Ademetos presents

Sally's Downfall, Part 7 - A Year Later

A Sally's Downfall series story
Extreme, F+, f, M+, Real Life, Humiliation, Rape, Sadism, Scat, Water Sports, Non-Consensual
It is over a year since Sally, the highly successful CFO of a company with very dubious connections and revenue sources, was caught embezzling. Unlike others in the same situation, they spared her a hideous death by torture. But the price to pay was complete dehumanization, giving up all rights and dignity for a miserable life of permanent and total degradation, humiliation and punishment - all the while continuing to do an excellent job as CFO.


Since we last saw her, Fuck Toy's daily life has changed very little. During the day, she still runs the corporate empire's finances with her habitual extraordinary skill. Outside work, she has no life of her own at all. During the day she can be fucked and abused by anyone, any time. Anyone can walk into her office for a quick blow job, or to make her suck used tampons or eat used toilet paper or lick their shoes clean - and they do, constantly. There are no limits to the humiliation that can be imposed on her. Her "home" is a tiny concrete cell in the basement of another office block, where every second of her time is monitored and controlled. She has eaten nothing but slops, swill and shit since her downfall. Her nights are spent in pointless chores and uncomfortable bondage. She hasn't seen soap or been allowed to wash herself for the whole time, though sometimes during her weekend torture sessions they hose her down with freezing water until her skin turns blue.

Her appearance has become even more outlandish. Her monster tits have been inflated to nearly three litres, enormous obscene globes that distort her whole appearance and posture. Her bee-sting lips are even fatter, her septum ring so thick that it completely fills her distended nostrils, which are now pierced at the sides and held wide open by hollow rings. Her doubly-studded tongue has been split, like a snake's. She has more tattoos, in addition to the one on her belly that says "Fuck Toy" in large block letters. A delicate filigree tattoo runs from her forehead past her eye and down one cheek to her neck. If you look carefully, you can make out the name "fuck toy" spelled amongst the curlicues.

She doesn't look like a human being any more. Yet more silicone fills her naturally-slender bottom, making it protrude obscenely as she struts around. Her heels are more impossible than ever. After two years of training she can move easily in heels that most would not be able to take a single step in.

Her face is often covered by an expensive latex hood. You have to look closely to see that it isn't real. It gives her a doll-like appearance that completely conceals her facial expressions and her emotions, dehumanizing her even more. Only her mouth, its decorations and her giant septum ring are visible.

Every day she comes in to her high-powered executive job dressed like a street whore, her giant tit globes with their huge nipple rings projected far in front of her. A typical outfit is a tiny skirt, revealing the heavy rings in her pussy, and a top stretched ready to rip across her tits. She sits at her vast executive desk, a huge dildo thrust deep inside her, as she negotiates complex deals with banks across the world.

When she is not at work she is an escort for the company's visitors or, more and more often, just a cheap whore, advertising on adult websites. She fucks and gives blowjobs to random men on business trips in hotel rooms, who mostly don't even notice how strange she is once they have come inside her. "Hey, nice tits, babe" is about the most they notice. She specialises in the unusual - threesomes, gang bangs, amateur sadists who want to spank her, fist her, or piss on her. Other humiliations often keep her busy: working in a glory hole, sucking or being fucked by anonymous cocks, doing menial jobs as an anonymous and sexually available minion, working in a nightclub.

Morning Chores

Every morning when Fuck Toy arrives at the office, her first job is to clean the toilets on the executive floor of the office building. It doesn't matter how much work is waiting for her, what crises are unravelling in the organization. Once she has tottered the mile or so from what passed for home, wearing a street whore outfit and often chilled to the bone and soaked, she goes straight to the toilet and starts work. It's not necessary - there are cleaners who take care of everything else. It's just another way to remind her constantly of her debasement and degradation, to keep her in constant humiliation and shame as well as discomfort and pain.

Today she is wearing a tiny dress that barely exists. Mostly it looks like bits of fine black string stretched across her flesh and across her monster tits. Wider strips of the same stretchy material cover her nipples, just, and her cunt, though the flesh of her obscene breasts is on open display, and her rings are clearly visible under the hem of the dress. Her feet and legs ache from the struggle to work in her six-inch heels, today a pair of fine black strappy stillettos, almost impossible to balance in. Juices and streaks of blood ooze down her inner thighs from the punishment dildo she has worn for the walk to work. An inflatable plug stretches her anus and bowels, causing continuous cramping. Her belly is filled with shit taken from the thoroughly mixed stinking foulness of her shit bucket, some of it weeks old. She also wears a pair of black hold-up stockings, snagged and laddered, completing her street whore slut appearance. It isn't visible, but they have been soaked in a mixture of piss and shit and left to dry. They feel disgusting and smell much worse.

The Men's Toilet

Normal cleaners use a mop for the floor, standing and walking around the floor. That luxury is denied to her. As soon as she enters the men's toilet she drops to her knees and crawls to the tiny closet, from which she takes a bucket and a small sponge. She pushes the bucket across the floor, crawling awkwardly, to a tap in the wall from which she fills it with cold water. What a pleasure and relief it would be to quench her thirst with a few mouthfuls, to clean her befouled mouth, but she dares not and tries not to even think of it. She starts her work, mopping the floor with the tiny sponge, held awkwardly as she crawls with one hand.

As she approaches the urinals she leaves the sponge behind. For everything that is truly filthy, she is permitted to use only her tongue and mouth. She licks the floor, her tongue scraping at the patches of yellow dried piss until the tiles are shiny and smooth. Then she raises her head to the urinal itself, carefully licking all around the rim and then inside, until all stains and the little puddle of dilute piss around the drain have gone.

Once the urinals are clean, it's time to turn her attention to the cubicles. She uses her tongue on the floor, then on the seat, and finally on the toilet itself, removing the inevitable yellow stains. She pushes her head into the bowl, carefully scraping the traces of dried-up shit with her tongue, lips and sometimes teeth. Only for the ones that are impossible to reach with her mouth is she allowed to use her fingers, but even then she has to lick them clean. There always are traces, and worse, because - unlike every other toilet in the building - there are no brushes in these, making job as unpleasant as possible. Today one of them has a huge mess of the stuff where someone's runny shit proved too tough for the flush, and splashes of dried diarrhoea all over the place too. She concentrates hard on what she has to do, trying desperately not to think of the reality of what she is doing to herself. Even so, as she scrapes away at the dried filth with her teeth and tongue, swallowing scraps of crunchy shit, she has to try very hard not to retch or puke, or to burst into tears at the miserable life she is forced to lead as punishment for her errors.

She has nearly finished the men's toilet when the door opens. She stands, perched on her ridiculous heels and bent double at the waist so that both her cunt and her mouth are accessible, as she has been instructed - the only time she is permitted to rise from her knees. The man ignores the temptation of her cunt, stands in front of her, opens his flies and pisses into her face and her open mouth. She swallows as much as she can, the rest splashing into a puddle under her. When his flow dries up he thrusts his cock into her mouth. She sucks him expertly, getting him hard then edging him until he is ready to explode. He pulls out of her and with a stroke of his hand, spurting cum all over her piss-soaked face. She is not allowed to wash, so the sticky mess congeals and dries into an itchy covering that reminds her all day, even as she negotiates complex multinational banking deals, of her less-than-human status. As a final humiliation, she falls flat on her belly and licks up the puddle of piss before kissing her abuser's shoes and thanking him graciously.

He leaves and she finishes the last few things in the men's toilet, standing to lick the washbasins and the surrounding counter clean.

The Ladies' Room

She teeters to the adjacent ladies' room, which ought to be cleaner than the men's - it's just about impossible for a woman to miss when she is pissing. But here everyone knows about her morning chore, and there are women who delight in humiliating and tormenting her even when they can't watch its effect.

As she enters she sees a used tampon on the floor under the washbasins. She drops to her knees and takes it into her mouth, trying not to retch as she sucks the partly-dried period blood from it. In one of the stalls an early visitor has left her a present, the toilet left unflushed, a turd floating in the dirty yellow water. She puts it straight into her mouth, chewing on it, experiencing the little pieces of undigested food and its strong, bitter taste. This time she does retch as she swallows, but manages not to puke, swallowing the foul bile that has risen from her belly.

There is no paper in the bowl. In this toilet, each stall has two bins: one for used tampons, and a normal wastepaper bin with a lid and a pedal to open it. That is where the paper is to be found. Some users just flush it away but others leave it there as a further humiliation. They are encouraged to do so by the legend printed in pink on the paper, which says "A Special Gift for Fuck Toy". She opens the bin and takes the paper out, sheet by sheet, examining each one. The filthiest ones, the ones from a first wipe covered in a thick layer of congealed shit, she lays on the floor and licks as clean as she can, gagging as she tries to swallow the thick, stinking half-rotten mess. The less soiled pieces she puts in a plastic bag. She opens the tampon bin and transfers its contents to the bag, too, half a dozen used tampons including a couple that are completely soaked in rich red period blood, now dried to dark red. Other people munch cookies or nuts during their working day. Fuck Toy will suck each tampon, each piece of toilet paper, constantly reminded of her humiliation.

##A Taciturn Visitor She hears the door open. In here there is no point in preparing to be fucked. Instead she prostates herself, head facing the door, flat on her belly and her huge tits, her wrists and ankles held behind her back as though she is hogtied, ready to worship the feet of whoever arrives. But the visitor walks straight past her without a word. She is not allowed to move until given permission, so she waits. The visitor sits down, without closing the door, and pisses noisily. Strangely, it adds to Fuck Toy's humiliation and distress that she can't even be bothered to make her drink her piss. As she leaves, she kicks Fuck Toy hard in one of her swollen, compressed tits, and says,

"You disgust me, you filthy slut."

For good measure she spits at her, a glob of saliva landing on the back of her neck. If only she knew how much she hated what she has become, maybe she would have some sympathy. Or maybe she is simply the kind of person who is incapable of sympathy.


Fuck toy returns to work, licking dried shit from the toilet bowl, slurping congealed shit from the used toilet paper, harvesting used tampons for her debasement later in the day. The door opens again, and one more time she prostates herself before the visitor whose feet come to a stop under her face.

"Worship these feet, you worthless piece of shit," commands the visitor's voice. She applies her mouth to them, kissing and licking at the worn black leather, gritty with street dirt under her tongue. Without looking up she knows that her visitor is Lydia, a curvily substantial black woman in her thirties. Infinitely long ago, when there was still Sally, they had been friends, occasional lovers. They would go to lunch together, sometimes for drinks after work or to see a movie or go shopping, a few weekend breaks together. After Sally's downfall, Lydia had avoided her for a long time, not knowing how to deal with the dehumanised Fuck Toy. Gradually though she got used to the idea of tormenting and abusing her former friend. Now she was one of her worst abusers, constantly looking for inventive ways to make her life more unpleasant, to degrade and diminish her already miserable life still further.

"Glad I found you, you stinking cunt, I need a big shit, didn't have time before I left home this morning."

She reaches down and clips her wrists together behind her back, using the thick metal cuffs that can never be removed and their built-in clip that is always available so she can instantly be deprived of the use of her hands, pushing her closer to being just an animal.

She walks into a stall, but instead of sitting on the toilet she squats on the floor, lifts her clinging back dress to her waist, pushes her thong to one side. Fuck Toy squirms across the floor, her tits hurting as she scrapes them back and forth on the hard, cold tile, until her face is positioned just behind Lydia's bottom. Lydia lets out a long runny fart, the result dripping to the floor. Fuck Toy pushes forward, trying desperately to ignore the stink, and licks up the tiny sticky puddle. Then her bowels explode, in an instant there is a huge pile of half-runny shit, its stink a hundred times worse than the fart. She moves forward to lick Lydia clean. Just as her tongue gets to work there is another long fart, and her mouth is completely filled with near-liquid shit. Even ignoring her disgust, the quantity makes it hard to swallow. She struggles, retches and gags, and eventually gets it into her belly. She is very close to bursting into tears in her shame and humiliation, but she dare not. Lydia turns around and laughes at her.

"Useless cunt, not even good enough to be a toilet and swallow shit, are you? Stay there 'cos I haven't finished, wouldn't want you to miss a treat like this."

Even closer to tears, Fuck Toy opens her mouth wide under Lydia's anus as it stretches, distends, closes again, lets out another couple of farts straight into her mouth, and finally ejects a solid little turd, then another. She chews, swallowing as quickly as she can in case there is more. Lydia tells her she has finished, and needs cleaning. Her tongue goes to work, probing deep inside her anus, lapping at the foul brown slime that coats her skin, licking between her cheeks, until everything is spotless.

Lydia turns around, sitting on the toilet now that she no longer has a use for it. Fuck Toy bends down to start eating what she has produced but her head is yanked up so she is kneeling. She bends forward to reach Lydia's pussy, knowing what is expected. But Lydia pushes her head back abruptly, saying, "Oversexed cunt, can't keep away from it, can you? You need to learn to control yourself."

It is so unfair. She's doing it because of her instructions. She could be beaten or worse if she didn't offer. She enjoys licking pussy, who doesn't, but it's not her choice. But she doesn't have time to think any of this, because Lydia slaps her cheek, hard, back and forth, her head jerking each time, a dozen times. A ring cuts into her cheek leaving a dribble of blood. Even for someone who is well used to being beaten, hit and abused, it comes as a shock.

While she is still in shock, Lydia clips a chain to one of her nipple rings, passes it through her septum ring, then tugs on her other nipple and clips the other end to it. Now her huge and heavy tits are pulled up by her nose, making everything painful. She hardly has time to realise it before Lydia attaches vicious metal electrical clips to each nipple as well. Involuntarily she screams, turning to sobs and gasps as the burning agony continues. She can't help herself and she gasps, "Please, no, not this, not now..."

Lydia answers her plea by tugging and twisting at the clips, then slapping her face again.

"Shut up, you useless turd. Unless you want these clips on your clit or inside your worthless slut cunt."

She presses her boots into the pile of shit at her feet. Leaving Fuck Toy still quietly sobbing in pain, she walks around the toilet leaving boot-shaped prints of shit in a circle, before sitting down again. She thrusts one boot into her face, shit clinging to its sides, wiping it down her nose leaving a brown mark that will stay there all day.

"Put your shit slurping tongue to work, cunt, and lick this disgusting filth off my boot."

She reaches forward and twists the vicious clips. A drop of blood oozes out as Fuck Toy squeals in pain again. Her tongue goes straight to work, licking first at the leather soles and then working round the edges. She licks for a long time, until not even a trace of filth remains, even in the seams and crevices.

"Enough of that, you greedy shit pile. Now get down on those ridiculous slut tits and clean up the floor."

It is agony to squirm along on her huge tits, the clamps tearing at her delicate flesh with every agonising movement. If she tries to look up and see where she is going, the chain tears painfully at her nose. She shuffles along awkwardly, her arms still pinioned behind her, twisting her thighs and shoulders to advance a few agonising inches at a time. By the time she reaches the first shit stain, it has already started to dry out. She licks at it, slowly producing enough saliva to soften it, scraping the flakes and congealed lumps into her mouth. She wants to weep with shame and to cry out in pain, but she dare not. Slowly, painfully, she licks up each bootprint, squirms her way to the next, repeats over and over until finally she has worked her way back to where Lydia still sits waiting for her. Her huge tits are bruised, blood oozing copiously from her nipples where the vicious clips have torn them again and again. She presents herself on her knees again.

"Took your time, didn't you, lazy cunt? Now maybe you'll deign to give me some pleasure."

As Fuck Toy goes to work with her tongue, her mouth still filled with the revolting taste of dried shit, Lydia tgs and twists at her tortured nipples. Usually she licks carefully to postpone orgasm for as long as possible, but now she is desperate for the pain and punishment to stop. She uses her expertise to bring Lydia very quickly to a climax.

"In a hurry are we, my sweet stinking puddle of vomit?" says Lydia, when she has recovered from a powerful orgasm. "And speaking of puddles of vomit..."

She shoves her hand brutally into Fuck Toy's mouth. Even all that infinite time ago when she was still Sally, she was very practised at deep-throating. But Lydia knows exactly how to make her puke anyway. She tries to plead, anything but that, please, no... but that just gets her another slap. She retches, retches again, then disgusting, stinking creamy-brown shit puke floods out of her mouth, landing on top of the pile of shit at her knees. The hand stays in her mouth until she has puked and puked and despite the painful cramps in her belly, there is simply nothing more to come up.

Lydia stands up and leaves, pausing only to wash the stinking filth from her hand. There is no need to give further orders.

"Thank you. Thank you for torturing my worthless slut tits. Thank you for your generous gift of shit, and for making my useless belly puke," she says graciously, sounding sincere even though this is just another unbearable humiliation.

Finishing the Job

She knows what she has to do now. She weeps as she sets to the task of ingesting for a second time all the vile filth she has already managed to swallow once this morning - her "breakfast" of stale shit and food slops, the slime she has licked from the used toilet paper, and all the rest - and then the substantial pile of Lydia's shit that remains. She eats it all as quickly as she can, but not too quickly - it would be only to easy to puke it all up yet again and have to start over. Still it takes a long time. Her nipples are sending jolts of agony through her whole body, her nose is contantly tormented by the short chain. It obstructs her mouth, forcing her lips and tongue to work around it for every mouthful.

Still her work isn't finished. There is still one stall to clean. With her hands bound behind her it is much harder. She has to shuffle around painfully on her knees to get her hands to where they need to be. Emptying the tampon and toilet paper bins is a real challenge. The only way she can clean the floor is to hold the filthy sponge in her mouth, scrubbing away with her head. It is painful, slow and bitterly humiliating. Before she has finished she has one more visitor.

"You poor thing, that must all hurt terribly," she says. Then she grabs the two clips and twists and tugs at them until it seems like her nipples must tear away from her body, making her squeal and sob in pain, before squatting down and releasing a flood of strong overnight piss that Fuck Toy has to lick up, once again bearing her weight on her obscenely huge tits and her tortured nipples.

Finally she finishes. It has taken her much longer than usual, thanks to Lydia's ministrations and her bound wrists, and the result is not perfect - there are visible smears on the floor, for which she will be punished later. She staggers awkwardly to her feet in her ridiculous heels, struggling to balance with her bound hands, and totters to her office where her professional morning workload is waiting for her. She sits at her desk on the punishment chair, the huge spiked dildo opening her up and tearing once again at her poor tormented cunt. Her personal assistant follows her in. If anyone should show respect and deference, it would be her.

The Working Day

"Morning, Fuck Toy," says her assistant, as she puts another pile of documents on her desk. Then she empties a plastic tub, next to them. There are half a dozen used condoms, full of sticky, congealed cum. "Someone left these for you to suck, I'm sure you'll enjoy them, you filthy slut. I like your nipples, they suit you." She too tugs at the awful, painful clips, now covered in congealed blood that has oozed out of the damaged flesh.

As poor Fuck Toy starts to empty the condoms using only her mouth and tongue, forcing the sloppy mess out of the rubber, her assistant unclips her wrists. Anyone can torment her, abuse her, humiliate her, rape her, the more the better, but she must not be physically prevented from working. She has to be able to type, to use her computer, to make complicated phone calls all over the world. Within minutes she is at work, trying to ignore the terrible pain from her nipples, the torment of the plug in her cunt, the foulness that distends her belly. People come to see her to discuss complex financial transactions, ignoring the smears of shit and the dried cum on her face. Slowly she empties the bag of used tampons and shit-smeared toilet paper that she has retrieved from the toilet, sucking each one until the blood and shit that fills them has been removed and fits in her belly.

A while later Lydia presents herself in her office. She has already been fucked twice, cum oozing down her thighs mingled with blood from her tortured cunt. Her mouth is filled with the sticky remnants of the blowjobs she has given, her face still covered in dried cum. After insulting her in the most debasing way, calling her a worthless shit eater, a pathetic bimbo, Lydia pushes behind the desk and kneels between her legs. Wordlessly, she presses her mouth to Fuck Toy's cunt, her tongue teasing her clit out from her hood, tugging at her clit ring, even as her hands find the nipple clips and tug and twist at them. Like Fuck Toy, she knows how to prolong the anticipation, keeping her on edge, very slowly building up the pressure until finally Fuck Toy screams, her whole body convulsing, her cunt clamping hard on the punishment dildo that fills her. Lydia removes the clips and the chain, knowing that despite Fuck Toy's best efforts they make it impossible for her to work efficiently. She slaps her face again, gives her bleeding nipples one final twist, calls her a useless shit-licking waste of space and leaves.

For Fuck Toy, this is just another day of her relentless dehumanisation and humiliation. She survives, just, because she knows very well that the alternative would be much worse.

What did you think? Ademetos would really appreciate it if you gave a star rating...

...or if you're feeling particularly generous write a review.

Ademetos 2019

Report this story