Content: AU antics, mature subject matter, m/m slash, language.
Character/s: Shane McMahon, Chris Jericho, random other mentions.
Disclaimer: I own NO ONE depicted in these fics. I am not endorsed by any person, corporation, federation, promotion, etc., nor do I receive any monies for writing sick and twisted tales of their imagined goings-on. Lyrics, quotations, etc. used without permission. No infringement or disrespect to the various artisans is intended, so please don't sue me.
* * *
Shane McMahon and Chris Jericho wandered aimlessly through the parking lot trying to locate Shane's vehicle. Chris found himself cursing for perhaps the hundredth time the popularity of the Ford Expedition, as that seemed to be all his co-workers drove. It was also the reason they hadn't yet located Shane's SUV after a good ten minutes of searching.
"Damn things all look the same. Why couldn't you drive something distinctive?" Chris snorted in annoyance.
"Because I didn't pay for the thing, that's why," Shane snapped back.
Their argument was brought to an abrupt end as a command sounded behind them. "Halt!" Chris and Shane whirled around and froze as they spotted the owner of the voice. It was a tall man wearing a black helmet and dark glasses, clad in a red uniform of a type that neither wrestler had ever seen before. He wasn't alone, either. There were five or six similarly-uniformed men standing behind him, all brandishing identical firearms.
"What the hell is this? Who are you people? Do you know who I am?" Chris demanded, wishing he sounded more sure of himself.
"Silence! You two will come with us," the tall man spoke again. His voice had a peculiar timbre to it, a sort of reverberation that unsettled both Chris and Shane.
"What if we don't go with you?" Shane asked, his brow creased with worry. The answer he got sent a chill through him.
"You WILL come with us, conscious or not. You have no choice in the matter." He motioned with his firearm and the men standing behind him came forward to grab Shane's and Chris' arms and pin them behind their backs. They were too frightened to cry out and allowed themselves to be marched through the parking lot.
Their small group finally came to a halt in front of a bizarre white vehicle that looked for all the world like a small spaceship. A door swung open in response to the tall man's nod and both wrestlers were hauled aboard. They felt the craft leave the ground and wondered what lay in store for them.
After a brief flight, they felt the craft settle to the ground again and were escorted out into a landing bay of sorts. There were literally hundreds of uniformed men and women, all carrying identical weapons, busily going about some task or other. Chris and Shane were given very little time to take in their surroundings as they were quickly steered down a nearby corridor. Their captors led them to a large room where they were turned over to a new group of men.
"Are they supposed to be doctors or something?" Shane whispered, noting the white lab coats.
"Who the fuck knows? I'm more interested in finding out where the hell we are and why," Chris responded.
One of the men approached Chris and Shane and looked them up and down with a curious eye. "Because of your limited vocal abilities you would be unable to pronounce my actual name. I am what your species would refer to as a doctor, so to facilitate our conversation you may call me either that or the simple Earth name that I have adopted, which is Anthony. You will now remove your clothing." When neither Chris nor Shane moved to comply, he snapped his fingers and the guards approached, brandishing their weapons menacingly. "You will remove your clothing," he repeated. "If you do not do so, they will be removed FOR you. We do not yet know enough about your species to be familiar with your sensitivity to pain, but I assure you we will have no problem discovering this if you do not comply."
The threat was delivered with a cold, emotionless air that chilled both men. Knowing they had no choice, they hastily began to disrobe. Another of the lab technicians approached, clipboard in hand, ready to jot down whatever information was needed.
After Chris and Shane were reduced to only their boxer shorts, the doctor approached Shane first. He took in the frightened man's appearance, reporting various statistics to his technician. "Subject A, medium build, approximately 235 pounds, six feet, two inches in height, short brown hair, brown eyes, gender appears to be male. Subject displays nervous mannerisms and would appear to be a low-ranking member of its society." Shane could only stare slack-jawed at the clinical summation of his physical and psychological makeup.
The doctor then moved towards Chris, who attempted to back away. He stopped when a firearm was leveled at him by one of the guards. "Subject B, muscular build, approximately 230 pounds, six feet in height, long hair of varying colors, blue eyes, gender is presumably female."
Chris was outraged and he stamped his foot in indignation. "I'm no fucking female, you damn aliens! I'm Canadian, for God's sake!"
His outburst failed to deter the doctor's continuing examination, however. "Subject B is extremely high-strung, given to emotional outbursts, and is most likely a pampered member of its society. It seems likely that its primary purpose would be reproduction."
Chris continued to rail at the doctor, tossing his head indignantly. "I'm NOT a fucking girl! Get that through your thick fucking skull!"
"The hair of the female is apparently used as a display of aggression, and we can only speculate as to what effect this would normally have on the male of the species. Perhaps it serves to make the female more appealing to a potential mate." Chris' reaction was predictably loud and filled with obscenities.
Even in the midst of what was decidedly a surreal situation, Shane couldn't quite suppress a giggle over his co-worker's tantrum. At a savage glare from Chris, he quickly changed his expression to one of deepest concern. He cleared his throat nervously. "Excuse me... Doctor? Why is it you think he's female?"
Anthony looked Chris up and down before responding. "While our research of your kind is admittedly limited, we have observed that your females tend to share similar traits. They generally wear their hair long, as this one does, and are extremely prone to histrionics. We were instructed to procure a male and female of your species for our experiments and thought that the two of you would make excellent test subjects."
Chris stared aghast before finally blurting out, "What the fuck kinda experiments are you talking about?"
"Why, reproductive, of course. We wish to study the intimate habits of your people."
Shane choked on his own laughter. "Well, you're in for a big disappointment, then. Since we're both male, there won't BE any... 'intimate habits' to observe."
His refusal was dismissed by an almost negligent wave. "While I applaud your efforts to protect your female, I must inform you that our experiments will proceed as scheduled. We are unconcerned with your emotional state. I find it rather difficult to believe that your culture would have some sort of taboo about others witnessing your reproductive habits, as we have found volumes of documentary evidence to the contrary."
"Dude, is he talking about pornos?" Chris whispered and received a shrug by way of response.
"Now then," the doctor continued, "we will allow you a few moments to prepare yourselves while my assistants and I ready our monitoring equipment." The doctor's voice left no room for argument, but Chris and Shane had absolutely no clue how to proceed. Obviously they were expected to perform in some way, but they hadn't the faintest idea how they could, since couldn't even convince this Anthony that Chris wasn't female.
"What the fuck do we do, Shane? I mean, they can't expect us to just fuck each other like a couple of fags or something!"
"I have no idea, Chris. No idea at all."
"What is the cause for this delay?" The doctor's voice brought their discussion to an abrupt end. "I appreciate that you are very possessive, young man, but I cannot tolerate any more stalling on your part. You and your mate will finish disrobing and then you will provide the demonstration that we require for our studies." He nodded to his guards who came forward, ready to assist the doctor if necessary.
Shane gave a resigned shrug and slowly lowered his boxer shorts, trying not to think about the many pairs of eyes that were suddenly focused on his body. He turned to see if his friend had done the same and almost smiled when he saw Chris standing naked beside him, his cock jutting out proudly as if in defiance of the tense situation.
"If my research has been accurate, I will assume you require something to lie upon. That is preferred, is it not?" Anthony asked, appearing genuinely concerned about Chris and Shane's comfort.
Shane glanced around the room once before finally nodding at the doctor's examination table. "I... I guess that'll do," he suggested, trying to ignore Chris' startled intake of breath. The doctor nodded and returned to his assistants, instructing them to aim their recording devices at the table.
"Shane, what the fuck are you doing?!" Chris was practically beside himself with anger.
"The only thing we CAN do, Chris." He inclined his head towards the guards. "They're gonna make us do whatever they want anyway. I'd just as soon get through this alive, wouldn't you?"
"But that means you're gonna have to..." Chris couldn't even finish his sentence.
Shane gave a reluctant nod. "They think you're a girl and there's no way we can convince them otherwise. So yeah, I'm afraid I'm going to have to... well, you know."
Chris heaved a sigh of frustration. There was no way out of this predicament that he could see. If only he'd picked Trish or Amy to walk with after the show. If only he hadn't even GONE to the show. How the fuck had this happened? Who were these guys, anyway? Shit. He was gonna have to let Shane fuck him. No two ways about it. He moved over towards the table like a condemned man on his way to the electric chair. It could be worse, he supposed. At least it wasn't Ric Flair. He slowly climbed up onto the table and lay back, waiting for Shane to make the next move.
Character/s: Shane McMahon, Chris Jericho, random other mentions.
Disclaimer: I own NO ONE depicted in these fics. I am not endorsed by any person, corporation, federation, promotion, etc., nor do I receive any monies for writing sick and twisted tales of their imagined goings-on. Lyrics, quotations, etc. used without permission. No infringement or disrespect to the various artisans is intended, so please don't sue me.
* * *
Shane McMahon and Chris Jericho wandered aimlessly through the parking lot trying to locate Shane's vehicle. Chris found himself cursing for perhaps the hundredth time the popularity of the Ford Expedition, as that seemed to be all his co-workers drove. It was also the reason they hadn't yet located Shane's SUV after a good ten minutes of searching.
"Damn things all look the same. Why couldn't you drive something distinctive?" Chris snorted in annoyance.
"Because I didn't pay for the thing, that's why," Shane snapped back.
Their argument was brought to an abrupt end as a command sounded behind them. "Halt!" Chris and Shane whirled around and froze as they spotted the owner of the voice. It was a tall man wearing a black helmet and dark glasses, clad in a red uniform of a type that neither wrestler had ever seen before. He wasn't alone, either. There were five or six similarly-uniformed men standing behind him, all brandishing identical firearms.
"What the hell is this? Who are you people? Do you know who I am?" Chris demanded, wishing he sounded more sure of himself.
"Silence! You two will come with us," the tall man spoke again. His voice had a peculiar timbre to it, a sort of reverberation that unsettled both Chris and Shane.
"What if we don't go with you?" Shane asked, his brow creased with worry. The answer he got sent a chill through him.
"You WILL come with us, conscious or not. You have no choice in the matter." He motioned with his firearm and the men standing behind him came forward to grab Shane's and Chris' arms and pin them behind their backs. They were too frightened to cry out and allowed themselves to be marched through the parking lot.
Their small group finally came to a halt in front of a bizarre white vehicle that looked for all the world like a small spaceship. A door swung open in response to the tall man's nod and both wrestlers were hauled aboard. They felt the craft leave the ground and wondered what lay in store for them.
After a brief flight, they felt the craft settle to the ground again and were escorted out into a landing bay of sorts. There were literally hundreds of uniformed men and women, all carrying identical weapons, busily going about some task or other. Chris and Shane were given very little time to take in their surroundings as they were quickly steered down a nearby corridor. Their captors led them to a large room where they were turned over to a new group of men.
"Are they supposed to be doctors or something?" Shane whispered, noting the white lab coats.
"Who the fuck knows? I'm more interested in finding out where the hell we are and why," Chris responded.
One of the men approached Chris and Shane and looked them up and down with a curious eye. "Because of your limited vocal abilities you would be unable to pronounce my actual name. I am what your species would refer to as a doctor, so to facilitate our conversation you may call me either that or the simple Earth name that I have adopted, which is Anthony. You will now remove your clothing." When neither Chris nor Shane moved to comply, he snapped his fingers and the guards approached, brandishing their weapons menacingly. "You will remove your clothing," he repeated. "If you do not do so, they will be removed FOR you. We do not yet know enough about your species to be familiar with your sensitivity to pain, but I assure you we will have no problem discovering this if you do not comply."
The threat was delivered with a cold, emotionless air that chilled both men. Knowing they had no choice, they hastily began to disrobe. Another of the lab technicians approached, clipboard in hand, ready to jot down whatever information was needed.
After Chris and Shane were reduced to only their boxer shorts, the doctor approached Shane first. He took in the frightened man's appearance, reporting various statistics to his technician. "Subject A, medium build, approximately 235 pounds, six feet, two inches in height, short brown hair, brown eyes, gender appears to be male. Subject displays nervous mannerisms and would appear to be a low-ranking member of its society." Shane could only stare slack-jawed at the clinical summation of his physical and psychological makeup.
The doctor then moved towards Chris, who attempted to back away. He stopped when a firearm was leveled at him by one of the guards. "Subject B, muscular build, approximately 230 pounds, six feet in height, long hair of varying colors, blue eyes, gender is presumably female."
Chris was outraged and he stamped his foot in indignation. "I'm no fucking female, you damn aliens! I'm Canadian, for God's sake!"
His outburst failed to deter the doctor's continuing examination, however. "Subject B is extremely high-strung, given to emotional outbursts, and is most likely a pampered member of its society. It seems likely that its primary purpose would be reproduction."
Chris continued to rail at the doctor, tossing his head indignantly. "I'm NOT a fucking girl! Get that through your thick fucking skull!"
"The hair of the female is apparently used as a display of aggression, and we can only speculate as to what effect this would normally have on the male of the species. Perhaps it serves to make the female more appealing to a potential mate." Chris' reaction was predictably loud and filled with obscenities.
Even in the midst of what was decidedly a surreal situation, Shane couldn't quite suppress a giggle over his co-worker's tantrum. At a savage glare from Chris, he quickly changed his expression to one of deepest concern. He cleared his throat nervously. "Excuse me... Doctor? Why is it you think he's female?"
Anthony looked Chris up and down before responding. "While our research of your kind is admittedly limited, we have observed that your females tend to share similar traits. They generally wear their hair long, as this one does, and are extremely prone to histrionics. We were instructed to procure a male and female of your species for our experiments and thought that the two of you would make excellent test subjects."
Chris stared aghast before finally blurting out, "What the fuck kinda experiments are you talking about?"
"Why, reproductive, of course. We wish to study the intimate habits of your people."
Shane choked on his own laughter. "Well, you're in for a big disappointment, then. Since we're both male, there won't BE any... 'intimate habits' to observe."
His refusal was dismissed by an almost negligent wave. "While I applaud your efforts to protect your female, I must inform you that our experiments will proceed as scheduled. We are unconcerned with your emotional state. I find it rather difficult to believe that your culture would have some sort of taboo about others witnessing your reproductive habits, as we have found volumes of documentary evidence to the contrary."
"Dude, is he talking about pornos?" Chris whispered and received a shrug by way of response.
"Now then," the doctor continued, "we will allow you a few moments to prepare yourselves while my assistants and I ready our monitoring equipment." The doctor's voice left no room for argument, but Chris and Shane had absolutely no clue how to proceed. Obviously they were expected to perform in some way, but they hadn't the faintest idea how they could, since couldn't even convince this Anthony that Chris wasn't female.
"What the fuck do we do, Shane? I mean, they can't expect us to just fuck each other like a couple of fags or something!"
"I have no idea, Chris. No idea at all."
"What is the cause for this delay?" The doctor's voice brought their discussion to an abrupt end. "I appreciate that you are very possessive, young man, but I cannot tolerate any more stalling on your part. You and your mate will finish disrobing and then you will provide the demonstration that we require for our studies." He nodded to his guards who came forward, ready to assist the doctor if necessary.
Shane gave a resigned shrug and slowly lowered his boxer shorts, trying not to think about the many pairs of eyes that were suddenly focused on his body. He turned to see if his friend had done the same and almost smiled when he saw Chris standing naked beside him, his cock jutting out proudly as if in defiance of the tense situation.
"If my research has been accurate, I will assume you require something to lie upon. That is preferred, is it not?" Anthony asked, appearing genuinely concerned about Chris and Shane's comfort.
Shane glanced around the room once before finally nodding at the doctor's examination table. "I... I guess that'll do," he suggested, trying to ignore Chris' startled intake of breath. The doctor nodded and returned to his assistants, instructing them to aim their recording devices at the table.
"Shane, what the fuck are you doing?!" Chris was practically beside himself with anger.
"The only thing we CAN do, Chris." He inclined his head towards the guards. "They're gonna make us do whatever they want anyway. I'd just as soon get through this alive, wouldn't you?"
"But that means you're gonna have to..." Chris couldn't even finish his sentence.
Shane gave a reluctant nod. "They think you're a girl and there's no way we can convince them otherwise. So yeah, I'm afraid I'm going to have to... well, you know."
Chris heaved a sigh of frustration. There was no way out of this predicament that he could see. If only he'd picked Trish or Amy to walk with after the show. If only he hadn't even GONE to the show. How the fuck had this happened? Who were these guys, anyway? Shit. He was gonna have to let Shane fuck him. No two ways about it. He moved over towards the table like a condemned man on his way to the electric chair. It could be worse, he supposed. At least it wasn't Ric Flair. He slowly climbed up onto the table and lay back, waiting for Shane to make the next move.