The man put you down again and left, returning a short while later with a jar in his hand.
He picked you up and shoved you into the jar, forcing as much as he could inside, before quickly putting the lid on it.
There wasn't even close to enough space inside the jar, so some of you was outside the jar when he put the lid on and was cut off,
while the rest was compressed inside, making you feel an extreme amount of pressure.
The man wiped the part of your soul that was squeezed out off of the jar with a dirty rag, before carrying you over to his stove,
putting you down close to it, exposing you to its intense heat.
You saw him walk off again and could tell that he was gone for longer this time, but were unable to determine how long it had been,
when he picked you up again, took the lid off and pushed something into you, before putting you down on the windowsill.
It still wasn't possible for you to tell how much time passed, but you were certain that it was even longer this time.
It could have been minutes, hours or even days.
The man picked you up again at some point, pulled out the thing he'd put in you,
turned you upside down and started knocking on bottom of the jar, until you fell out, flopping onto the table.
The man looked down at the blue, translucent onahole he'd made out of the strange material he had found.
He picked it up and looked over it. "Feels pretty good."
He pushed a finger into the hole. "Almost feels like the real thing. Let's give it a try."