Winning the Hard Way

Jake Jenkins is stunning to watch use those muscles to choke out Eli Black

Sometimes I think of myself as a homoerotic wrestling kink therapist.  I often hear from wrestling fans who have questions and problems they want solved with regard to homoerotic wrestling.  “Tell BG East to…” or “Why does Rock Hard Wrestling always…?” And not uncommonly, I get messages from readers who tell me that they “just need to vent.”  For example, a reader and homoerotic wrestling fan recently “vented” to me in an email regarding a recurring frustration.  Like me, he’s a major Jake Jenkins fan. And like me, he enjoys watching Jake kick ass.  So when he sees a lot of JJ’s new releases in which the stud puppy clearly gets squashed, he’s irritated.  This reader knows my recurring answer to these types of questions: tastes vary.  Some of us likely get more kink for the buck to see a hot muscle kid like JJ dominated, while others of us get a harder push over the edge by watching handsome Jake on the conquering in of the equation.  But this reader still questions what makes those on “the other side” tick, and what makes them want to see more and more of JJ getting owned.

Jake goes down in a puddle of sweat beneath a victorious Kid Karisma

This exchange brought to mind a similar brief correspondence I had with a reader several months ago, who asked me to exercise influence over Steel Muscle God to convince him to tape some wrestling action in which the godly one gets dominated.  This is hardly the first time someone has vastly overestimated my influence. And it’s actually not the first time I’ve heard this particular plea.  Personally, I LOVE watching SMG totally use an opponent, particularly one of those hot muscleboys he’s pummeled lately.  There’s an absolutely intoxicating scene in SMG’s recent release of a ring “bout” in which he repeatedly sleepers a hot, hard hunk.  He puts the fiesty stud out flat on this stomach, and I’m 110% on board with the sell that this is an actual choke out.  The hunk goes limp like a noodle.  And when SMG shakes and shoves him and rolls him over, the hottie looks absolutely out cold.  SMG prods and pokes the unresisting hunk, standing over top of him and flexing his guns, leering down into his slack face, until finally after a half a minute or so, the vulnerable hunk of meat comes to.  Fuck me there something so erotic about that little exchange!

Steel Muscle God wreaks divine justice all over another hot muscle buddy

But ripping myself back to my topic for today.  Some readers have repeatedly complained that SMG “always wins.”  Why doesn’t he star in a muscleboy-in-trouble-scenario for those desperately waiting for him to stroke that g-spot where many fans get topped off by the powerful muscle stud shocked, laid out and humiliated?  For the record, SMG has said that he does have a wrestling match in which he “loses,” but I haven’t actually seen it (I think you have to buy it separately from the membership site, and I’m too frugal).  But the issue seems to be repeated from many of my kink therapy clients: “my getting off on a homoerotic wrestling match requires that my primary object of lust win (or lose).”

Brad Rochelle wrote the book in making a muscleboy loser epically homoerotic.

And both of these conversations call to mind still another set of exchanges I’ve had with a long-time commentator and avid student of homoerotic wrestling who more than once has chided me that I’m too focused on who wins and who loses.  What tweaks the subconscious wrestling kink, he argues, is almost entirely unrelated to specifically whose shoulders are pinned to the mat or which hunk sobs, “I give!”  The passion play that homoerotic wrestling presents us is about themes broader than the specific “winner” or “loser,” like broken egos, revenge on bullies, the battle of might versus right, or our personal secret longings to be dominated or to dominate.  And, this commentator has also argued, it’s about much more specific elements than the literal “win” as well, such as the particular sell of suffering, how persuasively we’re sucked into longing to see someone punished, the precise angle at which a wrestler’s lower back is pried backward in a Boston crab that convinces us he’s hurting while simultaneously displaying is gorgeous body and bulging package so tantalizingly.  There’s definitely the school of thought that literal “winning” and “losing” is almost entirely beside the point.

Brad Rochelle also looks GORGEOUS milking victory out of Patrick Donovan’s withering body!

I’ve pushed back against that hard line.  I think the drama of coming out on top is very central to what strokes my homoerotic wrestling kink.  The notion of two powerful men, both fully expecting to be top-stud as they climb into the ring is precisely the tension that thrills me.  One of them will end up defeated, knocked down a peg, put in his place, while the other will stride out of the ring victorious, top dog, in control.  Turn this into a non-competitive, everybody wins, nobody loses, passionless dance of pretty bodies, and I might as well be watching a yoga class, which even when the bodies are smoking hot, it’ll never do for me what a hot wrestling match does.

Pectacular Patrick Donovan also looks dizzyingly hot slapping down a humiliating victory all over Z-Man’s  beautifully vulnerable muscle-bod.

And then there’s one last mental association I’m having with all of this talk of winners and losers. At the BGE Headquarters discussion group, someone who has frequently commented on this blog wrote a seemingly straightforward opinion, suggesting that he’d prefer the initial photo galleries in the membership site of BGE not “give away” which wrestler wins and which one loses.  He suggested that he’d prefer to maintain the suspense, particularly for those matches that he’s planning on purchasing.  Give him enough time to get the new release shipped to him before revealing who ends up top dog.

Z-Man can also delight in victory as he rips apart loser muscle boy Brody Hancock

Personally, I think this sounds entirely reasonable and well-reasoned.  However, another commentator left a bizarrely mismatched diatribe mocking anyone who could “believe these matches aren’t fake.” This commentator prejudices his own oddly aggressive response by tying them to appalling politics, but my point is actually not his apparent political self-hatred.  My point is really that he misses the point entirely.  The point is not how choreographed wrestling-for-pay may be in any given example.  The question of wanting to milk the suspense of not knowing who wins is wholly unrelated to whether the wrestlers or promoters are staging the matches as melodramas rather than as Olympic sport.  It seems to me that the investment many of us have in winners or losers in homoerotic wrestling is entirely about how wrestling speaks directly to our erotic fantasies, not some “objective” evaluation of who, in a fair fight, would kick whose ass.

Babyface Brody Hancock also make victory look so, so sexual when he puts magically nippled muscle hunk Cody Nelson on his back for good.

Suspense, anticipation, the establishment of tension in the plot, the development of compelling characters who establish motivation and commit to their particular roles… these are essential elements of satisfying homoerotic wrestling as far as I’m concerned.  However much a pretense it appears in any given match, the context of combat is a core component of what turns me on and tops me off as a homoerotic wrestling fan.  It isn’t so much who would win in an actual barroom brawl (not at all, really), but who tells a provocative story about passion and heat, power and strength, skill and strategy, muscle and beauty, and, without a doubt, winning and losing.

Sweat soaked and savoring victory, Cody Nelson titillates musclebully fans when he crushes handsome, lanky, lovely Christian Taylor aka Chris Cox.

So why do some JJ fans never seem to get tired of seeing him humiliated and defeated?  Why are others desperate to watch him use those gorgeous muscles of his to pick apart and make another hunk his bitch?  How are some fans filled up on a steady diet of SteelMuscleGod owning one opponent after another, while others are insanely aching to see SMG crushed and dominated?  I think this state of affairs is simply the landscape in which we live as homoerotic wrestling fans.  Our fantasies vary, even as we share a common passion for the eroticism of wrestling drama. It seems clear to me that winning and losing is far from beside the point, and who wins and who loses is directly and intimately tied to what strokes many of us hardest.  It’s not that we’re naively buying into the competitive pretense of wrestling-for-pay. I for one love watching Olympic wrestling, but the hottest amateur match is only a fraction as sexy as even the average homoerotic wrestling product as far as I’m concerned.  Explicitly homoerotic wrestling is much bigger than the raw rules and tests of strength and skill of amateurs, and more importantly, the point is entirely different.  The point of amateur wrestling is entirely winning and losing.  But the point of homoerotic wrestling is to get you and me off, and while it’s not the whole story, the drama of winning and losing is one of the elements that makes wrestling the kink that defines me (and many of you!).

For my tastes, Christian never looked hotter than when he brutalized his lover and rumored-to-be tag team partner Skip Vance, tying together homo, erotic, and wrestling in as beautiful a bow as any victory ever has!

Thunderstruck

Co-Homoerotic Wrestlers of the Month: Cage Thunder & Lightning Rod

Typically, I enjoy writing a retrospective of the wrestling career of my current homoerotic wrestler of the month during his reign.  Despite having, for only the second time, co-owners of the title this month, it’s a little tough saying more about either Cage Thunder or Lightning Rod that hasn’t already been said exceedingly well already. In the case of masked sexy man Lightning Rod, he’s appeared only once, so a career retrospective would be pretty much what I’ve already written about him. I’ve lobbied the boys at BG East to get me in touch with LR to do an interview and explore more behind the mask of the curiously expert sex wrestler, but we’ll have to see what comes of that.

Wrestler, writer, philosopher: Cage Thunder is the total package.

With Cage Thunder, however, the challenge is just the opposite. Choosing a homoerotic wrestler of the month who is also an acclaimed and published author who keeps his own deeply self-reflective homoerotic wrestling blog leaves so many questions long ago answered. If Thunderdome isn’t already on your regular reading list, it should be. You’ll enjoy reading more about what goes on in the ring, on the mat, and inside the mind of Cage Thunder than I could ever manage to catalog here.

Wade Cutler: 5’6″, 165 lbs., a perfect choice to be destroyed by Cage Thunder in the ring!

Case in point, in response to my interview with him earlier this month, Cage Thunder posted a series of blog posts at Thunderdome answering some of my questions in artistic detail and greater depth than we discussed in the moment of the interview. He posted a 3-part series on BG East wrestlers he hasn’t faced yet, who he’d like to put at the front of the line for getting his hands on (and legs around!).  Some of his picks, and his explanations of what he’d do to them, leave nothing left to be said.  Classic, bubble-butted muscleboy Wade Cutler vs. Cage Thunder… there are just no further words necessary or relevant!

Dante Rosetti: 5’11”, 210 lbs., chisel-chinned, muscle beast!

The same goes for another classic muscleboy that Cage Thunder mentioned, Dante Rosetti. Personally, I think Cage Thunder is never sexier than when he’s testing the limits and then ultimately beating into whimpering submission gorgeous, powerful muscleboys like Wade and Dante!

Tony Cosenti: 5’9″, 180 lbs., looks that could kill, but since they can’t, he’d be Cage Thunder’s plaything before long!
He also named “sexy god Tony Consenti” on his list of dream matches.  Holy fuck! Tony vs. Cage Thunder in the Wrestle Shack. Cage Thunder sitting on Tony’s beautiful babyface, stripping him of his trunks, licking Tony’s pits, force-feeding him his cock…. Exquisite!
Beau Nasty & Shane Styles: Come on, Cage! Own both these badboys at once!
He listed a total of 21 fantasy matches with current and former BG East wrestlers he’d enjoy facing.  Each one is a feast for the homoerotic wrestling imagination. Of Cage Thunder’s most authoritative list, in addition to Wade, Dante, and Tony, I’d also pull out my wallet and unzip my pants to see him in the ring against the Nasty One, Beau Nasty. Beau made Cage Thunder’s list for his “nasty attitude, beautifully proportioned lean, muscular body, a smoking hot ass,” and his “evil sneer.” I’d also add that Beau could pack the front of his trunks with the bet of them. However, here’s where I’d expand on the potently hot pick that Cage Thunder made on his blog.  Sure, Beau would exact some sublime suffering, but I it’s inconceivable to me that Cage Thunder would fail to end up with one hand wrapped around the base of Beau’s cock and balls and the other squeezing Beau’s luscious ass. Now, that works for me, don’t get me wrong! But throw in Beau’s frequent tag team partner, Shane Styles, for a 2-on-1 ring romp, doing his best to defend his buddy’s vulnerable junk, and then we’d have likely one of my top 5 favorite matches of all time. I suspect Cage Thunder wouldn’t mind too much the extra effort of taming both boys at the same time!

The Enforcer: 5’11”, 210 lbs., chisel-chinned, muscle beast!

The Thunder in the “Thunder and Lightning” reigning champs asked for comments naming which wrestler fans would put at the very top of the list of fantasy matches for him. You know me. I’ve always got an opinion. It only took me about 30 seconds to decide, but I really can’t imagine who else I’d rather see in an all out brutal battle of masked muscle destruction than a heel vs. heel ring match in the BG East ring room against undefeated god of the underworld, the Enforcer. Just the idea of a battle of brutal muscle bashing between these two makes me weak in the knees.  Either Enforcer would finally crush and tame Cage Thunder, or my co-owner of the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month would tame the silent beast and, if my fantasies were to come true, unmask the granite chinned hunk, rip his trunks off of him, and turn the Enforcer into a quivering mass of sweat and cum trapped in the corner. I’d be pulling for the latter scenario!

Mitch Colby punishing Cage Thunder!? Oh, if only this were more than “just” art!

All this said, of course, skips the obvious. Whatever genius devised a photoshoot of pro wrestling holds between Cage Thunder and Mitch Colby but failed to book an actual match between them produced an epic fail of mind boggling proportions. The heat generated just by my mentioning lovely Mitch to Cage Thunder is enough to prove that this match is absolute gold just waiting to be unearthed!

Year in Review – 3rd Favorite Moment of 2011

Every so often, I take heat for the opinions I express here at neverland. Most of you fine readers, even when you disagree with me, demonstrate class and grace in pointing out where you believe I’ve missed the mark in identifying the hottest trending homoerotic wrestling. Every so often, however, I’ve been accused of a variety of insidious, irrational vendettas against one wrestler or another, or one match or another, because I didn’t show it the proper respect in the pages of this blog. On just a few, rare occasions, the criticisms have veered toward personal attacks, questioning my integrity, sanity, or intelligence. In late spring of this year, I polled a few of my fellow homoerotic wrestling bloggers to discover that I’m not alone in this experience. So in response, I began collecting testimonials from bloggers and regular commenters, exploring what should be the most intriguing and delightful part of wrestling kink sensibilities: our diverse tastes.

JoFX is right up Joe’s alley

Posting the “Diverse Tastes” series this summer was most definitely one of the top highlights of my year. As I suspected would happen, posing the simple, straightforward question “what turns you on?” sparked a beautiful variety of responses from the assembled voices. Joe at Ringside at Skull Island kicked the series off with interests ranging from Mighty Mouse to Stoney Hooker to just about any tall, dark Italian with a pronounced adam’s apple, a slightly convex and strong belly, hairy chest, small ears and big nose.

Randy Orton makes SP feel randy.

Regular commenter and, since then, fellow homoerotic wrestling blogger Stay Puft followed up with an erotic taste range that still makes me gasp. Where Joe drilled right down to the prototypical object of his lusts (acknowledging that he’s fickle and refuses to be pinned down… unless you earn it), SP’s tastes stretch from TNA Wrestling’s Daffney to Jamie Scott of Grafitti6 to Kate Beckinsale to Big Rob Terry. What readers of SP’s blog, Inner Jobber, will quickly point out is that while variety is clearly the spice of SP’s life, he’s got a special place for a certain Randy wrestler fantasy man.

Pablo Martin has a big hunk of wood between his thighs!

Bruno of Beefcakes of Wrestling offered a contribution to the series that introduced me to instant infatuations in the form of Spanish language soap hunks William Levy and Pablo Martin. This is what I love about lots of eyes on the prize in homoerotic wrestling! Without the discussion, the mutual respect and the genuine interest, I might never have “come across” smoldering William and Pablo. On my to-do list for 2012 is to introduce these two hunks to the brutal world of the Producer’s Ring!

Dante Rosetti demonstrates exactly what AH likes to see.

And yet again, regular reader and commenter AH contributed to the series from an entirely different angle. For AH, the question focused him on the particular hold that makes homoerotic wrestling the tastiest for him: the slow, withering sleeper. The drama of the sleeper touches the core of AH, as the crowd watches a muscled warrior get the consciousness squeezed out of him like juicing a lemon… the ref raises a hand that drops limply to the mat… the victim’s eyes flutter as he’s held upright entirely at the mercy of the man with the bicep pressed against his carotid.

Fashion models David Gandy and Noah Mills star
in Metellus’ and my homoerotic wrestling imaginations.

Co-author and commenter Metellus added to the series with some specific recommendations of wrestlers that he likes, with a common theme of nice bodies, nice faces, wearing trunks and jobbing. Metellus also raised the topic of media, noting the particular allure of homoerotic wrestling fiction in his repertoire of wrestling kink delivery for its capacity to incite his imagination to go where live action has yet to take him.

Cage Thunder relishes “the turning point.”

Wrestling stud, Cage Thunder who journals online about homoerotic wrestling, succeeded in yet again stroking my wrestling fantasies with his contribution to the series in which he focuses much less on the body or the hold, but the attitude and the moment in a match that send him over the edge. Cage Thunder keys in on the moment when the tide has once and for all turned, that point in the match when one wrestler has built up just too much momentum to be denied, when there’s more wrestling to happen, but it’s icing on the domination cake from that point forward.

Choices, choices, choices…

The final installment of the Diverse Tastes Guest Series came from the wicked sharp insight and creative mind of blogger Manof1000Holds, the author of Wrestling Arsenal. Having been at this homoerotic wrestling blogging longer than most (all?), Manof1000Holds knew exactly what I was talking about from around 5 seconds into my explanation of the concept of the Diverse Tastes series. And like a cruise missile, he zoomed in on the heart of the matter. Each of us, everyone one of us, has our triggers, our short hairs, the little moments and scenarios that set our hearts pumping the hardest. So he created a Cosmo-style quiz for readers to take to assess their own profile. Now, some could take the idea of the quiz too seriously and get bent out of shape about being pegged as one thing or another. But that’s the piece of this puzzle that I think all of my guest contributors get (and just a couple of readers haven’t quite cottoned onto yet): essential to fully appreciating our wrestling kink diversity is a healthy sense of humor. It’s all fun, or at least it all should be fun, as far as I’m concerned. It’s all about seeing reflected back from the wrestling drama in front of us something about our own fantasies, our own vulnerabilities, our own idiosyncratic longings that we have to hold gently, with some humility and a lot of kindness for our ourselves and others.

Regular star of my favorite wrestling fantasies: Lon Dumont

What all of my guest contributors this summer proved was that the homoerotic wrestling universe is beautifully varied and populated by fans and wrestlers that run the full gamut of bodies, holds, venues, gear, and scenarios that our powerful homoerotic wrestling imaginations can devise. I’m humbled by the wisdom and generosity of my fellow writers, and their contributions as a whole most definitely rank among my most favorite moments of this year!

Coincidences

Have you noticed how in Hollywood movies it’s a moral imperative to believe in the supernatural? I keep hearing the words, “I don’t believe in coincidences” in movies and on television lately. The implication seems to always be that there’s some divine hand moving the universe, lining up otherwise random events into non-coincidental patterns. Well, frankly, I do believe in coincidences. That army of monkeys will, indeed, one day hammer out the complete works of Shakespeare by sheer chance. I’m okay with that.  That’s not to suggest, however, that I don’t like musing on a notable coincidence when it falls in my lap.
Kid Leopard planting a Tree of Woe for Sean Cannon
in BG East’s Superbouts 2
Take, for instance, the third time in as many days that the “tree of woe” has come up in three entirely unrelated conversations I’ve been part of.  Three different homoerotic wrestling fans raised the topic of how hot the tree of woe scenario is. The only reason I really know much about it, as such, is from a series of comments on Rants, Roids & Rasslin’ a while back, in which folks were dissecting a panel from one of RR&R’s wrestling comics. “Tree of woe” is apparently the moniker for that precarious situation when a wrestler discovers himself hanging upside down from the corner turnbuckle, completely vulnerable to a humiliating and devastating attack.
BG East’s Brooklyn Bodywrecker exploiting an opponent’s vulnerability.
It seems to me that there’s more than just a little element of bondage, with the poor catcher’s ankles locked and laced underneath the supports tying the turnbuckle to the ring post. A knee to the gut, a boot to the face… the options appear to be endless. Yes, and hot…
Rock Hard Wrestling’s Lucas Payne lives up to his name in Austin Cooper’s
Tree of Woe

The position also offers an opportunity to see a hot muscle boy stretched out and in jeopardy. Hot strong bodies are the best subjects with which to construct a tree of woe, it seems to me. The mechanics probably work best with a strong, compact, relatively limber body. The aesthetics also work best that way, too, I think.

Cole Cassidy goes to work on Kevin Lee in BG’s Bad Boys

Accomplished master in the fine arts of sadistic ring punishment, Cole Cassidy made the most of bewildered Kevin Lee trapped in his tree of woe.

Cole uses those gorgeous muscles to crush Kevin’s head and midsection.

A bearhug and headscissors combination on Kevin illustrates some of the more creative opportunities that a tree of woe offers to an innovative heel.

Cole leans in real good, adding every ounce of leverage to crush Kevin’s balls.

Of course, any tree of woe that fails to include crotch torture is a waste. Cole is never, ever one to waste anything. A long, slow elbow driven crushing into Kevin’s balls softens him up.

Cole claws Kevin’s crotch and enjoys watching the agony.
Cole latching on a ball claw, with his freakishly fantastic forearms bulging like a cartoon superhero is incredibly erotic.
Cole’s boots and knees tenderize his suspended opponent.

And of course some nasty stomps to Kevin’s… well, to Kevin’s everything, shows why a tree of woe is a blank canvas in the hands of a true artist, at least when Cole is working his magic.

BG East’s Dante Rosetti (I think) uses his head.

I’m on the record many times over as completely partial to ring wrestling, and the tree of woe illustrates just one of the many reasons why ring wrestling cranks my kink harder than just about any other context. The opportunities to use the architecture, to capitalize on the structure, to exploit the parts of the ring that stretch as well as those that don’t, all contribute to making ring wrestling my wrestling kink of choice.

At long, long last, Rio Garza pays it back against Jobe Zander in
Can-Am’s Rio’s Revenge

So I completely believe that three different people raising the topic of the tree of woe in as many days is 100% coincidence. I’m sure it’s randomness, and I don’t feel the need to read into the coincidence some guiding, invisible hand that wants me to appreciate deeper the erotic potential of corner abuse. That doesn’t mean, however, that I don’t enjoy riding the tide and getting a kinked kick out of where it takes me.

Rock Hard Wrestling’s Trent Novak treats Austin Cooper to a Tree of Woe beatdown

Diverse Tastes – Guest Contributor AH

Regular neverland reader AH struck up an email conversation with me a few months ago, asking my opinion about where I’d recommend investing limited resources for maximum wrestling kink enjoyment. In many ways, that was the seed that eventually became my post last month on Kink Costs, which generated quite a bit of debate both on the blog and offline. AH and I had slightly different reactions to one of my favorite homoerotic wrestling matches, the debut match of my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler – non-pornboy division, Lon Dumont taking down muscle stud Eddie Rey. I’m always fascinated when other fans see things differently, or outright see different things than I do. So when I asked AH if he might be interested in contributing to neverland’s summer series on Diverse Tastes, I shouldn’t have been surprised that he took things in a slightly different direction than the other guest contributors who’ve posted so far. Whereas most contributors have gone directly toward examining tastes in wrestlers and wrestler’s bodies, AH zeroed in on what he finds hottest in wrestling: the sleeperhold. Personally, I’m an over-the-knee backbreaker fanatic, but that’s the point! Different and divergent tastes make the world of homoerotic wrestling kink that much more interesting and provocative!
———————-
Witness to the Execution
by AH



My first memories of wrestling was of the WWF (no one watched WCW at all), and of Brutus “The Barber” Beefcake ending matches with his sleeperhold.  I was hooked as quickly as his opponents were lying helpless on the wrestling mat. Because of this, the sleeper has always been my favorite move; and although it has been modified throughout my 20+ years of watching wrestling, I will take the original sleeper hold to most any other variation.


The first thing that really intruiged me about the sleeper was the hand-arm placement of the person applying the sleeper, usually right above the victims’ eyes and as close to around the neck as possible, without truly suffocating/causing permanent damage.  This intrigued because, as I know now, facial expressions play a big role in my wrestling kink.  Seeing the victims’ eyes flutter, and finally succumb to passing out/unconsciousness has and always will turn me on.



However, there is another factor of the sleeper that I love, that does not really involve the person applying the hold nor the person in the hold, and I think that this part of the equation gets lost in the action of BG East, Thunders and other companies (though I am not an expert on the matter as my match viewing from these companies and others pales in comparison to some of the people who are reading this).



That factor is the referee:  his job when a submission was happening was to make sure the wrestler in the submission was OK, and whether or not he was all right to continue or if he wanted to give up.  However, with a bulging bicep around the throat, it is difficult to say anything; so the referee would raise the victims’ arm, and if it fell, would lift it two more times.  After the third time raising the arm, if the arm would not stay upright, the referee called for the bell, and the match was over, the loser down on the mat, more or less unconscious.



For me at least, adding a referee or an “unbiased” third party to a match (does not have to be submission, as this person could make the pin counts as well in matches) would add another dimension to the matches, and it would enhance the kink i get out of matches that either have sleepers in them, or end with sleepers.  Seeing matches that are not fully staged and choreographed on a grand scale, end with eyes fluttering and finally closing, an arm being raised and ultimately dropped three times, and the victor standing or flexing over his unconscious opponent, would bring full circle my love affair with the sleeperhold.

————-
Okay, so AH’s take on a sleeperhold nearly makes me a convert! I still go crazy for an OTK backbreaker, but I appreciate the fluttering eyes and the sinking arm-raise that much more, now. My thanks to AH for taking this conversation in new directions, and my thanks to BG East (as always) and Wrestling Arsenal for the pics.

Desert Island Discs

True story: I just recently had to pack for several weeks away from home. I’m traveling for work, and packing is tight. I’ll have my laptop with me, and therefore access to watching DVDs. Here’s the task I gave myself, though: with limited space, I allotted myself exactly 3 homoerotic wrestling DVDs to bring with me. With that provocative task that I set for myself, the question became, which 3, out of my pretty impressive collection (if I do say so myself), should I bring?
Here’s what I came up with to keep me entertained for the next month or so (in addition to what I can snag online):
My first choice was Wrestlefest 2. It’s classic, old school BG East, with a live audience of fellow wrestlers cheering ringside and a strong smell of sweat, testosterone and camaraderie in the air (I’m on the record aching for more of all of that!). Having a young, stunningly hard, tanned rookie version of Brad Rochelle opening a can of nasty whoop ass on then-jobber Patrick Donovan can put me over the edge over and over, particularly once he’s got Patrick tied in the ropes.

I also love Chip Slater’s wrestling stylings (and that gorgeously handsome jaw!), and his humiliation and demolition of Jeff Jordan and his lucious pecs in Wrestlefest 2, with the hunks ringside cheering and whooping, is smokin’ hot! To be clear, Wrestlefest 2 isn’t precisely my favorite homoerotic wrestling DVD in my collection. But for this trip, with what’s yanking my crank at this moment, it was my top pick to pack.
My 2nd choice took me a little while to settle on. It likely comes as no surprise that I’d be packing a bit of Mitch Colby in my bag, but which Mitch masterpiece? I settled on Mitch-cubed, with Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight DVD. His mat match against Patrick Donovan (yes, with extremely tight space, I’ve managed to squeeze in a double shot of Patrick!) is quite possibly my favorite Mitch-match of all time, but that’s hard to pin down because nothing Mitch does ever disappoints. But I’m absolutely enthralled with the give and take between Mitch and Patrick, the closely contested wrestling and tests of strength and tenacity, the gallons of sweat pouring off their gorgeous bodies, and a bearhug contest that I just about cannot make it all the way through without a very satisfying explosion.
When Mitch brings back amorous admirer Marc Rion (hey, what ever happened to that tasty one-hit-wonder?) for the 3rd match in this collection, it’s admittedly a little light on the wrestling but delightfully heavy on body worship. There are frequently times when some passionate body worship will get my heart pounding nearly as ferociously as an over-the-knee backbreaker. And worshipping Mitch is a very fond fantasy of mine. Definitely, Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight is undoubtedly going to come in very handy over the next several weeks away from home.

When it came time to settle on my 3rd and final choice, I was feeling a lot of pressure. Saying yes to any one thing would mean saying no to everything else in my collection. Will I want old school? New school? Heavy on the erotic? Heavy on the ring wrestling? In the end, I settled on the classic Hunkbash 2 to round out my desert island discs. As with all my choices, the fact that there are many favorite wrestlers and matches on the same disc played heavily into my decision to stow Hunkbash 2 in my carry-on. First and foremost, I don’t believe I’ve ever sat down to watch a Wade Cutler match that didn’t end with me coated in sweat and toweling off. But place muscle hunk Wade into the expert hands of heel extraordinaire and BG East Boss himself, Kid Leopard, and the climactic match of Hunkbash 2 qualifies for one of the hottest, most satisfying homoerotic wrestling matches I’ve ever seen. Wade is in prime physical condition, wearing iconic stars and stripes trunks (for a while, at least), and suffering in complete shock at being manhandled and sexually dominated by a smaller, less muscular opponent. Classic tale. Iconic wrestlers. Never-fail entertainment to satisfy in the coming weeks.

But there really isn’t a match in Hunkbash 2 that fails to offer quality goods to tweak my kink from one angle or another. Blond babyface Barry Longshaw getting stomped into the mat by an incredibly young Kid Vicious with a full head of hair is simply awesome. Psycho Capone opening up his nasty brand of insanity all over big, beautiful muscle boy Terry Reed is over the top hot (something about that match totally sucks me into really pitying Terry… seriously beautiful salesmanship, obviously). But I think my second most favorite match from Hunkbash 2 is pro-heel Bryan unleashing a stunningly hot mauling all over the beeee-autiful and timelessly muscled body of Dante Rosetti. From start to finish, I love every twist and turn in Dante’s bashing, but when Bryan looks like he nearly shoves his boot up Dante’s tasty muscled ass as the tanned Italian is trapped and spread-eagled in the corner ring ropes, I am seriously moved.
Like I said, these don’t necessarily reflect my favorite discs of all time. But I chose them to offer me a smattering of several motifs, tastes, and genres to satisfy me through a variety of potential moods over the coming weeks. I can already guarantee that at some point I’ll kick myself because I’m particularly in the mood for some other gem from my library. Just not having access to the rest of my collection will likely heighten my obsession for something I won’t have in hand. But I feel pretty solid on these three discs to get me through several weeks of what could be astonishingly dry, boring work. And of course, there are online matches that I’ll have at my fingertips as well…
What 3 discs would you have packed?

The Give and Take

At some point I lost track of Wrestling Arsenal’s fine blog, but I just found it again. He has a nice, smart take on wrestling, and he’s got a fun sense of humor. Wrestling Arsenal’s post yesterday, for example, offers an insightful examination of the suffering wrestling hunk.

“The true beauty of pro wrestling,” he writes, “lies not in the strength and stamina of the winner, but in the frailty, vulnerability, and suffering of the loser.” The ironic twist is that so many of us want to see our favorite wrestler suffer. Hell, I’d venture to guess 99.9% of the readers of this blog get wildly aroused to see our favorite wrestler suffer! Wrestling Arsenal argues that the sight of the suffering hero stirs the most profound pathos. Our sympathies and identification with the sufferer are boiled down to the most potent essence of humanity as we watch the vulnerability of one man laid out so completely, without the least pretense of dignity left to him.

I like this deconstruction of the iconic moment of a wrestler’s suffering. It strikes a chord in me. It also makes me think about the additional element that causes a drastic drop in my blood pressure: the victor gazing down upon the suffering loser. I think all the same elements apply that Wrestling Arsenal describes. And I think that there’s also an element of profound intimacy in that exchange between the two battlers that speaks directly to the inherent homoeroticism of wrestling.

When Jack Guerin climbed into the ring with Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!), he had a grin that stretched from ear to ear. He was a young, hard, eager rookie. Seriously sweet pecs and thick shoulders. Ominously, he’d not done his homework, though. He didn’t really know who Mr. Joshua was. He didn’t know what Mr. Joshua was capable of. He didn’t know that 15 minutes later, he’d find himself flat on his stomach in the middle of the ring, completely dazed and nearly delirious. And the key thing that young Jack didn’t know was that Mr. Joshua was standing overtop of him, his feet straddling Jack’s torso, staring down at the young buck’s muscled back. There’s an element of self-congratulations about the victor’s gaze upon his beaten, defenseless opponent. He’s appreciating his handiwork. He’s admiring the effect of his labors played out so explicitly on the suffering body of his once-invincible challenger. Of course, Mr. Joshua is also just waiting for poor Jack to crawl back up to his hands and knees so that he can drop his ass down punishingly into the small of Jack’s back, sending him crashing back to the mat (and then needing to adjust his massive package for his effort). But before that, there’s something almost more intimate about Mr. Joshua’s fixed gaze on upon his outmatched opponent suffering beneath him than any physical contact exchanged between the two.

I haven’t yet seen the classic battle between Dante Rosetti and Davey Dee from Fantasymen 13, but I confess that I’ve been nursing a growing infatuation with Dante lately. The sight of Davey smiling down so malevolently as Dante is flat on his back in the center of the ring is an entire novel of story telling in one photo. Okay, set aside (if you can) the distracting sight of Davey’s cock so clearly outlined beneath the taut, shiny fabric of his white tights. And once you’ve managed to tear your eyes away from both men’s stunning physiques, take another look at Davey’s face. With his head cocked slightly to the side, he’s soaking in Dante’s defenseless. With his hands planted domineeringly on his narrow hips, Davey is simply delighting in the physical vulnerability of his gorgeous opponent. Even though I haven’t seen the match, I can tell with absolute certainty that the the gorgeous dark Italian that climbed into the ring with such a sense of inevitability about his victory couldn’t have imagined he’d be flattened and helpless soon enough. Whatever these two got up to in the ring (or out of the ring, for that matter), this pleased, assessing gaze that Davey gives his beaten hunk just seems astonishingly intimate to me.

My last case in point comes from one of the all time great mat battles in my book. Mitch Colby, the then owner of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy title, faced off against the timeless physique and constantly growing mat savvy of BG East veteran Patrick Donovan. These two stunning hunks compare stats before the match starts. Mitch has an extra inch of height and a couple handfuls of pounds over Patrick, but both coldly calculating studs agree that they’re evenly matched on paper. When the scramble begins, it turns out that they’re evenly matched in practice, as well. The submissions fly fast and furious. Both boys are twisted and crushed to the point that it makes me wince just to watch it. They both fight a little dirty, taking unnecessary advantage, refusing to break on submissions, resorting to crotch claws to steal the wind from each other’s sails. When Patrick suggests a bearhug challenge, both long, tall slabs of beef are soaked in sweat and put on gorgeous display as they take turns willingly suffering in each other’s arms. Back and forth, back and forth, you begin to wonder if either of these boys will manage to build the momentum to finally derail his tenacious opponent.

But in the end, Mitch conquers like the reigning champ he was. Patrick is lying in pools of both boys’ sweat, flat on his back, pretty much oblivious to the world in the exhausted haze Mitch left him in. Mitch flexes and preens. He throws his own little victory party as he celebrates while Patrick slowly writhes on the mat with Mitch’s foot planted alternatingly on his ass and then crushing his crotch. And then Mitch takes up that familiar position, his feet straddling Patrick’s ridiculously narrow waist as he stares down long and hard at the fallen gladiator. Patrick’s instantly inadequate orange thong barely does the job of reigning in the veteran’s swollen moneymaker. True enough, Mitch pretty quickly connects all the dots going through your mind and mine by dropping to his hand and knees, grinding his own pouch into Patrick’s, pinning the loser’s wrists over his head, and tasting the sweet taste of victory. But I swear to you, that moment that Mitch is hovering, gazing down at his beaten man, that’s the most intimate moment of this match in my mind, as Mitch simply witnesses up close what Wrestling Arsenal calls “the vulnerability, frailty, and suffering of the loser.”

Power and vulnerability. Strength and weakness. Dominance and submission. Victory and defeat. It’s the combination of these elements that write the wrestling stories that grab hold of us. I keep watching not for the sight of one man’s hand raised in victory, but for that erotic telling of the story of a relationship, of power against power and the slow turning of power into vulnerability.