I am in a bar, and as I leave the smoke and the noise, I decide I should
use the ladies room, not the one for men. I am dressed like a man, but suddenly
I have this impulse to do what seems right in my feminine mood!
Dreams seem to be so carefree. This seems like a good dream, because there
is nobody in the ladies room. I smile and pause to look around this heavenly
room. Heavenly? Yes! To an ordinary woman, it is nothing. But to someone
like me, the chance to be in this secret feminine place is very thrilling.
There is a large pretty mirror over the twin sinks. There are bulb-lamps
all around it, like a theatrical mirror. "This is where the girls powder
their noses and check their make-up," I think to myself.
When I look in the mirror, there is nobody there. I think there must be
something wrong with these bulb-lamps.
But it is now that my dream becomes a nightmare. It must be, when you
are restless in sleep, that something triggers this. I knew I was not supposed
to be in the ladies room, even in this dream. Now I punish myself for it.
Instead of going into a stall and being safe, and enjoying the dainty
habit of peeing sitting down, I can't keep myself from exploring the room.
Like a somnambulist, I find myself doing a tango against the walls, studying
every inch of the tile. Why am I doing this? What do I hope to see in the
tile? Why can't I stop?
Now I stand in front of a machine that dispenses tampons. I suddenly have
a purse in my hand, and I rummage for a quarter.
"Oh, that time of month," says a friendly voice. Only when I
turn around, it is an angry woman, coarse and heavy, in red boots and a
plain black peasant's dress. She has a scarf tied around her head and tightly
knotted under her thick chin.
"I was just leaving," I say.
I try to get to the door, but it's as if I'm swimming. I can't get there
fast enough. She has me, she has me bent over like she's going to spank
me. I'm struggling with her, but my pants are down. She begins to curse
and say something about how I'm wearing women's panties. My panties are
off now. Somehow she is spreading my legs as I try to free myself. I am
in her lap, legs spread outrageously.
"This is where you put in a tampon," she says. She hasn't even
unwrapped it. I wonder if she knows how to use one of these at all. I wonder
if she is a man. The tampon doesn't hurt at all. It goes right in. This
angers her, and so she takes the other four from the box. She has them in
her fist, like a handful of pencils.
My mouth gags open as she pushes it all in, the tampons and her fist.
Now she pulls her fist out, and the tampons stay. I can see this from
the perspective of a third party. I can peer between my legs and see that
my hole has been widened and all five of these tampons are all in me, each
sticking out just an inch.
My muscles try and push to get them out, but they are stuck in there.
It feels like I have to really go to the bathroom badly, and I begin to
whimper about this, and try and struggle off her lap and to the toilet.
If I don't eject them all, I fear, something terrible will happen. Maybe
they'll all get lost inside me!
Now I'm on my feet, only bent forward slightly because of the pressure
and pain of being so widened and so filled. I stagger a few steps forward...toward
her! How did she get in front of me?
She stares me in the eyes, and as she does, she reaches down. "Feel me as I start pulling
the tampon string! You've got a tampon string sticking out, honey."
She's pulling on my penis. We both know it's not a tampon string. She
dares me to do anything about it. I try to meet her gaze and not cry out.
Suddenly she begins to backslap me. Over and over, spitting and cursing.
It doesn't hurt me, but it shames me. When I think that I have absorbed
enough slaps for it to seem like I should collapse, I do. I play-act falling
to the ground.
I seem to have fallen into a shower stall. I can look down and see myself,
naked, curled into a ball. The water is turned on, and it is very hot. The
hot water and the steam make me uncurl, and stand up straight again.
When I wake up, I somehow think of myself as very healthy, because although
this is a dream that makes me shudder, it did not end badly. It ended with
me standing up straight again.
I told a girl this dream and she said, "Yes, at the end of the dream
you were standing up straight. You had become a tampon."