Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

Let me wipe the sweat off my brow (not to mention any other bodily fluids) and return to my senses. I’m sure I’ll spend a whole lot more time sucking out the marrow from the mouthwatering delicacies BG East has presented in their centennial catalog, but I’ve got serious business to do, now that I’ve pushed pause. I feel the need to elevate from among possibly the most competitive field I’ve ever seen one wrestler to crown as my pick for homoerotic wrestler of the month.  Occasionally, newbies to neverland demonstrate that they don’t know what I’m talking about when I laud a new HWOTM, so let me just review the concept for you who have just tuned in:

Each month, I take a look at the new releases from homoerotic wrestling producers the month prior. My usual suspects are BG East, Can-Am, Muscle Domination Wrestling, Naked Kombat, Rock Hard Wrestling, and Thunder’s Arena, and every so often an “independent producer” makes a play for serious contention (e.g., Steel Muscle God, or the rare foray into the genre by mainstream porn producers). The criteria are simple and straightforward. The wrestler I name must have appeared in a new release during the prior month, and he must be the one hunk who stands out for having turned me on the hardest. Sometimes readers read more into it than that, but that is, genuinely the scope.

Savoring the new releases that were produced in September by the above masters of wrestling-for-gay-eyes, my task was simply brutal. There are months when I actually give the title a pass because I just don’t think the field was of high enough quality, but September 2013 posed precisely the opposite problem. Way, way too much goodness streaming down, nearly drowning me as I try to keep my head above water and put everyone else but one standout wrestler into the category of also-rans. There were serious contenders from every producer on my go-to list, but in the end, I went with my gut and stuck to the premise, choosing the wrestler that turned me on hardest…

 

 

 

 

 

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Brad Rochelle – 6′, 190 lbs, a living legend

Brad Rochelle.  Again, particularly for those of you new to neverland, be warned that I bulldoze right through spoiler material without a passing thought for anyone wanting to remain in suspense about details of most of the matches I talk about. So if you don’t want to know particulars about the climactic chapter in the Contract series, turn away now. Because I’ve got shit I’ve simply got to say!

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Brad bends like none other!

First of all, Contract 10 is an awesome testimony to the masterful ensemble that has been responsible for BG East catalogs 1-100. There’s no denying that, as with every Contract DVD, Brad is “the star.” However, the climactic chapter pulls in boys in front of and behind the camera, newbies, paradigmatic veterans, cameramen, and not to be overlooked (for fear of getting my ass kicked), The Boss himself, Kid Leopard. As I’m often chided when I do the HWOTM, the quality of Contract 10 is entirely owed to everyone who is a part of it, not only Brad. But because everyone who is a part of it knows what the fuck they’re doing, they push Brad Rochelle with grace and conviction, and Brad is nothing if not ready to ride that wave and absolutely shine as the rudder to this ship.

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Two muscled studs aren’t anywhere close to enough to conquer the veteran babyface Brad Rochelle!

Let me give you just a little premise to provide context. Brad’s reign of terror as the jobber-turned-heel has come to an abrupt end, now that KL has cottoned on to exactly what the legendary babyface Brad has been up to when The Boss’ back has been turned. Brad is bagged and tagged by the back office boys, dragged before KL quite literally sitting on his throne, and once again offered an escape clause to his soul-crushing small print servitude to his contract. If he can beat a wrestler of The Boss’ choosing, he can walk away a free man. If not, and I kid you not, he’s “fucked.” Yeah, that got my attention, too. Just as an aside, as The Boss is saying this, Kid Vicious is excitedly rubbing his crotch through his jeans. Yep, me too.

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Brutalized babyfaces stacked like firewood.

The Boss’ right-hand man, Jonny Firestorm, takes it upon himself to toss Brad’s fine, fine ass into the ring against gorgeous baby face beauties Chace LaChance and Attila Dynasty (whose massive package, which does not quite remain contained, deserves a contract of it’s own). Yes, Brad, both of them, Jonny explains. Jonny scoffs at Brad’s incredulity, pointing out a living legend like Brad should have no problem manhandling a couple of prettyboys.  Now, Brad’s faced 2-on-1 beatings before in the Contract, and though it’s never been easy, he has (post-heel-turn) come out on top. Chace and Attila are gorgeous, acrobatic, awesome competitors, but though they crash like waves into the living legend, Brad beats the living shit out of them both, one at a time. The boys are humiliated, and Brad is a fucking fantastic bully every step of the way.  He taunts and torments them. He teases and reviles them. This is incredibly hot wrestling domination, brought to a sudden and screeching halt when Jonny abruptly knocks Brad out cold with the video camera and tells the babyface wonder-twins that “the fix is on!” As Jonny leaves to show hit footage to The Boss, Chace and Attila go to town on the dazed man who has defined homoerotic wrestling suffering for a generation of us. One long 2-on-1 session brings Brad to the edge of endurance. They rip and pry and crush him. And with pathos dripping from the screen like sweet honey, the babyface hero battles back from exhaustion and rips victory from the jaws of defeat.

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Jeremy Tyler absolutely crushes Brad!

When Jonny returns to find Brad post-victory, he pounds the living legend in the face with his video camera so hard that the equipment breaks into pieces! Brad is OUT, waking only to find himself staring way, way up at pornboy wrestling muscle monster BG East newcomer, Jeremy Tyler, in the BG East matroom. I’m not sure if Brad’s nursing a concussion, but he probably is, based on his complete defenselessness against Jeremy’s pounding, grinding, ominously slow onslaught. I’m dying to see the original footage to this match, because the camera fades in and out, I’m guessing capturing Brad’s own slippery hold on consciousness as he’s dismantled, demoralized, and finally forced to flex in complete submission. “Flex for me!” Jeremy snarls in his rumbling bass voice, ripping the shoulder straps of Brad’s singlet down and showing that his muscles are decisively bigger than the “legend’s.”

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The Boss grabs hold and gets ready to deliver on his promise to make sure Brad is truly fucked.

Brad comes too, once again back in the BG East ring, now cuffed into the ropes and at the mercy (like, when wasn’t he?) of Kid Leopard. There are lines that have not been crossed with Brad, as far as I can recollect. If someone is going to cross lines, however, it’s going to be The Boss. Brad is viciously controlled by a full throttle ball claw. He’s battered and beaten by the master himself, heel-in-chief, the man who defined “homoerotic wrestling heel” even more prototypically than Brad defined “homoerotic wrestling jobber.” The Boss squeezes those luscious melons of Brad’s glutes. He yanks, hard, on Brad’s trunks to deliver one of the most mouthwatering and anticipated wedgies in history.

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They call him The Boss for a reason!

The Boss suspends Brad like a trophy elk across the top turnbuckle, choking him with his belt in one hand and crushing Brad’s testicles with abandon in the other hand. Brad screams. Brad chokes. Brad coughs in that way that he has, communicating with ever inch of his body and breath that he’s on the edge of panic and annihilation. And though I’ve mentioned it before, I just need to say again, his wedgied ass is a work of art!

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The master’s tools…

KL kicks the babyface carcass out of the ring and looks ready to put him out and make Brad pay-up on those terms he “negotiated” earlier, when shockingly, the babyface turns the tables. Slipping on a face-smothering kiss-of-death, he catches The Boss by surprise. That’s right, babyface Brad latches on Kid Leopard’s own signature hold, outmuscling the Man. Jonny Firestorm walks into the ring room and is shocked to see KL nearly out cold, desperately waving Jonny over to intervene.  “Just walk away,” Brad snarls darkly at The Boss’ intimidated henchman. Jonny wavers, second guesses, but the fierce look on Brad’s face (and possibly Brad’s glorious physique flexed and clutching his prey like a boa), convince Jonny to obey… Brad!

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Where no wrestler’s lips have gone before…

The carnage is fucking epic! Brad quite literally and, no shit, honest to god in fact, nearly drowns Kid Leopard, first in his own bidet, and then in his own toilet. The living legend has had so much more than enough. He brutalizes the heel-in-chief like I’ve certainly never seen before, finally “forcing” Kid Leopard to kiss his beautiful ass (oh, please, Br’er Fox, don’t throw me into the briar patch), and finally, climactically, flexing and threatening him from behind, makes The Boss sign the “release clause” in the bane of his life for the past 8 years: the Contract.

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Brad Rochelle – HWOTM and career finale in Catalog 100?!

This entire DVD is a work of art. You know how much I love a well-told narrative, and the boys at BG East have pulled out all the stops to deliver a compelling, shocking, climactic story of revenge, retribution, reckoning, and, perhaps, redemption. Like I said, there are no unessential elements in this production, so naming Brad HWOTM is not to imply he got there on his own. However, he more than carries through on his part of the bargain, selling both wrestling domination, soul-wrenching suffering, and a rageful, righteous reckoning that ties together every sordid chapter in the Contract series. The finale of Brad’s Contract is a perfect bookend to its beginning. And based on that finale, I have to question whether I’ll ever have another chance to name Brad Rochelle HWOTM, considering he is literally soaking in the sun on the beach and laughing to himself about what KL must have in store for Jonny “Firefly” after his second-in-command walked away and left him to the babyface’s retribution.  All of my anticipation of Brad’s return, I’m certain, contributes to the undeniable fact that his work in Contract 10 turns me on unbelievably hard, even harder than several other matches released in September that would, in any other month, have been shoo-ins for victory.  So all hail the return of the living legend, and let me be first in line to offer to follow in The Boss’ footsteps and plant my lips on Brad’s beautiful ass. Because Brad Rochelle is neverland’s reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month!

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Brad’s beginning: Catalog 18!

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