Hello everyone! This is the start of a bit of a more out-there series! All of these stories are commissions from the same person, with at least one character staying the same between each one, so I decided to group them together~!

In this series, we follow Horatio the rabbit as he adds to his collection of cement statues, each made from living victims~

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This story contains: Petrification, cement/concrete, scat, someone getting trapped, peril, unwilling

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Word Count: 1822

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	“And here, we have our famous star walkway!” The rabbit smiled as he motioned to the walkway, a long, cement path, all made up of large, square tiles with cement statues on each one representing the celebrity to whom the tile belonged. Gold-painted stars sat on each one, each having the celebrity’s name.

	Frankie was a short, anthro, white-furred poodle, currently wearing a button-up beach shirt and khaki shorts, along with a pair of cheap, plastic sunglasses. He was visiting California for a vacation, and it was currently his third day - he’d decided to go on a few tours of local places, and the first one was the infamous “star walkway” he’d heard so much about. He saw an ad for a free tour online, and immediately took it… however, it seemed like he was the only one who had signed up.

	As for the tour guide, he was a white rabbit with brown spots named Horatio, also wearing a pair of sunglasses, along with a nice black suit, making him look professional, even though his head of white fur was very messy and one of his long ears was flopping down while the other stood up straight. He ran the tour for free, but that’s only because he had other ways of making money off of his customers.

	“Now, the first one we have here is Train Smith! You may know him from his music career in the late 90s, one of the most popular rock musicians of that decade!” The rabbit spoke enthusiastically, smiling, motioning to the cement sculpture as though he was selling it as a product.

	“O-oh, right, um, I love his music!” Frankie said with a small chuckle. In all honesty, he didn’t recognize that musician at all… or any of these people, for that matter. All he saw was some random anthro-dog sculpture, positioned weirdly, actually laying down on its stomach, its butt sticking in the air. He didn’t question it - he knew art could be weird sometimes; there was probably meaning in it.

	“Of course, who didn’t?” The rabbit cheerfully responded, knowing fully well that Frankie was lying through his teeth. “And next, here’s Grace Heralds… oh, my.” The next one was a hippo, larger in size, also laying on her stomach, with her legs spread. In between those legs, right by her ass, was a large load of dark-brown shit, multiple logs all buried on top of each other, looking like they were all freshly pushed out.

	“Er, what’s with the poop?” Frankie scratched the side of his head, a bit confused. It was almost like she’d actually taken a shit, with how the pile had landed.

	“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’m sure it was just an irresponsible pet owner walking their dog and letting it go wherever it wants. We get a lot of those in this city. Anyways, onto the next one!”

	The rabbit went on and on, showing off the different sculptures, each one laying flat on its stomach, and a few more of them even having more piles of shit. The rabbit mulled over it each time, always saying it was a dog or something, but Frankie was starting to find it a bit odd. What were the chances that multiple different animals had taken a shit here? Even more, all of the loads seemed pretty unique, not like it was all from the same creature. But what other possibility could there be besides some dog? He just decided to ignore it and get to the end of the weird tour.

	“And finally, we have our last one, Frankie Lesterson!” The rabbit motioned to a square tile full of… wet cement? Frankie tilted his head.

	“Um… sorry, what do you mean?” That was his full name. Was this some kind of marketing gimmick? Or maybe a ‘one day, you’ll be a star too!’ sort of thing? Well, it was a nice sentiment at least - honestly, Frankie loved the idea of being a star one day. He’d been chasing it his whole life, though he’d never put any real effort into making anything or doing anything special. 

	“Oh, you’ll find out momentarily, my friend!” Horatio chuckled, waved his hand in the air… and suddenly, Frankie couldn’t move a muscle. “There we go! See, son, this tour isn’t actually free at all!” The rabbit chuckled as he reached into the poodle’s pockets, pulling out his wallet, car keys, and phone, then stashing them all in a tote bag.

	“H-hey, w-what are you d-doing with t-that?” Frankie struggled to speak, each word being a strain. His whole body shivered lightly; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move at all. Although he did notice a sudden need to use the bathroom… and quite badly.

	“Oh, don’t worry, my wonderful customer!” The rabbit laughed again, grabbing the poodle’s shirt, unbuttoning it, and pulling it off, then doing the same with his pants and underwear, completely stripping him of all clothing and revealing his cock, which was, for some reason, currently very hard, and his fuzzy, large ass. “I can see it in your eyes - don’t you want to be a star, just like all of these people?”

	“B-be a star? W-what are you-”

	“Shhh, close your mouth - you’re not going to want to have it open for this!” The poodle nervously shut up, as the rabbit suggested. “Alright, enjoy your new life of fame!” 

	Horatio pushed Frankie down, face-first, completely naked, right into the cement tile. His body splashed in, the cement all splattering out around, as his body sank just a half inch down into the liquid. It was warm from being in the sun for so long, in an almost comfortable way, despite how thick it was… but that quickly changed. The cement began to harden, becoming solid stone, all around the poodle, now feeling cold and rough against his skin. He was currently face-down in it, and like a mold, it solidified around his features, making it so he shouldn’t have been able to breathe, but for some reason, he could. 

	In fact, the rabbit had used magic to make it so the poodle would no longer need air to breathe at all - he was fine just like that. “More incoming~!” The rabbit dumped multiple buckets of wet cement right on top of Frankie’s body, quickly burying him in it, and letting the cement dry and harden, a thick but form-fitting layer on top of his body… and then, the world was just darkness, and the poodle couldn’t move a muscle. He realized then - those weren’t statues; they were people who had gone through this exact same treatment. 

	“Perfect!” Horatio snickered as he looked at the new addition to his collection, grabbing a golden star, putting it into a bit of cement that remained wet, and writing, “Frankie Lesterson” with chalk. He rubbed the large bulge in his dress pants and made a very wet stain on his underwear - stealing wallets and other valuables from customers made for a good business, but really, he did this for the sheer pleasure and fun of it all. However, it wasn’t done quite yet.

	The poodle, despite being buried in cement, was still fully-alive and aware, even able to hear the sounds of the world around him, but he couldn’t move a muscle. However, he still needed to use the bathroom… and now, he needed to go extra bad. He could feel shit filling up inside of his system, begging to come out of his ass, to be freed from his body. There was no way that that would work at all, the cement was covering his butt… but nonetheless, he wanted the relief of clearing up the pressure and the fullness.

	If he could’ve spoken, he would’ve sighed in relief as he relaxed his body and pushed with his ass. Immediately, a log of dark-brown, hard shit slowly slid its way out of his cheeks… and the moment it hit the cement, the stone just cracked, and the shit fell through, landing outside.

	And falling it was another log, and another, and another. Frankie felt amazing - it was the best shit of his life! Every bit just slid out perfectly, nice and fast, quickly piling up on the ground. He could feel his body getting lighter, could feel the pressure inside of him lessening as he emptied his tank, as he softly pushed out more and more. It was a weirdly amazing feeling, even if he did feel embarrassed and humiliated.

	The rabbit laughed as he watched the sight, the logs spilling forth from the imprisoned anthro. Such a gross and humiliating way to die! Frankie was going to be trapped in there for the rest of his life, just like everyone else here, and he’d get to listen to dozens of new tourists come by and get shoved in, just like him. And every time he had to shit, he’d just do it, right there, leaving a pile on the ground, being the only source of pleasure he would ever gain from then on, the only real action he could take, just letting out gross, hard logs. And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

	“Hahaha! Ah, what a loser!” The rabbit grabbed his bag and began to walk back to the start of the walkway. “Well, I’ve got more customers to bury, so have fun getting used to your new home! Congrats on becoming a star!”

	And so, the rabbit continued, and every day, he managed to bring in more and more customers, until his walkway had extended horizontally and vertically, getting larger and larger, trapping tons of unexpecting, foolish tourists. It was his masterpiece. His gross, shit-scented masterpiece. And Frankie was just one of the many.

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