Called Out

When I started blogging nearly 8 years ago, I had no idea it would come to this. There are a few moving parts to this little melodrama being played out in my life, so bear with me as I write some expository to try to set up the remarkable circumstances within which I find myself. I know that you’re used to me writing homoerotic wrestling fiction, but at the risk of ripping off the Cohen Brothers, let me just assure you that while I have skipped over some of the more trivial points in the story, the rest of what I’m about to tell you is described exactly as it occurred.

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The Classic, man-of-my-dreams, Scott Williams

First of all, as I say often, I have my favorites. Even casual readers can name the hunks who reliably, predictably, inevitably get me hard every time I watch them in action.  From Chris Cuomo to Mitch Colby to Rusty Stevens, there are a few names that recur with such frequency on these pages that I’ve been known to provoke irritation from some readers who tire of my infatuations. However, as I also say often, this blog has always been about me, so suck it up or move on. One of my longstanding fan infatuations that I’ve held for long before I started blogging is for The Classic, Scott Williams.

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Milking the fight of opponents for years

I swoon every time I watch Scott snap on headscissors, flex his glutes, and press his hips forward, threatening to crush some lucky son of a bitch’s skull. In an interview I did with another classic infatuation, Shane McCall, I referred to Scott as “the man of my dreams.”  It’s not an exaggeration. Scott’s devastatingly handsome hotness has always made him fantasyman material for me. Everything about him makes me weak in the knees. The square jaw, the bald head, the ripped muscles, the scorching intensity. His published work for BG East is comprised of merely 4 matches, and yet his presence in my homoerotic wrestling infatuations is so much more huge than that. When I recently learned that Scott still wrestles privately and in custom matches arranged through Jonny Firestorm, I started saving pennies immediately for another chance to crush on Scott’s hotness. I’m still saving (it takes a lot more pennies than I typically have on hand), but in the mean time, I regularly sift through the social media feeds of other wrestlers that I know also do similar work for Jonny, panning for that priceless glimpse of Scott’s gorgeous, hairy pecs.

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The Cheshire Cat, Drake Marcos

Now, let me shift my attention just a little, with the promise that, I swear, these various subplots will all collide before this post is done with. Another familiar infatuation that readers know well is my fandom for The Cheshire Cat, Drake Marcos. I was crushing on Drake’s handsome hotness since, literally, before I ever saw him wrestle. About four and a half years ago, Kid Karisma smuggled some behind the scenes snaps out of a BG East shoot. This was before The Boss started requiring non-disclosure agreements and my sources of up and coming BGE gosssip dried up, except for my very deeply embedded, super secret smuggler of back stage pic, known to me only as OMI (our man inside). In any case, I was already groovin’ on a candid, fully clothed shot of Drake at his very first BG East taping, before we even knew his name.  My fan relationship with the Cheshire Cat has taken several abrupt and unexpected turns. Drake reached out to me, turning up the charm even before his first match was released. Every time he wrestles, I repeatedly get off on his intensely erotic approach to the genre. I was thrilled to get to do a tandem interview with both Drake and Mason Brooks, soon after Mason crushed the Cheshire Cat like grapes and laid formal claim to his ass in Passion and Punishment 1. In that interview, in my sincerest effort to applaud Drake for looking so delicious getting pounded to pulp, he took umbrage at me suggesting that he’s an outstanding jobber. Words were spoken. Challenges made. And about 10 months later, there I was, getting a tour of BG East’s South Campus from none other than Drake.

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The end of Blogger vs. Wrestler

The tour was capped off with a settling of that brewing tension between us. Having no pro wrestling experience, I was unceremoniously tossed into the ring by my tour guide and worked over harshly, with that handsome, taunting grin beaming down at me every step of the way. Well, the grin sort of disappeared around the time that this “mere blogger” strung his tasty little meat sandwich up in the ropes, and then exploited his vulnerability in a tree of woe. And then stripped him naked, laid out flat on his back in the middle of the ring, snapping pics to document the priceless moment. There’ve been more words. Accusations of cheating and presenting “alternative facts.” I think Drake has simmered back down and finally acknowledges that in this blogger vs. wrestler battle, he was, in the end, my compliant plaything. I still pop my cork just knowing when there’s a new Drake match out (like now, so watch for my review of X-Fights 42).

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The Trophy Boy Ty Alexander

And now, for the 3rd tine of this complicated fork, let me just remind you of my ongoing enjoyment when watching the homoerotic wrestling career of Ty Alexander. Like Drake, my fandom for Ty began before we even got to see him wrestle. An OMI snap captured Ty’s hotness when he was all promise and potential and anticipation. In the intervening 3 years, the Trophy Boy has made quite a name for himself, owning social media, selling his sensational brand of fashion-forward wrestling narcissism, and managing to snag the Jobber of the Year title while demonstrating repeatedly that he is no pushover.

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Ty demands respect for his ass

And so here’s where all three of these strands of story start to entwine. I had the temerity to let it be known that I did not vote for Ty to win the Best Butt title this year. Regular readers were completely unsurprised that I, once again, threw my full support behind Kid Karisma’s behind. For some reason, this provoked Ty to take aim at making me pay for my “mistake” … corporally. I’ve since received challenges from Ty to face him in the ring, so that he can work out his frustrations all over my body. He’s promised to beat my blogger ass for the perceived slight toward his.

At first, I didn’t take this all that seriously. This is Ty Alexander, we’re talking about. Jobber of the Year. When a notorious jobber tries to pick a fight, it’s just because he’s aching to get owned, right? It’s not like I need to jump when Ty snaps his fingers, because a young stud as gagging to be dominated as Ty is in 90% of his matches is surely going to still be on the line whenever I get around to pick up. Right?

Well, the whole surprising heat from the Trophy Boy took a sudden and unexpected turn for the dark side about a week ago. I got a notice that I had a video from him waiting for me in my inbox. Now, Ty has sent me (and I’m not exaggerating), hundreds of pics and clips of him. He knows I like the look of his body, and he’s every bit the narcissist to get off on knowing it, so he scratches both of our itches. Often. So I clicked on this latest video expecting to see him showing off his 2nd place ass in the tanning both or in the gym locker room again. But no. This was unlike anything I’ve ever received before.

It was Ty, mounted across Scott Williams’ back, wrenching the man of my dreams in a totally fucked up, nasty ass, vile as shit camel clutch. Of course, my dick snapped to attention immediately. I thought, for a brief moment, this was just a little stolen snippet from another Jonny custom bout. But again, no. Ty was shoving Scott’s gorgeous face (mostly covered by Ty’s hands) into the camera and sending a very personal, very specific message, to no one else but me.

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Ty dangles Scott’s ripped body in front of me

“Hey Bard,” Ty says, like we were old chums picking up in the middle of a conversation we’ve had for years. “I just wanted to show you our friend, Mr. Scott in my camel clutch.” Uuuuuuuugh, Scott groans in obvious pain, Fuck you!, he snarls furiously, wailing and choking on the torture. There in a pro ring somewhere. “This is what’s in store when you face me, when you finally man up,” Ty continues, staring at the camera and smiling even as he wrenches that much harder on Scott’s neck, making The Classic whimper.

Fuck you, fuck you, shut the fuck up! Scott shouts, his voice muffled through Ty’s hands clamped around his leading man chin. “Last time I checked,” Ty smirks, “I pretty much fucked him today. Are you going to give now, Scott?” Fuck you, you fucking fuck, God damn it! Scott wails. Ty pulls back on his neck another 3 inches and Scott’s voice rises about 10 decibels and half an octave, God damn it, God damn it! No, fuck off!!!!  “Give!” Ty demands cooly, almost quietly, leaning back another 2 inches. I GIVE, YOU FUCKER! Scott screams in exquisite agony.

“Sorry, Bard,” Ty says to me, staring into the camera as he climbs off, revealing he’s been working that vicious camel clutch on Scott’s entirely naked ass. “Just look what’s in store when you finally face me,” Ty concludes, stretching out on top of Scott’s muscled back.

At this point, let me pause the narrative to make a couple of points. First of all, no. I won’t post the video. One reason is that I don’t have permission from all parties involved to publish it further. But an even bigger reason is that I am a greedy fucker, and knowing that this steaming hot 60 second vignette was made for my eyes only has made me get off on it repeatedly in the past week or so, and I’m savoring it as my own, my precious.

But further, can I just say what a mind fuck it is to watch Scott Williams, the man of my dreams, one of my longest standing homoerotic wrestling infatuations, get punished for no other reason than the fact that Ty knows I crush like crazy on Scott!? Scott’s whimpers and wails, his bald head flushing beet red, his bitter, tortured, agonizing profanity and naked humiliation have occurred for one reason only: for Ty to get at me.

So, there’s that. Fuck me sideways, this has got to be the sexiest call out in the history of professional wrestling. Well, it was the sexiest call out until just yesterday when I found a second video in my inbox.

This one is 3 minutes long. As it opens, Ty (completely naked) is climbing onto a hot, naked ass belonging to someone lying face down on a bed in front of the camera. Ty grabs this lucky loser by the hair and wrenches his face up and toward the camera, so that I can see…. that it’s Drake Marcos.

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Similar shot from their Babyface Brawl X, though Drake wasn’t enjoying it this time at all

“Hey Bard,” Ty chats with me again through the camera. “I just put Drake through the ringer. I’ve kind of owed him a little bit of a beatdown for a while, because of all the shit he talks about me.” Ty muscles Drake into a camel clutch, again shoving his prey’s agony-contorted face into the camera for me to watch up close.  Drake is wailing like a wounded animal. Ty suddenly drops him and flings him to his back, saddling up naked on Drake’s gut and throttling his throat with both hands. The Cheshire Cat is choking and spitting and struggling to shove Ty away, but Ty grabs my boy’s wrists and pins them to the bed.

“I think it’s time to finish up little Drake here,” Ty says, leaning back. Drake immediately lands a cracking punch to Ty’s left pec.  A half second later, Ty slaps the fuck out of Drake’s face. I mean, fuck, it hurts just watching it! Then Ty stretches across Drake’s chest and wraps him up in a Kiss of Death, locking down a sleeper while smothering Drake’s mouth and nose to speed things up. Drake flails and bucks in a panic. Ty just keeps riding until his mount goes limp underneath him.

“See Bard, you’re missing out on all of the fun here,” Ty smirks into the camera. “So I hope you’re ready for whatever’s going to come Drake’s way, ’cause I’ll just do the same to you whenever I wrestle you.”

So, I’m both titillated beyond belief to see if a new ransom video shows up in my inbox, and a little worried for all of the favorite wrestlers I’ve gushed about over the years (Mitch, Mason, Brad, Kayden, Rusty… watch your backs!). I had no idea Jobber of the Year Ty had this level of sadistic cunning. He’s picking off my favorites, one by one, and video documenting their humiliation as a means of provoking me to accept his challenge and show up for Blogger vs. Wrestler, The Sequel. There’s something downright diabolical about it. It manages to inspire adolescent rescue fantasies, me the superhero breaking down the door to save the day for these hot slices of beefcake getting stacked like cordwood by this supervillain. And, on the other hand, it piques my curiosity as to just how far the Trophy Boy will take this, and will he dig himself in too deep and bite off more than he can chew before I’ve finally had enough and show up to redeem the heartthrobs whose only offense has been to get me hard and inspire me to write about them?

I’m sure you’ve got advice for me, so let me have it in the comments below. I repeat, no, I won’t share the videos with you. But I will, most certainly, let you know how this twisted plot of suffering and shocking torture continues to play out.

 

33 thoughts on “Called Out

  1. Bard….remember one thing…Ty Alexander is nothing but a Punk. Do you think he really beat me into that camel clutch on his own? No Way Jose….he had a little help from an anonymous Muscle Stud.
    Let Ty make all the noise and threats he wants. I’ll make sure that the next video you get is one of him suffering in my brutal merciless headscissors, and apologizing for his disrespect to you.
    After all, after all of your kind words here on Neverland, it’s the least I can do.
    Yours,
    Scott Willams

    1. Scott, I am thrilled to pieces that the circumstances were not as dire for you as they appeared. I am instantly aroused at just the promise of catching even a glimpse of your Trophy Boy torture revenge, and I can think of no better means of enacting justice than Ty brought to heel between your crushing thighs! If you have any concern at all about him bringing another punk to double team you again, just say the word and I’ll be there to back you up. To say it would be my pleasure would be the understatement of the century.

      1. DULY NOTED!!!! This will hopefully shut that Punk up for awhile as he contemplates the punishment in store for him!
        Scott

  2. Dude, you have to go battle that punk. He is just gonna keep needling you till you beat his ass down. Do yourself a favor, take a road trip and server this jobber some payback justice. (Tell Scott I love watching him in his UltraFight against Brad Rochelle! I completely get your fascination with that beautiful hunk!)

      1. Classic jobber move, Ty. You demonstrate yet again your deep appreciation for pro wrestling by stomping and stamping and petulantly provoking an opponent, so that fans can go wild when you get what’s coming to you. Keep up the outstanding work!

      2. Keep talking Ty, your gonna look real good lying flat on your back with Bard’s foot on your chest. I already know you sound good saying “I submit,” I’ve heard you say it multiple times on your videos. Hahaha!

    1. Hey Adam…Thanks Man!! What a treat it was to get to wrestle the beautiful and handsome Brad Rochelle. Damn nice guy off the mats…..one real punishing stud on the mats!
      Scott

      1. I can’t agree enough with Adam’s praise for your match with Brad R., Scott. And if we’re strolling down memory lane, I’d love to hear what it’s like for a wrestler to grapple in the gallons and gallons of sweat produced in a match like yours with Bud Orton. Visually, it’s sensational to watch, but I’ve always wondered if all of that lubrication is just a pain in the ass for you.

      2. Hey Scott, thanks for the reply! I love that camel clutch you put Brad in. I watch and re-watch that move over and over. Very hot! Im glad your still wrestling, there is still hope I can get you on the mats. : )

  3. Hey Bard,
    Trust me, all that sweat made for a sexy yet slippery match…harder to keep that stud locked up and suffering…but anyone who’s checked out that match will see that def found ways to punish him.
    I do have to give him credit for that one last camel clutch at the end of the match…my back needed readjustment for weeks 🙂

  4. Only thing left for Ty to do, is have Kid Karisma chained up and helpless in the ropes in a skimpy thong showing off his ass that you love so much Bard; then he spanks and tortures those mounds, as well as all the other bits of Karisma, while forcing our muscular hero to helplessly moan out a message of warning and challenge

    1. Well. I’d be sorely pressed to decide which scenario I’d hope for more, the one you describe, Heterosp, or me being wingman to watch Scott’s revenge. It’s an incredibly close call.

  5. You’ve just sealed your fate Ty…..We’re going at it again and the camera’s going to be ready to capture YOUR agony for Bard…..

  6. Really scoot because as I remember it’s 2-0 me. Thanks r does someone forever the first time with you duck taped to the corner naked and gagged screaming for an hr before I finally came to let you out.

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