Re-Writing My Fantasies

Do you read the comments to this blog? You should. Sometimes the hottest, most interesting stuff happens there! For example, when I recently waxed poetic again about the allure of Steel Muscle God in wrestling action, Darius of BG East fame commented that he and SMG are trying to arrange a rendezvous to compare scissor holds!  Sweet!!!

Darius has plans for the Steel Muscle God

Compelled by this tidbit, I repeated the rumor in a subsequent post last Friday. I also described a personal fantasy that this inspired, in which SMG has Darius in a schoolboy pin, stroking his gorgeous cock hovering over Darius’ face while Darius grabs a couple of luscious handfuls of SMG’s beautiful pecs. Again, Darius responded, assuring me of the real possibility that he might very well be the hunk on top of that schoolboy pin rather than the other way around.  In that case, Darius promised he’d be the one stroking his “massive rod.” To drive home the point that his cock easily merits the starring role in my homoerotic wrestling fantasies, he sent me some pics (with permission to post) to hint at what things would look like with SMG flat on his back, palming Darius’ mountainous pecs, with Darius’ rod pumped hard and exploding in victorious ecstasy!

Darius might require an extra pair of hands to tame that python! Yes, I’m volunteering.

YOWZA! Does that require a concealed weapon permit, because Darius is packing major league heat!?

Is this the view SMG would see staring up at a victorious Darius?

If SMG finds himself conquered and staring up at that beast, even the godly one will have to admit that’s nothing short of divine! Someone has got to capture that moment on a digital recorder, package it up, empty my wallet, and send it to me pronto, regardless of which of these fantasymen ends up flat on his back. It’s a win-win-win as far as I’m concerned!

Reach up and feel the power of those pecs flexing in the palms of your hands!

I’m delighted, humbled, and titillated that Darius reads and comments on neverland. Adding fuel to the fire of my insatiable homoerotic wrestling imagination does nothing but skyrocket this fantastic muscle warrior up the line-up of wrestlers who I want to see showing up in my mailbox and who will most definitely be appearing in a wrestling fantasy in my mind soon and often!

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Thunderstruck

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crisis of Faith

Steel Muscle God breaks his opponent soon.
“Come on, guy. Let’s see if you can break me soon. Try to snap me!” The English is just a little dodgy, but Steel Muscle God’s opponent manages to communicate loud and clear. To start chapter 4 of his backbreaker series with SMG, the smart-assed skinny guy slaps down an indefensible challenge. This is Steel Muscle God, buddy! You’re a mere mortal. Of course he’s going to snap you… soon!  

SMG’s spine snapping torture rack makes his opponent’s toes curl
SMG looks incredible, of course.  The backbreaker series demonstrates some of the sexiest aspects of homoerotic wrestling. SMG’s gorgeous physique flexes powerfully, stretches beautifully, bulges perfectly. The body, the voice, the supremely confident, domineering, humiliating domination… I continue to maintain that SMG has an intimate and intuitive understanding of homoerotic wrestling kink.  This 4th chapter of back abuse on skinny loudmouth punk means that members on SMG’s site can see 75 minutes of delightful Steel Muscle God domination dished out all over this guy’s lucky body.  And as I’ve mentioned before, his skinny opponent has a surprising certain something about him as well. I’ve already noted that his taunting, kamikaze verbal challenges both make me laugh and turn me on in anticipation of what SMG will have to do to mete out divine retribution. Watching more of this “match” (aka, mauling), I also noticed that the skinny lamb-to-slaughter also has a delightful way of flexing and curling his toes just when SMG is pouring on the back torture the hardest. Wrapped around that divine neck, he hangs limp and helpless. But when SMG pulls hard on his leg and throat, bending him around his neck in a way that a human body just wasn’t meant to bend, the skinny punk’s toes start squirming, poignantly punctuating his helpless agony. The boy is hurting, and even his toes can’t hide it!
Just try to take your eyes off of those divine thighs!

SMG repeatedly points out to the outmatched punk in chapter 4 the magnificent muscles that made this match a mission impossible for the mere mortal from minute one. He points at the flexing, bulging head on his left quad, demanding that his audacious opponent look, marvel, contemplate the perfection in front of him.

You can look, but don’t touch without divine permission!

As if he can’t restrain himself (I’m with you there, buddy!), the mere mortal reaches out, slack jawed, to stroke the divine, flexing beef in front of him. Over and over, SMG slaps his hand away in disgust. You don’t just reach out and grab divine muscles like this. You have to be found worthy to worship that body. Speaking of, I think it’s about time somebody was found worthy!  If there was someone destined to star in a Wrestle Worship match, it’s Steel Muscle God. I can think of a few opponents that I’d like to see him face in a wrestling match with body worship stakes. I’m first in line. My second choice?

Darius is eager to feel the steel!

Darius commented on my last post about SMG, breaking the news that he’s been in contact with SMG and they’re trying to work out the details for the two of them to meet for a match when SMG visits the US this summer.  This strikes me as a potentially epic pairing of two of the sexiest wrestling musclebodies to be found! Just thinking about them trading rib crushing bear hugs and crotch-to-face head scissors makes me pop! If they sell tickets, I’d like to buy three, because I’m going to have to spread out, and this is going to get really, really messy.

Steel Muscle God swings a lead pipe

In my interview with SMG this spring, he declared his commitment and delight to please his fans. Whether it’s rounding up a friend and convincing him to get crushed, twisted, and humiliated on camera, or if it’s working his divine steel muscle rod into a raging sledge hammer, he’s not about to shrink from doing what it takes to satisfy his worshipful fans.

Time to see ALL of these steel muscles in wrestling action!

This fan, for one, is aching to see SMG go toe-to-toe and cock-to-cock with a homoerotic wrestling hunk like handsome muscleman Darius!  I’ve watched Darius in action, and I wouldn’t dare to presume who would wring out the first or the final grunting, humbling submission. But I can’t help myself but picture post-match extra curriculars that include SMG schoolboy pinning Darius’ mountainous deltoids, grabbing his steel muscle rod in both hands, and cranking out a beautiful shower of ecstasy while Darius strokes SMG’s luscious pecs and pinches his nipples. This is my hope and prayer. Now I will sit back and wait to see if there is a god.

Hurricane Morgan

Morgan Cruise – 5’8″, 170 pounds – eyes on the prize
Morgan Cruise hit the ground running when he first arrived at BG East. Unfortunately for Morgan, he ran straight into a wall of competition grade granite by the name of one of my long time favorites, Lon Dumont.  One the one hand, Morgan is never subtle. Reports are that he showed up at BGE with his gaze fixed on becoming one of the greatest heels of all time.  The Boss put him in the ring with Lon Dumont who looks as though he’s a beautiful, bronze, shaved lightweight gym bunny ripe for a rising heel picking. Morgan quickly discovered in Rookie Wreckers that looks can be deceiving. Lon spent more than a decade in professional wrestling rings in independent productions, typically being a notorious badass and all around champion heel. With infinite (and incredibly sexy) patience, Lon taught Morgan just a taste of all he had yet to learn if he were ever to realize his dream of competing as a legitimate heel.
I’d give my firstborn to trade place with Morgan right here!

Regular readers will be unsurprised when I say that as delightfully as Morgan suffered, I had a majorly tough time ripping my eyes off of g-g-gorgeous Lon! Good god that man grabs me like few others! I do remember that Morgan sweat like a dirty pig (hot, hot, hot!) and showed some sweet, lustful delight in putting in a respectable power offense for just a bit of the bout. Sure, I could picture this hot, hairy kid growing up and becoming a sexy heel someday. But I get the impression that “someday” is not in the Mastodon’s vocabulary. And I had no idea that the boy with an 80’s mainstream pro wrestling muscle body was also an extremely quick study.

Morgan’s passed his heel-in-training qualifying exam all over Eli Black’s bashed body

By the time he climbed back in the ring with 2-time homoerotic wrestler of the month, ripped gladiator Eli Black for Gut Bash 9, Morgan had not only learned his lessons, he’d mastered them, improvised on them, and showed true genius in both beating Eli to a pulp and showing off Eli’s phenomenal physique like a savant!  Against Eli, Morgan was dominant, brutal, and provocatively sexy as hell!

Morgan is THRILLED to deliver naked backbreaking bashing all over Demian Rush!

So I altered my picture of how Morgan might fit in the homoerotic wrestling universe. Clearly, we wouldn’t have to wait around for him to grow into a sexy heel.  He’s still so young, but fuck all if there’s not an old, vicious, soul-crushing heel living in that beast of a body!  So I figured we’d see Morgan hit the muscle taming circuit for a while, perfecting his craft, playing up the eroticism of trunks-on wrestling for gay eyes. But for his next appearance, he climbed into the ring with trust-fund baby muscleboy Damien Rush (upon whom I had an instant, blinding crush), and proceeded to strip the gorgeous rookie naked and deliver a muscle pounding in the buff.

Flexing naked over his crushed opponent, Morgan is THE MAN!
Good god, man! Strip Stakes 3 transported me back over a decade, reminding me of the thrill of watching the likes of the Brooklyn Bodywrecker toy with, delight in, and ultimately get off all over another frat boy. I’m not exaggerating here. Morgan pulled out nearly all the stops and I swear, as far as I’m concerned, he joined the ranks of the seriously hot heels.  Sweating every bit as much as before, totally naked and furry all over, Morgan is about 10 times more handsome and 100 times more worship worthy once the gear is off and he sticks around to deliver extra credit punishing humiliation.

Morgan stretches Diego Diaz long, long body to it’s gorgeous limits

So it makes complete sense that he skyrocketed to his own Wrestler Spotlight last month after only 3 matches to his name. Morgan’s Spotlight is one erotic epiphany after another. He starts off manhandling the long, tall drink of water Diego Diaz who has an eye on Morgan’s championship belt. What’s he champion of? Who the fuck cares?! Diego wants to see that belt buckled around his own six-pack beauty. I LOVE the look of Diego. I love his insanely long limbs, sculpted torso, handsome face, bushy hair and sexy, deep, accented voice. When he delivers some early punishment and a first shocking submission on Morgan to grab the belt and admire himself with it in the mirror, I admit I found the drama extremely compelling. I hope for big, big things from that big, big sexy man. But seeing Morgan hammer, slam, and beat the living shit of him all over and outside the ring is a thing of profound beauty. He stretches every incredibly long inch of Diego and then serves him up for us like a mouthwatering turkey dinner. Awesome. Simply awesome.

No shit! Pec claw push-ups on rookie muscle farmboy, Tony Law.

I have no idea where Tony Law has been hiding, but I’m extremely pleased that he’s shown his big, beefy, farm boy body in the BG East ring, and even happier that he debuted his luscious muscles and rocking ass against the rolling stone of Morgan Cruise! I’ve since learned that this is not the first time Morgan and Tony have wrestled (more on that later), which may explain that frightening lack of all humanity in Morgan’s absolute destruction, obliteration even, of the blond babyface with tree trunk thighs. For Tony’s sake, I hope he knew just how vicious the Mastodon could be, because this is a marathon shit kicking session!

Morgan looks ready to orgasm, riding muscle hunk Chace like a broken bronco
And speaking of marathons, in the finale to Morgan’s Wrestler Spotlight, he and Chace LaChance version 2.0 go at it so long you’d better pack a lunch and plenty of fluids! I still think Chace needs to face Lon Dumont in the ring, because it’s my armchair opinion that the tweezed pretty boy cost the two of them a humiliating tag team defeat in Tag Team Torture 12. Perhaps Chace’s newfound prime beef is in anticipation of his date with destiny in facing bodybuilding champion Lon (I can hope!). In the mean time, Chace pulls of some impressive offense against the rising tide of Morgan’s heel aspirations. But at this point, Morgan is just unstoppable. He’s also incredibly entertaining to watch along his journey to cement himself as not only on the list of sexy heels, but climbing those rankings. When he’s got that lustful, dreamy look in his eyes, clearly huffing on the scent of humiliation dripping off of a withering opponent, he’s a true wonder!  Any bitches even dare to suggest that he needs to shave or manscape more aggressively just sit right back down. Morgan is transported directly off of nationally televised professional wrestling badassness from exactly 27 years ago today, and hairy legs, pecs, pits, and pubes are 100% Morgan Cruise sexy heel fantastic!

Master Kevin and Morgan flex off

Others already knew Morgan from before he knocked on the door in Pembroke, from his self-promotion campaign as a teen bodybuilder to be worshipped on YouTube. I’ve since also discovered that his frequent competition for teen muscle worship fanatics, Chaoserver aka Master Kevin has since teamed up with Morgan (and Damien Rush and Tony Law!) to produce some sexy west coast independent wrestling of their own. More to come on this front soon, but I get the impression that perhaps the Mastodon may need a new nickname. Something like Hurricane Morgan. Because he’s nothing short of a terrifying, unstoppable force of nature these days!

Built for bare-assed muscle destruction.

Motel Mayhem – Fictional Version

Earlier today, I posted a new “American Wrestling League” chapter by Alex over at Sidelineland. In Motel Mayhem, we follow the backroads adventures of Jake Justice, a young up and coming legacy in the pro wrestling business in the early 80’s. He’s paying his dues despite his status as a legacy, hitting some small town shows and staying in dives along the way.

Headliner Jake has a little secret he keeps from the public…

Of course, small town dives don’t like to think of themselves as dives. Running down the 11 room roadside operation in bumfuck nowhere earns Jake no love from the major side of beef behind the counter. Egos, big muscles, full-on lust. Boys will be boys, and somebody deserves a nasty fucking!

Waiting for Jake behind the desk at the local motel

Enjoy Alex’ story with your membership to Sidelineland, and let Alex know what you think. Motel Mayhem has sent my mind spinning into questions about the eroticism of both brutality and tenderness in homoerotic wrestling. A story with all lust and tenderness, and you basically just have a gay romance novel, which isn’t, by itself, on my list of turn ons. Then again, all brutality can drift far too quickly into rape scenarios or, far too often, homophobic violence that similarly leaves me uncomfortable, sometimes disgusted, and usually quite flaccid. But the alchemy of the two elements woven together is a potentially intoxicating mix for me, and different quantities and types of each ingredient can stroke my kink in delightfully entertaining ways. Alex has a spicy hot recipe going with Motel Mayhem, and I’ll be interested to hear what other readers think.

Lover? Fighter? Where to draw the line?

Send your original contributions of homoerotic wrestling fiction to me to share at Sidelineland, and let the rest of us get off on that hot little homoerotic wrestling imagination you’ve got!

True Beef

True Blood. If you watch it and read this blog, that’s pretty much all I have to say to instantly arouse you, isn’t it? After four and a half seasons of beefier and more beautiful, frequently naked, stunningly gorgeous men, and I’m like Pavlov’s dog. Just the initials TB make me salivate.

Joe Manganiello is sculpture!

Season 5 is working me harder than ever, with the undisputed leader of the pack of muscle hunks being big, and I mean BIG Joe Manganiello. The last couple of episodes have finally featured him shirtless and hinting at the thought of him dropping trou. Even in shadows and half-clothed, the sight of this man makes me swoon like an antebellum Southern Belle.

Joe just has to reach for hit pants and I break out into a sweat!

Big, BIG Joe’s superhuman physique has inspired two appearances in my homoerotic wrestling fiction. He crushed two opponents at once in a 3-way barnburner to start, coming out on top of werewolf also-rans Taylor Lautner and Russell Tovey, and walking away with the undisputed title of Top Dog as well as tasty morsel Russell slung over his gargantuan shoulder. He went down in a shower of shame as tag team partners with fellow TB alum, Mehcad Brooks, unable to handle the offense of Gerard Butler and Henry Cavill (with outside assistance from Sean Maguire). Joe inspires about a dozen different homoerotic wrestling fantasies in me every day, so count on seeing him again, and again, and again…

Alexander has Joe under his control. Now there’s a fantasy!

I’m going to discuss the current season now, so if you’re going to go into a tizzy because I might spoil it for you, stop reading. Enough said. You’re big boys, so let me just say that seeing Alexander Skarsgård’s character “glamour” big, hunky, shirtless Joe in this week’s episode set off all sorts of explosions in my mind (and pants). Alexander has appeared in a couple of homoerotic wrestling matches in Producer’s Ring as well, but unlike Joe, Alex has climbed his way to the top both times. If I had to guess, I’d say that these two will show up in the ring together before too long, either in opposite corners or as another tag team. I don’t know which, yet.

Ryan Kwanten looks ready to rumble.
I know I’m not alone in picturing Ryan Kwanten as a homoerotic wrestling god either. Just check Sunday’s interview with homoerotic wrestler of the month, Cage Thunder, in which he names Ryan as the one piece of meat he’d put at the front of the line to get the full Cage Thunder ring welcome!
Even Ryan can’t keep his hands off his hot, naked ass!

I’ve pictured Ryan’s sweet ass in private matches three times in my homoerotic wrestling fiction. The first time, he couldn’t control his cock when faced with the mouthwatering muscle of Jamie Bamber (and really, who could blame him?). His second match saw him fare little better, getting jacked off into a damp pool of loser-hood by the powerful thighs of Shemar Moore. But although it may take him a little while, Ryan learns his lesson and takes down a big boy when he faces Justin Bruening.

Christopher Meloni is a beast in my homoerotic wrestling imagination!
But if there’s been a sexy hunk of beef who’s haunted my homoerotic wrestling fiction more than any other, it has to be season 5 TB newbie, Christopher Meloni. Sweet god almighty, they simply had to have sewn him into the blue polo shirt he wore in this past episode. His bulging shoulders and back look like their about to split the fabric every time he moves. In TB, he’s a sadistic, power-hungry, psychologically domineering and physically dominating force of nature. In other words, he’s exactly like I picture him in the ring!
I’ve got plans for those luscious pecs!
And here’s another spoiler. His abrupt exit from the show made me throw stuff at my television. Getting staked by an ugly, skinny super villain transported me back to watching pro wrestling as a kid. I used to get so turned on by the physically dominant, gorgeous muscle boys in the ring, and then find myself provoked nearly to tears to watch the clearly physically inferior heel lie, cheat, and steal his way to crushing my muscleman hero. Classic. And as bitter as I feel about seeing big Christopher shrivel up into a pile of ashes, there’s something beautiful and nostalgic about being taken back to that place right at the root of my homoerotic wrestling kink.  Happily, Christopher lives on in my homoerotic wrestling fiction, due to make a record setting 5th appearance in the Producer’s Ring, flexing those guns and bringing the pretty boys to their knees. Damn, TB works me so hard!

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month Interview

Cage Thunder had a quick reply to my announcement that he’s one of the co-owners of my title of homoerotic wrestler of the month: “About fucking time!”  Building from that endearing exchange, I managed to get the legendary heel to agree to answer some questions on the occasion of his reign.

———
Cage Thunder
Bard: Congratulations on earning the homoerotic wrestler of the month title! Masked Mayhem 9 is incredibly sexy! What was it like for you teaming with Lightning Rod for your 2-on-1 destruction of that hunky little Stinger?
Chemistry!

Cage Thunder: It’s about fucking time. What’s wrong with you, anyway? You’ve figured out who my tag partner was—so you can imagine what an honor it was to be teamed with one of my wrestling idols—I can be just as big of a fan-boy as anyone! (laughs) And we definitely had chemistry in the ring…as you can tell from the video and from the stills, my dick was hard from the get go. I hope we can team up again… I’m certainly up for it, although I’m so attracted to him it’s hard for me to focus!

Bard: Consider the delay in your ascendency to the title as evidence of my lapse of judgment! So, categories often fail to fully capture the scope and depth of an artist’s work, so when I call you a “heel,” it feels awfully inadequate. How do you describe your body of work as a wrestler?

Cage Thunder: Sexual heeling (laughing)? I kind of like “lord of the ring” or “ringmaster.” 


Bard: (laughing) All three of those work for me!  Speaking of bodies, you always look incredible! You’ve clearly crafted a body built for destruction. For any aspiring masked heels out there, do you have any tips for physical conditioning for ring domination?

Adding up to HOT!

Cage Thunder: I do, don’t I?  I put a lot of work into my body. But fitness is more than weight-lifting, which so many people forget. It’s also flexibility and endurance. I fucking hate doing cardio, but it’s a necessary evil. I’ve always been really flexible, so stretching is something I do pretty regularly.  I have to give some credit to my genetics. I put on size really easily, and I also have a huge rib cage with a narrow pelvic bone, which results in me having a ridiculously small waist. Even at my heaviest and most out of shape, my waist size has never gone above 32-33; at my most lean I was a 28. I think I look best when I’m at a 31, frankly—smaller is too lean.  I’ve wanted to get up to 200 pounds for quite some time, but was reluctant to gain weight for a very long time. Thank to some injuries and teaching myself how to cook Louisiana cuisine, I did get really heavy for a while, but am leaning down now. My muscles are a lot bigger—and my goal is to get down to about 200-205 with a 31-32 waist. Right now I’m at 212 with a 32-33. 

Bard: Mmmm, numbers are hot! Whatever the calculus, it’s all adding up to one hot body! Do you have any mentors in the craft of brutal wrestling domination? What are some lessons you’ve learned from them?

Cage Thunder: Kid Leopard. The man has forgotten more about wrestling than I’ll ever know. I was already sort of a heel when I came to BGEast, but his mentoring, advice, and experience helped me develop into the wrestler I am now. There have been some amazing heels at BGEast over the years—the Brooklyn Bodywrecker; Clint Morgan; Cruz; Jose; The Enforcer; Shane McCall come to mind off the top of my head—all of whom are/were masters of the ring. I’ve learned from watching them, too. There’s nothing like watching a master heel just take some screaming muscle boy apart, is there? I’ve actually wrestled the Bodywrecker privately—that was a LOT of fun, and I learned a lot. I really enjoy wrestling other heels, frankly—there’s nothing hotter than a heel v. heel match to see who’s the bigger bad ass.

Bard: A private match with BBW?! Talk about a clash of the titans! That sounds seriously hot!  I’ve got a thing for hunks who wrestle in masks. You’re a perfect case in point: you’ve got a smokin’ sexy body, but damn it all if that mask doesn’t multiple my arousal a dozen times over. Other than turning on guys like me, is there anything else behind your choice to wrestle in a mask?

Pink Puma never stood a chance!

Cage Thunder:  I’d already been doing some wrestling as a heel, but the mask completed the package. Again, it was the Boss’ idea, and I really took to it, frankly. I’d never really given it much of a thought before—despite living in a city that’s all about masking! Now, I fucking love it. I’ve done some private matches where all I wear is the mask…and unmasking your opponent? HOT.

Bard: Hot, indeed!  And speaking of heat, you’ve laid down some withering trash talk on the pages of this blog for one of my long-standing all-time favorite homoerotic wrestlers, Mitch Colby. What’s with the heat over hot, hunky Mitch? Is there a backstory there?

Cage Thunder: Listen at yourself—‘hot hunky Mitch.’ Excuse me for a second while I lose my lunch. I just flat out don’t like him—I’ve never liked guys like him; arrogant and think their looks somehow make them better than everyone else. I’d like to tie him up in the ropes and just pound on him for a few hours, you know, beat some fucking humility into the arrogant bitch—not that it would do any good. And hoist him up into a torture rack and make him scream like the bitch he is…strip his trunks off him and shove them into his mouth while I claw his pecs so his screams of agony are muffled…sleeper him until he’s almost out, then let up so I can torture him some more…I want to see how much those abs he’s so fucking proud of can handle. I bet he’d be begging me to stop within five minutes of the bell ringing. (laughs) If the stupid bitch even lasted that long…

What did Mitch Colby ever do to earn such ire!

Bard: Well, I for one never, ever get tired of seeing Mitch in action. I’ll continue to lobby for that match to happen! So let’s say you just climbed into the ring. You don’t know who your opponent is – never heard of him, never seen him before. He comes sprinting out of the locker room, hops the top rope inside the ring, and stands bouncing on the balls of his feet in the opposite corner from you. He’s your picture-perfect opponent. Describe him.

Cage Thunder: You know, I don’t really have a ‘type,’ per se. I’ve been accused of being a body fascist more times than I can count, but it’s not true. I like big guys, I like small guys, I like lean guys, I like bears—I like all different types, really—and at BGEast I’ve had a broad range of body types to wrestle; from little guys like Boyd Hicks and Kid Karisma to pretty muscleboys like Goldenrod (what a fucking poseur he was!) to big guys like Alexi Adamov and Drew Russell. I’ve always had a thing for classic heels, like Stan Hansen and Arn Anderson, but I also like the lean muscle studs like Kevin Von Erich and Randy Orton…. Oh! I know who—Ryan Kwanten from “True Blood.” Put him in some skimpy white trunks, white leather knee-high lace up boots, some white kneepads…oh HELL yeah. He’s my current fantasy opponent. You want to write that one up?

Let’s get Ryan Kwanten suited up and in the ring with Cage Thunder NOW!

Bard: I’ll get right on that, as soon as I can manage to somehow zip up my pants! The image of Ryan as a white knight staring you down across the ring is going to distract me for days! Mmm, mmm, mmm! Okay, so name names! Who’s posed the toughest challenge to you at BGE? Who’s the sexiest opponent you’ve faced? Who (other than Mitch) would you still love to get your hands on?

Cage Thunder: I would have to say the toughest challenge I’ve had at BGEast (in matches released thus far) would have to be Alexi Adamov. We didn’t do a one-on-one match; we were on opposite sides of a tag match. I’ll give him some props—he put me through the ringer; an amazing display of back torture, hold after hold after hold. When I watched the match later I was like, “damn!” He made me submit, and then we had to face each other again to open the next round, and he almost finished me off once and for all—Max came to my rescue—and while I did get in the ring with him a few more times during the match and just beat the holy hell out of him, I’ve always wondered how a singles match would turn out between us. I mean, I know I’d beat him—he doesn’t seem to ever be able to close out a match—but I think we’d have a good fight—probably would be a classic.

Sweaty, sexy Alexi put Cage Thunder through the ringer!

Bard: Fascinating! I’d never have guessed that Alexi would be the first name out of your mouth! He’s so damn pretty, it’s easy to forget that he’s one big, tough son of a bitch as well! What about sexiest?

Cage Thunder: All of my opponents at BGEast were sexy, no question about that. I’d say the sexiest wrestler I’ve ever been in the ring with is undoubtedly Lightning Rod. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Sensuality just fucking oozes out of his pores…he’s one of those men you KNOW would be the best fuck you’ve ever had, the kind that would inspire me to all kinds of sexual depravity…I’d like to be locked in a motel room with him for a weekend. FUCK.


Bard: No argument from me there!

Cage Thunder: I also have to give props to Boyd Hicks. I don’t know what it was about him, but the minute I laid eyes on him my cock get hard, and it stayed hard all the way through the match. We had chemistry, for sure. We’re supposed to get together for a private match the next time I’m over there, and I’m really looking forward to it.  Kid Karisma has one of the most gorgeous asses I’ve ever seen, and Punk Puma was a sexy boy, too. Damn, I’ve wrestled some hot guys! 

“…one of the most gorgeous asses I’ve ever seen…”

Bard: I’ve toyed with the idea of creating a title for most gorgeous wrestling ass on the planet, which would obviously belong for all eternity to Kid K! And Pink Puma is another long, long, long-standing crush of mine. So who else would you like to face?

Cage Thunder: Let’s see, who at BGEast would I like to wrestle that I haven’t? I’ve got a thing for Jake Jenkins and Austin Cooper—they are pretty boys; maybe Lightning Rod and I could do a tag match with them on the other side of the ring. Joe Robbins. Braden Charren. I’ve always wanted to wrestle Chris Bruce. Denny Cartier—holy Christ, that one! Patrick Donovan would be fun in the ring, I think. Oh, man, how could I forget the Enforcer? A ring war to see who the real masked stud of BGEast is? Talk about Masked Mayhem! Chase LaChance has also beefed up real nice.  But really, I’d be willing to take on anyone on the roster, past or present.

Bard: That doesn’t surprise me. You certainly wrestle like you’ve never met an opponent you aren’t thrilled to crush! You blogged recently about your early wrestling career in which you weren’t quite the unstoppable brutalizer that you are these days. You describe how it can feel to get seriously worked over by a dominating opponent. I quote you here, when you say, “Fuck you pussy – it feels good.” Where do you think the connection comes from between dishing out or taking punishment in the ring and getting turned on?

Cage Thunder: (laughing) As I said earlier, I’m pretty flexible, so I can be stretched a lot further than just about anyone. Usually guys are screaming out a submission long before they get stretched out as far as I can go. The great irony is that I am SO flexible that I can’t really stretch myself as far as I need to be stretched on my own; I need someone else to stretch me. So when someone, you know, puts me into a banana split or a Boston crab, it DOES feel good—the stretch feels incredible to me because I can’t stretch myself like that on my own.  But that’s not really what you asked, was it? It’s really a primal, masculine thing. When you’re dominating another man, you’re proving yourself to be the better animal. And its arousing—very much so. In wrestling, your body is your weapon, and you’re proving your body is better, you’re stronger, more dominant, more masculine…how can your cock NOT get hard?

Bard: I’m the last person to have an answer to that question!

Cage Thunder: And the flip side of domination is submission, which is also arousing. Is there anything sexier than a dominant man, who can control you, of being completely at his mercy? It’s also really sexy to test your own limits, see how much you can take. My profile on Globalfight sums it up: “Beat me or prepare to be beaten.” I love being beaten, dominated…but you have to earn it; I’m not going to just roll over and let you have your way with me. Fuck that. Beat me or be beaten…and if you don’t beat me, be prepared, because I will fucking beat you down and humiliate you, you will be my bitch when I am finished with you—and I’ll decide when you’re finished. I ask for no quarter, and I give none.

Bard: Damn.  Um, yeah. Damn! You’ve said it better than I’ve ever heard it said before! You consistently deliver some of the sexiest, most erotic wrestling content being produced, as far as I’m concerned. What do you think about the state of the homoerotic wrestling industry these days? Where do you see it heading in the next 10 years? Who are the rookies you see in the business who you think could have staying power over the long-haul?

Cage Thunder: I don’t really pay all that much attention to other companies, frankly. I’ve been accused of being a BGEast shill with my blog, which is bullshit. I write about BGEast matches and wrestlers because they’re the ones that turn my crank the hardest. I do buy some stuff from Rock Hard from time to time; they have some beautiful boys wrestling for them—some of them have come over to BGEast, in fact. I wish that Lucas Payne would…I’d love to get in the ring with him. He’s a sexy fuck, and he’s talented.

Lucas Payne: “…a sexy fuck, and he’s talented.”

Bard: Ah, Lucas Payne! Another homoerotic wrestler of the month! The idea of him bringing what he’ got and BG East doing with it what it does… wow!

Cage Thunder: I hate the companies that pretend their audience isn’t gay men. Get a grip, bitches. Straight men and women aren’t buying your goddamned product; they can watch WWE on pay-per–view or basic cable. I think it’s homophobic, frankly. BGEast is not ashamed of their audience and they say so, right up front: “gay interest wrestling videos.” I won’t give my money to a company that’s ashamed of why I’m buying their product. It’s my porn, and always has been. A match doesn’t have to wind up erotic for me to enjoy it, but if there’s a physical erotic connection with my opponent I’m not going to push him away and say, “Oh, no, I just wrestle.” I prefer my opponents be in decent shape, if for no other reason than I want the match to last a while; I don’t want to get all suited up and then have him poop out after ten minutes.

Bard: I hear you! And I completely agree about never-say-gay gay wrestling as homophobic. I’d pay a whole lot more attention to other companies if they came out of the closet!

Cage Thunder: I don’t really know about the business end of the business; but I assume as with everything, it’s taken a hit with the economy. And I know piracy is a major issue. I don’t know why these douchebags think it’s okay to steal; calling it piracy doesn’t make it hip and cool, because it’s still fucking stealing. If you came into my house and stole one of my DVD’s, how is that different from downloading it for free from some motherfucking asshole’s free site? And even if the motherfucker who put it up paid for it to begin with, you’re not buying the right to distribute it to the entire world for free. It’s theft, and it should be called what it is. The music industry put a stop to that shit.

Bard: The boys at BG East talked about this quite a bit when I visited there last year. They clearly see it is a real threat to the viability of the industry, not to mention their company. Any thoughts about where the industry is heading?

Cage Thunder: I can’t predict what the industry will be ten years from now because I can’t foresee how technology is going to change and develop. Ten years ago I would have never dreamed of digital downloads or even DVD’s, for that matter. (I do NOT miss videotape.)

Bard: Neither do I. Blue balls waiting to rewind, stop, and start to find the choice piece of action were horrible!

Cage Thunder has respect for Z-Man

Cage Thunder: As for what newcomers have staying power, I’d say that Austin Cooper, Kid Karisma, Jake Jenkins, and Z-Man will be stars for as long as they want to be. Z-Man gets a lot of shit—I’ve seen some really awful smack talked about him on-line, but he’s got a great body and he has talent. The stuff he’s done for BGEast has really started tapping his potential, and there’s even more there. Kid Karisma is just a stud. I really like Morgan Cruise, too—he’s impressed the hell out of me, as has Diego Diaz. And Joe Robbins—I hope he sticks around for a while. The Boss always seems to come up with amazing new talent. 


Bard: I admit that I’m guilty of having given Z-Man my fair share of that shit. I’m also happy to say that I’ve completely turned the corner since he’s been working with BG East. And every one of the guys you mention are absolutely golden in my book!


Cage Thunder: And I’m not ready to hung up my trunks just yet.


Bard: (laughing) That’s fantastic news! I’m looking forward to seeing more of your potent brand of homoerotic wrestling entertainment! You’re a class act, and I’m grateful for this chance to get to know more of the man behind the mask!

Cage Thunder hasn’t hung up his trunks just yet!

Short Cuts

I won’t name names, because that ALWAYS gets me in more trouble than it’s worth. I’ll just say that the same disappointing thought has occurred to me more than once recently as I’ve been sampling homoerotic wrestling new releases.  This recurring thought is, Grabbing crotch does not make wrestling homoerotic.

100% homoerotic wrestling featuring (among many other elements) Mitch Colby grabbing Derek da Silva’s crotch in Crotch Crushers 1.

Do you know what I mean? I’ve seen an anecdotal rise in the number of wrestling products marketed to you and me in which the most homo and/or erotic content is almost entirely limited to a crotch grab. Now, I love a nice crotch grab. That goes for all sorts of contexts and purposes, actually.  The feel of a pulsing, raging cock in my hand is absolutely intoxicating! Two raging cocks in my hand, and I’m guaranteed to have a hangover the next morning. I do not have anything at all against the homoeroticism of taking another man’s cock firmly in hand, per se.

Jobe Zander looks like he’s searching for his keys at the bottom of his purse in Can-Am’s DeCrotchery 3

But my beef, so to speak, is the over reliance on this device to sell wrestling as gay. I realize that there’s a sub-fetish contingent out there with a particular kink for watching and/or experiencing cock abuse. While I don’t count myself in that particular tribe, I can appreciate and get turned on by some cock control as a tool of soul crushing erotic domination. But if that’s really the only element in a match that might distinguish it from a TBS prime time mainstream episode of plasticized canned wrestling drama, then it’s just got one toe on our side of the fence, as far as I’m concerned.

Gino Liotta and Joshua Goodman engage in mutual crotch crushing as just one element of steamy action in Crotch Crushers 2.

Running across a bevy of barely homoerotic wrestling trying to take a short cut with crotch shots as credentials for checking in with you and me as gay-oriented has started to grate on my nerves.  So sure, you squeezed his balls… if you’ve got a disinterested look on your face, it sort of douses the heat. You grabbed a handful of whatever is stuffed down the front of his trunks, okay. But, if neither your hand nor his suffering seem to sell me that you’re about to rip him apart out of a primal lust to own his muscled body, then the stagecraft wears thin.

Friend of neverland, Ben Monaco, convinces me long before he goes for Alex Arias’ crotch that he’s all-in for homoerotic wrestling in Mat Rookies 1!

All this begs the question, of course, what it is that distinguishes some wrestling as homoerotic and others as something else. Of course, mainstream wrestling can turn me on (when it isn’t pissing me off with over-the-top homophobia). Just about any wrestling itself speaks to me as homoerotic almost by definition.  But I propose that there’s an ontologically different beast that is homoerotic wrestling. I’ve danced around this topic many times in the past. It’s a know-when-I-see-it sort of concept, in large part. It also overlaps with the cliche of “chemistry” between wrestlers, which is nearly impossible to quantify but, nevertheless, is unmistakable when its absent. I don’t know that I can put a finger on the baseline requirements (for me), but what makes something distinctively homoerotic wrestling always hits me on many levels.

Muscleboy Tyler St. James checks for a hernia in Pro Sex Fight 8.

Of course, explicit sexuality never hurts to sell wrestling as homoerotic. A suck, a fuck, a kiss even (especially), and I’m a long way to being sold that this wrestling is all about me and my kink. Hell, just having the boys talk openly about the eroticism hanging in the air between them is plenty to suck me in, and when it’s done right, eroticized banter will rev me up a hundred times hotter than an going-through-the-motions post-match fuck.

Reese Wells works 5 different angles at once in dishing out dominating abuse over  Jobe Zander’s package in Ball Busters 1.

It doesn’t require explicitness, though. It can be the fixed gaze of one wrestler and the self-conscious glance at the ground by the other that piques my homoerotic wrestling gaydar. It can be the intimacy of the setting, the gear, the lighting even, that contribute to making me recognize that this is homoerotic wrestling.  It can, and often is, one wrestler so narcissistic that he convinces me that, if humanly possible, he’d fuck himself into a stupor if that annoying opponent of his would just get the fuck out of his face.

Michael Vineland works the joystick from behind in Pro Sex Fight 8.

The best in the business push the homoerotic button from the instant the camera brings them into focus. Homoerotic wrestlers of the month Cage Thunder and (spoiler alert… keep reading at your own risk… oh, wait, too late!) Lightning Rod aka KV are beautiful examples. A half a second after I see their eyes lock onto the body of their opponents like sizing up a juicy filet, I understand without a doubt that the combat that’s about to unfold is first and foremost sexual. They communicate a hunger to grab hold of and consume their opponent that’s instantly arousing. The crotch grab is perfectly homoerotic when they latch on and threaten to rip an opponent out by the roots, because of everything else they’ve done to make it clear that they get off on this!

In Ball Bash 2, Reese Wells gets harder the more vicious Jonny Firestorm attacks his crotch! Now that’s homoerotic and hot!

There are plenty of wrestling products that push me way over the edge without ever veering into crotch grabs, fucking, or nudity even. They’re often completely homoerotic in my eyes for a dozen other elements that signal to me that this isn’t wrestling for 8 year-old boys with g-rated comic book fantasies of heroes and villains.  And equally as true, a gratuitous ball claw or tug at a cock is seldom the end-game for landing a wrestling match firmly within the circle of what I consider gay-themed, for gay eyes, wrestling kink, or homoerotic.

Unmasked and unsheathed, Stinger swells with excitement as Homoerotic Wrestlers of the Month Cage Thunder and Lightning Rod batter his stinger mercilessly.

As the photos I’ve attached to this post illustrate, the crotch grab is a delightfully hot tool in the tool belt of the accomplished homoerotic wrestler.  When it’s dished out in measured quantity, it’s fantastic! When placed as an integral component of an onslaught of unmistakably homoerotic content, the crotch grab is often precisely the point at which I lose all self-restraint. However, and I’m not naming names, but I just need to say it: solely based on a wrestler grabbing his opponent’s crotch, it doesn’t make it homoerotic wrestling. A one-trick pony gimmick in an otherwise lukewarm bath of run of the mill wrestling does not a homoerotic wrestling match make.

Snake Bite

While I’ve been out of commission and swimming in corrugate, Alex has continued to perfect his craft by writing a new installment in his highly acclaimed American Wrestling League (AWL) series for the Sidelineland wrestling fiction group.  Alex’ character Danny Chase generated a lot of buzz when he debuted in an earlier AWL match, so I anticipate a lot of interest in seeing Danny back in the ring, especially when regular readers learn that this new work, “Snake Bite,” is another “side hustle” match in the Men’s Wrestling Alliance (matches billed for those with your and my tastes in mind).

In over 3 years, I’m pretty sure I’ve posted about my frequent kink for big vs. small wrestling. Alex dishes up a delightfully deviated differential between Daring Danny and his unexpected opponent at MWA, Snake.

I’m not as certain whether I’ve waxed poetic about my occasional fetish for erotic shower scenes, but that’s also an element in Snake Bite that worked me hard when I read Alex’ new work. There’s something powerfully intimate and, when done right, a perfect extension of the eroticism of dominance and humiliation when wrestlers slap down their junk and measuring tapes in the ring and then finish up cementing the pecking order together in the shower. There’s just something about soap, lather, water sheeting and streaming over muscles, that become a short cut to my arousal. Set within that context the drama of hard fought wrestlers who’ve pounded out their rivalry in the ring, and it turns absolutely golden. Sprinkle in the fact that said ring rivalry is also a grudge match, and I’m breathlessly soaking in a second (or third) wave of satisfaction with locker room scenes like the one Alex serves up in this story.

Need I say it again? No, but I’m happy to repeat myself: Alex’ writing is superb. His description of the action is seamless and beautifully paced. His characters haunt me for days after I first read them. We’re incredibly fortunate to get to enjoy what Alex is writing.  On behalf of Alex and me, let me just remind you that now it’s your turn! Get to putting your homoerotic wrestling imagination to good use (other than working yourself into a quivering mess), and put word to page to share with the rest of us at Sidelineland!

The Evolution of a God

Dan the Steel Muscle God promised me a follow up interview after our provocative conversation several weeks ago. Now that I’m resettled, I’m doing some pre-interview prep. If you have any questions you’d like me to ask him, let me know. In the mean time, SMG has continued to serve up sweet, up close and intimate looks at his every inch!  The formula that guides SMG’s web presence has you and me squarely in his cross hairs. His weekly body worship sessions are an intoxicating combo of a mouthwatering physique, a knee-weakening voice, and a downright charming, lighthearted personality.  Anyone into hot, natural muscle to admire live and interactive should find plenty to satisfy in the quirky, funny, sexy performances of SMG.

Dan the Steel Muscle God is looking directly at you!

But you and I aren’t just anyone. We’re among those with a particular appreciation for the eroticism of wrestling.  And from the very first YouTube clip I stumbled across of SMG years ago, he’s been stroking my wrestling fetish with remarkable clarity. 90% of SMG’s online presence is solo, so the actual wrestling content is relatively sparse. But that said, of that 90% of solo time, right near 100% of it includes a nod to what turns you and me on hardest. SMG talks (a lot!) about using his gorgeous, steel muscles to squeeze and crush you. A close up session focusing on his lickable legs are punctuated (exclamation points) by purring commentary of how much SMG (and you) would enjoy feeling those thighs wrapped around your body and slowly squeezing the air out of your lungs. He explains that his double bicep flex staring down into his webcam is the view you’d see after he’s brought you to your knees and made you submit, quivering, to his dominating power.

SMG tames a contender trapped between his steel trap steel muscles.

While I find plenty in SMG’s solo work to hit the spot, he does occasionally recruit a buddy to appear with him, and with increasing frequency his buddies are up for wrestling the Steel Muscle God. My favorite so far is a compact cut of prime beef who nearly rivals the Steel Muscle God in some body part side-by-side comparisons.  SMG did a scissorfest jockstrap mat match with this satisfying entree a couple of months ago. That match ended with a shocking nut shot for which SMG promised fans that some form of strict discipline would be enforced on the demigod challenger in a future confrontation.

SMG threatens to break another contender in half across his bulging shoulders!

While I’ve been out of contact with the internet, SMG has since posted a mattress match against a surprisingly sexy, skinny, goateed scrapper whose physique is nowhere near the caliber of steel muscle godliness, but who instantly has a snarling, fuck-you-and-your-steel-muscles attitude that catches me off guard. He’s no babyface muscle boy. He’s lean with downright skinny legs. I’d easily overlook him in a crowded bar. But he’s game in a big, all-in way that turns me on even more than it clearly irks a contemptuous SMG.

You could do your laundry on that 8-pack while SMG presents his suffering opponent up like a cat showing off his mouse.

SMG’s on-camera wrestling repertoire is expanding rapidly, and I’m enjoying (to say the least) watching the evolution. He’s been primarily a scissors and bearhugs man from what I’ve seen of him in the past, but with this new skinny, cocky loudmouth, SMG unleashes a menu of hot pro wrestling holds that display his power and beauty as beautifully as they demonstrate his total control of his opponent.

Tongue wagging, SMG makes eye contact to let you know this is all for you!

Spend even a few minutes with SMG, and you’ll learn quickly that he’s ALL about pleasing his fans. His devotion to his worshippers is coming through in an incredibly sexy way as he’s growing more creative and confident in his dominating stylings. He mugs for the camera, usually silently (though sometimes he speaks directly to the fans) signaling that every step of the way, he’s serving up his suffering opponent for the pleasure of the viewer. His sexy sense of humor peeks out with a wink and a wagging tongue as he does chiropractic work on his opponent in several backbreaker variations.  Racking the boy across his bulging shoulders, SMG shoves the lucky bastard’s face into the camera to demonstrate the chumps total humiliation for our enjoyment.

SMG looks stunning as he rains down verbal humiliation on his helpless “challenger.”

SMG’s cocky banter flows like liquid gold, punctuated irregularly by the grunts and gasps of the outmatched mere mortal nearly getting ripped limb from limb. So many of the qualities that I particularly find arousing in homoerotic wrestling are wrapped up in the godly, bulging, ripped to shreds body. SMG is always telling a story, and I just can’t overstate how sexy his deep, purring voice is. He’s completely generous with his incredibly gorgeous body, demonstrating every muscle and crevice from every angle an adoring fan might want to study. He seems to intuitively understand that a worship-worthy body like his is only truly actualized when it’s used, stripped to nearly nothing, to dominate a punishment sponge like his latest doormat buddy.

A homoerotic wrestling steel muscle god!

After reading some of what I’ve written about him, SMG commented to me privately a couple of months ago, “You sure are a big SMG fan!” Truer words never spoken. I look forward to more homoerotic wrestling steel muscle godliness, and I hope to get that second interview soon!