Tomorrow, the World
Copyright© 2021 by RWMoranUSMCRet
Chapter 1
Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 1 - John Smith becomes Eva the Jew and tumbles back in time from NYU campus in New York City in 2020 to an isolated SS concentration camp in 1944. He is in a female barracks and is subjected to harsh treatment. How can he possibly tell them he is not a Jew and he is not even female because he is certain they will never believe a word he says.
Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Teenagers Coercion Consensual Hypnosis NonConsensual BiSexual Heterosexual TransGender Fiction Historical Horror War Zoophilia Time Travel Body Swap Humiliation Rough Torture Group Sex Anal Sex Analingus Bestiality Masturbation Oral Sex Doctor/Nurse Transformation Violence
Now, that I am back in the present, I remember my journey into the past with horror and fascination thinking about the pain and the friends I had made along the way and the enemies I had hated with the full passion of the oppressed.
Let me begin at the exact moment I realized that I had been yanked out of my stupor of normalcy and thrust back into a violent past like a puppet on a string with nothing to say in the matter.
I knew that I was under a lot of pressure at the time. Tomorrow was final exam day for two of my most important subjects at the university and I had been remiss in studying for the finals due to the welcomed demands of my girlfriend Veronica for sex, sex, and more sex at the cost of my studies which now seemed far less important to my nineteen year old brain which deferred to my lust-ridden cock that gave me orders I found impossible to refuse.
In the chaos of the moment, I was fully inserted into Veronica’s feminine folds from behind with my happy dick swimming frantically in her puddle of female juices when I had a sense of hearing loss and my other senses shut down with a finality that I had never experienced before. My sudden conscious thought was that I had died and was traveling down a long dimly lit tunnel toward a shining light in the distance that seemed out of reach but still was growing nearer with each passing second.
It all seemed like déjà vu now as I looked back but at that moment the light as real and my dick was still experiencing delights I had never considered as even remotely possible.
I remembered shouting Veronica’s name out loud, “Veronica, Veronica, take it nice, baby!”
Then, I tumbled out onto an old-fashioned cobblestoned platform and all I was wearing was a silly striped pair of pajamas that looked faintly like a uniform of sorts. Veronica was nowhere to be seen and I was surrounded by a group of similarly clad females all crying tearfully moaning about their bruises and cuts from the fall. When I looked down at my body, I was shocked to see that I was now inside a female body with boobs and a hairy cunt just like the other girls around me.
I had a moment of panic as I lamented the loss of my happy dick right at the start of my adventures in life. Adventures that might involve numerous other females like my Veronica in a future of carnal bliss. I imagined that I explored their feminine terrain with my enthusiastic cock always ready to enter the fray with an eagerness of youth. That youth and my ever present masculine determination to chase pussy wherever and whenever I sensed an opportunity at success.
Fortunately, I had landed on my ass which was now well-padded in my new role as a female teenager dressed in the silly striped pajamas and no shoes or undies to make like a little easier for my newfound female body.
The girls around me were jabbering away in a foreign language which I instinctively knew was German and I joined in with them in using the same language as if I were born using that language from birth. At the time, I didn’t question this novel development because my brain was geared to think in German, and it all seemed quite normal to me in my new status as a female. In fact, I don’t think that I questioned the circumstances at that time because I held this fantastic belief in the back of my brain that I was merely dreaming, and I would wake up soon as a teenage boy and speaking English just like almost everyone else at NYU.
I should interject here that I was born in the Bronx, shortly before the fall of the Twin Towers and that my father was one of the victims as he never made it out of the first building before it collapsed into a pile of rubble. We never got any DNA evidence confirming our loss but that was the case in several cases and was not in the least bit unusual considering the circumstances. My name is John Smith and most of the time I ignore the people’s reaction to my name as if I were some illegal alien pulling a fast one on the public by manufacturing my name. My mother’s name was Sally Smith until she remarried and now her name is Sally Rivera. Me and my sister kept our Smith name because there was no need to change it unless the new stepfather opted to adopt us kids which he had never considered as a proper course of action and the confusion it would cause administratively. I figured I would have my name until I died but my sister would most likely take her husband’s name because she was not the sort of female to have a feministic approach to such nuances.
The fact that I went to NYU didn’t mean I was Jewish although it had the nickname of NY-Jew ever since I could remember. I went there because it was cheap, and I had a scholarship from the 9-11 debacle that covered all children of the victims. Sure, I was circumcised, but that was a Board of Health issue and not a religious decision for Jewish families. I only mention this because sitting on the cobblestoned railway platform, I knew that I also spoke Yiddish and that the other girls around me were falling into that slang speech with each passing moment. Growing up in a Jewish neighborhood in the Bronx gave me Jewish mannerisms and speech patterns that appeared Jewish in nature and once acquired they were difficult to shed unless one were an exceptionally good actor.
I must admit the barking dogs close by and the uniformed SS guards on the platform left me no doubt that I had been thrown back in time to a place that no sane person would ever want to land into and the shock of changing from a horny male teenager into a pretty female was difficult to accept under any circumstance. I figured I had transported from 2020 to early 1940s in a split second and somehow along the way I had changed from a boy to a girl. I suspected the fact I was swimming in Veronica’s puddle of female juices at the time might have something to do with it and the puppet-master had lost control of the situation during the transport.
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