Look at this,” Mutant flashes his gargantuan biceps. “I’m the best in the ring. Look at these arms!?” he marvels almost disbelievingly at his own magnificence. Mutant is, indeed, a marvel. There’s something almost too big about him, like he’s wearing an inflatable muscle suit. But time and time again, tested and not infrequently bested in the wrestling ring, we’ve seen abundant proof that everything about Mutant is grade A beef, ready to be tenderized and chewed up.
Of course a physique star who presumes to monologue that he’s “the best in the ring” is going to garner the attention of Muscle Domination Wrestling top heels, and there are none topper than Muscle Master Kevin himself. Kevin can be seen sliding into the ring quietly behind Mutant as the beefcake poses for the camera. Suddenly, Kevin slides his gloved hand across the muscle man’s mouth, pinching his nose, completely cutting off all sources of oxygen to feed his hungry mutant muscles. “Look at those arms, indeed,” Kevin smirks, smothering the stunned muscle stud and quickly making Mutant’s knees buckle. “Look at those muscles go nice and limp.” When I say Mutant goes out quickly, I mean really, really, quickly. Kevin says that he has “special gloves” guaranteed to make short order of a massive mountain of muscle like Mutant. Perhaps there’s a little chloroform on them, because Mutant drops like a sack of potatoes with astonishing speed. He’s out. Way out, and flat on his back with Kevin posing over top of him and trash talking like only MMK can.
Kevin impatiently urges Mutant to gather his wits about him as he rouses. “I want to see those cocky muscles deflate time and time again.” And that sentence, my friends, is the cliff notes to this match. If you want to see a mountain of muscle go limp over and over, Zzzz 4 is right up your alley. Kevin enjoys applying a half a dozen or more variations on sleepers and chokes, tipping giant Mutant over the edge of unconsciousness repeatedly. Like a cat playing with an all-but-dead mouse, MMK exercises complete control of his prey for his (and our) sadistic delight.
The payoff for wrestling fans isn’t just the repeated sleepers, though I know plenty of homoerotic wrestling fans with a special kink for watching that money shot of a powerful gladiator going limp and helpless. For my money, I also enjoy the humiliation of watching Kevin exploit his often slowly rousing, sometimes still completely out cold “opponent,” applying vicious holds, dragging the barely clad beauty across the ring, hanging him like drapes from the ropes. It’s not like a full nelson or a kneeling surfboard are technically “offense” in this scenario, because Mutant is toast from start to finish. He’s not being “worn down” by these brutal, joint wrenching, soul crushingly painful manipulations of his magnificent body. It’s just gravy, with MMK milking the muscle exploitation theme for every ounce of homoerotic wrestling nutrition you’re hungering for.
I have one buyer beware caution, and one catty bitch complaint to level, because Zzzz 4 does a whole lot for me, but there are a couple of distractions. First my word of caution. If one-sided muscle squashes leave you limp, this, like most of MMK’s matches, are not your cup of tea. There are moments when the extremely up-close camera work here catches Mutant looking a little less like he’s dazed and a little more like he’s a little bored with his sorry lot in this match. Honestly, when was the last time Kevin was on camera in even the slightest jeopardy? I think his parallel industries of muscle domination kink and muscle domination wrestling kink seriously limit what Kevin can offer wrestling fans, because he seems constitutionally self-prohibited from being at risk on camera. I pretty much get it. Before he was wresting, Kevin was seducing hardcore fanatics of being dominated by a blue eyed babyfaced muscle god with (literally) in your face psychological and physical intimidation. His bread and butter has long been stroking the kink of those who want to be dominated by him, who want to be conquered by his bulging muscles and torrent of trash talk, who are slack-jawed betas to his persistent “alpha dog” performance art. I have to imagine it could damage the brand in that arena for fans to see him lose, hell, even suffer a little in the wrestling ring. So yeah, I get it. MMK on offense, in total control, dominating and destroying and taking full possession of a magnificent muscle specimen is part of the entire MMK empire. But you know me, and I know at least some of you, so if you’ve been waiting for MDW and MMK in particular to wade deeper into the drama of wrestling competition storytelling, keep waiting.
And I feel like I’m being bitchy when I say for the second time in a handful of weeks that there’s a major gear fail that’s distracting me. It’s not the barely there leopard print jock strap that Mutant is bulging out of, of course. It’s the not-so-tighty off-whities that Kevin has donned for this match. They’re gathered, elasticized, built for sucking tight to a hot bod like designer briefs do. The only problem is that they’re a size too big for Kevin. They sag in all the wrong places. Kevin has undergone some impressive muscle reformation in the past year of so, so perhaps this is symptom of his wardrobe still catching up to his redistribution of muscle and mass. But these briefs give the unfortunate (and false) impression that Kevin has no ass, and the bunching and gathering at the legs cast an illusion that his hunky, hairy thighs are somehow skinny and underdeveloped. Let me reiterate here, before MMK fans grab their pitchforks (too late, I’m sure), that I adore Kevin’s body. I’ve offered to suck Kev’s mouthwatering nipples raw and worship his bulges and peaks for days, and to his credit, Kevin confirmed that if a certain blogger ever found his way into his ring, he might just have to make that happen. So I am not complaining about anything at all about Kevin’s hot, bulging body. It’s just those fucking briefs!
Like your cat, Kevin lays his conquered prey out and proudly displays for you, his fanatical audience, the prize. Mutant is, indeed, a sight for sore eyes, all of that superhuman muscle brutalized, owned, and defenseless at Kevin’s feet. And clearly there’s not been nearly enough of a neverland reader campaign to demand that blogger muscle worship session that Kevin teased when I interviewed him a couple of years ago. As is so often the case, this MDW new release doesn’t do everything for me, but it does do some things very well. Now, let’s burn those fucking briefs and get MMK a (blogger) stylist.