Tag: Denny Cartier

Gratitude

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This is my second Thanksgiving Holiday since starting this blog a year and a half ago. I have so much to be thankful for these days. I have a home, a job, people who love me, animals who are excited to see me when I come home. More pertinent to this blog, I’m thankful for a lot of delicious, delightful, homoerotic wrestling inspiration, and for so many of you who share in that delight.
Joe is always at or very near the top of my list of most excellent things about the virtual wrestling kink community we share. If at any point you’re feeling bitter toward me for taking a day or two away from posting new material here, just remember to pop over to Ringside at Skull Island and get your dose of fine wrestling kink commentary there. I generally agree with Joe’s tastes 97.48 percent of the time (I’m a stats person), and his blog feeds my imagination and brings a smile to my face (and a pleasing pressure to my crotch) consistently.

I’ve had a wonderful time over this past year working some new collaborations. I’ve worked with several readers/writers, including two projects right now that the ball is in my court on (I promise, compatriots, I’m working on them!). In addition to co-authors, I’m grateful for the opportunity to chat sidebar with so many fine gentlemen with something to share, complain about, and recommend.

My last note of gratitude for the blog today is to Kid Leopard for his generosity and encouragement of my toils here. He’s been extremely generous with my frequent reposts of BG East material. He’s given me more than I deserve this year, including some thoughtful feedback when I’ve strayed into topics that I talk about much more than I really know about. He’s been understanding and tolerant of my not only writing BG East-based fiction, but even writing him in as a recurring character (my own version of him, of course). For KL, as well as for all of the creative minds keeping the homoerotic wrestling industry turning out new delights, I’m grateful for their ability to find the right formula to stay fresh and creative in the face of consumer criticism and, let’s face it, back seat driving (I fully admit to being a prime offender in that category).

My hope is for nothing but the best for all of you who read my words, for all of the hard workers in production in the homoerotic wrestling industry, and for the beautiful and inspired wrestlers and performers who give our little corner of gay kink a go. Play hard! Play safe.

Checking it Twice

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A comment by Joe made me start thinking about my wish-list. This is the time of year when kids start asking themselves what their fondest desires are, isn’t it? The promise of gifts to come, the magic of dreams appearing from out of nowhere underneath a Christmas tree made me start thinking of what Santa might send me. Most pertinent to this blog is my list of gay wrestling products that I don’t yet own but probably will, sooner or later. Note, this isn’t a plea for anyone to fill my wish-list. Rather, this is just a rhetorical device to do more of what I enjoy doing most around here: discussing what works for me in homoerotic wrestling.

Starting with a few newer items from the catalog, I’ve got my eye on Ball Bash 2. I’ve been delighted by the pics in BG East’s Arena for quite some time. I’ve also been tracking Reese Wells’ (aka Brody Hancock) career across promotions over the past year or so. Reese tells a sweet tale. He’s (sort of) a skinny kid with a respectable arsenal of pro moves and attitude to transform him in the ring into a bully-killer. And though I say he’s “sort of skinny,” truth is, his body is quite the meat market, packed with long, lean, clearly hard-worked muscles, including rock hard abs, solid round pecs, and surprisingly bulging biceps. What particularly attracts me to Ball Bash 2 is that it seems to stick out in Reese’s portfolio as the only thing (at least that I can find) featuring him naked with all attention centered explicitly on his impressive cock and balls. In case Reese never returns to the darker, naked, sadomasochistic side of homoerotic wrestling, I’d like to own this little piece of history and enjoy it at my leisure.

Mat Hunks 8 is another recent release that I haven’t snapped up yet, but probably will. Every mat hunk in this line up has starred in a satisfying wrestling fantasy for me (Chris Bruce, Alexi Adamov, Mikey Vee and Denny Cartier). Truth be told, it’s Denny that’s making me long for Mat Hunks 8 more than anything. Frankly, I think that Denny is still looking for who he “is” in homoerotic wrestling. He’s sometimes a little green, sometimes a little sadistic/savvy, sometimes walks in with a dose of humility, sometimes walks in with an “I can fuck up anybody” attitude. As he works on character development, in any case, I never fail to be intoxicated by his body, and even more, by his body in motion. He’s clearly an accomplished, veteran amateur wrestler with speed, balance, and body savvy to bring authentic wrestling cred to his work. I just love watching him work, and the promise of watching him work and get worked over by Mikey Vee is pure fantasy come to life.

Masked Mayhem 6 is my third recent release to show up on my wish list. It all looks good, of course. Muscle Mask jobbing, Jonny in fighting trim, Cage Thunder in the ring. But you know as well as I do that it’s Rafe (mmmmm… Rafe) that’s calling to me. Rafe in the ring against a veteran heel is just too delicious to pass up. Sooner or later, this will be mine.

I also maintain a laundry list of “classics” from farther back in the library. I frequently pick up something from way back to add onto an order for a new release, to try to catch up with all the fantastic stuff that happened before I was actively collecting. Hard Pros 2 is a case in point. The line-up looks like a barnburner from A-Z, including fantasymen Jay Austin, Wade Cutler and Steve Sherman, along with hard heels with astonishing attributes like Max Dare and Jose.

Sadly, some of the classics that look mindboggling fantastic don’t appear to be still on the market (yet?). For example, all of the Bratpack series look fantastic, but I can only find them in the Arena and on some previews from my “older” BGE products, not for sale from the BGE website. Bratpack 12 would be where I’d start, I think. The trailer for this one caught my eye, and the line up (including TNT, Animal Ayben, Jumpin Joe Jaksyn, both Romano twins and Syddo Riley) all look like fantastic characters I’d love to see in the basement/underground genre.

I’m still waiting/hoping for some of the classic Private Bouts series to be converted to DVD. From that treasure trove, I’d start with Private Bouts 32-36, primarily to see a painfully young DW in action against Chase and Brian Baxter against Scott “Dark” Rogers.


The anticipation is frequently almost as sweet as the consummation of the moment when what I’ve dreamed of is at last in hand. But I promise, Santa, I will not grow tired of these toys. I will not break them. And I will, most definitely, continue to play with them over and over and over again, for years to come.

Short and Sweet

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My nose remains to the grindstone this weekend, so I’m just coming up for air long enough to post another something short and sweet.

My very favorite example of short and sweet these days is Denny Cartier. The way that Denny wrestles, I don’t really think of him being as short as 5’5″. When he was paired up with Joe Robbins in Catch Weight 2 as the one climbing uphill, it actually sort of caught me by surprise. Of course nearly anyone would look small standing next to 6’2″, 240 pound bruiser Joe. Frankly, though, there’s just something about Denny’s presence that makes him seem on a level playing field even climbing into the ring with the likes of Joe. Denny moves like water, has a polished command of the mats, and has a beautiful authenticity that I find extremely sexy (and very tasty-sweet).

Another hot little morsel is Jonny Firestorm. Unlike Denny, somehow I’m always aware that Jonny is a modest 5’5″ and 145 pounds (when he’s shredded). And that’s precisely what makes the quality of his wrestling so enjoyable. Stand him up next to 6′, 175 pound TJ Tanner, and from a distance, this looks like it could get ugly. With a weight and reach advantage like that, knowing nothing else, smart money has to be on TJ to manhandle his little opponent.

But Jonny is all business, with an attitude that dwarfs TJ.  The story of the underestimated giant killer, particularly when he’s tight, shredded, and loaded for bear, is a major turn on for me.

Myke Mars in another one that I’ve seen in action, and somehow didn’t quite register the notable fact that he’s just 5’5″ and 150 pounds. My strong suspicion is that I’m not likely to notice anything other than that extremely aesthetically pleasing, round ass of his, particularly once he gets stripped to a thong. 
Gabriel Ross measures in at perhaps the shortest recurring character in the homoerotic wrestling biz, standing a reportedly 5’4″ and 135 pounds. Gabriel has the face of a perpetually juvenile angel to match his modest stature. That’s where the angelic comparison ends, though. He’s tenacious and perpetually looking to sexually dominate. I’ve only seen one of his matches, which devolves too quickly from wrestling into pillow play for my tastes, but it’s hard to argue that Gabriel is a prime example of short-and-sweet.
Finally, I think Rob Chandler will definitely qualify for my short and sweet rankings, though I haven’t seen him in action to know just how sweet. I love his look, including the tats and the shredded physique built for destruction. At 5’5″ and 143 pounds, he packs a whole lot of domination story into a compact container. Once I save my pennies and own him in motion, I suspect Rob will be sweet indeed.

A Real Gem

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Astute readers (or even not-so-astute) will have picked up on the fact that I’ve developed somewhat of a crush on BG East battler, Denny Cartier. I have a fondness for 5’5″, 155 pound grapplers with smooth moves, dimpled chins, and tats (indeed, he’s not the first).

He has seriously filled out since his debut with BGE against Jonny Firestorm. But even in that debut, a little smaller, less defined and less meticulously groomed, Denny caught my eye. There’s something “real” about his appearance and presentation that makes me imagine that I could run into him at the grocery store someday.
On that note, I swear (swear, swear, swear) I sat across from Denny’s little brother on the bus today. I have no idea if Denny has a little brother, much less if he lives in this part of the world and rides public transportation. But this dramatically dimple-chinned, curly dark-haired, irrepressible 5-o’clock shadow at 8 in the morning, early 20’s-something kid was absolutely dipped out of the same gene pool as the lovely gem, Denny.
Back to my imagining of the “real men of BGE” (there’s a product in there somewhere, and when they produce it, I should absolutely get a mention in the credits… and a free copy). Denny has a realness about him that makes him fundamentally believable and that much sexier for it. Not that I think he’s always selling at 100% (though I do think he’s a superb salesman). But I can’t help but believe that he’s a real joe with some wrestling legits who’s making some supplemental income (not to mention fans) by learning the ropes in the world of homoerotic pro of various genres. I could totally see myself running into him in the produce section of the grocery store, buying a head of lettuce right next to me dressed in sweats and trainers. Of course, in my mind’s eye, Denny gives me an appraising nod, checking me out. He strikes up an innocent, yet all the more flirtatious for its innocence, conversation. We end up at his place, furniture cleared to the walls, and he ties me up in knots… repeatedly, because regardless of his less than stellar record in BGE, on his turf in the real world, he’s a savvy, lightning fast bundle of dominating muscle. Finally we’re exhausted, entirely aroused, and 100% in sync.

Oh, and he cooks me dinner afterward.

Bodies Over Time

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I’m seeing another Chris Bruce match in the newest pre-release teasers from BG East Arena. Chris appears to be facing off next with sweat soaked stunner Alexi Adamov. Before someone asks, it’s only up in the Arena at this time, so if you don’t subscribe, you’ll have to wait a little longer to see what I’m talking about. Chris is a classic study in bodies over time, I think. His face remains square-jawed and handsome, and his body has grown into multiple new delights with maturity.

The first match I saw of Chris’ was his Hard Pros bout with Flyboy. It’s not the most entertaining match, and Chris doesn’t quite pull of the prerequisite for the genre (at least not convincingly). He does, however, get an unlikely and unusual victory over Flyboy, stripping his hard opponent and posing overtop of him.
There’s something a little demure about hugely muscled Chris, throughout his career. Unlike his bout with Flyboy, Chris is by far most frequently a solid jobber. He’s a punching bag and object of humiliation for a roster of eager punks who best the by-the-book boytoy.
He made a “comeback” of sorts against Cole Cassidy in Demolition 10. Cole’s atomic wedgie on Chris is worth the price of this entire DVD for my money. A classic heel like Cole opening up an arsenal of humiliation on the bigger, bulkier, more mature muscles of Chris is a classic contest.
My recent purchase of Backyard Brawls 6 illustrates the storyline that bodies over time seem to track if they last long enough. Young stud, Denny Cartier, shows up and essentially pokes Chris with a stick while the elder statesman of the mats is trying to mediate. Words are exchanged. The phrase, “old man” is batted about. And an eager, outdoor battle of youth and muscle vs. experience and muscle is had.
Chris isn’t always the most creative or skilled in his wrestling prowess. He doesn’t always quite hold his own in the battle of banter. But with age, he’s learned to leverage his massive muscles and sheer bulk, squeezing and overpowering many of the young bucks who think he’s easy pickings. As for me, I’ll take experience and muscle or youth and muscle and be equally satisfied at the end of the day. Given a shot a young Denny or mature Chris, I’d be hard pressed to say which one I’d prefer to pound on. Chris scores for that astonishingly round ass, but Denny’s ink is a major turn on for this kinkster. I say it’s a win-win, regardless.
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While enjoying my recent purchase of BG East’s Backyard Brawls 6, I was reminded once again what a beauty Denny Cartier is. I hope that there’s a broad audience for hunky Denny, as I want to see much, much more of him. He has the body and moves that make all the erotic connections for me in wrestling kink. What also strikes me is what a gorgeous face and what a fantastic, hunky, handsome cleft chin he has.

I’ve mentioned it before, but I don’t really know what it is that’s triggered in me when I see a hot cleft chin. Is it some evolutionary programming to associate strong jaws lines and classically carved chins with masculinity? Brad Rochelle, for example, has always been sex on a stick in my mind. There are a lot of things about Brad that make me hot and hard, but it’s that dramatically dimpled chin that makes me melt.
You don’t have to be a homoerotic wrestler to have a cleft chin that turns me on (though it does help). Aaron Eckhart is mostly chin, and the awesome cleft is an incredible turn on. He can play the clown, the cad, the smarmy bad boy, but he’s always the highly erotic sex puppy in my mind.
Thomas Jane of HBO’s Hung similarly wins me over with he chiseled chin. Frankly, I initially went back and forth, trying to decide if Thomas was lust worthy. Something doesn’t quite all line up in Thomas, but I can’t put my finger it. But that fantastic profile makes me set aside whatever hang up I can’t quite name, and place Thomas unquestionably in the sex-stud category.
I never had any pause in worshipping Viggo Mortensen. He oozes sexuality. I’ll crown him king and worship at his feet any day, anywhere.
Like I said, one doesn’t have to be a homoerotic wrestler to have a chin that I obsess over… but it helps. Chip Slater is the chin that launches a thousand ships in my mind. I was not expecting to be fixated on Chip when I bought my first product that included him. But he’s so… fucking… hot! He wrestles hard, and he gives every indication of being a legitimate sadist. He tortures every opponent’s balls. He’s vicious and completely into domination. He has a hot, while not overly muscled body. But that chin is almost obscenely sexy!

Whatever it is… evolutionary hardwiring, socialization, personal idiosyncrasy, I’m a big fan of the chiseled, cleft chin.

Flood Fights

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Kid Leopard mentioned over at BGE Headquarters that the BG East matroom, a couple of offices and storage were all flooded in the recent torrential rains that hit the Northeast. The boys of BGE had to scramble to remove everything out of harm’s way.

My first response to this news flash is sympathy for the BGE staff. I’ve dealt with a flooded basement before, and it sucks. There’s a helpless feeling about watching the water rise indoors. Mother nature puts us in our place, sometimes, reminding us that she’ll kick our asses at any moment she chooses.
My second response was concern for the goods. Save the tapes! Especially, save the classics! I’ve also had to deal with poorly archived materials that get neglected or destroyed accidentally. In the case of BGE, I think the classic materials (Bratpacks, BG in Hollands, all the KL Superbouts) are cultural treasures in need of loving preservation and protection.
My third response (yes, I overthink things… as if you didn’t know that already), was perfectly in line with commenter Magnus who quickly pointed out that the idea of BGE boys wet and sweaty from working all night saving materials from the flood sounds sort of hot. From my experience, dealing with natural disasters can makes tempers flare. Nerves get frayed. Blame starts getting tossed around for every little loss that can’t be undone. And, indeed, there’s plenty of sweat and grime to lubricate small slights (and bodies).
Yep, I can see some seriously hot, wet wrestling coming out of this whole scenario. Perhaps this would be an excellent opportunity to see Brad Rochelle brought out of the back office and back onto the mats, wet, frustrated, sweaty and in a nasty mood. I think Denny Cartier would be the kind of trouper to come in and lend a hand in a pinch, and then get unfairly picked on when tempers flare. And yes, I must angle once again to see more of Lon/Lou Dumont, who would be on hand to help, but then get teased for being too small to carry his weight, before he’d have to open up a can of whoop-ass on some loud-mouthed bigboy… let’s say Tyrell Tomsen.
Everyone wet and in a foul mood… yes, I think BG East could make some lemonade. Regardless, I wish them well. I’m placing an order this weekend, and I’ll keep in mind that the staff may be a little stressed by the flood… and that spontaneous, dirty, sweaty fights may have broken out, distracting the staff further. Good luck, boys!

Intimate Impact

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Pro-style wrestling, when done well, is all about pacing. I love me some long-held torturous holds where a poor battler has the life squeezed out of him inch by inch. Still, sometimes I’m in the mood to seem someone slammed to the ground… hard. While I enjoy watching a man scream in pain while his joints are slowly ripped apart, today I’m more in the mood to watch a cocky musclehead get shut up by a body slam. I can think of a few people who deserve a silencing pounding from six feet off the ground. I think of the body slam like the exclamation point at the end of the sentence, “Fuck you!” That’s the sentiment I’m going for today (not necessarily you personally… unless you deserve it…).

The body slam is fast and blunt, when it satisfies. Today I’m hot for a stud snatched off his feet and immediately driven into the mat hard. Brad Rochelle is 100% golden when he’s suffering, but note his superhuman body awareness. In the split second before his ass is pounded to the mat, Brad’s hand darts out and clutches at Jed Jamison’s crotch dangling tantalizingly in front of Brad’s face…. a master at work….
This amazingly muscled hardbody in jeans slamming the bruiser in trunks (via Wrestling Arsenal) is exactly working for me on so many levels. The street-clothed stud ripping off his shirt and diving under the ropes to take on the wrestler in his natural habitat tweaks several of my kinks. His fierce hold on the dude’s trunks, looking like he’s about to rip them off his helpless projectile, tells a nice story of ferocity and presence. Blue jeans-boy is intent on controlling his victim and delivering precisely the dose of pain that he has coming to him. Whatever he did, I instantly believe that trunks-boy deserved it in spades.
Jaxx O’Doul setting up the stunningly skilled BG East babyface jobber, Cameron Matthews, connects the dots between impact and intimacy. First of all, have you SEEN Cameron’s ass? I frankly can’t quite understand how his opponent’s can restrain themselves from commenting on it all the time (or at least staring for a good long time). In this pic, Jaxx has somewhat demurely cupped Cameron’s ample left cheek in his hand, suggesting that he’s self-consciously avoiding really digging in his fingertips for a good solid grip. His carefully avoiding sinking his claws into Cameron’s glute only goes to show that Jaxx is just as keenly aware of Cameron’s #1 asset as I am. Going out his way to avoid a serious grab of that booty is Jaxx’s tell that he’s absolutely taken note of the booty-in-question. Cameron, for his part, is selling like an Amway Double Diamond, looking awed, frightened, and already in the throes of anticipatory suffering. Cameron’s all business, so I doubt that he’s intending to dig his pinky underneath Jaxx’s trunks, directly overtop of his cock, but nevertheless, that’s exactly what ends up happening. Regardless what Jaxx and Cameron’s intentions are, they illustrate that a body slam just can’t help be both brutal and intimate.
When bodybuilder Ted Shipp scooped up sadist Beau Hopkins in Canadian Musclehunk Wrestling 6, he had one thing in mind. Look at his eyes, and you can just tell. Ted has just a little bit of a crazed ecstasy in his eyes as he swings Beau’s hips high over his shoulder in preparation for driving him to the canvas. Ted is clearly feeling the kink that I’m all about today. Turn that cocky muscleboy into your plaything, Ted! Dangle him helplessly in the air with your rocking body tensed and gorgeous. Sure, let him plant his left hand across your rock hard quad. Indulge him for that split second. Because once you’ve pounded his ass to ground, you’ll have a few moments of peace and quiet from that bastard’s constant, cocky banter. Shut him up hard and commandingly!
Clearly I’m working out some of my own frustrations with my lustful read of the wrestling body slam. There are some overconfident ass holes I know who are crying out for a silencing pounding. But of course in between the lines of every lustful desire for a delivery of pain is the profound intimacy of that moment. The exchange of power and powerlessness, anticipation and consummation, and fear and agony is 100% sexual domination, as least as I read the text. Denny Cartier’s line of sight and right hand here are writing the story. Being owned by the giant-boy Joe Robbins has got to be a helpless, frightening, agonizing experience. Giving up over a half a foot and 80 pounds (!!!), Denny is caught in that instant of dreading the shock of being driven to his back from 6 feet off the ground. He’s captured and helpless, and Denny (a swiftly rising stock in my estimation) can’t help himself but be fixated, biting his lower lip in concentration, and instinctively reaching toward Joe’s package.

Brutality and intimacy. Brutality as intimacy. Fear and agony as the flip side of the lustful ecstasy coin. That’s the currency I’m looking for today. Ready to pay up?