In what way has Muscle Master Kevin NOT humiliated Damien Rush over the years? The archives of MDW are littered with daddy’s little rich boy getting thrashed and trashed again and again by the boss. It’s been done so often that I didn’t actually expect to see anything new in Season 27’s “Zzz 14.” In one sense, I was right, in that the age old story of Damien squashed and trampled by Kevin plays out pretty much like we’ve come to expect. On the other hand, I was wrong, because there are some provocative new elements in the classic formula, and the chemistry gets me off like a space shuttle launch.

The first thing that’s new is Damien. Oh, sure, we’ve seen Damien countless times. But we’ve never seen this Damien before. Fuck, he’s huge. I mean, fuck, he’s HUGE! He says he’s getting ready for a bodybuilding competition, and I believe him. A physique like that has little other purpose, really, than to be strutted nearly naked on stage and judged for it’s aesthetic beauty. One might make an argument that a body like that could also be well employed dominating opponents in a homoerotic wrestling context, but this is Damien Rush we’re talking about. Other than a few dazzlingly inspiring moments of clarity and purpose in which daddy’s little rich boy ran rough shod over an opponent in the past, for the most part, he’s mincemeat.

The more pertinent issue as Kevin walks in is what value Damien’s huge, fuckable body is to the entrepreneur-in-chief. “You need more size, because size sells,” Kevin explains patiently over the course of his muscle domination. “We’re going to get you in competition shape, and we’re going to get me some cash.” I’ve always wished that Kevin enjoyed heeling for its intrinsic value. I’ve wished there was more of an insider’s appreciation for the eroticism of wrestling at MDW. But short of that, I have to admit there’s something erotically compelling about a relatively straightforward story about cultivating gorgeous muscles for mauling as an acknowledgement that you and I get off on it. Eroticism is in the room, even if it’s a pretty straight-edged nod to your and my erotic interests.

While I typically tune into MDW for the flashes of hot wrestling, I have to admit there’s something profoundly moving about the domination aspect of this match. It’s not a match, really. Damien puts up nothing but his whimpering, wheezing, will-bended, forced-to-flex obedience to his muscle master. But Damien’s jeopardy tweaks my kink for the delight of watching his self-appraisal go up in flames at the hands of his constant tormentor and employer. The gear itself is deeply arousing to me. Watching one hunk’s vulnerability represented by the briefest of posing trunks, contrasted by his opponent in street clothes (well, if you happen to walk shirtless down the street in sensationally sexy, skin tight leather pants), is an angle I’ve struggled to put into words before. Personally, I’d have enjoyed it even more to see Kev stroll in in a business suit and slowly pull off his tie and unbutton a couple of buttons on his shirt as he dices this meat just like he does. One guy clothed, casual, getting down to business as if he wasn’t planning to have to grapple, digging into another guy who’s nearly naked, prepped and fluffed for obvious erotic examination, is a seldom satisfied erotic taste I have.

 

Muscle Master Kevin’s use of his legs also gets me off hard in this match. The theme is variations on the sleeper, which isn’t always at the top of my list. But Kevin uses his legs so seductively to accomplish his tasks. And of course, legwork which is typically near the top of my list. His crotch pillow leg choke is that much sexier for the fact that he’s in pants.  His leg nelson is gorgeous as fuck both for the sexy way it highlights Kevin’s legs and for the sensational way it shows off Damien’s hot, bodybuilder body.

The camera work also strikes me as different, in a great way, than a lot of MDW matches. The camera lingers long and hard on Damien’s suffering muscles. There are several up-crotch close ups as Damien sits on the precipice of unconsciousness with his legs spread wide and his tiny posing strap wedged up his ass crack, leaving plenty of mouthwatering gluteus muscles bare. Whoever is behind the camera this time gets my applause for unflinchingly following our gaze.

“You may not be the top wrestler, but I’m going to make sure you’re one of the top grossing wrestlers,” Kevin explains as he shoves Damien back and forth over the line of unconsciousness. He hits that seductive domination element that is corporal ownership skillfully. Kevin possesses Damien’s magnificent muscles. He claims them and owns them. “So you’re going to keep training like you have been,” Kevin explains why he’s willing to dish out some compliments to the big stud. “You’re going to get bigger and better by the day. You’re going to watch that diet. You’re going to hit those weights. You’re going to stay at peak shape, so that I can film all of the quality matches that I want with you.” While I consider the master/slave/dom/sub scene in the neighborhood but down the street from my kink home, I absolutely get off to this element of physical possession between Kev and Damien.

The last element that catches me by surprise in this product is when Kevin force feeds Damien a banana. There’s something kitsch about the idea of this, but in its execution, fuck it’s hot to watch. It helps matters that Damien deepthroats the banana.  Twice. If I can’t be there to face fuck him myself, it turns out watching Kev shove a banana down his throat is a reasonable stand in, at least from a voyeur angle. Honestly, I’ve never gotten off on watching food play before.  I won’t be able to say that now.

Damien’s whimpering, beaten, completely dominated hotness is forced to flex on command. At one point he literally attempts to flee the scene, which earns him some leg torture as Kevin works to make sure the beast won’t be able to walk temporarily (and happily for me, more close up focusing on those monster quads). “I want you and your muscles to understand who your fucking Boss is,” Kevin explains patiently. “Every time I walk into the room, your muscles are going to twitch.”

I’m twitching, too, Muscle Master Kevin.  Short of me stuffing my ripe banana deep down Damien’s throat, this muscle mastering confrontation hits all the notes that crank on that part of my kink that wants to see some hot bodybuilder beaten and erotically owned. It’s not as if I haven’t seen Damien plowed under by Kevin in the past. But I’ve never seen Damien this stacked. I’ve never seen Kevin so explicitly committed to possessing Damien’s muscles for our delight. And I’ve never enjoyed it quite this much before.