The men stand around me, all of them with large penises that are all twelve inches long or more. They are impossibly thick, swelling out in the middle and looking almost as hard as granite at the tip.The penis heads are textured like pink and gray veined granite. The shape of the penises remind me of the loaves of bread that are in the window on Sunday morning, the Italian breads that are so swollen around the middle. Sometimes I can't help but feel embarrassed about that when I buy one.

I am being shouted at, called to, laughed at in a harsh and challenging way. It is as if I am a stripper or a whore.

"Show you can take it," someone shouts. They are all saying things like this. Some of them are like animals, and they are growling, and gibbering in strange languages. But I know what it is they say is all the same. I am vulnerable. I am staring at their big things, and they mock my ability to take it.

I am sitting on a little wooden stool, on what could be a wooden stage or platform, and it is now raised several feet so that when I sit, they are at eye level with my crotch. I am a lewd transvestite, in red stockings, red garterbelt, my pubic hair an insanely bright color of reddish-orange.

There is a beer can, and I confidently spread my legs, lean back, and expose myself utterly. My penis and scrotum dangle down, my anus is exposed just below, and with a slight push at just the right angle, I work the beer can into myself, and it miraculously goes halfway inside me.

I pose this way, my head tilted back so that mostly my pale white neck is showing, and my small breasts, and the disgraceful display of my red garterbelt and stockings framing the sight of my degrading penetration.

I feel I must prove myself even more. I am off the wooden stool now, and waddling awkwardly around the platform, bowlegged almost, letting everyone see the metal, glinting aluminum can that is protruding. For a moment I put my hand between my legs, grip the edge of the can, and work it in and out. But I stop, in panic. Am I crazy? I could hurt myself like this! What has gotten into me? I have no self-control.

Now I am on a cot. There is a thin mattress that is very stained; vile stains of yellow and brown. The bedsprings creak. There is smoke in the air. I find it hard to breathe. I find it hard to swallow.

The beer can is gone, leaving behind a huge, gaping cylindrical hole. It is incredible that my rectum has not closed. The men begin to fill it up by masturbating and squirting. Like caulk, the stuff fills up my hole, and some of it is on the edge, and it clings and seems to harden. The hole is now full of a coagulated wad. I am fearful that I will not be able to get any of it out, that I will be like this forever.

I begin to scream and scream. They don't seem to hear me. I think, in my dream logic, it is because most of them are speaking foreign languages. Now I realize I am not screaming at all, because I see myself with a beer can in my mouth, and I am terrified. I am sure that I have lost all my teeth because of these brutes.

I am flailing my arms and legs, but now I am flat on my stomach on the floor, a beer can protruding from my backside. Someone has his foot on it, and is slowly pushing it all the way in. It makes a crushing sound.

Now there is a silver dollar on the sidewalk. I think that is what it is.

I wonder if that was the beer can flattened and now finally on the floor or whether I was being paid a silver dollar.

Days later I see a man, half drunk, walking down the street with a can of beer. A voice inside says, "Beg him to put it in you. Beg him! Bend over and beg!"