You tried and tried, but your struggle, frail as it amounted to be, was in vain. Your cock was a beast, a memory brought back from the past and embodied in a conciousess that would accept no bond, no shackle...for now.

You gave up, exhausted, and watched in regret as your sweetheart was consumed. Your cock moved independently of your will, gobbling up the last of Emily's sumptuous buttocks, her smooth thighs, her feminine calves, and her minuscule feet. You braced yourself as her body moved down into your now bulging scrotum. Wiping a tear from your eye in recognition of the unchangeable past behind you, you began to ponder in silence, 'With this bulge...Emily...between my legs, how on Earth, or wherever I am, am I going to walk for a mile...? I want answers, sure, but more than that I just want to get out of here, to have things back the way they were before.' Lifting your head to the skies you cried out, "Why!? Why did it have to be me!?" Alas, not to your surprise, no answer called to you from above. Were it not for the grotesque sac, Emily's tomb, lying between your legs, a growingly detested link to reality, you may have convinced yourself that it had all been a dream. A very strange, and remarkably life-like dream, but nonetheless. And in your mind upon reflection, you wished no more than that were so.

Exhausted from the ordeal and the intense emotions of the past few hours, you collapsed back onto the table, and there you slept, till morning come.