My circles are quivering with excitement at the news out this week that Marvel’s Iceman was outed/came out in the newest reboot of X-Men comics. This doesn’t cut me to the core quite as much as it does to many of my friends who are much more fanatical about superhero comics. It does titillate me, though, particularly when I think about the possibilities of Shawn Ashmore exploring this plot twist on the big screen. I won’t hold my breath. But considering Shawn has a perfectly equally beautiful twin brother actor, and the capacity of superhero universes to bend time and space and big screen adaptations to star multiple actors playing the same character opposite one another, let’s just consider a self-actualized Iceman ‘mo helping a still-closeted Iceman to come to terms. And it all devolves into a supersexy Bobby-on-Bobby popsicle sucking contest.
Eye of the Cyclone’s SubZero took some nasty ball bashing before escaping the tortures of his archenemy, XTractor.
Just me? Well, homoerotic superhero and wrestling fans can get a little assistance with their Iceman fantasies by strolling over to Eye of the Cyclone and checking out this week’s release in the “Hard as Ice” serial starring SubZero. I’ve marveled at this particular narrative before. Well, let’s be honest, I’ve marveled at SubZero’s crazy sexy body and, in particular, that phenomenal ass. I popped my cork when SubZero barely escaped his battle with XTactor, returning to his secret Ice Cave lair and quickly stripping naked to shower off the stink of getting seriously dominated by his archenemy.
SubZero just can’t stop flexing and worshipping his own phenomenal physique!
What SubZero failed to notice, however, is that one of XTractor’s devilish little cybermites hitched a ride along with SubZero back to his lair. Even as smoking hot, ice cold SubZero steams up the place entirely naked except for his minuscule mask (sexy, sexy, sexy, sexy shower scene!), that vicious looking little parasite climbs up the shower wall and launches itself precisely where my eyes are fixated: SubZero’s gorgeous bubble butt!
I’m not the only one intent on exploring that bubble butt!
SubZero apparently doesn’t realize what it is tickling his prostate, and he doesn’t seem to need to ask any questions. Anally stimulated to cruel perfection, the master of ice can’t help himself but grab hold of every succulent inch of his fantasy physique. He squeezes his gorgeous glutes (I’m way ahead of him there), and then turns around to reveal a roaring, raging, beautifully aroused cock.
Hello, SubZero!!!
With something unexpected up his ass, SubZero is in ecstasy, dropping to his knees, working his popsicle like a piston, self-stimulating his asshole, enthralled with his own naked perfection reflected up at him in the mirrored ice floor of his shower. This is phenomenal staging! I’m admiring nearly every perfected angle of this hunk’s beauty at the same time. The masked ice cold hottie explodes, losing his load across the mirrored floor. Of course, these are still frames and text, but damn it if this hunk doesn’t sell this lovely, long cum shot to perfection!
Mmmmmmmm!
Spent and satisfied, SubZero is astonished to discover the vile cybermite crawling out of his ass, slurping up some supercum, and transporting back to his evil master with SubZero sperm filed away for some genetically diabolical scheme. Which brings me back to the potential for an icy hot superhero homoerotic self-confrontation, if XTractor does some fancy cloning shenanigans. The possibility of seeing SubZero’s lovely rod up SubZero’s incredible ass seems inevitable…
Look at this,” Mutant flashes his gargantuan biceps. “I’m the best in the ring. Look at these arms!?” he marvels almost disbelievingly at his own magnificence. Mutant is, indeed, a marvel. There’s something almost too big about him, like he’s wearing an inflatable muscle suit. But time and time again, tested and not infrequently bested in the wrestling ring, we’ve seen abundant proof that everything about Mutant is grade A beef, ready to be tenderized and chewed up.
Muscle Master Kevin puts the big man out cold. Repeatedly.
Of course a physique star who presumes to monologue that he’s “the best in the ring” is going to garner the attention of Muscle Domination Wrestling top heels, and there are none topper than Muscle Master Kevin himself. Kevin can be seen sliding into the ring quietly behind Mutant as the beefcake poses for the camera. Suddenly, Kevin slides his gloved hand across the muscle man’s mouth, pinching his nose, completely cutting off all sources of oxygen to feed his hungry mutant muscles. “Look at those arms, indeed,” Kevin smirks, smothering the stunned muscle stud and quickly making Mutant’s knees buckle. “Look at those muscles go nice and limp.” When I say Mutant goes out quickly, I mean really, really, quickly. Kevin says that he has “special gloves” guaranteed to make short order of a massive mountain of muscle like Mutant. Perhaps there’s a little chloroform on them, because Mutant drops like a sack of potatoes with astonishing speed. He’s out. Way out, and flat on his back with Kevin posing over top of him and trash talking like only MMK can.
Kevin impatiently urges Mutant to gather his wits about him as he rouses. “I want to see those cocky muscles deflate time and time again.” And that sentence, my friends, is the cliff notes to this match. If you want to see a mountain of muscle go limp over and over, Zzzz 4 is right up your alley. Kevin enjoys applying a half a dozen or more variations on sleepers and chokes, tipping giant Mutant over the edge of unconsciousness repeatedly. Like a cat playing with an all-but-dead mouse, MMK exercises complete control of his prey for his (and our) sadistic delight.
Brutalizing a helpless muscle phenom.
The payoff for wrestling fans isn’t just the repeated sleepers, though I know plenty of homoerotic wrestling fans with a special kink for watching that money shot of a powerful gladiator going limp and helpless. For my money, I also enjoy the humiliation of watching Kevin exploit his often slowly rousing, sometimes still completely out cold “opponent,” applying vicious holds, dragging the barely clad beauty across the ring, hanging him like drapes from the ropes. It’s not like a full nelson or a kneeling surfboard are technically “offense” in this scenario, because Mutant is toast from start to finish. He’s not being “worn down” by these brutal, joint wrenching, soul crushingly painful manipulations of his magnificent body. It’s just gravy, with MMK milking the muscle exploitation theme for every ounce of homoerotic wrestling nutrition you’re hungering for.
Mutant, literally, sleepwalks through this match almost from start to finish.
I have one buyer beware caution, and one catty bitch complaint to level, because Zzzz 4 does a whole lot for me, but there are a couple of distractions. First my word of caution. If one-sided muscle squashes leave you limp, this, like most of MMK’s matches, are not your cup of tea. There are moments when the extremely up-close camera work here catches Mutant looking a little less like he’s dazed and a little more like he’s a little bored with his sorry lot in this match. Honestly, when was the last time Kevin was on camera in even the slightest jeopardy? I think his parallel industries of muscle domination kink and muscle domination wrestling kink seriously limit what Kevin can offer wrestling fans, because he seems constitutionally self-prohibited from being at risk on camera. I pretty much get it. Before he was wresting, Kevin was seducing hardcore fanatics of being dominated by a blue eyed babyfaced muscle god with (literally) in your face psychological and physical intimidation. His bread and butter has long been stroking the kink of those who want to be dominated by him, who want to be conquered by his bulging muscles and torrent of trash talk, who are slack-jawed betas to his persistent “alpha dog” performance art. I have to imagine it could damage the brand in that arena for fans to see him lose, hell, even suffer a little in the wrestling ring. So yeah, I get it. MMK on offense, in total control, dominating and destroying and taking full possession of a magnificent muscle specimen is part of the entire MMK empire. But you know me, and I know at least some of you, so if you’ve been waiting for MDW and MMK in particular to wade deeper into the drama of wrestling competition storytelling, keep waiting.
Call the homoerotic wrestling fashion police!!!!!!
And I feel like I’m being bitchy when I say for the second time in a handful of weeks that there’s a major gear fail that’s distracting me. It’s not the barely there leopard print jock strap that Mutant is bulging out of, of course. It’s the not-so-tighty off-whities that Kevin has donned for this match. They’re gathered, elasticized, built for sucking tight to a hot bod like designer briefs do. The only problem is that they’re a size too big for Kevin. They sag in all the wrong places. Kevin has undergone some impressive muscle reformation in the past year of so, so perhaps this is symptom of his wardrobe still catching up to his redistribution of muscle and mass. But these briefs give the unfortunate (and false) impression that Kevin has no ass, and the bunching and gathering at the legs cast an illusion that his hunky, hairy thighs are somehow skinny and underdeveloped. Let me reiterate here, before MMK fans grab their pitchforks (too late, I’m sure), that I adore Kevin’s body. I’ve offered to suck Kev’s mouthwatering nipples raw and worship his bulges and peaks for days, and to his credit, Kevin confirmed that if a certain blogger ever found his way into his ring, he might just have to make that happen. So I am not complaining about anything at all about Kevin’s hot, bulging body. It’s just those fucking briefs!
Mutant is ripped and helpless for your pleasure.
Like your cat, Kevin lays his conquered prey out and proudly displays for you, his fanatical audience, the prize. Mutant is, indeed, a sight for sore eyes, all of that superhuman muscle brutalized, owned, and defenseless at Kevin’s feet. And clearly there’s not been nearly enough of a neverland reader campaign to demand that blogger muscle worship session that Kevin teased when I interviewed him a couple of years ago. As is so often the case, this MDW new release doesn’t do everything for me, but it does do some things very well. Now, let’s burn those fucking briefs and get MMK a (blogger) stylist.
Of the many things I’ve learned about sophomore heel rising Kayden Keller, he’s demonstrated repeatedly that he has phenomenal taste in wrestlers. Like me, Kayden was impressed with the blue-eyed, blond powerhouse rookie debut of big Biff Farrell. But in Kayden’s opinion, even gorgeous Biff’s earth shaking entry into homoerotic wrestling takes a back seat to another debut in BG East’s catalog 108.
Chet Chastain – 5’10, 185 lbs
Stunningly handsome, silky smooth Chet Chastain is Kayden’s pick for hottest new hunk mixing it up in the BG East ring. It’s not hard to see why. Damn, this stud is dazzlingly pretty! And making his debut in BG East’s newest genre of heel on heel brutality, clearly tasty Chet arrives on the scene already minted as a fresh, promising heel. Built like that? A face like that? And down and dirty vile disdain for the dignity of his opponents?! Is it hot in here, or is it just Chet Chastain?
It’s Chet Chastain.
If there’s anyone who should be fucking furious right about now, it’s Chet’s Heel Bash 1 opponent, fellow rookie heel Dolph Danner. Dolph is a hot, intimidating, remarkably powerful newbie. He’s instantly one of the fiercest bad asses in contention. He’s lean, long, and illustrated. On another day, I have to imagine I (and perhaps Kayden) would be musing about how decisively dastardly Dolph knocked my socks off. But timing is everything.
“3rd Fucking Place!?”
Rookie on rookie action is a rare treat that I love. As Chet and Dolph smirk and strut, sizing each other up and immediately waging psychological warfare before laying a hand on each other, I’m fully engaged in anticipation of all of this untested promise. They both have ice in their veins. They both promise to fuck the other up, and there’s something about the delivery that convinces me that they’ve fucked up more than their fair share of opponents in the past. These guys clearly have arrived with luggage full of ring experience, and they quickly sell a three dimensional narrative.
Dolph likes something pretty trapped between his thighs. And speaking of between his thighs, Chet spends 1/3 of this match spread eagled in one way or another!
The action is extremely hard hitting and high impact. Early on, I’m expecting that Chet may be about to have the pretty smacked right off that beautiful face. Dolph just has the look of a beast emerging from the shadows of a back alley, and Chet is just so fucking pretty! Have I mentioned that Chet is pretty? Chet is pretty. And Dolph looks like he enjoys making ugly happen.
Rub ever so slightly, and you’ll find a dark, vicious heel under all of that distractingly dazzling pretty on Chet!
But Chet is no babyface jobber, by any stretch of the imagination. He goes toe to toe with his taller opponent, and no shit, Chet is confident, calculating, and laser focused. There’s this intensity that descends like a cloud over his handsome features when you can see a deep down raging sadist shine through all of that dazzling beauty. He likes to hurt people. He fucking loves it. There’s a lustfulness about his brutality, an aching desire in the way he wrenches Dolph’s joints in the wrong direction, that’s entrancing to watch.
Chet’s promise as a heel could be seriously jeopardized by how insanely sexy he looks trapped in the ropes.
If there’s one potentially catastrophic roadblock in the way of Chet’s ascendency in the ranks of homoerotic wrestling heels, it’s that he looks so insanely hot suffering. He looks genuinely shocked when dastardly Dolph starts to manhandle him. Just finding himself overpowered and at his opponent’s mercy appears to be so unfamiliar to this ripped, beautiful athlete that his eyes grow wide as he desperately tamps down moments of panic. That silky smooth, golden hued, classically proportioned body of his rises to the level of high art when he’s trapped in the ropes, hanging helpless, or slowly morphing from flexed muscle god to soft, slack stud on the brink of unconsciousness. This hunk has a phenomenal range, and if anything, I think the homoerotic wrestling world struggles most with recruiting and holding tight to highly skilled wrestlers who can sell suffering and inspire a thousand erotic fantasies while doing it. I’m always partial to a gorgeously muscled babyface heel, mind you. But seeing Chet writhe and wriggle on the line, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a mass uprising of fans pleading to see him get taken down again and again and again.
Look this up in the dictionary under “mouth watering!”
Both Dolph and Chet are fantastic trash talkers. They’re awesomely comfortable in the ring. They know their own bodies. They are aggressive, decisive, and highly skilled professional wrestlers. They tell a captivating story of young, brash, sadistic warriors forced to debut against one another, promising to leave only one of them with an unblemished claim to stand on the heel side of the dance floor. Two phenomenal debuts.
There’s something simultaneously beautiful and vilely ugly about Chet when he tries to rip Dolph’s face off.
So I won’t be surprised a bit if I hear that Dolph Danner is pissed as hell to hear fans like me left absolutely infatuated with the beauty and the potential of ridiculously handsome Chet Chastain. I haven’t heard a word from Kayden Keller about his opinions on Dolph. Which sounds to me like the perfect prelude to Heel Bash 2. And just to stir the pot, I’m going to say here and now that unlike Kayden, I have to give the edge to blond bombshell big Biff Farrell as the most impressive ring debut in catalog 108. His hairy thighs with meat draping luxuriously off the bone left me only marginally more infatuated than with devastatingly handsome Chet. But if Chet and Biff need to fight it out face to face to determine which of them is the hottest new commodity at BG East, I’ll keep an open mind.
I had a birthday a couple of days ago. One more year older, one more year closer to perfection. Someone who knows of my infatuation with BG East classics and glimpses behind the scenes gifted me with a few pics I’ve never seen before featuring homoerotic wrestling hunks who have populated my erotic fantasies for nearly 2 decades. Now that’s a birthday present! Knowing the perfect surprise gift to give is surely the sign of a true friend. So climb into your way-back machine and vicariously enjoy my thrill when I received these hot, mostly candid pics of sizzlingly sexy wrestling titans of yesterday (and a couple, still of today!).
This shot of Ian, Sean, KV and KL sunning in the sand is instantly one of my most treasured possessions. Each of these hunks surely owns his own corner in the homoerotic wrestling hall of fame. I’m still torn as to whether Sean “the Kisser” Patrick or Christian Taylor deserves the lifetime achievement award for sexiest liplock. And gorgeous heel master Kid Vicious can pull my trigger absolutely any time. What’s with the Boss being the only one fully clothed here?
I need help identifying the bright-eyed babyface flexing his bicep under Brian Baxter’s chin. Seeing these classic hunks so obviously having fun together is so awesome. Brian Baxter’s marathon ring match with Kid Leopard, with fellow wrestlers off camera flinging taunts and catcalls, is one of the rawest, sexiest, personality-forward homoerotic wrestling matches ever.
Holy crap look at this reunion of pioneers of homoerotic wrestling hotness! The two silver foxes on the left in the back defy me, though I feel like I ought to be able to identify them. Shane McCall and an unmasked Cage Thunder are both classics and ongoing forces to be wrestled with in BG East new releases. Tommy Lopez! Tommy Lopez!!! Just a few months ago I was waxing nostalgic about this babyface wrestling rock star. And if you want to be brought to your knees hard, check out Tommy and Sailor Rob’s photo collection from their full frontal, pedal to the metal homoerotic wrestling match in BGE’s Arena Vintage section. And it’s great to see KL and Sailor Rob are still close after their cut throat, brutally humiliating title match documented in the Arena’s Vintage Photo Story.
Humungous, hot, hard as granite rookie Biff Farrell.
Imagine my surprise to discover that the magnificent blond muscle boy debuting in Lon Dumont’s new release Wrestler Spotlight compilation is, in fact, named Biff. I thought he looked like a Biff. I even announced here that I’d think of him as “Biff” until I learned otherwise. I also mentioned how I’d enthusiastically nurse a fantasy of seeing him kick sand in some twink’s face.
BG East offers up the stats that Biff is 5’7″ and 190 pounds. Damn, I want more numbers!
Fuck, I like the look of Biff. From every angle. I’m crazy for those baby blue eyes and beautiful boyband face. His shoulders are insanely huge. That ass is a work of art. But fuck it all, those lightly hairy, gargantuan legs simply blow my mind.
Hello, Legs!!!
It should come as no surprise to anyone that I was first in line to get my hands all over Lon Dumont’s first Wrestler Spotlight release. As the president of the Lon Dumont fan club, I officially cannot ever get enough of watching BG East’s resident pro wrestler turned competitive bodybuilder turned pro wrestling bodybuilder. His Wrestler Spotlight 3-some is piled high with everything that makes me so obsessed with Lon. His body. His attitude. His body. His brutality. His body. His humor. His body. But even I have to admit that my blood was rushing even harder to see what Lon would do with a bombshell beefcake newbie like big, beautiful Biff.
Lon mounts the “spine-tingling” rookie from behind. Understandably.
Lon sees it too, mind you. Lon is absolutely taken with the mass of gorgeous muscles flexing back at him when he first arrives ringside. He literally pulls up a stool to just sit and watch this phenomenal specimen pump out some of the most impressive, titillating first look flexing you’ve ever seen on a newbie. Words are exchanged. An arm wrestling challenge does not go Lon’s way. And with his delicate ego bruised, Lon is all over every succulent inch of big Biff. He announces, ominously, thrillingly, that this is going to be a forced-to-flex match. Lon’s debut with BG East just a few years ago demonstrated how devastating he can be when submissions don’t count without being forced to flex. All that muscle on Biff. Lon chomping at the bit to make him flex. Holy shit, this is pure gold!
Holy hell, Biff knows what to do with ring ropes!
Here’s the thing, though. If you’re like me, you expect big, brawny, babyface beefcake Biff to absolutely dominate in pure, stunning, overpowering strength. But if you’re like me, you also expect Lon’s years of indy pro wrestling experience, battle worn into one of the most devastating, vicious wrestling heels currently in the ring, to out hustle and outmaneuver the green rookie. So if you’re like me, you’ll be profoundly delighted to watch this untried, unknown mountain of muscle seriously wrestle! He repeatedly knocks Lon on his rock hard glutes, and then follows up with astonishingly confident and devastating pro wrestling moves. Lon is in serious jeopardy through most of this match, which is a place I never expected to see him in, at least not against a doe-eyed rook.
Flex for me, Biff!
Lon is a tenacious fucker, though, and although it takes him quite a bit more time and effort than he’d planned, eventually he maneuvers bulging Biff nice an snug between a rock and Lon’s hard spot. The muscled rook is no dummy. When he’s stuck but good, he obediently pumps out precisely the poses that his bodybuilder tormentor demands. Lon is a maestro, playing this remarkable rookie for everything he’s worth. The juxtaposition of devastatingly hot, powerful muscles and the humiliation of submissively flexing at his opponent’s command is what makes me such a total sucker for precisely this type of match.
Let’s see that most muscular, rookie!
Lon gives us a guided tour of Biff’s magnificent muscles, dragging him to the edge of unconsciousness over and over, driving him to the brink of panic and relenting only when we get to see another display of Biff’s physique. This is total ownership. The rook is Lon’s plaything. And I am once again in awe of how completely Lon turns me on. That, I knew to expect. What I didn’t expect was how instantly big Biff Farrell has captured my imagination, set up shop in my wrestling fantasies, and left me breathlessly waiting to see what those skills, that physique, and all of that potential will do next!
Luscious, massive, sweat-soaked, muscles look so sexy conquered and defenseless!
Welcome to the family, Biff. Can’t wait to see much, much more of you!
I have no way of predicting when I’m going to receive the proverbial brown paper package, sans return address, with a new batch of smuggled pics of the inner sanctum of BG East from the anonymous benefactor I’ve dubbed, simply, Our Man Inside (OMI). This latest batch was actually signed “OMI,” which makes me chuckle… and worry a bit that the fans’ spy may be getting cocky. Speaking of dangerously cocky, did I mention how fervently Drake Marcos denied being OMI when I visited him at BG East’s South Campus last fall? Regular readers may remember that Drake was one of the first to smuggle pics to me from behind the scenes at a BG East taping. However, he also got caught, and rumor is, got his ass handed to him long and hard for dabbling in corporate espionage. So Drake brought up the topic all on his own last fall, pointedly clarifying that he isn’t the one who has continued to sneak peeks to me from behind the curtain at BG East. There was a slight tone of desperateness about his unsolicited denials that makes me think whoever OMI is (and I’m not saying that it definitely ISN’T the Cheshire Cat), I hope he continues to fly under the radar, because it sure seemed to me like hottie Drake was reliving some personal terror as he adamantly denied continuing his smuggling operation.
Whoever OMI is, I’d make him my honorary favorite homoerotic wrestler insider, if I could post of picture of him and give credit where it’s due. Of course, that would defeat the purpose. And I don’t want that purpose defeated, or OMI found out, because once again he slipped out what appear to be some cutting room floor shots from behind the scenes of BG East homoerotic wrestling tapings. There’s a brand new mountain of blond muscle who looks like he belongs in some Beach Blanket Beefcake flick from the the 60’s. Most of these appear to be from recent releases, so hopefully we’ll see Blond Bombshell Biff in action soon. And thank heavens for more candid, between takes reveals of fantasy studs like Lon Dumont, Jake Jenkins, Kayden Keller, and Jonny Firestorm. Seeing these gorgeous wrestlers without their game faces on makes me that much more infatuated with watching them suit up, slip into the ring, and go to town.
Hello, Rookie! I’m breathless with the anticipation of being formally introduced to this new mountain of beautiful muscle. In the mean time, I’m calling him “Biff” and fantasizing about seeing him kick sand in some lucky twink’s face.This looks like a way back shot of perpetual infatuation of mine, Lon Dumont, and his first BG East tag team partner, Chace LaChance from several years ago. Lon has put on more muscle and grown a lot more hair since then, and Chace has bulked up about twice this size!Speaking of size, incredibly hot beefcake rookie Sam Sellers caught a lot of fans’ attention, including mine, in his recent debut in Mat Scraps 3. Seeing him with specs (and very little else) makes this muscleman about 20 times sexier than he already was, as far as I’m concerned.I love this shot of Sam and Ben Monaco with the video cameras off. Ben looks like it’s just occurred to him that he may have bitten off more than he can chew. Sam’s wide, open smile is so fucking handsome!So perhaps OMI is a little infatuated with rookie beefcake Sam as well. Not hard to miss why!Jake Jenkins peels his hot, athletic body off the floor in what looks like a takeout from his recent Barefoot Babyfaces ring match. I never, ever get tired of seeing this Von Erich-esque stud!By all accounts, Jonny Firestorm is the prankster of the BG East boys. This appears to be the aftermath of a dozing jobber Skip Vance being on the receiving end of Jonny’s humiliating humor.Kayden Kellar has come on like a house on fire in the past 16 months dialing up the dastardly and roaringly erotic dial as a rising heel. All of that squeezed into a windsor knot, and you might never guess what a vicious sexual sadist he is!This appears to be a shot of The Boss himself getting an up close and personal view of Jake Ryder and Z-Man’s sizzling hot bodies working each other over hard in Mat Scraps 3. What a fucking dream job!
Cameron Matthews invites you, the consumer, to explain why incredibly hot pro Maverick and rising rookie Zach Reno are going at it in their new release match, Pro Wrestlers: Up Close. It implies an interesting confessional: this is a match in need of a narrative. The pace and intensity of both bearded beauties is fantastic. Zach is clearly in way, way over his head, but pro Maverick sells a solid plot, letting the hirsute rookie hang with the back and forth battle of punishing holds until Mav snarls, “I’ve had enough of this,” and opens up an industrial size can of whoop ass. He fucks Zach up relentlessly in the corner. He wraps his fingers up viciously in that manic tangle of long locks and drags the slack-jawed rookie all over the mat by his hair. Whatever Maverick’s motivation at the start of this match, he soon demonstrates dastardly delight in driving his drowning opponent to the brink of terror, threatening to break his back, snap him in half, drag out the torture a good 15 minutes past the point that the consummate pro could count the burned rookie out. I’m gasping at Maverick’s bounce off the rope moonsault, after which he crows about how brutal it must be for Zach to feel the pro’s steel clad six pack abs pounding down on him. By far the highlight for me is a flat-footed standing dropkick in which all of those bulging muscles on Maverick leap ridiculously high into the air, coil like a spring, and then explode, driving his boot heels squarely into Zach’s chin. Takes me back to being driven crazy watching Kevin von Erich defy gravity with that sort of grace and power.
It’s the trunks.
So I guess I do have my theory about why it is these two stunning fantasy men are “going at it” from the start. I think impeccably groomed and perfectly appointed Maverick is seriously pissed to share the ring with Zach Reno’s trunks. The rookie’s washed out lavender pro style trunks completely distract me, so I’m going to project (a lot) here and say they drive Maverick past the breaking point.
Maverick hangs Zach, and his trunks, from the turnbuckle like dirty laundry.
Since Zach’s appearance in BG East’s Gazebo Grappler’s 17, we’ve seen him with an increasingly unkempt mass of panhandler rats nest on his head, hairy torso, and a thickening, full beard disguising his handsome face. My reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, Kid Karisma chuckled and called Zach “Cave Man” when he first saw this primal look on the rook. Other than the fact that the beard is covering up way too much handsomeness (Zach, please take a cue from Maverick and clean that shit up!), I’m solidly sold on a feral, primal, diamond in the rough persona, particularly on a dazzling beauty like we know Zach to be. I think it’ll be a crime if he ever cuts his hair short again, because that mass of tangles makes opponents irresistibly drawn to drag his gorgeous ass all over the place by them, which is value added in my book. Hell, I’ll lose it for a smooth chested muscleman like Maverick 4 out of 5 times over a hairy torso, but I’m entirely sold on Zach’s tastefully clippered coat of fur. The ragged and raw edges, the arms length from a comb or scissors, the slightly uncivilized grittiness of Zach is golden as far as I’m concerned. But those trunks…
Those fucking trunks make Zach’s beautiful ass disappear! Fucking crime against humanity!
I’d like to consult with everyone’s favorite wrestling fashionista, Ty Alexander about this, but Ty appears to be giving me the cold shoulder for failing to include a photo of him in my recent post on the asses turning me on in new releases. For the record, I didn’t think there was a promo shot for Ring Release 2 that did Ty’s ass justice. I’d bend him across my knee any day, mind you. But without Ty’s expert eye, I’ll venture to argue that Zach’s trunks in Up Close fail on several points, the most egregious, I think, being that they’re a half size too big.
Maverick’s grooming, skin tone, matching trunks, knee pads and boots framing a perfectly proportioned classic Greek god physiqe.
Take a look at Maverick’s standard black and green pro trunks. They could easily be painted on. They aren’t so tight as to give the zero body fat hunk a Michelin Man look. Just right, suction packed to his gorgeous, muscled ass. Personally, I’d like to see them with about 3 inches lower rise. Ah hell, let’s be honest, I’d give a kidney to see them ripped off his fantastic physique entirely. But to my point, they fit. Perfectly. They accentuate everything right. They are seamlessly part of the wrestler Maverick, framing his gorgeous proportions and complementing every bulge to perfection.
Have I mentioned how much I hate those trunks?
Zach’s trunks, by comparison, bunch up, too much fabric left hanging. We’ve seen how phenomenal his ass looks in the right trunks, so just look how these panties make those gorgeous glutes of his flatten out and disappear. If he squeezed into tights at this point, he’d be a late 80’s commercial for the social faux pas of panty lines. Maverick, on the other hand, could slide his trunked body into tights and be as smooth as… well, a muscleman’s bottom.
Somebody needs to punish Zach until he promises never, ever to wear those trunks again.
The coloring is wrong for Zach as well, I’d say. Washed out, the blotchy lavender makes Zach’s pale skin contrasted with his dark hair all over seem anemic. By comparison, Maverick looks vibrant, 3-dimensional, in full technicolor as the shading and shadows of his mountainous muscles pop. I know for a fact Zach can pop. It’s those fucking trunks.
Pro Wrestlers: Up Close
Maverick delivers three (because he likes doing things in threes) awesomely intimate piledrivers to put the feral rookie down for good at the end of this match. The sight of both of their faces inches away from each other’s crotches, repeated again, and again, is what makes sense of the title of this match for me. What doesn’t make sense to me is those terrible, terrible trunks. Someone, please, rip those travesties off his body… pause…. and then give diamond in the rough Zach Reno a homoerotic wrestling fashion makeover. Please.
I’ve been obsessing lately on magnificently muscled asses. You know the kind I’m talking about. The sort that takes more than two, big, eager hands to grab hold of entirely. That type that contracts into rock hard slabs of squared off granite that could grab hold with a grip like a vice. Of course, the finest specimens belong on the backside of handsome, hunky, athletic wrestlers. Sampling the new homoerotic wrestling releases is feeding my obsession nicely.
BG East Best Butt winner for 2014, Cameron Matthews shows that awesome ass of his as he prepares for Barefoot Babyfaces 1.Kid Karisma shows off why the title of BG East’s Best Butt is always in contention with his ass around. Perfect muscle sculpture as he poses in preparation for Gazebo Grapplers 17.Muscleman Chace LaChance is sculpted beautifully from every angle, particularly from behind, as he prepares for his most explosive match yet, Ring Releases 2.In Fan Fantasy 2, Jonny Firestorm gives this fan exactly what I crave: Chris Bruce’s magnificent, meaty, wedgied ass.Eye of the Cyclone’s serial “Hard as Ice” includes three of my fondest things: a naked, muscle shower scene, beautiful, glistening glutes, and the fantasy man superhero SubZero.Jake Jenkins hot, firm ass is perfectly suited to his acrobatic antics, and that backside may have never looked sweeter than pumped and primed for his Barefoot Babyface battle with Morgan Cruise.And speaking of the Mastodon, his beautiful, beefy butt is a totally different sort, but no less obsession-worthy.Supersized glutes (and bulges) feature prominently in Eye of the Cyclone’s “Who Do You Voodoo?” serial, with superhero partners Flex and HALO forced like puppets on a string to grope and grind one another.Primally hot Zach Reno’s lovely ass is simply stunning as he prepares to get trounced by Kid Karisma in Gazebo Grapplers 17.Hello, Sam Sellers, big, beefy, bulging rookie from BG East’s Mat Scraps 3. Nice ass, rook!In “Idle Hands,” villainous minions of bodiless hands go for the gold in their assault on Eye of the Cyclone’s Archangel. That’s a heavenly, hotly muscled ass!
Stefan Ramos sizzles as he strums his deeply creviced abs, seductively stating the obvious: “They’re so hot!”
I like a hot muscleman who knows exactly what he’s packing. Sizzlingly sexy Stefan Ramos doesn’t just appreciate the accomplishment of having chiseled a crazy fit physique. He doesn’t just congratulate himself on the truly amazing aesthetics of his deeply creviced abs. Strumming his six-pack, unable to tear his eyes away from his own body, the impressive young rookie says what we’re all thinking, though not enough wrestlers quite so explicitly acknowledge. “Great abs,” he mutters, before adding enthusiastically, “They’re so hot!”
Steel Muscle God looks like he’s wondering, momentarily, if he may have bitten off more than he can chew in tall, ripped, dazzlingly beautiful Stefan.
The real reveal in Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Six Pack Bash 7 new release is not the dizzyingly beautiful specimen of Stefan Ramos. It’s his opponent, none other than internet muscle worship phenom Steel Muscle God. I’ve been a fan of SMG for a long time. An occasional subscriber to his personal website (where Stefan makes appearances as “Mike”), I’ve followed the construction of his internet presence since he was just a sexy, snarling, indulgently self-adoring muscle man with a crazy hot accent and an occasional appearance on YouTube in a wrestling singlet (and specs!). I had the distinct pleasure of interviewing SMG for the pages of this blog in 2012. I spilled several quarts of ink musing about the relative merits of SMG and another muscle worship self-promoter, Adam400m, penning a multi-chapter homoerotic wrestling fiction series on the pages of this blog, letting my imagination sort out who would put all of his mouthwatering muscles to work and come out on top and in control. For the record, I always saw SMG putting the competitive English bodybuilder on his knees, banking on SMG’s more passionate enthusiasm for appealing to the wrestling fetish crowd that you an I belong to.
SMG looks like he’s about to cum with the excitement of breaking muscle jobber Stefan in half.
I floated the idea years ago that a homoerotic wrestling producer ought to invest in a plane ticket and get SMG on this side of the Atlantic (that’s the North American side, for those of you reading from elsewhere on the globe) to exploit his wrestling enthusiasm and mouthwatering muscles to their fullest. He’s made some wrestling work trips across the European Union to take big, hot muscle boys of all shapes and sizes, mostly drawn from other YouTube personalities. I personally have a serious hot spot for his most frequent on camera wrestling companion/opponent affectionally known simply as “Wimpy Boy.” But when MDW announced a few weeks back that they were working with SMG directly, I thought my long-time fantasy was about to be realized. Six Pack Bash 7 isn’t quite everything that I’d hoped for SMG’s debut appearance with a fully mobilized homoerotic wrestling company. But it is a distinct pleasure.
SMG grabs hold of the phenomenally sexy muscle glutes of the rookie.
SMG is significantly less impressed with smoking hot Stefan’s abs than Stefan is. It’s long been SMG’s shtick, finding every other man inadequate in comparison to the Steel Muscle God’s physique. Truth be told, entirely objectively speaking (just kidding), Stefan is arguably a more impressive physical specimen than SMG. He’s taller, leaner, more cut. His legs and, in particular, his ass are fucking world class. Did I mention his ass? Holy fuck.
Stefan’s amazingly ripped muscles seem to bring out something new and darker in SMG.
The rookie’s dizzying pretty quotient inspires a furious assault to his gut from SMG. Almost 24 minutes and pretty much a squash from start to finish, this match is a lot like SMG’s self-produced matches over the years. But if you’re familiar with those matches, this is probably good news for you, since you’ve followed his body of work in the past. In many ways, it’s classic SMG, really, with loads of sexy, growling trash talk, self-narrating the action, but even more, narrating his physical superiority. SMG fans dial in to watch him in equal parts for his beauty and his personality, which is a fantastic asset profile for a professional wrestler. In MDW’s Six Pack Bash 7, he delivers what he does best with perhaps a smidge more finesse, seemingly raising his game to live up to high expectations of Muscle Master Kevin back in Boston, or the wider audience of homoerotic wrestling fans this platform will introduce him to. Or, just maybe, sensationally sexy Stefan is genuinely making SMG feel a little… short… on muscle definition, proportion, skin tone. He doesn’t throw down something entirely novel that would really take SMG fans by surprise, but the marginal upping of SMG’s game makes me wonder about halfway through whether beautiful Stefan’s lovely narrow waist, amazingly muscled ass, and razor sharp cuts may be making the Steel Muscle God feel a little insecure by comparison. Did he bite off a little more than he could chew, debuting with a homoerotic wrestling company side by side with a froth-worthy Adonis like Stefan?
Stefan’s physique makes SMG bite his lower lip anxiously.
I must admit to being sorely disappointed that SMG’s MDW debut takes place not in MDW-land. I’m fairly confident that Stefan and the mat room in which they tussle are back in SMG’s backyard in Romania. Rather than integrating SMG into the world of MDW, this appears more of a franchising of MDW, putting Muscle Master Kevin’s imprimatur on a largely pre-existing script and cast from Europe. My fondest fantasy, of course, is seeing SMG climb into a pro wrestling ring and stand face to face with the likes of MMK or Damien Rush, or better yet, give him a week of training with an experienced wrestler like Morgan Cruise or Lon Dumont, or best of all, put him through full-on homoerotic wrestling bootcamp with Kid Leopard, Kid Vicious, and Sailor Rob. Yeah, film that, and I’ll buy two copies. And then line up the likes of Trey Dixon, Kayden Keller, Kid Karisma and Drake Marcos to really enable SMG to live into his fullest potential as a homoerotic wrestling steel muscle god.
Six Pack Bash 7 gets up close and intimate with the muscle destruction!
What MDW does accomplish with their SMG franchise pilot is notable. The camera work and video quality is considerably higher than I ever remember seeing from SMG’s past wrestling exploits. Whoever is operating the camera has a sweet eye for it, zooming in to capture the intimacy of Stefan’s throbbing muscles quivering in SMG’s grasp. I personally find stationary cameras (which is what I’m used to from SMG’s body of work, though I admit it’s been quite a while since I sampled him) lacking, but a handheld can be even more distracting if the action isn’t framed skillfully, if the transitions from one perspective to another are too fast or jerky. The quality of Six Pack Bash 7 is high, though, making this definite value added for SMG fans longing to see his wrestling in a more professional light.
Stefan suffers mightly trapped and impotent, locked between SMG’s amazing thighs.
I’m also delighted to report that gorgeous Stefan sells like motherfucker! As much as I nurse a guilty little infatuation for SMG’s regular punching bag, Wimpy Boy, I fully admit that an SMG squash can feel a little tedious to me. Six Pack Bash 7 does not feel tedious at all, and I give jobber Stefan’s sell at least 75% credit for that. When SMG sucker punches him in the gut, the Adonis doesn’t just double over, he drops to a knee and chokes on the pain, sucking down air, reeling. When various parts of his body are locked up in the vice of SMG’s steel cabled thighs, the rookie jobber’s straining muscles and contorted face, paired perfectly with gasps and grunts and whimpers, are absolutely riveting. He looks truly stunned to be out muscled and so completely humiliated, which makes this genuinely work.
Hot stuff Stefan sells and sells!
Well done to MDW for collaborating with a hard, hot fantasy man with a proven track record and an army of devotees. I have to think this is going to be mutually beneficial to both Muscle Master Kevin and SMG, introducing each other’s fan bases to a new potential outlet. Fans of mat wrestling muscle squashes, saddle up for this ride right away. Those with a little value added kink for hot wrestling hunks with sexy accents, run, do not walk, to download this beauty immediately. But the real winner here, as far as I’m concerned, is a certain breakout star muscleman with the body of a Greek god and the suffering sell of a much, much more experienced muscle jobber. If SMG isn’t ready to sign up for that week of homoerotic wrestling training with the pantheon of kingmakers that I mentioned earlier (and I wonder if he’d be willing to dip his foot into the vulnerability of honest to god give and take of a multidimensional homoerotic wrestling narrative), can I suggest that a certain silky smooth, deeply creviced, bulging, beautiful muscle jobber with a 27″ waist and stunningly shelved muscle ass would make an absolutely sensational addition to any homoerotic wrestling producer’s stable? Perhaps geography is just too big an obstacle to overcome, but I’ll count it a profound disappointment if I never see Stefan Ramos in a pro ring, dripping with sweat, muscled arms trapped in the ropes and shoulder blocked for days (naked) by an accomplished, sadistic hunk with an arsenal of pro wrestling and submission holds and just plain dirty tricks to make him choke on his own humiliation.
I’ve been distracted from blogging for a few weeks, and about the time I get back to it, I find Joe announcing that he’s discontinuing posting regularly on his blog, Ringside at Skull Island. Ringside predates neverland by about half a year, and I’ve often found myself about half a step behind Joe in attending to the hottest and hardest homoerotic wrestling content I can get my hands on. Joe and I have mused about the abundance of overlap between our homoerotic wrestling kinks, and I’ve enjoyed deconstructing the relatively rare points of divergence in what catches our eyes and turns our cranks. I’m unambivalently sorry to see Joe taking a step back. And, truth be told, just a little envious.
For almost 6 years, in addition to curiously exploring my own erotic infatuation with wrestling, I’ve also witnessed a gaggle of aspiring wrestling bloggers start-up their own broadcasts. An elite few fans, and just a couple wrestlers, have kept up the discipline. As I’ve chided the handsome jobber boy Drake Marcos often, sticking to a commitment to blog about wrestling is way harder than it looks. The most consistent voice on the scene for well over 6 years, however, has been Joe. From fresh insights on local indy pro finds to classic and contemporary YouTube wrestling matches to the broadest sampling of full-on homoerotic wrestling companies for gay eyes, Ringside has cut the broadest swath through the the most titillating sources of wrestling kink inspiration. Joe’s interviews with wrestlers and producers have been the best. Following his tastes and eye for hot wrestling has introduced me to new outlets, new genres, and new favorites.
Joe’s biggest get, that I continue to be most jealous of, was his 2011 interview with BG East Boss Kid Leopard.
Based on Joe’s goodbye, I’m holding out hope that we’ll at least occasionally see new contributions to the wrestling blog world at Ringside, when the muse grabs hold of him by the shorthairs. And I know his words and opinions are sincerely valued by many wrestlers and producers, so perhaps the boys on the business end will tempt more of Joe’s genius out of him.
Goldenboy beefcake Austin Cooper is just one of dozens of scorching hot wrestling hunks to sit down with Joe and dish.
Although Ringside at Skull Island may be going dormant, clearly it’s premature to be writing an obituary. As is so often the case, I feel like I know exactly what Joe’s experiencing in saying he’s tuckered out, recognizing himself repeating himself. I’ve often, and recently, wondered if the same is true for me. Do I have anything original to say anymore? My moments of getting distracted from keeping neverland updated, I have to admit, often come with a sense of relief from feeling the pressure of putting word to page, looking for an interesting angle to analyze, keeping you provoked, prodded, entertained, inspired. Google’s nanny-state flirting with turning Blogger into a Disney version of its former frontier days of quirky, kinky self-publishing was exactly what sent me packing up shop and migrating to WordPress over a year ago. If the domestication of homoerotic sensibilities continues to consume us in so many spheres of public and private life, I may also tire out and hang up my commitment to this blog as well someday. For now, I’m sticking it out. And I’m sending my best wishes to Joe and my sincere hope that we’ll continue to hear from him.
Sidelineland 