The mundane requirements in my life have kept me from posting more regularly here lately. However, I’m happy to report I’ve still had time to enjoy watching homoerotic wrestling. I’ve recently fallen in lust with a classic batch of matches from almost twenty years ago packaged by BG East as Britbouts 1.

Back in antiquity, when I received my homoerotic wrestling products on VHS, I used to love the promotional trailers at the end of the DVDs, with snippets of other products to tempt and titillate. I remember seeing a promo for Britbouts 1 and particularly being attracted to the 45 seconds or so it provided of excerpts from Kid Vicious mat match with Ron Holloway. In fact, I got off more than once on just that glimpse of this match slipped in at the tail end of some other tape I owned.  I clearly remember the look of rage and anguish mixed on the adorably babyfaced pretty boy Ron. I’m sure at some point it was on the top of my next-to-order list, but tide and time and the regular rush of enticing new BG East products made me forget to follow up on it.  Happily, I’ve rectified that situation, and I’m even happier to report that the match is every bit as satisfying as I’d imagined it would be when all I had was that hot little teaser with that pumping synthesizer techno beat pounding the soundtrack to the trailer.

Ron Holloway turns my crank the instant he appears on screen, stretching out his super-lean, painfully pale, gorgeously proportioned young body. He’s achingly pretty, but not in the way that so many pretty boys in homoerotic wrestling since are pretty. He’s not pretty in a way that would make him a candidate for the cover of a fitness magazine. No, he’s pretty in the way that I’d develop a dizzying crush on a next door neighbor, or the bag boy at the grocery store, or some nerdy cutie a grade below me in school. He has a Supercuts ‘do and a disarming, bright white smile. His classic, stark white trunks and matching boots somehow make the pale expanse of his otherwise bare body seem that much more vulnerable. His silky smooth jaw and chest place him squarely in the developmental state when one reaches the age of majority, and yet the last volleys of puberty are yet to be fired. His long, skinny legs are lightly hairy in a natural yet self-conscious way. Some would bitch about him being too skinny, I’m sure, but he’s perfectly who he is in this moment in time: beautifully fit, still growing into his long limbs, high on testosterone and late adolescent invincibility, and sporting a fuckable zero-padding set of glutes squeezed supertight inside of what must be size XXS trunks.

Enter Kid Vicious. I’ve been crushing on KV from the moment I first discovered homoerotic wrestling. He looks so young in this match, and still he’s unmistakably all man in this boy-versus-man melodrama. His shaved head reveals the outline of his receding hairline. His chest displays the dark, closely cropped hair of a man who likes control, who maintains a regimented grooming routine and knows at any moment every detail of his body’s appearance, position, and tolerances. He’s lean like Ron, but with a handful more years of muscle maturity and growth. Every hot little detail on the babyface is just a little hotter, a little more developed, a little more fully realized on KV. Also super lean, KV’s pecs are just a little fuller. His shoulders are an inch or two broader. His long lean thighs are just that much thicker than the babyface’s, and like the babyface’s, they’re ungroomed, but just a little hairier on the more mature man. KV is squeezed into red and black zebra print square cuts and villainous black boots.

So this is clearly, from the outset a battle of bright-eyed, beautiful youthful innocence squaring off against jaded, contemptuous sadism. Or perhaps you might conceptualize this as seasoned maturity stepping back in time to kick the arrogant shit out of his young, dumb, and full of cum barely legal self. Ron is impetuous and irrationally confident as he snarls at the deadly dangerous man staring coldly back at him. This was apparently the first time BGE, including Kid Vicious, ventured across the pond, so ostensibly anything could happen here. When West meets Wester, it could totally be the case that the toughnik Scottish prettyboy has the goods to shock and awe the American who so obviously thinks he’s a total bad ass. If you knew nothing of the next 20 years of Kid Vicious’ BGE career, the morality tale being played out here could legitimately hinge on the notion that a Glasgow street punk could upend and completely dominate his upperclassman opponent, proving that KV’s curled lip and heel cred are nothing more than the paper thin boasting of a big fish from a little pond.

Once they start to tussle, however, you’d have to note every signal indicating that this is going to be boy bashing brutality. Kid Vicious takes control of my crushworthy bag boy. He uses each and every edge in size and strength to manhandle the kid, ripping Ron’s quivering shoulders out of joint in a surfboard, milking the fight out him with crushing body scissors clamped viciously around the Scot’s 28″ waist. Ron is so fucking pissed. All of that late pubescent testosterone is still convincing him that he’s more than up to the task of making the Yankee pay for this early humiliation. His bangs flop from side to side, his jaw gapes open, lips curling in that incredibly sexy rage/anguish that so enticed me from the trailer those years ago. Even when KV is totally owning him, the bitterness on the Scot’s face says clearly that he’s seeing revenge fantasies playing across the backs of his eyelids as his eyes are clenched tight in agony.

Ron’s no pushover, to say the least. He takes a cargo ship full of punishment and sucks on it like a lollipop. Moreover, he’s surprisingly patient for someone so young, biding his time and munching on the humiliation for the right moment to counter. Slipping free from a headlock, the Scot cranks the fuck out of a tit-for-tat hammerlock, threatening to rip Kid Vicious’ arms off at the shoulders. KV is more than a little shocked and super pissed off, suddenly playing catcher to this ridiculously babyfaced rook mounted across his back. That familiar sneer on KV’s lips suddenly disappears and then reappears on Ron’s face, as the stark reality comes into focus: Kid Vicious is getting owned by an actual kid.

Ron gets a couple of shocking submissions out of KV, which, in and of themselves, are worth the price of admission. But even sexier is the diabolical comeback KV makes, patiently starting up from the bottom of the hill after each humiliation, and steadily, surely, expertly climbing back to the summit. Regular readers know that my favorite hold is the OTK backbreaker, and featherweight Ron is like a baby in KV’s arms when the Yank scoops him up, holds him there like it’s nothing, and then pounds the kid’s lower spine across his thigh. Babyface Ron writhes and screams. The first cracks to his invincibility fable start to show. With one hand on a knee and the other pressing on the kid’s chin, KV pries his prey backward, promising to snap the little fucker’s back in half.

The other submission that stands out for me (as in, gets me off repeatedly) is Kid Vicious’ magnificent knee breaker. Babyface Ron has mounted a few shocking volleys of offense by this point, and you can see KV is fucking over this. He’s going to maim the kid. He rolls the babyface up, hooking Ron’s left leg and pinning the back of the Scot’s head against KV’s crotch. At first, Rob’s face screws up in pain and he bitches about his quivering hamstring getting stretched to the point of snapping.  It looks vicious (appropriately enough). You know the babyface is about to submit, because he’s got nowhere to go and his opponent can wring cruel, bitter anguish out of him at will. But then KV pulls the kid’s captured leg to the left and positions Ron’s hyperextended knee right over KV’s own bent knee. And the genius of this moment comes into clear focus, as KV pulls that much harder on the Scot’s leg, hyperextending the knee sickeningly that much farther around his own.  Babyface Ron SCREAMS in panic. He submits about 50 times in the space of 10 seconds, as KV simply soaks it in, smiling sadistically, living for this moment of owning this once-cocky kid in body and soul.

The last thing about his match that I have to mention isn’t a hold. It’s Ron, writhing on the mat after this knee breaker, whimpering like a sniveling bitch, “No more, no more, no more, no more,” in that thick, sexy Scottish accent. KV stands over him domineeringly, silently threatening, and the boy first announces “no more,” but when KV doesn’t appear about to back down, the boy starts begging, pleadingly, “NO MORE!” The hot little bag boy isn’t just done. He’s burnt to a crisp. That facade of invincibility he started with has shattered to the mat around him. His illusions of being “the man” are dashed upon the realization that next to Kid Vicious, he’s just a snot nosed little bitch. The chemistry has changed within him, from equal parts rage and anguish to overwhelming, sour bitterness with a dash of “one-day-I’ll-grow-up-and-then-you’ll-be-sorry.”

Of course, Kid Vicious has about 5 more minutes of corporal punishment and vile emotional abuse to inflict on the overdone flank steak at his feet. He mounts the kid, with the Scot lying totally vulnerable, flat on his back. KV stretches out on top of the rookie, pec to pec, crotch to crotch, maximal body contact. He pins Ron’s hands to the mat above his head and starts a 3 count to finish this little bitch.  That persistent overdose of testosterone the late-pubescent kid is simmering in still convinces him to jerk a shoulder free, breaking the count. It’s not a real challenge to KV’s complete mastery of the moment. Just a bitter refusal to accept reality. So KV rolls the kid up, crotch pressed against the Scot’s face, grabs the babyface’s ankles and rips Ron’s legs open wide. Ron’s still just as bitter, just as adamantly wanting to deny the facts of the situation. But he’s good and throughly fucked right here, so KV gets his 3 count.

It’s a fucking shame that Ron Holloway appears to have been a one hit wonder, because he emotes like an Oscar winner. He’s lithe and lovely and fierce and fucked all bundled up into one incredibly tight, sexy little package. I’d love to have seen KV rip Ron’s white trunks off and ride that raw, muscled ass. I’d give a kidney to go back and time and convince KV right then to give the Scot’s ripped torso a tongue lashing from top to bottom. But alas, this is not an X-Fight.

As for Kid Vicious, I find it fascinating to watch him get his hands on a Brit for the first time. It’s little wonder he will return to the UK repeatedly in the years following this match to sink his teeth into more hot Brits. He clearly had a taste for this succulent delicacy from the first moment he laid eyes on Ron Holloway.