The first match on BG East’s new Florida Fights 5 compilations stars 2 friends of this blog, Ty Alexander and Mason Brooks. Well, let’s get real. The stars of this match are Ty’s bubble butt and Mason’s magnificent pecs topped off perfectly by his luscious nipples. At least, those are the elements that invariably hold my attention when either of these beautiful boys wrestles, and once again, that ass and those nips do not disappoint.
Frankly, honestly, I was marginally skeptical when I pushed play. For one thing, Mason is a standout mat wrestler with sensational amateur wrestling credibility, but we’ve never seen him set foot in a ring before. Translating mat excellence to ring success is tough (just ask beefy newbie Adam Atom). More than just tough when it comes to tallying victories, it’s tough for a lot of guys to adapt to the geography and scale of the ring. Engaging ring action is 3 dimensional, with as much drama and sell happening on their feet and in the air as on the mat. It demands more movement than the tight confines of, say, the Wrestle Shack or the BG East mat room. If everything happened scrambling on hands and knees in the middle of the ring, I’d think of it as a waste of a ring. And particularly a waste of ring ropes, turnbuckles, and that sensational liminal space just beyond the ropes where audacity and lawlessness exponentiate the potential of a ring match into those homoerotically thrilling elements of psychological domination, humiliation, and sadistic brutality. Of course, Ty’s been learning the ropes of ring wrestling since his debut with BG East, quickly turning into a very popular jobber with a beautiful booty and a sensational sell. But pitting him against a ring virgin like Mason could have produced a disappointing mismatch in both the sell and the exploitation of all that ring wrestling can offer to a homoerotically turned eye like mine.
And then Mason does what Mason does, and I’m instantly so fucking into him! Of the things that I love about Mason, his sharpness has got to be at the top of the list. Well, right underneath his nipples. But that smirk and his Philosophy 404 approach to mat banter and taunts turn me on so damn delightfully. By all rights, Ty should be the upperclassman here. And he tries to pull out the thump-the-newbie card as the match unfolds, “teaching” Mason a collar and elbow start. But someone, and I’m guessing his initials are “KL,” has clearly been tutoring Mason in making the jump into the ring smooth as silk, and there’s just no denying the hot, heart pumping delight of Mason hazing the fuck out of his slack jawed, beautifully assed opponent.
“The Boss tells me that I should give you a work out in the ring,” Mason explains when Ty is perplexed to find this mat expert perched atop a turnbuckle waiting for him. “Wait, did he say ‘work out,’ or ‘work over?'” Mason smirks, hopping off the turnbuckle and approaching the notorious jobber. Ty’s assets are both obvious and easily underestimated. If you follow him on Facebook, you know that he’s been on a terror lately to build muscle mass, to increase his stamina, to button down his smooth core in order to be taken more seriously in the ring. He’s so pretty, it’s little wonder he’s been feeling the need to square off some of his round edges a bit. But his fans love him because he wrestles all in. He’s thrown his body fearlessly in the way of seasoned heels twice Mason’s size, and he suffers with that authenticity that grabs you by the base of the balls. Yeah, fans love the smooth, pretty preppy crushed and spoiled. And his ass. Fans really love that ass.
There’s a little narrative around Mason demonstrating he can spank that ass at will with classic amateur wrestling, inspiring a pissed off Ty to challenge the ring virgin to wrestle like a pro. The moment Mason bounces off the ropes and nearly rips Ty’s pretty head off his neck with a full speed clothesline, it’s clear that although Mason may be a ring virgin, he’s well lubed.
My favorite exchange in the epiphany of Mason completely owning the ring and his opponent’s ass is when Ty is spitting mad with his arms tied up in the ring ropes. Mason takes his time, which could just be that novice need to think it through, but manages to turn the simmer up to a roiling boil in my crotch. He punches Ty’s gut, checking out how that fitness regimen is coming along. Along the way, he tugs heartily at Ty’s red trunks to multiply the impact of his fists pounding viciously into the kid’s gut. Fuck, I love the trunk pull gut punch. Fuck, I love that Mason picks that up like he’s been tying chumps in the ropes and yanking on their trunks for decades.
But then Mason shoves his mouthwatering (literally, I’m wiping drool from the corners of my mouth just writing about it right now) pecs in Ty’s face and smacks down some super sweet muscle domination. “What do you think of my chest?” he asks. I don’t think Ty answers him, but I can’t be entirely sure because I’m shouting at the screen, “I fucking love your chest, Mason!” Soaked in sweat, he humiliatingly drags Ty’s pretty face back and forth across his beautiful pecs. “Do you want a chest like mine?” Mason asks the would be gym bunny. Ty is impotently furious, tied up and forced to be Mason’s plaything. The only thing that could make this moment hotter would have been for Ty to have been forced to suck on one of those priceless doubloons Mason calls his nipples.
There’s a sensation pairing here of Mason’s unhurried, scientific sadism and Ty’s increasingly unhinged, panicked agony. As we’ve seen in his mat work, Mason is chill even as sweat pours down the crevasse between his worship-worthy pecs. How is it possible I can’t find a vial of that perspiration on eBay? There’s a calmness about him that compliments his relentless, savage torture to perfection. But as any fan knows, it takes a bitter, frustrated, increasingly terrorized until finally screaming in agony and complete submission sort of opponent to truly exploit the homoeroticism of this type of match. Ty is losing his shit even as Mason is beating it out of him with total control and fabulous presence.
There’s a sleeper to seal the deal, but before that is my second favorite moment in this match, when Mason hoists his toy across his shoulders and parades Ty around the ring. I don’t know if Mason thinks of the rack as his signature hold, but I’m beginning to. It shows off everything that’s so right about Mason’s body, while driving home that most homoerotic of plot points, signaling that one ambitious young hunk is now completely under the control and at the mercy of his opponent. Mason’s sweet pecs glistening with sweat. His dapper dan haircut matted across his forehead. Ty’s bronzed body hanging limply, his arms bobbing up and down as Mason shifts his weight from foot to foot. It’s not quite as tasty as the same maneuver applied to Drake Marcos when both studs were stripped naked in Passion & Punishment. But the same hold set within the context of the pro wrestling ring is definite value added for me.
What I’m left with at the end of this match, other than an empty water bottle and a hot shower, are two things. First, we know for a fact that young Ty, while a phenomenal jobber, can at least at moments hold his own in the ring. I hope we see Ty in fewer squashes, against more opponents with whom he can show off what those meaty thighs can do and that boatload of brutal beatings has taught him. Second, there will remain a shadowed corner of sadness in my soul until I get to see Mason Brooks climb back in the wrestling ring and continue to live into the sensational, personality-forward wrestling character he embodies who has never shined quite so bright as when he was surrounded by ring ropes.