should smell, as if he hasn't washed in months! Despite the eye-burning reek rolling off him, you drift closer and closer, finally kneeling next to him and planting your nose on the cold, damp cloth of his shirt. You take short, light sniffs at first, letting his sour cologne sting your airways, then begin smelling him more aggressively as you grow accustomed to his potent musk. He lowers his hand and pats you on top of the head as he continues to offer up his sweaty armpit. "So, you do like that," he says gently. "Most people can't stand my smell, even through my clothes." He pauses a moment. "Would you like to smell it from the source?"

You snort once, wiping the cold sweat and weepy mucus from your nose, and stand up. Stizz stands up with you. He pulls his arms through his sleeves, and in one swift motion, lifts his shirt up off his body and tosses it against a wall. He is green-scaled all over, with lighter, smaller, softer scales on his throat and belly. His white hair runs down his neck and along his spine, disappearing into the waistband of his pants. His scales have an oily sheen upon them; it could be sweat, or something else, but his whole body reeks of his swampy musk now that his shirt isn't holding it back. You drag your nose along his chest, feeling the cold slickness of his scales and the softer skin on his chest as you sniff him slowly. He stinks, deeply and thoroughly, but it is a natural, musky stench that almost feels satisfying to breathe in and out, despite how truly rank it is.

Stizz lifts his elbow up and points his armpit toward you. The same soft, white hair on his head seems to be growing inside his underarm as well. It is short, but thick, and is drawn together at several points, like wet fur. You see trickles of sweat leaking from the hairy jungle; glistening, and slightly yellow. The unfettered stink is intense, now; his shirt must be very thick to keep this amount of body odor contained so well, and ironically, it's probably why he's sweating so much in the first place! You lean toward his swampy armpit, pacing yourself with small sniffs as your nose draws closer. Each whiff stings your nose and makes your eyes water a little bit more, but something about his thick, pungent musk is so unusual and alien to you that you can't help but continue to breathe it in. Before you know it, your nose is pressing up against his wet, sweaty armpit fur; it's light, and soft, but quite dense, and very, very smelly. His pit musk is strong enough that it's starting to leave an acrid taste in your mouth every time you breathe in. You wipe your tongue against the roof of your mouth and swallow, then sniff again. The lizard's strange, powerful, hypnotic stink is starting to make you feel dizzy, and drunken, and you realize you're now holding onto his shoulder to prop yourself upright as you huff his fragrant musk. Stizz smiles down at you, bracing himself to support your weight. Your throat starts to burn as the rancid stink makes its way down toward your lungs, and you turn away and cough wetly as you finally start to choke on the thick stench of his awful body odor.

"Alright, maybe it's time for something else," Stizz says, lowering his arm and cutting off the flow of musk spewing from his furry armpit. "Take a moment and catch your breath. I don't want to make you sick," he says gently. He suddenly smirks. "Not yet, at least." You shake off his threat - it couldn't get much worse than this, after all - and hack a few times as the sour taste and burning sensation finally drain from your throat. When you look up again, Stizz is bending forward in his seat and unfastening his brown shoes. He sits upright, then kicks them off swiftly, launching them into the far wall where they land with a pair of dull plops. His paws are large and green-scaled, with large toe-like claws on each foot. You realize he wasn't wearing socks, and a salty, musky, manure-like stench of unclean foot funk rolls over you a few seconds later. Stizz grins at you and wriggles his toes. "Most stink lizards don't actually wear shoes, so, their feet never get this ripe." He crosses one leg over the other, bending his knee and pointing the yellow-skinned sole of his paw towards you. "So, this is a special treat for you, friend. Why don't you have a whiff, and see what they're missing out on?"

You cock your head to the side to match the angle of his sweaty paw, then gently take hold of his heel and the top of the foot as you draw your snout up to his soft, scaled sole. His paw-stink is salty and sweaty, like regular foot odor combined with a tamer version of his armpit musk, but it's also powerfully marsh-like. Unlike the pungent, stinging stench of his armpit, this is a dense and dirty reek: earthy, cheesy, sour, bitter, and musty, all at once. You rub the side of your face against his paw sole, unable to contain yourself. Stizz jerks up slightly at the ticklish feeling. "Would you like to... lie down?" he asks. Lie down? That sounds like a great idea, you think. You're still rather dizzy, after all. The lizard lifts his legs into the air as you sit in front of him, facing away, and then fall onto your back. You're looking straight up at the plain white ceiling, with Stizz peering back down at you. His dark pants and green footpaws suddenly come back into view, and in an instant, he's pinning down your face with his funky paws!

You start to struggle, so Stizz speaks again. "Shh. Relax. Just lie still. Let the musk... come to you." He rubs his damp paws against your cheeks, massaging your face gently as you suddenly feel relaxed. The thick, swampy paw odor is twice as bad now, but the drunken feeling starts to return, and you suddenly decide you need to smell it more than anything else! You quickly bring your hands up to your face and grab on to each of his footpaws, then press them both onto the sides of your nose into a stinky little triangle. You start huffing the smelly paw funk, alternating between loud sniffs and moans as the musky, marshy stink cakes your airways. Again, his stench is making you a little sick, but you also feel relaxed, and you continue huffing his reeking feet as you greedily devour the earthy, salty stink. After several more huffs, your breaths start to become raspy and labored, and your vision starts to darken. The world seems to spin while you lie in place, and you think you can hear Stizz's voice calling to you.

In an instant, the world snaps back into place, but the lizard's paws are gone. Instead, you find yourself sitting upright, with Stizz propping up your shoulders. His face is hovering very close to yours, with his long lizard snout nearly touching your nose. "Are you back with me?" he says with concern. His horrible, noxious breath floats into your nose, and you gasp and cough as the stink wakes you up and your mind springs to life once more. You sit up under your own power, still dizzy and drunk feeling, and Stizz drops his arm from your shoulders and smiles. "You hyperventilated, and passed out. I've never seen someone enjoy my paws that much," he says with a smile. "When most people pass out around me, it's from the shock of my stink," he adds, smirking playfully. His breath swarms around your face again, and it is truly disgusting: it reeks like the most heinous morning breath you've ever smelled in your life, along with the rotten stink of a giant lizard's filthy mouth, and both odors are cranked up to 11. You start coughing again and turn your head as you gently push him away from you.

Stizz looks concerned. "Is my breath bothering you?" he asks. Unlike his musk, his halitosis is a raw, savage stench that is not pleasant on any level! He gives you a moment to recover. "Would you... like to learn to love it?" he asks, keeping his distance, though his smelly breath still manages to reach your nose. His voice is soft, and inviting, and his musk is still playing tricks on your mind, so you force a dopey smile and nod to him. He smiles brightly, helping you stand and escorting you to the chair. The stink lizard's body odor billows all around him, making you feel dizzy and foggy one more - it seems like whatever it is in his musk that does this to you is having a cumulative effect. You caress his underarm and chest with your nose, sniffing his smelly scales as he turns and sets you upright in the chair.

"Let's play a little game, then," Stizz says as he stands over you. "I'll let you sample my breath, up close. I will stop any time you want... or, if you pass out again. But, if you can stand it for long enough..." He turns his hips slightly and starts to sway his tail back and forth as he points down at himself with his thumb. "...I'll give you a sample of sample what comes out of the other end. Deal?" He doesn't even wait for a response as he approaches you and sits his thin frame on your lap. Surprisingly, the cheap chair can support both of your weights. He gently puts an arm around your shoulders. "And, how long is long enough?" he teases. He suddenly leans his face in very close to yours. "When I ssssssssay it is," he hisses, spraying a sharp stream of putrid halitosis into your face. You grimace and cough, and Stizz chuckles and sits back. "Too much for you already?" he asks. The stink of his breath is so rotten, so vile, so heavy, that every instinct you have is telling you that it is a deadly presence that should be purged. However, the pungent, dreamy musk still wafting off his body is making your limbs and reflexes feel numb, and you barely even recoil as he draws his maw close to your face again and opens his jaws slightly.

"Hhhhahh," Stizz breathes, quickly and gently upon the end of your snout, causing you to wince. Amazingly, his foul breath somehow smells even worse when it is hot and fresh from the open sewer he calls a mouth, and you tense up and try not to breathe much of it in. You slowly open your eyes and see Stizz staring back at you, smiling and waiting. You realize he is giving the stink to you in small doses, so that you can get used to it. Perhaps, eventually, you will grow to love it, like he promised, but right now, it's extremely nauseating to behold. You shut your eyes and lift your chin as you present your nose, using every bit of focus you have left on surviving the stink. "Hhah," he huffs, short and hot, and the rancid stench of lizard breath burns your nostrils as you accidentally inhale at just the wrong moment. You quake and shudder, suppressing your urge to gag or vomit or run screaming out of the room, even as his humid halitosis decides to hang around and condense inside your sinuses. You snort and cough and shake your head, but the stench still lingers inside.

"Stinks, doesn't it?" Stizz says gently, bombarding your with even more awful halitosis whenever he speaks. "It's completely natural, too. Can you believe that? Some people think it's my worst smell," he says, chucking as you try to hold your breath. "But, those people just haven't made me mad enough. Or, come clossssssse enough," he hisses again, spraying more toxic breath into your face. You try very hard not to gag, which only makes the stinky lizard more aggressive. "Tell you what," he says as he pats the back of your quivering head. "One more test. If you survive it, I'll give you your reward." He leans toward you as he begins taking in a long breath through his nostrils. His chest starts to inflate, and you start to grow very, very worried that you won't be able to make it through a stinking of this caliber. Turning your head away offers little protection as he deeply and raspily exhales a hot, putrid wall of his dragon breath upon you! You cough and sputter and sniffle, almost blacking out for a second time as you are unable to escape the huge, rotten cloud of halitosis. The lizard just smiles, sitting on your lap and pinning you in place, clearly enjoying your disgusted reaction. The stink cloud spreads quickly after leaving his mouth, but the humid stench continues to hang over you, though it becomes more bearable as the seconds pass and it cools down to room temperature. "Very good," Stizz says, sounding honestly impressed. "I've knocked furs out with just my breath, before. You should be proud!" He gives you a playful little lizard lick on the tip of your nose, pasting you with his putrid saliva, and hops off your lap onto his feet. You quickly wipe away his stinky drool, but the smell continues to linger for several seconds, and you almost choke again. How could this lizard smell any worse than that, you wonder?

"OK, OK," he says reassuringly, chuckling and waving his claws. "I won't try to stink you out with my breath anymore. Instead, I'm going to sit on you." He snaps his fingers once and points at the floor. "Come on. Lie down." You blink groggily, still infected with his dizzying musk, and decide to obey, lazily sliding down off the front of the chair and landing on your rump with a hard smack. You suck some air in through your teeth as a response to the mild pain, then lean back after Stizz slides the chair away toward the wall. The stink lizard stands over you, facing away; his beautiful tail hangs over your face and diffuses the light from overhead. His reeking feet rest on either side of your chest, and you fight every urge to start huffing them again. You brush the back of your hand against his pants - the material is very soft and light, and you pinch it between your fingers to get a better feel for it. They seem to float around his legs, billowing and shiny, like two black clouds made of silk. "You like those?" Stizz asks from overhead. "Pricey, but they wear like a dream. And they breathe oh so well, as you'll see in a moment."

Stizz descends onto his knees, immediately blanketing your vision with his soft, black pants as his scaley rear comes to rest gently upon your face and forces the back of your head to the floor. The musk coming off the warm seat of his pants is absolutely insane! It's almost as bad as his raw armpits, but with a sour saltiness from the sweat that had been pooling up underneath his tail as he sat all day long, as well as a rank swampiness of farts that had been passing through and clinging to the fabric. It's every dirty, filthy bodily stink you could possibly want, all rolled into one, and your head is completely trapped within this soft, dark, smelly tent. You gasp at first, overwhelmed by the suffocating stench, then begin greedily sniffing, unable to contain your lust for the stink. Stizz briefly adjusts his position, softly grinding his smelly seat against your face as he moves, which drives you even more wild. "Take it easy, now," he says down to you. "Remember to breathe." His raunchy, hypnotic musk has completely infested your brain, so you obey, taking deep but gentle sniffs of his salty, swampy butt funk and exhaling each breath slowly. You're not sure how you'll be able to live without his musk; he has you totally wrapped around his finger, but thankfully he doesn't seem to be the type to take advantage of you while you are under his smelly spell.

"Good, that's good," Stizz coos, shuddering with pleasure as he blankets you with his stink. He sighs quietly as he feels the sensation of your nose pressing his pants up against his slit. "I could sit like this all afternoon," he says softly. "But, unfortunately, I have to be somewhere soon, so I'm going to finish you off now." You aren't exactly sure what he means, but the fact that you're still trapped underneath his smelly lizard butt gives you some ideas, and you shiver with anticipation. You breathe in another rush of salty, swampy funk, then affectionately rub your face against the seat of his pants, as if to let him know you're ready for what he wants to do next. To your surprise, he stands up off his knees, one leg at a time, and continues to hover over you. You sit upright so your nose can follow his funky rear, but he looks back at you and shakes his head. "Stay down," he commands, and so you obey without question.

He fidgets with something at his waistline, and you realize he is unbuttoning his trousers right in front of you! He steps out of his pants, one leg at a time, and before you know it, he is standing bare-scaled over you. A rush of dizzying musk escapes from beneath his thighs, spilling out over you and filling the air with a swampy, sour tang, which your nose inhales greedily. He lifts the shed leggings up to his backside as he pulls the tip of his tail close to his body with his other hand, then carefully slips the clothing off of the entire length of his tail before tossing the black pants toward where his shoes landed previously. His entire figure is naked now, and looks taut and trim while also being a little bit shapely where it matters most. The white hair growing on his head and back seems to also grow in patches between his legs and beneath the base of his tail, cloaking his lizard-like slit from a clear view. He doesn't seem shy about it at all; rather, he takes a shuddering whiff as the bodily musk that was trapped inside his pants wafts up around him. "Oh, I think you're going to enjoy this," he teases, smiling down at you as you lay flat. "Or, at least... I am."

He eases onto his knees again and envelops your face with his bare, fur-packed haunches, and gently lowers the bottom of his tail over your forehead and lets it lie against the ground. His butt-musk is truly staggering now, and you gasp and almost begin to choke as it fills your lungs. The simple, pleasant, salty swamp funk from the seat of his pants is now a harsh reminder that he is a stink lizard, capable of felling and tormenting his foes with a single whiff of his ripe musk. You cough deeply, ruffling his white fur and tail hair with your breath as you suffer his stench. Stizz chuckles, curling his tail slightly so the thick fur that grows from it cocoons around you, containing his vile musk and filthy reek in the small space around your head so it can be fully appreciated. The thick white fur growing on his backside seems to have years' worth of rankness trapped within it, and every tiny movement you make agitates it and causes more of the fetid stench to spill out. The strangely enticing, hypnotic quality of his body odor is almost completely replaced by a sickened feeling of disgust, and for a moment, you fear he truly will try to smother you, as he had promised to "finish you off" some minutes prior.

Instead, your now-clearing mind briefly recalls what he said in the elevator - that he was saving his gas for later. How could you have forgotten such a disgusting promise? Maybe you thought he was joking. Maybe you didn't think he would be this harsh on you. Maybe there was still time to escape with your lungs and your gag reflex intact. All of these questions are answered as a hissing, sputtering stream of hot air escapes his slit, and a putrid, rotten, musty reek of lizard gas immediately surrounds your face. SSSSSSSFFFPRPRPRRRP! You try to turn and thrash weakly, but the stinky lizard has clearly done this before, as he has you effortlessly pinned between his smelly thighs! He waits a moment as the thick cloud of gas begins choking you, and starts chuckling silently. As soon as you stop gagging and fall still, he lets loose again, stinging your nostrils with another rumble of toxic stink. BRRRBRRRMMMBBPFFFF! You manage to cry out one time between your hopeless gasps, wanting more than anything to huff his sweaty armpit again to force yourself back into a trance. There is nothing pleasant about the situation now, though, as it is clear Stizz is bent on completely stinking you out! He leans forward and lifts his tail slightly, seeming to strain as he launches a third gas attack. BffffFFFFPPPPBPBBPB! His harsh stink floods your nostrils, and your chest bucks and your head bounces around as you cough uncontrollably, your lungs desperate for clean air.

Stizz's tail lowers as his butt comes to rest, though it still remains mashed against your snout for a few minutes after the gassy onslaught. His tail bobs up occasionally, as if he's about to let you have it again, but nothing emerges, and he seems to have finally run out of gas to torture you with. He looks back and nudges his tail out of the way to see your face, and smiles. "You survived the whole thing. Bravo!" He mercifully lifts his sweaty rear off your face; you feel your skin sticking to several of his scales as it peels away. He stands up and towers over you, offering you a claw, but you are far too weak and dizzy to stand just yet. He chuckles and retrieves the chair, sliding it over to your resting place and taking a seat while he waits for you to recover. "Did you have a good time?" he asks, as your vision finally clears and you can breathe normally without the urge to gag again. He kneels and offers his claw once more, and you latch on to it. He swiftly lifts you up before pulling you close to his chest, and all at once, his raunchy body odor swells through your nostrils and infects your mind again. "I know I did," he says softly, briefly stinking up the air with a short yet putrid stream of halitosis. "I want to mark you, so I can find you again," he explains. "We do it all the time in the wild. Don't worry... it doesn't hurt." He lets go of you, knowing his musk has saturated your airways once more, and points at your chest. "Take off your shirt for me, would you?"

Once again, you have no choice but to comply. You slide it off and mimic his actions from before, carelessly slinging your shirt against the far wall in front of you, where it lands next to his shoes and other smelly, sweaty clothes. He turns away from you and bends forward, lifting his great fluffy tail into the air. His rear is pointing right at your chest, and thick swampy fumes wash over you. "Remember when I promised that you would stink afterward?" Stizz asks, sounding strangely polite as he offers such a vile threat. As if the traces of his sweat and gas and bad breath that are smeared and stained upon you weren't enough, it seems he has one last thing to offer you. The fur-lined flesh around his slit seems to twitch and bulge slightly, and a pair of small red organs spill out. They look like a couple of elongated grapes, each about an inch long. The sprayers immediately stand on end and point straight toward you, and a fine mist of yellowish musk is ejected from them, showering down onto your shoulders and chest with a stinking, sour, intensely skunky odor. You gasp and try to turn away, but the pungent reek has already coated your body and is burning your mouth and throat as you accidentally inhale! Despite the horrible stench and strange, tingling sensation wherever the spray lands, though, it's not as foul as some of his other odors, and you compose yourself quickly as he lowers his tail and stands up straight again.

"I hope you had a good time," Stizz says sweetly as he begins dressing himself, completely oblivious to your dazed, musk-drenched state of nausea and ecstasy. He pulls his shoes over his sweaty clawed feet and smirks at you. "The door is there. I trust you can find your way back out? As I said, I have business to attend to, so, go on, now." He gently glides to your side and begins to escort you to the door, draping your shirt over your shoulder so you don't forget to take it with you. Your nostrils flare as you attempt to take another big whiff of his body odor, but he intercepts your starving nose with a finger and pushes it away. "Ah ah," he scolds you. "Next time." He stands beside you as he shuts and locks the apartment door behind you, but you are still drowsy and dizzy and reeking of stink lizard musk, and you feel like you've forgotten how to walk. He gives you a piteous look, then lifts his arm and swiftly shoves his yellow-stained armpit into your face one last time. "Alright, one more," he says sweetly. You breathe in his sour, stinky musk as deeply as you can; so deeply, in fact, that you immediately feel light headed and collapse onto your knees. He lowers his arm and swats you with his skunky tail as he floats past you. "Show yourself out. I'll see you later."