Nightprincessluna's collection of unfinished and unedited fanficton

Prologue

Hatter realised far too late that the idea he was following through on might not have been the best idea he had ever had. The light gray unicorn’s ideas were not normally the best, even when he was thinking straight. And right now, the stallion was far from thinking correctly, because four beers worth of alcohol were currently working its way around his system.

Had this not been this drunk, he might not have come up with such a bad plan, and even if the same plan had popped into his head, Hatter would not have messed it up in such a huge way. His plan had been to sneak into the pretty purple horse’s(Also known as Princess Cinnamon’s) castle and loot all the precious goods he could manage.

It was mainly because he was going through a really rough patch in his life, and he needed all the money he could scrape together just to keep himself fed. To start with he had only stole to keep his daughter fed, but then she had left and his life had lost all purpose and fell apart. He needed to make money fast to stay alive, so he had spent the last of his bits on alcohol and cooked up an all-or-nothing plan.

Hatter had once tried out a plan just like this, but with Princess Celestia’s castle rather then the smaller castle that Cinnamon owned. It had, as one would expect, ended horribly. Him and a few of his friends had managed to make it into the castle, or much rather the pantry. There one of his friends had met their end on the end of a spear.

Him and his friends had not been as greedy, and had managed to make it away with a sack of flour. This time it was just him on his own, so he had planned not to use force, and just sneak through the castle using stealth. This had been when it had gone horribly wrong. He had made it into the treasury, forced the door with his magic and begin emptying everything he could into a large sack.

It turned out that it had been better protected then he had thought however, and in his drunk state, he had failed to notice a magical alarm that had been set on the door, and before he was even half done with filling the sack, half a dozen bat ponies wielding spears and wearing metal armour rushed in.

Hatter realised in that moment that he was likely going to get more holes then a tea bag if he attempted to fight back. He also realised that it was better then being caught alive. He gave a sigh and dropped the sack, his horn glowing a dark green under the black top hat that he wore. He used his telekinesis to pull a pair of knives from beneath his red trench coat.

The guards looked shocked at his recklessness, and at the sharpness of the blades. His two knives were special to him, the handles were made of the finest oak, the blades the finest steel. They had claimed many a life, and he hoped to claim a few more before he got speared.

He gave a grin, his green eyes seeming to shine from beneath the stallion’s top hat as he leapt forward, knives swinging in an arc at the guard in the middle who seemed to be the leader. The blade scraped off the metal of the black armour, scraping up until it reached his throat, where it left a rather deep cut. The other guards acted far faster then Hatter had expected, and suddenly he had been speared three times in the rear, punching through his jacket and sinking into the flank beneath.

Hatter barely felt any pain as he looked back at the spears that had stabbed into him, no doubt he had gone into shock. His mouth flapped uselessly, trying to form words and failing once he realised that there was only one word that could be used in this situation.

“Bugger.” And with that, his knives fell from the magic that held them, and his head fell forward to try and accept the death he knew was coming. Hatter could feel warm fluid flowing down his legs, no doubt it was blood. That or he had urinated and was getting confused over where the fluid was leaking from. For once, Hatter hoped it was blood.

The spears shifted, pulling from out of him. His hind legs no longer had the strength to hold him up after having a spear stabbed into them, so he decided it was best to crumple in a heap rather then keep weight on them. He was done, finished, defenceless. All they had to do was finish him with a quick stab to the head. He lay there and waited for his demise. And waited.

But it never came. No matter how long he seemed to wait, death did not come to wrap its cold, bony hooves around him. Soon he opened one of his eyes and rolled it around the room, the guards had put their spears away and were all facing towards one point. He tried to turn his head to face the same spot, but his head would not turn. His whole body was numb, going cold from the amount of blood that he had lost.

He was so weak, he needed to rest… His eye slowly closed once again, everything returning to blackness as he slowly drifted off into a deep sleep, one which he hoped to never wake from again. A deep sigh left his lungs, a final breath before everything everything begin to shut down, slowly dying in a puddle of his own blood. The alcohol had made him stupid, made his blood thin. And because of that, he was going to die.

All or nothing, and it appeared that after all the effort he had put in, he was getting nothing from out of it.

Chapter One

Hatter awoke to a world of pain. Waking up was a surprise, and the pain meant that he was not in a heaven. And the pain was nowhere near the agony he would expect from a hell. Following this logic, it must have meant he was still alive somehow.

His eyes slowly opened, stone. He could see stone walls. He groaned, shaking his head to make it focus. He was in a dungeon, shackled to the ground with double irons. He had been captured. A growl left his lips, horn lighting up to try and draw his knife to end his life. A sharp pain shot through him, making him curse loudly. He knew that feeling, his horn had been bound.

He could feel the cold metal ring locked around his horn, keeping his magic just out of reach. He also realised in that moment that his body was cold, and that even if he had his magic, he had no knives as he was not wearing his jacket.

So this was it then, they had caught him. He slowly shambled to his hooves, tugging on the chains softly. He had about half a meter of movement in each direction, but there was no way he was breaking the double irons, or the thick iron rings that held them in place. So he was stuck here. He gave a deep sigh, and sat down on the floor.

His eyes darted around the room, looking for something to keep his mind entertained. But there was nothing, just the cold stone room and the metal door that led to the outside, taunting him by being so out of reach. He was stuck here with his boredom until that door opened and somepony came in and entertained him. He just hoped they killed him soon, he could not live a life in chains.

He did not have to wait long thankfully, as an hour later the door creaked open slowly. Hatter squinted softly at the stallion and gave a sly grin.
“Somebody really needs to oil that door, you should hire a janitor or something.” Hatter jested, it was the best joke he had been able to come up with on such short notice.

The stallion on the other side did not even crack a smile, which made Hatter’s frown deepen. Anybody who could not laugh at his jokes while he was chained up was a misery-guts. He did not like this stallion already. As soon as he stepped out of the doorway, Hatter was deciding how best to go about killing him and making his escape.

He stallion was a dull blue in colour, he had purple hair with light blue highlights, and his blue eyes seemed to burrow into Hater’s soul. It would have been effective, if he had a soul to start with. But he did not, so he just laughed at this silly earth pony. The stallion just watched him with the same flat look on his face, waiting for him to finish laughing.

Hatter did not stop for nearly a full minute, then relaxed in his chains again “OK, I am good now. What were you about to say?” Hatter asked calmly.
“Do you know who I am?” The stallion asked, giving him a very flat glare.
“Mr Grumpy?”
“No, I am Count Patagium, husband to Cinnamon. And you just broke into my castle, scared my wife and attempted to steal my stuff.”
“Your wife should be scared, her security is terrible, and so are your attempts at intimidating me.”
“Intimidate you?” The Count asked, a frown disturbing his otherwise smooth face, “I am not trying to intimidate you. I know who you are, I have seen the wanted posters, you are a filthy rapist and cut throat.”

Hatter gave a grin, confidently speaking now “Yes, that would be me. So come on and try to do something about it.”
The Count just gave a smirk, a smirk that sent a chill down his spine.
“I know your type, and I am going to train you.”
“Kinky, come on then, try it.”
“Not until you beg for it. I know you will hate it in this room, chained and unable to touch yourself. I will be back in a month, and I bet you will be begging then.”

And just like that he left, Hatter barely managing to get in a “No! Wa-” Before the door clanked shut.

The next month was agony for Hatter, a pretty mare in a French maid outfit came in to feed him, clean up his waste and fit a heavy metal chastity belt over his crotch to make sure he did not get off. The mare was as white as snow, with hair as black as night, and the warmest brown eyes. The three times a day she came in to feed him his gruel, soup and mashed vegetables (In that order), were the highlight of his day. He tried to be strong, not to give up, or give in.

By the end of the first week he was pleading with the mare to help him, she just looked at him in the way someone would look at a wounded puppy, then left. By the end of the second week he was writhing about in his chains and begging for her to fuck him, which just got a disgusted look from the mare as she placed down his food and left. By this point his muzzle was coated in food, and he was starting to break down.

By the end of the third week he was writhing as if in agony, clanking his chains in an attempt to get some kind of stimulation as he drooled all over the stone floor, his eyes darting about frantically. This got the weirdest response from the mare, who stopped, watching him as he struggled.

Then she laughed. A full on laugh full of joy, even her head was thrown back. This was enough to make Hatter stop, frowning at her. He did not get what was so funny, all the kindness had vanished from her eyes.

“This, this is priceless,” She said in a faint, timid voice “You have been here for less then four weeks, and after the first week, the only words you spoke were begging for sex, and even now you can barely string words together. To start with, I felt sorry for you, even though you were the one that raped my mother.”
Hatter stopped struggling at these words, looking at the mare in shock as he tried to croak out an apology, but the mare cut him off with sharp words.

“Don’t even bother, you are nothing but an animal doing what is needed to earn a treat. I bet you can’t even remember my mother, can you?”
Hatter frowned, really trying to, but non of the ponies he could recall resembled this mare in the slightest. The maid chuckled “That is what I thought. Nothing but an animal, and like an animal you can eat off the floor.” She said, tipping his bowl onto the floor in front of him, the thick mix of vegetables hitting the floor with a wet splat.

Then she tipped his water onto it, and walked out the door. She turned just as he begin to lick it up, scraping grime off the floor into his mouth with it. After this point, he just hung there limp, looking down at the floor. She still visited, pouring his food onto the floor and taunting him. He was too broken to even retaliate.

He had lost all sense of time by this point, and he was sure it had been at least four months and he had been forgotten about. But then the door swung open and it was not the maid, Count Patagium had finally returned to claim him.

Hatter was beyond caring by this point, hanging limp in his chains and barely even bothering to raise his head as the Count strolled in. His body was tired, his muscles having gone weak from a month without exercise.

“How are you feeling now, Hatter?” The Count asked.
Hatter barely managed to mutter something, still struggling with the lust that was wrecking through his body.
“Pardon?” He asked, stepping closer.
“Oh Sinnerpony, where you gonna’ run to?” Hatter muttered in a lyrical fashion.
“Are you ready now? You see, the real reason I locked you up here, is that I need your co-operation before I can do what is needed to rehabilitate you.” He said, ignoring the lyrics.

Hatter slowly clanked his chains, raising his head to focus his eyes on the stallion.
“I am going to place down a form, and a quill. Then I am going to remove your horn binder, and you are going to sign it. If you try to do anything stupid, you will be locked up in here for another month.”

Hatter did not respond, letting his head lower again. Count Patagium moved over and removed the horn binder. Hatter could have stabbed him in the eye with the end of the quill, but he did not feel up to it. His horn glowed, picking the quill up as he scribbled his signature across the bottom of the page, not even bothering to read it. Count Patagium could do whatever he wanted, Hatter was beyond caring.

“Good boy.” The Count complimented him, the words loosing all meaning before they even reached his ear. His horn binder was removed, and then his chains clattered to the floor. Hatter looked at the marks where his hair had been flatted over a month. He rubbed at them to get the soreness to stop, then he attempted to step forward and landed on his face.

Patagium chuckled softly, before speaking like an encouraging parent “Silly Stallion, you need to take things slow before you hurt yourself.”
Hatter growled softly, but suddenly had a ring gag forced into his mouth.

“Bad boy, don’t growl at me. You won’t get a bath if you are not a good boy.”
Hatter fell silent, letting his hateful eyes do all the talking as he fixed them onto the other stallion.
“Now I need to get you looking the part, I need to show you off to the rest of the castle.”

Before Hatter could make any kind of noises to get his disapproval across, he had a bright red collar slapped onto his neck. It was padded, but Patagium moved behind him and tightened it so that it would bite whenever he swallowed, but not being enough to choke him.

“Do you understand, that paper you signed means I own you. That collar means that I own you. You, are mine.” He growled out, locking a metal chain leash onto the collar. Then he was led through the whole castle, he had been stripped of his jacket and hat at the start of this ordinal, so he was more naked then normal, he was filthy after a month of being locked up…

Oh, and he was collared and chained to Patagium’s hoof. He got looks from most of the ponies that did not know him, and glares from some of those that knew him for his crimes. His face burned a bright crimson through the whole trip. He was a famous criminal, and he had just been brought down by a bunch of guards.

Count led him into the royal bathroom, Hatter had missed most of the castle because he had kept his head lowered, but even he had to raise it at the sight of the amazing architecture. The ceiling was taller then any other room he had seen in the castle, easily tall enough to fit ten Hatter’s in, one on top of the other.

The room was dominated by a huge golden bath tub sank into the floor, right in the middle of the room. At one end of this there was a pair of giant golden taps, which looked big enough for him to get his hoof inside.

Or another part of his body.

God. He had gone without sex for far too long, even taps were starting to look seductive. He tossed a glance around the rest of the room, looking for a weapon. There was a pair of massage beds, and what looked like a small steam room. The only thing he could see that looked even slightly useful as a weapon was a hoof file, maybe he could file Count’s face off.

The Count tugged him over to the massage table, picking a pink bottle of bubble bath from off a shelf placed against the side wall.
“The Spa pony is off today, so I need to do all this myself. You are lucky I feel bad for locking you up.” He said, turning the hot tap on as he emptied half the bottle into the water.

Hatter stared into the water as it slowly climbed up the polished bronze tub, getting almost high enough to drown in. Hatter struggled to take a bath in a normal tub, but this tub was far from a normal tub, and suddenly he was having a flash back.

Hatter was ten years younger, around twenty five. He had stopped counting his birthdays some time ago, so it was the closet guess he could make. He was out foraging for food again. What little money he could scrape together went towards feeding his daughter proper food and saving for her to go to collage and universtiy. She wanted to be a Doctor, and he was so proud of her. It did not matter if he had to go hungry to feed her dreams.

Ponies used to be able to surive off grass alone, but now eating just that alone would make you ill. So he was up a widing path searching for berries to eat. The extra nutrition would help keep him going in peak peformance

He was halfway up a winding path that curved around a pond at the bottom. It must have been an old coal quarry or somthing, as the path had been carved by pony hooves. The blackberry bushes that now curved around the path made it far more narrow and dangerous.
Thankfully, he still had his trusty jacket. The brambles were unable to cut through the thick fabric. He had a pair of saddle bags filled with berries, which made the risk acceptable. No other ponies had been able to get up here to harvest them.

He scrambled up higher, wobbling on the path as he stuggled to pick the last of the berries. The mud was slippy, the slate around the edge was even slippeyer. He really did not want to spend longer up here then he had to.

It had been raining just hours before, so the mud was sucking at his hooves, any part of him not covered by his jacket was being chilled either by the mud or the cold air, and he was shaking softly. He wanted to get back to his home, put some logs in his fire, and cook these berries into tasty goup.

He did not know exactly what went wrong, even to this day. But one moment he was picking berries, and the next his rear hoof had slipped back. His other hoof was shakey and gave out, his back end slipping off the edge of the cliff as he gave a yell. His other hoof shot forward, attemting to grab onto a bramble before the rest of his body followed.

But he was not going to be that lucky. His hoof was slippy and so was the bramble, it managed to stall him for about a second. Then the throns scraped past his hoof, sending him plumeting towards the pool beneath as he screamed.

As if that was not bad enough, his rear legs smashed off one of the outcrops as he fell, turning him upside down and knocking his hat off. His back scraped down the cliff, tearing through his jacket at ripping at the flesh beneath. Just when he thought it could not get any worse, he hit the water. Head first.

He was stunned from the impact, and by the time his brain came back online, he had sunk near to the bottom of the pool. The cold water had made him go into shock, and he had about twenty more seconds before the shock forced the air from his lungs and filled them with water. He would pass out in agony two minutes later, and die shortly after that.

So, he had twenty seconds, he could not swim, his legs were injured, and he was now almost at the bottom of the pool. He was going to drown and never see his daugher again. She was going to go into foster care, and those bastards were going to raise her. The whole reason he was going through the hell was to stop that from happening, and he was not going to die now.

He begin to struggle rappidly, trying to pull himself towards the surface. Agony tore into his hindlegs, he ignored it. Agony tore into his lungs, and he ignored that too. He gave every ounce of strenth he had, ignoring the water trying to freeze his bones.

His hindlegs bumped against the bottom of the pond. Flailing about like a fish on land had not moved him towards the surface. His mind screamed at him, adreinaline burned its way through him, and it still was not enough to move him. He did not want to die. That thought kept repeating in his head, but that was what was going to happen, and nothing he could do about it would save him.

And then something was pulling him from the water. He could not turn his head to see who it was, but he could feel a hoof wrapped around his middle, and the water rushing past as powerful muscles pulled them towards the surface. He did not really care who this pony was, as they had likely just saved his life.

His head surfaced and he begin to pull in deep gulps of air, clinging to pony that had saved him. She… She was pretty. No, she was not just pretty, she was the most beautiful pony Hatter had ever set eyes on. Her red mane and tail matched her pure white fur per-

“You OK?” The mare cut him off with a voice like honey. He could listen to her talk all day. The mare shook him softly.
“Hon? Are you OK? I need to offer you a deal.”

Hatter shook his head to clear his thoughts “A deal? What kind of deal?” He muttered, sill in shock.
“A deal for your life, hon.” She said, bobbing calmly in the water.
“My life? But you just saved that!”
The pretty mare gave a giggle “Silly, I’m a demon. You have to trade something for your life,” Her voice suddenly turned dark “Or I will have to put you back beneath the water.”

Hatter suddenly did not like this mare as much as he first had. But he went straight to the point. Meeting a demon was odd, but she had saved his life, and he did not want to risk going back beneath the water.
“What is it you want?”
“I just want you to accept something off me, and to spend some time with you.”
Hatter frowned “What kind of something?” He was clinging tight to her body, and staring deep into the red pools that were her eyes.

Hatter was suddenly back in the present, a voice he recognised as his own was screaming “No! No!” And he had backed into a wall. Patagium was staring at him in shock as he broke down. He hated water: There was no way he was going in that bath.

The Count moved over, then bent down and… Hugged him?
“Shh, Hatter. Are you scared of the water?” He asked, rubbing his back slowly. Hatter nodded slowly, ashamed to admit that he was scared of water. He had no idea why he was being so open with the Count, but he suspected it was something to do with the fact he had been locked up for a month.

“Oh… I see. How about this, you have a bath, and I will let you use one of the special treatments. I think you like girly things like that.”
Hatter was going to argue, but once again being chained up had really done a number on him. It really was surprising how well that had worked for the Count.

He was guided by a hoof to the bathtub, slowly stepping into the bubbly water. He gave a soft cry of shock as the warm water went up to his neck. He clung tightly to the Count’s hoof, letting the panic slowly settle out of him. The warm water was the perfect temperature.

Several seconds passed before Hatter finally relaxed, realizing that there was no way he would be able to drown in the water. He softly splashed at the bubbles, then stepped away from Patagium, enjoying the water.

After he had finished washing himself, Hatter placed both his fore hooves on the edge of the metal tub and spoke softly.
“Can I have the use of my horn please?”
Count Patagium frowned at him for several moments, but slowly nodded, unlocking the horn binder. Hatter slowly lit up his horn, struggling to use magic after such a long time. But he still managed to float over the hoof file.

Then he begin to file his hooves, stepping out the bath and doing them while the enamel was still soft from the bath. Then he floated over several hoof care products and begin applying them to his hooves.

Patagium watched with a bemused smile, chuckling out “I knew you were a sissy, but really? Even I failed to see this coming. I’m impressed. But unfortunately, I have something to confess.”
Hatter gave a long drawn out sigh, really sick with all the stuff that had happened today.
“What is it this time?”
Count Patagium gave a bone chilling chuckle “You are not going to be our sex slave straight away, you will be spending a few weeks training in the castle guard to toughen you up, then we will declare you insane and say that you are being treated.”
Just when he thought things could not possibly get worse.

Chapter 2

Count Patagium had just thrown Hatter out into the guard barracks to be taken care of. If Hatter had not committed such terrible acts, he might have felt sorry for him. But Hatter had committed acts that would normally end in execution, so spending a few weeks locked in a cell before getting thrown around by the guard for a few more weeks was a kindness. Maybe he would even become a productive member of society.

He sighed, opening the door to his personal chambers and stepping inside. He did not really go for all the posh things most ponies would expect for someone of his social standing, his room was a simple affair. It had a big king sized bed, a simple wooden night stand, and several other simply decorated objects that were promptly forgotten about when he saw the only beautiful thing he really needed.

His wife was lying across the length of his bed, her bat wings tucked in tight to her well groomed purple coat. Her dark blue and pink swirled mane was draped over one eye, the other rose coloured eye was fixing him with the deepest bedroom eyes a mare could give, and he could already feel blood rushing to his groin.

“Long day at work?” She asked, looking up and down his body in a seductive fashion.
“Like you would no believe,” He said with a sigh, sitting next to her on the bed “But I already feel better now you are here Cinny.”
Cinnamon smiled and hugged him tightly, rubbing his back “Come on, lie down for me so I can help get all the tension out of your body.” She giggled, making Count give a sly grin, lying down on his belly with a smile.

Cinnamon moved over and begin to softly rub at his shoulder blades, digging her hooves in softly to ease the tension from his overworked muscles. Patagium let out a contented sigh as his body slowly relaxed, letting all the tension slowly drain from his body. “Oh… I feel so much better already.” He moaned pleasurably, his leg twitching softly.

Cinnamon gave a soft chuckle, leaning down to his ear and nibbling the tip of it roughly “Oh, I have something in mind that will make you feel even better.” She said, and Count felt the blood that had reached his groin try to escape. His shaft suddenly throbbed against the red silk sheets, making a shudder rock down his spine.

Cinnamon moved onto his back, wrapping her hooves around his neck softly, beginning to slowly grind her cunt against the base of his tail, her warm juices dribbling down his flank slowly. He groaned in pleasure and pressed his flank back against her dripping snatch. “Co-come on, don’t tease me.” He moaned, his shaft throbbing softly. Cinnamon grinned, nibbling at his neck as she slowly rubbed her way up his back, smearing her juices along it.

Count had finally had enough of the teasing and turned suddenly, flipping Cinnamon onto his belly rather suddenly. She gave a yelp of shock as she was suddenly faced with his hard, throbbing horse shaft. Count chuckled, attempting to lift her up with his forehooves unsuccessfully. She smiled and slowly raised her rear over his shaft, watching as a string of her juices slowly dribble onto his shaft, making it throb pleasurably as it rolled down his shaft.

“Don’t be impatient, say you want me~” Cinnamon teased, rubbing her cunt over the head of his shaft, forcing a groan from him as his hooves moved, gripping roughly at her sides.
“I want you.” He moaned, before suddenly and forcefully pulling her down onto his shaft.
She gave a squeal, her back arching as pleasure tore through her body in waves. She was now straddling him in a reverse cow-mare position as Count found his strength, pressing his hooves beneath her wings and lifting her up.

She fixed him with a lust heated gaze as his cock slipped out of her, knowing what was coming next. He let go and she dropped down fast, smashing into his groin with a loud moan that was only halfway done before he picked her up again, letting gravity do most of the work in driving his beloved towards orgasm. She cried out with each smack, Count making sure not to hurt her by using his hooves to guide her over each inch of his thick fuckmeat.

Her cunt clenched down hard, squeezing his cock tightly as he fucked her, now thrusting his hips up to meet her on the way down. The loud smacking of their hips filled the room as Count’s groans raised in volume slowly.

Finally, he pushed her off his crotch and onto the bed, her wings tucked tightly beneath her as he roughly rubbed at her clit, knowing that this was the best way to get her off. Her hooves reached up and hooked firmly around his neck, the batpony alicorn grinding her soaking cunt against his hoof roughly. She could feel the bliss building inside her, each rub like a drop of water behind a dam.

It built faster and faster as her humping became more erratic. Soon the dam felt like it was going to burst. Her moans became pleasured squeaks, barely managing to string together enough words for a strained sentence.
“I-I’m going to cum Count!”

And then his hoof moved away, making her cry out in need. Count gave a confident smirk as he stroked his length rapidly, pulling her back towards his groin and lifting her over it. He looked deep into her eyes as his shaft throbbed rapidly.
She knew what was coming next, and so did he.

And then he dropped her.

And she screamed.

And then the dam burst.

Her eyes fluttered, her body convulsed and Count cried out beneath her as he hammered his cock upwards, each thrust bringing a large spurt of cum from it, which was then pounded deep into her. Cinnamon’s cunt convulsed roughly as it milked the cum from his cock, attempting to pull it all into her womb where it belonged.

The convulsions that were tearing through her body slowly became twitches, working down from her orgasmic high. She rolled to the side with a happy whimper, her cunt slipping off his limping member with a wet squelch.

She flopped down next to him and gave a sigh, feeling Count’s warm cum leaking from out of her tingly cunt. She felt warm, fuzzy and happy all over. Patagium leaned over and pulled her close. She gave a smile ad nuzzled into the warm fluff of his chest as she basked in the warmth of her afterglow.

Count might have been stressed a few minutes ago, but now all that stress had left him. Cinnamon wrapped her soft leathery wings around him, and soon the two lovers had drifted into a deep sleep.