Tag: Braden Charron

Tats Named

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I completed a major milestone today that I’ve been working toward for the past 4 months (accounting for spotty posting and neglected wrestling fiction in that time). So in honor of a banner day in the Bard household, I’m declaring you all “Name That Tat” quiz geniuses, and I’m passing out gold stars to everyone. Let’s review what you, my homoerotic wrestling genius friends, already know:
Tat #1 belongs to…
…Jobe Zander.

Jobe works his ass off in many venues, but here he’s pictured in his hot-off-the-presses newest release for BG East, wrestling against Cage Thunder in Masked Mayhem 8.

Tat #2 belongs to…
…BG East’s Braden Charron.
I haven’t seen this match, but from the stills, I have to say that I think Braden’s gear in Hunk Bash 11 against Kieran Dunne is my very favorite thing that I’ve seen Braden in (excluding seeing him in nothing at all). I’d still like to hear a translation for the shoulder tat. I’m guessing it says something like, “Beautiful Bubble-Butt Boy.”

Tat #3 belongs to…
…Thunder’s Arena’s rookie, Sledge.
Now those are pecs you can sink your teeth (or claws) into! Here, Sledge is pictured in his debut match, going up against muscle tat body beautiful, Eric Fury, in Bodybuilder Battle 27.

Tat #4 belongs to…
…Naked Kombat’s Tyler Saint.
 Tyler is back this week from a long absence from Naked Kombat and homoerotic wrestling, and true to the PR, he’s looking bigger and harder than ever against hairy hunk Alessio Romero.

And tat #5 belongs to…
…BG East classic, Syddo Riley.
Syddo’s buried deep in the catalogs, but he’s a treasure to look at when you find him. This sweet bicep flex from Syddo seems to be not directly related to any one wrestling match that I can find him in, but just to illustrate the excellent use he managed to put all those muscles to, here he is ripping the deltoid muscles off the bone of babyface muscleboy, Tony Romano for Bratpack 12.
So raise your glass with me now and toast to your homoerotic wrestling acuity and to my success of the day! Well done, my friends!

Asses Named

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No one posted a perfect score for this week’s installment of Name That Ass. I’m still looking for teacher’s pet. Keep studying, gentlemen. Adoring homoerotic wrestling asses requires intense, exhaustive study. Don’t be discouraged if you didn’t do well. I grade on a curve, and preparing for the next quiz should be it’s own reward. In the meantime, here are the answers to the quiz:
Ass #1 belongs to:

 BG East’s Tyrell Tomsen.
Stunning size and gorgeous proportions, when Tyrell is naked and soaked in sweat in the wrestling ring, he can strike one of the most lustworthy still life’s on record. As pictured, Tyrell was playing dominating bully to opponent Braden Charron for Strip Stakes 1. It was Tyrell’s Summer Sizzler against Bobby Horton that convinced me that Bobby deserved the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month last summer.  Tyrell has definitely been out-wrestled in his brief tenure with BG East, but he’s never been out-muscled or out-classed when it comes to his picturesque physique.
Ass #2 belongs to:
BG East’s Kid Karisma.
Kid K has captured me in his gravitational pull lately, and I’ve found myself circling back to marvel at his performances over and over again. His ass, in particular, is simply astonishingly beautiful. This particular shot is from his face off with Rocco in Gear Wars 1. I’ll gush soon about his Wet ‘n Wild appearance with Christian Taylor, but in the mean time, marvel a little longer at those glutes…

Did ass #3 pose a challenge? It belongs to none other than…
Can-Am’s pornboy extraordinaire, Mark Wolff.
Blake Onassis would have also earned you full marks for this one, since he’s cross listed under both names. This particularly fun shot is of Mark getting his face smashed into the lockers by Billy Herrington (also AKA’s Billy Marcus) for Lords of the Lockerroom. He was always a pornboy musclegod, with an ass for days and nipples the size of half dollars. Frankly, it wasn’t really Mark’s wrestling that ever sold me, but I’d buy some full contact moving pictures of that body anyday.
I imagined ass #4 might have given some students trouble. It belongs to…
Naked Kombat’s John Magnum.

I’m positive that I’ve seen Magnum wrestling somewhere else, but for the life of me, I can’t remember where. He blew my socks off (pants, too!), when I saw him in his one and only (to date) appearance at Naked Kombat in a nail-biter against Phillip Aubrey. Phillip nearly took the big muscle brute in this match. If there was ever a tie, in the gestalt sense, these two boys were perfectly, evenly matched, despite having distinctly different styles and builds. John’s personality, though, is absolutely kink-stastic. He’s 110% present. He delights in every second of domination, and he struggles to free himself from absolutely ever nano-second under Phillip’s control. He’s a beautiful man, and although I haven’t had an opportunity to enjoy much more wrestling from him, I get a little contact high off of his tweets now and then.

I didn’t hear from any advanced players who correctly identified the monster muscle glutes of ass #5 as belonging to…
Thunder’s Arena’s Coupe.

I’ve marveled before that Coupe is a muscle freak. That does not always equate to homoerotic gold, but just like his trunks in his poolside back-and-forth with Cameron Mathews, Coupe is indeed homoerotic wrestling kink gold in my book. If ever there was a body that absolutely required comment, even awe from his opponents, it’s Coupe’s. But that’s not really what Thunder’s does, sadly. It’s much more frat house romp than full on homoerotic body worship. I haven’t seen him at Thunder’s in a while, but I’ll just put it out there here and now, if ever Coupe is looking for some homo muscle worship to make up for all the neglect the boys at Thunder’s have made him suffer, I’m first in line with the baby oil.

So how did you do? I put more weight in progress over time than any individual quiz grade, so I hope that you’re finding that you’re performance is improving as you take more Name That Ass quizzes. Don’t be discouraged if you didn’t do as well as you’d hoped. We both know that you love the subject matter, so devoting yourself with renewed enthusiasm to your studies should be no burden at all.

Value Added

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Several recent comments here have sent me thinking more deeply about what it is that a wrestling kinkster gets in explicitly homoerotic wrestling that he doesn’t in basic cable pro. “The gay” has had a longstanding presence in straight-up pro wrestling for… well, forever, hasn’t it? The classic flaming pro-wrestler with his feather boa, dancing on the balls of his feet, have been a not-so latent element in the scene for at least as long as pro wrestling has been televised, it seems to me. I made a break with regularly following straight-up pro scenes about a decade ago, but when I’m flipping through the channels, I get the impression that “the gay” continues to creep more and more into that scene. Hasn’t there been and openly gay wrestler or two? Isn’t the erotic sub-text getting more and more main-text, as the modern audience is catching on to what so many of us have understood for a long time… that two hardbodied, barely clothed hunks grinding and squeezing their bodies together can’t help but be about sexual prowess, if not outright sex.


But I’m so far out of the straight-up pro loop, I’ll have to rely on those many of you who keep up with it to correct me. Feel free, in fact. I’m blindly wandering into a subject that I know, at most, only 50% about: what is it that we gay wrestling kinksters get in our homoerotic wrestling that we don’t get in straight-up basic cable pro? (Indie fanatics can tell me if this applies to that scene as well)…. In no particular order:
Tear-away crotch gear. And for that matter, full-on centering of the gorgeous male erection. If these elements were popping up in straight-up pro, it would seriously make me consider diving back into that scene. As it is, I’m thinking that, despite a diversity of gear and gear-related stories in straight-up pro, the tear-away crotch and the aroused cock are entirely in the domain of the homoerotic side of wrestling. Please, tell me I’m wrong.
Hand-to-bare-crotch ball abuse. Before I washed my hands of straight-up pro entirely, crotch abuse was on the rise. But as far as I know (and you will correct me), wrestlers actually stuffing their hands down each other’s trunks and clawing each other’s balls for all it’s worth (or even better, entirely naked, prolonged cock and ball bashing), marks a dividing line between wrestling packaged for us as opposed to wrestling packaged for them.
Passionate, full on, tongues-down-throats kissing. I can remember at least a couple of instances where a straight-up pro story used a man-on-man kiss as the excuse for violence (not hard to read the homosexual panic storyline here), but never as the mutual climax of the physical competition. Hard fought, sweaty, pounding, tooth-and-nail wrestling should lead to some intense respect and mutual gratification, I think. If the buff bigboys on basic cable occasionally lost themselves in passion at the end of a particularly close fought match, again, I’d absolutely have to tune back in.
Naked bearhugs. Well, naked everything, really. So we’ve been led to believe that the ancient Greeks battled it out this way, but as far as I know, other than the occasional bare-ass moment (treated as a moment of ego-crushing humiliation), the straight-up pros keep their gear on their bodies. A bearhug or a boston crab or a head scissors may be technically identical between the two genres, but the innovation of losing the gear first completely retranslates everything into a language I’m much more fluent in, and whose tones I find much more pleasing.
Oil wrestling. Especially naked oil wrestling, but seriously, any kind of oil wrestling seems like it’s this side of the neutral zone between straight-up pro and full-on homoerotic wrestling. Lubricating bodies can’t help but make everything more arousing, both in the action and on this side of my television screen. I suspect I could be on thin ice on this one, and I’ll be very pleased to be corrected to learn that the straight-up pros are breaking out the babyoil for one another… but I’m doubtful.
Toe-sucking. Okay, I can’t remember seeing this in a wrestling match before my current favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Rusty Stevens, pulled it out as a defensive move against Mitch Colby this summer. So it isn’t exactly a staple of homoerotic wrestling. But somehow, I can’t see this innovation showing up in prime-time. Both genres have overlapping standard toolkits for distraction and diversion in a match, but I, for one, am really pleased when I see some erotic worship as a strategic move.
The naked pony ride. Or, really, the loser-gets-used scenario in general, involving any element of nakedness. The pony ride itself seems to be a signature primarily at Naked Kombat, though I’d love to see this gimmick show-up elsewhere. Somehow, I could imagine seeing it cross-pollinate through other homoerotic wrestling companies about a century before it would show up in straight-up pro… though Joe at Ringside at Skull Island continues to feature some fantastic indie boys I’d pay good money to see ride or get ridden… naked, of course.
The jack-off. Either post-match or, as Aryx Quinn illustrates here with Braden Charron (and KL on Chris from yesterday’s post), locked in a classic wrestling move, a forced to cum show of domination/voyeurism/humiliation. This falls under the same theme as the any-straight-up-pro hold that turns naked idea, but add to that some masturbation, and, well, this just isn’t going to show up on basic cable anytime soon… or a pay-per-view extravaganza… or, well, anywhere other than the homoerotic specialists.
Oral. The spoils of victory never tasted so sweet on any, any, any straight-up pro match as it does when a homoerotic wrestler lays his loser out and sucks his cock like there’s no tomorrow. Depending on the angle, the loser-gets-forced-to-suck story (see every Naked Kombat match, for example), also works only on this side of the line. Just as an aside, I’m more a fan of the taste of victory than I am of the loser-gets-face-fucked plot. Ironically, there’s something almost “straight” feeling about the latter to me…
Anal. Most of the same comments apply here. This just isn’t going to show up for the straight-up pro boys, though how sweet would that be to see some of those fine, muscle-asses on the line and plowed in the center of the ring when they lose? But that’s precisely what leads me (and many of us, I’m sure) to homoerotic wrestling products. Straight-up pro only takes us so far. Our imaginations can complete the scene, but there’s something awfully satisfying and, in some ways, validating about seeing the scenario play out exactly the way you and I would imagine. I don’t think that a match needs to end in a forced-fuck to be homoerotic, by any means. In fact, I get a little tired when it seems to be obligatory, and I get the impression that the creativity and competition of a wrestling match sometimes turn into clock-punching routine as the boys go through the familiar motions. But a victory fuck closes the circuit in my mind. From the anticipation, promise, and implications of straight-up pro, homoerotic wrestling fills in the silences and opens up the possibilities that turn me on like no baggy-shorts prime-timer has ever done.

I know I’ve missed a lot. I’m sure I’ve overstated my case… because that’s just what happens when I have a whole blog to myself to rant and ramble. But seriously… sincerely… I’ll be pleased no end to hear what I’ve managed to get completely wrong here.

The Gratuity

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I caught a young, nicely muscled hottie in the gym locker room flexing in the mirror. Context is everything. I see (and appreciate) flexing in the work out room all the time. On the gym floor, posing is cocky, perhaps competitive, certainly exhibitionist. But in the locker room, a double bicep in the mirror is just gratuitous, narcissistic, and, frankly, incredibly hot.


The wrestling flex-pose is all about context, too, I think. The spontaneous surge of adrenalin that inspires a dominating victor to pump out a most-muscular makes sense. It’s self-congratulatory, self-reveling, the exclamation point at the end of the statement, “I own you now!”

Prior to a match, the flex-pose is a little more like the gym bunny in the workout room. The two as-yet-untested studs flex for one another, to be seen by one another, to be compared with one another. The pre-match flex is about intimidation and psyching each other out, as in, “Just look at these muscles! This body is too much for you to handle.” The pre-match flex sets the stage for the grappling, sometimes serving as the only real plot, as both men present their bids (I’m the strongest… my muscled arms will break you… my powerful thighs will squeeze you), and then as the match unfolds, they play their cards to see who actually has the best hand.

The flex-pose during the match is more like the self-worshipping muscle boy in the locker room, it seems to me. Once the action has begun, pausing to flash a lat-spread doesn’t really make sense, other than to tell the story of the narcissist who simply can’t get enough of his own hard body. The flex-pose in the course of a match is gratuitous, even risky, and often threatens the suspension of disbelief… oh, and did I mention, it’s hot?
Classic Brit wrestler “Mr. Muscles” Johnny England seemed to enjoy portraying the self-worshipping musclehead in the ring. In his match against Steve Grey, his pre-match posing-to-intimidate just keeps going well after the bell rings. The match opening test of strength displays Mr. Muscles dominant power as he toys with his weaker opponent, alternately driving him to his knees and dragging him to the balls of his feet with a sneer (I admit to writing up that very scene in my wrestling fiction because it’s so entirely tasty). England’s straight-arm overhead press at 08:07 is one FANTASTIC use of a bodybuilder-wrestler. For my money, though he’s clearly less heavily muscled, Steve Grey has by far the more worship-worthy bod in this match, and his peculiar move at 06:48 makes me think all sorts of naughty thoughts.
I recently saved up my pennies to take a look at Tyrell Tomsen’s match against Braden Charron in StripStakes 1 (please, please, please let there be a StripStakes 2!). Neither of these body-beautifuls sell me on the action. There are some nice pec claws clamped onto Braden (tragically, the move is not reciprocated on Tyrell’s gorgeous pecs). But Tyrell’s body and his constant flex-posing (literally from frame one) is entrancing. Tyrell basically re-enacts the locker room scene I saw yesterday (or vice versa), as he worships his incredible muscles in the mirror – in the middle of his match. When he gets sweaty (perhaps relying a little on stagecraft), his stunning, naked, anatomy-chart of a body could be put to no better use than to flex… not for Braden, but for his own self-worship (and, of course, ours).
Finally, I can’t help but mention the artistry of Brad Rochelle once again. His match against indy heel Kurt Kurtis in Hunkbash 7 reveals Brad’s awesome presence and self-awareness in the ring. As the title of the tape would suggest, Brad gets bashed. But the first fall is a back-and-forth. Early on, Kurt calls out Brad, saying, “all those muscles can’t help you now!” So Brad’s luscious muscles become the subject of the first fall. Brad fights to prove that his muscles will destroy Kurt’s guile. At one point, Brad has Kurt on his stomach, his lower legs being bent forward painfully. From behind his opponent, spontaneously, Brad flexes one of his beautiful baseball biceps. Brad helps us believe his self-worship, by monologuing, “You just wish you could see this,” to his opponent who clearly can’t see his posing. Brad makes sense of the mid-match flex for us, acknowledging that the posing is for his own self-congratulatory narcissism (of course, really, it’s for you and me).
The wrestling flex-pose probably, in most cases, defies belief. It’s extraneous to the contest. It’s a distraction from the stated task of securing domination of one man’s body. And personally, I’d have it no other way. Keep giving me my own, private show, that marries hot wrestling with unadulterated body worship.