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The Day The World Turned Upside Down (and The Days After) free porn video
Jacquelina Frank Presents:
The Day the World Turned Upside Down
New York City was in chaos. It had barely been a couple of
years after the September 11th terrorist attacks, and now
there were reports of mayhem in the suburbs. Airplanes
down. Trains derailed in some areas. Houses scorched. All
contact lost with the outside world, save for some clumsy
radio communications.
Into this breach stepped Alan Levy, a 21-year old Jew with
a knack for figuring out what went wrong in any given
disaster. Now, this chap wasn't Orthodox. He didn't keep
kosher, he didn't keep the Sabbath, and he most certainly
didn't walk around with a yarmulke on his head all day. (A
yarmulke, for those not aware of such things, looks rather
like the Pope's cap.) He was more of a Reformer, a Jew of
the activist sort who doesn't mind liberalism (and, in this
case, he thought Islam could use a reform movement).
Alan Levy had lived in the Village for a while. He'd had to
dodge the occasional gay who begged him for sex, but he
didn't mind stepping into the occasional illegal brothel -
err, massage parlor - for a bit of she-male and other
hooker worshipping. Greenwich Village, after all, is a
youngster's neighborhood in a big city, and youngsters have
libido, so, of course, there are massage parlors. Sex,
however, wasn't on Mr. Levy's mind right now.
The Daily News and the Times both had banner headlines
about the "mysterious disaster" that had cut the Big Apple
off from the Internet, left phone lines and other
communications severely hampered, cut off access to
satellites of any kind, and left TV communication
nonexistent outside of the metropolitan area and radio
communication decidedly diminished. Alan bought the Daily
News for fifty cents and the Post for twenty-five. In the
back pages of both papers was a little curiosity concerning
a few antique trains mysteriously showing up at
Harmon/Croton station on the Hudson Line. It seemed like
some pranksters had tried to badger Metro-North into taking
the Twentieth Century Limited's four trains into Grand
Central, and Metro-North had refused. They had sent for
Amtrak, which did the courtesy of hauling the unscheduled
trains into Penn Station. The passengers all dressed in
period clothing from a period from about 1925 to 1940,
hats, dresses, and veils included. The first engineer, Alan
Levy read, had to be taken into custody by the Amtrak
police because he was ranting about how impossible it was
to take a New York Central train into a Pennsylvania
Railroad station.
Alan mulled over this stuff. The Twentieth Century Limited
had finished its last run - some nine hours late - back in
1967, and New York Central Railroad had merged with the
Pennsy not long after that. It had been a disastrous
wedding, and that merger had been a major reason why Amtrak
was created in 1971 - to take over the defunct Penn Central
Railroad (which is what the merged company named itself).
Alan had also seen something off Hudson River Pier 25 -
which had housed a golf club at one time but now had
miniature golf, a lemonade stand, a bicycle rental shop and
summer activities for the folks of New York and visitors -
that was improbable, so improbable that he didn't believe
his own eyes. The object that he saw offshore was the Queen
Mary, three smokestacks, Art Deco styling, and all that and
the Queen Mary, Alan knew, had been gutted long ago and was
now serving as a museum in Long Beach, California. Alan
Levy put two and two together and figured that New York
City and environs had rudely been thrown back in time to
perhaps the Depression era. Ouch. Gee, and you thought the
current economy was bad.
Alan also noticed that his chest was hurting and also felt
lumpy, much to his annoyance. He tucked his papers under
his arm and went down into the subway. Now, New York itself
had remained unchanged through this whole transition - the
world outside had changed. Consequently, the subway maps
were still the same, Ground Zero was still a pit, the
MetLife Building still towered over Grand Central Terminal,
and the cluster of skyscrapers called Co-op City still
mushroomed over the North Bronx. The suburbs and the New
Jersey Turnpike still existed as far as some town called
Jamesburg and some other town called Rossmoor, where the
Turnpike now ended abruptly in a sea of farmland. Various
old-fashioned cars, or so Alan's TV (tuned in to a New York
station) had told him, were now making their way up the New
Jersey Turnpike, and the Homeland Security Emergency Board
(now on Red Alert) had cordoned off a wide area of the Pike
to look for terrorists lurking in this new environment.
And what of our poor Alan? Well, he had swiped his
MetroCard through the slot and boarded the squealing train,
a stainless-steel train with sides that imitated the great
streamliner trains with dome cars of old (although rather
poorly). It presently whisked poor Alan Levy up to the Port
Authority Bus Terminal station, clattering as it went, as
Alan's chest area settled into two large lumps that were
giving his business-casual attire a rather tight squeeze.
Alan figured he might have to go to the hospital, maybe the
New York Hospital or Beth Israel Medical Center. The fact
that two recent cases of the bubonic plague had wound up at
Beth Israel North didn't exactly settle his worried mind,
though. The train stopped, the crowd poured out like grains
of sand from a bucket, and Alan found it tough to keep his
balance. He tried asking someone where the nearest hospital
was, only to find his voice coming out light and squeaky.
To make matters worse, several chaps were now referring to
him as "ma'am".
Upstairs, he took an escalator or two up to the men's room
in the Port Authority - which was somewhat dingy but okay
by NYC public restroom standards - only to find out (by
looking in the mirror) that he was turning into a woman. A
quick look down his underwear in the toilet stalls
confirmed his hypothesis - his penis had declined in size
and width and was rapidly being replaced by a new hole.
Alan's hip was growing wider. Must've been that incident
that threw the Big Apple back into yesteryear, Alan
reckoned.
By the end of the day, Alan figured out he'd need to start
using different restrooms and he'd also need a new
wardrobe. His body didn't fit his current wardrobe. Alan
vaguely wondered how his boss would take his sudden change
of sex. At least, Alan thought, I'm not exactly sick. I'm
not handicapped by this sudden change. I think I'm going to
live. But I feel queasy about it all, cuz it has never
happened to anyone I knew before this weirdness started
showing up. So, now what do I do?
Alan bought some new clothes at one of the posh Fifth Ave.
stores - he'd saved up for shopping, but he figured that
he'd splurge the money on hockey and skateboarding
equipment, but this sudden change in sex had led to a
sudden change in plans. Anyway, in short order, he retired
to his apartment, dressed up in posh Giovanni Versace garb,
went up to the offices of the Times and the Daily News, and
greeted the secretaries thusly:
"Hi, I'm Alice Levy. I have a story to tell, and I know why
the Queen Mary sailed into port this morning. See, we've
gone back in time, the whole fucking city has become a time
machine!"
Now, the media had already deduced this for themselves, and
newspaper purchases in Philadelphia revealed that New York
had been hurled back into the year 1936. What was
newsworthy was the sudden (and spontaneous) sex change of
Alan (now Alice) Levy, which (s)he blurted out loud before
realizing that (s)he was saying it. In consequence, Alice
Levy had now outed herself. In the midst of a disaster,
Alice Levy quickly became the centerpiece of a media
frenzy. This wasn't necessarily a good thing.
Conservatives, for example, attempted to pelt Alice with
eggs and rocks, calling her "unnatural", "damned shemale",
and "faggot", by the end of the day. Alice also had to
dodge an attempted sexual assault by the idiots of Central
Park, which weren't about to give up their wilding just
because the city had happened to go back in time. However,
once back in the Village, Alice became a local celebrity,
with transsexuals of all stripes and sorts asking Alice
what her secret was. Alice (quite rightly) protested that
she had done nothing, and this led to more curiosity and
cheers.
As night fell over the Big Apple, the President's motorcade
came into town. This President wasn't Dubya Bush, and he
didn't even stand upright. Instead, it was a very curious
Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who was very curious about the
sudden changes that Manhattan had undergone overnight. From
his own reports, crashes had occurred and flyovers had
revealed two things: a tendency to get into dogfights with
Homeland Security patrol jets (identified in FDR's report
as "mysterious flying objects"), and a slew of new
skyscrapers in Manhattan, especially Midtown. Flyovers had
also revealed numerous new highways and vast new
territories with houses all over them. It was only when J.
Edgar Hoover's folks had bought a newspaper in Jersey City
that the President realized that the metropolitan area was
from the future. At least, that was the simplest
explanation that Roosevelt's men could come up with.
The Days After the Day the World Turned Upside Down
"Attention. This is your mayor speaking. We are advising
you to remain calm and go about your normal business. True,
we have been blown back into the thirties, but this should
be no cause for alarm. At least we know the dangers of this
age and we know how to deal with them."
Alice groaned as Mayor Mike Bloomberg's voice filtered
through the dawn window into the sun-dappled room where
Alice was in bed, rubbing her hand between her legs. When
she was Alan Levy, she had fooled around with herself in
bed, and now that she was a woman, she wasn't about to
stop.
The groan, however, had nothing to do with Alice Levy's
artful hand. Rather, it was because she was annoyed with
the maverick mayor's habits and occasional grandstanding.
Bloomberg, see, had been elected on Giuliani's coattails
after 9/11, largely on account of Giuliani's adventurous
survival of the attacks that totaled the World Trade
Center. He had courted no important lobbies, and he had run
on his own money. He rode the subway to work every morning,
and he refused to live in Gracie Mansion, the mayors'
official residence, preferring his townhouse instead. Now,
here this idiot was, giving the folks of Greenwich Village
an earful through a loudspeaker.
Alice sat up, took a towel and a brush, got into the
shower, showered, dried herself, and then reached for the
soap and the shaving cream. She was about to put the razor
to her face when she realized that she was no longer a guy,
and that her facial hair had fallen out in the night, and
thus there would be no point to using a razor on her face.
Of course, this led to a panicked response of "getting this
gunk off my face", as Alice was later to complain to a
friend.
Alice then put her clothes on: a pair of jeans and a dark
T-shirt, as well as boxers. (Alice had only bought one
Versace outfit and no other feminine stuff after her
embarrassing sex change the day before. Consequently, she
had no choice but to wear the clothes of a man.) She then
tromped downstairs, only to hear the roar of motors
overhead and she looked up, and saw a great gray Beast with
swastikas on the tail. Nazi swastikas. Hateful Nazi
swastikas that had nothing to do with their peaceful
Buddhist cousins that occasionally showed up in Chinatown.
The Beast bearing them was the Hindenburg, a mighty
zeppelin that met its doom in 1937 - would meet its doom,
Alice reminded herself. For the moment, the airship muscled
its way towards Lakehurst (which was apparently unaffected
by the transition of time periods).
Alice remained looking up for several minutes, coming back
to earth only when the zeppelin disappeared from view. The
zeppelin's dragon roar had brought to Alice a sense that
anything was possible, and it also served her a warning
that Osama bin Laden wasn't the main enemy to look out for
anymore. Adolf Hitler was. Alice Levy wasn't religious, but
she was Jewish all the same, and she felt that she had to
do something about this menace. After all, we had been
thrown into the past, right? We've already changed the past
in some small ways, right? We might as well try to correct
history's mistakes, right?
Alice remembered a visit she'd once paid to the Anne Frank
Center in the Soho district. Very helpful people, but Alice
already knew a lot about Anne Frank, a famous Holocaust
victim, born in 1929, died in 1945 in the filthy camp at
Belsen, wrote a diary in the 1940s that became a classic of
literature. Nonetheless, the folks at the Center knew a lot
about the Holocaust, and they had potential as a resource
on how to drum up crap about Hitler. Alice found the Anne
Frank Center all right, and it was open, but her bouncing
new breasts showed too obviously through her T-shirt (and
was screwing up the way she walked by adding inertia).
Thus, Alice Levy's first footfall in the Anne Frank Center
was a crash onto the floor, followed by a string of curses
under her breath.
The lady at the entrance asked Alice, "Are you all right,
ma'am? You're not drunk or nothing, are you?"
Alice laughed and said no, she wasn't drunk, she was
possessed by Jar Jar Binks. This brought on laughter from
various staff members, relieving the tension. In rapid
succession, Alice spoke her mind.
"We are back in the 1930s, folks. Think about it. Hitler is
still skulking in Berlin, waiting to lash out. Anne Frank
is still in an apartment in Amsterdam. Six million Jews
have yet to fall under the Nazi noose. We have a chance to
save them. Why not exploit that chance?"
Alice waited for the words to soak in, and then one chap
spoke up. "Hmm, you've got a point. We ought to call up the
Anne Frank Foundation - no, wait a minute. If Anne isn't
dead yet, and is still an ordinary girl in Holland, then
there would be no Anne Frank Foundation. Okay, new plan. We
call up the rabbis and civic leaders, and we drum up
opposition to Hitler through a mass movement in New York
City designed to catch President Roosevelt's attention, and
we help pressure the nations of Europe to force Hitler to
step down."
A woman in the back of the room pointed out that maybe the
Anne Frank Center should change its name, on the grounds
that if Anne Frank were to find out about the center, she'd
be puzzled by the whole affair and maybe shy away from
journal-writing, thus screwing up the history books big-
time. Alice Levy seconded this motion, even though she
wasn't part of the Center staff, and it was only a matter
of time before the Anne Frank Center renamed itself the
Anti-Genocide Center. (At the same time, the renamed center
began a half-hearted search for Anne Frank herself. The
center staff eventually found her, and showed her around
NYC, but that's another story.)
Her mission accomplished, Alice sashayed out the door (she
was starting to enjoy her new sex) and trundled down the
street. Suddenly she felt all hot and sweaty. Her boxers
soon felt rather wet. Alice ducked into a park restroom
after walking several blocks to find one (no easy task in
the Big Apple, even though parks generally do have
restrooms, you still have to get to the parks) and lowered
her boxers, her face having wrinkled in disgust since she
felt hot and sweaty. By now, her penis had entirely
vanished, and blood was all over her boxers (the middle
part, anyway). Alice grumbled. A period? Now?
Since Alice had never menstruated before, on account of
having been a guy until the recent occurrences, she hardly
knew what to expect and when to expect it. Alice knew what
a period was, as her mom often complained before having
them, but Alice had always thought of periods as something
alien. Something not her. Something no transsexual had
wound up with until Alice Levy had come along, because
doctors had yet to find a way to make ovaries and uteruses.
Alice realized sickingly that she could use help from
another girl just about now.
Alice found an old friend named Lianna who lived across the
street from her. Lianna informed Alice Levy that she had,
indeed, had a period, and Lianna pointed out certain Jewish
laws that required women to bathe in a religious bath,
called a mikvah, upon having those periods. The women,
according to those laws, were supposed to wait seven days
without having sex, and then immerse themselves completely
- leaving no part uncovered - after nightfall.
Alice groaned. While Lianna wasn't Jewish, she was
interested in many religions, and so she thought Alice
could use some hints on Jewish practices related to
menstruation. Lianna didn't know that Alice wasn't Orthodox
or even Conservative and thus hardly cared about such
ritual niceties as the mikvah. Lianna also informed Alice
about the efficiency of using a bra, as well as "proper"
feminine attires and attitudes. (Apparently, Lianna thought
Alice to be rather brash and tomboyish in her attitudes and
manners, which was only natural, since Alice was once Alan,
and Lianna had never been a male.)
Alice and Lianna had a fun time playing dress-up with each
other, even though Alice felt nervous about doing something
so feminine when she hadn't grown up female. Alice learned
the art of using lipstick and eye shadow for the first
time, a feat accompanied by much giggling.
Alice and Lianna headed to dinner with each other. Amid all
this fun, Alice wondered, what am I doing to further tikkun
olam, the art of repairing the world? How can I make it
better? America is now in the Depression. If history holds
the same, the Depression will lead to World War II. The war
will bring the USA out of the Depression. Might there not
be a better way to bring the USA out of the Depression than
by way of war? But what would be politically acceptable in
this culture, if not war? Those nagging doubts hid in the
back of Alice's mind through dinner and the next few days.
During that time period, after the railroads were fixed and
the roads realigned to match each other, millions of
tourists and curiosity seekers crowded the roads into New
York to see the Marvelous City from Tomorrow, as the local
Chamber of Commerce had taken to nicknaming the city. True,
this was before there was even a Trylon or a Perisphere or
a 1939 World's Fair to fit them in, but in this New York
City that had thundered with a crash from heaven, there
were microwave ovens, superhighways, color TV sets, nuclear
reactors (the one in upstate New York had come in along
with the city, much to several anti-nuclear protesters'
chagrin), the Bomb, the hokey temporary September 11th
memorial fence at Ground Zero, computers and a New York Net
(a kind of Internet serving the NY metro area that was
cobbled together in the days after transition; the name was
changed after the New Jersey Nets sued for trademark
infringement to Gothamnet), and other latter-day marvels
that 1930s humans could only dream of.
The curious swamped Newark Airport to see demonstrations of
jetliners and military jets, and they passed through
Homeland Security in order to get to the planes. (Just
because NYC was in yesteryear didn't mean NYC had to give
up common sense! The city still had terrorists to worry
about, even if they were now more Nazi than Arabic.) Those
1930s folks came from Philadelphia and Los Angeles and
London and Berlin and Shanghai and Mexico City to see such
novelties as urban sprawl, suburbs, strip malls, vast
parking lots, edge cities such as Metropark, ruined
factories, stocky-looking cruise ships, International Style
architecture, a New York City full of buses rather than
trolleys, traffic jams that took up six lanes abreast, and
Amtrak bullet trains (which still managed to find some way
into the Pennsylvania Railroad schedule to run all the way
to Washington as high speed trains).
New York was deluged with ocean liners and railroad trains,
prompting severe alterations and delays in the railroad
schedules. (Many of the ocean liners were rerouted into
Elizabeth Seaport in New Jersey, along with cargo ships,
etc. The finger piers along the riverbanks, alas, were long
gone; the best New York could do was shunt the ships into
New Jersey.) The airports suffered a dramatic drop in
revenue passenger service to other cities, mostly on
account of other airports not having long enough runways to
accommodate Boeing 757s, let alone Boeing 747s. Commercial
aviation was still taking baby steps in the 1930s.
Alice Levy, meanwhile, reveled in this newfound curiosity
from the outside world, and she became ever more friendly
towards her dear friend Lianna. Both Alice and Lianna had
become urban planning students at the Wagner school at NYU
before the metropolitan area suffered a sudden trip into
the past, and they still engaged in their studies.
Late in the afternoon - in the evening, really - Alice and
Lianna sat, talking about how the price of organic and
other foods had risen lately, while prices of some other
stuff had gone down, and whether or not it was politically
correct to adopt 1930s pre-women's lib clothing simply
because the entire town was now in the 1930s, when Lianna
reached up to Alice. Alice took Lianna's hands, and she
held them in an elegant gesture that seemed to say, "My
future is also your future: My promise is also your
promise: My Goddess is also your Goddess: We are forever
one", and Lianna came closer to Alice's face.
The two embraced, then moved over to the couch in Lianna's
apartment, and soon were hugging and kissing with a passion
that neither Lianna nor Alice had known before, even when
dating past romances of the opposite sex. Clothes flew off;
breasts were exposed; moaning rose to the heavens, and both
Alice and Lianna had messy orgasms together. When all was
said and done, Alice and Lianna realized that they were in
love with each other, just like Ellen Degeneres was in love
with another actress once upon a time. It was an ecstatic
and joyful feeling; an air of playfulness was all around
this newborn couple. As for the women's lesbianism, they
could care less. This was Greenwich Village, after all, who
gave a fuck if your neighbor was gay, so long as he didn't
hit on you once every few weeks!
The morning after that adventure wasn't as delicious. A
member of the German-American Bund had teamed up with a
couple of local neo-Nazis to grab the wrists of Alice and
Lianna and snatch them into a nearby tenement, where they
shouted, "Jew faggots! We know you're plotting against the
Aryan master race. Come on, or we'll rape and kill you
both!"
All three villains brandished knives to show they meant
what they said. Lianna got scared and peed in her pants.
Alice nearly came to tears herself - a new experience
because she had, as a guy, gotten into a ferocious rage in
situations like this - and got argumentative with the Nazi
thugs, saying that she would never give up her secrets.
"Rape me, kill me, screw me, I'll still keep my secrets!"
One of the thugs tried to slash Lianna's wrists, but Lianna
gave a kick and sent the knife flying! Alice found an
opening behind her in their temporary prison's clapboard
wall, and both of them crashed through the wall with a
great big thud! Lianna and Alice fled the dungeon with the
bad guys right behind them, and the local police soon saw
the melee. Fortunately for Lianna and Alice, this was no
Kitty Genovese slaying. The cops chased the thugs and
arrested all three of them, and Rikers Island stood to take
on three more residents within a matter of days. (Kitty
Genovese was a woman who was slain in full view of plenty
of folks, who did nothing because they thought someone else
had done something about the murder. Rikers Island is NYC's
premier prison facility.)
Omigod, Alice Levy felt, this was getting so very real for
us, living postmodern lives in 1930s America. We'd better
be more careful with our politics from now on. Alice knew
one more thing after this incident: she was willing to die
for the cause of freedom and fair treatment of humankind
and fortunately for Alice, there were plenty of other New
Yorkers that felt the same way.
At the same time, in the world outside of the Marvelous
City from Tomorrow, there were others who were willing to
die to keep the lower classes "in their place". The Ku Klux
Klan was still active in Dixie country, and folks cast a
wary eye on the Japanese and Chinese out west, in states
like California.
The New York City of the new millennium that had landed in
the 1930s was like a bastion of liberalism in a wilderness
of closed-minded attitudes, and such a situation was
unlikely to remain stable for long. The Kulturkampf was
about to begin in America, and Alice Levy, our transsexual
heroine, was to become a major figure in it.
To Be Continued
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