Month: October 2012

Voter Fraud

wrestlebard3 Comments
Is that a guilty grin on Z-Man’s handsome mug!?

What the hell was that?  The Reader’s Choice poll this month was an unmitigated failure, I’m afraid.  Votes were continually erased over the past two days that the poll was open.  At the end of day one of voting, it was looking like a tight race between Denny Cartier (buoyed by Aryx Quinn fans), Diego Diaz, and Jake Jenkins.  Then the next morning at least 20 votes were erased, and we started all over with a big surge in the poll for Z-Man.  Yesterday evening, at least another 20 votes disappeared, and Hooper was suddenly in the lead.  Early this morning, the poll results reported just 2 votes: a tie between Hoop and Gold Mantis.  Just 30 minutes ago, there were 3 votes recorded, adding up to a total of 150% of the vote.

Is is just me, or does Aryx look like he’s up to something?
I wish I were a tech forensics geek with the ability to definitively prove who or what was to blame for this gross miscarriage of democracy.  As with all all-electronic voting debacles, there’s no way to trace what went wrong or who was disenfranchised (though, frankly, it looks like nearly everyone was cut out of the official count).  Was it Z-Man’s minders (and I know he has quite an organization of them) scrubbing the record clean every time a competitor jumped out too far ahead of him?  Then again, I know for a fact that Aryx Quinn’s people were pushing votes for Denny based on the fact that Aryx was Denny’s tormentor in his nominated OTK.  Was it the Aryx Quinn/Tristan Baldwin machine throwing the vote when stuffing the ballot box wasn’t working?

Is Jake Jenkins as mouthwateringly innocent as he looks? 

There’s something ominous about this object lesson in relying on electronic media to approximate a democratic process.  I try not to even think about the implications of electronic voting machines in national elections for fear that I’ll never sleep restfully a whole night again in my life.  Of course the notoriously ill-supported and impersonal Google overlords that run Blogger and its in-house apps like the Blogger Poll widget are likely supremely uninvested in the outcome of the poll to determine who suffered the sexiest in an OTK backbreaker, as opposed to cronies of Presidential nominees who invest in electronic voting hardware and software, so the comparison is surely spurious.

If it was Diego Diaz, I don’t want to be the one to accuse him….

Ah, hell.  I’m not going to sleep restfully through a whole night now, at least until November 7.  The fiasco of this Reader’s Choice poll will haunt my dreams until President Obama is reelected.  I’m hoping they’re the sort of dreams where Tagg Romney gets forcibly stripped (yeah, those “undergarments,” too), surprisingly found to be packing a rock hard bod and 8-inches of pipe, and then cracked across Cage Thunder’s thigh while the masked master crushes his balls and makes him scream, “Bernie Sanders, make me your sex slave!”

Tagg Romney fantasizes about at man-on-man combat

However, I suspect my dreams will be much, much darker and more disturbing…

I offer to pay Tagg Romney $500 to let Cage Thunder do this to him….

Reader’s Choice Poll – OTK Delights

wrestlebard2 Comments
“Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup….”  I’ve been quiet around here lately, but I’m happy to report that it’s not a sign of writer’s block.  In fact I’m writing a lot, and on several different projects, all of which I’m finding very enjoyable and exciting.  You’ll have a chance to see it all sooner or later, but for now I’m designating today for a “reader’s choice poll” to make you all do some of the heavy lifting around here!
I’m on board with team Shutt!
Before we get to the poll, however, I want to make this brief shout out to a particular fan of this blog who made a special appeal for neverland readers to support his burgeoning, ass-kicking career.  My shirt for team Shutt arrived, and it fits great.  I’m looking forward to regular reports documenting his rise  through the ranks of hardbodied battlers, and I’m fully expecting him to generously remember those of us who were hopping on his bus way back when he was just a newbie with an attitude.  Readers can still order their own shirt, promoting and supporting the MMA career of a driven young man who appreciates all of our support.
Now, however, let’s move onto today’s assignment.  Homoerotic wrestling fans frequently have special g-spots for particular pieces of the complex puzzle of wrestling eroticism.  For example, Joe at Ringside at Skull Island recently posted that he’s a thighs-and-shoulders-man more than an abs-and-ass-man, whereas when it comes to someone like Kid Karisma, I’m entirely fixated on those world class glutes!  Same thing goes for many other aspects of wrestling, including holds and maneuvers.  There have been virtual rivers of virtual ink spilled by raging fanatics of bearhugs, for example.  There was for a while (I seem to have lost my link) a blog devoted to the erotic power of the bodyslam.  Regular readers know my particular kink is tweaked hardest by a hard, lingering, sweaty, spine realigning over-the-knee backbreaker.  So the reader’s choice poll for today is to sample the recent OTK backbreakers in new releases and select the one that’s the sweetest example of how exquisitely sexy this maneuver can be.  Like a tango, it takes two, but I’m convinced it’s the boy getting backbroken who sells this maneuver most, so the boys up for your vote are on the receiving end of this particular delight. Check out the nominees below, and then vote in the poll to the right.
Hooper’s trunks rise to vote for him for best wrestler in an OTK backbreaker.
Speaking of having spilled virtual ink, I’ve already waxed fanatical about the chemistry generated in the Thunder’s Arena recent release, Mat Rats 21.  The surprise star of the show is that growing bulge in Hooper’s trunks, god bless him, but possibly the most perfect moment in this match for me is when big (and I mean BIG) Austin Wolf pounds Hoop’s back down across his thigh and then leaves the little studpuppy slowly cracking in half.  Hoop’s agony is nothing short of sublime, and the rising tide in his trunks totally catches me off guard for it’s erotic appeal.
Rookie Gold Mantis bends like rubber while getting crotch-clawed by the master.
Gold Mantis learns immediately upon entering the gym to be careful what he wishes for (and wishes to avoid).  Within seconds, his #1 nightmare, Cage Thunder, has the hardbodied rookie locked up tight and cracked backward across his thigh. And can Gold Mantis bend or what!? Damn, a hot, hard body like that that’s also as limber as a gymnast is… well, it’s golden! With Cage Thunder’s claw squeezing his crotch, Gold Mantis is going nowhere at the speed of light, and this mouthwatering OTK ticks off just about every single box I’ve got!
Z-Man makes my mouth water with his no-hands OTK agony!

Z-Man fans will, I’m sure, chime in when they see that the playboy model turned homoerotic wrestling fantasyman is nominated here for his gorgeous display of his totally vulnerable yet incredibly powerful body wracked so appealingly across Dick Rick’s right thigh. Dick is a consummate salesman, and the sweat dripping off his meaty pecs are icing on this cake, but the cake itself is Z-Man totally committing to this involuntary chiropractic procedure.  So much beauty and power made so completely at the mercy of the heel pro… wow…

Denny Cartier’s hot bod, hairy thighs, and gasp-worthy flexibility on gorgeous display

Reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month, Denny Cartier, sells and sells and sells in his anchor role on Leopard’s Lair 4.  The quantity of abuse he soaks up from both Alexi Adamov and Aryx Quinn are epic, but I swear to you that it’s the quality of his suffering that makes Denny second to none in this new release.  Singlet straps down, on his tiptoes trying to relieve the pressure on his lower lumbar while his forehead is smashed to the mat on the other side of Aryx’ leg, the hairy legs, the stretched abs, the tats, the bulge… gorgeous.

Diego Diaz’ 6’3″ frame stretches for days as he bridges across Kirby Stone’s thigh.

Diego Diaz is another of the tallboys turning my head hard lately.  When Kirby Stone catches him across his right thigh and bends him backward, Diego is nearly too much man for Kirby to handle.  Keeping those long limbs and hot muscles in place makes the heel-rising Kirby have to work at it, and if a little gratuitous squeeze of Diego’s right glute happens along the way, all the better! There’s just so damn much of Diego to love, and this OTK makes loving every inch a deep down pleasure.

Pec-perfect playboy model Z-Man doesn’t only know how to catch an OTK, he can pitch with some sweet finesse as well.  When he’s got a sweat-soaked Jake Jenkins where he (and you and I) want him, it’s like sculpture.  But when JJ screws up his face, wails like a wounded animal, and clutches his lower back pinned across Z-Man’s knee, there’s pathos is all performance art!  Damn, I love JJ’s sweaty locks plastered to his temples as his head hands upside down!  This boy hurts like a champ!
Brit battler Will Stanley takes two opponents to work him over in an exquisite OTK!
Rock Hard Wrestling also chimes in with the only recent 2-on-1 OTK I’ve seen recently, and I have to say, I love a 2-on-1 OTK!  In this case, young muscle stud Will Stanley gets cracked across Ethan Andrew’s thigh and laid open for opportunistic punk Aaron Travers to pound the muscle stud’s vulnerable, yet armored, abs.  This scene would achieve ultimate perfection should Aaron’s left hand slide down underneath Will’s trunks and throttle his balls as he bashes the boy’s gut.  Alas, even short of perfection, it’s an incredibly hot contender for the most provocative OTK backbreaker of recent releases.
So who’s your pick for the wrestler selling an OTK backbreaker sexier than all the rest?  I’m wildly ambivalent and my loyalties are shattered 7 ways!

Larger than Life

wrestlebard2 Comments
6’3″, 225 lbs Alexi Adamov

While it was Denny Cartier who got my pick for homoerotic wrestler of the month, his opponent in the first match of Leopard’s Lair 4, Alexi Adamov, is nothing short of breathtaking. I’ve seen a lot of Alexi’s work, mind you.  His debut with BGE against the legendarily living legend Brad Rochelle was astonishing for the beauty of his long, hunky body beaten to a pulp by the freshly minted heel Brad.  And Alexi’s welcome of Mitch Colby to BGE was one of the most beautiful pair of sweat soaked bodies ever cast.  But I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alexi as ripped and gorgeous as he is in the ring against Denny.

Alexi is larger than life!

The contrast of his body and Denny’s body is almost certainly a major part of what makes Alexi’s appearance seem so unprecedented.  5’6″, 165 lbs Denny is solid, compact, and hot as hell, but facing off against 6’3″, 225 lbs Alexi serves only to make Alexi seem to grow at least a couple inches and 40 lbs bigger than he was as the fresh, painfully pretty rookie facing newly lethal Brad those years ago.

Alexi bulges in all the right places

Denny makes Alexi work, and he makes him hurt. When they aren’t on their feet, Denny holds his own and, more importantly, holds and hammers and squeezes and contorts the muscled Russian’s sculpted body beautifully.

Downward Dog never looked so good!

But what a huge, powerful boy like Alexi can do with a spunky, incredibly flexible and fearless wrestler 60 or so pounds lighter is absolutely art. Early in the match, he manages this astonishing move that’s sort of a combination of downward dog and a rib crushing body scissors.  Denny is helplessly suspended in mid-air and getting sliced in between the luscious Russian’s gorgeous thighs. It’s an incredible feat of strength and coordination, and it could as easily appear in a modern dance routine as in a homoerotic wrestling match.

Denny soaks in the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feel of being owned by Alexi

And lucky, lucky Denny gets introduced to every fantastic nook and cranny of Alexi’s mouth watering body. There’s not a moment that Denny looks like his mind is on anything other than doing his best to survive the ugly Russian brutality from the pretty, pretty Russian muscleman.  But Denny is nothing short of my hero for the moment his face is trapped way up Alexi’s crack, and of all the things he could do, he just squeezes those luscious glutes.

Like me, Alexi likes what he sees

I often find it a little distracting when wrestlers can’t quite tear their eyes off of the mirror when they’re battling in the BGE ring room. I’ve been in that room, and I know how big and alluring the mirror must be for boys as beautiful as Alexi.  But typically, I find the boys’ mugging for the mirror a little annoying.  But somehow Alexi pulls it off just fine.  He likes what he sees, meaning not just the sight of his fantastically beautiful muscles coated in sweat and pumped, but the sight of his big beautiful muscles in the moment of dominating an opponent.

Every last angle of Alexi’s body is gorgeous!
Every inch of Alexi is beautiful.  Every stretch and squeeze Denny applies reveals perfectly smooth and unblemished Alexi from every angle.  The only thing missing is another pair of hands tactilely appreciating the wonders that Denny reveals.
The spoils of victory

And speaking of revealing, after choking Denny with his wrist strap, he gives a nice big yank on Denny’s trunks and shows Denny fans what’s underneath the signature white trunks with blue piping.  Big, sculpted, soaked in sweat, muscled to perfection and pretty as a picture… and so generous with his fans!?  Damn boy!

Alexi looking his absolute BEST!

Winning the Hard Way

wrestlebard5 Comments
Jake Jenkins is stunning to watch use those muscles to choke out Eli Black

Sometimes I think of myself as a homoerotic wrestling kink therapist.  I often hear from wrestling fans who have questions and problems they want solved with regard to homoerotic wrestling.  “Tell BG East to…” or “Why does Rock Hard Wrestling always…?” And not uncommonly, I get messages from readers who tell me that they “just need to vent.”  For example, a reader and homoerotic wrestling fan recently “vented” to me in an email regarding a recurring frustration.  Like me, he’s a major Jake Jenkins fan. And like me, he enjoys watching Jake kick ass.  So when he sees a lot of JJ’s new releases in which the stud puppy clearly gets squashed, he’s irritated.  This reader knows my recurring answer to these types of questions: tastes vary.  Some of us likely get more kink for the buck to see a hot muscle kid like JJ dominated, while others of us get a harder push over the edge by watching handsome Jake on the conquering in of the equation.  But this reader still questions what makes those on “the other side” tick, and what makes them want to see more and more of JJ getting owned.

Jake goes down in a puddle of sweat beneath a victorious Kid Karisma

This exchange brought to mind a similar brief correspondence I had with a reader several months ago, who asked me to exercise influence over Steel Muscle God to convince him to tape some wrestling action in which the godly one gets dominated.  This is hardly the first time someone has vastly overestimated my influence. And it’s actually not the first time I’ve heard this particular plea.  Personally, I LOVE watching SMG totally use an opponent, particularly one of those hot muscleboys he’s pummeled lately.  There’s an absolutely intoxicating scene in SMG’s recent release of a ring “bout” in which he repeatedly sleepers a hot, hard hunk.  He puts the fiesty stud out flat on this stomach, and I’m 110% on board with the sell that this is an actual choke out.  The hunk goes limp like a noodle.  And when SMG shakes and shoves him and rolls him over, the hottie looks absolutely out cold.  SMG prods and pokes the unresisting hunk, standing over top of him and flexing his guns, leering down into his slack face, until finally after a half a minute or so, the vulnerable hunk of meat comes to.  Fuck me there something so erotic about that little exchange!

Steel Muscle God wreaks divine justice all over another hot muscle buddy

But ripping myself back to my topic for today.  Some readers have repeatedly complained that SMG “always wins.”  Why doesn’t he star in a muscleboy-in-trouble-scenario for those desperately waiting for him to stroke that g-spot where many fans get topped off by the powerful muscle stud shocked, laid out and humiliated?  For the record, SMG has said that he does have a wrestling match in which he “loses,” but I haven’t actually seen it (I think you have to buy it separately from the membership site, and I’m too frugal).  But the issue seems to be repeated from many of my kink therapy clients: “my getting off on a homoerotic wrestling match requires that my primary object of lust win (or lose).”

Brad Rochelle wrote the book in making a muscleboy loser epically homoerotic.

And both of these conversations call to mind still another set of exchanges I’ve had with a long-time commentator and avid student of homoerotic wrestling who more than once has chided me that I’m too focused on who wins and who loses.  What tweaks the subconscious wrestling kink, he argues, is almost entirely unrelated to specifically whose shoulders are pinned to the mat or which hunk sobs, “I give!”  The passion play that homoerotic wrestling presents us is about themes broader than the specific “winner” or “loser,” like broken egos, revenge on bullies, the battle of might versus right, or our personal secret longings to be dominated or to dominate.  And, this commentator has also argued, it’s about much more specific elements than the literal “win” as well, such as the particular sell of suffering, how persuasively we’re sucked into longing to see someone punished, the precise angle at which a wrestler’s lower back is pried backward in a Boston crab that convinces us he’s hurting while simultaneously displaying is gorgeous body and bulging package so tantalizingly.  There’s definitely the school of thought that literal “winning” and “losing” is almost entirely beside the point.

Brad Rochelle also looks GORGEOUS milking victory out of Patrick Donovan’s withering body!

I’ve pushed back against that hard line.  I think the drama of coming out on top is very central to what strokes my homoerotic wrestling kink.  The notion of two powerful men, both fully expecting to be top-stud as they climb into the ring is precisely the tension that thrills me.  One of them will end up defeated, knocked down a peg, put in his place, while the other will stride out of the ring victorious, top dog, in control.  Turn this into a non-competitive, everybody wins, nobody loses, passionless dance of pretty bodies, and I might as well be watching a yoga class, which even when the bodies are smoking hot, it’ll never do for me what a hot wrestling match does.

Pectacular Patrick Donovan also looks dizzyingly hot slapping down a humiliating victory all over Z-Man’s  beautifully vulnerable muscle-bod.

And then there’s one last mental association I’m having with all of this talk of winners and losers. At the BGE Headquarters discussion group, someone who has frequently commented on this blog wrote a seemingly straightforward opinion, suggesting that he’d prefer the initial photo galleries in the membership site of BGE not “give away” which wrestler wins and which one loses.  He suggested that he’d prefer to maintain the suspense, particularly for those matches that he’s planning on purchasing.  Give him enough time to get the new release shipped to him before revealing who ends up top dog.

Z-Man can also delight in victory as he rips apart loser muscle boy Brody Hancock

Personally, I think this sounds entirely reasonable and well-reasoned.  However, another commentator left a bizarrely mismatched diatribe mocking anyone who could “believe these matches aren’t fake.” This commentator prejudices his own oddly aggressive response by tying them to appalling politics, but my point is actually not his apparent political self-hatred.  My point is really that he misses the point entirely.  The point is not how choreographed wrestling-for-pay may be in any given example.  The question of wanting to milk the suspense of not knowing who wins is wholly unrelated to whether the wrestlers or promoters are staging the matches as melodramas rather than as Olympic sport.  It seems to me that the investment many of us have in winners or losers in homoerotic wrestling is entirely about how wrestling speaks directly to our erotic fantasies, not some “objective” evaluation of who, in a fair fight, would kick whose ass.

Babyface Brody Hancock also make victory look so, so sexual when he puts magically nippled muscle hunk Cody Nelson on his back for good.

Suspense, anticipation, the establishment of tension in the plot, the development of compelling characters who establish motivation and commit to their particular roles… these are essential elements of satisfying homoerotic wrestling as far as I’m concerned.  However much a pretense it appears in any given match, the context of combat is a core component of what turns me on and tops me off as a homoerotic wrestling fan.  It isn’t so much who would win in an actual barroom brawl (not at all, really), but who tells a provocative story about passion and heat, power and strength, skill and strategy, muscle and beauty, and, without a doubt, winning and losing.

Sweat soaked and savoring victory, Cody Nelson titillates musclebully fans when he crushes handsome, lanky, lovely Christian Taylor aka Chris Cox.

So why do some JJ fans never seem to get tired of seeing him humiliated and defeated?  Why are others desperate to watch him use those gorgeous muscles of his to pick apart and make another hunk his bitch?  How are some fans filled up on a steady diet of SteelMuscleGod owning one opponent after another, while others are insanely aching to see SMG crushed and dominated?  I think this state of affairs is simply the landscape in which we live as homoerotic wrestling fans.  Our fantasies vary, even as we share a common passion for the eroticism of wrestling drama. It seems clear to me that winning and losing is far from beside the point, and who wins and who loses is directly and intimately tied to what strokes many of us hardest.  It’s not that we’re naively buying into the competitive pretense of wrestling-for-pay. I for one love watching Olympic wrestling, but the hottest amateur match is only a fraction as sexy as even the average homoerotic wrestling product as far as I’m concerned.  Explicitly homoerotic wrestling is much bigger than the raw rules and tests of strength and skill of amateurs, and more importantly, the point is entirely different.  The point of amateur wrestling is entirely winning and losing.  But the point of homoerotic wrestling is to get you and me off, and while it’s not the whole story, the drama of winning and losing is one of the elements that makes wrestling the kink that defines me (and many of you!).

For my tastes, Christian never looked hotter than when he brutalized his lover and rumored-to-be tag team partner Skip Vance, tying together homo, erotic, and wrestling in as beautiful a bow as any victory ever has!

Friends with Benefits

wrestlebard1 Comment
Sam Champion (r) announces he’s marrying his partner (l) who is, shockingly, a man.
Breaking news! Sam Champion is gay!  Well, really now.  Breaking news? I’ve probably spent more time than most studying newsboys and speculating on their sexualities, but even a casual observer of that glazed look of unrequited lust and conspicuous blushing every time 6’2″ Italian thoroughbred Chris Cuomo gives him a wink and a smile couldn’t miss the obvious truth.  So excuse me if I fail to look surprised, even as I sincerely celebrate another hot celebrity throwing wide the closet doors.  Seriously, ABC has been handling the whole thing with remarkable poise.  It’s all about the good news, unrestrained excitement, gentle kidding… all the stuff that happens when anyone tells their friends that they’re engaged.  Because that’s the real news.  Sam’s tying the knot in a state where that’s legal with his smoking hot, sultry Brazilian (all of that’s redundant, now, isn’t it?) fiancé. 
Chris flexes his mouthwatering gun: Sam blushes and adjusts his position on his bicycle seat.
Sam and Chris were stars of the first homoerotic wrestling fiction I posted nearly 4 years ago.  They were tag team partners who had to compete head-to-head in a singles match to start off the newsboy tournament.  Their notorious gay/straight bromance turned nasty quickly when winning was on the line.      Sam used the excuse of the opening handshake to sucker punch (kick, really) Chris in the gut, dropping the big muscle stud to his knees, and slapping on a skull crushing standing head scissors.
Chris feins indifference to Sam’s straightboy crush
I imagine Sam to be a seriously vicious scrapper, while Chris is just stunned that his good looks and rippling muscles aren’t making his little buddy weak in the knees like they usually do.  Sam rips Chris’ tank stop off and ties the red-faced Italian’s wrists together with it before stepping back and taking in the sight of the muscle stud transformed into a vulnerable meatscicle.
I suspect Sam volunteered to co-star with Chris in a wet t-shirt scenario
Sam and Chris were at the very beginning of this blog, too, inspiring me to snag my first caps to post what it looks like when they get dropped into a dunking booth, their wet t-shirts plastered to their bodies.  Soaked to the skin, Chris’ hot pecs and tight abs on display as the fabric goes transparent… this is the type of “news assignment” every gay man wants to be part of!
Chris points at his pride and joy: that gorgeous, bulging bicep (oh, yeah, there’s a fish there, too)

Chris Cuomo remains a fixture in my homoerotic wrestling imagination, appearing in an astonishing 5 fictional wrestling matches in the Producer’s Ring.  His real-life penchant for absolutely needing to show off his massive, bulging biceps doesn’t do anything to douse this fire I’ve got burning for him.

Technically, one doesn’t actually need to roll one’s sleeves up past one’s granite carved deltoids to display one’s catch, does one? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

If somehow fishing could be worked into my erotic tastes, Chris would certainly be my patron saint.  As it is, his insistence on showing off his catch with his shirt sleeves rolled up past his massive shoulders, letting the heft of his catch pump his mountainous bicep up to a mouthwatering peak, is sufficient to cement him as a recurring character transported into my erotic wrestling fantasies.

Chris makes Sam sweat with a hands-on weightlifting spot.

Now with Sam trading up his bromance with Chris for a romance with Rubem, it makes me wonder if the chemistry between the two newsboys had a part to play in driving my instant infatuation with the big, handsome, muscle clad Italian.  The chemistry between them most definitely inspired that no-holds beach match between them.  Just to round out that action for those who missed it, there’s hair pulling, a heat-butt to the groin, face punching, and a rib crushing body scissors that makes one stunned newsboy wish he had air left in his lungs to be able to cry, “I submit!”

I’m pretty certain the green is photoshop, but the muscles are all Chris Cuomo!

With some major projects in my rearview mirror, I’m recommitting myself to the Producer’s Ring universe in the coming weeks.  First up, my infatuation with homoerotic wrestling newsboys is inspiring a rush of new action.  Chris Cuomo, the hunk featured most in my writing thus far (of any celebrity genre!) is almost certain to make an appearance again soon.  He’s pumped. He’s hard.  He’s been bicep curling massive fish and ripping that physique of his with triathlon training.  Somebody’s in for some hurt, even if the big, gregarious muscle stud tends to be a rather tragic babyface object of muscle-bashing sooner or later.

Chris unbuttons his shirt, flexes his pecs, and ponders the direction his homoerotic wrestling career is heading.

Then again, even the biggest boy scout on the planet (or the one with the biggest pecs) can be pushed only so far.  One of these days, our baby face hero may just decide that playing by the rules and flashing his dimples and nipples isn’t the key to success in the wrestling ring.  And if pec-pappa Chris takes a legitimate heel turn, holy shit! There are some hot newboy objects of lust who’d better watch their backs!

Artistic Visions

wrestlebard3 Comments

Today I posted a story at Sidelineland, telling the fictional story of a homoerotic wrestling confrontation between Aussies Hugh Jackman and Daniel Goddard.  It was co-written by me and Shodaime, and we’re awfully pleased with it, if we do say so ourselves.

Daniel Goddard was Shodaime’s must-have!
However, for me the most fascinating piece of the story “Gold Coast” is about the journey to get it written.  Shodaime approached me with the nugget of an idea.  It was hot and full of potential. He’s a major Daniel Goddard fan, so Daniel’s role was a no-brainer.  But I should have known that this was going to be an atypical writing project for me when we were already having to negotiate over who Daniel’s opponent would be.  We auditioned several potential hunks, with Shodaime pulling one way and me pushing another.  Daniel Goddard probably wouldn’t have been my first choice to star in this scenario, and Hugh Jackman certainly wasn’t Shodaime’s first choice, but we came to an amiable compromise and proceeded.
Bard’s boy for any occasion: Hugh Jackman
I think this project took right around 10 months, on and off, to complete! Much of that duration was spent with a couple of major life transitions for me completely distracting me from the task at hand.  Getting a knew job and moving across the country sort of puts a lot of other stuff on the backburner, and Shodaime was totally upstanding and understanding about my part of the long haul to get this piece written.
Daniel’s hot bod spends a good deal of time on his back in this match
But the creative process itself, I have to say, was a marathon wrestling match all on its own! It wasn’t as if Shodaime and I were ever just on totally different pages.  If that were the case, we might have just called the project quits and went our separate ways.  No, the creative differences were typically shades of gray rather than black or white.  There was my tunnel-visioned focus on a particular story arc.  There was Shodaime’s (some might say) obsession with selecting just the right visual aids to accompany the text (seriously there are nearly 60 pics embedded in this baby!!!).
Hugh makes sure that this is a rip ‘n strip match
I didn’t tell Shodaime this (until now), but there were a couple of times he sent me back suggested revisions to the storyline that nearly made me call the whole thing off.  But again, it wasn’t because his suggestions were so out of left field.  It was just that seemingly every step required an arm wrestling match between us to sort out moment by moment what would transpire when you get Daniel Goddard and his Beastmaster-physique into a professional wrestling ring with Hugh Jackman and his Wolverine-physique, piss them both off really royally, and lock the doors.
Daniel has some fun with Hugh’s power packed physique and raging ego
I’m thrilled to report that we finished the project and have both agreed on the precise format and details which I posted to the Sidelineland group this morning.  While this is technically “celebrity homoerotic wrestling” and thus might seemingly qualify for the Producer’s Ring group, I was adamant that it didn’t fit the Producer’s Ring universe.  Those familiar with the genre will note that never, ever in the Producer’s Ring will you read about a film producer as weak, anxious, or physically out of shape as appears in Gold Coast (hell, my producer’s are always fitness models!).
Hugh wipes something sticky off his lower lip
But as is always the case with co-authoring, this story pushed me to see things differently, to share a vision with another wrestling kink fanatic, and to wrestle this match to the mat.  Shodaime, it was without a doubt a pain in the ass working with you… and I’m incredibly glad that we did it!

And I quote, "Masks are for losers!"

wrestlebard3 Comments
Briefly known as York
I don’t often bother with “spoiler alerts,” but for what it’s worth, here’s one for you.  I’m about to identify one of the masked-unmasked wrestlers in BG East’s latest release in the Masked Mayhem series.  Should you be terribly heartbroken to learn the name of the wrestler appearing as “Yorik” in the first match on this DVD, turn away now. But a word to the wise, if you actually buy the DVD, you’ll know who this hot and hairy stud is within seconds. Still turned off by the idea of knowing the secret identity of Yorik? Click here now.
Silver Eagle hangs hot and sweaty Yorik out to dry like the laundry!

Before I venture into my thoughts about the pseudonymous Yorik, let me take a moment to appreciate his masked opponent, Silver Eagle.  Wowza! Sweet, juicy ass.  Seriously packed package. Big, strong, and deceptively fresh on the scene.  I like this guy. Quite a bit.  His opening salvo on “Yorik” is fucking hot and powerful.  Normally I throw up just a little in the back of my mouth when I see a wrestler decked out so blatantly appealing to patriotic fervor, but when this bubble-butted hero slaps Yorik dismissively in the face and kicks him when he’s down, I have to admit, I’m turned on.  I’ll pull out my superhero/military man fantasies for him if Silver Eagle is down with getting nasty, mean, and engaging in totally unnecessary roughness and hot domination!

Patriotism is knocked on its ass!

I swear I’m convinced the out-of-nowhere flag-draped rookie is going to be the star of this show, absolutely having his way with the hairy badboy in black.  But that big, blue package of his is just such a target!  Swing that thing too often in a heel’s face and he’ll knock the air right out of your lungs with a punch where it hurts the most.  And that’s just what happens to Silver Eagle.  And even more astonishing, his opponent schoolboy pins the patriot and then peels of his own mask, revealing that he’s none other than tidal wave rising heel, Morgan Cruise!

Too handsome and terrifying to put a mask on it!

There’s so much that veers off the track in this Masked Mayhem match that it leaves me dizzy.  First and foremost is the fact that Morgan unmasks himself within minutes of the match starting, and from that point forward beats the living shit out of his formerly unstoppable red, white, and blue boy opponent.  The masked wrestler gimmick (said lovingly) is iconically exactly the opposite of that.  The wrestler is somehow superhumanly powerful cloaked in anonymity.  He’s darker, more mysterious.  His depths are untested and unknown behind his disguise, and so his threat is magnified.  Its when a wrestler is unmasked that he reverts to his mere mortal shell again.  Unmasked, his inexhaustible strength evaporates.  His forced exposure humiliates him, and he’s left at the mercy of the man who remains a mystery behind his mask still securely laced about his head.

Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!

Morgan turns that meme on it’s head, growing three times stronger and infinitely more terrifying unmasked than he was as “Yorik.”  The heroic big hero Silver Eagle doesn’t know what the hell hit him as the minutes tick by, as Morgan kicks that gorgeous, metallic blue ass of his from a dozen different angles.

Morgan writes his own script across the bashed body of Silver Eagle

The match itself flies in the face of an icon of professional wrestling: the power of the masked wrestler. Morgan rewrites the book with his dripping, hot bod hammering all over Silver Eagle like there’s nothing but a rookie in way over his head under that shiny fabric laced to his face.

Morgan displays the rookie’s best side!

The reversal of the fixtures of masked wrestling is astonishing, captivating, and somehow that much more dangerous and suspenseful.  But Morgan Cruise fans will not be surprised when I report that the cruise-missile heel rising cannot stop his mouth from running.  And I swear to you, what comes out of his mouth makes me think that the foundations of BG East are seriously shaking at this very moment. Morgan explains that he hates masks.  He boasts that his reputation is twice as terrifying as any mask.  He’ll never wear a mask (again, presumably), because 1) he’s too handsome, and 2) people know and fear his face, so why would he want to cover that up!?  But then Morgan goes one step farther, one more step that made me gasp.  “Masks are for losers!” he snarls.

Morgan makes the masked man “the loser”

Holy fuck, did I just hear that right!?  We already knew that Morgan Cruise has got balls, but really!? He comes onto the Masked Mayhem series, a storied and highly popular genre, and disrespects the entire format?!  This is just match #1 on this DVD, mind you, so this is the first act to two more rip-roaring masked mayhem battles starring no fewer than three former homoerotic wrestlers of the month around these parts.  I’m desperately aching to know what any one of the other masked wrestlers on this DVD have to say in response to the coldly calculating call-out of the likes of Cage Thunder and The Enforcer!

To quote Big Bird after the Presidential Debate: Shit just got real!

There’s no mistaking that Morgan is a planner.  I don’t believe for a second that this was some off the cuff nastiness that he’ll walk back like a Republican Presidential candidate who’s just won the primary race.  Has Morgan Cruise just stepped over the line?  Is he out of control!? Or even more provocatively, is there a seasoned veteran who’s going to put the heel pup on his back, or is Morgan Cruise writing the rules now?  Wow.  Just… wow!

A Very Karismatic Birthday

wrestlebard2 Comments
Kid Karisma is begging for a spanking!
Not so long ago on this day of the year, a bouncing, baby Kid Karisma was born into the world. My, oh my, didn’t he grow up well!!!?
Kid K knows what you’re looking at!
The birthday boy has owned the top spot in my favorite homoerotic wrestler rankings for quite a while now, in no small part due to his birthday greeting to me a few months back.  The karismatic one extremely considerately assured me that, were I within reach, he’d spank my ass raw in honor of the special occasion.  Now that’s what I call a birthday wish!

Go ahead. I dare you.  Spank it.

An incredibly generous friend of this blog, Kid K has fueled the fantasies of neverland readers not only with his astonishingly hot homoerotic wrestling resume, but also with his generous sharing of candid behind-the-scenes pics of the partying that he and the other BG East wrestlers get up to after they’ve sorted out who’s on top in the ring and on the mat.

You know you wanna… go ahead and try it…

Kid K is a favorite around these parts not only for his excellent PR skills, of course.  His wrestling thrills me to core.  The same irreverent, justifiably cocky attitude that comes through in my interview with him is evident in every single match. He’s out to have fun… always… and the fact that he gets a kick out of stalking, taking down, dominating and humiliating his opponents is just a happy coincidence for you and me.

Kid K’s idea of a good time (my idea of a heavenly time!)

I wish there was more, and more varied, personality in homoerotic wrestling in general.  It’s a relatively rare wrestler who gives more than a snarl and an oddly fragile ego desperately in need of defense.  The wrestlers who break that mold tend to be the ones who grab my attention and rise in the ranks of my favorites, and Kid Karisma obliterates “the mold” every time he appears on camera.  I think every Kid K match I’ve seen includes him laughing… not a villainous, self-congratulatory stage laugh, but a genuinely amused laugh as some moment in the match actually tickles him.  Sure, the humorous moment is almost always at the expense of his opponent’s dignity, but my point stands.  Kid K is having a good time, whether he’s planting his world class ass on some lucky bastard’s face or making some gorgeous stud whimper like a baby with his head trapped between Kid K’s rugby-built quads.

A bubble-muscle-butt in a class of it’s own!

Oh, yeah, and then there’s that ass!  I swear I have to restrain myself from waxing poetic about Kid Karisma’s superhuman glutes in order to talk about anything else.  In my interview with him, Kid K admitted that his ass is, by far, his most appreciated feature.  He also clarified, should some severely myopic critic fail to recognize his incredible level of fitness from head to toe, that those glutes are 100% muscle!

Art.
My birthday wish for Kid Karisma is that someone is slapping that world class ass mercilessly, precisely 26  times, plus one to grow on before today is done.  To any of his personal friends out there, I’ll pay money for a pic of a bright red handprint pounded 27 times on one of those fantastic cheeks!
Rugby, wrestling, triathlon training… it does a body good!

I also hope today brings the birthday boy a lot of love, happiness, and a healthy dose of full contact erotic combat to top him off.  And yet again let me just put it out there: if ANYONE has a rumored pic of our favorite freckle-faced, red-headed muscle stud passed out oh-so-vulnerably after a night of partying with wild abandon, contact me immediately.  We need to talk.

All the evidence of a life well lived!

I know for a fact that Kid Karisma occasionally reads this blog.  He doesn’t strike me as the sort of hunk that needs a lot of ego stroking or fawning adoration (which, I’m the first to admit, is exactly what my comments about him generally qualify as).  But rather, he seems to genuinely appreciate his fans, and he holds a genuine appreciation for just how hot homoerotic wrestling can be for those of us so inclined.

The birthday boy knows that you like!
So if you’ve got a birthday wish you’d like to pass along, you might consider leaving it in a comment below.  I’ll make sure Kid Karisma gets the word that there are a whole lot of us who would like it to be known that we’re awfully, awfully happy that he’s in the world and doing exactly what he does best!
God bless America!

Happy Birthday, Kid Karisma!

Shock and Awe

wrestlebardLeave a comment

In the past few days, I’ve posted a couple of new stories in the Sidelineland homoerotic wrestling fiction group.  First, there’s an incredibly sweet and sexy story by Jobberinnyc entitled “Build a Better Jobber Trap.”  The writing is excellent, the scenario is so, so hot, and I’ve got a major crush one one of these boys in particular (you can take a guess which one).  Jobberinnyc didn’t post any visual aids, but here’s how I picture this threesome of collegiate wrestling-kinked roomies…

The titular “Jobber”
The narrator is a 5’10”, 150 pound skinny college senior whose life-changing stroke of luck was to get assigned to room with…
The muscle monster roomie: Andy
… 6’4″, 265 pound muscle monster, Andy, during their sophomore year.  It apparently didn’t take the roomies long to realize that Andy’s lust to be muscle worshipped was perfectly matched to his twink-roomie’s raging kink to worship muscle!  The boys scratch each other’s itches and go into together to rent an off-campus apartment.  To help make ends meet, they take on a third roomate, Stephen, whose wrestling team buddies refer to as “Colt.”
Wrestling stud/technician: Colt

Colt is about 5’9″, 180 pounds.  Jobberinnyc describes him “as sleek, fast, and strong as a small horse.” He wasn’t aware of his roommates’ extracurricular activities until he skipped physics class and came home to find them in a full-body muscle worship session.  “He was shocked for about 2 seconds… and then he joined in.”  So that’s just the background to Build a Better Jobber Trap.  Needless to say, three distinct bodies, three distinct skill sets, and one dizzyingly sexy wrestling story go straight to the heart of homoerotic wresting kink!

Threesome’s Adam

The second story I posted was a sequel to the drama “Threesome” that Bearhugs and I co-wrote almost two years ago.  Readers may remember that the protagonist in Threesome, Adam, was a staffer for one of the most prominent social conservative politicians in Washington, DC.  He led a double life, by day a foot soldier for “family values,” and by night a hardbodied horn-dog prowling the gay clubs in the outskirts of DC.  It all caught up with him when he met “the threesome,” who thought they were just teaching him a lesson in humility, but stumbled across his double-life along the way.  In the sequel I just posted, we meet another DC conservative champion of personal responsibility and all things heteronormative.

Fictional Congressman Darren Babcock (model Kamil Nicalek)

He’s a handsome studpuppy freshman congressman who immediately made all of the “most eligible” lists the moment he arrived in DC.

The congressman covers fitness rags

When he began showing up on the covers of fitness magazines, it became abundantly clear that the freshman congressman was not only a handsome devil, he was also a hardbodied muscle stud that made all the sexually frustrated housewives back in his home district crazy with lust.

The congressman is up for a high-stakes wrestling rendezvous

The congressman, like Adam, has a little secret, though. Actually, it’s the same secret.  And out and about prowling the gay clubs for the choicest ass in the nation’s capital, who should he stumble upon and get a hankering for but Adam.  Adam doesn’t exactly play hard to get, but as soon as he gets the congressman home, there’s a whole lot that gets hard fast.  The congressman isn’t a wrestling kinkster to start with, but with a little challenge and all-in stakes on the table, he takes to a sex-stakes best of three falls with his nightly conquest like a veteran.  In fact, he gives Adam everything he can handle and more!  All those countless hours honing that fitness coverboy bod (and some high school wrestling in his background) make the congressman a shockingly competitive opponent for Adam.

The congressman never guessed how hard wrestling would turn him on!

Covers are blown. Loads are blown.  There are some intensely painful moments of truth between the two incognito values warriors.  Some might think that they see some resemblance to real-life, equally hard-to-believe characters populating Washington, DC these days.  I assure you, any similarities are entirely coincidental.  No high-profile fitness mag cover boys who vote anti-gay yet are rumored to be afterhours mo’s while on the federal payroll as elected officials from the heartland were the basis for this story.  Any suggestion that I borrowed from any real life characters for this piece of total fiction would leave me in complete Shock.

Not a member of the Sidelineland homoerotic wrestling fiction group?  Sign up to read the archives, give the authors your feedback, and to share your own pieces of original homoerotic wrestling fiction!  Thanks JobberinNYC for a hot contribution!

Far from Rookie

wrestlebardLeave a comment
Self-described “Speedo Wrestling King” Cameron Mathews

At the very end of my interview with Cameron Mathews in August he mentioned that he was planning on opening a new website for fans to get more of him.  He dropped me a note last night to let me know that he’s now officially up and posting.  All Cam fans and even those who aren’t yet will want to check this out, because not only does CameronWrestler.com offer behind the scenes insights into the life of the hardest working hunk in wrestling (check out that travel schedule!!!), he’s offering one-stop shopping for some of the sexiest homoerotic wrestling holiday gifts I’ve ever heard of.  Cam is ready to deliver a “Pro vs. Joe” private match, and he’s got such sweet testimonials to share from very satisfied customers!  He’ll do “custom” matches for you, and I’m just saying here and now, get it line, bitches, because I’ve got something in mind that involves another former homoerotic wrestler of the month and regular chart-topping favorite of mine!  And you can even get him on the line for a fee, for which I’m sure he’s worth every last penny.

Our first introduction to Cameron at BG East (NICE to meet you!)

However, I’m particularly fascinated by his offer to sell his “VARSITY” trunks that he wore in his BG East debut against the living legend and object of endless speculation, Brad Rochelle.

Cameron was oh-so-YOUNG and innocent-looking back then.  This was precisely one of the greatest assets he brought to Contract 5: Rooked.  He looked so painfully babyfaced, so poignantly angelic and adolescent, that poor, poor Brad didn’t seriously have a clue just how dangerous Cam already was in the ring.

Those trunks were squeezed between such a gorgeous rock and a sexy hard place!

Cam’s offering to sell the trunks for $175.  I seriously think there should be a bidding war, because I bet he could get, and deserve, more.  Just take a look at that legendary ass of his packed so pleasingly into them!

Squeezed against Brad’s hot bod, Cameron soaked his trunks with sweat!

Of course, it was his ass that was the surprise star of the show.  I remember scarfing up everything I could get of Contract 5 for another whiff of the alluring scent of fantasyman par none Brad Rochelle, only to be gasping out loud at the mega-star power packed into the trunk end of Cam’s trunks.  It takes a lot to make me tear my eyes off of Brad Rochelle, mind you.  Cameron, and those trunks of his, were up to that task!

Brad got a close-up view of Cameron’s bulging trunks.

Again, between what was packed inside of them and the opponent whose face was shoved up against them, perhaps the Smithsonian should consider putting in a bid on this storied little piece of fabric!

All these years later, and Cameron just gets sexier and sexier!

Between you and me, I’m infatuated with Cameron’s more “mature” body these days in a way his rookie-rising bod from those many years ago didn’t capture me as much.  He’s looking like such the muscleboy these days, and that, paired with the same babyface as always (with occasional scruff to remind you he definitely needs to shave) is a fantastic combination.

Brad made Cameron and those trunks work!

So Christmas is just 82 days away.  I know of at least one homoerotic wrestling fanatic and blogger who would squeal like an 11-year old girl to find Cam’s Varsity trunks underneath the tree.  Get the bidding started, boys, and tune into CameronWrestler.com regularly to stay fully abreast of the babyface battler that we’ve watched grow up before our very eyes!

Brad used those trunks the way homoerotic wrestling gear was meant to be used!
(And because I’m just too subtle, let me clarify: I’m the one who’d scream like an 11-year old girl to find Cameron Mathews trunks under the tree 82 days from now!)
The merchandise is sweet from every angle!
Even the Boss gives that ass a big thumbs up!