Demanding a Recount

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Bodybuilder Battle 46
Thunder’s Arena regulars have been burning up the comment pages with regard to anything they can get their hands on with rookie giant, Boxxy. His stats put him at a reported 6’4″ tall and 240 pounds. In his native Transylvania, Romania, that would translate to around 1.93 meters and a bruising 109 kilograms. The pairing of 5’5″, 135 pound Angel against this monstrosity in Bodybuilder Battle 46 is a stark contrast. Boxxy looks like he could snap Angel in half without breaking a sweat.
Foxxy Boxxy
My characterization of Boxxy as a “monstrosity” is admittedly wildly imprecise. He’s clean cut, shaved smooth and remarkably handsome. His handsome must be remarked upon because if you’re like me, it may take you a while to notice his face. His body is hard to tear your eyes away from. He also has a deep, sexy voice and hot, Eastern European accent. So far he seems like an impervious juggernaut at Thunder’s, but I can’t help but think his potential as a babyface is where Boxxy would truly shine. Put him in front of some smaller, sadistic heel and let him learn the hard way that big and beautiful are not all they’re cracked up to be in the land of cut-throat capitalism. Just my 2 cents….
Angel works a little catchweight magic on the Transylvanian Terror.
Angel has been staple fare at Thunder’s for ages, and his mocking impersonation of Boxxy’s thick accent and broken English are sweet drama to start this confrontation. The look in his eyes as he stares way, way up at the Romanian can’t be confused for anything other than fear covered with a thin layer of bravado. The sound in his voice, however, is sneering contempt designed to start the battle in the giant’s psyche before the physical confrontation begins. While Angel was never, ever going to “win” this match, there’s something very hot about seeing the petite, tattooed scrapper manage to schoolboy pin the giant and snarl insults down into his face. I tell you, that babyface-ripe-for-the-plucking angle could be a barnburner for foxy Boxxy.
Boxxy brings much more to the mat than just muscle and hair gel!

That’s not to say that the behemoth doesn’t pull off withering contempt quite well himself, though. He looks into the camera in disbelief when he steps onto the mat with his petite opponent.  “This is the guy you send me to fight?” he asks incredulously, pointing down into Angel’s face. “Come here, BOY!” he suddenly snaps.  “Toys?” Angel intentionally misunderstands the thick Romanian accent. “I don’t have any toys!” he laughs.

Now we’re talkin’…
Opportunities for Angel to laugh are, otherwise, quite rare in this 21 minute mat match. Watching the big, beautiful Boxxy manhandle the lightweight like a sack of laundry is quite a sight. I know that there are fellow wrestling kink fans who find a one-sided catchweight bout yawn-inspiring, but when the big man really punishes the foolhardy little guy, it can stir something in my loins that I so love to be stirred. Boxxy and Angel use all 4 hands to stir that very spot in me in this match. Like the legions of commenters on the Thunder’s boards, I have a tough time not being entranced, hypnotized almost, by the sight of Boxxy’s powerful, massively proportional ass. “Best ass in Thunder’s,” some of the fans are arguing. Until I see him sans trunks side by side with similarly naked Big Sexy, I’ll reserve judgment on that count. Unreservedly, however, I’m fully on board with the assessment that Boxxy’s butt is phenomenal.

Boxxy needs to be cast as Clark Kent
captured, bound, and crushed into muscleman humiliation!

The big man has moves, too! He possess more agility and speed than a body that size has a right to. “Not so tough now, huh, BOY!!!” he screams into Angel’s face as he pins the lightweight to his back under his overwhelming mass of muscles.  “Toys? Toys? Look, I don’t have any toys,” Angel grimaces as he tries to play from his smart ass deck, which is usually his trump suit.  Boxxy shirks off the ridicule and flexes his gargantuan bicep for the camera while he easily pins Angel’s throat to the mat beneath his other arm.

Boxxy has news for neverland readers: he’s got more than his fair share of potential!

Boxxy’s ego, like his ass, is in perfect proportion to the rest of him. He terrorizes Angel into a decisive victory that sends the message loud and clear: in the land of big, big muscle studs, there’s a new giant muscleman who just may be able to give even the biggest bad boys a run for their money. He’s going to snarl and shout derision. He’ll muscle his way around and look gorgeous kicking ass. I won’t be surprised to see him go pec to pec with some other gargantuan bodybuilder bodies, because let’s face it, that’s the way the Thunder rolls. But I’m telling you, this man needs to be suited up in skimpy white trunks and boots, tossed into a wrestling ring, and given the initiation that all devastatingly handsome muscle men with a fierce belief in the righteousness of superior strength and diligent physical training deserve.

Happiness Is…

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Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month –
Lon Dumont
I had an instant crush on homoerotic wrestler of the month, Lon Dumont, when I saw his BG East debut in Fantasymen 32.  Lon’s cocky swagger and clear, strong voice, paired with his beautifully sculpted body and fully formed wrestling persona had me riveted before big Eddy Rey even showed up ringside.
Lon cuts big Eddy Rey down to size
When Eddy finally arrived, Lon continued to captivate me by taking the lead in the dance of establishing the plot. Eddy encouraged Lon to continue with his posing routine, but Lon refused with a snort. “People pay to see me flex,” he explains. Lon wasn’t about to just give it away for free. When Eddy proposes that perhaps he might just make Lon flex for him, Lon put his hands on his hips and tilted his head to side, thinking. When he acknowledges that Eddy is a tall drink of water and calls him, “Sprout,” I both laugh and grow even more aroused at the same time.
Eddy obediently flexes for Lon
In short order, Lon confirmed my fondest hope.  Via a blindside assault on big Eddy, Lon demonstrated with brutal grace that he has not only the body, not only the persona, but also the ring savvy and wrestling skill to deserve my firmly established fanaticism. On message like a bear trap, Lon made sweaty Eddy flex his hot muscles over and over, wringing one submission after another out of the big man. Lon was patient but firm as he physically and psychologically broke down big Eddy, systematically transforming him from an over-confident, hard-bodied hunk into a whimpering, obedient, defenseless plaything.
As documented here at neverland, each and every new release from Lon Dumont makes my heart flutter like a star-struck schoolgirl. I most appreciate his rookie wrecking work, such as beating down to size the likes of big, dumb (and presumably full of cum) Terry O’Daly and, most recently, hairy bruiser Morgan Cruise. Big, strong, barely legal studs like these are genetically predisposed and socially trained to believe that they deserve to come out on top over smaller, more mature opponents. Handsome, letterman jacket-wearing sides of beef grow up unfailingly reinforced in the faith that youth and size merit victory when they stand, flexing, side-by-side with the likes of 5’6 and 15/16″ tall, 150 pound, 30-something opponents. When Lon picks them apart like Thanksgiving turkey leftovers, you can see their rookie worldviews come crashing down around them.  As Lon cuts them down to size and then lifts his right boot, pauses as he takes aim, and then stomps all over them, tenderizing their cornfed muscles from head to toe, the likes of Terry and Morgan learn that the real world will not be handed to them on a platter just because they’re big, fit and young.

Ripped Lon and partner Chace LaChance

Versatility turns me on, as well, and my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month can tell more than one story. Teamed up with too, too tweezed go-go boy rookie Chace LaChance, Lon was also convincingly one half of pretty-in-peach, going down in two out of three to big, nasty Donnie Drake and his sadist apprentice, Doug Rand. Babyface heroes who battle valiantly but are bested by crafty shortcuts and vile double teams are beautiful to behold. When Lon is knocked out cold and laid out defenseless and vulnerable next to his pretty partner in the middle of the ring, all that gorgeous muscle so helpless and humiliated makes me gasp.

Joe’s huge thighs crushing Lon’s armored core
And speaking of gasping… when I interviewed Lon earlier this year, I asked him what it would take to be bested in a singles match. “Perhaps someone with a 100-pound weight advantage might have better luck,” he answered bluntly, “but besides that, I just don’t see it happening.” Perhaps going on the record like that gave the boys at BG East a devilish idea, because the next time we saw Lon climb into the ring, he was face-to-face… or perhaps, face to sternum… with 6’2″, 240 pound Titan, Joe Robbins. Bigger men have gone weak in the knees in the shadow of humungous Joe, but Lon is a study in self-control. Whether Lon’s prediction from my interview was playing through his mind as Joe wrapped his tree trunks around him and crushed him into sobbing agony, I don’t know. But while nearly 100-pounds of weight advantage did, indeed, blemish Lon’s undefeated 1-on-1 record, Lon proved that he’s not just entertaining when he’s large and in charge. He’s a vision, suffering for days, enduring boatloads of pain for a marathon session of gut abuse that incredibly reluctantly wrings a string of submissions out of the bodybuilder. When Lon is gasping, clutching his rips, slumped against the ring apron, his loss to Joe is just one more check in the win column when it comes to confirming my lustful devotion.
Picture perfect Lon rips Terry O’Daly’s knee off

Not everyone is turned on by what I’m turned on by, but one thing that defines this blog and my lust is wrestling. And Lon is first and foremost a sexy-ass wrestler. Just like his stomps, his masterful application of joint wrenching submission holds is brutally graceful.  The rookies that Lon excels in destroying are typically ham-handed, a little awkward as they work themselves into position to snap on a Boston crab or have to use trial-and-error to figure out the most effective angle to work a bearhug. Lon, on the other hand, slides like liquid gold into position. He knows just how far a knee will bend, just how much tension a back can take. He’s such a technician that he can afford to be an artist as well, flexing his body just right, snarling beautifully, displaying his writhing opponent gorgeously for the perfect camera angle.

Like me, Lon can’t help but marvel at the
image of his complete mastery over Morgan Cruise

It was Lon’s deeply satisfying rookie wrecking of hairy chested bruiser Morgan Cruise that earned him, at last, the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month. The vision of Morgan’s Prometheus Bound performance nearly earned the rookie the reader’s choice as the rookie with the most potential. I, for one, am very, very keen to see Morgan and his cleft chin show up again to see if he can start to learn some of those lessons that Lon so patiently offered him. But as beautiful as Morgan’s destruction is, my eyes are stuck like glue on every flex, every vein rising to the surface, every angle of Lon’s body as he demonstrates his mastery of the ring and as he masters Morgan’s powerful body and so vulnerable soul.

Lon’s excellence of execution
There’s something profoundly erotic about a man who is completely self-possessed and in control of his emotions even as he administers debilitating doses of pain and suffering. This probably explains why I continue to enjoy Dexter so much (despite Michael C. Hall’s stubborn refusal to let us see his ass), and it most definitely explains, in part, why Lon captivates me so thoroughly. He’s a rational wrestler. He’s thinking as he’s applying that armbar. He contemplating the moral of the story, even as he’s threatening to rip poor Morgan’s head off of his neck. When Lon is finished with Morgan, he gives the wrecked rookie a thoughtful examination. It’s not personal. Hell, Lon even suggests that he’d be willing to entertain teaming up with beefy Morgan to continue to tutor the heel-hopeful.

Lon’s rippling abs, sculpted quads, bulding shoulders, rock hard pecs,
perfectly employed.

Lon has been working my wrestling kink like a champ from the moment his flexing image appeared on my screen. His charming interview from last February proved that Lon is a quality human being in addition to being a captivating homoerotic wrestler. He’s been at the top of my charts for a long time when it comes to my favorite homoerotic wrestlers (non-pornboys), and his destruction of Morgan Cruise’s body and dreams makes him, at long last and unquestionably, my homoerotic wrestler of the month.

Lon wrestles, flexes, and thinks his way to #1

True Faith

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What brand of genius is it that they’ve found in their casting agents at HBO?! I’ve raved (RAVED, I say!), about the uncanny brilliance of the people who have collected such stunningly inspiring hunks as Ryan Kwanten, Sam Trammel, Alexander Skarsgård, Mehcad Brooks, Joe Manganiello, and Stephen Moyer (to name only a few) into one cruise missile to my crotch that is True Blood. Now, reports are out that True Blood has cast Christopher Meloni for next season.

In my daily life, I’ve heaped sneering contempt by the buckets-full on proponents of “Intelligent Design” who argue that there must be a god because the world is just too perfectly ordered to happen by chance. Now, I have to admit, I’m thinking that this addition of Christopher Meloni to the cast of True Blood may have converted me into a believer. This is making me completely rethink whether there is a god controlling things, because this is just too perfect to be believed. Indeed, I’m suspecting there is a god, and he’s a gay man with impeccable taste working for the casting contractor who supplies the divinely inspired collection of erotic fantasymen that make me lost in flights of ecstasy as I ponder the cast of True Blood.

My homoerotic wrestling fiction is littered with evidence of the spiritual power that the casting of True Blood has had on me.  I’ve written fictional wrestling matches starring Trammel, Moyer, and Kwanten. Skarsgård has shown up twice, and like the two appearances of Manganiello, I’m strongly convicted in my faith that they will show up again. And Christopher Meloni has already been haunting my homoerotic wrestling fantasies hard and loud, inspiring 4 matches in just about any constellation I can throw him into the ring to face (singles, tag-team, gang-bang…).  The last we saw Christopher, he was  left stripped naked in the ring after being mauled by all of Eli Brody’s executive assistants in turn. My idea then was that he was finally, tentatively tamed and would be a fantastically sadistic tool of the powers that be in rookie wrecking more upstart egos, now fully incorporated into the corporate powers of the entertainment-industrial complex.

Hot damn in the morning! If that casting agent who is divine ever opens up a church of homoerotic wrestling devotion, I’m going to be the biggest evangelist the world has seen since Cyrus conquered the known world and incorporated all of the local gods into the pantheon of Persian hegemony. If Christopher Meloni doesn’t appear in a naked wrestling match with Manganiello, Skarsgård and, let’s say Allan Hyde (just to keep things fresh), then my faith in Intelligent Design may waver. Till then, I’m a believer, god damn it!

Reader’s Choice – Nick Collins

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Voting was enthusiastic and the competition was hotly contested, but Rock Hard Wrestling’s Nick Collins managed to hold off a late surge by BG East beefcake, Morgan Cruise, to claim the Reader’s Choice award for the recent rookie with the brightest potential.
Jake Jenkins ties Nicky up like a pretzel

Nicky’s appeal can hardly be a mystery. The lean, ripped body… the shaggy, long, yankable hair… that hefty package and oh-so-sweet round ass vacuum packed inside those skin tight trunks… still frame alone makes eager Nick Collins someone to watch.

Jake has his way with fresh, young Nicky

In both his singles and tag-team debuts at Rock Hard, he also shows clear evidence that he can wrestle. He’s nowhere near the polish and ring savvy of the RHW catalog 6 breakouts like muscle stud (and former homoerotic wrestler of the month) Jake Jenkins and his partner in crime, Austin Cooper (who, let’s face it, have come a long, long way in their short careers). Nicky has some amateur wrestling background, clearly, in the way he leverages is lean, tight body to flip and control his opponents. He’s a fit young stud who can get tossed and slammed and keep coming back.

Jake and Austin cannot get enough of rookie bashing Nicky

But he is a rookie, let’s face it. He sells about 40% of the time. He goes from 0 to 60 (writhing in agony to snarling with contempt and hardly breathing heavy at all) in the blink of an eye. He hasn’t yet really sold me, at least, with a reason that he’s climbed into the ring to face brutal, full contact competition. I can imagine the backstory, but sweet, sweet Nicky hasn’t yet really fleshed out the character and motivation for us.

All that fit muscle and bulging potential!

Which may be why so many of you tapped him for the rookie with the most potential. He’s got such sweet, bulging, squeezable raw materials to work with, and at the same time he’s got a boat load of improvement to make to turn a couple of passenger seat matches into a full on homoerotic wrestling kink persona that draws us in for more than just the beauty of that baby, baby, babyface and lean, hard body.

When he sells it, Nicky’s a gorgeously vulnerable babyface

Check babyboy out getting battered and abused by muscleboys Jake and Austin in his tag team defeat with partner Cliff Johnson, or pounding out two out of three to take a victory from fellow fresh face rookie Gunner Bayani.

Sweet, sweet potential!
Personally, I think my favorite homoerotic wrestler, non-pornboy division (and current homoerotic wrestler of the month) Lon Dumont needs to ring the school bell and open up a clinic for all of these rookies to learn so, so much (with sweet Nicky at the head of the class, of course)! I’ve also got a deep craving to see the top contender chomping at Lon’s ass for the title of favorite homoerotic wrestler, non-pornboy, and former homoerotic wrestler of the month, Kid Karisma, wrap little Nicky’s back around a ring post like a Christmas ribbon. Potential? Hell, yes.

Art Imitating Art

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Vote yet in the current reader’s choice poll in the right margin? You have until Monday morning to register your pick for the rookie with the brightest potential in “the biz.” In the mean time, this shiny bit of hotness just caught my attention and sent my homoerotic wrestling imagination spinning.
My infatuation with dizzyingly handsome Dylan McDermott began the moment I saw him steal every scene in Steel Magnolias. Perhaps, objectively speaking, he didn’t actually steal every scene, but the rest of that chick-flick is a blur between the part where Olympia Dukakis utters the line “All gay men are named Mark, Rick or Steve,” and the final scene of the movie where I’m blubbering like an emotionally labile puddle of goo. I attribute the blur to the fleeting sight of a gorgeous, young, delicious Dylan McDermott holding my gaze anytime he’s on screen.

Home for the Holidays made me fall in lust with him all over again. If that man stalked me across the country, I’d be completely at his mercy, and by mercy I mean mercilessness. I watched The Practice entirely for Dylan-viewing. You’d think American Horror Story would be must-see television for me, as Dylan’s newest vehicle. Hot star, horror theme… but no. Haven’t seen it at all. Perhaps it has potential to be one of those gems I discover on DVD.

On the other hand, I do regularly check in at Superherofan, who does apparently watch it, and the latest posts from the show certainly capture my imagination. Dylan is the star of a shower scene (really, do I need to say more?). As he climbs out, he’s attacked (yes, more! more!) by a masked attacker in a rubber suit (holy hell….). Dylan appears to get thrown around, chloroformed, rear-choked, with his hot, freshly toweled body writhing in his captor’s grasp.

Not knowing the plot, I’m left to my own devices to fill in some context. While the hips on the rubber-clad attacker suggest that this may be a woman, screw that. It’s a guy in a skin tight fetish suit, as far as I’m concerned. And vulnerable, nearly naked Dylan is the perfect target to be claimed, tamed, and trussed up as a hungry hunk’s sex puppet.

The unmasked shot here certainly looks like a dude. ‘Nuff said. Dylan’s gorgeous torso and those big, broad shoulders are going to get dominated, whether in the show or in the drama now playing in my imagination. I can just picture it, the masked, rubbered, fetishist exploring Dylan’s knocked out body, tying him down and tearing away that bastard of a bath towel to exploit his panic upon waking to pump this hottie up hard and completely out of control.

Um…. wait a second. I believe that I may be able to imagine that scene so clearly because I’ve seen it, literally. Yep, wasn’t the concept of the rubber-suited “monster” sneaking into the bathroom to ambush the showering stud, rear-choking him into unconsciousness and tying him up and manipulating every fine, gorgeous muscle (and particularly the real monster of this flick, Jay Jornter’s supernaturally thick cock!), in Can-Am’s Monster Trap, Part Deux?

While I haven’t seen American Horror Story to compare directly, I have watched Monster Trap 2, and the masked rubber attacker sneaking up behind to chloroform an unsuspecting and vulnerable hottie was definitely done before this season of FX.

The rear-choke on the bare-torsoed, lightly hairy, fit sex object in the shower by the oddly frightening and erotically provocative hunk in a skin tight wet suit was done awfully satisfyingly by Can-Am. While the similarities may not be literal plagiarism, my imagination (which is all that really counts around here, in the end, I suppose) is painting in the back story that a homoerotic wrestling fetishist television producer saw Monster Trap 2 and, consciously or not, painted Dylan into the better-quality production for FX. This is all seeming so much like the fictional homoerotic wrestling world in my imagination (wrestling fetish movie producer, mainstream television a mirror image of gay wrestling kink/porn…) that I’m starting to wonder if I need a med-check from a mental health professional. Either way, I’m even more convinced that I’ll be checking out Dylan’s shower scene for myself before too long!

Reader’s Choice

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There was such a big showing in the polls for November’s Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month that I’m suspecting that there are wrestling fans out there who really want to get their voices heard. While this blog is mostly about my own tastes, I’m happy to offer opportunities for readers to influence the buzz on the scene. You can always post comments, of course, but to keep things fresh and competitive, here’s another reader’s choice poll. Since I’m always a big booster of scouting fresh faces, who do you think is the rookie with the most potential in homoerotic wrestling? I’ve narrowed the choices to consider only recent releases and wrestlers with no more than 2 matches already on the market. Vote in the right margin before the polls close on Monday morning. If you pick “other,” nominate your favorite rookie that I failed to mention by commenting to this post.

Thunder’s Arena’s Sirus

I haven’t seen Sirus wrestle yet at Thunder’s Arena, but he’s packing major ballast down below and those pouty lips and punk ass look are extremely intriguing.

BG East’s Gavin Keys

BG East recently released a whole Rookie Wreckers collection, so they’ve got a whole platoon of nominees to consider. Milky smooth babyface Gavin Keys, for example, looks almost too fresh and wreckable to believe!

Can-Am’s Derek Fox

Derek Fox starts his career getting crotch mauled by in-house sadist showman and workhorse, Jobe Zander. This tanned, Jersey Shore looking side of beef can certainly take a punch… and a kick, and a claw, and an elbow, and everything else crushing his crotch!

BG East’s Morgan Cruise

Morgan Cruise certainly captured my imagination in his rookie wrecking at the hands of reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month, Lon Dumont.  Hairy, beefy, and with a dimple-chinned handsomeness, I could imagine that Morgan might have a bright wrestling future ahead.

Thunder’s Arena’s Boxxy
The Thunder’s Arena’s fans have been lighting up the comment pages with abject worship of newcomer Boxxy. He’s about the size of any two of the other rookies under consideration here combined, with an ass and a European accent that will certainly inspire many of us to crave more of this powerful phenom.
BG East’s Dylon Roberts
Any rookie game for debuting in that gear seems to me to be ready to take the homoerotic wrestling world by storm. While the gear and the low hanging fruit are so notable, Dylon Roberts‘ hot as hell handsome face and delightfully sexy, lean body are quite a combination to make him a serious contender, I think.
Rock Hard Wrestling’s Gunner Bayani
Gunner Bayani has been on the scene at RHW for a few months, but he only has 2 releases to his credit thus far, so he just skates in as qualified for this poll. The name alone convinces me that this hot, hard, wicked fast and accomplished wrestler could have a bright, bright future ahead.
BG East’s Rafael Valmor
Sexy, sultry Rafael Valmor has already earned quite a few words of ecstatic praise from me around here, so I almost didn’t include him in this poll. But there’s no denying he qualifies, and on just his first match out of the gate he demonstrates an intuitive understanding and appreciation of homoerotic wrestling like few veterans of the business.
Can-Am’s Jimmy Clay
I haven’t seen Jimmy Clay’s Can-Am debut yet in a Pro Sex Fight with Michael Vineland, but he certainly has the look, and girth, to make me suspect he could have a future in the business… if Michael didn’t crush him so commandingly that he’s too scared to climb into the ring again.
Rock Hard Wrestling’s Nick Collins
Like Gunner, Nick Collins has been on the scene at Rock Hard for a while, but he’s only sporting two releases thus far. I can’t help but think of Nick as the lean, ripped younger brother of muscle stud and personal fantasyman of mine, Jake Jenkins. Nicky has a doe-in-the-headlights look about him that could make him a seriously hot commodity as a rookie jobber, possibly evolving into a legitimately competitive babyface, and give him another 5 years and 20 pounds of muscle, and let’s see him curl that upper lip and do a crazy hot heel turn.
BG East’s Timmy Cox
As for me, I can’t help but want to see Timmy Cox’s proof-of-age before I settle in to watch this curly-haired rookie get rude and raunchy with BG East “veteran” Jonah Richards. For many a fan, I know, that will make him particularly enticing and someone to see more of. What about you?
Did I miss someone (who meets eligibility, mind you!)? If there’s another rookie you’d like to vote for, check “other” to the right and name him in the comments below. Otherwise, register your vote for one of the above rookie sensations. Perhaps a groundswell of popular support will help one or more of these fine boys secure another contract to climb into the ring, onto the mats, and/or into our wrestling fantasies.

Ken-dred Spirits, Continued

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Chatting with Ken Canada, one of BG East’s classic, handsome jobbers, was truly a delight! I hope that Ken’s enthusiasm and damn sweet earnestness come through, because they’re awfully charming. My conversation with Ken continued from where I left off in yesterday’s post, with me asking about Ken’s other BG East matches after he wrestled Sal Bruno and in Wrestlefest 1’s Battle R’Oil.


—————

BG East’s Ken Canada and his strategically placed Maple Leaf
[…interview continued from yesterday...]



Bard: And, needless to say, the image of you sliding around in the middle of the Battle R’Oil is warming a different part of my body. Any other BG East wrestling memories that stick out for you?

Ken: On that first visit in the summer of 1996, on the same weekend as I’d wrestled in the Battle R’Oil, I’d also wrestled Jett Larson and Ian Nesbitt in two separate matches. Jett is a handsome, nicely put together lad and one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. Ian is a real sweetheart too; witty, clever, and…while wrestling in a skimpy speedo…he’s raunchy as hell!

Ian Nesbitt sets the pace in his match with Ken from Wrestlefest 1

Bard: Ian is another classic favorite of mine, and in no small part due to his being “raunchy as hell!” The Scottish accent also makes me weak in the knees. If I’m not mistaken, you wrestled a couple of the other early BG East icons as well, right?

Ken: On my second visit to the BG East estate, around 1997, it was while the comet, Hale-bop was slicing its way through the heavens above, a welcomed harbinger of victory in the ring or an ominous omen of disaster for me? Hmmmm. Time would tell. That weekend, I tangled with Kid Vicious in a hot ring match, and then, the next afternoon, with TNT Horrigan down in the BG East basement on the cool, black mats in the Mat Room. Kid Vicious is a veteran wrestler who knows all the right moves, and all the dirty illegal ones, too. TNT Horrigan is another veteran BG East rassler who knows how to get his opponent into a hold which soon has him screaming like a little girl. I’m not saying that that was the case in our mat match, but I can’t deny that he had me in agony with a couple of his expertly applied submission holds.

KV makes Ken hurt so good in Ringwars 4

Bard: You’ve simply got an incredible wrestling pedigree! I haven’t seen a few of your matches, but that will soon be rectified. I imagine that, years later, some people might second-guess being immortalized as a homoerotic wrestling gladiator. As you look back, do you have any regrets?

Ken: Both times I went to Pembroke to wrestle, I boldly went where few men have gone before: into the BG East ring or onto the BG East mats up against bigger, stronger, more skilled wrestlers. But I can honestly say that I’ve absolutely no regrets for having done so. I’ve always held onto the belief that you just gotta’ grab life by the balls and yank life around until it gives! I apply this same philosophy to wrestling. Whenever I’d find myself trapped in a hold of which I could see no immediate escape, I’d always go for the ever-vulnerable bulge. Hell! If it didn’t do the trick, at least I’d have had the pleasure of having squeezed the other guy’s man-jewels in my horny hand and of seeing that hot, sudden look of utter agony splash over his cocky face. YEAHHHH! Now that’s what does it for me! Dirty moves or not, whatever it takes to get the other guy to say, “I give! I give!”… I’m right there!

Bard: You are an inspiration to me, Ken. I hope to embrace life, wrestle it to the mat, and crank on it by the short hairs with as much abandon as you have! Do you stay in touch with any of your brothers-in-wrestling?

“Raunchy as hell” Scottish grappler,
Ian Nesbitt

Ken: I do still stay in touch with Kid Leopard and Ian Nesbitt. Even before our Wrestlefest 1 wrestling match on that 1996, July fourth weekend, Ian and I had established an instant connection, as soon as we’d met each other on that Friday afternoon. Behind his rough ‘n tough, alter ego of Ian Nesbitt – Glasgow’s infamous street gang leader – Ian’s a very funny, intelligent, articulate man who also happens to be a great writer too! Kid Leopard and I have a different sort of connection; spiritual, yet still centered upon man-to-man, erotic wrestling. We’d come to terms with our own individual wrestling obsessions via very similar routes. I look upon wrestling as being a key part of the very core of who I am. When puberty decided to kick in, I’d imprinted wrestling upon it to such a degree that for me, sex and wrestling had become synonymous… an inexplicable and inextricable morphing of the two dissimilar entities. Kid Leopard and I are also connected by birthdays too; his falls exactly one week after mine. I write him every March 15th just to make him smile or (hopefully) laugh. He’s invited me down to his place in Florida several times, and with the colder weather now starting to creep in, I may soon take him up on his kind offer.

Bard: Did you keep wrestling after your stint on camera with BG East?

TNT demonstrates his expertise in his match
with Ken in Submission 6

Ken: Oh yeah! I’d joined a gay wrestling group in Toronto who met up weekly for arranged matches in a free space replete with wrestling mats and even showers! There was no sexual activity allowed in these matches (damn it!) , but it was a fantastic opportunity to meet other guys of like mind and body, with whom any manner of relationship would be totally free to blossom later on. My friend -“Mike” – who’d introduced me to BG East by way of his videos, had invited me over to his apartment one summer evening to be tossed around by a big, lean, handsome, closeted, wannabe heel wrestler named “Paul.” Paul had been looking to wrestle against a local smaller jobber who’d be up to being lifted, carried, tossed, pinned, stretched, groin-grabbed…well…you know…all the really good stuff! Was I up for his exquisite abuse? Hell ya!!! I’d nicknamed him, “Paul Bun-yon.” And although he was indeed a very ruggedly handsome, broad-shouldered, towering giant of a man, it was his squeezable, bitable, tight, rock hard buns which really did it for me! I wanted to get totally lost in between those magnificent glutes of his, but had to settle for being trapped in endless body and head scissors holds between those massive, muscular gams of his! I’d ended up wrestling Paul only twice more after that first wonderful night. He had a partner who didn’t care much for wrestling. A couple weeks later, Paul had actually said to me that were it to happen that I should run into the two of them walking the streets of Toronto, to walk right past he and his partner and to not acknowledge him!

Bard: Damn. That’s cold.

Ken: Painful though it was to do, after he’d said this to me, I declined his request to meet up and wrestle with him again. I’ll always have those great memories of being scooped up by this 6’3″ giant, being body slammed to the mat and then slowly climbing up his gym-sculpted body, and lingering at his invitingly growing basket. Yeah…being a big heel wrestler and male nurse’s secret jobber call boy was a wonderful, though short-lived experience…and one which I’ll never forget.

Bard: Has being a BG East wrestler affected your personal relationships?

Inside and outside the ring, sometimes
we all need to take a good beating.

Ken: My partner has known all about my ties with BG East since the beginning of our relationship. He’s watched all five of my matches and is totally great with the fact that wrestling turns me on. He’s not into erotic wrestling himself, and I fully respect that; just as he respects my interest in it. We’re not together solely based upon our similarities. Our interesting differences help to bind us as well. Nobody wants to partner off with an ass-kissing, yes-man. I really believe that deep down, we all want and need an honest counterpart, someone who’ll awaken our conscience and bring us to our senses by figuratively slapping the stupidity out of us whenever we’ve stubbornly dug our heels into the ground, just to avoid bruising our ego! I’ve been “slapped” many times…and I’m a better man for it!

Bard: Sounds like you’ve found a real keeper there! Congratulations! Even though your partner isn’t into erotic wrestling, there’s something awfully hot about him sitting down and watching Ken Canada’s greatest hits. And it sounds like you’ve definitely remained immersed in wrestling.

Ken: I’d also wrestled at Hillside Campground in The Endless Mountains, Pennsylvania. I’d only gone there one time, and I believe that it was only the third anniversary of the gay wrestlers’ campground having been established. Since then, Hillside has grown incredibly larger, welcoming many more wrestlers than in the year when I had gone. It was amazing! I highly recommend camping there. I guarantee that you’ll be “pitching a tent” – if not overhead, well then most certainly in your wrestling trunks/speedo. The campground also offers all campers access to their great in-ground swimming pool. The guys are really, really friendly…and really, really hot, too! Go! Enjoy yourself! While there, I’d met a wonderful bearded lawyer/wrestler named “John” from Washington D.C.. I regret having lost touch with him over these past years.
Bard: You’ve really lived it, Ken! Again, I say, you are truly an inspiration. What are you up to these days?

Ken: As I mentioned, I’m very happily partnered off now and living in Ontario, Canada. I still maintain regular contact with Kid Leopard, and Scottish bad boy – Ian Nesbitt. I love visiting the BG East website to keep up with the latest news, faces, and tanned, muscular bodies of the wrestlers. I wonder if they know how truly lucky they are to be welcomed through the gates of the BG East wrestling home.

Bard: Any of the BG East boys that have come along after you that you’d like to get your hands on?

Ken and I have some plans to pick up where
Blaze left off, with Mr. Joshua captured
in the corner

Ken: Hmmm. That’s a tough one! Well, I sure wouldn’t mind goin’ one-on-one with Mr. Joshua Goodman, Jobe Zander, or Brook Stetson… or, better yet, having all three of them take turns ripping me apart piece by piece! That’d be fun! Hey! What if, by some miracle, (and it’d have to be some kind of miracle), Ken Canada were to take ’em all by surprise and manage to bind all three wrestlers in the ring corners, with their legs spread wide apart, their trunks pulled down, and their bountiful junk hanging free? I’d float from big guy to big guy, squeezing, fondling, groping, licking these giants’ tantalizing packages! Now that’d be a blockbuster DVD, for sure! Then again, that’d be a lot of balls for just one guy to juggle!

Bard: I’m pulling out my wallet as we speak! And if you need a hand with all those balls, you have to call me up. I’ll take personal responsibility for working on Mr. Joshua. Any other BG East hunks that you’d like to face off against?

Ken: Come to think of it, it’d also be loads of fun playing, “What’s inside your trunks?” with The Enforcer, Magnus, Surge, Cage Thunder, and Muscle Mask. Do you see any kind of theme going on here? Masks sorta’ turn me on… big time!
Bard: You and me both, brother! Any other Ken Canada updates for your fans?

Ken: Just like the eager, underdog jobber in the BG East ring, I’m a man with great ambition! For the past year or so, I’ve been working on a novel – an exciting, suspenseful thriller about the discovery of a cancer cure. I’m also trying to finish up my first feature film script – a romantic dramedy about two brothers. I guess you can call it a “bro-mantic” dramedy”. There aren’t enough brother-bonding films out there. If I were to ask you for one right now, could you name one?

Bard: One that isn’t a homophobic mess? Hmmm… nope!

Ken: I can think of “Fred Claus”, starring Vince Vaughn and Paul Giamatti. I’m stuck for another, though. Whether by blood or by choice, brother-bonds are important. I have one brother by blood already, but I’ve come to realize that life has come to bless me with a small handful of other brothers, with whom I share a deep-set passion for man-to-man wrestling and more!

Bard: Well this conversation certainly gives me a feeling of strong “Ken-ship” with you! I’ve said it at least twice already, but I have to say it again before we’re done here: you are an inspiration! You’ve been incredibly generous to share your time with me and agree to let me post our interview. I can guarantee that I won’t be alone in being both entertained and inspired by your fantastic journeys in homoerotic wrestling!

Ken: Thanks again, Bard. You’re a proficient, prolific, and talented writer. I’m honored to have been asked for this interview. BG East has been an important part of my adult life. You can’t spell BG East without an “A”…or as I like to say, “an eh!” I love your blog, and I’ll remain a loyal reader/follower for as long as you write it.

Ken Canada – A Classic

Ken-dred Spirits

wrestlebard4 Comments

I’ve hardly been subtle when it comes to my keen interest in interviewing homoerotic wrestlers. Reading Joe’s awesome interviews has given me a powerful craving to sit down with the athletes that have inspired so many of my fondest erotic fantasies and find out what it’s like being on their side of the camera. My interview with reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month and favorite homoerotic wrestler (non-pornboy division), Lon Dumont, pretty much gave me a natural high for about three months earlier this year. So it’s no wonder that I was ecstatic to receive an email from classic BG East jobber and hot, hairy, über-proudly Canadian, Ken Canada.

Turns out, Ken reads neverland! He had some interesting insights to share about some of our favorite current BG East wrestlers that we might like to double-team together (watch your back, Mr. Joshua!). Ever the intrepid pseudo-journalist and homoerotic wrestling fanatic, I followed up by asking Ken if he’d be willing to give me an interview. I tried to be all cool and non-chalant about it (while silently pleading to Gaelic gods of my ancestors, who I don’t actually believe in, for him to say yes). His enthusiastic agreement gave me a shot of adrenaline that’s still pumping through my veins.

Here’s the first half of our extensive conversation about Ken Canada’s journey of self-discovery through the world of homoerotic wrestling. I’m including links to the wrestling videos that he mentions (you’re going to want to re-discover these gems!), and I’ll post the second half of the interview tomorrow. So sit back, enjoy, and if you’re at all like me, you’ll be delighted to find that Ken Canada will charm the pants off you!


——–

BG East’s Ken Canada

Bard: Let me just say again, for the record, how thrilled and humbled I am to get to interview The Ken Canada! How did you first get involved in wrestling?

Ken: Well… I clearly recall being “turned on” to pro wrestling since the age of about twelve or thirteen. Once the matches had begun, I was mesmerized by them! Back then, the different wrestling programs had new faces (and bodies) almost every week. Mostly, the “fresh meat” came in the form of jobbers. Each week I’d be frozen in front of the tube absorbing all the images of hunky guys being tossed around, spladled, Boston Crabbed, sleepered, etc. into screaming submission. I’d loved it then…and I still love it now…even more!

Bard: Sounds like the jobbers really grabbed your attention early on.

Ken: Actually, the big, bad, muscular heels, who were occasionally “masked” (bonus!) were always my secretly erotic favorites. I loved when they’d throw handsome, muscular jobbers around the ring, suspend them over their knees and then sadistically smile, as they’d hold the poor muscle boys in sadistically agonizing “back breakers”; a hold which best displayed the jobbers’ invitingly bulging packages to the ever-voyeuristic camera and, vicariously, to the overly-horny young guys (just like me) watching from their homes.
Bard: I’m with you 100% on the perfection of a backbreaker for showing off a suffering hunk! Who were your favorites?

Ken: Among the hunk jobbers – and there’ve been so many over the years to “ogle” – Tom Zenk has always been closest to my heart…and to my more “southerly” body parts as well! Tommy Zenk’s still my all time favorite jobber. Aside from being drop dead gorgeous and having formerly held the very prestigious bodybuilding title of Mr. Minnesota, Tommy has always maintained his extraordinary body, keeping it in prime condition. Ever the consummate jobber, he also knew well which body positions he should adopt when being beaten down within the ring. While he’d be sprawled out upon on the ring floor, Z-Man excelled at “selling” feigned jobber agony by writhing about in a myriad of delightfully arousing contorted body positions – offering his audience a wide variety of sexually stimulating images, which (and thank God for VCR’s…and for the even more recent, and much better, PVR’s) they’d often tirelessly “scrotum-ize” over in private later. And so, it was via the pausing and then slow-mo forwarding of sexually arousing images of such wrestlers as Z-Man, Brad Armstrong, Steve Strong, Alex Wright, Rene Dupree, Romeo Roselli, etc. that I’d mitigated what would have otherwise been a somewhat traumatic, kicking-and-screaming eventual acceptance of my own homosexuality. These televised wrestlers became my brothers…my “Ken-dred” spirits!

Bard: I can totally identify. There’s a reason Tom Zenk in mid-dropkick is the banner image for my blog. What a fantasy man! So when did you get tuned into explicitly homoerotic wrestling?

BG East Classic: Brian Baxter

Ken: When I was about twenty-eight, I was living in downtown Toronto, Ontario. I’d become friends with a couple of gay guys who shared my obsessive passion for pro-wrestling and for how I’d naturally eroticize the family-friendly ring choreography in the televised matches. One afternoon, one of my buddies had invited me over to his place to watch a new video that he’d recently received in the mail from an erotic wrestling company out of Pembroke, Massachusetts, called, BG East Wrestling. I sat next to him transfixed upon the screen. I couldn’t believe that what had been going on inside my mind over the past twelve or more years, had actually been captured on film! It seemed surreal! This life altering match, which had effectively served to throw open my morally locked flood gates and to subsequently release the long, backed-up flood waters within me, featured Brian Baxter and the head of the BG East empire himself…Mr. Kid Leopard. It was, and still is, a wildly hot, sexually explosive match.

Bard: Superbouts 1! I’ve got that on DVD, and it’s fantastic! Baxter drips cocky, smart-ass sexuality and KL pushes every single button I’ve got. I can completely understand how that match could catalyze a burgeoning wrestling kink!

Ken: It’s awesome!!! I ‘d bought one on video years ago, but I think it’s time that I order the upgraded, DVD version myself! Before leaving my friend’s apartment, I’d written down the BG East mailing address, which appeared at the end of the video. The next evening, I wrote a short note to Kid Leopard, in which I’d asked him if he ever welcomed Canadian guys to have a shot at becoming a BG East wrestler, and I’d mailed it off to him that next morning. I guess it was about maybe ten days or two weeks later; I was home making dinner and the phone rang. It was Kid Leopard himself! I couldn’t believe it! I felt just like a “gob-smacked”, word-challenged groupie!

Bard: Holy crap! Just like that? You see your first homoerotic wrestling match and two weeks later you’re talking to The Boss of BG East?! That’s incredible! When was this?

Ken hanging out in Pembroke

Ken: I think the call came sometime in the spring of 1996. I’m pretty sure it was then, because, by the end of our conversation – which lasted over half an hour – Kid Leopard had invited me down to Pembroke, Massachusetts for the coming July Fourth weekend. He’d also invited maybe twelve or fifteen veteran BG East wrestlers from his wrestlers’ stable in order to film some hot wrestling matches in between the partying times. I’d arrived late on the Friday afternoon. I remember that my heart was racing wildly as I walked up to the front door. Now, here I was, on the doorstep of Kid Leopard’s lair and of the home of BG East. As the door opened, Kid Leopard greeted me with a big, grinning smile and a strong, wrestler’s handshake.

Bard: I know what you mean! I was there this summer, and my heart was racing when I stood there on the doorstep and KL opened the door. The BG East compound is amazing, isn’t it?

Ken: The house was magnificent. Everywhere I looked, the place dripped with tasteful elegance tempered by touches of cozy comfort. It felt like how home should feel. Within moments, I was downstairs in the Mat Room. There I was…actually standing on the BG East, black wrestling mats with their signature logo, where many young, muscular wrestling studs had lost their match, their dignity and puddles of hard- earned sweat, among other precious bodily fluids. Oh! If only those mats could talk! And then we headed back upstairs..all the way up to the uppermost floor to the BG East Ring Room! As the door to the room swung open and the ring became visible, I suddenly felt a small lump form in my throat. Wow! This is it! The mother lode! I felt just like Richard Dreyfus’ character must’ve felt in Speilberg’s, “Close Encounters Of The Third Kind”…awestruck, mesmerized, and not wanting to be anywhere else! This was it; my raison d’être. I wanted to climb up and enter that mothership of spaces and to be instantly transported up, up and away from this humdrum world. I just needed someone to pinch me in order to truly know that it was really real, and that I wasn’t just in the middle of some wonderful, but short-lived dream!

Bard: You were living a fantasy thousands of us have dreamed of!

BG East’s Sal Bruno

Ken: That next day, Saturday, I received more than a mere pinch. I was punched, slapped, stretched, spread-eagled, and had my eagerly churning baby-makers punched and squeezed repeatedly by none other than big, bulging, sexy, sadistic heel, Sal Bruno. My inaugural BG East match was up against this hunky, muscular, goatee-sporting, monster heel of a man.

Bard: Looks like that was the only BG East match Sal Bruno wrestled. He looks like he was quite a hunk! What was it like to stand there in the ring with him?

Ken: He’d just keep coming at me in the ring relentlessly! Sure. I’d asked…O.K., begged for everything that was about to be handed me. And, as the old adage goes and as I would all too soon come to learn (…and painfully so): “Be careful what you ask for!” Sal Bruno pulled no punches. He did pull my hair, though. Reciprocating proved pretty challenging though. He was/is still pretty much bald, but I have to say that bald was, and shall always most definitely be, a very sexy look on Sal!

Ken Canada’s introduction to BG East wrestling 

Bard: Some of my favorite wrestlers are bald. What was your game plan against him?

Ken: So, failing at any attempts to strike back at the big lug by means of hair pulling, I was forced to resort to a more accessible target: the big, blue elephant in the room… Sal’s massive bulge. That was to be my intended target… prominent, hard to miss, and it appeared to grow even larger with every passing moment of our match! It was kinda’ exciting being trapped beneath Sal’s massive, sweaty bulge, though. OK, I have to admit that most of my protests to the contrary were merely weak attempts at acting like I was feeling humiliated or abused. Truth be known, I loved every moment that this big, hunky heel’s swollen, blue basket was pressed into/onto my face; covering and smothering my nose and mouth so that all I could breath and taste was Sal’s intoxicating man scent! (Ohhh, YEAHHHHHH! )

Bard: Oh my God. I may have to take a break here. This is turning me on! Oh, fuck it. I want to hear more…

Ken: The next night, I was to experience yet another unbelievably wonderful wrestling dream: BG East’s first ever oil-wrestling orgy in which every body part of every BG East wrestler who’d been there that weekend had been slathered up with oil and then thrown into the hot, writhing fray. Kid Leopard had called it, “Wrestlefest 1,” and all I can remember about having been part of it, is how I’ve never experienced anything even remotely close to the raunchy thrills I was experiencing in the BG East ring on that magical evening.

Ken Canada right where he belongs: the the middle of BG East’s Battle R’Oil 

Bard: The Wrestlefest Battle R’Oil!!! What an insanely hot scenario! That match was a veritable who’s who of classic BG East fantasymen. Dark Rogers, Ian Nesbitt, DW, Shane McCall… if I’m not mistaken, it looks like you were having an insanely good time slathered in oil. Was it even half as over-the-top sexy as it looks?

Ken and his brothers-in-wrestling

Ken: On DVD, it looks hot, but believe me…actually being a part of it was ten times hotter! The arousing feeling of all those hot, slippery muscular bodies making full contact with each other, with many strong, curious hands eagerly reaching into each other’s bulging, oil-dripping spandex is unlike anything you’ve ever even dreamed of experiencing! And to add to the raunchiness, Kid Leopard had chosen to dim the room lights. Ahhhhhhh…Ohhhhh! Yeahhhhh! On my final night there, the film, “Independence Day” had just opened in the theaters, and I’d asked if we could all go as a group to see it. The film was a lot of fun, but what I’d most enjoyed that evening in that darkened theater was the feeling of being nestled next to my wrestling idols and newfound “brothers;” sharing something which went far beyond a movie – it felt almost as if I’d found a place in a second family which, up until that weekend, I didn’t even know I’d had. From a small group of like-minded, beautiful men who had, on that weekend, assembled in Pembroke, Massachusetts from all over the world, I’d made wonderful new friends, with whom I’ll be forever brothers in wrestling!

Bard: What a heart-warming image, picturing you all hanging out together and taking in a movie.

Ken: Yeah, I felt like I was sitting around the dinner table at the Walton’s house. “Good night, John Boy!”

Down for the Count

wrestlebard6 Comments

I received this email last night:

Kink is sad to announce that we have stopped production of Naked Kombat for the time being. There will be no new updates to the site for the foreseeable future. This was a difficult decision and we would like to extend a warm “Thank You” to all of our members and fans.

Truth be told, I haven’t been enjoying Naked Kombat as much as I used to. I know I’m not alone among the wrestling kink crowd in my waning interest in the pornboy-does-erotic-combat format.  For me, it may have been the relentless structure of NK that quickly became formulaic (which is a major criticism I have of porn in general). After a while it felt like each release was the same product, just with different bodies cycling through. It could have been the wrestlers. The pornboy stars lately have not been giving me the instant arousal that NK boys in the past have. My waning attention for NK could certainly have had to do with the kombat itself. Occasionally there were seriously enthusiastic and skilled grapplers hitting the NK mat, but too often the kombatants came across more as pornboys tussling as foreplay for the way they really make their money: the sex round.

Rookie Gavin Waters thinks he’s got my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy’s number.
Calm, cool, collected Trent Diesel knows better.

The factors explaining my waning interest probably have absolutely nothing to do with Kink’s decision to terminate production of NK.  But I’m still feeling a little grief over the loss of the company that has brought me several of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboys. Trent Diesel, my reigning homoerotic wrestling pornboy, may be in serious danger of losing his grip on the title unless another company picks up his most entertaining talents (please!).

Ripped Trent Diesel teaches cocky Gavin Waters the price of losing at Naked Kombat.

One of the aspects of NK that I’ve definitely enjoyed is their particular blend of wrestling and homoeroticism. The grapplers were always explicitly rewarded for bringing the sexy into the confrontation. They received points for cock abuse, force-feeding, ass slapping, etc. And then in the sex round, the victor’s task was to take possession of the loser and heap humiliation in any way possible (though imaginations were often wanting in round 4, in my opinion). Spanking, the pony ride, the rat tail… a relatively narrow repertoire of humiliation was sprinkled in amid the otherwise straightforward sucking and fucking.

Rusty is master at exploiting all 4 rounds to their maximum wrestling kink potential.

Arguably, no one exploited the format more entertainingly than Rusty Stevens, which also contributed to his very long tenure as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy. His leg choke while controlling Tommy Defendi’s every self-stimulating move like a sadistic puppeteer, was probably the most arousing and innovative sex round device I ever saw in NK.

Tommy Defendi is defenseless against the crushing tide of Rusty’s offense.

I believe Rusty was undefeated in NK competition, which is the way it should be, in my opinion. Left to his own devices, Rusty was a force of nature, beating away his opponent’s defenses like the rising tide itself, until one by one they fell and Rusty climbed on top. Elsewhere, Rusty has been more scripted, less spontaneous, which has simply not exploited the raw, animal, aggressive sexuality of this gorgeous pornboy.

Nikko Alexander mistakenly thinks he’s got it all wrapped up against lean DJ and his monster cock.

NK also gave me considerable pleasure in watching the character (and physical) development of NK scrapper, DJ. Setting aside the relatively racist undertones of his opponent’s trash talking, referencing his tightly kinky hair, most of the time DJ worked his own magic and won retribution for any pre-match slights by conquering one hard, bigger man after another through sheer force of will and ever increasing proficiency on the mat.

DJ is single-handely unstoppable against Cameron Adams & Leo Forte (combined!)!

That truly stunning monster cock of DJ’s didn’t hurt any either (except when ever inch of it was slammed up a loser’s ass). DJ grew on me over time. With every new match he got stronger, faster, and more technically skilled. His victory rounds got hotter and hotter, and there’s just about nothing as awe-inspiring as his performance teaming up with partner Trent against Cameron Adams and Leo Forte.

DJ and Trent Diesel illustrate teamwork at it’s very, very best!

The twosome of Trent and DJ are a striking pair to gaze at, but even their opponents agree in the end that DJ is a fucking unstoppable beast in this match. He’s the smallest man on the mat, and frequently he successfully dominates both opponents single-handedly during the grace periods when Leo or Cameron tagged in and had an opportunity to double team him. Double team my ass! DJ is like a cornered badger, more vicious, tenacious, and dangerous against two opponents than he is against just one.

Epic clash between muscle hunk John Magnum and lithe scrapper, Phillip Aubrey

As the life of NK flashes before my eyes, it occurs to me that there have been plenty of moments of homoerotic wrestling epiphany. John Magnum and Phillip Aubrey’s nail biter comes to mind. Magnum’s only appearance on NK was epic. He’s made for full-on gay pro wrestling if ever a pornboy was. He’s magnum sized, and even sexier, he’s absolutely giddy with delight in every moment that he manages to subdue and humiliate Phillip. He laughs proudly at his own mastery. He flings himself across the mat and into every hold. He trash talks from start to finish.

Phillip Aubrey restrains momentarily restrains the beast.

And even then, Phillip Aubrey was equally satisfying, perhaps more so because I expected myself to be so enthralled with the big muscle boy Magnum. Phillip is astonishingly sexy on the mat. He bends like Gumby, and he seems to have a tolerance for pain that’s simply off the charts. He seriously, seriously dominated his much bigger and stronger opponent a whole lot, and indeed, I personally think he clearly ought to have been the decisive winner. Even that drama, the disputed call of the judges, makes the Magnum/Aubrey match fucking hot, hot, hot!

Spencer Reed obliterates John Stone in March 2009

There’ve been other NK matches and pornboy wrestlers of note, of course. Big, dominating Spencer Reed, sincere as hell Patrick Rouge, muscle ass babyface Dean Tucker, the terminator Tyler Saint…. the list is extensive. However, most of the names that I come up with as epitomizing my affection for NK come from deep, deep in the archives. Speaking of, I don’t know what happens to the NK archives. I’m not going to keep paying for a subscription to a site with nothing new, and I figure they’ll have to roll the archives into some other aspect of the kink.com universe, which other than NK simply hasn’t appealed to what it is that turns me on: wrestling.

Gavin Waters’ first introduction to Naked Kombat and Trent Diesel’s picture perfect cock.

Despite my ambivalence about the recent run of NK, I’m still sad to see them go down. For the years of homoerotic pornboy wrestling entertainment, the blood, sweat and tears (especially the sweat), and the many innovations in wrestling kink, I thank you, Naked Kombat. To the producers, technical staff, and especially the beautiful pornboys putting their bodies on the mat and their asses on the line week after week, you will be missed.

Trent Diesel oils up with Ryan Rockford

Now, I know of some stunning pornboys all oiled up with no place to wrestle. Surely, someone can help these boys out.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

wrestlebard1 Comment

Knowing that democracy can be addictive, I realize that some of you may be disappointed that I’m unilaterally selecting my favorite homoerotic wrestler of the month this month. 116 readers registered their votes for last month’s homoerotic wrestler of the month in the first ever reader’s choice wrestler of the month here at neverland. To feed the democratic spirit and give you an opportunity have your voice heard, I’ll post a new poll for a reader’s choice award next week.

In the mean time, I’m returning to the one true through-line that connects all of the dots here at neverland: that which turns me on.  November saw a healthy, if not bumper crop of homoerotic wrestling new releases. Muscle hunk Jake Jenkins delightfully introduced “rookie” Eli Black to the high-impact, high-definition world of Rock Hard Wrestling. Expertly sadistic Jobe Zander introduced Jersey Shore rookie Derek Fox to every ball bashing maneuver conceivable in Can-Am’s Decrotchery 2.  Thunder’s Arena’s Eric Fury makes bubble-butted Uno hurt so good in bed with him in No Holds Barred 16. I’m also joining the chorus of Thunder’s fans almost giddy with lust over gigantic, gorgeous, muscle-butted rookie Boxxy, and in particular, I’m jonesin’ off of what he and bearded thighmaster, Rex do to me in Battle of the Scissors. BG East delivered an unexpected 0.2 iteration of catalog 89 in November, with fantastic performances from smoldering rookie Rafael Valmor and Blaine Janus in Undagear 18, as well as mind-blowing crushing from my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, non-pornboy division, Lon Dumont, delivering an unquestionably “badder” expert Rookie Wrecking against handsome, hairy hunk Morgan Cruise.

This is a hot, hot field of worthy contenders for the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month! Several of these sexy athletes have already proven themselves by claiming titles among my favorites in the past, and even more inspiring, the field is astonishingly strong in seriously impressive debuts of extremely entertaining rookies who are instantly on my radar to keep my eye out for. But there can be only one homoerotic wrestler of the month (ignoring last March), and truth be told, there’s one wrestler in this impressive field who just can’t help himself but command my attention and recur repeatedly in my wrestling fantasies. Step aside, Aryx Quinn, because the new reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month is…

Both reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month and title holder
as my favorite homoerotic wrestler – non-pornboy division: Lon Dumont.
…BG East’s Lon Dumont.
Lon was the original holder of the title as my favorite homoerotic wrestler (non-pornboy), and he’s had a crushing, unflinching hold on that title as impressively as he squeezes every ounce of breath and will-power out of rookie Morgan Cruise. His appearance in Rookie Wreckers nearly made me miss a day of work. I somehow restrained myself from calling in sick when the match arrived, but I’ve blown a whole lot of time and a whole lot of body fluids on Lon’s detailed instructional one-on-one workshop on heel-wannabe Morgan.

Lon employs every one of his stunning muscles to wreck the rookie.
Regular readers know that I was instantly and overwhelmingly moved by Lon from the very first glimpse of him forcing big, sexy Eddy Rey to flex in Fantasymen 32.  In Rookie Wreckers, he’s back, now with a full head of hair and possessing even more astonishing fitness and muscle definition than we’ve ever seen from him before (and that’s saying a whole lot!). He’s absolutely sculpted. He’s ripped to shreds. His already competition-worthy abs are cut even deeper, and his legs are bigger. And despite my ambivalence about Lon’s report that he was growing his hair back, a full head of hair looks just fine on this superhuman specimen.
Professor Dumont is a hands-on type of instructor.
I’m prepared to climb into the ring and crush anyone who thinks he deserves to be president of the Lon Dumont fan club more than me. And it’s not just because of Lon’s smokin’ hot, award winning physique. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: it’s wrestling that turns me on, and Lon’s wrestling is perfectly tuned to my tastes. Lon does to Morgan precisely what keeps me coming back for more from my homoerotic wrestling suppliers. He climbs into the ring supremely confident, even in the face of his bigger, furrier opponent. He lays out the story in simple detail: Morgan has arrived on the doorstep of BG East to be the next great heel, and The Boss has pulled in a favor to have Lon put the youngster through his paces to see what he’s got to back up his bravado. Lon always gives credit where credit is due, unreservedly appreciating Morgan’s big, hairy pecs that he is so, so proud to bounce in Lon’s face. And then Lon unleashes a crippling assault like a barrage of cruise missiles tearing the rookie apart joint by joint and limb by limb.
Morgan is a captive audience to Lon’s didactic delivery.
Lon is a patient teacher. There’s something incredibly hot about the calm, cool explanations that he gives to his pupil with each application of devastating humiliation, illustrating the marriage of art and science that is being an accomplished heel. Morgan is writhing in agony, clearly uncertain as to which end is up or where in the hell he is in the world from the expertly delivered barrage of punishment, while Lon is dispassionately delivering his “pointers” like he’s laying out a scientific proof. Lon’s cool, however, cracks just a bit. When he traps the big rookie helpless in the ropes, Lon generously gives the barely conscious rookie a front row seat to Lon’s mandatory bodybuilding poses (damn, I’d sell my firstborn to TicketMaster for that…). The point, Lon explains, is that Morgan’s rookie beef is laughable compared to the exquisitely crafted beauty and power of Lon’s competition-ready muscles. So if anyone is going to flex, if anyone has something to strut and crow about, it’s not some fresh-faced, green ROOKIE with VISIONS of SGT. SLAUGHTER!!!  It’s the proven talent, the weathered granite, the proportions and the skills of an indy wrestler with years under his belt and more tricks up his proverbial sleeve than Morgan has had birthdays.
Morgan squeezes some juices out of his bodybuilder tormentor.
The rookie eventually gets lucky and makes Lon suffer in a sensationally sexy series of bearhugs. Like the proven pro he is, Lon sells the taking of abuse every bit as beautifully as he dishes it out. But it’s Lon climbing back on top, flexing and squeezing, crushing and pounding, and pouring out wit and wisdom as unnecessary evidence that he’s smarter than your average bear, that supercharges my already deep reservoir of Lon Dumont fanaticism.
Lon glistens while Morgan withers.
There’s not an inch of this man’s body that doesn’t make me dizzy (including his perfectly packed trunks). There’s not a second of his tutorial on bewildered Morgan that doesn’t hold me riveted in my seat and sweating bullets. Lon Dumont makes me gasp. He makes me laugh. And more than any other of the very worthy nominees, he is without a doubt my homoerotic wrestler of the month.

The undisputed title holder.