Personally, I’m entirely supportive of Jake Jenkins developing a specialty in rookie wrecking. Sure, it seems like only yesterday the gorgeous quadruple threat (dazzling beauty, devastating mat skills, dangerous ring skills, and demolishing MMA moves) was starring in his own Ripped Rookies sweat bath match against friendly rival golden boy Austin Cooper. But there’s always been something seasoned and grounded about Jake’s confidence. It’s not as if Jake can’t compete with (hell, dominate!) in the deep end of the pool, but he sure looks like he’s never having more fun than when breaking in, breaking down, and humiliating a baby faced rookie. Now that it seems like he’s developed a taste for humbling and hurting beautiful newbies, I think Jake is really coming into his own. Take, for example, his total mastery of beautiful muscleboy Kip Sorell in BG East’s new release, Backyard Brawls 8.
First, a word about said rookie, Kip. Actually, I have a strong feeling that this will just be the first of many, many words to be said about Kip, because this heavenly body has an instant and irresistible gravitational pull. Let me start with the face, because if I start elsewhere, I’m likely to get too distracted to remember to mention that this kid has made-for-tv-movies Hollywood handsomeness that makes me count my lucky stars that he showed up on the doorstep of BG East. The leading man jawline, the button nose, the full eyebrows to compliment the shaggy mane of hair… it all adds up to Kip being an intoxicating mix of boy-next-door meets Chippendale dancer. I’ve got $10 for the first BG East wrestler to tongue wrestle this virginal slut (metaphorically speaking… about the “virginal slut,” not the $10!).
It’s Kip’s picture perfect physique that plays the starring role in the narrative of his Backyard Brawls 8 match. Even Jake gives the sculpted rookie credit as they approach the mats. “You look pretty big there,” the veteran acknowledges. “I have to admit, I’m a little scared to wrestle you.” There are two possible explanations for this stunningly self-deprecating maneuver from Jake. First, he’s genuinely scared. If I saw a specimen of muscle and conditioning like Kip coming at me aggressively, I’d probably be scared (oh, fuck that, I’d be full aroused and ready to grab hold with every appendage I’ve got). But the second possibility, the one I’m more inclined to believe, is that Jake is fucking with the kid’s head. If that’s the case, it works. Kip grins, a little embarrassed, struggling with a comeback, trying to gauge what an appropriate game face looks like when your opponent, who has the reputation for demolishing opponents, pays you an instant compliment. Not 20 seconds later, and Jake has the rookie pounded into the mat and screaming in agony. Yeah, right. Jake was really scared.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jake smile as much during a match as he does picking apart Kip’s mouthwatering carcass. “Yeah, you got all those muscles. Well, so do I. And mine look better!” Jake boasts. There are wrestling fans who would quibble with this proclamation. As for me, I’d worship Jake’s body morning, noon and night, but arguably, Kip Sorrel’s conditioning, size and raw strength are probably, objectively, superior. But when Kip is tied up like a pretzel, every joint getting ripped apart, screaming in agony, and his opponent is grinning from ear to ear, barely breathing hard, and flexing for the camera with his free arm (because it doesn’t even take him two hands), Kip is in no position to argue.
Sweet mother of god, Jake tortures the rookie with a command and expertise that’s like crack cocaine to a wrestling fanatic like me. Every lickable inch of the physique-star rookie is displayed by his tormentor for our delight. Kip spends an eternity, multiple times, getting his crotch ripped open wide, his taut hamstrings quivering, his trunks threatening to either rip apart at the seams or simply stretch past the point of fully covering up what they’re designed to cover. I think there’s got to be a market for a voyeur’s choice match, where a randy fan/blogger gets to step in at a moment like this and get his hands and lips all over the captured, helpless body being owned (write your favorite wrestling producer and recommend this!).
Jake gets cocky. Hell, Jake is cocky and backing it up from 3 seconds out of the starting gate, but there’s a particular moment when he’s leaning in a little too close, pausing just a little too long as he licks his lips trying to decide what method of corporal punishment to deliver to Kip next, when like a bear trap, the rookie’s thighs snap shut around the veteran’s head. Holy shit, watching Kip’s handsome face grow a sideways smirk in self-congratulations as he makes Jake suffer extremely long, and extremely hard, is astonishingly arousing! “Now I’m having all the fun,” Kip coos, flexing, stretching, doing push ups, and being an all around taunting bully. Those legs of his, taut, ripped, flexed like a bundle of steel cables, are unbelievable. Can you imagine how dangerous this kid could be with some training and experience!?
However, Kip Sorell lacks training and experience. And after milking out a humiliating submission with those phenomenal thighs, he makes the mistake of trying to rub it in with a crotch-in-your-face schoolboy pin 3-count. Now, I’d pay this stunner a healthy day’s wages to sit right there on my chest for hours on end, but Jake is not me. Like the monkey boy Kid Karisma knows that he is, Jake hooks the rook’s underarms with his feet and absolutely launches the kid flying several feet into the air and off of Jake’s chest. Kip is laughing, still slapping himself on that perfect v-shaped back for the submission, and either not noticing or not taking seriously just how pissed Jake is at the gratuitous post-submission humiliation. Rookies… (smh).
The banter in this bout is top notch, best I’ve ever heard from Jake. “Come on, scream just a little bit louder,” he demands, grinning ear to ear as he instantly has the rookie compromised again. “I’ll make you, dude! Come on, just two words, and it’s all over. You know the words!” Kip is a tough son of a bitch, and all of those fantastic muscles soak up a truly incredible quantity of punishment before he submits again. But he submits again, don’t doubt it for a second. “This is a lot easier than I thought it would be,” Jake snarls with contempt. “Hey, bro, why do you even work out? Just stay home!” Um… shut up Jake. The rook is entirely, vulnerably, pristinely perfect, just the way he is (trapped there, screaming between your lightly hairy thighs).
The initial playful respect and give and take give way to Jake unveiling a seriously sadistic side. He pins the ripped rookie again. He forces another submission. He drags him to his feet by that mop of pretty hair and then slams him back down at will, beating the air out of his lungs and last ounce of strength from those lovely muscles. “And to top it off, I don’t really like you too much!” Jake spits, sliding his dangerous legs around the rookie’s throat and slowly sliding them into place for an intimate, crotch-pillowed figure-4 sleeper. The smiling rookie leans over and shoves his tattooed right bicep in front of Kip’s dazed face. “That’s right. Struggle,” Jake taunts. “See that? That’s the last thing you’re going to see before you go to sleep.”
Jake Jenkins is a certified rookie wrecker, and he loves his job with a passion. The delight he takes in force-feeding the bulging pretty boy rookie the turf is simply awesome. The contortions he puts Kip Sorell through do the double duty of making the newbie scream and submit AND forcing Kip’s magnificent, muscled ass to repeatedly struggle free from being entirely contained by his sexy trunks. Jake does not win the $10 I’m offering for the first wrestler to apply a lip lock to Kip Sorell, but short of that, this is a picture perfect match. And Kip may not have won Jake’s respect, but holy hell, no one else is going to mistake the obvious truth that this kid can swallow mass quantities of punishment and keep coming back for more.