You only have to be casually familiar with this blog to know that I’m a major Chase Addams fan. I literally sponsored his first custom, signature trunks. It makes me feel a little like a part-owner of his hot ass when he wears the tight, gun-metal gear with the words “Charming as Fuck” stitched across his backside. I didn’t contribute to the shiny purple version of those same trunks that he wears in his new match for Florida Fights 7: Pride-Aftershow, but I still feel like I’ve got a proprietary claim on his derriere.
Regular readers also know of my strong feelings about Kirk Donahue, Chase’s opponent in Florida Fights 7. I hate that guy. I mean, he’s also a sexy little fucker with incredible wrestling chops that I respect the hell out of. But there’s just something about his heavy lidded, smirky, smart ass, saccharine-sweet earnestness that leaves me with an insatiable desire to watch him get thumped and plowed under hard, again and again. Happily for me, BGE wrestlers keep delivering that sweet dish over and over, smacking the cutesy off of Kirk’s freckled face and making the cocky indy pro weep like a little bitch.
And then, somehow, Kirk pulled off a stunning upset victory in front of the live audience at Wrestling with Pride. I don’t know Trevor Read, but I’d like to. So sexy. Gorgeous to look at, but the bitter edged, fiercely confident heel attitude he wore in his match with Kirk was what really made me want to slap one of those front row fans to the curb to get an up close look at him. He looked like he was on his way to delivering the public humiliation that Kirk so abundantly begs for. But then, what the fuck, Trevor choked to that annoying little stud puppy! Fuck, Trevor. Just… fuck.
So apparently riding high on that shocking babyface victory, Kirk accepted a challenge from Chase Addams that same weekend back at BGE central. The stakes were high when I tucked into this Florida Fights match. Because if this was signaling Kirk’s ascension, if his freckled face and gargantuan bulge are going to start racking up serious victories over the likes of my boy Chase, then I am going to be SO pissed.
Honestly, I wondered if Chase might be biting off more than he could chew. He’s shared his origin story with me in different contexts over the past couple of years, but the narrative remains the same. Chase is, largely, a self-taught pro wrestling prodigy. He transitioned from fan to competitor by perfecting submission holds on the lucky son-of-a-bitch friends who would let him tie them up in knots, and then later on in the underground gay wrestling scene in St. Louis. Don’t get me wrong, Chase regularly leaves me awestruck and tongue tied by the vicious, gravity defying stunts he pulls at the expense of his opponents. He’s serious as a heart attack. But testing out his moves against a seasoned pro like Kirk, albeit a perennial jobber, seemed risky to me. If Howdy Doody has, in fact, turned over a new leaf, I could certainly see things going south big time for the Charming One.
Kirk clearly has wind in his sails as they sink their claws into each other. The action is ferocious and almost faster than the eye can follow. Kirk’s been doing this longer and much more often, and he looks annoyingly cocky as he curls his upper lip and dives in. The near-submissions fly with abandon. At one point, Kirk cinches Chase’s arms brutally behind his back and flips overtop of him, bridging high and grinding Chase’s handsome face into the mat viciously while attempting to rip his arms out at the shoulder. Holy fuck, that monster bulge at the apex of Kirk’s bridge defies belief.
The suspense is thick from start to finish, as they trade momentum back and forth, but I’m reading the tea leaves when Chase rakes Kirk’s eyes to escape from that bulge-tastic bridge. “You cheating son of a bitch!” Kirk whines petulantly. Right then, right there, my anxiety on behalf of my boy Chase settles down a bit. Chase is eager to show off his submission skills, but he’s also enthusiastically ready to piss on the conventional rules of sportsmanship and fair play. And Kirk is, ridiculously, shocked and irritated. The odds just tilted dramatically in my (Chase’s) favor.
My hunch is seemingly confirmed when Chase exploits Kirk’s foot stomping, whiny little bitch moment to clamp down one of a billion arm and wrist locks he has in his quiver and wrenches Kirk’s fingers sickly backward. Fuck, Kirk’s screams of panicked agony turn me on. Howdy Doody with the monster package taps out to give Chase the first submission.
They work like berserkers tearing through holds faster than the eye can follow. Despite my early intuition that this is Chase’s match to have, Kirk evens the submission count with a viciously deep Boston crab. Back and forth they trade submissions, with neither one able to pull away, until the count is 3-2. Then 4-2. Then 5-2. Kirk keeps fighting, mind you, but Chase absolutely outclasses him. The more withered Kirk gets, the meaner Chase grows. Watching his profound pleasure taking ownership of this hot bodied indy pro who thought his victory of Trevor Reed was signaling a new day for Howdy Doody is so sensationally satisfying. And by satisfying, I mean an incredible turn on.
I stand up an cheer when Chase locks down the Will Breaker and Kirk’s desperate screams echo off the warehouse walls. The self-taught phenom quite literally hangs this seasoned indy pro submission star out to dry. When Chase deigns to let him back down to the ground (after soaking in the dulcimer tones of his opponent’s countertenor screams of anguish) the Charming One lingers, crouching over top of Kirk’s wasted body. He strokes Kirk’s sweaty back possessively. Chase’s obvious admiration for his beauty makes me feel like I can admit that, sure, Kirk’s fucking hot. If Chase would just peel Kirk’s trunks down, bend him over his knee, and spank his alabaster ass fire engine red, I just might be ready to set aside my perennial enmity toward Kirk Donahue.
Sadly for everyone, I still hate that guy. This match, though, I love. Chase, seductively stroking Kirk’s tightly muscled back, I enjoy. Chase’s insanely long, smooth legs tied in crushing knots all over his opponent’s overwhelmed body, I lust for. A gut check story of a self-taught prodigy testing his mettle against a privileged, impeccably trained, abundantly seasoned pro and making Kirk his bitch, I adore.