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Over the next few days, Toby started to get used to his situation. If he was careful not to overeat, there was plenty of food in the trough, though it was terribly bland and dry. The water was cold and tasted of iron, but he still drank plenty. It was difficult to move around too much with the heavy chains and the enormous bulk between his legs. His forepaws were attached to the longer body-length chain so high up that he could never reach his waist. Rubbing himself through such thick diapers was basically out of the question anyway. He tried lying down and applying pressure that way, but he still could not feel anything. At least, he thought, he had more room to move than being stuck in the trunk, but really not by much. He couldn't even reach the door of the stall, the heavy chain on his collar stopping him short by a few inches.

This went on for several days, until the bunny was starting to get worried about the food left in his trough. He had maybe a day or two left, and the badger had been gone for... it was hard to tell, but it felt like at least a week. Despite his best efforts, the bunny had no choice in having to both soak his diapers and fill up the rear. Though the wetting spread into the outer layers, the messy part was contained only in the innermost diaper, so he could feel it creeping up around his sheath every time he shifted around. After a few days he even started to ignore the smell of it, mixed in with the badger's remaining scent, the dirt and hay of the barn, and his aging urine. Half the time the potent mixture actually ended up arousing him, even if he couldn't do anything about it.

Toby had just finished the last remaining bit of food when the badger came back one morning. The bunny heard the barn door being unlocked, and saw the sunlight streaming in. He couldn't see the door itself, even when he got as close as he could to the front of his cage. There was a lot of noise, and he could hear equipment being unloaded from the badger's truck. Then the badger proceeded to ignore him completely for several hours. Sounds of power tools, clinking metal, and the familiar crackle of the welder taunted him through the bars of his cell. He clinked his own chains against each other a few times, but there was no acknowledgment he was even there.

After much of the day had passed, his captor finally came up to the bars, dragging his welding torch. He grinned at seeing the disheveled state of the bunny, and neatly cut open the welds holding the door shut. "Miss me?" he said, stepping into the cell and glancing at the empty trough. "Guess you had just enough food, hm? Good timing. Don't want my toy to expire so soon. I've got something new for you!"

He took a minute to cut the length of chain connecting Toby's collar to the floor, but left the others in place. The badger tugged on the short length of chain as a leash, forcing Toby to his feet and shuffling along with feet and legs still bound. The bunny could barely walk, compounded by the extra heavy diapers sagging down to his knees. Thankfully the stall with the drain and hose was only a few feet away. This time, Toby noticed an extra loop of metal freshly embedded in the floor. The badger led him over to this and tugged downward on the leash. Slowly and awkwardly Toby got down on his hands and knees, and his short chain was locked to the floor with a heavy padlock. The badger stepped back and chuckled. "Ooh, I like you in that position. Ready and willing, with your ass in the air."

His diapers had to be cut off this time, because of the duct tape around each waistband--these were dragged off and deposited somewhere outside the barn he couldn't see. Then came the water, as strong and abrasive as before, but Toby welcomed it; despite the water being cold, the pummeling it gave him was a soothing massage to his tired, cramped muscles. He was scrubbed down using soap and water with a stiff brush, and then finally stood up to be briefly dried with a towel.

Roughly grabbing the chain, the badger led Toby over to the project he'd been working on, standing just outside the barn. This was a round, polished steel pole, about as tall as Toby, with several circular braces welded onto it, and a small platform jutting out near the bottom. The pole was also welded to a round plate, which allowed it to stand up on its own. A long cable was attached to a loop at the top, leading up to a winch on a beam that swung out from the barn's hayloft. Next to the pole, the bunny noticed a deep hole in the ground, formed out of two steel drum barrels welded end-to-end and buried. On the other side of the pit was a tall plastic porta-potty with a few odd tubes trailing out the bottom.

The badger gestured to the pole framework. "Up, stand on the little platform here."

Toby hesitated. "Um... no diaper this time, sir?"

The bunny was given a rough shove forward, which almost toppled him into pit. "No," said the badger. "You're going to be a toilet instead."

Toby swallowed hard, grimacing as he tried to climb up onto the platform. Since his paws were still wrapped thickly in the permanent mitts, the only way he could do it was to hug around the pole with both arms and avoid poking himself on the many protrusions. He managed to get up and just barely perch on it, his paws big enough that he had to push his legs close together, the ankle shackles getting slightly in the way. The badger seemed to have anticipated this, slipping in to attach a padlock between the two ankle shackles and a ring welded to the pole--then he added to the restraint by swinging closed a larger metal half-loop just above the cuffs. This bracket curved tightly around and attached to the back of the pole, where the badger brought out his rivet gun and firmly sealed closed with a loud 'THUNK'.

Toby could feel the impact shiver all the way up his back through the steel pole, and he whimpered slightly. The badger continued up the pole, closing a second bar just above Toby's knees, and another around his waist, riveting these closed as well. He took Toby's wrist shackles and locked them around behind the pole, to a ring just below his tail. Another bracket went around his chest, just under his arms, then his collar was locked to the pole as well. Finally, there was a welded-together series of bars that curved around Toby's face, going under his chin, over his muzzle, and up between his eyes--this was riveted in several places to the pole's bracket, and once in place, Toby couldn't even turn his head sideways, the fit was so close. He struggled against the cold metal, but his entire body was now trapped in the tight framework, about a foot above the base of the pole.

The badger grinned, patting Toby on the metal-wrapped head. "Good, toy. This should keep you nicely in place. Now, to get your new home ready." He pushed up a small cement mixer, checking the contents before pouring a fresh layer of cement down into the bottom of the barrel-lined pit. There didn't seem to be very much cement, forming maybe a foot-thick layer at the bottom. Toby wondered what it was for, then he looked down and noticed the base of the pole had several holes in it. At that moment he realized--the pole was going to be cemented in place in the pit. How would he even be freed this time? The barrels were so closely fitted, it didn't look like there would even be room for the badger to get in with a cutting tool to open the rivets. Was this restraint final and permanent?

As he was thinking about this, the whole pole and frame quivered, then he felt it lifting up off the ground. The badger was working the controls to the winch, moving him upwards and then pulling him sideways to directly above the hole. A few manual adjustments, and then the baseplate slipped down into the metal barrel slowly and carefully. Toby shouted up at the badger, "How will you get me out of this?" His captor just smiled, and said, "Toy, what makes you so certain I will?" Toby's view slid down past the lip of the barrel, and he felt the weight shifting slightly as the pole's base settled into the concrete.

The badger checked to make sure it had stopped settling before disconnecting the winch cable and pulling it back up, then attaching it to the top of the big plastic portapotty. This was pulled upwards into the air, then moved to hover directly over the bunny's hole, a wide rubber tube dangling from beneath. Toby's captor leaned down close to his muzzle, holding a wide, flat gag bit with a tube attachment. While he worked on working the gag into Toby's mouth and the straps around underneath the metal, the badger explained. "This is what's going to happen. I've got some friends coming by this place to help with a project, and I need you out of the way for a few days. This is the easiest way to keep you out of trouble and still let me have my fun."

The gag went in easily enough, despite there not being much room to open his muzzle with the metal head cage in place. Toby had a much harder time accepting the small nose plugs that were strapped into place as part of the gag. He snorted and tried to twitch his head out of the way, but with no leeway. It took him several minutes to calm down and breathe through the mouth tube.

The badger waited patiently while Toby got over his initial panic, and continued, "This tube is your source of air, obviously, but also your feeding. Please don't get them too confused! Here's how this works: above you is a toilet with a urinal. The sitting part of the toilet is the usual chemical container, but the urinal has been...altered. There's two tubes leading from it, and I've put in a valve to control one or the other. The air has a separate vent out the top of the outhouse, so don't worry about breathing. Now, you're my toy, so you get the benefit of drinking all my piss over this weekend. But since I don't like to share, when I'm not using you, the valve goes the other way to this nice showerhead. This means my other buddies, all four of them, will be pissing directly on top of you and into the pit. Now of course I want to make sure you're well fed as well, so I'll sometimes pour nutrient drinks down the tube. Just don't mind the extra flavoring." He chuckled at that, and then grabbed the lid of the barrel, fitting the hose through a sealed gasket, and then attaching it firmly to Toby's gag. "Now," he continued, "It might be obvious, but slowly the barrels are going to fill up. Hopefully we won't fill them up entirely over the next few days, but that's what the noseplugs are for, just in case. And this is why I didn't diaper you this time: you get to add to your own toilet mess this time." He reached an arm down and squeezed the bunny's balls, causing his sheath to pulse harder for a moment. "It'll be just like being inside one of your diapers! So I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Oh, and one last thing: don't get any ideas about making noise, trying to get one of my friends to let you out. I can always fill up your hole with more cement."

Toby's last sight was of the badger's grinning muzzle, and then the barrel's lid was slid down and screwed into place tightly. A few minutes later he heard the creaking of the huge plastic porta-potty settling down directly above him. Then the door of the toilet opening, closing, and... suddenly a bitter, salty liquid pouring in through his gag. He swallowed quickly, not wanting to choke, even while his mouth and stomach rebelled at the hot musky taste. This went on for more than a few minutes, and Toby realized the badger must have been drinking a lot of water and holding it for this purpose. The last spurt of the incoming piss poured out of the top of the barrel, soaking directly into his fur, and running down the back of his neck. For once, Toby was grateful for the noseplugs.

Lost in the darkness, Toby had very little way of keeping track of time, but he could still hear things faintly and feel vibrations through the ground, especially after the cement beneath him had hardened. He heard several other cars drive up near to the barn, lots of voices, and several bits of conversation held near enough to his tank to overhear. "I stocked up on lots of beer, please help me drink it all!" was one from the badger, and he didn't recognize the rest. Several hours later, he was soaked nearly continuously as all the badger's friends unloaded what they'd drunk, and went back for more. Loud music and partying echoed down to his ears, as more liquid started to fill up the piss tank, until it was lapping at his toes by what he guessed was the end of the first night.

There was a brief period of quiet, which Toby assumed meant everyone was sleeping. He managed to catch some fitful naps, when the discomfort of his fur being soaked in piss wasn't too distracting. By what passed for morning, his body was sore from standing up and relying up hard metal to support his weight. He was abruptly pulled out of one nap by a fresh surge of badger piss through his gag, then a thick slurry of mush. The taste was bland, but spiced considerably by the pee, tasting somewhat like salty oatmeal. It slid down the tube into his stomach, which actually helped him feel slightly less sick, having something other than liquid there. He'd already added his own wetting to the tank in the night, having no option except to let it trickle down his legs and pool across his toes.

Time passed slowly, over the course of being pissed on both inside and out, napping only to be rudely woken by more liquid or food intake. He could almost count days, because the group seemed to drink lots of beer in the evening after their work, causing a slow deluge. This happened at least three times, and by the third, his tank was full all the way up to his waist, submerging his own sheath. Having nothing else to do or focus on, Toby started to orient his days around the incoming piss, and even started eagerly drinking it down when it was the badger's turn. Some stimulus was better than nothing at all, so every single drop of liquid became its own hyperfocus. In the lack of other senses, Toby's sense of touch heightened, until he found feel each trickle down his back, each ripple created by the steady dripping of the shower nozzle into the pool around him. His taste also changed, getting used to the salty flavor and no longer choking at the bitterness, even prizing the flavor of the badger's output, with or without the nutritional drink. None of this happened all at once, only a slow erosion of the bunny's resistance over minutes and hours and days. The use of his toilet was random enough to never quite allow him to fully rest, or steady enough to get a sense of pattern, since he was being used by five men overall. He was at least relieved that the badger was the only one feeding him directly, since he wouldn't have been able to hold the entire output inside him. Even so, the badger was clearly drinking plenty of water and beer, getting his use out of his toilet-bunny.

By the time four days had passed outside, Toby was so disoriented and sleep-deprived that he barely even noticed the lid of the barrel being removed. He opened his eyes, and immediately closed them again, even the small amount of light being blinding after total darkness. While he whimpered softly and cringed, he felt the noseplugs being loosened, and then the gag removed. By now, the piss in the tank was roughly up to his chest, and everything was soggy. He felt a rivet being cut off his headcage with a pair of bolt cutters, and the tight metal wrapping his face eased slowly away. Such was the state of the bunny's mind that he only tilted his head up, leaving his mouth open as it had been held by the gag, hungry for whatever the badger would give him. Unexpectedly, the badger stroked his head gently, putting a single finger into his muzzle for a moment, then closing it. "Ah, that's a good toy, but we're done with that for now. Did you enjoy my flavor?"

Toby could only nod, having lost his voice. His mouth closed and opened again, out of his control.

The badger chuckled. "Good, good. So, my friends have gone home, time to get you out of the toilet pit. I might actually let you sleep in comfort tonight!" His strong hands took hold of the top of the pole, using several of the welded brackets as leverage to twist the entire thing sideways. Toby's body swirled around in the liquid mess, spinning several revolutions. He realized, thoughts finally coming back to him, that the whole base must have been screwed on, which made it easier to remove the body cage from without breaking the concrete. Finally, the badger winched him up into the air, dripping considerably as his saturated fur drained off.

He was moved sideways as the badger set the pole down horizontally on the ground, and started to cut off the other rivets. The padlocks on his own shackles had rusted shut, and also needed to be cut. Once most of the cage had been opened, Toby slumped off onto the ground.

The badger picked him up with both arms, nose scrunching at the smell. "Phew! You smell like a pig. But that's not a bad thing. Guess what? I've taken care of pigs in my time. In fact, I have a nice big wallow out on the side of the barn. That's where pigs belong. And it's going to rain lots, tonight, so you'll get nice and washed off, plus lots of mud to roll around in!"

The badger walked Toby over to a big fenced-in area near the barn, with newly-added heavy fencing around older wooden logs. In the center of the stye was a large concrete block with another old rusted chain attached to it. The badger walked up to this, and lay the bunny down onto the dirt, quickly snapping a heavy padlock between his collar and the chain. "Enjoy your showers, pig. I'll come back to feed you tomorrow, and maybe add to your mud."

Toby was so weak, he could only lay out on the dirt and look up at the sky, where large dark clouds were gathering. This was the end of the summer, so the temperature itself was still very warm at night, but as heavy drops of rain started to fall, and the badger closed and locked the gate behind him, Toby knew there would be plenty of mud in the pig pen very quickly.

Sure enough, the downpour became quickly torrential, and the packed dirt started to loosen up around him. The bunny rolled over onto his stomach, opening his legs and arms wide. It felt good to stretch out his cramped muscles, and the coolness of the mud was rather enjoyable compared to the hot smelly barrel. He pushed himself up to his hands and knees, then his arms lost strength and he flopped face-first into the mud. He rolled over again, caking his fur with mud--then he kept rolling, getting more and more muddy. He had to stop when the large heavy chain leash pulled up short, but by then he was fully covered, barely recognizable as a bunny anymore. He just had to chuckle to himself--the mud felt so good, and he was so filthy, he felt very much like a pig in a sty. As he was thinking this, his bowels and bladder both let loose without any prompting, and that just made him laugh again. Now he really was a pig, lying in his own mess, as he should be.