Tug on Superman’s Cape

Damien Rush has never been less able to squeeze his bulging muscles inside this suit!

“Riddle me this, Super Stud: what is black and green and in your gut?” Simple, naive, gullible as shit Super Stud is stumped. He looks inward, trying to solve the riddle. Riddle Man relieves the suspense by driving his black and green walking stick viciously into the super hero’s rippled abs.


How in the fuck could adorable, skinny little red-headed rookie Charlie Evans Riddle Man possibly execute a salacious squash all over incredibly built, bigger and bigger every time we see him, Damien Rush Super Stud? A kryptonite plated walking stick, kiddies. That’s what levels the playing field, or, more accurately, levels the luscious man of steel, Super Stud.

Damien’s is big, but Charlie’s stick is bigger!

Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Super Men 4.4  is a perfect stocking stuffer for the homoerotic wrestling fan with a twink’s revenge fantasy deep inside. The contrast of skinny, snarling Charlie and magnificently muscled Damien is an enticing hook. Charlie’s green and orange tights hang loosely off his thin frame. This was also Bryce’s costume as Aqua Bryce, but I’m suspecting the Mastodon may have been the last MDW wrestler to squeeze is massive muscles into those tights before tossing them over to the lightweight rookie, because the ass sags halfway to Charlie’s knees without the prominent shelf and shapely glutes of the bigger boys at MDW to fill it out. In contrast, that same Super Stud suit we’ve seen Damien wear on multiple occasions has never fit tighter, never sucked into every crevice and stretch across so many mountainous bulges as it does in 4.4. Literally, Damien can no longer zip the lycra suit up all the way because his gargantuan shoulders and huge pecs can no longer be contained! There’s something extravagant and overcompensating about the suction packed super suit that makes the drapes and pleats of Charlie’s sagging tights seem somehow hungrier, more dangerous, more ripe with arousing potential for the brainiac high school nerd to get sweet, sweet satisfaction from the suffering letterman.


Hot jock laid waste!

I’m sure I’m simply a sick puppy for getting turned on by the scene in Rob Zombie’s Halloween when the kid version of Michael Myers gets revenge for getting bullied at school by ambushing his bigger tormentor in the woods and beating the shit out of him (literally) with a tree branch. Yeah, that’s just fucked up, I realize, but I’m just being honest. I took my fair share of bullying torment as a skinny academic all star, so I’m sure it says everything about me that I’ve got a hair trigger for the twink’s revenge narrative in 4.4.

Charlie digs deep for this one.

But unlike Michael Myers, Charlie Evans has more on his mind than homicidal brutality. He mercilessly taunts the bulging super hero as he pounds his kryptonited cane into Damien’s very prominent pouch. “I don’t think your super crotch here has seen enough action,” Charlie gloats. Not nearly satisfied enough, he dives in and wraps the fingers of his right hand around Damien’s mountainous crotch, squeezing, manipulating, crushing the nearly comically virile hunk into a writhing, impotent pile of meat.

Charlie lords it over his magnificently muscled prey.

Like the vicious twink avatar he is, Charlie doesn’t just drive home the blunt end of his walking stick, he drives him the utter humiliation that all those gorgeous, lovingly sculpted muscles are completely useless.  The jock’s pride and joy, his never fail cocktease physique is laid to ruin by a lightweight 4 inches shorter and, according to their wrestler profiles, 70 pounds lighter.

Things to come, Super Stud. Things to come.

Things really start to turn sexy when Charlie pounds the end of his walking stick into Damien’s fabulously meaty glutes. “Time to soften you up before I get a little touchy-feely.  I don’t know which is more fun,” Charlie chuckles. “Your front, or your back.” As I’m screaming at the screen “his ASS!!!” Charlie rolls the writhing hunk to his stomach and digs his fingertips into those meaty, shrink wrapped glutes. “I can work with this, I think,” Charlie says appreciatively. “This will be a lot of fun to play with!” He grabs both cheeks and shakes the meat enthusiastically. “I’m going to have a blast back here!” he promises.

“This will be a lot of fun to play with!”

“You might look pretty bad, but you feel pretty nice!” Charlie coos, getting good and handsy feeling up Damien’s sweetly suffering muscles. “You’re going to be my slave!” the twink on a rampage promises.

“You’re going to be my slave!”

As is the norm at MDW, this is a squash, and other than ball claws, stomping, and assault with a blunt weapon, there’s not a strong reference to professional wrestling in the narrative. It’s a domination match, through and through, and setting my imagination into overdrive for what a skinny, horny, vengeful nerd might do with a battered, conquered, and sleepered jock tormentor at his mercy, Super Men 4.4 scratches an itch for me right.  “And now you’re mine to play with…”

“And now, you’re mine to play with…”

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