I think my favorite homoerotic wrestling superheroes are Power-Pecs and Flex from Eye of the Cyclone. Both sizzling hot superstuds have gone through “transformations” (shall we say), being reincarnated by different model/actors in the tradition of so many superhero franchises.  And both babyface beefcakes have been brought back from the dead, thank the homoerotic wrestling gods, to titillate fans who are never satisfied with an unhappy superhunk ending.

The newest return from the dead features Power-Pecs, who managed to thwart evil villain Cobra’s diabolical master plan in the issue “Sometimes They Come Back,” but only at the cost of his own life. It was one of those agonizing, deeply unsatisfying martyr climaxes, as gorgeous Power-Pecs let himself be killed in service to humanity. His phenomenal physique stripped, that huge lead pipe he swings hanging lifeless, the death of Power-Pecs was a bitter pill for his fans to swallow.

But this is a comic book plot. EotC got the beautiful blond beefcake model/actor back on the payroll for another go at the iconic character, with his super-geneticist doc finding a bit of body fluids on the fallen hero’s gear to clone a new, perfectly equally sensationally sexy superhero back to full form.

The newest chapter in “The Clone Arranger” has the handsy doc needing to check out how perfectly he managed to replicate every inch of Power-Pecs, because I’m sure he knows fans like I am would throw a fit if there’s even a hair out of place or an ounce of muscle mass difference in the Power-Pecs we’ve grown to know and adore.

Happily, everything about Power-Pecs, every last, luscious, mouthwatering inch of him is in place. You know that fantasy of the fabulously hot muscle hunk who’s tamed into compliantly allowing a mere mortal to feel, handle, and document every fabulous bulge? Yeah, this chapter of “The Clone Arranger” hits those notes fabulously.

A less kind critique than I might knock the doc for being a bit too thorough in his examination. I’m sure there’s a harsh commentary on the objectification of the male body in there somewhere, a dangerous social signal of the decline of humanity in the perverse pleasure I take in the calculated, domineering measuring the geneticist engages in, reducing Power-Pecs to just the sum of his sensational body body parts.

But somehow any social critique and critical self-reflection I might ought to embrace flies out the window the moment Power-Pec obediently drops the sheet and the doc kneels down with a tape measure to assess the size and scope of this supersexy cock. I am a shallow, predictable man, aren’t I?  Shut up and don’t answer that. I’m busy zooming in on that last pic.

The implication is that doc has brought Power-Pecs back from the dead to get that fine, fine ass back into action defending the innocent and the good. So this detailed physical exam is merely a salacious diversion from the heart of my kink, watching a hunk like Power-Pecs wrestle.

This week’s chapter of “The Clone Arranger” ends by squeezing all of those gorgeous, bronzed muscles into an N2N wrestling singlet a size too small. Power-Pecs punches the heavy bag, reminding his clone muscles of what this sensational bod is re-built for. The plot points thus far in this issue are few, so I’m hoping that there’s a hunktastic sparring partner in Power-Pecs near future to really show what that superhot physique can do when tested in pec-to-pec combat. And if there’s a homoerotic wrestling god out there listening, that sparring partner will be as turned on by the prospect of winning control of this newbie-all-over-again beef steak. …TO BE CONTINUED…