On the fifth day, His Master took him through his new routine. He was rinsed, cleansed, and run through his paces on the treadmill. Afterwards, his Master fucked him hard for half an hour, then tied him down to the sling, again with a slightly larger butt plug. "Soon we'll try one of these," he said, holding up his big hairy arm. "There's nothing like the feeling of another man's fist up inside of you. Like you are a puppet that he controls. Twist... look to the left. Twist... look to the right. You'll see, boy."
The weight on his balls swung back and forth slowly. He could almost feel the skin stretching out.
"Tonight is a special night, toilet slave. You will be on display for part of it. Our very own portable toilet for each of our guests to see. I imagine many of them will need one, after the long drive to get here. Think how it will feel to be looked at in your current state by a bunch of strong, masculine men. Kneeling, naked, mouth open for their pleasure. Did you ever imagine you would become an object for the pleasure of so many men?"
Jeff shook his head miserably. His mouth was filled with an inflatable gag.
"Looks like those magic markers I used have just about worn off, boy. Just as well. Time for something a little more permanent." He brought over some equipment from the other side of the dungeon. "I've done a fair share of tattoos in my time, but I think this one will be my crowning achievement. Of course, it will take some time to finish the whole thing. You have a lot of empty skin."
Jeff's eyes widened. He shook his head frantically. Anything but this. Everyone who saw him would see it, would know his secret shame.
"There, there, boy. Calm down. This is going to happen whether you want it or not, and if you move around too much, I might put an eye out." He patted the slave's head, where a bit of hair had started to push its way back through his scalp. "For today, we'll just concentrate on getting your name written across your forehead. The web boys are paying extra for this little show! He picked up the needle, and brought it up to his slave's forehead. "This may hurt a bit."
The pain was immediate and intense. He imagined the ink flooding into the skin of his forehead. He imagined all those thousands of men watching his disfigurement. He fainted.
When he woke, his master was gone, and the pain had faded to a dull throbbing. But there was a mirror positioned directly above him. He could see his balls stretching for the ground, his white skin and the black collar that wrapped around his neck. His angry red, pierced nipples and earlobes. And his tattoo, "toilet slave", etched neatly across his forehead. He started to cry. This, this was irrevocable. Even with laser surgery, you'd always be able to tell it was there.
He was, well and truly, branded a freak.
His Master came back for him after some time. He was released from the sling, and he dropped to the floor. His padded hands cushioned his fall, and he imagined the skin of his fingers beginning to fuse together. They hadn't been released for four days. How long did fusing take?
His Master attached a leash to his collar, and led him toward the stairs. "You've been a good boy these last few days. You're going to get a look upstairs."
He managed to crawl his way up the stairs behind his Master, but the light on the other side of the door was blinding.
He managed a quick look around as his eyes slowly adjusted - hardwood floors, white walls, masculine furniture, before being hauled by the neck into the entryway.
"Toilet slave, I want you to kneel on this pad," his Master said, putting something under him. "Don't want you to ruin your knees. There. Now put your hands behind your back."
He did as he was told, and handcuffs were snapped on his wrists.
"Our guests will begin to arrive in about an hour. You are to remain here, like this, awaiting them. Open your mouth."
He did, and his Master deflated and removed his gag. In its place, he inserted another, this one an open ring. "This will keep you from chomping down on our guests when they arrive and need to use your services."
He attached something to toilet slave's cock. "This is an external catheter. It will collect all your piss and take it into this tube here, which runs downstairs, where we will save it for later."
He placed something over his slave's shoulders. It was a sign that said, neatly lettered, "portable toilet". "You're going to be the hit of the party!" He did something with his remote control. "Now stay in this position. If you sag down too far, you'll feel a shock."
Then he was gone. There was some noise downstairs - Jeff wondered what they were doing down there, and how it would affect him.
After a while, Jeff dared to look around, just a little. Somehow, he felt more naked here, in a regular home, with regular furniture, then he did downstairs in the dungeon. Maybe it was because he was more exposed. It was brighter up here. And you were supposed to be clothed in the real world.
Maybe it was because he knew what was coming.
He could handle piss. God, he thought he could do it. He had so many times with Master Nate.
Through the window in the front door, he could just make out a high wooden fence. No way to tell if there were mountains beyond, or a lake, or...
He heard footsteps, and turned his gaze back to the floor.
Two sets of footsteps.
Two sets of boots, before him.
"Slave boy, look up."
Jeff did as he was told, looking up at Master Nate and this other man. Master Rick? If Master Nate was thick, Master Rick was out and out obese. He was dressed the same, a leather harness and assless chaps. Seemed to be the house uniform. But his cock was hidden under folds of fat.
"This is your other Master, Master Rick. He's been waiting to meet you, but I thought it was best if I trained you a little first. He'd like to make use of the equipment."
He felt a buzz in his core, but he was already here and had his mouth forced open.
His new Master lifted his belly fat, and pushed his soft penis into toilet slave's mouth. He almost gagged on the stench. Hot piss began to pour down his throat.
Master Nate laughed. "Remember how I said I bathe once a week? Well, I'm the clean freak of the household."
The piss seemed to roll down his throat forever, in torrents, and it was harsh and bitter. Jeff managed not to gag on it, his face enfolded by his new Master's fat.
Finally, it was over.
"Very good, boy. Not many slave boys could take all of that in one go. You're getting better. Face down."
Master Rick spoke for the first time. "Not bad, Nate. We'll see how he does with the boys. Can't wait to get him under the throne."
And with that, they were gone, and he was staring at the floorboards again.
His bladder felt full, and he released it into the external catheter, which looked like a big latex bag shaped around his cock. He watched his piss flow down the tube into the dungeon, and reflected on how odd it was to pee here out in the open, where anyone could see. There was a strange new freedom that came with this life - freedom from caring what others thought about what you did, or looked like, or had done to you.
Within another 15 minutes, the first guests arrived. "Marcus, Thom, welcome to the party!" That was Master Nate. "We have appetizers in the living room, wine in the kitchen, and a new appliance here in the entry. Let me take your clothes."
Toilet slave heard the sound of clothing dropping to the floor. "Oh, this one's nice," one of the newcomers said, standing over him. "Where'd you get it?"
"Picked it up at a conference. Still a little rough around the edges, but we're working on it. Would you like to use it?"
"May I? We've been on the road for hours, and I bought one of those big gulps a ways back. I've been dying to piss." His thick, cut cock came into toilet slave's vision, and the stream of piss started before it entered his mouth. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to sprinkle the floors!"
"No problem. That's what these are for." Master Nate wiped the drops off the hardwood floor with a hand towel.
"Why is his cock so stiff? Happy to see me?"
"We keep him like that all the time. He's easier to control in a state of continual arousal."
Jeff swallowed the new man's piss; it was a little sweet, maybe from the soda? His cock smelled like irish spring - quite a change from Master Nate and Master Rick. He shivered... it looked like he would earn his new name tonight.
The man finished up, and then withdrew his cock and slapped the slave's face with it. "I think we need one of these, Thom... this is so handy. Don't even have to get up from work to take a piss."
"You can borrow this one when he's ready, see if you like the whole thing..." Master Nate offered.
No, he wouldn't...
"He even takes full anal - loves it. Lives for it."
"You'll see for yourself later. Hope you came full."
The nausea rose up in Jeff's stomach, but he forced it down.
"My turn," Thom said, pushing his dark cock into the slave's mouth. His piss was bitter and pungent. "Ate some asparagus just before we came. I couldn't resist."
Toilet slave had never known piss could taste so different from different men - he'd never had reason to give it much thought.
Then it was over, and the tastes mingled in his filthy mouth. "You guys really know how to throw a party," Thom said as they moved on to the living room.
A little piss trickled out of the corner of his mouth, but he didn't dare to touch it.
The next guest arrived, and the door swung open. "Thank you so much for inviting me... I couldn't believe it when I saw his face on your site the other night."
Oh God no... he knew that voice.
"I'm sure he'll be glad to have you here. Can I take your clothes?"
"I've never been to a party like this before. It's a little out of my league."
How was he here?
"He was always such a prick to me. I knew he was a fucking faggot." A familiar pair of wingtips approached. "It is him. It's Jeff!"
Pain shot up his spine at the mention of his old name, but he stayed resolutely still.
Ron's face appeared suddenly at eye level, his long greasy hair and owl-eyed glasses. "Hi buddy - how's it feel to be turned into a filthy slave?"
"We call him toilet slave now," Master Nate said.
"Toilet slave? Suits him. Look at him... naked with his cock stuck out in front of him... he has a hard-on for me!"
"You can use him, if you want. He's here to serve his life's purpose."
"Oh god, yes. Here you go, toilet slave. I've wanted to do this to you for a long time."
His small cock was inserted into Jeff's mouth. His piss dribbled out onto Jeff's tongue. Jeff shuddered. God, reduced to Ron from accounting's piss slave... he'd thought he couldn't get any lower. But how did he get here?
"Thanks so much, guys." He pulled out his cock.
"Come with me," Master Rick said. "We have appetizers."
Master Nate whispered in his ear. "Don't worry - we picked him up at LAX and chauffered him here blindfolded. He has no idea where we are. But I thought you'd enjoy our little surprise. Nothing like being humiliated in front of people who knew you in your old life, is there?"
Jeff closed his eyes. It was the only thing he had control of anymore.
Three more guests arrived, each one taking his turn with the new appliance.
Then they were gone, and he was left alone for awhile. It was strange, being up in the world again; he could, almost, pretend he wasn't naked and collared and full of other mens' piss. Almost, for a moment, he could be a normal man again, albeit on his knees.
Then the moment was shattered as some of the men spilled out of the living room into the entry way, and once again he was a slave, naked before his betters.
"Can we use him for other things?" one of the guests asked.
"Not for fucking, if that's what you're thinking, Jason. That's for me and Rick alone. But we will put him to another use soon. Come on out on the porch for a beer - it's a beautiful evening."
And they were gone. Except for one.
"Hi there, Jeffie," Ron said, and he jumped despite himself. "Name makes you jump, little toilet slave? Jeff, Jeff, Jeff."
Jeff spasmed but fought to keep himself upright.
"This is so sweet. You always treated me like shit, and now I finally get to return the favor, and you can't do anyyyyything about it, can you." He ran his hand across the slave's short-cropped hair. "Oh, how I've waited for this." He removed the ring gag, setting it on the floor. "It's just you and me, Jeff."
"Or is it toilet slave? See, your Master told me about the whole pain/pleasure thing. Suck my cock, toilet slave." He pushed his four inch, hard cock into his ex colleague's mouth. Jeff shuddered. "Suck it, toilet slave."
Pleasure washed through him at the mention of his new name, and he sucked Ron's cock with a vengeance. "Look at this, little faggot toilet slave sucking my cock. And he likes it. Who'd have thunk. You like it. Toilet slave!"
God, Jeff wanted him, wanted this man's cock in his mouth, even as he hated it, hated sucking on this little faggot's cock. That drove him even harder.
Ron gasped, his breath coming faster and faster. "Oh God, oh god, Jeff..."
Pain coursed through Jeff's spine, and he bit down instinctively.
The front door slammed open. "He bit me! The fucker bit my cock."
"Were you fucking him?" Master Nate sounded dangerously quiet.
"Yes, you said if I called him toilet slave..."
Jeff was shaking like a leaf. Oh God, what will he do to me now?
"It looks ok - just an abrasion," Master Nate said. "I made it very clear that no one was to fuck him - not in the ass, not in the mouth. Was I clear?"
"I just wanted to..."
"Was I clear?"
"You need to leave. Now. The limo will take you back to the airport." He took Ron by the neck and squeezed. "And if you ever speak of this to anyone, this will be you. Do I make myself clear?"
"Get your clothes and go." Master Nate knelt by his slave. "Not your fault, boy. For this, you are mine and Master Rick's alone. Tonight, though, we will share some of your other talents." The leash was fastened back to his collar. "The rest of you, we're heading down to the dungeon now. It's full of cameras - we've provided masks for all of you on hooks by the door to hide your identities. All except this one." He patted his slave on the head. "So come on down to the dungeon. We have a surprise for our little toilet slave." He fiddled with the remote. "You can follow me now, boy."
He scampered after his Master, down the stairs to his usual home. The room was dark, but Master Nate flicked on a light.
Where the throne had been, there was now a plexiglass structure. "Behold, toilet slave, the new throne. It's transparent, lit from within so all of our friends can see your good work."
Jeff paled. It had been bad enough to be watched by unseen eyes. Now everyone here could see his debasement.
"And we installed a new flusher for after each... job. You didn't think we'd let all that good piss go to waste, did you?" The new throne had a toilet tank, and with a sinking feeling, Jeff knew what it was filled with. "Well? Let's get on with it."
"Into the throne, boy," He said, and opened a door in the side of the new enclosure.
Jeff complied, noticing that the new throne had a plexiglass seat with a hole in it for him to sit on, and a bucket below.
"Chew this," his Master said softly, almost kindly. He put a tablet into toilet slave's mouth. "It's a laxitive. It will keep things moving so your stomach doesn't get distended." He gave his slave a look of almost pity. "Unfortunately, that means I have to remove this." He pointed to the dildo.
Oh God, Jeff thought... I have to get through this without the pleasure coursing through me. He looked around, panicked, at the seven men in the room.
"Focus, boy, and chew." his Master said, taking him by the chin.
Shaking, he did as he was told. The chalky pill finally made its way down his throat.
His Master unstrapped and removed the dildo, then let his slave sit down. "This is just a crutch. You know how much you want this. You know what a sick, twisted fuck you are inside. Surrender yourself to it, to your need, your desire, your lust to be treated this way - to eat the shit of seven men. Throw yourself into it, and I promise you will get through this ok." His Master then removed the external catheter, pulling it from the boy's now soft penis. The latest dose of viagra had worn off, too.
The new throne also had a large clear toilet bowl that swiveled off to the side in two parts. Master Nate positioned Jeff's head, and then swung the parts around his neck to connect into a solid bowl. He was now effectively immobilized, locked into the bowl, with just a little room around his neck for excess liquid to escape.
His Master stood back and closed the door, encasing toilet slave under the throne. "We're up to 10,000 viewers now, friends - let's give them a show."
Techno music blared from some speaker, and the masked men around him started engaging each other. His Master was the only one, besides him, who didn't wear a mask.
In one corner, two men kissed deep-throat; in another, Master Nate and Master Nick selected a copule dildoes to use on one of the other guests.
As the sights and sounds of gay sex and S&M began to build around him in the semi darkness, Jeff;s cock grew again, and he sat in the middle of it all, naked, horny and alone.
That didn't last long, though. Soon, one of the men, Thom, ascended the throne, lifting the lid and pissing down onto toilet slave's face.
Jeff opened his mouth, accepting as much of it as he could into his mouth; the rest splashed down into the bowl and pooled around his neck, slowly dripping out of te bowl, down his body, and into the floor. God, he wished he could touch his cock. It jumped at the thought.
I can't ever touch it again.
He got harder.
I deserve this. I want this. I need to be pissed on and shit in...
Even harder. His cock was now standing up like a tent pole.
Oh God, My Master was right. What a sick fuck I am. He moaned, but his cock only insisted on getting taller.
Next, one of the other guests mounted the throne. He sat, and jacked himself off. His small ass pressed down onto Jeff's face. When his ass cheeks opened, his shit came out in small pieces. Jeff took each in his mouth, squirming at the thought of what he was doing, and forced himself to chew and swallow. The man's groans above as he brought himself closer and closer to ejaculation turned Jeff on even more, and suddenly he felt that familiar surge of pleasure inside of himself.
He tackled the man's ass with his tongue, prying out more of the shit-nuggets, seeing himself as these men saw him, as the thousands on the internet saw him - as a thing, an appliance, a former man who had been reduced to this basest of objects, fit only to take shit and piss into his mouth.
He was starving, having not eaten since morning, and it felt good to get something into his stomach, even something second-hand.
Soon, too soon, it was over. There was a flushing sound, and a wave of piss crashed down on him. He took it eagerly, washing out his mouth with it, but most of it washed over him, spilling into the bowl. It lapped up to his chin now as it continued its slow drip to te floor down his naked body. His bare feet sat in a puddle of cold piss.
His stomach churned. The laxative was doing its work.
All at once, the shame slammed into him again, and the nausea, but he had no time to think about it, as the next guest was climbing the throne.
His cock surged again, and he put himself back to work.
Outside, he heard the sound of a whip, and moans and groans as the party progressed. The music covered up some of the sounds, but every now and then someone cried out, in pain or in pleasure.
This man, Marcus, if he remembered correctly, sat down and his ass immediately opened up, sending a flood of diarreah down onto toilet slave's face. Some of it flew into his open mouth, and he retched a little. But the flood just pushed him deeper into his drug, his shame, and once it was done, he cleaned the man's ass with a vengeance.
"This is gonna need two flushes," Marcus said, peering down at him. He tweaked the handle once, and a flood of piss came down. Once more, and most of the shit was washed off his face. But the level rose past his mouth, and he had to drink in the misture of piss and shit to keep it from blocking his nostrils. It had a sickening consistency and taste, but he managed to clear enough space, and the rest slowly drained down, leaving a film on his chin and neck. The container he was in was evidently waterproof, for the puddle at his feet was an inch deep now.
His cock softened again, and he let go of his own piss, adding to the pool. If this kept on, he would be up to his knees in piss.
His cock hardened again.
His stomach rumbled threateningly.
The next man ascended the throne, his third, and sat down, his hairy ass smelling like soap. The clean smell clashed with his reality, and he forced himself to concentrate on his own wretched state.
This one came out as a long, hard log. Jeff took it in his mouth as he was learning to take his Master's cock, lovingly, working his mouth up and down the shaft, pushing it in and out of the man's ass. The man above him groaned in pleasure at being fucked by his own shit.
Gradually, it dissolved in toilet slave's mouth. It wondered why it even thought of itself as Jeff anymore. Clearly its master was right. This wasn't something that was being done to him. This was something inside of him. Not him. It. This was like a birth, an awakening, a becoming.
Why not accept itself, its fate, and embrace it? Throw itself into the shame, the filth, the horror?
Its cock twitched, and it took in everything the man above it had to offer. Soon enough, it was over, and the piss-flush washed away the taste.
As the man left, Jeff recoiled. What was wrong with him? Was his Master right? Was this back and forth, this shame and lust, the core of who he was? Why couldn't he just give himself over to it fully? His cock shrank. Why did he have to ride this roller coaster of shame and lust and self hatred and perversion and humiliation?
Because it felt so fucking good.
When he had been thrust into his new role, he felt pleasure as intense, no, more intense than any he'd ever felt before in his life. And a strange sense of freedom, as Master Nate had told him. Freedom from convention, from society, from expectations. From himself. He descended into being "it", non-human, less-than. Debased.
And his cock wanted more - wanted to be kept in this state all the time, not just for a few minutes here and there. He didn't even know if that was possible. But God, he wanted it.
The fourth man soon arrived, setting himself down and shitting into the toilet slave's mouth. As it chewed on this man's shit, its own bowels let loose into the bucket that awaited them, and toilet slave experienced for the first time the sensation of shit going into its mouth and out of its ass at the same time. Its face burned red, imagining itself shown on ten thousand blue computer screens in this state, piss halfway up its calves. Its cock twitched.
When the fifth man was finished, his piss dribbled down the side of the bowl, past toilet slave's shoulder. It was pungent, asparagus.
The sixth came right after - Master Rick, heaving his heavy form up the steps. The whole throne shook around Jeff, splashing piss up to his knees. He was afraid the whole thing might collapse under the weight, but it must have been strong, because it held.
Master Rick put his weight down on the toilet seat, and his fat buttocks spilled down into the bowl where toilet slave's head waited. He was gassy, and it was a long while before his shit emerged, a long, slender piece that belied his size. Toilet slave took it nevertheless. His stomach was beginning to feel overly full, despite the laxitive.
His Master didn't have much for him, though, and soon he was spinning back down into shame.
One more, Jeff thought. Just one more to get through this.
Finally, Master Nate climbed the throne. He looked down at his slave with something like pride on his face. "I've been saving up all day for you, boy," he said, seating his now familiar ass over toilet slave. "I see you've found your way to submerge yourself in your shame, boy Literally and figuratively."
His sat down and his ass opened up, and his shit began to come out. "Take it, boy, take it because you want it. Take it because you need it." he pressed his ass down toward toilet slave's face.
Toilet slave took it in a frenzy, swallowing it as fast as he could. More, more, he wanted more of it, more of this, wanted this Man to use him, abuse him, push him down into his shame. God it felt good.
His Master reached a hand down and pushed some of the shit into his face, up his nostrils. "Breathe it in, boy. Breathe in your new life."
Toilet slave did.
"What's your name, boy?"
"Not a boy," it gasped. "A slave. Toilet slave, Sir!" More shit poured into its mouth. It seemed to go on forever, and it hung suspended between shame and lust.
Finally, suddenly, it was over. Toilet slave awaited the inevitable piss flush, but it didn't come. Instead, it opened its eyes to see its Master peering down at it. "Look at you, covered in shit and piss, made into a toilet for a whole party. Seen in this wretched state by thousands. This is the lowest you have ever sunk, boy, and you WANTED it. You practically begged for it."
Toilet slave nodded miserably.
"I'm going to give you one chance, slave. This is it. If you want, I will let you go. I will send you out into the world again, and you can be what you were before. You can be Jeff again."
There was no pain.
Jeff held his breath. Surely this was some kind of trick. Surely He didn't mean it.
"But think hard, slave. Once you leave here, you can never come back."
He felt like he was hyperventilating. of course he wanted to leave. Of course he wanted to get away from this sickness, this perversion. Didn't he?
"If you stay, I promise you will have a life like no other. You will become something else. This name Jeff will mean nothing to you. You will ride this wild train of pleasure and shame and lust like you never dreamed you could. Tonight will be just the beginning of what I will do to you."
Oh God, oh God... "What..." he whispered...
"What.. what else would you do to me?" He was shaking like a leaf. His cock was rock-hard.
Master Nate smiled. "I will make you over into something else. You will never again touch your own cock. Master Rick will hypnotize you to do things and go places within yourself that you never knew existed. And all the while part of you will know that you made this choice, that you put yourself into this life. That you have no way out. That these things will always disgust you. We can give you that - the shame you have wanted needed all your life - that sense of disgust that drives you to such sexual and emotional highs and lows."
Jeff sat there, covered in shit and piss. He could leave. He could be normal again.
But what if he didn't want to be normal? God help him, what if he wanted this? Forever?
The other guests had all gathered around to watch from behind their masks.
"So which choice is it, boy? Do you want to go back out there, among the Rons and spinster aunts and Samanthas and resume a normal life? Or do you stay here, and accept this new life of shit and piss and unending degradation?"
Yes, he wanted it. Deep in his soul, he needed it. Needed to be treated like this. Deserved to be treated like this. Burned to be treated like this. "Slave, Sir. I am your slave, not a boy." The words felt like they were being forced out of him by something deep inside, something gutteral. His cock stayed hard, untouched. "This slave wants to stay, sir, to be your toilet slave, to be whatever you want to mold it into."
This time he rode the torrent of shame and lust and disgust like a wave, his cock throbbing between his legs. "This slave wants to take your shit, your piss, your degradation, to be pushed down into its own filth and to be taught its own lack of worth, Sir, every minute, every day, for the rest of his life!" What was he doing? Why was he saying this? He had a chance to escape! But there was no turning back now.
Its body was shaking again, and it thrust its cock into the air again and again, desperate for release.
"This toilet slave wants to live every day, for the rest of its life, in continual humiliation and lust, sir, no release, no escape, in regret of this choice every day, Sir!" The pressure built and built inside it, and then at last it released. Its semen spurted out all over the plexiglass wall in front of it, and it collapsed, sobbing, knowing what it had just committed itself to. In front of its Masters. In front of all these men. In front of the world.
The door was opened, and its Master freed it from the bowl. Warm hands helped it up out of the box as the piss and shit spilled out onto the concrete and down a drain.
Master Nate helped it walk across the floor, and the others formed two lines around them and spit on it as it passed. "This is the last time you'll walk on two legs, slave," he whispered. "I'm proud of you."
It was led up the steps, out of the dungeon, and down the hall to the entry. Its Master led it, naked and smelling of piss and shit, out to the yard to where a large poll stood, embedded in concrete in the dirt. The moon was almost full overhead, illuminating the courtyard.
"You have made your last choice, toilet slave, and now you will live with the consequences for the rest of your natural-born life. Instead of freedom, you have chosen servitude, shame, and pride in your own twisted desires."
He took the collar and attached it to a heavy metal chain with a lock that was connected to the poll.
"Tonight, slave, you will sleep out here under the stars, naked for all to see, and contemplate your future. Tomorrow we will continue your training."
It looked up and saw that the men had all put their clothes back on. In contrast, it was naked in the yard, covered in its shame, surrounded by its betters.
One by one, they opened their flies and pissed on it there in the dirt, until the mud was all churned up around it.
Then they left it there, all alone. It was fast-asleep in minutes.