High Drama

Morgan Cruise is “looking for someone who can entertain both physically and erotically” in Muscle Domination Wrestling’s new release Gladiators. I instantly find myself irritated that the seductive tease of Damien Rush in a toga is window dressing.  Handsome stud Damien isn’t a combatant in this wrestle-erotic melodrama, damn it.  I forgive MDW, however, when I learn that masked Morgan’s co-star is none other than salt-and-pepper stud puppy Matt Thrasher who so captured my imagination in MDW’s last catalog release (and I mean RELEASE), Daddy’s Home.

Damien Rush has “treated and trained” his wares in precisely the physical and erotic arts that Morgan is looking for.

Mysterious Morgan is, in this ancient Roman period piece, in the market to buy a slave with skills both in physical combat and erotic pleasure.  Holy shit, I was born in the wrong era.  Damien’s brief role is as a purveyor of precisely the sort of man meat that Morgan is in the market to purchase.  At least Damien swears he has “treated and trained” his slaves in precisely the science and arts that masked Morgan is looking for, namely deadly combat and erotic pleasure.  Now that’s a training school I’d like to enroll in!

All hail the champion of the Colosseum, Marcus!

Enter “Marcus,” the barely clad gladiator who instantly catches Morgan’s eye.  Jumpin’ Jupiter, Matt Thrasher is a fine, fine looking man! Morgan clearly agrees with me.  “I saw what you did in the arena today,” Morgan says, licking his lips and examining Matt from head to toe.  Slapping his meaty right pec, Morgan concludes, “I think this package might work.”  Morgan commands “Marcus” to flex his mammoth biceps for him.  Obediently, the arena gladiator obeys, more than a little pride in his face as he shows off for his appreciative new owner.  “Nice,” masked Morgan mutters hungrily, palming the softball-sized biceps of his high quality property.

Morgan sizes up his new acquisition.

Morgan explains that he has purchased Marcus for the week to give as a present to the emperor, to float Morgan’s stock higher in the esteem and political machinations of the hardcore, conniving, flattering, favors-for-hire world of decadent modern day US ancient Rome.  You can just about see Marcus’ ego swelling, but sneering Morgan has to break the news to him that “you weren’t all that expensive.”  The gladiator’s inflated ego is bruised around the edges.  His pride flinches defensively. He’s irritated, both at the news and it’s deliverer.  Morgan’s sliding seductively underneath the skin of the hero of the Colosseum.  Marcus refuses to accept either his low stock price or his subservient position to his new owner. “At the end of the day,” Morgan announces, hands on hips, “you’re going to have to remember that I’m the master, and you’re the slave.”  They butt pecs, Marcus staring down from his height advantage into the eyes of his young deed holder. “I don’t think so,” the big stud mutters defiantly.

The gladiator has an ego proportionate to his bulging muscles.

Morgan commands the gladiator to strip out of his leather cock cover.  Marcus refuses. Morgan doesn’t exactly appear displeased when he announces, “I’m going to have to show you you’re fucking place.”  Erotically charged combat ensues, with the physically superior and arena-honed gladiator finding his hands more than full with the deceptively dangerous masked nobleman.

Now who’s the master!?

The pretense of Gladiator could turn some away. The backstory, the costumes, the slowly revealed backstory and subterfuges are considerably more involved than typical homoerotic wrestling fare. But I have to say that what could appear as pretentious completely sucks me in.  I’m always provoked most by the homoerotic wrestling matches than have a context, that tell a story.  That’s why I’m so often rattling my cage for a tournament, or a lovers’ tag team, or more through story tracking the adventures/misadventures of my favorite wrestlers across matches.  MDW has been working harder than most to invest in the drama and take seriously the context, giving us a lot of options that move well beyond just having two barely clad hunks climb into a ring and wordlessly go at it.  It takes imagination to suspend disbelief sufficiently to really immerse ourselves in the ritual of two hot studs battering each other in a wrestling ring. I’m happy and aroused to see MDW digging deeper into their own range and my imagination to construct a compelling, very hot scenario beyond just hottie Morgan Cruise and hottie Matt Thrasher throwing some wrestling moves together and then calling it a day.

Matt Thrasher is big and beautiful all over!

The drama in Gladiator appeals to me on many levels.  I hold a special place for contrasts, such as Matt towering over his shorter opponent, of Morgan mysteriously masked in front of his raw, naked, handsome conquest.  I particularly enjoy an age differential, particularly the way it’s stacked up in this scene with more mature musclestud Matt being physically bigger and more experienced than his upperclass tamer.  There are hills and valleys in the plot that make the destination just a little mysterious, making Gladiator something far from a phoned-in, contextless homoerotic wrestling feature.

Master Morgan begins to take full possession.

Dastardly Morgan overcomes the gladiator’s superior strength with a full on ball claw that drops the warrior to the mat. Matt becomes more compliant once he’s been stripped, his thick, meaty cock already flying at half mast. The flag runs all the way up the pole within seconds of the master giving Matt’s cock the appreciative attention is so richly deserves.  Morgan strokes and squeezes it. “Look at that,” Morgan coos, “looks like our gladiator is fucking pretty impressive!”  That’s right, Matt crows proudly, refueling his mojo with Morgan’s obvious appreciation.

Vertical head scissors with a cock claw chaser. Even when he’s on the bottom, Morgan’s on top!

MDW walks a fine line in Gladiator between their strictly domination fare and the wrestling that I particularly enjoy.  The psychological drama places this squarely in their muscle domination catalog, but there’s enough classic wrestling involved to keep me on board.  A test of strength, an OTK backbreaker with a cock claw topper, pec punching, bearhug, ass slapping body scissors… the recipe is complex enough to appeal to my palate, even after Matt loses all pretense that he doesn’t want to be conquered and fucked by his sexy new owner.

Morgan starts playing Matt’s hotly muscled body like a maestro.

Morgan plays Matt’s body like a concert cellist, stroking and strumming and plucking the big, handsome hunk into a quivering mass of muscled submission.  Working Matt’s nipples furiously from behind, forcing him to kiss his biceps, Morgan positions the bearded gladiator just right for us to watch Matt melt into nothing but a raging hard on getting stroked slowly, suspense rising harder and harder until the muscleman explodes, spread eagled in front of our eyes. “Yeah, oh, MASTER!” Matt groans adoringly even as he cums, his big pecs glistening with sweat.  The look on the gladiator’s face says it all. It wasn’t the exchange of denarii or a signature on a deed of ownership that made big Matt the prized possession of Morgan.  It was being physically and erotically conquered in the ring that binds him in obedience and gratitude to his handsome, hunky young master.

No one is unsatisfied with the new roles they now play.

Ancient Roman melodrama never looked so good!

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