It’s been a while since I took a break from interviews and reviews for a more thematic post. Today, I’m thinking about that peculiar idiom, referring to Wednesday as “hump day.” I actually missed this convention growing up. It was some time in my early adulthood, probably perusing commentary about homoerotic wrestling, when I first heard the term “hump day.” Now, I see and hear it everywhere. I still associate it with sex, but considering how mainstream it is, that’s clearly not implied by everyone. But among those of us into homoerotic wrestling, what else would come to mind?
An enthusiastic pelvic thrust in the midst of a wrestling match is one of those relatively subtle moments that instantly turns a confrontation sensationally erotic. Personally, I get off on wrestling beyond any direct analogy to sex acts. But there’s an extravagant openness about a wrestler taking an opportunity by force to tease his crotch grinding into his opponent’s crack. It opens up exciting possibilities about stakes. It signals to those of us aroused on this side of the screen that at least one of the hunks on that side of the screen is also turned on. It’s impassioned and motivated and pulls a wrestling match out of the closet by the scruff of the neck. In those rare moments when the wrestler getting humped responds receptively, when his mouth gapes open in frustrated desire, when he’s visibly struggling with a momentary lust to get fucked by the hot hunk on his back competing with his desire for wrestling victory (I’m looking at you, Drake Marcos), then a wrestling match is elevated for me beyond any hardcore porn scene I’ve ever seen.
So, happy hump day, homoerotic wrestling fans. And a thousand thanks to those wrestlers who kick the competition up a notch with a hearty, grunting, sweaty pelvic thrust.
Drake immobilized by Skrapper’s cock – Matmen 26Lauden Sevior starts punching Drake’s ticket – Undagear 27Oh, look, Drake’s ass pinned to the wall by Ethan’s monster cock – Undagear 25Jaysen Minx mounts Goren Ford’s hot ass and makes him ask himself just how bad he wants to fight back – Undagear 27 Shocked heel beefcake Hawk Rodman’s final concession is cradling Fabrice’s thrusting cock between his cheeks – Mat Rookies 2
I get the impression that I may be Denny Cartier’s most infatuated fan. Not that Denny doesn’t have plenty of fans. But I sense that my level of enthusiasm for him may be higher than most. I try not to speculate too long on what others don’t see that I see. But the raison d’être of this blog is to explore in excruciating depth what I see, what I appreciate, and what turns me on. And Denny Cartier turns me on.
Boy Next Door Denny Cartier
Denny is back out of his natural habitat in his new release Jobberpaloozer 14. Even casual Denny fans know that he’s a beast on the mats, but more often than not gets his gorgeous ass handed to him once he steps foot in the ring. So there are dark clouds looming over his head with Denny climbing into the BG East ring as part of a Jobberpaloozer compilation. There’s also something ominous about the fact that this is another “from the vaults” new release. Denny is an even babier baby face than usual. This was taped long enough ago that Denny was not yet sporting any visible tattoos. He has more hair and less mature muscle mass than the shoot master on the mats we’ve seen of his more recent competition. And he’s wearing those white trunks with blue trim that he wore in several early career matches, and as I think of them, they’re sort of his jobber uniform. His chances for victory aside, I must say I first fell in lust with Denny in this youthful, unblemished, curly haired early career incarnation. There’s something more accessible about his lean, taught gut in contrast with the ripped, crystal cut eight-packs of so many other gym bunnies and body builders who climb into that same ring. I once went on at length about my attachment to him as a dizzyingly sexy hunk who could legitimately be a boy next door, a real guy who just happens to have a leading man dimpled chin and who strips to next to nothing to wrestle for the pleasure of gay fans. His sweet, thick thighs are unshaven. He’s probably manscaped his torso a bit, but there’s an unselfconsciousness about his look. In a world full of clones and genetic freaks and gym bunnies and go go boys, Denny strolls in like Pinocchio transformed, a real boy with functional muscle strength and dreamy eyes and a real life propensity for copious sweat and a complete lack of self awareness of what a sensationally sexy object of lust his beautiful ass is.
I hate Nick Naughton
Oh, yeah, Denny has an opponent. Nick Naughton. I fucking hate this guy. Too tanned. Too primped. Overadorned. He’s a little like the anti-Denny. He knows he’s fucking hot, and if anything, he overestimates his appeal. He certainly overestimates his wrestling dominance. He could probably be forgiven for strutting in and assuming he’ll squash Denny like a bug, standing nearly half a foot taller and bringing with him a reported 50 pounds more weight (though I’m suspicious… he doesn’t seem THAT much bigger) than Denny. I’d cut him some slack for his lack of any glimmer of humility if he didn’t irritate me so fucking much. He has no respect for Denny, and what’s worse, he shows little respect for pro wrestling. He’s all blunt force trauma and muscle bullying. He openly scoffs at Denny’s pre-match stretching and shoot practice. He has nothing but contempt for Denny’s earnestness, and has no more detailed a plan than to beat the living fuck out of his opponent as quickly as possible so he can head back to the Jersey Shore and pick up a pair of tits. Of course, anyone who can inspire such loathing from me is a sensationally accomplished pro wrestling character. I respect him like hell for almost instantly making me hate him, for making Denny that much more my babyfaced hero, for setting the table so nicely for another brutal battle of good versus evil. Fuck, I hate that guy.
Denny brings the mountain to Mohammed
Like Joe, a squash goes only so far for my wrestling tastes. I’ll pick a competitive match with convincingly sold suspense over a lopsided squash 99 times out 100. Denny and Nick’s match on Jobberpaloozer 14 is the only one of the 3 on this DVD that treats us to suspense, really, which is probably why I’m drawn to review it first. I strongly advocate for a read of the pro wrestling cannon that distinguishes between a squash and classic jobber vs. heel match. Squashes are, by definition, one-sided maulings. They have their place. They can make sense with an appropriate narrative frame. Denny vs. Nick is not a squash. Those opening notes of doom, that dark cloud hanging just over Denny’s handsome head that I mentioned earlier is the piece that nudges this match just over the line into a jobber story for me. Without that, I’d say this was more legitimately a competitive babyface vs. heel battle. Because Denny fucking dominates more than a third of this match. If you didn’t know how the ring is Denny’s Achilles heel, if you couldn’t read the jobber uniform signals, if you didn’t know better, over halfway through this match you’d have to admit that this thing could absolutely go either way. Which makes it a stretch for a jobber match for me. But while I quibble with the canon, I fucking love to death the drama here.
Denny may need to replace Tommy Zenk as the banner for this blog!!!
Nick is a lumbering oaf. Denny is just too sensationally fast and decisive. Nick lunges forward for a lock up, and Denny ducks underneath his outstretched arms effortlessly. Denny throws his back into the ropes and bounces off, launching super high off the mat for a running drop kick. Nick takes it in the chest and stumbles backward, and in that time, Denny has spun to his feet, thrown himself into the ropes, and his soaring like a cruise missile for a second drop kick to the upper chest. Nick is rocked backward farther, clutching his chest, literally mouth gaping open in shock. And yet again, Denny has already scrambled to his feet and is soaring off the ropes a third time to put the big, overlay tanned lug nut on his ass. David is beating the living fuck out of Goliath, and I’m hard as El Capitan.
Caught in the act
Tables turn on a dime. This is professional wrestling after all. So when they’re back on their feet and Denny launches for a cross body off the ropes, it’s gaspworthy to see big Nick catch him, take a couple of stutter steps backward, and then right himself before slamming the shit out Denny’s back to the mat. Nick starts stomping all over Denny’s hot body, making my babyface hero flinch and flail, bouncing off the mat, clutching each most recently assaulted appendage in turn. “You know, you got me going for a minute,” Nick admits, smiling as he watches Denny squirm like a fish underfoot. “I thought I was going to have a little bit of a work out, but I guess I’ll just be whipping your ass.” In my mind, I’m thinking that this is the cliff that Denny gets tossed over again and again. Signal the jobber violins, because the inevitable is right now turning into reality.
Goliath humiliated ass-up
Nick scoops him back up, cradled across his chest for another slam. Or OTK. Whatever he had in mind, Denny shifts his center of gravity, rolling Nick to his shoulders and, no shit, pinning his leather-skinned ass to the mat for a totally legitimate, no rush 3 count pinfall. Denny bounces to his feet, already sweaty, pumping his fists in the air in victory and congratulating himself. “That’s freakin’ bull shit!” Nick snarls, climbing to his feet and bitching, bitching, bitching. Again, if it weren’t for the title on the packaging, I’d say this was the opening salvo in a hotly contested babyface vs. heel match.
Hung out to dry
Nick repeatedly wings Denny with blunt force trauma. Denny’s laying down blurring speed and high flying acrobatics and perfectly balanced holds designed lovingly to work an opponent into jeopardy, and Nick is grabbing him by the throat and throwing him into a corner. On the receiving end, Denny suffers beautifully. I don’t remember my crotch responding so instantly to Denny’s panicked cries and whimpers in previous matches. Nick neutralizes his technical skill and hours of practice with heel stomps to the gut. He counters Denny’s finesse and precision by using the jump rope Denny was using to warm up in order to strangle him in a hangman, my babyface hero turning purple and submitting in a panic across Nick’s long back. Again, I think the essential element of inevitability in a jobber match is finally settling in. Maybe Denny will make a run or two, but surely he’s getting steam rolled now.
Enjoy the view, Nick
But no, it just isn’t that match. Denny doesn’t just make a couple of runs, he schools Goliath. Denny showcases his ground game, persistently outmaneuvering the big oaf until he snaps down sweaty, hairy head scissors. Fuck, watching Denny’s big thighs flex and glisten makes me ache to get my hands on that boy next door muscle. Nick pummels his gut, tries some elbow stabs to break the hold, but Denny is having none of that cheap ass shit. He takes the jabs and keeps bearing down, actually growling like an animal with its prey in its teeth. Nick shifts his legs underneath him and uses that raw power to pull Denny off the mat, still attached to his head. You can hear Nick’s thoughts working out how high he has to muscle Denny off the mat in order to pound him back down and earn his escape. A fraction of a second before he does, Denny launches himself over Nick’s shoulder, rolling the big man to his shoulders and ripping his legs apart in a totally humiliating, crotch ripping spladle. Point and counterpoint, Denny is two moves ahead. He’s faster. He’s smarter. He’s got the only legitimate wrestling strategy in the ring. And no shit, he demands and quickly secures another screeching submission from naughty Nick.
I’m team David
This is a competitive match. This is genuine suspense, and Denny is persistent and talented and totally in contention to upend the lumbering big baby crying and complaining as if Denny has used anything but superior skill to school his bronzed ass. It’s a [babyface] jobber versus heel match because that cloud of inevitability is still hanging over Denny’s head. He’s the designated whipping boy. He’s going to go down, because this is a Jobberpaloozer match. But this is no squash. Fuck, I love this.
In the clutches of the giant
Blunt force tramua eventually beats the speed right out of Denny. Suplexes and stomps and revenge headscissors wring the fight out of my fantasy next door neighbor. There’s a relatively long and steep slope that Nick rolls him down to the bitter end, and Denny sucks it up like the earnest young hunk I adore so much. He gets the shit kicked out of him, returning again entirely within the lines of the ring jobber that he’s been for so long. And he just keeps selling the back arching agony, the silently gaping screams of pain, the shattered dreams and shocked humiliation with a passion equal to his fierce babyface earnestness that he started with.
Denny’s sweaty nightmare
Nick stomps out of the ring at the end boasting about needing to go to the gym for a “real workout,” but he doesn’t fool me. He wins, sure. He beats his smaller opponent into the mat, turning his skills and strength into an impotent puddle of sweat. But Nick and I both know that if it weren’t for Denny breaking holds when Nick grabbed the ropes (because Denny is a babyface), if it weren’t for Nick’s overwhelming fire power and much more compromised morals, he’d have been fucked like Goliath on this day. Nick’s words are all about his contempt for Denny, but the tone of voice and the rather unceremonious way he retreats from the ring tell a different story. He’s lucky not to have been the humiliated object of an epic upset, and he’ll know better than underestimate Denny Cartier ever again.
I’m here for you, Denny
I love watching Denny wrestle. I love watching him pumped in victory. I love watching him gloat. And, frankly, I’m incredibly aroused witnessing him writhe in his own sweat, heavy lidded eyes, slack jaw sucking down air, muscles aching after taking a nasty beating from a much, much bigger opponent. All that beautiful, battered hotness makes me want to climb in the ring, strip him naked, and give him a deep tissue massage to help his imminently fuckable body recover. And it occurs to me, yet again, how enticing I find Denny’s accessibility. There’s that solid, real, unadorned quality about him that translates me into the ring with him. Win or lose, he owns my loyalty because he’s both beautiful and real, a boy next door fantasyman.
Goren Ford is his own worst enemy. A little like Drake Marcos, Goren has demonstrated sensational instincts and assets for homoerotic wrestling that have been consistently undermined by getting lost in the erotic pleasure of competition. Of course, I love him for that. It’s one of those genuinely homoerotic angles on professional wrestling. Of course, I also love Goren’s gorgeous body. His proportions are dizzyingly sexy, with his meaty pecs, wasp-thin waist, and fantastically muscled bubble butt. He’s a deceptively big boy, too, and his 6’1″ “swimmer’s build” typically physically dominates his opponents on the mat. I’ve watched every match of his, and at the start of each and every one, my money is on Goren to beat his opponent and, knowing his lusts, celebrate by humping the loser’s face. By the end, though, 9 times out of 10 (well, literally, 2 times out of 3), Goren’s libido has been played like a fiddle, and he’s too turned on to be bitter about losing the match.
Introducing Jaysen Minx
Like both of Goren’s prior opponents, in Undagear 27 Jaysen Minx is smaller than he is. Jaysen isn’t as hard as Goren. His pecs don’t bulge as impressively. His thighs aren’t as thickly muscled. But he’s got the face of a male supermodel and the ass off a porn star. Honestly, those lips… fu-u-uck, somebody’s got to lock those puppies down and suck on his tongue (how the fuck did that not happen in this match!?). So sensationally pretty, both sneering/dominating and twisted in agony/suffering. I also love that BGE’s catalog 119 features two black men. It’s long overdue for the homoerotic wrestling audience to appreciate the hotness of a diversity of wrestlers. I don’t know if Jaysen will turn out to be a standout star (I think Ace Aarons, the other black wrestler in this catalog, may be more likely to), but fans of male beauty need to buckle up and be prepared to get lost in the Jaysen’s high cheekbones, lush lips, and dizzyingly gorgeous ass.
Goren’s hands and Jaysen’s eyes tell the whole story, start to finish.
Goren smells blood at the beginning of their match. Jaysen is a total newbie. He’s got a fierce look, but staring down at him, Goren looks like the big bad wolf licking his lips. He attacks confidently, exploiting his muscle and reach. But Jaysen is fucking fast. He scrambles and slides free of the vetaran, using a front facelock to drag the bigger man to the mat. Goren muscles free, but the newbie is quicker on the draw again, snapping down bodyscissors and making Goren gasp.
Jaysen makes the veteran work for it
Goren is playing defense more than I was expecting. He steps in one bear trap after another. Certainly, he keeps muscling free, powering to one escape after another. That sends a message to Jaysen all in and of itself. Whatever you’ve got to throw at me, I can knock that shit back down again. But getting trapped repeatedly is sort of pissing the big man off. Moments after muscling free from a rear naked choke, Goren climbs on top of a schoolboy pin, sliding forward and grinding his package into those lush, sexy lips of Jaysen. “Yeah, not so tough now, huh?” Goren gloats. Pivoting his hips and sliding all the way forward on top of Jaysen’s chest, Goren humps that devastatingly pretty face. He grabs the back of the newbie’s head and yanks up hard, smothering Jaysen with his balls.
Jaysen returns the favor.
Jaysen’s got a plan, though. You can see it the calm way he sucks on abuse, waiting, biding his time, clocking in the necessary hours to earn his way to his promotion. We get a first glimpse of the plan when very early on, he’s riding his own schoolboy pin and leans back, wrapping his hand around Goren’s package. It’s not a vicious claw. It’s not violent at all, really. It’s appraising and appreciative. It’s teasing and seductive. It’s as if Jaysen’s knows Goren’s resume, and he’s putting his thumb on the veteran’s self-destruct button early and often.
Digging for gold
Goren’s caught off guard (which makes me think he doesn’t yet realize that he’s his own worst enemy). He whines so plaintively it makes me laugh. I heard the same thing in his spectacular undoing against mouthwatering bon bon Richie Douglas. Goren gasps and bitches like he’s completely shocked that someone would dare grab a hold of his lovely bulge without permission. It’s a little high pitched, like a brat protesting being ordered to go brush his teeth. The contrast of his classic Greek statue of a body and his petulant protests is so sexy! I get the impression Jaysen thinks so as well, because he repeatedly grabs a hold whenever the opportunity arises. A particularly sexy dragon sleeper by the rookie makes Goren arch his hips high in the air to relieve a little pressure on his neck. Immediately and decisively (remember, he’s got a plan), Jaysen slides his hand down inside the front of Goren’s singlet and wraps his fingers around this cock. Again, this isn’t a ball claw. He’s not even bothering with Goren’s balls. He intentionally and deliberately takes the opportunity to enthusiastically throttle Goren’s cock, cranking on that jet engine of a libido the veteran has.
Only now does Goren realize where Jaysen has set his sights.
The scales come off of Goren’s eyes when he’s proving how strong he is, once again, by muscling his way free from the newbie’s standing full nelson. It’s part of that repeated trap and escape pattern, and it’s like Goren is still buying the idea that he’s demonstrating his superiority. But Jaysen suddenly grabs Goren’s singlet as the veteran slips free, yanking it to the ground and leaving Goren standing there in nothing but his jock strap. Again, I say, fu-u-uck. That ass. But that’s just me, because everyone else’s attention is on the pouch. Angrily, Goren steps clear of the singlet and turns, grabbing his crotch and waving it his opponent’s direction. “You want to get at this, huh?” Goren growls angrily, defiantly. Jaysen just stares back calmly, staring fixedly, hungrily at the wrapped meat in Goren’s hand. Yes, Goren, the rest of us noticed several minutes earlier. Jaysen most clearly wants, and so far has been surprisingly adept at getting, your tantalizing cock.
Feet about to slide into position
At this point in their young careers, neither of these guys are particularly smooth wrestling technicians. I’d say at least a quarter of the action is spent in messy, mad scrambles, as they both struggle with applying and maintaining holds. What they lack in technical wrestling ability, though, they more than make up for in enthusiasm. That rear naked choke that Jaysen applies often is getting more polished by the minute. And in a stroke of intuitive genius, he adds half-hearted scissors around Goren’s incredibly narrow waist. The scissors are half-hearted because the real point is, thus positioned, Jaysen’s inspired success in massaging Goren’s cock with his bare feet. It’s persistent and, again, entirely titillating (of course I’m referring to Goren, but holy shit, I’m highly titillated watching it). “Get the fuck off my dick!” Goren bitches again in that petulant, high pitched whine, twisting his hips to pull his crotch out of reach. Jaysen smiles slightly and slaps Goren’s gorgeous ass in reply.
Nobody’s complaining
The messy scrambles give way to smooth transitions from one erotically intimate hold after another. Goren mounts another schoolboy and slowly drags his crotch up Jaysen’s bare torso. He flexes his beautiful biceps to treat the newbie who’s so clearly into him. Slowly, seductively he slides his hips forward again, pinning the newbie’s head to the mat under the weight of his cock pressing against his lips. Nobody’s complaining. Jaysen wants it. A lot.
“Put your face in that ass!”
Jaysen eventually counters, rolling the veteran to his back, dangling his own package tantalizingly in Goren’s face. Again, Goren bitches and whines petulantly. I don’t believe it for a second, because the big man is barely fighting it. Smoothly, Jaysen spins around on Goren’s hotly muscled chest and slides his hips backward. “Put your face in that ass!” Jaysen commands like a seasoned erotic pro. The newbie stretches his torso forward, down the length of the veteran’s body, and buries his face in the prize he’s been eying all along. Goren sort of fights it, but again, I don’t buy it. The newbie’s ass is so fantastic. Sure Goren doesn’t want to lose. He doesn’t want to be humiliated. On the other hand, he does want that ass. He does want his cock serviced.
I love it when a plan comes together
The final minutes of the match are all about squeezing and pressing their bodies together. Bearhugs, crotch pillow headscissors. Jaysen scores the undisputed victory in submissions, because… Goren. Goren has forgotten all about the competition by the end of it all because… Goren. They fucking want each other, grinding, squeezing, groping each other’s bodies, Jaysen hypnotizing the beast by stroking his cock. The scene fades to black with everyone aroused. Most especially me.
“You want to get at this, huh?”
Sensationally sexy debut for Jaysen. I’m aching to see that rear naked choke foot massage applied to some more BG East wrestlers. And Goren is so stunningly, spectacularly, perfectly flawed, that it’s an incredible pleasure to watch him be so distracted and wooed. Future opponents would be well to note that Jaysen has found Goren’s self-destruct button. You don’t need to pound on it. You don’t need to punch it. Just a few strokes, a little massaging, and gorgeous Goren can be all yours.
I know of wrestlers who nearly lost their balls getting caught smuggling behind-the-scenes pics out of BG East shoots, so I continue to applaud Our Man Inside (OMI) who once again has dropped a manilla envelope full of random, unpublished BGE candids on my doorstep. This envelope was huge, so I’ll try to refrain from taking up too much space with my comments or speculations. Though, who am I kidding? I can’t restrain myself from speculating. In any case, OMI, you are my hero!
First up, we’ve got a whole bevy of poolside hotness. I have not appreciated Mad Mykel’s magnificent ass nearly enough until now. On the other hand, Ty Alexander and Richie Douglas’ asses have been on my radar for years. Honestly, who do I need to fuck to get to see more of Richie Douglas incredibly tasty body!? And ever a safety nut, I hope Mykel, Ty and Richie know that I’ve got to hands and a bottle of sunscreen at the ready. Anytime.
Next up, we get a sensationally rare treat of unpublished photos from the BG East ring. I’m instantly titillated by the site of an as-yet-unreleased match pitting papa Shane McCall ripping my long-time infatuation, Drake Marcos, limb from limb. The double team by Kayden Keller and Jonny Firestorm Camel-Crabbing flyweight phenom Charlie Evans is instantly huge drama making my mouth water. But holy fuck, I need to send OMI a gift basket as gratuity for a couple of extremely rare action pics of Kayden working over the stunningly handsome, hot as fuck classic hunk and declared man-of-my-dreams, a contemporary Scott Williams. Please, homoerotic wrestling gods, hear my prayer that this foreshadows new releases starring the Man of My Dreams!!!
So it appears OMI may be a creeper with sensationally good taste, because this next batch has a ton of BGE stars in various states of sleeping, waking, or possibly just cuddling in bed. Such intimate vulnerability. So many slack, supine, defenseless hunks on display. I have an incredibly strong urge to slide under the covers with Kayden and spoon him awake.
This next batch I’ve filed under “letting their hair down.” As I’ve said often, there’s something potently sexy about seeing the ring warriors of my homoerotic fantasies with their guards down, relaxed, happy, and as is evident in these stolen shots, abundantly goofy. And the goof-in-chief most definitely appears to be The Boss himself, who I hope to the homoerotic wrestling gods never finds out who dished me these cutting room floor shots of him hamming it up. This also reminds me, why haven’t we seen more of sensationally hot boybander, Baby Boy Nino Leone?
Finally, this last batch of relatively random shots I’ve compiled under the heading of BGE boys doing what they do best, namely, looking gorgeous. Reigning HWOTMChase Addams eats shirtless, Drake rehydrates after that match with Papa Shane, and KL, Kayden and Charlie prove how devastatingly handsome they look all cleaned up. And then there’s Ty, Kayden and Jonny looking like they’re acting a Shakespearean scene. Shirtless, of course.
Again, OMI, my deepest gratitude and promise of pseudo-journalistic integrity when it comes to never, ever, under any circumstances up to and including corporal torture, will I disclose anything I know about your true identity. Keep the good times and behind the scenes goodies coming. And all of you BGE boys outed for your handsome smiles and adorability in stolen moments of candid life, keep looking gorgeous. Don’t change a thing.
I’ve seen a lot in eight years of blogging about wrestling. I used to wonder if reflecting on my infatuation with wrestling might make me jaded, if reviewing as much homoerotic wrestling as I do might habituate me to such an extent that it doesn’t get me off anymore. Happily for me, there’s no sign of that happening anytime soon. However, it does take quite a bit to seriously surprise me anymore. I won’t say I’ve seen it all, but I’ve seen countless variations on most of it. I love a surprise, but they are fewer and farther between having seen hundreds of sensationally gorgeous wrestlers applying several dozen different holds in more than a couple of handfuls of different contexts. So to say there’s something novel, even shocking, about Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Oil Hunks 10 is a major compliment coming from me.
Brad Barnes and Damien Rush are ready for a bodybuilding competition
The most obvious shocker is the moment Damien Rush steps on the mat, snarling at Brad Barnes about bogarting the weights back stage at a bodybuilding competition. The backstage bodybuilding story is sweetly novel. It’s the same garage in which most MDW is taped, but the MDW boys continue to put the fantasy in fantasy pro wrestling, and they’ve put their finger on a scenario rich with homoerotic potential. I’ve been turned on by the idea of marginally naked muscle freaks with carb-deprived short fuses strutting and flexing in front of each other with tensions high awaiting their turn to be physique worshipped by screaming fans at a bodybuilding competition. That’s the set-up for Oil Hunks 10. Brad is in minuscule red posing briefs, marginally more than a thong, but not much more. I’ve never seen him in better condition, and I’ve seen him a lot over the past few years. He’s tanned, smooth as butter, and absolutely whittled to massive muscles, bone, and prominent veins. Check out the vascularity on his inner thighs (which sounds like a double entendre, but it isn’t). Fuck, he’s sensationally gorgeous.
A whole new Damien Rush!!!
But no, the real shocker isn’t any of that. It’s Damien. Holy fucking homoerotic wrestling gods! He’s GARGANTUAN! I’ve been a studied fan of Damien’s hot, hairy body from the beginning, but… fuck, his size leaves me speechless. There are gains, and then there’s THIS! Damien is hugely muscled, and his luxurious coat of dark hair typically covering his torso and legs has been entirely shaved (which is a shame, but then again, of course he’s smooth for competition). He’s tanned, but still looks pale compared to the dark bronze of Brad. His weight class is apparently not due to hit the stage for a little while, because Damien is in relatively modest blue cotton briefs. He flexes a double bicep and POW! Those upper arms are just about the biggest I’ve ever seen. He’s lats are magnificently broad. His quads are monstrously huge. Damien has always had a mouthwateringly sexy body, in my estimation. But he has seemingly abruptly gone from sexy pin up boy to, no shit, legitimate bodybuilder in the blink of an eye!
get a load of this character!
“I’m going win this competition,” Damien growls, waving Brad away from the weights he was using to get that last minute pump before hitting the stage. “You got that small fry?” Damien growls. “Okay, big fry,” Brad smirks, looking directly into the camera as if to say get a load of this character!
Even Brad has to admire this!
I’ve found Brad stingy in the past with digging deeply into the homoeroticism of homoerotic wrestling. But he takes a slow lap around Damien, pumping up his huge upper body, and openly admires the heavyweight’s hot muscles. He even goes so far as to agree with Damien that he almost certainly will win his superheavy weight class. Brad is impressed, slowly appraising this newly minted muscle god. “So you’ll take the super heavies,” Brad concludes decisively. “I”ll take the light heavies,” Brad announces without any false modesty. “And, obviously, I’ll take overall.”
Muscle vs. Muscle
Yep, that’s the backstage bodybuilding competition melodrama that I’ve fantasized about plenty long before now. Both boys seem to concede the facts that Damien’s size is superior, but Brad’s conditioning is out of this world over the top. Quantity versus quality. Mass versus aesthetics. Self-infatuated bodybuilder versus self-infatuated bodybuilder, moments before they vie for screaming worshippers. Fuck, the homoerotic potential is tastable.
On your knees!
There are obligatory arm wrestling and tests of strength. They all end up pretty much even, though a highlight for me is watching relatively petite Brad muscle the mountain to his knees. I can no longer find a Wrestler Profile page on the new MDW site, which is a loss, but elsewhere in the homoerotic wrestling universe, I find it suggested that Damien is about 3 inches taller than Brad. I don’t know if it’s the titanic muscle mass Damien is now sporting, but he looks gigantic in comparison to Brad now. So getting powered to his muscled ass in that test of strength is absolutely lovely drama to watch.
Real men hug
Damien fans will be unsurprised to hear that he’s now pissed. If there’s one thing that is entirely static here, it’s Damien’s dialogue/monologues. “Real men wrestle,” Damien growls in that way he has of bitching and whining about getting shown up. “That’s the true test of strength of a real man,” he announces, insisting on a wrestling match mere minutes before they’re both supposed to go on stage. I have to say that MDW has made me sort of hate phrases like “real men,” and “alpha dog.” Damien is one of the chiefest offenders of selling us the packaging that the eroticism of wrestling is rooted in discovering the flawed masculinity of one man when pitted against another. I don’t subscribe to this gender theory. At all. It strikes me as a lazy way of framing homoerotic wrestling motivation for wrestlers who, my hunch is, don’t get it. Damien’s bluster and comic book villain snarling could sour me, frankly, but then I flash back to his sexy ass, erotic-forward humbling by little guys like Charlie Evans and Lorenzo Lowe and I can forgive the bad gender politics and fragile hold on masculinity implied by Damien’s classic “real men” banter.
Brad is a wrestler!
Another surprise in this match is Brad’s wrestling. I’ve always thought he’s ridiculously pretty, and I’ve been satisfied that he’s game for the genre enough to put his superhero jaw and massive pecs at our disposal in a wrestling match. But no shit, Brad sells pro wrestling in Oil Hunks 10! He’s quick and decisive. He fucking dances around Damien’s lumbering muscle bod, smoothly transitioning from a rear bearhug to side headlock to hammerlock with authority. Seriously, he fucking owns all of that hot new beef on big Damien, sucking on the feel of D’s head stuck in the vice in standing headscissors, standing tall and flexing proudly with the big man doubled over and humiliated.
Hottest counter of the year!
One of the best moves I’ve seen in a long time happens when Damien muscles free and starts exploiting his size advantage, bullying Brad around. He squeezes and stretches him. He monologues like the Penguin with Batman suspended by a thread over a pit of alligators. Then he bends Brad backward into a sensationally sexy dragon sleeper. I haven’t mentioned just how tasty Brad’s tightly contained package is in those red posers, but fuck, what a teasing treat seeing him arching backward, totally at Damien’s mercy, his rippled, diamond cut muscles stretched and laid out like a feast. But shockingly, Brad jackknifes, pulling his legs off the mat and snapping them with total authority around Damien’s head. Damien is appropriately stunned, losing his grip on the sleeper and staring wide-eyed at the business end of Brad’s muscled ass now planted across his face. With an expert shift of his center of gravity, Brad yanks Damien off balance, flipping to his back, and landing still locked up sexy-tight in headscissors. Fucking magnificent counter!
That’ll leave a bruise
They don’t talk about it explicitly, but there’s a hot drama to the moment that they start landing strikes. Mind you, Brad is due to be on stage any second. Damien will be up minutes later. So when Brad drives a sharp elbow into Damien’s ribs, I’m thinking, fuck, that’s going to leave a bruise! Moments later when Damien has slammed Brad to the mat and starts stomping the shit out of his gut and upper legs, I keep thinking, damn, you are NOT going to look so pretty after all out there on stage, are you!?
What all that muscle is for
The turning point in the match is when Brad locks Damien’s left arm nice and snug between Brad’s huge upper legs and starts prying Damien’s head off his neck with a sick chin lock. Again, there’s a decisiveness about it that I just don’t expect from Brad. It’s commanding and vicious, and Damien looks like he’s fucked good. Right up until the point that he ducks free from the chinlock, muscles his way up to his knees, and basically arm curls Brad’s entire bodyweight off the mat before slamming the SHIT out of his back pounded across Damien’s knee. It’s over, right there. The power move blows my mind! Damien owns this gorgeous slice of competitive beef then and there, as Brad arches his lower back in agony and genuinely looks like he’s sucking on air.
Time to panic
There’s more muscle domination. This is MDW, after all. Damien starts up the comic book monologuing again. Eventually, he picks Brad up in a fireman’s carry and threatens to throw him across the room. By Brad’s genuine look and sound of panic, I think it’s occurred to him that he’s going to look like shit in a couple of minutes with shiny, oiled up bruises from head to toe when he strolls out on stage. Damien gives him the option of conceding that Damien is destined to win it all. “You’ll win! You’ll win!” Brad pleads.
Slow. The Fuck. Down, Brad.
The “oil” in this Oil Hunks match disappoints me. Brad cannot get this done fast enough. He manages to lather D’s huge body up in under a minute. Muscle worship fans everywhere are going to call a red card on this party foul. This is one of Brad’s perpetual weaknesses, I find. I’m guessing he’s straight, and I’m assuming he doesn’t quite get why I’ve got my dick in hand as I’m watching this match climax, because he doesn’t take his job as “towel boy” (applier of the oil) seriously. If Damien were to actually walk out on stage with an uneven oil application like this, he’d get laughed right back off the stage. More importantly, the sensationally ripe moment of one muscle hunk putting the palms of his hands all over another muscle hunk’s body is woefully undersold by suddenly-bro Brad. I’ve seen him pull away from the spoils of defeat like this before. It gives an unmistakable hit of a dude choking down the “ick” factor and clocking in his most superficial attention in order to just get this discomfort over with. I wish he ‘d just fucking suck it up and sell his appreciation for another man’s body about half as well as he sells his own suffering (as of late). He can be bitter about it all he wants. Mores the fun, really. But the self-consciousness ruins the denouement of this otherwise shockingly hot, hard, huge hit.
He said ENJOY IT, Brad!
Damien looks a little pissed about it as well, which makes me rescind some of my earlier comments about his not getting it. “Get on your knees,” he commands Brad after getting the sloppiest oiling up in bodybuilding competition history. I shit you not, Brad rolls his eyes a little, because he’s so fucking self-conscious in this moment. “Get on our knees and enjoy staring up at the true champion!” Damien barks, flashing his huge, shiny (in patches), shockingly developed physique for his vanquished opponent to garnish and you and I to feast our eyes on.
In moments, Brad looks like he fucking loves this
Oil Hunks 10 has a sweet balance of story and wrestling. The physiques are s-t-u-n-n-i-n-g! The scenario is sensationally novel with a hit of authenticity (like, I feel pretty convinced that these guys are actually, genuinely, both bodybuilding competition-ready). Brad sells himself as a legitimately skilled pro wrestler better than I’ve ever seen him before, and Damien is… MASSIVE. I’ll knock them both for perennial character weaknesses, but honestly, this is super satisfying bodybuilder on bodybuilder pro wrestling gut checks.
I’ve got my oil in hand, boys!
And if either of these beasts needs a more willing “towel boy” than Brad was, to meticulously apply baby oil to every last inch of their gorgeous muscles with perfect precision and enthusiasm, give me a call boys.
The waning days of the month are here, and I still have yet to anoint a new reigning Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month for an appearance in a new release in April. Checking the archives, this time of year appears to often be a time when I get behind the eight ball on these self-imposed deadlines. In any case, I technically have 2 and a half more days to get this done, so let’s do this. Tons of great wrestling in April turned my crank hard, but truth be told, none turned my crank harder than one particular match I’ve spoken about at length. And by the slimmest margins, I’m calling the hairs breadth difference in delightful sell between the two opponents for one particular, inspiring young hunk…
Check my review of Ring Rookies 5 as well as my recent interview with the Charming One himself for a more exhaustive breakdown of what got me off so fiercely about Chase’s wrestling in this new release. I went back and forth quite a while deciding whether Charlie Evans should get the laurel wreath for the sensationally sexy beating he takes like a pro. As readers point out to me often, in takes two to tango, and there’s something patently artificial about being infatuated with a match but singling out just one opponent for top honors. So let me assure little Charlie that his breathtaking Ginger Snaps, Ginger Bombs, and squeezably sexy ass get credit for at least a bucket full of the sweat and cum this match wringed out of me.
Savoring the moment
Chase edged Charlie out by my fascination with watching the Charming One savor the erotic moments in this match. Of course, I totally get it when a pro wrestler heaps contempt upon an opponent. Swollen egos and raw ambition make the pro wrestling world go round. But this is homoerotic wrestling for a gay audience, and I prefer to watch more complex motivations play themselves out. As Chase confirmed in our interview, it was teasingly apparent as he hovered over and stroked and squeezed Charlie’s bon-bon body that Chase was transparently turned on by the wounded Ginger Warrior. When he’s left Charlie good and vulnerable, nearly defenseless, he frequently takes the time to seductively mount him. He dives in, his lips grazing Charlie’s neck and ears.
9/10ths of the law
It’s tender, which makes sense in the context of this match because Chase can afford to be tender when he’s laid waste to Charlie. There’s a strong hit of the rights of ownership, as Chase tenderizes his opponent and then leans in close to smell the dish in progress. He manages the two agendas with mature skill, both conquering the challenger trying to steal some of his spotlight, as well as taking carnal pleasure from the alabaster flyweight with the sweet as honey ass. That open nod to the eroticism of wrestling is always immense value added for me.
It takes effort to sell this well
I’m also perennially drawn to wrestlers who get wrestling. Chase and Charlie are both workhorses in the match. As Chase alluded to in the interview, Charlie is marked up like a AAA triptik, because whatever behind the curtain choreography, these boys genuinely pounded and pried each other apart. The sweat looks legitimately earned. The flying soars. The power moves explode. The endurance holds linger long and hard, and the submissions scream in pain. I’ve got an overwhelming desire to oil them both down naked by the end of the match and massage every aching bruise and taxed muscle. Nobody’s bored, not Charlie, not Chase, and most definitely not me, and I respect the fuck out genuine wrestlers working their asses off.
Picture this entirely naked.
I try not to let factors outside of a match influence my HWOTM calls, but I will freely confess that it definitely didn’t hurt Chase’s chances that he continued to charm the pants off of me in our interview last week. Thinking of Ring Rookies 5 as one more step on Chase’s trajectory toward becoming a full on erotic heel makes me see his battle with Charlie in a way that I just can’t unsee now. The image of a full on naked Will Breaker has been haunting my dreams ever since it came up in my conversation with him. And did you notice those last words he spoke to me in that interview? No, this isn’t the first time that a wrestler has been elevated in my rankings as a result of a beautifully executed charm offensive.
Going for the gold
I continue to keep an eye on his young career for a half a dozen different compelling reasons (see how long I managed to refrain from mentioning his nipples!?). I enjoy his energy, his style, his ambition, his holds, and yes, his look. I predict an easy HWOTM title split between the two of them (for only the second time in history) should Chase and Dark Charlie become that erotic heel tag team that I crave. In the mean time, join me in getting your pants charmed off by my newest two-time homoerotic wrestler of the month, Chase Addams.
Chase Addams – Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month – April 2017
Last month’s release of Ring Rookies 5 marked the sophomore appearance of Chase Addams at BG East. He made a big impression on me in his debut last summer as a newbie featured in an unprecedented two matches on one DVD in Tag Team Torture 19. When I got the chance to interview him and his already-former tag team partner, Ty Alexander, I could easily see why Chase has already earned the defining adjective of “charming.” Frankly, I’ve been jonesin’ to see Charming Chase climb into the ring again, and was delighted as fuck to finally get my wish granted in his fantastic match against another hot rookie charmer, Charlie Evans. Having formally reviewed the match earlier, I was further thrilled to get Charming Chase on the line for another interview, breaking down his most recent ring performance and speculating on all things homoerotic wrestling.
Charming Chase Addams
Bard: Chase Addams, welcome back to my interview chair! What have you been up to since we spoke last summer?
Chase: Thanks Bard, I haven’t been up to too terribly much. I’ve moved from the country to the city recently, more people who wrestle and hone my craft with.
Bard: Congratulations on the move. Lucky urbanites who now have the opportunity to get into your wrestling schedule! I also remember a sensationally intense promo you posted on Facebook around the New Year. As I remember, that video caught a whole lot attention, including from The Boss himself.
Chase: Ah, yes, the reaction video. It was less a promo and more so a stream of consciousness. I was just giving my honest feedback on how I felt the results from the “end of year” voting came out. I may or may not have called out some people and thrown some others under the bus.
Bard: Congratulations on the huge success that your Tag Team Torture 19 did in the polls. Best Ring Match and Best Overall Match for your first on camera appearances at BG East is an epic achievement. As I recall, from your video reaction, you weren’t quite satisfied, though. You took issue with Beauxregard edging you out for Best Debut, and even called out Jonny Firestorm for coasting to the Top Heel award.
Beauxregard – Debut of the Year 2016
Chase: What can I say? Fans certainly have their tastes, Beaux and I definitely appeal to two very different customers. I’m the young, thin, crafty grappler, and he is the big muscle daddy. BG does its best to please everyone. As a mutual friend pointed out, Beaux is willing to get naked in every match. I’m not about that life personally. I won’t say it will never happen, but when it does, I want it to be especially memorable. Beaux is almost a reminder of someone like BBW, so while I’m not “okay” losing the vote to him, I can rationalize it. Jonny is a little different. Jonny is someone that I always looked up to and aspired to be like even before I stepped foot into a BG ring. He’s undoubtedly one of the top heels of the company, which is why I called him out. When you need to make a name for yourself, you call out the biggest dog in the yard and you put him down.
Bard: That sounds like a mature response to a disappointing loss in the polls. As for you wrestling naked, let me just be the first to say, “yes, please!” A little tease can definitely make the gift that much more enjoyable to unwrap. Just don’t tease us forever. Gay wrestling fans are notoriously fickle.
Chase: [laughing] Our community does have a thing for instant gratification. There is no patience anymore. Oh, fuck, no, we are completely intolerant of delayed gratification these days. Alas.
Biggest dog in the yard Jonny Firestorm
Bard: I love that you’ve got your sights set on Jonny. And again, it sounds like you’ve made a mature, careful calculation that getting the respect you feel you deserve requires you to take on the best. Speaking of delays and prolonged teases, it seemed to me like there was a long delay between your debut DVD last summer and your follow-up appearance with BG East just a couple of weeks ago.
Chase: Yeah, how about that? Patience is a virtue, but even I was starting to get a little curious as to what was going on. I have learned that they try to group similar matches together for a DVD, such as tag team torture or backyard brawl. And to be fair, I have shown up with some “new” match ideas, and I can now see the problem with those being that there aren’t other like-matches to group them with onto a single DVD. Perhaps I can film a few more unique matches, and they can just put a compilation of them together and call it Chase’s Charm School.
Taking Charlie to charm school
Bard: Damn, that’s… a fantastic idea! And I love that you’re already picturing yourself as the anchor of a franchise. I reviewed your Ring Rookies 5 match recently, and needless to say, I loved it. A lot. With just 3 matches in your catalog so far, already 2 of them are grudge matches. Is that first tag team loss going to haunt you forever, do you think?
Christian Taylor’s “pretty little head”
Chase: I feel like “haunt” isn’t the best word to use. If I was being haunted by something, it would be terrorizing me. Personally I feel like those three who got in my way in the tag team match are the ones who should be hiding from me. Ty and Charlie have already fallen victim. If Christian knows what’s good for him, he will stay off my radar. That being said, I really hope he flies onto my radar.
Bard: It’s certainly true you’ve picked off both Ty and now Charlie in singles competition, and I’d pay money to see BGE’s resident kissing champ, Christian Taylor, face down your Will Breaker again. Fuck, I’d pay triple if that were to turn into your first full Monty match.
Chase: Who knows. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. Christian has to rear his pretty little head first. If he doesn’t, there are a few others I’ve been scoping out as possibilities.
Bard: Sweet homoerotic wrestling gods, I’m just picturing Christian, stripped naked, trussed up in your Will Breaker. Fuck, talk about a haunting image. I will use every Jedi mind trick at my disposal to get that match to happen. Your match against adorable Charlie Evans certainly turned brutal, now didn’t it?
Chase: What I wouldn’t do to get my hands all over Charlie Evans all over again.
Chase gets his hands all over Charlie
Bard: I definitely noted that you seemed to enjoy your hands lingering on Charlie’s tight, taut little muscles. Am I correct that wrestling Charlie was turning you on?
Chase: I will let you decide for yourself.
Bard: Well, if it were up to me, that match would’ve been both your and Charlie’s full Monty debut. I’m a big fan of the fiery, earnest little Ginger Warrior for a lot of reasons. What is about Charlie that inspired you to stroke and squeeze and sample his flyweight body?
Eyes on the prize
Chase: He’s just so innocent and pure… I want to corrupt him.
Bard: [laughing] Fuck, that’s hot. He does have a bit of Dudley Do-right about him, doesn’t he? I’ve been crushing on his tight ass for a long time, so I just have to ask what it was like digging your fingertips into those sweet, snowy white cheeks?
The dance
Chase: Like I said, I’d do anything to get my hands back on him. I feel like I will someday. Charlie and I have debuted together, and I feel like we’re going to be doing this dance together for a long time to come.
Bard: I’m infatuated by your infatuation! As you know, I’ve been following this industry fanatically for a long time, and I think it’s about time we saw a premier young wrestler who is primarily motivated to climb back into the ring by pure lust. I love the bro-downs, the macho need to be top dog and all of that, but a sexy young stud who just wants to conquer an opponent in order to satisfy erotic desire is so needed in this business! We should be clear that Charlie was most definitely no pushover against you, though.
Ginger tricks
Chase: Charlie caught me off guard for sure. Those same tricks won’t happen again. He had better learn new tricks or be waiting for me on a silver platter.
Bard: I think you and Charlie also have in common an honest appreciation for the science and art of pro wrestling. You both take a lot of pride in innovating and branding your signature moves. His Ginger Snap is one of the sexiest maneuvers I’ve seen in a long time. But he couldn’t pull that move off on you a second time.
Chase: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. He’s definitely going to think twice before attempting that again with me.
Ginger Snap Interrupted
Bard: Your counter to his Ginger Snap was a sight to behold. For fans who haven’t seen it, just as Charlie went in for a handstand, locking his legs around your head to snap you head over heels to the mat, you actually grab him around the back and pull him up onto your chest, your face buried in his crotch. The lingering pause right at the moment is sooooo sexy. But I’m sure you’re right, he won’t soon forget you power slamming him to his back from 6 feet in the air.
Chase: I do like to leave a mark.
Bard: Fuck, his porcelain white skin is so marked up with hot, fire engine red marks by the end of that match. I loved getting another look at your Will Breaker. Actually, you tie Charlie up twice in that gravity defying hold. I count 3 times you’ve applied the Will Breaker on camera, and you’ve milked out a screaming submission every time. Do you think of that as your signature move?
Will Breaker
Chase: It’s weird to think of the Will Breaker as the signature move, because I can’t apply it on everyone. I learned that lesson the hard way when I was first learning how to do the move. I got overly ambitious with a guy who was a little heavier than I was and ended up in the ER. Suspending someone’s entire body weight isn’t easy. It’s a challenge of strength and balance.
Bard: Damn, that sounds like a hard lesson to have learned. I’m glad you came out of it to wrestle another day. You certainly have a deeper arsenal of holds than most rookies I’ve seen. Do you improvise a lot, based on what you encounter in the midst of the match, or are you more of a planner, climbing in with a game plan and executing it?
Chase: I go into each match with a plan, but as you saw with Charlie, sometimes I lose myself in the moment and go purely off instinct. I wasn’t planning on holding Charlie by the neck against me as I ran my free hand across his sexy body, but it happened in the moment, and I couldn’t have asked for anything better.
The art of improvisation
Bard: Well, that was inspired, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve gone on the record saying that I think pristine little Charlie could very well snap at some point at show us a truly momentous heel turn for the ages. You place-kicking him in the balls, nibbling on his ear, putting him out cold in a figure-4 choke have got to help that process along. What do you think of the idea of Charlie turning dark?
Chase: I’d love to be the one to help him find that inner darkness.
Bard: Would you ever team up again for a tag match, say with Dark Charlie, or did Tag Team Torture 19 spoil you for team efforts?
Chase: Well, I’ll never say never
Bard: So you’ve got your sights set on Jonny, you could poke the bear that is Beauxregard, and you fully expect to find Charlie in your orbit in the future. Who else do you think could end up being another stepping stone along your path to conquer BG East?
#1 Jayden Mayne
Chase: Jayden Mayne will forever remain my number one most desired opponent. I have always been a huge fan of his work. There are others who I feel are in everyone’s sights like Kid Karisma (and for good reason). Two new people who I’ve seen that I really enjoyed was Cap Landon and Zip Zarella. Joey King is also one who would be fun. Outside of that there are some others who haven’t made a debut or even a recording yet, but I hear whispers of talks being done. I won’t divulge the rumor mill with any names since all I’ve heard are whisperings with no confirmations.
Bard: I’ll keep plying you with charm until I get your secrets out of you.
Chase: Hmm, out charming me? That’d be a first.
Bard: [laughing] I can always try. I love your short list of opponents to tackle. I’m a long-standing fan of Jayden, and I’m also a little instantly infatuated with Zip and Cap. I’ve seen some pretty fucking inspiring victory poses of you on your Facebook page, celebrating over the beaten bodies of some private opponents. Are your private matches an asset for your BG East work? Are you able to try out new holds, or do those tend to be less competitive?
Keeping on top of the local competition
Chase: The St. Louis wrestling community isn’t nearly as large as the ones in a place like Boston, so we are really closely knit group. We try to meet every few weeks to at least practice holds to make sure we’re not getting rusty or to try out new things. It’s pretty great.
Bard: I like hearing that there’s a camaraderie there. That definitely sounds like an asset. Speaking of assets, I don’t know that I’ve talked since you were my personal pick for Best Nipples of 2016. I hope all the attention on our nips doesn’t end up making them a target for future opponents.
Chase: I don’t mind having a target on me. Comes with being the best.
Chase a couple of days ago, in fighting shape
Bard: Well, in that case, consider me painting two targets right there across your hot chest! There’s definitely a whole different line of offense for wrestling in homoerotic circles when compared to mainstream pro. I know you’re a fanatical student of pro, but when it comes to underground gay, do you feel like you’re well-prepared for the nipple torture, ball bashing, cock stroking angles that some BG East matches hinge upon?
Chase: I’m more than ready.
Bard: Sensational! I’m looking forward to it. As both a wrestler and a fan, are there aspects of wrestling that you find a particular turn on? Particular holds? Body types? Character types?
Chase: I just love the psychological aspect. The hunter/prey thing peaks my “interest.”
That moment a predator sinks his teeth into his prey
Bard: I hear you. The drama of the conquest sorts me right out. Some hot, cocky wrestler getting broken and owned is definitely “interesting” to me. Which I think is what grabs me so hard with your career thus far. Your last two matches are so motivated. You walk in with a point to make, and bit by bit, hold by hold, you make it. With a few matches now under your belt, what advice would you give to total newbies just about to sign up for their first BG East match?
Chase: [laughing] Stay out of my way or be bent into a pretzel.
Bard: That sounds like sage advice that I most certainly hope that no one follows! Is there anything more you can tell fans about your plans for upcoming matches? Any new holds you’re working?
Chase: Oh, I’m always working on new holds and things of that nature. I can’t go into details about upcoming releases, but like I said earlier, I film “unique” matches which is why my releases are kind of spread out. Just know that when my name is placed in the catalog that I’m about to steal the show.
Bard: Well, my heart pumps faster when I see a new release with your name on it. You continue to be charming, as advertised. I want to thank you for returning to my interview chair again. I hope it won’t be the last time.
In all honesty, I admit that I sometimes engage in borderline stalking to line up an interview. Nothing too creepy. At least, I hope not. But I sleuth around a bit to try to finagle contact information for a wrestler I’m wanting to chat up (for journalistic purposes, of course). So, sometimes my interviews emerge from what feels like a lot of effort, tedious legwork, and more than a hefty dose of flattery and persuasion to get a hunk to let me pepper him with questions. But then again, sometimes it just seems to happen organically. Show up someplace. Someone looks familiar, but I’m struggling to put my finger on how I recognize him. Start up a chat, and next thing I know, I discover that I’m already enjoying getting to know a hot hunk who also just happens to appear stripped to next to nothing and working up a sweat in wrestling competition on a homoerotic wrestling site I frequent. It was more that second scenario that landed me a delightful on-the-record interview with none other than BG East babyface badboy, the rosy cheeked Canadian, Hawk Rodman. He’s relatively new to the scene, thus my delayed recognition. I admit to being more than a little curious about Hawk, based on his wrestling resume at BG East and some backstory provided by the BGE website. Since I’ve written my share of those BGE website match descriptions, I know for a fact that they can sometimes include some strategic embellishments of wrestlers’ histories, so I was fascinated to see how well the PR lines up with the man named Hawk. Once we sorted out how our world’s overlap, this was how the conversation went when he agreed to go on the record:
Bard: Hawk Rodman, I’m always excited to get the chance to talk to an up-and-comer at BG East. In your match with Skip Vance, he mentions that you’re Canadian. How does someone from notoriously well-mannered, low-key Canada find his way into the brutal, nasty, vicious world of BG East wrestling?
Hawk: Good question. When I became aware and fell in love with all aspects of BG, I emailed the Boss and told him how much I love the matches BG offers. He promptly wrote back and we connected in a chatroom. After much chatting he invited me to Pembroke to film some matches.
Bard: The match description online for your debut match against Jonny Firestorm says that you intended from the start to build a career as a heel. What attracts you about the role of a pro wrestling heel?
Hawk: Being a heel comes naturally to me, despite my low-key upbringing. I have a dominant streak that must be satisfied and usually does. People often don’t catch on to that side of me, but they learn quickly.
Bard: I could definitely see that. I hope you don’t mind me saying that you have a handsome, baby face, so it’s that much more exciting to watch you lick your lips and really sink your teeth into little Skip Vance in your Wrestle Shack match. Does it work in your favor, when opponents don’t recognize how badass you are at first?
You want to pinch those adorable cheeks, don’t you? I dare you.
Hawk: Well, thank you. I enjoyed sinking my teeth into little Skip. He was a great opponent and sexy as hell. Oftentimes, it does work in my favor, and other times I get my ass beat, like with Jonny.
Wrecked by the best
Bard: Damn, you got mauled by Jonny! What an epic beat down! Were you rethinking this whole foray into BG East wrestling by the end of that match?
Hawk: Oh, hell no! I had my ass served to me on a platter, but wouldn’t trade it for anything. Have to be able to take it as well and dish it out.
Bard: Well, the beating you take in that match is breathtaking to watch. Jonny is in rare form, and you just keep egging him on. Even when you concede, you’re swearing at him. Did you pick up any of Jonny’s deep bag of tricks on the receiving end of that beat down?
Hawk: Jonny is one of a kind! I was more focused on surviving that match and coming out in one piece!
Bard: Were you so focused on surviving that you weren’t even aware of just how hot Jonny’s body is? Because I could swear I noticed you copping a feel of his hot ass on more than one occasion, which, frankly, I think is pure genius.
Hawk samples Jonny’s ass
Hawk: (laughing) I was more than aware, and, yes, I was sampling that hot ass. I may have been down, but not dead.
Bard: (laughing) Genius! Any wrestler who has his wits about him enough to get the shit kicked out of him and still grab a hot ass in the process is my hero! I also don’t know that I’ve ever seen Jonny’s bulge so… bulging as it was in your match with him. How was it for you, when he was schoolboy pinning you and slapping down that massively stuffed pouch across your face?
Punishmentreward
Hawk: It felt more like a reward as opposed to the humiliating pin that it was. I certainly wasn’t complaining!
Bard: Although it was a very different match, I also didn’t get a sense that you had any complaints about your match with Skip Vance, either. The sexual tension in the wrestle shack was palpable before you two even started wrestling!
Instant sexual tension
Hawk: Yes we could taste the tension, and I was very eager to own him! He has quite the super twink body with a hot little ass.
Bard: It was fabulous to see your darker side in this match. Again, you’ve got that baby face, and then that’s such a contrast to when you really start to bully Skip. A couple of times you grab him by the back of the neck and toss his skinny body into a wall, and it’s so sexy to watch. Does taking ownership of an opponent like that turn you on?
Hawk grabs his prey
Hawk: That “dark side,” as you put it, is my true self shining through. Dominate your opponent and own him, as much as the match permits. Yes, it does turn me on.
Bard: I’ve got a little trigger response to hearing Skip cry in pain, so you can just imagine how aroused I was throughout that match. He’s most definitely no pushover, though. He’s scrappy and surprisingly strong for his size. Is it hotter for you when an opponent makes you work that hard for it, or would you just as soon squash him like a bug and take possession of your prize?
Hawk takes possession
Hawk: Definitely just squash him like an insect and take ownership! That rarely happens though. The one-sided squash isn’t that common especially for new guys. You have to show what you’re made of, what you can bring to the ring. Often times you’re wrestling a hotter opponent, and if you can make him look good, hopefully he will return the favor. As long as I win more than I loose.
“Fuck you, I can’t breathe!” You think I want you to breathe?!
Bard: Well, I would not be one to argue that you are an ounce less hot than Skip. And when you are really plowing into him near the end, totally in control, wearing him the fuck out, you are sensationally hot to watch dominating him. There’s this moment where you’ve just choked him to yet another whimpering, crying submission, and he bitches at you about not being able to breathe. You literally slap him in the face and ask, “You think I want you to breathe!?” Right at that moment, you can watch Skip’s smart ass, fun-and-games clowning around come to a screeching halt. … I’m supposed to be asking you a question here, but I’m realizing that I just want to fawn a little bit over how sexy you are in the saddle!
Hawk: Glad you liked the match. It was a lot of fun to wrestle him! I think it was a good showcase for both of us.
Fabrice got a handle on Hawk!
Bard: And speaking of your win-loss record, your most recent match against Fabrice was a nail-biter to the very bitter end. You struggled against his super sexy, incredibly lean body to generate some momentum. How was Fabrice able to derail you?
Hawk: He was another great opponent. It was a good back and forth match, and I will admit that he won, although I want a rematch ASAP. I may have been a bit overconfident and mildly distracted by his tight body.
Bard: Fabrice has got to know that his ass comes nowhere close to being contained in those ultra skinny tights of his, doesn’t he? Is he intentionally distracting, or is it possible he doesn’t know just how hot he is?
“He’s quite modest and humble…”
Hawk: He’s quite modest and humble, and I think he might not know just how hot he is. He’s seems to gravitate towards those skin tights, though (laughing).
Hawk’s ass belongs to Fabrice… this time.
Bard: It’s pretty sensational to watch Fabrice celebrate his victory by climbing on and grinding into your sexy ass, but I have to admit that I’m partial to watching you at the end of your match with Skip, thrusting crotch-to-crotch and sucking his tonsils out. Since you have your eye on your win-loss record, who else would you like to pound into whimpering, slack-jawed submission at BG East?
Bard: You will! And you have impeccable taste. Payton Meadows is another dazzling hunk who made a huge impression on me last year. I think I remember from the match descriptions online that Payton is another Canadian. Do you and he travel in the same circles?
Hawk: Yes, we do. I’d say chances are high that we could meet this summer. He is incredible! I have a few ideas that I want to float by him, to make it as hot as possible!
Bard: Incredible, to say the least! Talk about distracting! Please tell me this “meeting” will be on camera, because I am dying to see someone appreciate his muscled ass the way it so abundantly deserves.
Hawk: Certainly hope so! There’s so much of him to appreciate, too.
Bard: Your first three matches have been remarkably different, in outcome and in style. Do you see yourself more as a ring wrestler or a mat wrestler at this point in your career?
Hawk: More of a mat wrestler, mainly because I hardly ever get experience in the ring! Hopefully that will change this summer…you never know.
Bard: So, the longer we talk, the more I keep marveling at how easy going and low key you are. So Canadian! Would the people you interact with, day in and day out, ever guess that you are actually a hot, fierce, erotic wrestler who gets off on conquering and claiming opponents?
Typical Canadian, eh?
Hawk: Only my best friend knows that. The calm, quiet side of me is what I am known for. Typical Canadian eh?!
Bard: Well, this Yankee’s stereotype of a typical Canadian. Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions about your body?
Hawk: Go right ahead.
Hawk beefs up
Bard: Well, let me start by saying it’s hot as fuck. You’re significantly beefier in your most recent match with Fabrice than in your older matches with Jonny and Skip. Are you intentionally building muscle mass for the mat?
Hawk: Thanks for saying that. I’m trying to build mass in general; not an easy feat when you are naturally lean. Although it does come in handy on the mat!
Muscle and mass come in handy
Bard: That’s exactly what I was thinking. I mean, if you’re facing down Charlie Evans or MJ Vergara, you could be super lean and still completely physically dominate, at least when it comes to sheer size. But Brad Rochelle or Kid Karisma or even Christian Taylor have enough weight and height advantage to make being lean a tough row to hoe for an aspiring heel like you.
Hawk: Exactly my thinking! Christian has the height working for him, but it would be a fair fight. I’d have to play dirty if I wanted a decent shot at Brad and Kid K! No problem there.
Bard: God, I love the sound of that. There are quite a few hot muscleboys on your wish list. Do you have a “type” that you prefer?
Hawk: I suppose a good, defined body to beat on and torture, is what I prefer. Not too fussy.
Kid Karisma has “a good, defined body to beat on and torture!”
Bard: So let’s say you’ve got Kid Karisma beaten down. First of all, an incredibly rare accomplishment, but for the sake of argument, let’s jump to that point in the match. The momentum is all yours, but he hasn’t conceded yet. He’s still a smart ass. Still talking trash and refusing to accept the inevitable. What would be your go-to submission hold to wring a screaming submission out of Kid K’s divinely muscled body?
Hawk: Good choice in victims! I would have to keep it simple and go with a camel/choke combo. Tighten it and relax just before a tap, repeat three times to wear him down to submission. Then take advantage of him, strip him, get naked myself and have some fun, cock to cock and liplocked.
Bard: Fuck! I swoon. You are so completely blowing me away. On the one hand you come across so charming and unassuming, downright demure. Then you scratch just beneath the surface and there’s this magnificently hot, aggressive, hungry grappler who can’t wait to get his hands (and the rest of your body) all over an opponent. The boys at BGE have no idea what’s in store for them, do they?
Hawk: Some of them don’t.
Bard: I cannot wait to watch you tear someone apart again. I know you said you aren’t fussy, but I’m hoping to see you get your hands (and lips) all over some serious BGE muscle. And I will personally start a GoFundMe page to pay you a bonus to be the first to strip Kid Karisma naked and grind him into the mat!
Hawk: It gets better and better! I love destroying some serious muscle!
Bard: I predict great things for you, Hawk Rodman. Is there anything else that you think fans should know about you, in order to understand what makes you tick?
Hawk: I think you covered all the bases. I’ve enjoyed chatting with you!
Bard: It’s been a huge pleasure for me. You’re generous with your time and kind with my fawning appreciation. You’re polite and articulate. All that, paired with a scorching hot compulsion to erotically dominate an opponent, makes you a sensational wrestler to watch. Thanks for your time!
Hawk: You’re more than welcome. Stay in touch!
Bard: Count on it.
Looking forward to watching Hawk climb back in the saddle soon!
Of course, I like them blond, tanned, and pretty. I like a wrestler with massive, broad pecs and a muscled ass. I like them confident and earnest. But then comes along someone like Royce Perry and I just can’t help but take an instant disliking to him. He’s too blond. He’s a fraction too tanned and pretty. His pecs are too perfect. He’s tilted just over the edge of too much confidence, too much earnest attention on the overall arc of his wrestling career. A little like I have a raging desire to watch Kirk Donahue get broken in half, I’m developing a taste for watching Royce’s dazzling beauty and obvious pro wrestling skills take a humiliating kick up that glorious ass of his.
I was surprised by how much satisfaction I took watching Zip Zarella beat the living shit out of Royce in their debut. And showing up for his follow-up match in Ring Rookies 5 on the heels of that first outing, Royce just keeps rubbing me the wrong way. There’s a bully-quarterback vibe about him as he scoffs and smirks at his newbie opponent, handsome lightweight Cap Landon. I immediately translate this confrontation to the über-popular prom king jock cornering the skinny, adorkable president of the AV club out back behind the bleachers, intent on tormenting the nerd.
Rip the fucking pretty head right off, Cap!
Maybe that’s what Royce had in mind stepping into the ring with whittled down, painfully pale, handsome Cap. They shake hands, and then instantly the pretty boy starts to muscle bully the lightweight. Cap doesn’t go down willingly, and so abruptly, dazzling Royce grabs the newbie by the hair and slams him face-first in the mat. “Give up, kid,” Royce advises half-heartedly, like he’s clocking in at the assembly line and already half-bored with the inevitability of his victory. So when Cap shimmies into position to snap those lean, pale legs around Royce’s head, I’m pulling hard for the revenge of the nerds. The headscissors are lush and lingering, grinding into Royce’s excessively pretty blond head. “Yeah,” Cap spits and sneers, “how’s that for a kid?”
“You look like shit!” Cap snarls from underneath.
For the record, Royce rides roughshod over Cap a lot of this match. The kid is reportedly giving away around 40 pounds of weight, which is surely mostly accounted for in Royce’s massive, meaty pecs and magnificently round ass cheeks. But what I particularly like about Cap is that he’s not the fresh meat that Royce clearly thinks he is. He’s astonishingly skilled, executing reversals and neutralizing counters like a seasoned pro. And he’s got and adamantium-coated core, because the more Royce bullies and dominates him, the more Cap gets smart-assed and determined not to give the quarterback the satisfaction. Royce snap suplexes him, and drags him up by a barehanded choke. “Now you’re done,” Royce announces. “No I’m not!!!” Cap growls past the choking hand around his throat. Royce flexes his bulging biceps seductively, hips twisted slightly to the side to show off his incredibly lean waist, washboard abs, and tapered V torso. It’s so douchey. “You look like shit!” Cap snarls, and it makes me crush on him that much more. “Your body sucks!” he insults what is obviously the quarterback narcissist’s most vulnerable attribute: that annoying ego. Royce shrugs and smirks. Again. That fucking smirk. “Your mom loves it!” Royce pulls out that old douchey yo-mamma angle to insult the kid he’s bullying.
Humiliating the quarterback
At this point, it should come as no surprise to learn that I’m hard as granite and ready to pop a load right around the time that Cap suddenly leaps on Royce’s broad, muscular back, and wraps his lean right arm across the quarterback’s throat. His lean, stark white legs wrapped around Royce’s Coppertone torso dig in tight, latching on and locking down the stumbling jock good. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Cap taunts, his lips hovering near Royce’s ear, “just tell me you give.” Of course, there is something for Royce to be embarrassed about. He’s getting owned by the president of the AV club. He’s got a two and half stone weight advantage, and he’s been told by everyone, his entire life that he deserves everything, that slapping around the plebes are just part of the privilege of being the top jock on campus, that his ascendency is foreordained. Honestly, I’m already cumming when Royce half sags under the weight of Cap and chokes out the first fall, totally shocked submission. I’m still shooting when Cap doesn’t let go for a few more seconds, dragging Royce right to the edge of getting choked out cold not 5 minutes into the match. But he lets him go finally, and walks away slowly, hands on hips, cocky as fuck. Nice work, Cap.
“You got lucky!” Royce bitches.
Lest I leave you with the mistaken impression that Cap does to Royce what Zip did, let me be clear: Royce wears the ghostly pale lightweight down to a nub in the end. But I love it that losing that first fall is so clearly, irritatingly way up underneath Royce’s skin the entire time. “You got lucky!” he bitches and whines like a spoiled rotten daddy’s boy. He keeps pounding him, keeps flexing, keeps taunting. Cap splayed out and completely vulnerable in an OTK backbreaker deserves a sculpture in the Louvre. Even a bitter case of “fuck-you” stubbornness and shockingly compelling ring skills can’t keep a rockin’ sexy nerd with a plan like Cap in the mix for long.
Not done with you yet, Cap.
If I’m being completely honest here, I have to admit that the second hottest moment of this match is right around the time Cap is actually dragging his battered body as quickly as possible to the ropes to try to flee the scene of the mugging that this has become. Despite myself, my cock aches as Royce drags the skinny nerd back by a fist full of hair, flinging him into a turnbuckle and flexes in his face. “You…” Cap gasps for air, eyes half-lidded, knees wobbly, hanging from the ropes, “you… flex like a bitch!”
“Oh, yeah, no kids for you” Royce taunts like a douche.
Fuck, I feel a little guilty for how much satisfaction I take at Cap remaining a smart ass to the bitter end. It earns him a brutal ass whooping. Royce crushes him and then rubs salt in the wound with a slow 3 count final pin. Probably just for that last burst of smart-assness, Royce circles back and heel stomps Cap in the balls before exiting the building.
I’ve got baby oil in hand, Cap.
So Royce is supposed to be the pretty one, the body beautiful. He’s supposed to be the looker, the headliner. But honestly, all I can think as this brutality comes to an end is how much I just want to rub down Cap’s bruised muscles with baby oil. Don’t get discouraged, Cap. In 10 years, Royce is going to have a bear belly and will still be living off adolescent glory of beating up the AV nerds behind the bleachers. And if my prayers to the homoerotic gods are answered, you, Cap, will have been eating right, lifting weights, and expanding your arsenal to drag Royce’s hot ass kicking and screaming back into the ring for an epic revenge of the nerds, homoerotic wrestling style.
Chase Addams and Charlie Evans take one another on without tag team partners
The size of my excitement for the release of Ring Rookies 5 is HUGE. I have choice words to say about all 3 matches, but the first match on the collection gets the credit for most of my massive excitement. Both Charlie Evans and Chase Addams have held my lustful attention both by impressing the fuck out of me in their dual debut tag team match last summer, as well as by charming the pants off of me in interviewsafterward. Both boys are virtually dripping with youth and ambition. Each in his own way embodies outrageously attractive earnestness and downright devotion to the science and art of professional wrestling. I’ve been eagerly awaiting both boys’ follow-up matches after making such notable debuts in 2016. And there’s already a grudge to get this ball rolling. FUCK, I love backstory. I love a grudge. I love character motivation and a well-told story. And I go absolutely nuts for all of that successfully executed by two doe-eyed babies with fully formed personalities and seriously deep wrestling arsenals.
Potently packed
When it comes to fuckability, I’ll take one of each of these hot little cuts of veal. Actually, I’ll take two of Charlie, because he’s small. Which makes it that much more of a cheek that the ginger phenom is smirking like the Cheshire Cat, downright gloating to start things off, still basking in the afterglow of securing a debut ring victory as one half of the All-American babyface heroes from Tag Team Torture 19. True, he’s physically dwarfed by Chase’s 40 pound (or thereabouts) advantage in weight. But Charlie is so sensationally puffed up and proud of himself, squaring off against an opponent who, last he saw, was flat on his back, out cold, and suffering a totally humiliating defeat at the hands of the All-Americans. There’s something so upright and earnest about Charlie, that it makes it that much more delightful to observe him catch the whiff of fresh meat in his rookie rival. He beat him once, he argues, so he’s entirely confident that he can do it again.
Charming Chase has other plans for Charlie
Charming Chase is none too pleased to hear Charlie claiming credit for having beaten him at the end of TTT19. Apparently, Chase’s ego is strong enough to admit to being defeated by the long, handsome hotness of seasoned veteran Christian Taylor serving as Charlie’s tag team partner. But it gets under Chase’s skin to see the ginger flyweight all full of swagger and cockiness as if he gets any credit at all for that debut loss. The table is thus set. Without their tag team partners to rely on (or, in Chase’s case, get pissed off at), which of these ambitious, studious, sincere-as-fuck young studs is the better man, here at the start of their careers?
Charlie gets a taste of power
As an avid fan of both of these hotties, I’m torn. On the one hand, Charlie is too fucking good to believe. Did you read that interview I did with him?! He makes Dudley Do-right look like a homicidal crack whore. By the time I was done with my sit-down with the ginger newbie, I felt like I needed to wrap him up in cellophane and put him upon a shelf so that he wouldn’t melt from an errant splash of water, he was just that fucking sweet. So a doe-eyed, alabaster complexioned, flyweight pretty boy with that little guile and that much sincerity has got just one of two futures in store for him in a world like BG East. He’s either going to be the bug on the windshield, squashed over and over and over again into oblivion, or he’s going to snap and turn into a bubbling cauldron of bitterness and viciousness. He’s either doomed, day in and day out, or he’s going to be ripping balls off and shoving them down some throats before too long. He doesn’t seem to see it, but I can’t help but think that enough time in pro wrestling, exploited and bullied and cheated left and right by the heels circling every rare babyface at BGE, and those high flying, high risk moves of his are going to be accompanied by deeply sadistic, bully-bashing rage once he comes eye to eye with that inevitable reality that cheaters don’t just prosper in this business, they fucking rule.
Chase looks like he loves his work
So, on the one hand, I’m pulling hard for Charlie to break open that full force can of whoop ass with which, I predict, he has a date with destiny. On the other hand, I really, really want to take Charming Chase out for a test drive on and open track and see just how much damage this prodigy of wrestling holds can do. I’m still, to this day, 10 months later, shaking my head and gasping at his Will Breaker that he whipped out of nowhere and tied up Christian Taylor with in TTT19. Where the FUCK does a debuting rookie get a move like that to slap down in the chaos and craziness of a tag team match?! Even in his grudge sequel to the tag team match, in which he settles the score with the shattered remains of his partnership with Ty Alexander, there’s something coldly calculating about Chase. He’s supremely in control of himself. He’s wound up tight as a drum. He likes to put the hurt on, but I don’t know that I’ve seen him love it yet. So, yeah, I’m wanting to see Charming Chase really, really sink his teeth in deep and love the taste of a dominating ring beatdown.
Charlie rains down Ginger Bombs
Charlie and Chase deliver everything that I’m hoping for, even as ambivalent as those hopes are. Unfortunately for Chase, Charlie seems to ride the momentum from their last encounter into the opening minutes of Ring Rookies 5. Chase tries bullying the little guy about a bit, but with decisiveness and pristine, youthful confidence, young Charlie suddenly shocks and awes the shit out of his bigger opponent. There’s a studied patience about Charlie’s offense that I love watching. He knows he isn’t delivering any finishing blows seconds in, with his 128 pounds of whittled bone and muscle. But he isn’t trying to put him away. With wisdom significantly beyond his years, he’s softening the Charming One up. He drives body blocks and splashes bluntly into Chase’s torso, backed into a corner and receiving flyweight blow after blow. When Chase has been bulldogged into the middle of the ring, Charlie repeatedly bounces off the ropes and does mid-air summersaults, allowing gravity and centripetal force to pound his paperweight of a body surgically into Chase’s gut, again, and again. “I call this the Ginger Bomb!” Charlie crows, as excited to name his innovations as his opponent is. There’s nothing devastating like a sledgehammer about them. Charlie’s just too slight of frame. But every shoulder block, every Ginger Bomb, chips away bit by bit at Chase’s reserves. With his opponent thus dazed and sucking on air, Charlie expertly positions Chase for that fucking fabulous Ginger Snap that he debuted in TTT19. Honestly, it’s gorgeous. Handstand. Headscissors. Charlie jackknives violently, yanking Chase by the base of the skull, off his feet, flipping through the air and slamming violently down on his back. Damn. Once Charlie is seduced by the dark side, the rest of you boys at BG East had better watch your backs!
Charlie snaps into position to deliver a devastating Ginger Snap
And then Charlie snaps his skinny legs (his term, not mine) around Chase’s torso and squeezes whimpers out of his completely dazed opponent. Charlie arches high, bearing down like a mother fucker on Chase’s kidneys, and showing of his own gorgeous, smooth form. It’s like poetry, watching him twist violently to the side and roll Chase head over heels all around the ring. It’s gloating and domineering. It’s gratuitous and just a little gleeful. By the time he folds up all 6 feet of Charming Chase up in half and pins his shoulders to the mat, there’s one undeniable fact laid bare in the middle of that ring: Charlie Evans just executed the long game to out-hustle and, yes, out-muscle a significantly bigger opponent and score what can only be described as a shocking first fall pin.
Charlie tilt-a-whirls Chase around in body scissors
I say “shocking,” because just like me, Charming Chase cannot fucking believe what just happened. “No, no, no, no, that did NOT just happen!” Chase roars, face blood red, charging to his feet after Charlie lets him go. “I did NOT just lose to you!” he insists. “Oh,” Charlie downright smirks in his face, “it happened. You were there. I was there. It happened.” Savor that moment of condescension, Charlie. When you’re teetering on the edge of turning full on evil, sometime soon I hope, just remember that taste, my ginger bon bon.
Charming Rage
Rage in the pro wrestling ring is a double edged sword. Many a wrestler has been so blinded by vengeful rage in the ring that a savvy opponent has turned that passion right back onto itself, exploiting the rush to judgment and easy fixes to string the bull up for good in the end. When Chase starts beating the fuck out of little Charlie, I’m withholding judgment as to whether this is the tide turning, or simply the means to the Charming One’s undoing, yet again. In the mean time, Chase scoops, slams, and stomps the living shit out of the ginger flyweight. It makes sense to exploit a height and weight advantage, but there’s something bitterly cruel about the bell ringing he delivers. I honestly think he may snap Charlie’s arm off at the elbow in one of Chase’s infinite armbar variations. It makes Charlie’s tenor scream piercingly in panic. “What’s wrong?” the dastardly rookie heel taunts. “I thought you were the big hero of this story!”
The Will Breaker
I am in awe watching Chase get down to business. No tag team partner to joist egos with. No fresh opponent waiting on the apron. The Charming One just starts carving Charlie up like a super lean Thanksgiving turkey. He twists and ties, wrenches and rips him joint by joint. When he pries a screaming submission out with that Will Breaker again, it is every bit as awesome and mystifying as the first time I saw it. Such total vulnerability. Such complete torture. If you’re like me, your cock will demand that you push rewind and watch the spider spin that web again, but you don’t even have to. About 10 minutes later, Chase ties Charlie up in that Will Breaker all over again.
Chase develops a passion for this
Without having to share the stage, Chase demonstrates he knows a whole lot more tricks than we were treated to in TTT19. But that piece that I’ve been anxiously waiting to see from Chase, just the slightest release of his iron grip control over himself that he has, is the real revelation in this match. If I was left wondering if Chase more than just “likes” to make another man hurt, I’m not wondering any longer. He practically pours a glass of Charlie’s screaming tears and savors them like rare wine. When Charlie is good and tenderized, choking on his own humiliation and impotence, Chase hovers over him, lingering a little. He leans down across his back and looks like he’s nibbling on Charlie’s ear. He palms the ginger’s shoulder. Then his hand slides down Charlie’s brightly bruised back. With his other hand, he strokes the back of Charlie’s calf, sliding his fingers up the smooth inner thigh, before digging the tips of his fingers indulgently into Charlie’s vulnerable, tasty ass cheeks. No doubt, Chase wants the check in the victory column. He wants the win, and I am fully convinced he wants it with a passion. But even more exciting to watch, he wants that feel of an opponent laid bare underneath him. He wants a hot, tight, athletic, aesthetic body like Charlie’s to be at his mercy. He wants Charlie.
The Ginger Snap goes horribly awry (for Charlie)
There are high drama reversals of fortune. There’s a life lesson learned by Charlie about going to the well one too many times for that magnificent Ginger Snap. And without a doubt, there’s exactly one rookie with his score settled, and his opponent out cold and rode hard, when this is all said and done.
Every which way
I know I use the word too often, and I’ve used it way too often in this review already, but I just have to repeat myself: FUCK! Charlie and Chase are so deeply respectful of the genre of professional wrestling. They quite clearly enter their careers with adamant respect for how wrestling works, how it possesses its fans, how it engages us heart, soul, mind, and cock. Honestly, in half of homoerotic wrestling matches these days, you can count the number of unique holds applied on one hand. And then these sensationally tasty young bucks step into the ring and put on a wrestling clinic like this!
Delivering a message
And I’ve restrained myself thus far, but I have to conclude with saying yet again, these guys are sexy as fuck. Chase’s body is meaty and provocative, and those nipples I’ve crushed on before exponentiate the raw eroticism of this highly technical match. And Charlie’s sweet little ass is so sensational. I know there are bigger glutes. There are heftier bubble butts by far. But the gentle curve of Charlie’s alabaster ass is so proportional, so graceful. If the dark side of the Force doesn’t take him soon, that beautiful piece of art has got to get unwrapped and chomped on, because that ass has got to be driving some opponent as crazy as it is me.
Feel the Dark Side of the Force, my son
Outstanding work by two friends of this blog. And yet again, I can’t wait to see more of Charming Chase Addams’ passion. And I’m anticipating with every breath that moment when the dark side seduces Charlie Evans to suckle on the bitter rage that such total humiliation and degradation will inevitably lead him to.
Sidelineland 