King Tyler – Satanic Deity

Posted:August 17, 2025 Time:7:45 am

BDSM, Bullying, Consensual, Destruction, Extreme/Gore, Humiliation, Male Focused, Mega, Microscopic, Non-Consensual, Piss, Raunch, Sadistic, Scat, Sex Toy, Shrinking, Slavery, Stories, Supernatural & Magic, Torture & Abuse, Violence, Vore (anal)

About this story (AI-written Overview):

Introducing King Tyler-

In a grotesque afterlife realm, tiny Ethan becomes the submissive plaything of King Tyler, a colossal, foul-smelling satanic teenager who wields his immense size and noxious bodily functions as instruments of torment and twisted desire. Ethan's fascination with Tyler’s overpowering presence and repulsive acts blends humiliation with arousal, highlighting a unique dynamic of size disparity and dark fetishism. The story’s vivid scale shifts—from Ethan’s microscopic vulnerability to Tyler’s godlike enormity—underscore the surreal, nightmarish interplay of power, degradation, and obsession.

The floor trembled as a great groan echoed through the thorax of the beast; rising from its gut, into its esophagus before exploding through the path of least resistance…

“UUUUUuuuuuuurrrrrpp”

Ethan shook his head, a bit disgusted on a conscious level, though deep in his heart his body and psyche betrayed him, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine while he stared on at the intensity of the massive form in front of him.

Their eyes never met as the beast stared intently past Ethan, towards the glowing box which lay beyond. And without a single word, the beast’s muscular appendage slid forward. Each individual digit grasped a soft mountain of covert flesh; a single one powerful enough to embarrass Ethan’s entire muscular body, as it scratched and manipulated the sensitive mound which lurked below the barrier. A spicy wave of perfume; a wall of masculine sex and pheromones refreshed the already thoroughly infused air, penetrating deep into Ethan’s lungs. A weaker man would have coughed and gagged, or even asphyxiated from the miasma of musk, but instead it only tickled Ethan’s nose, triggering another lustful response from deep within him. The digits poked and prodded deeply into the soft mound, scratching, while the beast’s other hand stayed busy on the game controller.

Slowly, as the beast returned his hand to the controller with its mate, another rumble could be felt by Ethan. This rumble was something deeper, something *powerful*.

Tyler’s stomach let out a burbling moan: heralding the imminent arrival of a gas giant the likes of which humanity would otherwise never experience until the inevitable explosion of the sun, millions of years away. With a quick grin, he glanced away from his game, and locked his eyes with Ethan.

An echoing firecracker sound rattled against the soft fabric of the couch cushions. Rapid, machine gun-like pops filled the air if only for a brief second. Mere inches away, Ethan stumbled and lost his balance, falling onto his back onto the cushion. Then, the wave of fetid, hot, air pummeled him, assaulting his senses.

“Mmmmm. Smells good doesn’t it, little one? Smells like your lunch is about ready! Hahaha”

The vile beast laughed, sniffing the air, while Ethan tried to regain his footing to stand. It was pathetic: being utterly dominated by something as inconsequential as a fart is downright embarrassing. But Ethan remembered that no matter what, he had it easy: because trapped directly in the line of fire, others his size had surely been vaporized by the impact of the gas spewing literally from the firey depths of Satan’s Anus. After all, that’s where this was, and that’s who Tyler was.

Hell was not what any bible would tell you, and it certainly not what Ethan had ever imagined. What’s more, calling Tyler a “beast” wasn’t quite accurate. Tyler was a fair haired young man, with ice blue eyes, a slim build, pale skin, and a deceptive demeanor. He appeared as a boy of 18 years old, though his true age was anyone’s guess. That’s because beneath this unassuming, gentle, and almost angelic fasçade beat a heart of black and a soul of pure evil. King Tyler was the ruler of his dominion; a dominion that contained the afterlife of the downtrodden, the evil, the dregs of society. Everyone was equal in this place. It mattered not what your crime was to land here, and King Tyler himself often didn’t know either or didn’t care. He had one job: to endlessly harass, torture, bully, maim, kill anyone unfortunate enough to become in his presence. The boss dropped him here, and Tyler was left to his own devices.

King Tyler took particular joy in using his body to punish, provoke, or even entice those sent to him. There was no other way to put it: he was an absolutely disgusting pervert. The last time Tyler had washed himself was when he was still a mortal, untold eons ago. He used his deific, satanic powers to supercharge his scent even further, as well as produce endless supplies of all bodily fluids and excrements. And of course, those powers didn’t stop there. This was all a game to him: a disgusting competition with himself to see what he could come up with each time; to see how much fun he could have. God Jeffrey had chosen him for his position in the afterlife because of his particular set of proclivities, and King Tyler did his best not to let the boss down.

Ethan was a bit different though. From the first moment he seeme to almost… *enjoy* King Tyler’s attempts at torture. Ethan got excited by Tyler’s powerful farts, hurricane force burps, Typhoon like waterfalls of piss. Tyler almost took a liking to Ethan because of this: he was his personal pet.

Ethan looked on, eyes watering, from his position on his back as the leviathan gave himself another healthy scratch. It was such a juxtaposition: how could someone with such a gentle, sweet, innocent appearance he so gross and rude. But it was that which made Ethan’s heart flutter. Truthfully for him, this supposed ‘Hell’ had been more of a ‘Heaven’, as his deepest fantasies were also Tyler’s method of torture. The glorious scent of unwashed teenage ball funk mixed with the noxious fumes of the deity’s gas, making Ethan drool even though he knew he shouldn’t.

Another healthy groan rumbled the cushions, but this time no gas. The cocophony clearly made Tyler writhe a bit in his seat: the pressure was on. He punched away furiously at the buttons of the game controller, fighting his insides just as he was fighting the demons in the game.

“FUCK!”

The satanic deity yelled out in a voice so loud it hurt Ethan’s ears. It was pretty clear the titan had lost the round.

“Fuck fuck fuckity fuckin hell god damn it!”

In a quieter but slightly urgent voice, Tyler let out a string of expletives. And without warning, the shadow of his mighty hand consumed Ethan, and in slow motion, the grabby, cheesy, ball-scented digits of the beast were wrapped around the 1 inch tall mortal.

“Fuckin stomach made me lose the game. Come along lil fuck, it’s time!”

Ethan shuddered a bit, he knew what time it was. And it wasn’t the first time for this ‘time’, but even with his own sick ideas this event made him nervous. Sure it was exciting, but it was intense. And Ethan knew with all of his heart that it was torture, it was something he shouldn’t enjoy, but even the thought of it would get him excited.

Holding Ethan in his hand, King Tyler scooted himself off the sofa and his soft, sweaty soles slapped against the floor. A few of the Damned who had been sentenced to worship and attempt to pedicure the cheesy, stinky toes of the teenage brute had immediately been forgotten, splattering in a second under and between Tyler’s toes from the impact on the hardwood floor. Tyler didn’t speak a word, just grinned from the feeling of tiny bodies exploding under his skin yet again: it was a feeling that *never* got old. He carried Ethan across the room, casually kicking debris that included human remains as well as discarded socks and food wrappers out of the way with every step. Through another door into the ‘bathroom’ they went.

The ‘bathroom’, as the mighty King of Hell deemed it, contained no bath, shower, toilet, or sink. A concrete dungeon of unabashed, shameless horror. A literal torture chamber. It was a place where Tyler would let his dreams run free. It was a game room, more than anything else.

*EURGHHH*

King Tyler’s stomach groaned once again; the pressure was building and reaching a breaking point. To Ethan, it sounded like a whale’s mating call from deep inside the Man Mountain that was his captor.

“Gotta make this fast, good thing I already know what I want.”

And with that simple line, Ethan was tossed from Tyler’s hand, tumbling to the hard concrete floor with a SMACK. After a moment, sore and bruised but otherwise unarmed, Ethan opened his eyes…

He was surrounded by people. The smell of hotdogs and beer was in the air, and in the distance, a field of green. It was a football game! He was in a stadium! This concrete torture chamber ‘bathroom’ also had the benefit of being a blank slate for Tyler to morph reality into for whatever sick game was on his mind. The Good Lord Jeffrey had also granted him certain reality bending powers that allowed for some good game play. He got a kick out of seeing Tyler’s little games, and he knew he would make good use of this power.

…rumble…

The ground shook gently, so softly that almost no one noticed it over the sound and commotion in the crowds. But Ethan knew it instantly. He’s played a version of this game before, and knew what was about to happen. Immediately he did his best to run to higher ground in the stand, pushing past people carrying trays of food and drinks to their seats.

***rumble***

The next quake was more intense, and the more observant and less intoxicated could sense the ripples in their beverages.

***rumble***

It seemed to be getting cloudy now, the bright sun that had once shown through the open roof began to disappear, and darkness and shadow began to emerge.

Ethan pushed past more people, headed for the box seats, and aiming, ironically, for the rest rooms. They were the only part of this upper floor made of concrete and steel. The floor rumbled again, this time more intense as people walking began to lose their balance and fall to the ground. Another rumble, and the building was now consumed with shadow.

Screams echoed throughout the structure as an acrid haze of man scent contaminated the atmosphere.

“AWW MAN, GLAD THIS TOILET IS OPEN! I DIDNT THINK I COULD HOLD IT MUCH LONGER!”

The boyish voice reverberated through the structure now, trouncing even the most shrill of screams. Ethan watched as people began to run for the exits, but they were locked. The staircases were sealed. Panic overtook.

Enormous bare feet pounded the ground yet again as one landed on either side of the tiny sporting structure, the titan taking his position of authority above all and crossing his arms while glancing down

“Holy. FUCK.”

Ethan finally spoke aloud. He was no longer an inch tall to the giant. He wasn’t even a centimeter tall! He figured he must be nearly microscopic to the collosal King Tyler. The shadows shifted as the giant removed his sweat soaked athletic shorts, and tossed them aside, along with his t shirt.

There, standing in all his naked glory, thousands trapped in the bullseye between his legs, was Satan King Tyler.

“Ughhh this is gonna be intense…”

Tyler groaned out softly as he began to squat. With each modicrum of his movement, the smell, humidity and haze got more intense. Unwashed man ass, balls and feet consumed all available oxygen and permeated the air with acrid, acidic stink. Eyes watered, throats burned, sinuses scorched; nothing could have prepared them for the noxious chemical warfare being committed by the young man’s body odors. And with each whiff, Ethan craved his King even more.

Tyler’s enormous yet soft member bounced freely with his movements, swaying threateningly hundreds of feet above. What was once a sizeable 8 inch cock, was now a girthy, gargantuan, uncut shrine to sex and power that emitted its own odorous perfume from it’s unwashed masculine crevices.

As the giant came to rest in his fully squatted position, the onlookers below stared in awe from the slow motion black hole that formed before them. Tyler’s hole was easily large enough to swallow most of the stadium in one shot, but now it positioned itself poised, ready for emission. The fat, heavy, and voluptuous cheeks of the satanic deity jiggled gently with each minute motion he made.

“Uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh fuuuuuuuuuuuckk”

Tyler moaned under his breath, but at his size it could wake the dead, reverberating it’s low note sound through the walls of every inch of the imminently doomed stadium. Ethan buried himself sheltered inside a luxury suite, surrounded by poured concrete walls, when suddenly the seemingly celestial wormhole that took residence high above seemed to twitch just slightly.

For a moment, all the world was silent.

*FBBBBBBBBBTTTTT*

A galactic force hot wind exploded from the wrinkled orifice, carrying with it the explosive sound of a masculine young brute relieving pressure after a night of bad food and sex. Dozens of the panicked littles began to be blown backwards, crashing into stands and splattering into walls. For those closest to the epicenter, the mighty fart cooked and crisped their skin from the insurmountable heat of the convection oven like gas cloud. Streaks of brown dust and drops of liquid rained down in a faint mist, likely too minute for Tyler to even notice, but at this scale the dried bits and drops of still liquid shit splattered against the ground and coated the unwashed masses with a layer of burning hot human excrement.

Inside the luxury box the earth quaking fart knocked glasses and bottles to the floor, shattering from the impact while ceiling tiles rained down around Ethan. The vast windows that once provided an exclusive view of the performance at center field quickly became splattered with the same wretched filth that coated dozens of others below. The inhuman miasma of costic boysmell that radiated from the cosmically, comically large young man constantly now became intertwined with the most vomit inducing egg salad and beer fart scented poison cloud imaginable. Even within the sealed, relative safety of the luxury box, Ethan’s nose wrinkled and he gagged involuntarily, yet deep inside his cock twitched from the excitement.

“Awwww fuuuck. That was a baaad one damn it… Eurgh. Oh no… It’s coming…”

The boyish beast bellowed below baited breath, signaling that this was merely the appetizer, and the evening’s main event was just setting to begin.

The unfortunate survivors of the first onslaught looked on in horror, as in slow motion the sweaty, wrinkled pucker, the Portal of Death, began to flare and spread once more- much, much wider than before. A deep gurgle resounded from inside the belly of the beast, and an anguished, labored moan from the proprietor echoed throughout while he began to push. Suddenly, a shock of lightning hot amber began to cascade from beyond view. A literal waterfall of reeking, rotten yellow piss began to flow from DongZilla high above. The cascade of urine overshot the edge of the stadium, but as the boy reigned in the pressure on his bowels more, the jet subsided and trickled down from his supple, bulbous sack to the devestated throngs of sports fans below. The acidic liquid burned eyes and singed the skin of the hapless runts, even beginning to dissolve the outer layer. Blood curdling screams could be heard amongst the commotion as dozens more lives were snuffed out in the excruciatingly painful bath.

With another labored moan that shook the very earth beneath the doomed structure, the titan’s rectum twitched, and the fate of thousands emerged. The screams became louder, the clawing and begging at the exit doors became more hopeless, the cries for help became more pathetic. Slowly, the girthy monster swelled from the gargantuan anus creeping closer and closer with each passing second.

“UUUUUHHHFFFF GOD THIS IS A BIG ONE!” Tyler exclaimed with yet another groan.

There was no escape.

The size of the log alone exceeded the entire stadium ten fold.

Nothing was safe from its shadow.

Tyler’s enormous shit slammed into the stadium with a sickening, crunchy SQUISH, splattering hundreds instantly on impact in the dense mush. The log finally broke completely free from His anus, and tumbled over in a soft cascade that broke apart, suffocating all light that still remained from the sky. Ethan’s vision changed to that of pure brown upon impact. Amazingly the luxury box was spared from annihilation, but Ethan could feel the giant pillar of godly scat crumble and fall around him, and over top of the building. But the ground continued to shake, as King Tyler’s hole trembled once more, releasing another log of nearly equal length and girth adding to the pile and turning all that remained of the tiny stadium into an unrecognizable pile of the mighty deity’s effluent.

But the hole trembled once more. And a mighty roar echoed out from Satan’s lips.

A biblical deluge of boiling lava-hot molten shit burst from the gargantuan orifice, raining down the true depths of hell over the already existing smothered stadium. More and more of the King’s liquid turds flowed from his mighty bowels and piled up higher and higher. Ethan began to suffocate from the lack of oxygen while the ceiling groaned above him, threatening to fall under the enormous weight of the still growing pile of feces. The creaks turned to cracks and shatters, and involuntarily Ethan’s cock exploded, propelling every ounce of mortal cum his balls could bear all over himself while he watched the ceiling structure crumble, unleasing the biblical horror that had piled on top of it. Soft brown shit covered Ethan in its dense texture, forcing its way into his mouth, ears and nose. Ethan died living out his dream, choking on his master’s glorious dump, loving every moment as the life was snuffed from his body.

Finally uttering a sigh of relief, the King rose from his squatted position and spun on his heels, turning to admire his handiwork.

The pile he left was impressive, even for him.

In all, 29,745 doomed souls parished in a matter of minutes. Including Ethan: The King’s ‘special little guy’. All buried beneath a little mountain of his own personal waste. The Royal Dick throbbed thinking of what hell it was like on ground zero.

“Ahhh damn it I forgot to save something to wipe with…”

Tyler thought for a moment and grinned, before lifting his right hand to chest level and holding his palm out. He stared at his hand, and before a moment, a golden glow began to form.

>>>>>>>

Ethan woke up with a start. Had this all been some wild dream? His bedsheets were soaked with sweat and untold loads of his cum. As he threw the covers off of him and looked up, his visage changed. He wasn’t back in his old life. He wasn’t back in his old room at all.

He appeared to be on a rooftop, engulfed in a shadow.

“Wait a minute… That can’t be…”

Miles, and miles above, the source of the shadow was by now a familiar sight, and rapidly approaching.

“Holy fuck, my King, this is incredible!”

Ethan shouted and to which a hollow sound echoed through him and all existence in response.

Rapidly approaching touchdown was a dark valley, surrounded by two great, beige mountains. As it got closer, the valley grew wider. The hungry black hole that was King Tyler’s Mighty Anus was incoming! Soon the globs of still wet shit surrounded by dried flakes of excrement from God-knows-when consumed the horizon. Ethan had a front row seat to the cleanup. With a sonic boom-like impact, Tyler dug the toilet paper sitty deep into his shit encrusted hole. The muscular walls of his anus and sweaty cheeks steamrolled over the outer walls of the city, crumbling to nothing. While downtown, the buildings remained standing only briefly while the King used his hand to wipe along the length of his crack. Mountains of shit were scraped from the walls and hole, the buildings acting as a perfect scraping substrate to clean his royal hole.

Tyler pushed the city deep into his anus, the heat, sweat, stench and feces dissolved entire buildings, vaporizing millions of residents including once again ending the life of his faithful Ethan. Blocks upon blocks of Man’s Creation exploded into dust as they collided into this young man’s stinky butthole. Tyler giggled as he felt everything in his hand fall apart to nothing.

Once again, Ethan’s eyes opened. He stood staring up at the bright red athletic shorts of his Satanic Teenage Master, a healthy, soft bulge growing.

King Tyler held his controller in his hand, his gaming headset around his neck. Slowly his muscular fingers pushed open the elastic waistband, sliding down inside and grasping his manliness tight.

“You disappointed me Ethan” the King spoke. Ethan shivered a bit… He relished in his king’s nastiness! What could he have possibly done wrong?

“I give you a literal buffet of my body, and you barely swallow a bite! How can my little worshipper survive if he doesn’t eat?”

Ethan could say nothing in response, his own stomach grumbled from hunger. He noticed as his King casually stroked the semi soft godhood beneath the fabric barrier.

“Don’t worry, little one. I’ll have something else for you. But this time you’re gonna eat every. last. crumb. Got it?”

King Tyler smirked as he drew his hand back out of his shorts and redirected it towards Ethan. Soon darkness consumed him once again, and the familiar smell of unwashed boy stank was heavy in his lungs while the muscular digits wrapped around him.

“I’m gonna break you, bug…”