Manphibians Chapter 1: Collecting Mammals Evan Andrews ©2023
This story is not quite a fan fiction but it's close enough.
As always. I had a slate of faces I imagined while writing this story, and I'll list them at the end of each chapter until we have the full cast. In this case they're guys who've appeared on MTV's The Challenge. Use your own imagination if you don't like my choices. This story should not be taken as a true representation of the sexuality of any of the men in question.
The story depicts males in sci-fi sexual situations with other males, and the odd alien. If this offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.
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Berlin was lovely at night.
Nam had enjoyed a day that matched that night, and he hummed a happy song as he walked home from the club. The only blemish on the night, sadly, was that he walked alone.
There had been this cute little thing that Nam had been enthralled with at the club, but she'd blown him off--seems she liked eggheads better than muscular specimens like himself. Sigh. No accounting for taste. He'd watched her disappear with one of those taproom philosophers, and then, after glancing at his watch, he decided that it was late enough and that he should probably head home. A date with Rosy Palm would have to do for tonight.
Oh well,' Nam thought as he turned off the main drag into a side street. You win some; you lose some.'
Little did he realize, though, that someone else—someone watching him navigate the streets—was thinking much the same thing, just in reverse.
The street was deserted, unusual since Nam really wasn't getting home late late. There really ought to have been more people about, but the stud didn't give it another thought. (His dick was sending urgent messages to his brain.) Sometimes people just had early appointments the next day. Tough for them.
Nam's first appointment wasn't until 1000. Hmm. Maybe he'd indulge in more than a simple jackoff session tonight. A recent girlfriend had introduced the muscle stud to the concept of the prostate massage, and he was still learning all the ways he could double his delights.
Nam, his cock, and his newly discovered prostate were finalizing plans when the stud suddenly noticed that the streetlights were the wrong color. What the hell? A brownout? They had those in the States, not Berlin. And the city government should warn them if... And then Nam noticed his feet weren't touching the pavement anymore either.
"Feck mich," Nam started, but suddenly he found himself violently jerked up into the air. Not just a foot off the pavement, but really up—hundreds of meters up—into the sky over the capital. Somehow he was flying, and flying, quickly, away to the south!
Waving his arms like a drunk bird, Nam looked around. He was enveloped in a ball of reddish light the same color he'd thought the streetlights had been. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Nam forced himself to be calm. He stopped his ineffective flapping and, on opening his eyes again, saw exactly what he was afraid of. Not your 50's sci-fi flying saucer, but something like a Star Trek shuttlecraft hung there in midair, and this was what caught him in what could only be a tractor beam. Fuck, and whoever was inside was quickly reeling Nam up to and then into ship! He was really being abducted!
Bright interior lights hit Nam when he reached the open hatch, momentarily blinding him. Several pairs of strong hands grabbed him and pulled him away from the hatch (which he heard closing behind him.) Nam batted the hands aside and tried to take the fight to his kidnappers (or take as much of the fight as he could fighting blind.)
Predictably, the kidnappers overpowered him and bore him to the floor.
"Get off me, bastards!" he shouted, in German, and then he repeated it in English and finally in Vietnamese—but to no avail.
His bravado simply gave his captors enough time to pull his hands behind his back and cuff his thumbs together. Thumb-cuffs? Who the fuck carried thumb-cuffs!?
Clearly, the same people who also carried five cm high metal collars like the one they forced around his throat.
Fuck,' Nam thought as the collar's locking mechanism snapped shut, This is getting serious.'
The metal collar had no sooner been fastened than the hands that had born him down now hauled him to his feet. Strong hands held his head still, and someone put some sort of drops (they only stung a little) into his eyes. Finally he saw where he was and who had taken him prisoner.
At first glance they looked like men: two arms, two legs, head on top. They wore skintight silvery Lost in Space spacesuits with fully face-shielding helmets over their heads. Nam's first thought was `Fucking American Space Force!', but then he noticed his abductor's hands. They all of them had three fingers, not four, and the suits clung to slenderer bodies than Nam was used to seeing on anyone, let alone American soldiers.
Verdammt!' Nam thought, I'm being abducted by aliens!'
Nam's mind raced through every sensational story he'd ever heard about alien abduction, starting with Barney Hill, and he wasn't comforted. After that first story, accounts just got weirder as the years had passed, and many stories even contradicted one another. He forced the more lurid accounts down and concentrated on what his senses told him here and now. Aliens had him, he admitted, and now he'd just have to play things by ear.
Looking around for the first time, Nam saw he was in a single room craft. A pilot sat at the controls under a wide forward window, through which Nam saw the German countryside zipping past. That, however, left five more aliens to deal with him, their most recent acquisition. Yeah, most recent, because, Nam also saw the half dozen men the aliens had captured previously. All six--young and, Nam supposed, good looking--sat against the wall of the craft or lay on its floor opposite the hatch, and each of them was encased in a red/gold shimmering energy field of some sort. What did the sci-fi shows call them? Stasis fields? Capture fields? Restraint fields? Whatever, there was no way Nam was going to join THAT club without putting up a fight.
The muscular Vietnamese struggled against his captors, until one of them grabbed his collar and pushed a button on it. Immediately the hunk found his body encased in a restraint field of its own and unable to move anything but his head. His captors then drug him over and set him sitting up against the wall next to the men they'd already captured.
"What the hell?" Nam screamed in rage. "Stop this, you bastards! I won't...!"
"Won't" was the last word Nam spoke that evening because one of the aliens knelt down beside him and pressed a "gun" up against his throat. Chastened, Nam quit yelling, but nonetheless he growled. The alien with the gun tilted the hunk's head to one side and made ready to pull the trigger. Nam tensed, but instead of the gun blowing Nam's head off, all it did was to shoot a drug into his throat, a drug that paralyzed his vocal chords. Effectively silencing him. Not that his yelling had accomplished anything.
The aliens then left Nam between two other abductees and joined the pilot in the front of the shuttle. Once the muscle stud had figured out that the restraint field also seemed to have him "glued" in place, he looked at the guys on either side of him. The one on his right, a dark-haired goateed man with a damaged hand, moved his mouth, silently, and then shook his head with a look of sympathy.
Yeah,' Nam thought, wishing he could read lips, I guess we're in this for the long haul.'
The other captives, from what Nam could see of them, were fine specimens of masculinity (something that had Nam's "creepy" sense ramping up,) but otherwise they varied in their appearance. Beyond the dark man was a tall white dude with long honey blond hair. Another white (but deeply tanned) with a trim beard and obvious muscles testing the confines of his shirt lay on the floor alongside a black dude who looked terribly concerned, and another white muscle-stud, taller and more sender than the first. Finally, just to Nam's left sat a second long-haired blond, but shorter than the first with a rounder face. Quite a U.N. of abductees.
`One from column A,' Nam thought, but then he shook his head. He didn't like where that line of thinking led.
And yet that was exactly where Nam's thoughts went. These creatures wouldn't have gone so far out of their way to nab a guy here and a guy there if they were going to do something as simple as eat them. No, and the humans all fit some level of handsome, so Nam's mind raced to next level of lurid. He now imagined the six, seven, of them all being fed into some ET-probe-home anal violation machine.(Nam, in spite of his recent prostate play, had never figured out any logical reason for anal probes—it was just part of the folklore.) Or maybe they would use the men as sources of sperm for breeding a race of alien-human hybrids. (Science, including genetics, was not Nam's strong suit.) But fuck, if even a third of the alien abduction stories were right, then he was—they all were—in for a seriously not-fun time.
Looking again towards the window at the front of the ship, Nam almost lost his bar snacks when he saw the shuttle's impossible acceleration and incredible twisting and turning course through the night. Why? Oh. It became clear why when he got a momentary glimpse of what might have been a military jet, and then another, and another. The shuttle, however, confounded their pursuit and left the air force planes far behind before shooting out over what had to be the Atlantic. Nam wasn't sad not to have been shot down, but fuck! Where were the aliens heading? And why?
An hour later, the ship slowed almost to a stop. It hovered over some mountains—tall, jagged mountains. Or rather, there were tall, jagged mountains in the distance while they skimmed over the flatlands that led up to the peaks.
The local military--of whoever's airspace they were in--had obviously been alerted because jets could be seen flying at a cautious distance around them. The pilot pushed some buttons, sending a shudder through the skin of the craft, and then he made a leisurely turn to the left, leaving the jets still circling the point they'd been before the device had been activated. Some sort of screen, a cloaking device, hid them from the pilots' sight and from the jets' radar. The air force started a search pattern, as the shuttle headed off to the aliens' next appointment.
Confusingly it was nighttime here too—how did that work? It hadn't been midnight yet in Berlin, and if this was the States, then the sun should still be up. Yes? No? Nam was trying to work this out when he noticed that the shuttle was now following a beat-up pickup truck. The driver had clearly seen them (odd, considering those pilots hadn't,) and the truck sped up until it was careening dangerously along a dirt road. The aliens went in pursuit, and since they'd previously outflown fighter jets, Nam was not surprised that they quickly overtook the truck. The shuttle flashed the vehicle with a familiar reddish light, and it stalled, spinning out in the dust and gravel but not rolling over.
The driver immediately bailed and made a brave run for the nearest stand of trees. Brave but futile. Like Nam he was caught in the shuttle's tractor beam and hauled, screaming and yelling, up into the ship. This captive looked like a cowboy—or at least a rancher sort. The flailing cowboy's hat fell off to the side as the aliens gave him the same treatment they had Nam. Trussed up now, collared and helpless in his own restraint field, the cowboy was silenced and then tossed onto the floor by Nam's feet. The new guy tried to fight the restraint field for only a few minutes before looking up sharply at Nam. The muscle stud gave as much of a shrug as he could, meaning `Yeah, we're in the same boat'. It was the only comfort he could offer.
After that, the aliens zipped here and there, this way and that, mostly, Nam thought, in the US and Canada, abducting men. Nam was at first thought that there was some measure of randomness to the aliens' choices, but the more they grabbed, the more Nam was convinced they must have put together a specific stud shopping list—he had no idea how. Whatever.
The aliens' procedure varied not at all from capture to capture. They'd target a solitary man—or follow one until he was alone—whereupon they'd snag him, reel him in, restrain him, silence him, and finally set him with the other captives while they went after their next target.
One male body at a time, the number of abducted men eventually reached twenty. Then, after dropping their cloaking field, the alien pilot played one more game of tag with fighter jets, and the aliens braced themselves. The shuttle shot straight up out of the atmosphere into outer space at an impossible velocity, and Nam almost lost his dinner once again.
Fuck,' Nam thought once his stomach recovered. That is some serious tech!'
Nam wasn't surprised to see the pitch black outside the front window. Of course aliens would take them into outer space. And when the shuttle corrected its course, he was no more surprised by what he saw looming in the night.
`Double fuck,' Nam thought.
It is an established fact that when you find yourself abducted by aliens and being carried inevitably towards their freaking huge mothership there are only two possible reactions: you can take it on the chin like a man or you can freak out like Daffy Duck.
Nam set his jaw, steeling himself against whatever tortures the aliens might have planned for them, but a fair number of his fellow captives chose instead to freak out, or at least to freak out as far as their restraints and chemical gags allowed. The question on the mind of every man still able to think, though, was, `What would aliens need twenty men for?!'
Nam was afraid they were about to find out.
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Yes, I admit to being a longtime watcher of competition elimination shows. What can I say? I have a weakness for male bodies in minimal clothing.
Nam is based on Nam Vo, a contestant on MTV's the Challenge. The men that had been captured prior to Nam are likewise based on hunks that have appeared on the Challenge (or some other like show): Kim Tränka, Rogan O'Connor, Jordan Wisely, Adam King, Joss Mooney, and Sam Lonsdale—all of whom will figure in the action eventually. The cowboy is based on Cohutta Grindstaff.