Regular readers know that my infatuation with Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) and his bulge know no bounds.  I’ve long muttered that I wish I knew how to quit him, because he’s a horribly cruel tease. But the moment I see that there’s a new Mr. Joshua release, I salivate uncontrollably and start obsessing all over again.  So I was thus already entirely physiologically aroused when I sat down to slurp up Tag Team Torture 18: 2 on 1.

The “2” are similarly slurp-able Braden Charron and Brad Barnes. Braden has recently emerged from jobberhood as an increasingly dangerous ring veteran. He’s still full of attitude, but these days he actually has a lot more than just looking pretty to back it up.  Brad seems appreciative as hell to learn at the feet of seasoned Braden, as the two quickly and effectively establish their characters as muscle master and obedient apprentice.

When Joshua shows up dressed in badboy black and announcing his tag team partner has stood him up, B&B can’t quite believe that Mr. J has decided to take them both on singlehandedly. Joshua doesn’t seemed concerned about his odds.  Atypically, he’s checked out the competitions’ resumes and seen them both repeatedly manhandled. He doesn’t seem to have noticed Braden’s more recent graduation to the ranks of the serious competitors, though. Too much Mr. J arrogance? Or does he know something about the B&B boys that evens the score?

Mr. Joshua joins the long line of BG East badboys who have sunk their claws deep into Brad Barnes and made all of his mouthwatering muscles melt in agony.  He OWNS musclestud Brad beautifully! Perhaps J’s strategy is simply to pick the muscle jobber clean and never allow badass Braden a moment to intervene.  If he can manage that, I totally believe the odds have tilted in his favor.

Soaring on top, Mr. Joshua gets cocky (I know, that’s redundant).  He taunts Braden who, as a competitive face, has to watch helplessly from the ring apron as his muscleboy partner is completely humiliated. J flaunts his domination of crumbling Brad, pointing out to worrying Braden exactly where team B&B’s achilles heel lies (somewhere between Brad’s ears). J provokes and preens the fresh muscle master, riling him up and daring Braden to take a dip on the dark side and fuck the rules.

You knew it. I knew it. Mr. Joshua’s overconfidence would come back to bite him in his gorgeously muscled ass (sign me up for that job!). Brad tags in his muscle master partner. Braden demonstrates to J that he’s no longer the infinitely crushable muscle jobber he was in days gone by. He out hustles and outmuscles Joshua with total command, seriously stroking my homoerotic kink by revisiting upon J revenge torture for pretty much each and every humiliating maneuver that Joshua had subjected Brad to. How dare you hurt my partner, the subtext screams. Now I’m going to teach you a lesson for making my baby boy cry!

Brad grows visibly excited on the ring apron watching his muscle master take control and defend his honor. Taking in the sight of his muscle daddy beating up his bully, the muscleboy literally bounces on the balls of his feet, pleading to get tagged in to savor the moment of making cocky Mr. J submit. Braden’s got J trussed up gorgeously in an abdominal stretch, millimeters away from wringing Joshua dry.  He shakes his head, clearly pissed that earnest Brad is pleading to give up a sure thing in order to wrench revenge out of his bully’s battered body.  Braden is an indulgent muscle daddy, however. Against his better judgment, he tags Brad in.

Brad quickly, just a little awkwardly wraps Mr. Joshua’s aching body back up into an abdominal stretch.  But his center of gravity is too far forward. He doesn’t quite stretch Mr. J out to the limit.  Braden tries to coach him into position from the corner, but Joshua is obviously catching his breath in Brad’s clumsy control.  Brad struggles to nail the submission hold down when abruptly J flexes those stunning abs, twisting forward, pulling the jobber off balance and flipping him over, slamming him to his back. Brad’s blown it!

If Mr. Joshua was cocky before, if he was taunting and shaming-by-association Braden before, he’s out of control now.  Brad is putty in J’s hands. Joshua scolds Braden for letting his muscleboy suck him into such a rookie mistake.

As long as everyone is playing by the rules, with Mr. J staying on message by neutralizing Braden by monopolizing Brad, he’s got this all wrapped up.  But this is Mr. Joshua, and self-restraint is not his strong suit.  He both provokes Braden a step too far and completely unnecessarily cheats in his possession of withering Brad.  Faces B&B hear the dinner bell ring when Joshua signals that the rules are out the window.

Here’s where the most epic promise of this match is realized. Mr. Joshua is absolutely brutalized in a muscle bashing double team. The visuals here are simply stunning. Joshua is completely overwhelmed under two mountains of muscles bearing down on him. B&B toss him back and forth, both muscle daddy and his boy staying perfectly fresh even as Joshua is wearing down to pieces.

Mr. Joshua is nothing but B&B’s plaything as they trade him back and forth in bear hugs. Mr. J’s legendarily dangerous muscle physique clad in badboy black suffers with the majesty of a mighty predator-turned-hunted.

When B&B turn Mr. Joshua into deli meat in the middle of their muscleboy sandwich, I’m thinking that this has become a game changer in Mr. J’s career arc. Mr. J has suffered before.  He’s been crushed by some of the best. But squeezed like jelly between two of the prettiest wrestlers to have jobbed for BG East, Joshua’s humiliation has never been more poignant.

The crushing of Mr. Joshua is complete.  B&B are delighted with themselves as they soak in the sight of the notorious badboy turned into their bitch. Brad, in particular, is intoxicated, bouncing for joy and luxuriating in flexing over the once mighty king of the ring. The Best Bulge winner two years running is an impotent puddle on the mat, not just outmuscled, but outmuscled by a pair of pretty boy jobbers-no-more. I’m smelling fresh meat, and if I know the ranks of ambitious young BG East wrestlers (and I do), I’m certain I’m not the only one. Mr. J’s hot ass and massive, pendulous, legendary package have got a pair of bullseyes painted on them.

And I for one am THRILLED!