Jonathan and Kohaku are members of Greco-Roman wrestling teams competing at the Olympics when the entire contingent of competitors is abducted by aliens. In the face of a common adversary experimenting on them, the group forms a new hierarchical social construct akin to a tribe.
As time passes, they notice subtle changes in their bodies. Finally, communication with their captors is established, and the men learn the aliens intended to release them as the dominant lifeform on a planet they’ve been terraforming.
The changes to their bodies were to prepare them for their new environment, and to enable them to reproduce. The aliens had mistakenly interpreted the Olympics as a grand mating ritual, and only during space travel realized they had gathered only one gender.
Against all odds, the world survived the chaos of the late 2010’s and early 2020’s. For all the confusion and uncertainty of those years, the nations of the world emerged from them stronger. The 2028 Summer Olympic Games were as much a showcasing of the world’s prime athletic talent as it was a celebration of how far humanity had come in just such a short time.
Jonathan was proud to represent his country. After a rocky start to the decade, the U.S. had managed to pull its head out of its ass and get its act together. There was still much to be done, but at least someone was out there on the world stage taking the lead and actually inspiring other countries into cooperation against the rising tide of climate change. His singlet, his uniform, reflected that commitment in the form of a green leaf right over his heart.
Opposite Jonathan was Japan’s candidate Kohaku, one of his closest friends, his most bitter of rivals, and the only person that deserved blame for the wildest fuck Jonathan had ever had. It was during the Paris games, in the middle of the night, out in public, in the heart of Olympic Village.
Jonathan licked his lips. Kohaku looked more than sexy in his tight red singlet. It left very little to the imagination and accentuated the bulge of Kohaku’s package. Watching Kohaku’s ample muscle butt flex under the tight spandex was an exquisite pleasure.
The singlet clung to every curve and crevice of Kohaku’s trim form. He was muscular but not large. His body was streamlined, perfectly suited to the light and graceful way with which he fought, that often gave him the appearance of a loping leopard.
Jonathan could scarcely take his eyes off Kohaku. Watching his friend and rival’s lean body ripple under the spandex as he moved made Jonathan’s cock swell in his singlet. He was sure he’d get mocked for it online, but he didn’t care. No one who mattered would care, least of all Kohaku or the other competitors.
Kohaku’s build lent well to a style that was quick and slippery, focused on using skill and strategy to win rather than anything else. The style was in stark contrast to Jonathan who, comparatively, was built more like a brick wall. His technique was characterized by forceful moves and an immovable foundation. Where Kohaku was a leopard, Jonathan was a lion.
Perhaps it was the difference between their styles that made their bouts so spectacular. Jonathan certainly had never had a match as exhilarating as the one he’d had with Kohaku in Paris for the gold. He’d spent the last four years chasing after the same high but nothing had even come close.
Given how much time had passed since they last faced each other in this way, Jonathan was willing to bet that today’s fight was going to be even more intense than the last. He was excited and practically vibrating with energy.
It wasn’t just the fight that Jonathan was looking forward to, though. He was also looking forward to what he and Kohaku would do to blow off steam afterward. Shortly after the opening ceremony, they’d bumped into each other, with Kohaku promising Jonathan another wild night after the Greco-Roman wrestling finals.
Jonathan rubbed his hands together, rubbed his palms on his thighs just above the knee, and took his stance. Kohaku was still and unflappable as he adopted his stance. A small smirk tugged at the corner of Kohaku’s lips as the seconds ticked down to the fight of their lifetimes.
The whistle went off to mark the beginning of the first round and within heartbeats, Jonathan’s hands had collided with Kohaku’s. Just as he felt the impact of Kohaku’s body against his, all the colors of the world seemed to melt away into darkness.
Regaining consciousness was a slow and arduous process. Gradually, Jonathan became aware that he was adrift in a dark and lonely void. He faintly remembered everything up until first contact with Kohaku, but everything else was a jumbled and blurry mess in his head.
Jonathan remembered a blinding flash of light and an enormous shadow falling over the venue, turning day into night. He couldn’t recall, however, whether that came before or after the people in the stands started panicking. For a short time, he wracked his mind, trying to remember, but could only faintly recall being engulfed in something warm and bright that sapped all of his will to fight.
There were only three reasonable explanations that Jonathan could come up with for the memories he had: the rapture had happened and he had been taken up to heaven, he had suffered an aneurysm and died, or he had been abducted by aliens.
Jonathan was fairly certain he was still alive because he felt alive even though he couldn’t move. It also was unlikely to be the rapture because, first and foremost he didn’t believe in God, and also because he was under the impression that if all the religious stuff was true, Heaven would be a lot more exciting than a dark void.
After that brief process of elimination, Jonathan was left with being abducted by aliens. It was as good an explanation as any, but on the other hand, whatever he’d thought being abducted by aliens would feel like, it certainly wasn’t this.
The worst part of it all wasn’t the darkness or the loneliness or the boredom, it was the powerlessness to do anything about the situation at hand. Jonathan couldn’t move his body, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, or feel anything including the blood rushing through his veins.
Jonathan felt like a disembodied consciousness adrift in some sort of astral prison. All he wanted to do was scream, but he had no mouth with which to do so. He could only quietly beg for the mercy of sleep or death but neither came as he drifted alone in the dark.
The third possible option, blissful ignorance, never occurred to Jonathan until he felt a strange but not altogether unpleasant fog settle into his head. It felt like a pleasant buzz at first, like whenever he had a single drink to start off a nice evening out.
As time wore on, though Jonathan didn’t really have much of a concept of time in a place that was featureless and unchanging, Jonathan felt progressively more drunk. At some point, all Jonathan could do was mentally giggle at himself because all other thoughts were so slow it was almost painful to actually think.
The thick haze in Jonathan’s head never really let up. It only got thicker and thicker, filling his head with warm, comfortable cotton until it was outright impossible to even think about thinking. Consciousness slowly ebbed away from him, and slowly, Jonathan forgot why he’d even been distressed in the first place.
Fresh air filled Jonathan’s lungs as awareness returned to him. The air was so clean as to be intoxicating and he couldn’t help but stop and take another breath. He’d always thought the air by the family cabin in the mountains was clean, but even that was nothing compared to this.
The tips of Jonathan’s fingers grazed the knotted limb of a tree root as he stepped his way around it. His body was moving of its own accord, somehow, and he could feel the cool air moving around his naked body. He stopped and crouched, feeling the loamy soil between and beneath his bare toes.
Jonathan tightened his grip around the coarse wood of the spear he had in his right hand. A crude bandolier, made of twisted bark twine, was slung across his back, carrying a few other pieces of knapped stone equipment.
It took a moment to register how and why Jonathan knew these things. It was strange to suddenly regain a higher level of consciousness only to become aware of another set of memories, recorded by a much more primitive, more ignorant mind.
Despite the shock of it all, Jonathan didn’t miss a beat on his hunt. He crept forward, watching and listening for any threats while keeping an eye on his mark. Muscle memory and discipline drilled into him by however many settings of the sun had passed while he lived like a caveman, bolstered by the discipline that he’d learned as an athlete, kept him on missions.
While Jonathan’s surroundings certainly looked like Earth, he wasn’t fooled. He was far away from home, which made the alien hypothesis all the more likely. The trees were similar, but appreciably different from the ones on Earth, most notably in the way that faintly glowing lines patterned like lightning covered their trunks.
Jonathan’s more primitive self remembered interacting with creatures that his actual self had never even heard of. Right now, he was hunting a large, six-legged herbivore that was prone to brief bouts of extreme speed. He’d been following it for hours, keeping on its tail while it slowly exhausted itself by running away from him.
Caveman Jonathan, what Jonathan decided to call his more primitive self, only knew survival. Jonathan, on the other hand, pondered how terrible of a way to die getting chased to exhaustion was. He could only imagine how terrible it must be to think you’ve gotten away every time only to watch them step out of the shadow of a nearby tree and having to run away again.
His thoughts on the terribleness of persistence predators aside, Jonathan was hungry. United by the common purpose of survival, he and Caveman Jonathan moved with determination. The chase was just about ending, and the large beast they’d been tracking had lowered itself to the ground in acceptance of what was to come. It gracefully lowered its head to the forest floor and let out a burbling sigh.
Jonathan crossed the distance between him and his quarry with a few quick strides. He braced the spear and sank the knapped stone spearhead into the animal’s neck with practised precision and accuracy. It was a clean kill, and an instantaneous one.
After he pulled the spear out of the animal’s neck, Jonathan got up, grabbed one leg in either hand, and got on with the business of dragging the carcass back to his camp. He instinctively knew where to go, and only then realized that he had been chasing the thing in circles around the campsite.
By the time that Jonathan arrived at the ramshackle shelter that he’d built between the trees, the sun was worryingly close to the treetops around the clearing. It would be getting dark soon, and all he’d had to eat all day was berries and some meat from his last kill. He needed to get on with preparing his most recent success for a meal.
First order of business was starting a fire. Luckily, there wasn’t any shortage of kindling in the vicinity, and Caveman Jonathan had stocked up some firewood in a small store kept off the ground and sheltered from rain—not that there had been so much as a spritz of water from the sky since the day he woke up as a primitive man.
As Jonathan was gutting the carcass, he heard the sound of a snapping twig. He tensed, reaching for his spear while crouching over his kill. He listened closely for any sign of an attack but heard nothing.
In the back of his mind, Jonathan was aware that there were others like him, the other wrestlers, but he had no reason to think that they had regained their consciousness like he had. There was also a chance it was just a feral animal, which was far more likely.
The faint rustle of leaf litter on the forest floor told Jonathan that something was stalking him from the edges of the clearing. He couldn’t see very far past the trees as the daylight waned, and for the first time he actually felt more like prey than predator.
Jonathan’s hackles rose when he noticed the glint of a pair of dark eyes staring out at him from among the trees. The flickering light of his fire had caught in their strangely-familiar depths. He blinked, and they were gone.
The forest had fallen eerily quiet, which only put Jonathan on higher alert. Something wasn’t right. Something was coming for him, and he had to be as ready as he could be.
The creak of wood was all the warning that Jonathan had. Like a missile, another human, smaller and consequently lighter than him plummeted from the canopy. Jonathan had no time to raise his spear to defend himself before the stranger collided into him and he was knocked to the ground.
The spear spun out of Jonathan’s grip, flinging itself a few feet away. He would have crawled for it, but his assailant had recovered restrained him. Before he knew it, he was flipped on his back, his arms and legs tangled up in the stranger’s.=
Jonathan struggled, but it was useless. Caught off guard, having just finished a hunt, and with nothing in his stomach but berries and water, Jonathan didn’t have the raw strength to break out of his restraints. It wasn’t until he got a close look at the leg hooked over his left arm that he stopped struggling.
Thump. Jonathan’s heart rapped against his ribs as he simultaneously realized two things: first, that he was in a wrestling lock, and second, that he recognized the birthmark on that calf, about a third of the way up to the knee. "Kohaku?" he croaked, his voice rough from disuse. "Is that you?"
The tight grip immediately loosened. "Oh, thank god you’re awake," said Kohaku. As soon as he was free, Jonathan sat up, rolling his sore shoulder. His side still hurt from where Kohaku had crashed into him, but the pain was already beginning to fade. Surprisingly, he found that he didn’t so much mind feeling the forest floor on his bare ass. "When did you… wake up?" said Kohaku.
"A few hours ago," said Jonathan. Judging by the look on Kohaku’s face, he imagined the same was true for the other. "Do you have any idea what happened? We were in L.A for our bout. Then, I was in a void. Then, I woke up here. Apparently, as a caveman, and then, earlier today, as myself."
Kohaku scratched the back of his head. "Yeah," he said, looking up at Jonathan’s face. "That sounds about consistent with what I actually remember. Maybe it was aliens… Shit. You know what? It probably was Aliens. God. It’s so weird. I feel like I’m two people at once."
"Tell me about it," said Jonathan. He hadn’t really taken the time to process the state of his mind. He hadn’t really wanted to, but he figured he’d probably have to sort through his memories if he wanted to make any sense of it. "But you know what? I’m kinda glad for it. I don’t think normal me would have had the knowledge or the skills to survive out here."
"Me too," said Kohaku. "Well, I wouldn’t say I was glad to have lived like a caveman for god knows how long, but I’m glad I’m alive thanks to that, at least."
The two slipped into a comfortable silence for a good minute. Nearby, the fire crackled. "Huh," said Kohaku, eventually, breaking the silence. His cheeks took on a tinge of pink. "I’ve been trying to sort through the memories… And I think I was hunting you for the past little while."
"No shit," said Jonathan. He rubbed his side, which, while it wasn’t painful, was slightly tender to the touch. He was actually surprised it wasn’t bruising yet. "That hurt, Kohaku. What the fuck? You dropping from trees, now?"
The corner of Kohaku’s lips quirked upward. "My primitive self thought that you were the apex predator in the area," said Kohaku. "He knew that a head-on attack wouldn’t work, that an ambush would be the only way to get you in his power. He thought you would do rather nicely as the carrier of his babies."
Kohaku’s cock was slowly rising between his legs. For the first time since they met in this new world, Jonathan actually looked at his friend and sometimes-lover. Kohaku was certainly bigger than he remembered. He was still trim and lean, but his muscles were larger and better defined. He was taller, too. It was almost as if Kohaku’s build and body had been extrapolated to their pinnacle.
It was only really then that Jonathan even noticed his own body had changed. He’d been so used to living in it as a Caveman Jonathan that it hadn’t occurred to him that the ground looked further away from his head than he remembered.
Jonathan wasn’t just taller, he was bigger, too. He was broader and stronger, as demonstrated by the fact that he’d carried what was probably a ton of animal straight through a forest to his camp.
Jonathan’s pecs were like enormous slabs of meat slapped onto his chest. His arms and legs were like tree trunks and his abs were like rocks welded onto his steel-hard stomach. His cock was larger, too, and his ass bigger and fatter than he remembered. His body was huge, but not freakishly so, and he kind of liked it.
"Wait… Did you say your primitive self thought I would make a good carrier for his babies?" said Jonathan. Inside of him, Caveman Jonathan seemed to take the words as a personal challenge. He didn’t even think twice about the concept of a man being able to carry a child. Instead, what he felt was a strange indignation at the thought that he would be the one carrying the child.
The more Jonathan thought about them, the less Kohaku’s words seemed to make sense. By Kohaku’s own admission, he was the apex predator in the area and yet somehow the inferior predator wanted to make him the bitch?
Jonathan simply couldn’t let a challenge like that stand. He had always been intensely competitive, and Caveman Jonathan only augmented that side of him. "What makes you think that I’ll be the one carrying the babies?" he said.
"You’re the one who said I’m the apex predator here. You’re light. You’re fast. Your body is hot and you look like you could hold your own. If anything, I think you would make a great mother," Jonathan added.
The growl that rippled out of Kohaku’s throat sent a shiver of excitement down Jonathan’s spine. It was so savage and raw and primal that he couldn’t help but get hard at the sound of it. Kohaku leapt up from the ground and crouched in front of him, teeth bared. "You are the apex predator of this area, but I am the apex predator everywhere."
Somehow, Jonathan doubted that. He got up, too, and took a stance opposite Kohaku. The fight was inevitable now, two hot-blooded males jockeying for which one would be the breeder, and which one would be the bred. Funnily enough, the way they were standing reminded Jonathan of Greco-Roman wrestling, which brought it all full circle.
Caveman Jonathan was pretty confident that he could win. He was stronger, after all, and clearly superior in terms of size. Jonathan, on the other hand, had seen what Kohaku was capable of and less confident. He got carried along in the hype of the fight, anyway.
It was almost as if Jonathan had been transported back onto the Olympic stage as the two of them met with what felt like a resounding thunderclap. This time, though, they weren’t fighting for the Olympic Gold, but rather to fulfill the biological imperative of passing on one’s genes.
While Jonathan’s transformation had enhanced his strength and his foundation, Kohaku’s had done wonders for him. Kohaku had become more agile and stronger, managing to bridge the gap that had always existed between them. On any scale but Caveman Jonathan’s, Kohaku had suddenly become far superior.
The fight was intense and brief. Without the rigorous rules to restrain Kohaku, his advantage at being smaller and faster truly shone. Jonathan couldn’t get a good grip on him, and in what felt like no time at all, he hooked his leg behind Jonathan’s and pulled Jonathan’s leg out from under him.
Jonathan fell with a loud thud onto his back. The momentum carried his legs into the air, and Kohaku took advantage of his prone position. Kohaku jumped on top of him, pinning his legs wide open in a mating press.
A strange, heat began to spread from Jonathan’s stomach. It made him tingle all over, but the warmth focused in his ass. All desire to fight deserted him as his eyes glazed over, and the molten heat in his ass filled him with the desire to be stuffed with cock.
Kohaku leaned down and kissed Jonathan. Fireworks went off in Jonathan’s head. He moaned into Kohaku’s lips, his hole twitching and quivering and trembling as globs of thick slick bubbled out of him. He needed Kohaku’s cock. He needed it badly. And yet all he could do was rock his hips impotently, waiting for Kohaku to fuck him.
With one powerful stroke, Kohaku slammed into Jonathan. It felt so good that Jonathan screamed. His cock stiffened and exploded, splattering his stomach and Kohaku’s with cum. As his mind went white with pleasure, Jonathan became the first piece of a new hierarchy.
The first other human that Jonathan and Kohaku met was the delegate from Argentina, Pablo. Pablo expressed surprise that they could understand him and that he could understand them, asserting that he was speaking in his mother tongue. Needless to say, Pablo hung around in the interest of safety.
Jonathan didn’t really understand that there was a pecking order. As far as he was concerned, he was a man like he had always been despite deferring to Kohaku for most things. It didn’t really occur to him that he was part of a developing hierarchy until Pablo made a move on him and Kohaku got pissed.
All his life, Jonathan had thought of himself as monogamous. He thought he’d feel a lot more jealous while watching Kohaku fuck Pablo after Pablo lost to him, but instead the way that the scene played out only made him horny. He actually felt proud of Kohaku for defeating and conquering another man, which was a lot to unpack.
Jonathan blamed Caveman Jonathan for the weird feelings, but he didn’t actually mind them. He came all over himself soon after Kohaku filled Pablo’s ass with cum.
Over the next few weeks they eventually met up with the rest of the wrestling contingent, and the hierarchy was realized. Kohaku was at the top, entirely undefeated, and Jonathan had status by virtue of being his mate. Contests between the other guys established the pecking order. If any of them were straight on Earth, they certainly weren’t anymore.
A month after Jonathan first regained awareness, the small group had built a village for themselves, complete with a wooden palisade to protect them from the wildlife. It was a simple life, and not at all too bad. Sometimes, though, Jonathan couldn’t help but miss the creature comforts of modern civilization.
If there were any other humans in the area, the group never found them. They actively searched for another month, fanning outward from their settlement, but found no one. It seemed as if the aliens had specifically targeted the wrestling group, which probably didn’t bode well for what they were ultimately going to be used for.
None of the men had any particularly in-depth knowledge of how the modern world worked but they made do with trial and error just like their ancestors had. They built up a stockpile of weapons, just in case it came to a confrontation. None of them wanted to be taken as slaves.
It was at some point into the third month that Jonathan had a world-changing experience. He felt a kick. He’d thought he was just putting on weight, but he was pregnant. Which meant that almost half of the village was also pregnant. He woke Kohaku up in a cold sweat and freaked out.
Needless to say, the news wasn’t taken well. No one lamented some conceived loss of masculinity—but everyone was concerned about how the fuck to deal with males giving birth. The solution literally came from the heavens, as a voice spoke down to them.
"Greetings, human men of Earth. Before anything else, we would like to express our sincerest apologies for uprooting you from your home world," said the voice from the heavens. "I am Nook, a venerable scholar of the Lükoh, and you were selected from among your people as part of an experiment in how to transplant sapient alien species to terraformed planets in the event of extinction-level catastrophes."
Jonathan hurried to Kohaku’s side. Rationally, he knew that the aliens were either in a cloaked ship overhead or they were inside a habitat inside an alien megastructure, but the more primitive part of him was afraid. He reached down and clasped Kohaku’s hands in his own.
"I’m afraid that we misapprehended your Olympic Games as a large-scale mating ritual as is common among most evolved species," Nook continued. "You were chosen due to your remarkable physical strength, the robustness of your genes, and the camaraderie between you."
"You are currently in a simulated environment on our capital ship, the Atalania. It has been three years, in your calendar, since we retrieved you from your home world," said Nook. "We did not realize that yours was a species with two sexes, and did not discover the mistake until we were well into our journey out of your solar system."
"As part of the experiment you should have received technology to rebuild society after you awakened from the primitive mindset that is unfortunately a side-effect of our evaluation methods that we haven’t quite worked out yet," said Nook. "But because of the mistake we made on picking you up, I decided that we would put you under long term observation."
The voice was quiet for a moment. "Until recently, that was the policy. However, we discovered that someone had broken protocol and conducted unauthorized genetic manipulation on you in order to mask the mistake of picking up only one sex of a two-sex species by making you able to reproduce."
"In about two or three hours we will be sending a team to set you up with a more reasonable modern lifestyle," said Nook. "We opened a communications channel so that you don’t react violently to the team that’s coming."
Nothing else was said after that. Jonathan felt like he was dreaming and judging from the look on Kohaku’s face, he could tell he wasn’t the only one thinking the same thing. "We’ll be alright," said Kohaku, pulling Jonathan’s head toward him to kiss him on the forehead. "We’ll be alright."