Activating Erotic Mode

In the newest BG East catalog there’s a little gem that is guaranteed to spark controversy. I know that Robo-Wrestler is guaranteed to spark controversy because I’ve already had an extensive debate about it with another BG East fan and friend of mine. Honestly, I think the only really controversial element to Robo-Wrestler is its very gimmick-forward stance. Forrest Taylor and Mason Brooks fucking go for it, with a seriously earnest supporting performance by Freddy Campbell. It’s sensationally sexy and astonishingly clever homoerotic wrestling packaged inside a summer jamboree skit. The text is balls-out bold: Forrest has ordered an android version of Mason Brooks (“Mason-bot” even gets his own wrestler profile, because the commitment to this gimmick as 100%) to wrestle with any time and every time he wants. He wanted a Kid Karisma-bot, but it was too expensive. “You know I’m a cheap-ass, and this is what I could afford,” Forrest snaps back at his gamer buddy Freddy who gives him a hard time for ordering off of the clearance rack. I love all three of these guys A LOT, so I’m sure that’s biased me toward being willing to suspend disbelief and roll with it. But seriously, if any one of these hunks had gone in half-assed, if they’d snickered and rolled their eyes at the gimmick, this product would have ground to a screeching halt for me. But bless their beautiful, hot asses, the boys sell it like there’s an Emmy nomination at stake.

Seriously, go along for this ride, and you will see some sensational storytelling, hot, brutal wrestling, and full-throttle naked homoerotic grappling with a couple of incredibly tasty hot bods. Fuck, Mason(-bot) looks more and more gorgeous every time I see him in something new. His nipples continue to make me swoon, and fuck, those lush, massive, gorgeous pecs of his make everything he’s in have to have “-erotic” as a suffix. He not only takes shots at his reputation at BG East, he dishes them out, acknowleding that his “model” of bot has received poor costumer reviews because “my personality is off-putting. Too real and borderline insulting.” And Forrest just keeps showing up and making me dizzy, match after match. Just sticking to the visual aesthetics, fuck… I am in lust with every inch of him, and his overall proportions. He should be naked in every fucking match, as far as I’m concerned, because, fuck, he looks STUNNING naked. And Robo-Wrestler goes there brilliantly.

I could see some wrestling fans taking issue with the execution of the narrative, that sort of pulls the curtain back on kayfabe and pops open the hood to give a glimpse at the engine underneath homoerotic pro wrestling. Mason-bot has different “challenge levels,” from jobber to competitive wrestler to heel to erotic warrior. Forrest can’t quite figure out how to switch from one challenge level to another (hilariously), and his buddy Freddy mostly makes matters worse for him by accidentally turning up the difficulty rating on Mason-bot. But this is actually the most genius piece of this product for me. Because Mason walks us all (mostly Forrest, but clearly you and me, as well) through the paces of classic jobberdom, trash talking competiveness, sadistic heeldom, and, thank the homoerotic wrestling gods, gagging-for-it homoerotic warrior. Forrest remains Forrest, mind you. He won Jobber of the Year for a reason. So it’s absolutely hilariously fascinating to watch Mason-bot’s different challenge levels bring out different elements to tried-and-true, cheap-ass Forrest. As a jobber, Mason is a ton of shallow bluster and put-on cockiness, swearing that he’ll never submit to Forrest’s (fucking hot) bodyscissors one second, and then tapping out and pleadingly submitting the next. Like a fucking jobber.

“Freddy, I’m going to kill you,” Forrest snarls, when Freddy accidentally turns on the “Grappling Mode.” Mason-bot starts to seriously resemble Mason. He legitimately out-hustles and out-muscles Forrest. He nearly chokes him out cold before Forrest can submit. He’s taunting and bullying, brutalizing the sexy little red-headed minx (with fantasyman quads and glutes). He yanks on Forrest’s beard and stretches out the brutal punishment luxuriously, as the gamer buds struggle to wrangle Mason-bot’s control app under their control. When Freddy accidentally activates “Dirty Tactics” mode, Mason-bot locks him down in a figure 4 headlock and slaps that gorgeous, alabaster ass of Forrest’s (which I STILL say ought to have won Best Butt last year). And then there’s “Kill Mode,” in which Mason-bot turns full on sadistic heel, relishing in Forrest’s screams and pleas, ignoring his submissions, hell bent on humiliating his new “owner” relentlessly. “Do you feel humiliated, Forrest?” Mason-bot asks woodenly, schoolboy pinning him and smothering him in his crotch, as Forrest writhes and screams and kicks in terror. Holy fuck, yes, I’m definitely along for the ride at this point.

When the boys finally discover how to turn on “Erotic Mode,” everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) is firing on all cylinders. Full throttle, no pretense muscle worship. “Would you like me to flex my biceps while you grab my pecs,” Mason-bot asks woodenly. Holy shit, these guys convince me completely that they’re fucking into each other, right around the time Forrest tells his buddy Freddy to get the fuck out of the matroom and let them get down to business in private. Beautiful, excited, earnest as fuck cocks come out. Mason-bot slams Forrest down into an OTK and starts to jack him off hard and fierce. When he slams him to the mat, Mason(bot) sits on Forrest’s face and pounds his own throbbing cock into the lucky, sexy-ass leprechaun’s chest.

It’s fucking hilarious. Mason, Forrest, and Freddy are fucking hilarious, and the scene is outrageously hilarious. And I get it. That could be a buzz kill, but it most certainly wasn’t for me. It was sensationally clever, telling a story that unpacks homoerotic pro wrestling tropes, turning formulaic, gimmick-free(ish) wrestling on its head, and turning up the heat with something entirely novel, self-consciously iconoclastic, and intensely erotic. I laughed. I was wildly turned on. And I got off repeatedly, all the while feeling like I understood myself and my relationship to homoerotic wrestling just a little better.

“You talked a big game online…”

Forrest Taylor says he isn’t impressed when Brendan Byers climbs into the ring in Babyface Bash 2. But he should be. And between you and me, I’m pretty sure Forrest is lying. “You looked taller and stronger online,” he says dismissively. “I was expecting some great big giant.” There’s a pull of gravity to the massive muscles towering over sexy little Forrest though, that I just don’t quite believe he isn’t feeling. When Forrest flexes his own hot, lean biceps proudly, Brendan steps up and flexes one of his own huge, mountainous peaks, and I swear to the homoerotic wrestling gods, the little guy’s entire head disappears behind it.

I’ve mentioned before the remarkably persistent, nay relentless commentary that Forrest pulls out at EVERY occasion. I’m a HUGE fan of trash talk, and pillow talk, and villainous monologing, and, well, wrestling text of all sorts. So it’s saying something when even I have to say, “Will someone shut Forrest up!?” On this day, in that ring, that someone is big, bad, brutal Brendan Byers!

I don’t want to be misunderstood, mind you. Fuck, Forrest is a tasty fucking treat! He was on my nomination form for multiple categories for the BG East Besties, and hands down, he was my top pick for Best Butt this year. In a homoerotic wrestling universe dominated by huge muscle monsters and physique stars, there’s just something about his gorgeous quads and that insanely round, mouthwatering bubble butt, that would make me pick him out of a crowd of hotties every fucking time. Hell, I’m even a huge fan of his beard, despite the inordinate amount of attention he constantly draws to his, admittedly, impressive facial hair. Lest I be painted as a hater, let me declare unequivocally that I am a Forrest Taylor fan.

But holy fuck, is it satisfying watching him get the living SHIT kicked out of him by Brendan Byers! Forrest also demonstrates why I voted for him to retain his title as Jobber of the Year for another year, by egging on his own corporal punishment with unbelievably cocky trash talk, even while he’s getting buried under the mountain of muscle crushing down on him. Literally, Brendan his choking him with his own suspender and riding him HARD in a camel clutch, and Forrest is snarling and spitting, “You ain’t shit.” Fuck, talk about asking for it. Fuck, talk about DEMANDING it!? It’s sort of the definition of “heel bait,” as his plucky defiance makes the muscle bear ripping him apart limb by limb that much hotter and fiercer. Brendan drags his nose across the side of Forrest’s face, breathing in deeply, absolutely intoxicated by the aroma of defiantly hopeless jobber wafting up at him. He throws him to his stomach and mounts that ass that got my vote, grinding his hips, holding him by the hair, and announcing convincingly “You’re mine, boy!”

My fellow Scotsman gets a little riding time, thanks to a savage punch to Brendan’s balls. But when Forrest mounts his own “revenge” camel clutch, giving it everything he’s got, Brendan literally smirks, “That tickles.” When Forrest snaps on face-to-crotch headscissors, it makes me wonder if I ought to have nominated him for best bulge. But it also has this pretense of twink dominance, all the while, I’m pretty convinced, it’s doing NOTHING but making big Brendan build up a whole new, bigger, harder head of steam.

A few highlights that grab me by the balls include the absolutely devastating series of pounding over-the-knee backbreakers that make me think for a moment there that Forrest was actually broken. Forrest pummeled while trapped in the ropes is exquisite. Somewhere in the melange of the sound of the red headed hunk’s panicked whimpers paired with the sight of his alabaster, fucking impressively built quads hanging there uselessly, I am seriously turned on!

A little over 17 minutes in, and Forrest loses the red and white stripped briefs he’d had on under his tartan, and, damn it all, that’s a fucking hot, bearded, booted naked man getting his sensational ass handed to him again and again and again! He fights it at every turn. He refuses to accept the inevitable, and that’s SO fucking adorable. “I told you all that shit talk would come back to bite you in the ass, didn’t I,” Brendan points out, mounted on Forrest’s naked ass and yanking his head back with a handful of fiery red hair. “Yes, yes,” Forrest gasps, with pleading in his breathless voice.

The reverse inverted bearhug with Forrest’s entire head shoved inside of Brendan’s pouch is epic, but fuck, I’m going to feast for days on the naked bearhug and wears that buttle butt out so gorgeously. So, sure, I’m going to keep bitching about Forrest’s relentless trash talk, because he’s asking for it, right? He wants to irritate, doesn’t he? There’s a devious, clever angle there, where every heel, and at least this reviewer, fucking sees RED under the constant onslaught of Forrest’s bluster, pretty much guaranteeing his total destruction again and again.

Fucking brilliant!

Fresh Meat

In between the time I was last blogging with some regularity and today, a lot of shit has gone down (<- understatement of the century). As a result, there are some fresh faces (, jobbers, and heels) on the scene that I’ve not obsessed over here, though that’s certainly not to say I haven’t obsessed over. So let me, in brief, highlight some of the relatively fresh meat that is long overdue for me to adore in print. Honestly, my bandwidth has been pretty limited to BG East and indy pro available on YouTube, with a couple of glances over at HunksWrestling because they’ve been recruiting some fucking dazzling specimens lately. So, this isn’t a representative sampling of all the homoerotic potential to hit the scene in the past year and half, just where my time and attention has drawn my focus. Please feel free to add in the comments that rookies and sophomores from other companies that I’ve failed to mention.

Forrest Taylor (those fucking thighs!!!)

First of all, Forrest Taylor. Holy fuck. It felt to me like this hunk came out of nowhere to suddenly catapult to my top 5 favorite wrestlers. Honestly, he’s the perfect size for me. Compact, fit as a fiddle, and so. damn. pretty. Everything below the neck was carved by Michelangelo, and everything above the neck is porn-ready lumberjack. I didn’t know how much I was missing a red-headed, bushy-bearded, never-say-die twink scrapper, until I caught sight of Forrest. I could (and probably will, sooner or later) wax poetic about his physique, but it would be criminal not to immediately mention here that he’s got an astonishingly gorgeous ass. Like, astonishing. I nominated him for last year’s Debut of the Year. I voted for him as Debut of the Year. And he won Debut of the Year (and Jobber of the Year… he was my second choice in that category). I’ve loved his work in Wrestleshack 27, Ring Rookies 6, and most recently, Ring Singlets 1.

Lobo Gris

Lobo Gris is really seasoned fresh meat. I’ve followed him on social media well before seeing him grace the ring and mats of BG East, so he was so familiar and tantalizing from the start. He’s got a 70’s porn star body, with an effortlessly impeccable hairy torso and an irresistibly yankable bushy black coif. So fucking handsome, and an incredibly sexy, aggressive, confident persona. I know that he was unmasked in his debut masked match, but I really, really want to advocate, in the strongest possible terms, for a suspension of the masked luchador rules that say once unmasked, a wrestler doesn’t don the mask again. He turned up my temperature when I watched him wrestle Forrest in Wrestleshack 27, and made me dizzy with lust in his sweat soaked corporal lesson in cultural humility with Mason Brooks in Gear Wars 9.

Freddy Campbell (and the face he stole off of a 1950’s television puppet)

It took a little while, but Freddy Campbell as grown on me. Initially, when he was so ridiculously green, I was resenting him for riding his BF’s coattails into some prime time BG East matches. But damn it all, I keep watching him in match after match, and he keeps sending me harder and harder. He’s doesn’t have the whittled, rock hard physique of so many of the homoerotic wrestling stars, but he’s got that lush, targetable ass and that ridiculously cute (like, surreally sexy Howdy Doody) face that constantly screams for someone to pound him into a pulp. You can watch him objectively growing in confidence and skill across his BG East matches over the past many months, which is sort of intoxicating, in and of itself. I was still hating him in his Backyard Brawl 14 match, but I’ve gone back to it again, with new eyes, and new appreciation, and can’t help myself but enjoy it on repeat. I really learned to love him when he got the full-on Mason Brooks treatment in Wrestleshack 27, and Gear Wars 9 far outpaced my expectations (because I’m pretty lukewarm on soccer), in large part due to watching Freddy saddle up on offense.

Finally, for this post at least, I feel the need to mention John Wolfboy. I know he’s not new to homoerotic wrestling, having appeared for quite a while in at least a couple of other companies. So you probably already knew him, and had formed your opinions about him, long before me. But I was seriously delighted to see him show up at BG East in the past several months and pit that whipcord lean body against some of the reigning bad boys. He seems to have gleefully stepped/stomped onto the hornets nest of heel daddies and their dutiful boys/boyfriends. With the beard and wavy brown hair, he sports a hypermasculine vibe, paired evocatively with a lightweight, junior varsity physique. He has that special talent that I’ve only noticed in a couple of other wrestlers before, to look like he’s got skinny arms one moment, and then to flex, and BOOM… out of nowhere, appear these lovely, meaty, peaked biceps. What brand of devilish sorcery is this?! And does the Wolfboy do worship sessions (asking for a friend)? I first sort of felt bad for his bruising, upperclassmen beatdown (especially considered it was his BGE debut) of Freddy in Backyard Brawls 14, though watching Kayden step in and piss along the borders of his territory (burying Wolfboy under) was poignant. Watching the through-story (fuck, I love a through-story) play out, as Freddy’s BF defends his honor by taking Wolfboy on in the ring, followed by Ash’s heel mentor, Kayden showing back up for another pissing contest, was incredibly successful story telling, as far as I’m concerned. And fuck, can W-boy take, and dish out, a brutally sexy beating!

I’ve got a longer list of fresh meat to laud, but I’ll push publish now, so that I can get on with some other projects that I’m excited to share here soon. In the meantime, let me know who’s been turning your eye lately.