Am I the only one around here whose blood pumps a little faster when a wrestler yanks on his opponent’s trunks? No, of course I’m not. I bet I’m not even the only one who’s poured over stills of trunk pulling to catch a glimpse of what’s hidden on some of the demure hunks of homoerotic wrestling who otherwise have not (yet) put their junk on display in the ring. So here are some Tuesday Trunk Pulls to give you a little leverage on your work week.
Sure, “hump day” has a nice ring to it, but I know I’m not alone in enjoying taking time out in the middle of the week to appreciate the fine art that is a Tree of Woe. The ToW portrays such vulnerability, such anticipation, capturing so much back story and foreshadowing impending doom on the horizon…. just like most Wednesdays in my life. Here are a few choice ToW’s to put the torture of Wednesday into homoerotic wrestling perspective.
I’m entirely on board with the erotic power of a tree of woe. The ToW is an example of how some homoerotic wrestling gems simply require a professional wrestling ring. Hang a hammered hunk upside down in the corner, his knees draped over the top ropes and his feet locked in place beneath the cable connecting the turnbuckle to the post, and there’s all sorts of a hot wrestling gold that’s suddenly ripe for picking. It’s a maneuver that signals total control over a mastered man. The subject of woe is laid out so vulnerably, his body not just on display, but trussed up beautifully for easy access to innovative methods of torture. There’s a little crossover here between bondage kink and wrestling kink, with enough of both to show due respect to all parties involved, as far as I’m concerned. In honor of those of you who harbor a special place in your hearts and crotches for an agonizing, dominating, body manipulating tree of woe (and I hear from you often), this post is for you. Here are 10 ideas for what to do with an opponent once you’ve trapped him in a tree of woe.
I am a vegetarian, but that doesn’t stop me from loving big, juicy, meaty thighs. For no other reason than a absolute adoration of alliteration, here are a sample of some of the juiciest homoerotic wrestler quads that come to my mind in order to celebrate Thursday Thighs.
Regular readers have heard me bitching and whining about my work life for years now. I’ve been wrestling with a bear of a job that leaves me underpaid and my labor generally exploited by others. However, I’m ecstatic to report that the mammoth project that has been weighing me down and distracting me from the great fun of posting more here and writing more homoerotic wrestling fiction has come to a thrilling conclusion. I took some vicious attacks along the way, but as of today, I have wrestled the mother fucker to his back, pinned his chin beneath my crotch, and slapped down a crowing, lingering, humiliating 3-count pin in the middle of the ring.
The size and scope of this exhausting victory cannot be overstated. I’m poised to start a new job in a few weeks, which will include an epic promotion and huge jump in compensation. I will be moving across the country in the mean time, so my availability to post around here will likely continue to be spotty. But life is good, gentlemen!
Alex Adamov as Sisyphus gets a purchase on Cole Cassidy’s ass in his struggle to rise to his feet in Old School Meets New
Yesterday, I waxed philosophical about the existential implications of a homoerotic wrestler struggling to climb up to his feet, dragging himself up inch by inch holding onto his opponent’s muscles. In a happy coincidence, I just posted a new story on behalf of Alex that features just this fantastic element, as a superhero in trouble struggles on his knees in front of his villainous opponent.
This 3rd chapter in The Cave series by Alex is climactic in every sense of the word! Holy crap, I needed IV fluids to make it through the end of the match, in which pornstar wrestler Cody, whose wrestling alter-ego is The Bat, is shocked to his core to face his arch-nemesis, Bane.
I’ve heaped praise on Alex’s writing in the past, so I won’t belabor the obvious. Alex’s writing is beautifully artful, his storytelling is compelling, and his homoerotic wrestling imagination is mindblowingly hot! If you’ve read the first 2 chapters of The Cave, get yourself to the Sidelineland collection and find yourself some private time to enjoy the culmination of this erotic trilogy. If you haven’t read the first 2 chapters, do that first before you head to chapter 3… but pace yourself. This is potent, sexy, truly homoerotic fantasy fantastic!
Send me your contributions of homoerotic wrestling fiction to share with the group, and share your feedback through the Sidelineland discussion group (which gives you instant access to the full collection of reader contributions).
In Greek mythology, Sisyphus was cursed to eternally push a boulder up a mountain, only to see it roll back down the mountain each time he reached the top. Drawing from the myth of Sisyphus, existentialist philosopher Camus wrote about the absurdity of the search for meaning in an essentially meaningless world. Like Sisyphus, Camus argued, we are trapped within the futile task of seeking divinity and eternal truths, only to have our convictions tumble down over and over. We are destined to repeatedly learn that what seems so important to us at any given moment is, ultimately, hollow and pointless.
Battered Coop climbs inch by inch up Diego’s long, luscious body.
As I wrestle a boulder up my own mountain, wondering if there’s any point to it all, it reminds me of the potently erotic moment in some of my favorite homoerotic wrestling matches when a bashed hunk peels himself up off the mat to look up at the dominating beast staring down at him impassively. This drama shows up in most Cole Cassidy matches and several Kid Vicious crushings. Most recently, my heart nearly beat out of my chest when I watched cocky goldenboy Austin Cooper crawl, inch by inch, up the infinitely long legs of 6’3″ giant Diego Diaz, climbing up the Latino sex-bomb’s legs as Diego leers down at him, just waiting for him to reach his feet only to slam him back down to the mat once again. Of course, there’s the homoeroticism of the catcher’s face suggestively traversing his opponent’s crotch. And undoubtedly, there’s the drama of whether the beaten man is battered sufficiently to prevent him from launching a vicious attack on the standing hunk’s vulnerability wagging in his face. But I’m captured by this moment for the melodrama, as well, the mythological scope of the scene as a once-invulnerable muscleman keeps climbing in the face of futility. As the pitcher watches impassively from above, allowing his crushee to use his frame as a handhold, to hang from him in his weakness, to lean on him, clutching his muscles for borrowed strength, I’m most moved when the fates are irresistible, and the struggling climber is destined to just barely reach the apex of his journey up his opponent’s body only to be slammed back down to start the futile journey all over again. Sure, it may be a bleak assessment of the human condition, but it’s one seriously hot scene in homoerotic wrestling, as hunky Sisyphus sweats his way up the mountain, inch by exhausted inch, destined to go tumbling down over and over again.
Cole is uncharacteristically Sisyphus to Chris Bruce’s mountainous muscles in Demolition 10.
Cole squeezes Chris’s powerful thighs as he climbs up the classic muscleman’s waiting, glistening body.
Just as Cole reaches the summit, Chris scoops him up…
…parades him helplessly and hopelessly around the ring…
…and flings him back to the mat from where he started.
Then Cole starts the long journey up the mountain once again….