Summertime and the Livin’ Is Easy

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Like fresh picked berries and crotch watching at the beach, BG East’s Summer Sizzler’s releases have become a seasonal treat for me.  I’m a little dizzy from the initial overdose I just subjected myself to, scoping out the preview pics that are part of catalog 99.1, just released.

Boyfriend jobbers Skip and Christian make me think it’s not all bad getting crushed by Morgan Cruise.

Making my eyes water the hardest are the initial shots of Tag Team Torture 16: Boyfriend Beatdown, featuring the combo I’ve been bitching and moaning in anticipation of for years.  Skip Vance and his  real life boyfriend (and former HWOTM) Christian Taylor climb into the ring together for a 2-on-1 battle against heel-risen Morgan Cruise.  Holy shit, this looks insanely hot.  This looks like it’s heading in all the right directions, and I’m a little breathless in anticipation.

Chace LaChance and Braden Charron are RIPPED! 

Speaking of breathless, shocking me just a little are the preview pics of the “Bonus Match” (for ordering all of the Summer Sizzlers) featuring Braden Charron and Chace LaChance both appearing to have physically peaked for the season at precisely the same moment that they climbed into the ring together.  I may have seen Braden this ripped… possibly, but holy hell, I have never seen Chace as put together as this. Fuck. Me. Please.

Who’s Got Whom? Eli Black or Cameron Matthews? 

Mat Hunks 9 is a stand-alone compilation that delivers a pretty perfect 8-pack selection of thirst-quenching hunks such as I’m not sure I’ve seen all on one DVD before.  3-time HWOTM Eli Black looks like he’s got his hands full with former HWOTM Cameron Matthews.  This is a fascinating pairing, I think, and Cameron’s showmanship combined with Eli’s intensity seems like a formula for either disaster or perfection.  I’m voting for perfection.

Rafe Sanchez takes the ride of MY life!

And speaking of perfection, former HWOTM and former and long-running overall favorite homoerotic wrestler of mine, Mitch Colby, snaps those tanned, rock hard thighs around the smooth, sexy head of long, long running infatuation of mine (though never a HWOTM), Rafe Sanchez (mmmmmmmm… Rafe).  These two have appeared in some of the over the top sexiest wrestling I’ve ever enjoyed, so combined, I’m feeling dehydrated just thinking about it.  And I’m not even going to mention the perfection of asses featured in the other two matches on Mat Hunks 9… yet.

Hot, hard muscles turned to jelly.
I will mention that my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (non-pornboy) Lon Dumont is also out in a new product, Knock Outs 2 , appearing back in the day when his head was smoother than Rafe Sanchez’.  The match promises both Lon and his opponent, veteran pro Paul Hudson, get sleepered repeatedly, and the image of lovely, powerful Lon so vulnerable, out cold, is giving me hot flashes!
Mr. Joshua had better watch his back (I’ll keep an eye on his front for him)

Finally, Ring Hunks 1 (how is this only the first of that title!?) throws former overall favorite homoerotic wrestler Mr. Joshua’s massive package headlong into the dangerous machinations of former HWOTM and recent interviewee here, Aryx Quinn.  If anyone can unleash the beast, surely it’s diabolical Aryx!   Right?!  Please!?

Another who’s got whom from Summer Sizzlers: Wrestle Shack 17… my money is on Dylon Robert’s thighs.

So these releases technically fall in the month of May, but there’s no way I can assess them in time for tomorrow’s crowning of a new HWOTM, so they’re officially delayed to join the June releases.  In the mean time, pass me a protein drink.  I’m going in….

Another Rose By Any Other Name

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5’10”, 156 lbs, Thunder’s Arena’s resident bad ass twink: TAK

I haven’t yet sparked one of those slightly panicky messages from a young hunk who’d really, really prefer that I take down references to their more explicit porn career in response to yesterday’s post.  Cool!  Celebrate what you got, boys! Adam did contact me though to let me know that 1) Blogger wouldn’t permit him to post a comment, and 2) Thunder’s Arena’s TAK can also be seen doing his thang at SeanCody.

First of all, sorry for those who frequently let me know that Blogger isn’t allowing them to comment.  Our Google overlords have moved on to their next big innovative roll-out, I’m sure, so kinks and bugs like this seem to pop up with increasing frequency around here.  Second of all, as I’ve mentioned recently, I occasionally get a major twink-lust, and damn it all if “The All-American Kid” TAK doesn’t scratch it good!  There’s something visually vulnerable about him, particularly when juxtaposed with the seriously massive mountains of beef that Thunder’s has tended toward in recent years.  More than just sheer size, though, TAK’s blond, blue-eyed, long, lean beauty is almost “delicate,” I’d say.  He looks like he’d burn in the sun without SPF 5,000.  I’d guess he could’ve been a sickly kid.  So when he slaps down a sweetly intense mat offense and makes an opponent squeal a little, and then flexes his ectomorph muscles cockily, the drama is hot and compelling.

SeanCody’s Sheldon (and his power washer)

Eagle-eyed Adam put 2 and 2 together and passed along the conclusion that Thunder’s Arena’s “The All-American Kid” is also SeanCody’s Sheldon.  Nice, nice, nice!  Somehow TAK looks considerably less vulnerable to me with his semi-erect cock swinging free.  That’s a choice piece of meat to go with the boy-next-door beauty and deceptively shy grin.  SeanCody’s page mentions that Sheldon is a heavy artillery shooter, and Adam confirmed this when he contacted me to put me on this trail.  Our boy boasts that he can launch a load that will hit the ceiling, and Adam says “the guy shoots the biggest, farthest load you’ll ever see this side of Shane Erickson.”

All the right elements to a seriously, explicitly erotic chart topper!

Which makes his match against fellow SeanCody alum and bareback rodeo star Mogly seem like so much potential unrealized.  Can you just imagine the chart topper this would have been had Mogly used that free left hand of his when he had TAK at his mercy in this backbreaker, to yank down his trunks and work that hose until TAK doused a bonfire!?

5’9″, 212 lbs, Thunder’s Arena’s Xavier

My second sleuth today is again another find from my own foraging. And, again, it’s another Thunder’s Arena wrestler, namely Xavier.  Xavier’s a typical Thunder’s Arena powerhouse. Thunder’s says he’s 5’9″ and 212 pounds.  He wrestles with a dark coat of hair on those massive pecs, and he sports some aggressive ink that I really like the look of.

Xavier takes a good look at what his muscle domination does to studpuppy Hoop.

Xavier is sweetly satisfying as an overpowering bully who delights in exploiting an outmuscled opponent.  Like serious crushes of mine before him, he works his magic all over luscious bon bon Hooper who responds in the way that Hoop seems unable to resist when dominated by superior firepower.  Xavier-the-wrestler strikes me as a brute force bull, like the tat on his right arm, plowing through the china shop of lesser men.

Vegas boy and RentMen’s XavierMuscle

Following the trail of breadcrumbs he leaves on Twitter, Instagram, RentMen and Facebook, when he’s not crushing a turned-on little hunk like Hoop, Xavier is available by the hour via RentMen or for public consumption as a muscle dancer at a gay club in Las Vegas.  Here’s a prime example of how different contexts shed such a different light on a hot piece of meat like Xavier.  I’d never really noticed his gorgeous eyes, and in his case, I’m all over those massive, meaty pecs shaved over au naturel.  Far less a brute than a beauty, Xavier as muscle god is a work of art. Seeing how he can handle the jackhammer he’s equipped with, again I have to say I think it’s a crying shame he didn’t do more than just raise an eyebrow at Hoop’s swollen package propped up so perfectly in that OTK.

I could feast for days on those shaved pecs!

Again, as always, if this post suddenly becomes populated with pictures of puppies, you’ll know that someone prefers that his G-rated non-explicit homoerotic wrestling persona overlap with his X-rated porn star alter-ego.  Fair enough.  I’m always more than ready to fulfill a request from a wrestler to craft his wrestling presence in precisely the way he wants it.  But my point is really that there’s sometimes more homoerotic potential in our homoerotic wrestling fare, and I’m a booster for exploiting potential to its fullest.

A Rose By Any Other Name

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I always, always, always get in trouble with these types of posts, and yet I’m irresistibly drawn to keep posting them.  As I’ve said in the past, should photos of the implicated parties suddenly be changed to adorable puppies, you can assume that the wrestlers implicated have kindly requested that I unlink their different personas.  In the meantime, I always feel a little thrill to discover a homoerotic wrestling hottie pop up in a different context, especially a porn (even softcore) setting.

Thunder’s Arena’s Mogly flashes biceps and Blue Steel

To start with, a frequent commenter and friend of this blog a while back pointed out to me a tasty little nugget he discovered while panning for gold over at SeanCody. I, like many of you, was first introduced to this doe-eyed mouthful of sweetness via Thunder’s Arena’s strictly trunks-on format, billed as 5’10”, 160 pound stud puppy Mogly.

Mogly keeps his trunks on as he suffers a major Impact

I’ve seen only one of his matches, in which his lean, athletic body gets pummeled relentlessly.  He has an adorably, cheesy grin and a fun attitude in the fun-n-games format of Thunder’s.

SeanCody’s Tanner is known for his massive, pendulous balls

It turns out Mogly has also pulled the trunks off for SeanCody, appearing as big-balled beauty, 20-year-old Tanner who doesn’t appear shy at all about his cock-n-ball close-ups, or his barebacking adventures slapping those balls down as he pounds Jayden’s ass. In other words, he’s game for wrestling and full-contact naked eroticism, so only half of his raw, pendulous talents are truly getting exploited to their fullest at Thunder’s.  Get this boy suited up for a rip ‘n’ strip full-on erotic combat match pronto.  And many thanks, Jose, for connecting these eye-catching dots!

Brit bombshell Connor Cross has major league assets.

My second catch isn’t nearly as salacious (no porn connection that I know of), but I reeled this one in all on my own.  A few months ago, a gorgeous Brit by the name of Connor Cross made his BG East debut against arguably equally as gorgeous (in a different way) Serbian pec star, Arn Nedic.  Personally, if I had to choose an hour in a motel room with mattresses thrown on the floor with only one of them, I think I’d have to take the Serbian stunner.  However, if it’s a mouthwatering muscled ass I’m in the mood for (which happens not infrequently), lovely Arn would get a kick to the curb for me to get my hands (and other body parts) all over Connor’s gorgeous glutes.

Connor Cross and Arn Nedic debuted in BG East’s Motel Madness 12

Following my frequent crush SteelMuscleGod, I came across (so to speak) his recent YouTube posting calling out a certain Brit trash talker by the name of Josh Williams who he claims he bested on the wrestling mats during a UK trip a year or so ago.  Following the links to Josh Williams, I came (so to speak) to discover that Josh is none other that asstastic muscle boy extraordinaire, BG East’s Connor Cross… or, I suppose, BG East’s Connor Cross is none other than YouTube’s (and more importantly SMG’s) Josh Williams.

Josh Williams flexes and has fun as TheMusclePerformance.

As I get lost in which is the superhero and which the mild mannered alter ego, let me just say that more of muscleboy Josh/Connor is most definitely not a bad thing, even if his YouTube channel is currently populated entirely by muscle worship fare.  He has a sweet sense of humor, such as when some catty bitch commented on an underwear post of Josh’s that his package looked undersized.  Josh laughed it off, proudly announcing he’s a grower, not a show-er.  Josh does this fucking adorable little bow at the end of his muscle worship posts that melts my heart.  He also has a sweet trash talking retort to SMG (trash talk in an English accent is somehow sexier, no?), in which he appears to confirm that he did not own SMG during their wrestling foray, but predicts he will if the rematch is ever booked.  Can I pay someone in the UK to tape a copy of this thing?  HD will be required, as well as lots of close-ups of asses.  I’ll add a bonus for footage of the bare naked muscle worship that simply has to happen once one of these internet muscle stars is conquered.

There’ll never be enough close-ups of that ass!

If you’ve got other small world moments with our favorite homoerotic wrestling stars, let me know.  And you’re Mogly/Tanner or Connor/Josh and prefer me to rewrite this post without your names, replacing your photos with puppies to keep your alter egos secret, just send me the request… and an autographed photo.

Happy Memorial Day

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I don’t have much connection to the military.  My grandfather was in the occupation forces in Japan following WWII, but other than that, I don’t think I actually know anyone with first-hand experience in the military (which is sort of amazing, really).  Other than learning a lot of dumb ass racial stereotypes that I’ve had to deprogram from after listening to my grandfather’s non-combat exploits in Japan, everything I really know about the military comes from homoerotic wrestling.

Army vet and Guy Pearce look-alike Steve Sherman

For example, BG East’s Paradise 4 taught me that army boys look like way beefed up versions of Guy Pearce, with the roundest, hottest, muscled bubble butts in the world.

This I learned from Steve Sherman flexing and pumping his hips and letting his “manager-for-the-night” (hey, I still want that job!), coat him in baby oil everywhere.

Champion of the marines, muscleman Wade Cutler

Paradise 4 also taught me that marines are, arguably, a fraction hotter than Guy Pearce look-alike army boys, with gargantuan pecs and shoulders, though perhaps not quite as juice an ass.  Wade Cutler’s buzz cut, square jaw and insanely sexy strut-n-smirk made me entirely rethink my preconceptions about marines.

Army lifts Marines and takes a long gander at that ass.

Paradise 4 further taught me that there are inter-branch rivalries between branches of the American armed forces that must be tested and tried in the only reasonable fashion: a thong-bikini oil wrestling match in front of a live audience at a gay club.

Army mounts and controls the muscle Marine.
I learned that although marine boys may look more intimidating, deliriously fuckable Guy Pearce look-alike army boys can frequently neutralize Wade Cutler’s massive muscles and put the gorgeous marine on his back…

Army in total control, publicly humiliating Marine muscles.

… and on his front, allowing Steve to humiliate the musclebound marine in front of an audience of delighted fans.

Army v Marines?  Army bumps, grinds and physically dominates!
Finally, Paradise 4 taught me that given 3 rounds of loosely refereed, excessively lubricated mat wrestling between an army boy and a musclebound marine, Steve Sherman will completely make Wade Cutler his bitch!  I would never have guessed it, but I’ve seen it for myself… many times over… such that my old VHS tape is getting worn out and threatening to break.  There’s a strip-ring rematch between these two on Hard Pros 3 that I haven’t seen, but the photos look like mouthwatering Wade Cutler’s attempt to redeem the Marines goes down in yet another humiliating, sleepered-out cold blaze of bare naked glory.
Proud Army vet Aryx Quinn
Many years later, former homoerotic wrestler of the month and interviewee here at neverland accepted the torch from fellow army vet Steve Sherman and showed up to test the fraternal rivalry once more against marine Marco Guerra in Military Muscle.  Aryx demonstrates that despite my earlier over-generalization, all army boys do not look like beefed up versions of Guy Pearce.  Some of them look like a much sexier and less religio-nutball version of Stephen Baldwin.  “Let me explain something to you, slowly, because you’re a marine,” Aryx explained to his muscled opponent.  “At BG East, the army runs the show!”
“At BG East, the army runs the show!” 
Honestly, Marco represents for the marines more competitively than Wade did.  Aryx has got a tiger by the tail as the two demonstrate what clearly is a rule: Army v Marines battles must involve strip wrestling.  The action is nastier than Steve Sherman’s 2-time beating up of Marine muscleman Wade, but again, it appears that a foundational truth is that when nuts and bare-asses are on the line, Army makes the Marines their bitches.
Boot Camp Drill Sergeant Travis teaches new recruit Tommy Cruze how it’s done.
Can-Am’s Boot Camp introduced me to exactly the tactics and techniques required to turn a blond, blue-eyed boy fresh off the farm into a lean, mean fighting machine for the red-white-and-blue.  Drill Sergeant T begins by teaching young Tommy Cruze military hand-to-hand combat. 
Military training covers all possible contingencies, including naked combat.
When your drill sergeant looks like Travis and your recruit like Tommy Cruze, perhaps it should come as no surprise that the extremely thorough fight education our soldiers undergo includes how to handle yourself when forcibly ripped and stripped out of your fatigues.  Again, obviously 1:1 military combat always gets naked.
Outranked.
I also learned why they call them “Drill Sargeants.”
Recruit Brodie handles recruit Derek Cruz in Military Locker Room

Can-Am’s Military Locker Room reinforced a few of the lessons I already learned.  For example, military training always involves rip ‘n’ strip wrestling between hardbodied hunks.

Brodie and Derek stay combat-ready.

Military Locker Room also taught me that the necessary finale to a hot and steamy soldierboy beatdown is a side-by-side jack-off session in the showers.

BG East’s Corporal John Daniels

BG East’s Corporal John Daniels’ Hunkbash 8 appearance taught me how soldier boys fare when faced with civilian thugs like notorious BG East heel, Dave Christian.  Apparently, when it’s not a military v military battle, the trunks stay on (damn it).

The people reject martial law.
And I was shocked to discover that when faced with overwhelming firepower, Corporal John crumbles like blue cheese, transforming from a commandingly barking superior into a writhing, wallowing, physically and psychologically crushed mass of gorgeous meat.  To summarize, when it’s army v marines, army wins.  When it’s army v army, rank wins.  When it’s military v civilian heel, civilian heel beats the living shit of the soldierboy.
John Magnum brings superior firepower pointed directly at civilian Philip Aubrey
But wait.  Then there’s the counter-evidence offered by Naked Kombat, pitting 6-years of military hand-to-hand combat training of aptly named John Magnum against astonishingly lean, granola munching competitive yoga pornboy Philip Aubrey.  Perhaps Magnum just outranked Corporal John Daniels, but whatever the reason, this is definitely not a hunkbash romp of crumbling military might.
John Magnum aims his artillery toward enemy lines.
It’s also not a runaway victory for marital law, either, as Magnum and Aubrey are surprisingly evenly matched throughout their NK mat match.  Magnum’s far superior fire power, however, may be the edge that Corporal Daniels just didn’t have in his civilian humiliation, because Magnum narrowly tames the hippy pornboy in the end.
Taming the civilian loser in the end.
And, it turns out, when the soldierboy comes out victorious over the civilian, all of that pent up boot camp hazing and humiliation comes pouring out all over the hippy loser.  Further lesson for me, when a soldier capitalizes on his military combat training to edge out a civilian pornboy, there will be a cock-tucked pony ride and lingering, groaning oral and anal.

I am one of the last people you’ll see draping myself in an American flag.  I spend more time shaking my head at the squandering of our beautiful combat-trained hotties in blatantly unnecessary deployments around the world than I do pledging allegiance to the flag.  But even I will admit that there is a necessary and proper role of a well-maintained military in establishing peace and security.  For those who’ve done just that, I offer my respect this Memorial Day.  And for those who’ve turned that military conditioning and training into over the top homoerotic wrestling art, I offer my enthusiastic and wholehearted gratitude.

A Case for a Face

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Red-white-and-blue junior Captain Americas as pretty, pumped, and competitive as babyfaces can be: Jake Jenkins and Austin Cooper
All in the same day a couple of days ago, SP at Inner Jobber posted a by-the-numbers “how to be a fantasy wrestling jobber (like Curtis Thompson)” post, and Joe at Ringside at Skull Island posted a “you might be a heel if…” list of distinguishing characteristics of the heel set, and I briefly mentioned my guilty pleasure of watching a babyface hero defeat an evil doer in the ring.  I think there’s less said than should be about professional wrestlers who fall neither into the doomed to be exploited category or the devious exploiters category.  Since SP and Joe did such thoughtful treatments of jobbers and heels, I decided to try to do a little more justice on behalf of that oft-maligned class of homoerotic wrestlers: the face.
I’ve got a longstanding crush on handsome hero Mitch Colby.

I say oft-maligned because I think to be compelled to pull for the handsome hero is frequently portrayed as gullible.  To boost for the “good guy,” the hard worker, the play-by-the rules, sincere competitor is frequently equated with naiveté.  Guys into the conquering and suffering of a pretty boy may ache for their jobbers, and guys into domination and humiliation dished out by a villain will pull for their heels.  I have a long, long record of working up a head of steam for plenty of jobbers and plenty of heels.  But call me gullible and naive, because (not always, but definitely sometimes) nothing will crank on my chain as convincingly as an all-in babyface (or just “face”) beauty using brains and brawn to overcome treachery and deceit.

Gorgeous face Denny Cartier is all skill, stamina, and strength on the mat.

I venture into this territory with eyes open.  I’ve seen the equivalent of doctoral dissertations written on parsing out opinions about what and who qualifies to be classified as a babyface wrestler.  I’d bet money someone will let me know where I got it wrong by the time I finish this post.  And I love that about us.  We’re the aroused, gorgeous gay nerds of professional wrestling.  We care way too much, leading us to quibble and at times even squabble about what is, let’s face it, minutiae and trivia.  We openly defy orthodoxies on one hand (e.g., celebrating the fierce, butch, dangerously strong and masculine gay man), while on the other hand bitterly defend other orthodoxies (e.g., heaping contempt on the commenter who describes your favorite jobber as a face, or vice versa).  Despite the apparent perception of others that I consider myself an expert, I offer this as nothing more than my personal system for classifying that distinctive breed of wrestler-for-pay who is not the villain, and he’s not the wrestler who seems eternally destined to lose beautifully.  But rather, he’s the heroic athlete determined to defeat his opponents with skill, stamina, and strength, and sometimes, he even succeeds.

Fiercely pretty babyface tagteam Zack Coleman and Brian Barnes.
Like babies themselves, I can’t think of anyone ugly who I’d classify as a babyface wrestler.  Granted, “ugly” is entirely subjective, but inclusion criteria for babyface wrestlers (as far as I’m concerned), include a strong, chiseled chin, gorgeous, piercing (often blue) eyes, and a gym-toned body with beautiful skin.  The parameters are flexible to accommodate an assortment of tastes (eye of the beholder and all), but something obviously beautiful seems a prerequisite.  A babyface seems to, by definition, be attractive in a conventional sense.  It’s not like particularly homoerotic wrestling is well-populated with men who fail to meet basic standards of physical attractiveness, but those especially handsome Clark Kent-esque boys tend to get checks in my personal tally of elements that add up to the essential ingredients of a compelling face.  Necessary but not sufficient criteria to be a babyface, it seems to me, is eye-catching beauty.  
Alexi Adamov strives valiantly to honestly overcome notorious Aryx Quinn’s dirty tricks.
Further inclusion criteria for me include that babyface wrestlers tend to stick to the straight and narrow when faced with (as they frequently are) an underhanded, dirty, no-good heel.  Here’s where it comes in handy to have powerful muscles and innate athleticism (again, necessary but not sufficient characteristics of faces – plenty of heels and jobbers have beautiful muscles and obvious athleticism).  When faced with cheating and trickery, the Pearl Harbor before the bell rings, the hair pull, the crotch blow, the foreign object, the refusal to break a hold when the action hits the ropes, the babyface hero grimaces, shakes his head (“kids these days”) and reinvests his faith in his thousands of hours of gym time and, hopefully, substantive experience and wrestling skills.  An occasional venture into a retributive low blow not-withstanding (particularly in homoerotic wrestling), the face places his confidence in the superiority of his physique, his mental preparation, his wrestling prowess, and the sincerity of his heart.  In a post-modern world, faces can get away with a lot more rule bending and still be objects of heroic adoration, of course.  They can most definitely lose their temper, open a can of unnecessarily rough whoop-ass, ravage an opponent momentarily in a rage.  But in the morality tales of homoerotic wrestling, if I see a handsome stud tend toward the exercise of self-restraint and appear to intentionally decline to take shortcuts, I check off another box in the face checklist.

Who’s got whom? Babyface hearthrob Brad Rochelle battles babyface heartthrob Jeff Phoenix

That’s not to say a babyface can only be seen in matches against heels, of course.  He can most definitely wrestle another babyface or a jobber, by all means.  Sometimes, he may be less easily identified in those settings, but nevertheless he perseveres in the certainty that he is the “better man” which will lead to his victory (as opposed to the heel who sees his victory, by whatever means, as the evidence that he’s the better man).  A babyface v babyface battle can be a particularly compelling thing of beauty.  Two hard, hardworking studs who’ve been convinced by accolades and past victories that they are destined to succeed can generate intensely satisfying and homoerotically charged wrestling entertainment.  The allure of the thrill of competition (which I argue is an essential element of what turns me on about the drama of homoerotic wrestling) can be most poignant and compelling for me when it’s face v face, beauty v beauty, power v power.  These are matches in which tit-for-tat wrestling often makes me smile, as athletes play a game of HORSE, showing off their skills and strength in a one-upsmanship format.  Like knights in armor of old, they charge upright into one another with a typically unspoken assumption that purity of heart will add weight to the scales of justice, and the outcome is less about the delectable doings inside the ropes as it is about who wanted it more as demonstrated by preparation, training, and hard work before they entered the ring.

Classic babyface Christopher Bruce shocks and awes perennially supine Rio Garza

I also like the drama of a babyface v jobber match, though again, I think this can confuse folks who equate a serious mauling as the exclusive domain of a heel.  By my way of thinking, a babyface is generally convinced in the superiority of his training, conditioning, and strength, so there’s most definitely still a story to tell when he encounters a pretty slice of heaven with a track record for getting crushed and humiliated.  He wrestles because he has faith in the premise that if he is the better man, he will win.  Dangling a jobber in front of his face, particularly a tasty, pretty, unknowingly vulnerable jobber, merely offers him the opportunity to collect evidence to confirm what he already knew: all of his hard work destines him to conquer an unworthy opponent.  A jobber’s job is that much more crucial in a babyface v jobber match, because his suffering must rise from being outmatched and outwitted above board.  There’s not likely a low blow or a nipple-twist to explain what threw the jobber off his game, so the two must dance the intricate dance of decisive, convincing combat.  A jobber must beat like a wave upon the sand against the superior strength of body and spirit, only slowly to ebb in will and perseverance in the face of the innate dominance of the finely tuned babyface offense.  Not an ounce less agony, not a smidge less suffering is required than if the jobber took a fist to the scrotum and had his face forced into a heel’s swelling crotch.  This tale is just a tad more subtle but no less tantalizing and tempting for my tastes, for the drama of a jobber slowly crumbling beneath a face.

Heel rising Morgan Cruise drops gorgeous giant Diego Diaz with a shocking low blow

Finally, I’d like to make a case for holding these archetypes in pro wrestling lightly when it comes to homoerotic fare.  While I’m sure I’ll get crap for getting it wrong (won’t be the first time… to get crap or to get it wrong), I’ll also suggest that so far, there isn’t a homoerotic wrestling company producing a through-story with quite the consistency of a weekly mainstream pro wrestling serial in which these archetypes were birthed in live wrestling and televised wrestling entertainment decades ago (probably centuries, really).  Character development takes time and consistency that I think is particularly challenging in the catch-as-catch-can world of the homoerotic wrestling industry.  While there are notable exceptions, such as the highly entertaining through-story that Alex recently posted about regarding the crushing humiliation of fan-favorite face Brad Rochelle until Brad pulled off a sweetly satisfying heel turn in the middle of the Contract series, a chaptered story building motivation and a story arc is a rare element in homoerotic wrestling.  And therefore a face, jobber, or heel may be built or broken within the confines of a given match.  I find this type of story telling more intense, though inherently more difficult to latch onto favorite characters over time (because characters may play multiple roles in seemingly out-of-order sequences).  In other words, my favorite industry highlights that a face (or a jobber or a heel) is not who a wrestler is, but what a wrestler does.  The sum total of a storied career in pro wrestling for gay eyes likely demonstrates that “one man in his time plays many parts.”

Gorgeous babyface Justin Pierce puts the hurt on gorgeous babyface Tommy Tara

In his last post, Alex proposed a new Contract (or Contract-like-series) to chart another rare chaptered story of homoerotic wrestling drama.  I love that idea.  I’d also add my dream of an honest-to-god serial homoerotic pro wrestling story, released as a “season,” witnessing the rise and fall of wrestling hopefuls, the tensions and betrayals, the shocking humiliations and victories-against-the-well-established-odds… alliances made, loyalties tested, egos crushed, losers showing up again owned and operated by the man who bested them… roaring testimonials, sweat-soaked post-match interviews, an explicitly named grudge, a quest for vengeance.  There are some nice tropes and devices of classic mainstream pro wrestling that I think have yet to be fully translated into an explicitly homoerotic context.  I’m sure it would require an entirely different production, likely including prohibitive amounts of scheduling, investment, and choreography.  But seriously, I’d pay a premium for that, particularly with an explicitly homoerotic angle.  Some more suspense, a story arc, a chance to tune in repeatedly to be compelled by a favorite face, heel or jobber… surely there’s a significant market for that.

Babyface beauty Cameron Matthews heeled by Kid Vicious
So I started by making a case for a face, which I still stand by enthusiastically.  Heroes battling for good, winning valiantly, losing in soul-crushing, despair-inducing humiliation… fuck, I love that guy.  But I’d love him even more in a context in which I could watch his character grow and change, in which his motivation is more explicit, contrasts drawn more starkly, perhaps his heel turn that much more shocking because he’d convinced me of his utter trust that right will ultimately overcome might.  I’m sure it’s a pipe dream, but it’s still a dream that makes my blood pulse harder.

More to Say

wrestlebard2 Comments
I astonish myself just a bit by the fact that I have offered merely passing reference thus far to the newest new release by long standing favorite and perpetual favorite emeritus homoerotic wrestler around these parts, Mitch Colby.
6’2, 205 lbs., my favorite homoerotic wrestler emeritus: Mitch Colby
I have several possible excuses for this perplexing oversight.  One possible excuse is that Cybertron’s epic mauling and dismantling of luscious little Ronny Pearl on this DVD shockingly grabbed my attention and distracted me from giving the rest of the matches in Ringwars 21 their due.  Another more cheeky excuse is that soon after its release, Cage Thunder gave Mitch’s match against Skotch English some attention.  Hell, Cage Thunder actually offers faint praise for Mitch, poured so tightly into those metallic blue trunks.  “Giving credit where it’s due,” Cage writes, “the Bitch looks good.”  Faint praise from Cage Thunder for Mitch (who he affectionately refers to exclusively as Bitch) is equivalent to me tattooing Mitch’s gorgeous face across my lower abdomen.  And I cannot argue with Cage Thunder… Mitch looks very, very good.  What more is there to say!?
5’7″ Skotch English looks way up at 6’2″ Mitch Colby

Like Cage Thunder, I like Mitch at this point in his physique training.  He’s big, seriously meaty, but not as lean as we’ve seen him wrestle at times before.  Staring way, way down his nose at fireplug badass Skotch English, a full 7 inches shorter, Mitch is simply a stunning specimen.  Mitch was one of the earliest infatuations I called out on this blog almost exactly 4 years ago, and strutting into the ring in that doomed, too-big-not-to-fail American flag warm up jacket, he grabs me and holds my attention every bit as commandingly as he did the first moment I saw him.

Got your attention?
He does an awfully decent job of grabbing Skotch’s attention, as well.  Skotch is a seriously dangerous, highly accomplished pro wrestler, so Mitch should probably have been warned not to showboat too, too much, too, too early.  But all is forgiven (from me, anyway), at the sight of big, beautiful Mitch’s schoolboy pin, his package resting on Skotch’s chin, his sweaty, tanned, towering muscles flexing in a show of primal dominance.

The perfect position

I’m sure I’ve said it a thousand times, but it bears repeating again: this is a ride I’d wait in line for for days on end!  Mitch looks so fucking HUGE planted seductively across Skotch’s barrel chest.  Sadly, Skotch’s erotic tastes appear to diverge significantly from my own, because I’d be powerless to resist the temptation to stretch out my tongue and take this match to a whole different level.

Bullseyes!

However, the direction that Skotch does take this match in certainly doesn’t disappoint!  Mitch might as well have bullseyes tattooed to his pecs, because those thick slices of meat never fail to inspire an opponent to dig in his claws and try to rip Mr. Emeritus apart at the seams.  Skotch’s relish in this task, his roaring enthusiasm, makes the pathos spike.  Once (and future) mighty Mitch’s knees buckle.  His handsome face contorts in agony.  He sinks, his back hanging in the corner, as Skotch claws the giant down to size.  Mitch’s baritone groans make my crotch tingle.

Hunk humiliation
Mitch is one big, stunning, experienced hunk of wrestler, so this is very legitimately a ring war and not a hunkbash.  Mitch Colby on offense can be quite the juggernaut, and he makes the fireplug hurt.  A lot.  But what Skotch apparently lacks in a tongue offense, he makes up for in bringing the mighty giant low, applying liberal doses of withering trash talk, yanking those metallic trunks up Mitch’s crack, snarling contempt and rage and humiliation into Mitch’s body which visibly grows softer, more pliable, and less able to resist by the second.

Squeezing out that last ounce of dignity
I love a big, tanned, handsome, muscled babyface victory over the forces of evil every so often.  I know; this merits scorn and shame from a large portion of homoerotic wrestling fans, but I’ve faced worse.  Sprinkled throughout my fare, I love a handsome, dominant hero who is so technically proficient, so physically dominant, that he actually overcomes the treachery of a nasty heel and plants a boot in the loser’s ass for all that’s good and right.  Without that touch to spice things up, the rest of pro wrestling fare could grow bland.  This, however, is not that match (though Mitch has starred in his fair share of them).  No, this is a match spotlighting the brutal humiliation and spoiling of a handsome hero.  Skotch digs deep to pull out Mitch’s hope in humanity and fair play by the roots.  And the more Mitch suffers, the more his ass is on display, the more his sweat stains the mat as he’s dragged from corner to corner by the last shreds of his dignity, the more I’m firmly cemented as a Mitch Colby fan (sorry Cage!).
The ride of my life

Mitch battling back, firing off one last blast of offense, shocking the heel with a rally and a rib crushing standing bearhug does nothing but accentuate the classic scope of this story.  To be Skotch here, his crotch crushed against the mighty physique star lifting him off his feet, would truly be a fantasy.  Those long, heavily muscled arms stretched around the fireplug’s back crushing him against those formerly abused pecs, are the epitome of implicitly erotic homoerotic pro wrestling.  Mitch’s hot breath pumping against Skotch’s neck, his sweaty torso primed and slick, that painfully pretty, insanely wide lat spread making Mitch’s upper back look like he’s sprouting wings… gorgeous, homoerotic wrestling drama!

Conquered and powerless to resist

But Cage Thunder is, again, 100% correct in delivering the spoiler that “when the match ended, the big Bitch wasn’t smiling.”  His prominent, superhero chin makes me paint this image into Superman series 2 issue 75, the man of steel laid out, conquered, all those massive muscles slack and helpless, all that power evaporated.  Sure, I’ll lose control watching Mitch lay waste to some young upstart heel wannabe any day, but Mitch crushed and defeated and splayed out at my (um… Skotch’s) mercy is golden.  And I have to agree one last time with Cage Thunder: Skotch should’ve peeled off those trunks and shoved them in Mitch’s mouth.  Nice call, Cage.  Beautiful, beautiful work, Mitch.

Wall of Meat

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Jeremy “Stonewall” Stevens v Marcus “Titan” Ruhl
Having recently been wooed back to dishing out cash to watch pornboys wrestle for fuck stakes over at Naked Kombat, I’ve been wondering if I’d regret it.  Honestly, I think this is the fourth time I’ve started a new subscription with NK, after being tempted beyond my power to resist, and then losing interest from either uninspired action or, most recently, their drastic roll back of new releases.  For what is arguably the most spontaneous homoerotic wrestling format in production, NK has at times veered into surprisingly formulaic territory.  Even the pornboys can start to look alike and blur in my memory.  And then there’s this week’s new release: Marcus “Titan” Ruhl v Jeremy “Stonewall” Stevens.
Marcus “Titan” Ruhl – 5’11”, 200 pounds, first time on NK
It’s as if NK read my recent post on my on-again/off-again infatuation with twinks and dropped 5’11”, 200 lbs Marcus “Titan” Ruhl in my lap and dared me to try to even think about, much less lust over a twink.  Holy shit, this kid looks huge!  They claim he’s just 5 pounds heavier than pectacular Jeremy Stevens, but I tell you that’s bullshit.  Jeremy looks incredibly fuckable, as always, and I could get lost for days finding more crevices to grind on Mr. Stonewall.  But rookie Ruhl is nothing short of a sex gladiator muscle beast!
Marcus Ruhl looks like he’s trying to decide whether to jump Jeremy from behind in the middle of “Stonewall’s” pre-match testimonial.
In the pre-match interview, Jeremy tries to talk trash by referring to Ruhl as “just a wall of meat,” which sort of strikes me like saying his opponent is “just going to kick my ass.”  Typically, NK boys remain stonefaced in the background when their opponents are doing their pre-match testimonials, but Ruhl can’t keep a straight face.  Jeremy’s prediction of climbing that wall of meat and making him his bitch makes me snicker a little, too.  Has he even looked over his shoulder at the beast behind him!? Marcus’ rookie testimonial presents his sexy, deep-throated accent along with his contemptuous sneer as he (again, atypical of NK) looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes at the finger-food appetizer behind him trying to throw back his shoulders and not look like he’s already doing spinchter exercises in preparation for getting plowed.  “What do I think of my opponent?” Ruhl muses.  “I bench press more than him.  He’s going to get it.”

Marcus Ruhl starts to give it to instantly winded Jeremy Stevens.

In one of the worst first rounds I’ve seen, Jeremy not only doesn’t climb that wall of meat as predicted, he can’t even manage to earn more than 4 NK points.  Ruhl is just incredible to watch.  With each of his thighs about as thick as Jeremy’s waist, Marcus’ center of gravity is somewhere below his navel, which when you get a load of the insanely huge pecs and upper arms he’s sporting, should make you gasp.  He admitted in his testimonial that he has no formal combat experience, but he’s “been in a couple of street fights” (I pity the streets).  It shows, with some woodenness, lack of initiative, and bull-in-the-china shop approach to every hold and move.  But then again, when you’re a bull the size of Marcus Ruhl, a lack of finesse and technique can be forgiven.

Jeremy thinks he’s got the wall of meat pulled down, but Ruhl muscles back up again!

He’s all over Jeremy early going, and with that mass on top of him, Jeremy is worn out pushing the boulder uphill.  To start round 2, Jeremy tries to marshall the strategy he predicted would win him the match, swarming the wall of meat with speed, latching on legs and arms and dragging the massive man to the mat.  And then, as if to mock his opponent’s “wall of meat” comment, Ruhl muscles himself up to his knees, pauses, and then powers the rest of the way up to his feet with his 195 pound opponent still latched on.  Holy fuck, the power is mesmerizing, watching this happen not once, but twice, and perhaps Jeremy is mesmerized as well, because he loses further ground by the end of round 2, trailing the mighty beast 11 to 24.

Bulging muscles glisten in oil
As if to make certain I was paying attention, NK staged this match to climax (for me, anyway) with an all-nude oil wrestling round (I’m a proponent of more oil wrestling in today’s homoerotic wrestling scene).  Marcus’ already intoxicating body turns unbelievably even sexier with a liberal coat of baby oil making his bulges glisten under the overhead lights.  Again, I feel like I need to clarify that Jeremy is fucking stunning in oil as well.  But I have a hard time tearing my eyes away from the marinated wall of meat staring him down.

Jeremy Stevens runs headlong into a marinated wall of meat

Marcus Ruhl does not have a competition bodybuilder physique (and you know how hypnotizing I can find one of those in a wrestling match).  No, Ruhl’s incredible mass isn’t exactly pretty or aesthetically proportioned.  His dimpled ass jiggles a bit.  His head-to-toe meat is liberally marbled and succulent.  A big, bruiser football daddy like this does not always speak to me, but Marcus Ruhl’s baby oiled body is roaring out a scream that’s absolutely deafening.

Jeremy’s got the tiger by a mouthwateringly gorgeous tail!

All that mouthwatering mass Ruhl carries finally seems to slow him down, along with a difficulty keeping a handle on the slippery “little” fucker who seems to have an ever so slight edge in managing the lubricant.  The mighty man getting controlled, even briefly, including losing back points, getting wrapped up and made to struggle, is a little slice of heaven.

Grade “A” beef!
There’s a relentlessness about Ruhl that’s incredible to watch.  He promised to “steamroll” his “little” opponent, and there’s an inevitability about him when he works up even a moment of momentum.  Like trying to stop a landslide, Jeremy’s fucked long before round 4.  And there just isn’t an angle from which Ruhl’s oiled body fails to make me gasp.  His triceps require their own zip codes (each!).  His forearms could give Jonny Firestorm a run for his money (please).  And as incredible as is his upper body, it’s his ass and legs that are most astonishing for me.

Ruhl parks his truck on Jeremy’s chin
If he had just managed to snap those telephone poles around his opponent’s noggin, it would have been lights out for lovely Jeremy.  Really, scissoring those beasts around anything on his opponent would have surely ended in something broken or unconscious, leaving me screaming “headscissors!!!” at the screen throughout.  But no, not once does he seriously snap those soul-crushing thighs around anything.  Please, please someone pull this rook to the side and introduce him to the weapon of ass destruction that his body is! 
Cheek to cheek
Fortunately, Ruhl does plant those massive, motorboat-ready glutes down on Jeremy’s head, pinning the lucky bastard’s cheek to the mat and leaving him helpless to defend himself against Ruhl’s delight in squeezing and stroking Jeremy’s lovely cock.  Good god, talk about a rock and hard place!  This rook has serious potential that I’m praying to the gods of homoerotic wrestling will not be wasted on a one-hit wonder.  The meat dangling from his crotch is not one bit dwarfed by the wall of meat to which it’s attached, and the glimpses of snarky, sneering, I-will-plant-you-into-the-mat-like-a-walnut attitude convince me that this power hitter could strike terror into the hearts of young hopefuls in just about any homoerotic wrestling company that wooed him.

Superman in trouble?
And even then, when he’s technically in a bad way with Jeremy owning his back, threatening a quite literal rear naked choke, the concentrated power and poise in the dark haired gladiator is incredibly provocative.  If ever there was a body made for an erotic wrestling double-team, this has got to be it.  He’s got more than a little trouble staying focused with Jeremy’s mitt working the jackhammer, so just imagine the feast of putting another hungry grappler into the mix to scale the wall.  Both of these muscled studs can barely pry themselves off the mat in the waning seconds of the match, giving a very convincing look of hunks who’ve legitimately burned their tanks of gas.
Who’s meat now, bitch!?
Jeremy makes up major ground in round 3, but still is nowhere near digging himself out of the hole he earned in the first 2 rounds.  After time is called and they take neutral positions to await the announcement of the final score, Jeremy’s hot, rippled abs heave and puff like bellows.  The look of exhaustion, uncertainty, perhaps a touch of fear is impossible to miss on his face.  Ruhl just looks like he’s staring down a quarter-pounder after a 24-hour fast.  The official announces that Jeremy’s ass belongs to the Titan with a 32-27 victory.

The thrill of victory, the taste of defeat

Round 4 starts the way you expect if you’ve seen NK: a lingering, dominating blow job with the loser on his knees.  As for me, I tend to fast forward through this bit.  Watching a blow job is like indy car racing in my mind.  Yawns for 199 laps and then a shot of adrenaline when the white flag flies for the final lap.  Admittedly, rookie Ruhl keeps me entertained with some nasty face slapping across his conquest’s cheeks.  It starts a little playful, but damn, he really nails the blond bombshell a few times.  Both boys’ rods remain at full attention, so the corporal punishment laced oral is clearly turning all three of us on.

Full on muscle worship at Naked Kombat!

Making me think Ruhl may be a rookie-savant, he suddenly flings Jeremy’s face to the mat. “You know what?  Why don’t you get down there and worship this muscle-body, you loser!”  He slaps him in the face, adding, “like you mean it!”  Jeremy doesn’t actually have to be told twice.  Starting with Ruhl’s left foot, he licks and sucks slowly up that gargantuan leg.  And yet again, I wouldn’t have believed it, but I swear Ruhl’s body becomes several hundred times sexier with Jeremy’s obviously enthusiastic muscle worship session.  Inch by inch he climbs the wall of meat, his tongue flickering and stroking, tasting the incredibly sweet taste of defeat.  When he finally reached his vanquisher’s left nipple, Ruhl flexes his huge left bicep as Jeremy’s eyes are riveted by the sight.  Dropping his arm, still flexed, at his side, silently he commands his loser to worship it, and this time Jeremy doesn’t even have to be told once.  While the loser opens wide and bathes every inch of the upper arm with his tongue, Ruhl’s left hand slides across Jeremy’s muscled shoulders, squeezing and stroking appreciatively.  The mutual hunger at this point is simply a thing of beauty.

“I spent most of the time trying to get out from underneath the truck!”
Two big, aggressive muscleboys fucking works, of course.  When Ruhl forces Jeremy to climb on top of him and ride the beast, the blond bombshell can’t restrain himself.  He cums across that massive chest and sprays the winner in the face.  Marcus is none too flattered, flinging Jeremy off of him and returning the favor, with Jeremy obediently kneeling for the muscleman facial.  In the post-match testimonials, Ruhl claims that he’s never been muscle worshipped before, which is a crime against nature as far as I’m concerned.  “This is something I’m into now!” he says enthusiastically in answer to the question of whether he’d return for more matches at NK (I want a signed contract!).   Jeremy gets the last word about what it was like to battle the wall of meat.  “I spent most of the time trying to get out from underneath the truck!”  Most memorable moments from the mat, Jeremy?  “Both times I got behind him and he stood up!  That was pretty impressive!”
…to say the least…

A Contract Worth Signing [Guest Blogger: Alex]

wrestlebard2 Comments

 Like most people, I hate signing contracts. Whether it’s for cell phones, cable or the gym, companies love to lock us in then treat us like crap. BGEast is the exception, of course. They have a contract I was happy to sign. Not just once, but a whopping nine times.

For those that don’t know, The Contract is a fantastic series that stars Brad Rochelle, a true superstar. If there were a Hall of Fame for BGEast icons, he’d get in on the first ballot for sure. This is Brad at his best – believable as face and heel, victim and victor, dominator and jobber.

Brad gets duped

Brad gets punished
Brad’s had enough

Brad’s in charge

I love Brad’s nearly unmatched range in skill, attitude, flexibility and personality. He’s at his bendy best throughout. The beatdown from the Enforcer stands out for me, as does Brad’s initiations of studs like Alexi and Braden.

I love the long form storytelling aspect, which is so unique. Rock Hard Wrestling and Thunder’s Arena do have wrestlers reference past encounters, but it’s not quite the same feel.

I love the evolution of Brad’s character during the series from hapless victim to malevolent mastermind.

And I love Brad’s opponents. They include a who’s who of BGEast talent, from established stars to emerging talent to debuts by future favorites:

Kid Leopard

BBW

Aryx Quinn
Jonny Firestorm
The Enforcer
Cameron Matthews
Alexi Adamov
Braden Charron

Unless I missed one, the ending for The Contract is left to the viewer to imagine. Brad gets ratted out, as KL is told what’s going on, but his wrath is never seen.

I’d love to see more series like this. Given the way these things work, what any company should do is either complete the entire series in one filming or at least film a concluding chapter in case the rest never gets filmed. I think people would be forgiving of changing bodies and hair styles to get closure. We’re used to it.

What are your thoughts? Love or hate The Contract? Would you like to see more series? Weigh in through the comments!
~Alex

Filling Niches

wrestlebard9 Comments
I’m always fishing for opportunities to interview the movers and shakers in front of and behind the cameras of homoerotic wrestling.  A couple of days ago, I enjoyed an extended chat with someone moving and shaking both in front of and behind the camera, Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Muscle Master Kevin.  I found Kevin to be frank, insightful and exceedingly articulate, not to mention a relentless turn-on.  We tackled some of the stickiest of topics in homoerotic wrestling these days, and I’m quite confident that not everyone will agree (with Kevin or me).  However, I appreciate Kevin setting the record straight from the perspective of a bodybeautiful entrepreneur seizing a slice of the homoerotic wrestling market and delivering what his fans are, quite literally, begging for.  As you’ll read, I made my own suggestions of what fans might be craving, so I hope you’ll consider joining my campaign and email your support of my ideas to Kevin at konkara23@hotmail.com.  Kevin also wanted me to pass along that MDW is always looking for wrestlers ready to walk on the MDW side of things, so if you’re in MDW territory, and if you dare, let him know you’re game.
—————-
Today’s guest: Muscle Master Kevin, Boss, Sir… Kevin

Bard: I’m extremely grateful for this opportunity to sit down and chat with you about my favorite topic: hot, erotic wrestling! What should I call you? Muscle Master Kevin? Kevin? Boss? Sir?

Kevin: Hey Bard, I appreciate the chance to have this discussion. I certainly have accumulated quite the number of titles since joining the scene, but we can save those for the ring, Kevin works fine.

Bard: Excellent. Kevin it is. I’ve been tracking Muscle Domination Wrestling for a while now, excited to see what you new kids on the block will bring to the wrestling scene. When did you formally launch MDW and what inspired you to venture into the erotic wrestling scene?

The Boss of Muscle Domination Wrestling

Kevin: Muscle Domination Wrestling’s initial launch was around six months ago, though we have come a long way since then, both in terms of content and design, improving the layout drastically several times, the most recent coinciding with the launch of season 3. I always had the desire to launch a sub dom themed wrestling site, but it wasn’t until some of my friends who had gotten involved with the scene told me just how huge it was that I decided to take the plunge and invest in MDW to bring something unique to the table.

Bard: I, for one, want to thank your friends for planting that seed of an idea, then. What would you say is the that “something unique” that MDW brings to the table?

Kevin: MDW is unique in that it touches on every niche while also exploring new territory. Not only do we feature everything from traditional wrestling to hardcore sub dom themes that many have been aching for, but you’ll also find features such as our cinematic blood match “the boss sees red”, as well as supernatural scenes like the fan favorite vampire match between Damien Rush and myself. And this is only the tip of the iceberg!

Immortal Vampire Kevin controls Damien Rush in body and soul for MDW VIP members

Bard: I have to say that your vampire match with Damien is one of the most entertaining, captivating ring moments I’ve seen in a long time. It’s at least as much a piece of compelling performance art as it is seriously sexy wrestling. Before I ask you more about MDW, can you tell me more about your history prior to MDW? I’m sure I saw you on YouTube building a fan base before well before you launched your own site, right?

Kevin documented his bodybuilding progress on YouTube

Kevin: I entered the Youtube scene when I was 15 to document my bodybuilding progress under the name Chaoserver, though it was a year before I got involved with doing webcam shows. After around two years my dominant steak started to show and fans loved it, giving birth to Muscle Master Kevin. It didn’t take long for my attitude to establish me as the number 1 Muscle Master in the sub dom and MastER slave scene. In fact it could be said many viewed me as the Boss of the scene, making that the perfect title to add to my long list when I launched my personal site and MDW.

Happy belated birthday, Kevin.
So happy that you’re legal!

Bard: I hope you don’t mind me asking how old you are now, because you’ve got the body of a timeless god of Olympus but you’ve got that insanely gorgeous, dangerously youthful blue-eyed babyface. Please tell me that I’m not violating any state laws as my imagination wanders into lustful flights of fancy studying your rocking body.

Kevin: If that breached the law I’d know quite a few criminals! I’m freshly 22, my birthday was on the 6th.

Bard: Happy birthday! I shall unleash all of my lustful fantasies from any constraints of guilt or social propriety now. Please tell me that you did something insanely sexy on your birthday. Youth, that body, those eyes, that attitude… please, please tell me that did something worth making that a day to live in infamy!

Kevin: I certainly put this young body to use, but I’ll spare you the details, although I know there are some who would find details of my sex life fascinating!

Bard: Yes. Fascinating is one word for it. I’m glad to hear youth (and beauty) are not wasted on the young, in any case. Going back briefly to your YouTube days, I have a good friend and friend of this blog who recently told me that he remembers following you for a while on YouTube but getting turned off when he heard you throw down the word “fag” a lot. We’ve been having some lively conversations in the homoerotic wrestling blogosphere lately about the role of homophobic slurs in the genre. Is it true that you have (or still do) use the word “fag,” and if so, what’s your take on the backlash that some gay wrestling fans have to it?

Satisfying the niche

Kevin: I’m glad you asked, because I think this is an extremely important topic. Yes I’ve used the word, and still do in certain matches. However it is important to note this is done to satisfy the niche in the scene who crave this, or are at least curious, just as it was done in my Youtube days. The notion that I’m a gaybasher or advocate it couldn’t be more off when I’ve dedicated the last half year of my life to producing homoerotic content to satisfy them. I understand people can be sensitive, but it would be a tragedy for someone to overlook some of our great scenes because of words used in other matches directed at a niche they aren’t interested in.

Bard: I agree with you that this is an important topic, and one that can easily be oversimplified. Can you say more about the “niche” that crave watching you use words like fag? What are you hearing from fans from that niche, and in what context does it come up in your work?

Muscle Master Kevin aims to please hardcore subs.

Kevin: There are a group of people who like seeing content with the use of “fag” because they identify themselves as one, or at least do when they are viewing adult material. I’ve encountered people who find this appealing since I was 15, and the numbers have only grown since I’ve entered the wrestling scene. You’ll notice that I don’t say “Oh you’re gay, that makes you a fag” because the implication isn’t all gay people are fags, just the group who are hardcore subs and identify themselves as one’s are.

Bard: I’ve often suspected this may be the case, that the domination/submission kinksters out there may experience this language very differently from those of us more in the wrestling kink side of things. Your term “niche” here makes a lot of sense to me. I think the friction arises where people have a strong visceral reaction to words like “fag,” and those reactions seriously diverge. As for me, I find it a major turn off to hear “fag.” It carries weight that seems to imply that to be gay is shameful. But I can imagine that there are people whose erotic tastes fill that word with different baggage, for whom it feeds there erotic desire to be dominated, controlled, and humiliated. The same trigger that makes me go limp and irked may very well be exactly the same trigger that makes someone else hard as a board and fully engaged in their sexual fantasy. It makes me wonder if we’re talking about different niches within the same market, or if these are essentially different erotic genres. Woah, that just got deep, didn’t it?

Kevin: The reason I use niche is because even if the vocal triggers, and to the extent the moves used vary from these two types of matches are different, it is still gay oriented wrestling. You could separate them, and I’ve toyed with the idea of having two sections of my site, but then it gets tricky. For example some people love the “sir yes sir” type scenes, but not the “fag” ones, while others aren’t a fan of either and would rather it be kept to making the jobber yell “submit”. Even though it’s usually clear what matches will feature this kind of language I think the best solution is just making it as clear on the surface what someone can expect from a match- Perhaps a “hardcore” label indicating that it has “fags” being dished out, or otherwise extreme sub dom material. MDW is constantly evolving and that seems like it might be the next logical step.

Bard: I like that possibility a lot, being highly descriptive and having some sort of label. I remember an old index of gay wrestling products someone compiled that had different symbols for different types of content (mostly whether and what type of sex was included). That might be a cool format for a site like MDW that really straddles the primarily first-person-shooter sub-dom audience and the homoerotic wrestling audience. I actually think it’s cool that you’re taking your audience so seriously as to try to provide the content that folks are asking for. And I don’t think it’s your responsibility to be the kink-police for the people who seriously love your work. I do worry about the guys out there who can’t get off without being called a fag, because I’m tempted to pathologize them as internalized homphobes. But just because it turns me off doesn’t mean I understand why it turns someone else on, so I’m just hoping that that part of your audience really owns and is empowered by the irony of paying for (and thus “controlling”) a hot-bodied hunk to talk dirty and portray a dominator in that very mutually collaborative way that sub-dom fetish folks build the fantasies that work for them. For one of my readers whose totally into that sub-dom call-me-whore-call-me-fag fetish, what’s an MDW video they should definitely check out?

Kevin: I’m glad you agree the direction we’re heading in terms of labeling is a good one. And yes- our customers completely inform what we produce. Every week I am looking at what matches are hot and basing what we produce off that. The go to hardcore sub dom scenarios are my “cash rape” scenes in season 1/2, though the second one is certainly the more hardcore. My most hardcore, and probably territory I wont explore again is “Eternal Enslavement Imposed”(It unsettled the jobber genuinely, so that says something).

Bard: Good to know! Now on the wrestling side of things, I’d like to say that I’m a big, big fan of the wrestling ring that you introduced in season 2. I felt like that investment really raised MDW’s credibility and polish, and that’s not just because I’ve got a well-known bias for a pro wrestling ring. What would be your top picks for the homoerotic wrestling fanatic to get a good sense of what MDW brings to the scene? We’ve mentioned your vampire match with Damien, which rocked me hard. What’s a good sampling of MDW-style wrestling?

Kevin: I couldn’t agree more, and am glad we got it when we did, the product is much improved by its addition- We’ve had some fantastic matches in the new ring, for sure. Damien Rushes punishment series (Piledriver, and Power Move) is fantastic, with the latter being one of our hottest matches. Morgan Cruise and his match against the Hairy Russian Wrestler in Raw Sweaty Wrestling is a pro style match, featuring some of our best wrestling story telling. And for those looking for something extra hot, Ball Bash Jerk Off edition is as good as it gets, with the organic arousal resulting in an unexpected finish!

Damien Rush digs into his heel side as he delivers Power Move Punishment all over The Justin.

Bard: I haven’t seen them yet, but the teaser of Damien turning heel at MDW is enough to make me swoon. Tell that silver-spooned punk to give me the interview I’ve been begging him for for months! Are there any other examples of new products that you’re flying that came directly from fan feedback?

Kevin: It’s interesting you ask, because Damien Rush turning Heel, as well as the second installment of his punishment series was a direct result of fans wanting to see him dominate, and then loving the way he did it. Likewise my “Cash Rape” sequel was born from fans craving more, wanting it to be even more intense. The same can be said for the Ball Bash series, which we cant make enough of, as much as people love them! Lastly Bryce’s growing following promoted him to heel status, and he’s resolved to hone his technique to an art form in seasons to come!

Bard: Awesome. By any chance, has there been a big fan demand to see a homoerotic wrestling blogger suck your nipples raw while squeezing your peaked biceps?

Kevin: Theres always been a demand for worshipping these perfect nips and veiny bis. After all my slogan is that in time all will serve me. If a certain blogger found himself in the MDW ring, The Boss would find some way to make you do just that, though there might be more pain than pleasure.

“…these perfect nips and veiny bis.”


Bard: Holy fuck, I just shed a little tear right then! Don’t be surprised if you start getting a deluge of appeals for this scenario, because I’m starting a campaign posthaste to make that happen! Where is MDW headquartered, so I know where to show up?

Kevin: The domination happens in the Boston area- So any wrestlers who think they have what it takes to compete in the MDW ring can contact the Boss, and head on in to show what they’ve got!

Bard: Boston! Damn, what do they put in the water up there to turn out such an incredible depth of homoerotic wrestling!? So I’m a little verklempt with the vision of your “perfect nips and veiny bis” dancing in my head. Give me some more details about your insane proportions and assets.

Genetic gifts and hot, hard work.


Kevin: The nips were a genetic gift, but the thick, striated, and often hairy chest I’ll accredit to lots of hours in the gym. I’ve always strived for a nice V shape, a powerful torso cascading down into a thin waist. Muscle worshippers wont miss my shredded tris, or built back either, especially when they’re being used to make someone submit!

Bard: Excuse me while I dab some sweat from my brow…. okay, got it. Tell me some numbers. I’m a numbers nerd, so how tall are you? How thick are those biceps? How ridiculously narrow is that waist? When you’re sitting on my (um, I mean an opponent’s) chest, what kind of weight is bearing down on my (um, your opponent’s) ribs?

180 lbs., 5’10’, 29 inch waist, 17.5″ upper arms.

Kevin: 180 pounds of a 5 foot 10 stud would be bearing down on that jobber, and if they tried to push me off they’d be pushing against abs on a 29 inch waist until I decided to finish them with an RNC, using my 17.5 inch bis to finish them off when I’d heard enough cries of submission.

Bard: Fuck, yes, I love numbers! That image will be keeping me up late tonight, I guarantee. And those eyes of yours… surely those icy baby-blues are photoshopped in these truly stunning photos you sent me to help illustrate this interview. Thanks for these, by the way, but tell me if your eyes are seriously that blue.

Impossibly blue eyes.

Kevin: You’ll just have to watch some of my wrestling clips now wont you? I may be the Boss but I haven’t quite managed the art of photoshopping videos. I’m sure they are compelling you now to go check out some of my matches!

Bard: You’ve pretty much guaranteed that I’m checking out more of your matches now. I get the strong impression that you are far from just a pretty face and granite carved body of steel. What are some facts about you that MMK and MDW fans may not know? What are you passionate about apart from catering to the lusts and cravings of your fans?

Kevin: Probably the most surprising is that one of my primary hobbies is writing. I’m a man who needs a creative outlet, so when if theres not a story to tell in the ring you can bet I’m crafting one elsewhere. One day I suspect you’ll find something from the Master at your local Barnes and Nobles! In the meantime you can expect that creative passion to result in some matches unlike anything else out there.

Bard: I must say I expected there might be a literary side to Muscle Master Kevin. I want a signed copy when your first novel gets published. So I notice that you didn’t respond to my plea to get Damien Rush on the line, so short of that, tell me what’s going through your mind when you’re on top of him (as you have been many, many times), controlling his hot bod, squeezing out another ounce of agony, seeing the hint of panic rising in his eyes…. What does that moment do for you, to own another man like that with the cameras rolling and nearly every inch of your hard-earned body on display for hungry eyes?

Kevin: I’ve been dominating men since I was 16 in one way or another, so its felt natural to me, when dominating him, or anyone and everyone who steps into my ring. Just like it feels natural to make them submit while taping the spectacle for all to see. I’ll have to set you up with an interview with him or Tony Law Pendelton, both of whom have been on the receiving end of that control and domination.

Damien Rush camel clutches Tony Law in MDW Season 2: Ball Spank Abuse

Bard: Dominating looks like it comes naturally to you. thanks for passing along my interest in getting Damien and Tony on the line. I’d love to get some one on one time with either of them. You’ve been charming, provocative, titillating and inspiring, Kevin! Anything else you’d like fans to know before I let you go?

Kevin: I’d like to urge anyone who hasn’t checked us out in awhile to come see all the hot content, and that we are only going to be raising the bar with hardcore sweaty Muscle Domination Wrestling. I’m glad we linked up for this interview, and am sure it wont be the last.

Bard: I look forward to the next time! And when the fans demand that session with a blogger, you know how to reach me.

Muscle Master Kevin suited up to greet a certain blogger in his ring.

Who’s Counting?

wrestlebard5 Comments
Neverland turns 4 years old today!  In some ways, it feels like 40 years, in other ways, it feels like 4 months.  The scope of what I do online in response to my infatuation with homoerotic wrestling has grown significantly since I posted my first post 4 years ago today.  Writing homoerotic wrestling fiction was, honestly, the first focus I brought, with neverland being primarily a vehicle for dissemination my interest in sharing fiction.  Since then, however, the fiction has taken a back seat to the blogging and promoting the outstanding ongoing scene of homoerotic wrestling productions and musing about my homoerotic wrestling fantasies that may, or may not, show up in a full-on piece of fiction.  In the last few months, I’ve been grieving that switch in priorities a bit.  If only I had more time for my writing, I’ve continually told myself. My goal of writing at least one new match a month has long ago been abandoned.  Happily, others with the writing bug have been contributing to the expanding library of homoerotic wrestling imaginations come to life in text (and choice graphic aids).  I think, with the maturity of 4 years under my belt, I’m coming to terms with the truth that blogging is feeding my kink and interest more than writing wrestling fiction.  I have a couple of fiction projects I’m very, very, very excited to be rolling out in the next couple of weeks, but otherwise, I think the 4th anniversary of neverland will mark a down shift in my intentions to write, to match the de facto truth that my attentions have strayed a bit from my fiction writing already.  So at the ripe old age of 4, I’m signaling my letting go of my grief over less fiction writing and my enthusiastic embrace of more time in neverland.
I’m playing Powerball in order to fuel my calling as an Eliad Cohen stalker!
And finally, as a birthday present to myself, I’m celebrating today with a focus on who, I think, may be the sexiest man who I’ve never seen in a homoerotic wrestling match: Eliad Cohen.  If I were a better (and especially richer) man, I’d be a full-on celebrity stalker of Eliad.  Sadly, his jet-setting schedule hosting Papa circuit parties across the globe far exceed my means to obsessively track him down.  On the other hand, fortunately, he is a generous Facebook poster, and my inner stalker is regularly sated with mouthwatering photos of this epic hunk going about his days, loving his family and friends, seeing the sights of the cities of the world, and, oh yeah, taking off his shirt… a lot.  Seriously, I think this man is as close to my physical ideal as any hunk I’ve ever seen.  If I had a category for my favorite non-wrestling hunk (don’t tempt me, you know how I like my lists), I believe it would be a close contest between Joe Manganiello and Eliad, with Eliad’s hairy chest and tats managing to just nose Joe into my “top contender” spot.  I’d donate a vital organ if it meant I could see Eliad climb into the BG East ring and put those insanely sexy muscles to the purpose they were, quite clearly, most naturally and meaningfully intended: wrestling another hardbodied hunk until one of them is stripped naked and worshipping the victor’s divine physique.
Quite possibly my physical ideal!
As an anniversary present for neverland (not really, but I can pretend), Eliad has posted this crotch-rousing tease of a video promoting (I think) another one of his Papa parties.  This is as close as I think I’ve ever seen what it would be like to watch him in a homoerotic wrestling match.  The performance piece features him and another muscleboy in gladiator gear… sort of… engaged in fantasy hand-to-hand combat… kind of.  There’s a poundingly hot gut punching montage in the credits, so be patient. Inexplicably in the heart of the video (full embed below), they abruptly rip off their utilikilts, and then Eliad demonstrates his status as a muscle god by blowing the head off of his opponent with a magic ball of fire.  Watch to the end, though, and you’ll see the gymbunny stud is quite fully alive and returns to Eliad’s side to begin to stroke his buliging, vascular muscles hungrily.  In other words, this is essentially a performance art version of pretty much 80% of homoerotic wrestling matches (hunks grapple, strip, total domination secured, and then erotic lust takes over).
Eliad’s dominance demonstrated, his muscle conquest returns to worship him (line starts behind me, bastard!)
To all of you who’ve made neverland a going concern, commenting, encouraging, challenging, linking, giving permissions for reposts, guest posting, and just being all around cool fellow journeyers in the wrestling kink universe, this anniversary is as much a celebration of you as it is an acknoweldgment of the passage of time or the accumulation of blog archives.  It continues to be a joy, and that (and, really, that alone) is what makes me fully expect to be celebrating year 5 exactly 12 months from now.