Drake Reborn: Part 3

In Drake Reborn: Part 2, things were looking bad for everyone’s favorite jobber Drake Marcos. Knowing Drake, getting pec smothered by the beefcake archangel Gabriel would surely test his will to keep fighting. But then again, the star of this piece of homoerotic wrestling fiction is not the Drake we’ve come to know and love. And now the climactic finale…
……………
Drake Reborn – by Bard
Part 3
There’s a sudden burst of energy and struggle. It’s hard to see exactly what’s going on because fucking Billy keeps stepping in front of me, but when I lean over far enough to the right, I see Drake hoisting Gabriel up way, way off his feet in a bearhug. Fuck, yes! I barely resist the urge to applaud.
Drake comes stutter-stepping out of the corner with his opponent writhing like a trapped animal. He arches his back, hoisting Gabriel still higher off his feet. Gabriel’s thick legs splay wide apart. Abruptly, Drake lunges forward, pounding Gabriel’s tailbone squarely across his right knee in an exquisite atomic drop. Gabriel actually screams. No acting in that high pitched wail!
Drake’s earlier “breather” had to have been a ruse, because he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking fresh as a sweaty daisy right now. He drives a drilling knee squarely into the center of Gabriel’s thickly muscled back, and again, the Brit wails. There’s no hesitancy. No interruption in Drake’s momentum at all as he hops into the air and drops the back of his right thigh squarely into the back of Gabriel’s head. I wince involuntarily. I’m not sure if Gabriel’s pretty face is going to look nearly so pretty in a moment.
Drake is on fire now, steam rolling all over the bulging Brit. There’s no self-congratulations. No distraction. He moves with smooth confidence, dragging Gabriel up to his knees just so he can land a swinging knee to the pretty boy’s face, flinging him back to the mat in a heap. All of those pretty, pretty fresh muscles on Drake scoop Gabriel up off the mat like a child, swinging him high and slamming him with total authority to his back. Gabriel’s lower back arches in agony instinctively, and fuck it all if Drake doesn’t drive his heel viciously down into the cherub’s lower abs, pounding him back to the mat again.
With uncharacteristic (newly characteristic?) deliberateness, Drake grabs Gabriel’s ankles and rolls him to his stomach. Straddling all of that hot, hot muscle, Drake squats low in a Boston crab, leaning way back and making the Brit literally scream in pain. Drake’s face is fucking glowing, and it’s not just the sweat. He makes eye contact with me, briefly, and that over-the-top, handsome as fuck grin stretches across his face. It’s a good thing the Boss didn’t forbid me from grabbing my crotch, because there’s no stopping me at the moment. Gabriel slaps the mat furiously, screaming, “I give! I give! I give!” Drake ignores him a good long while, just making the pretty boy suffer like his bitch.
I can tell the production crew are going crazy for the action, because Billy and Jonny are crossing in front of me repeatedly, getting every angle of the action they can. So I’m not exactly sure how Gabriel ended up racked across Drake’s shoulders, but I’m thrilled to the core to watch  our former jobber claw the fuck out of the Brit’s balls, yanking on his chin with the other hand, bending the petite powerhouse like a twist tie around his neck. Angel boy is screaming again. I’m not sure if it’s a submission, but I don’t think Drake is caring either way.  He bounces on the balls of his feet, and Gabriel’s screams are comically punctuated with involuntary gasps. I’m sure it’s a submission. I’m equally sure, it’s not going to matter.
Drake unceremoniously dumps his quivering opponent backward off his shoulders. Gabriel’s muscled body slams to the mat like dead weight. Drake’s lightly hairy chest heaves, but he’s far from exhausted, I can tell. A half second later, Drake is grinding the ball of his right foot into the Brit’s temple, pinning the side of his face to the mat. “Take off your trunks!” Drake barks. I swear to god, I’ve never heard that voice before. Where the fuck did that voice just come from? It’s about half an octave deeper, with a lifetime of viciousness behind it. It’s like nothing I’ve ever heard come out of Drake’s mouth before.
“Fuck… You!” Gabriel sputters, trying to shove Drake’s foot away. Jonny has one knee up on the ring apron now, clearly zooming his camera in to capture the humiliation. He’s also obstructing my view again, god damn it.
I can’t see exactly what’s happening when Drake bends forward, but soon enough, he has Gabriel’s hot, muscled body stretched out deliciously in a full nelson. The Brit starts to fight it, muscling his arms downward to break the hold. Drake nips that in the bud by suddenly slamming Gabriel face-first into the nearest turnbuckle, still locked down on that sensational full nelson. The muscle cherub’s eyes roll into the back of his head as Drake pulls him out of the corner.  Fuck, I think he may have just passed out there for a second.
Drake parades the muscleboy around the ring, grinding his crotch violently against the Brit’s ass.  He pauses at the next turnbuckle to pound that pretty, pretty face once again.  Gabriel’s knees buckle, but Drake hoists him back up and around the ring again.  All four corners get the pleasure of tenderizing that legendary baby face. I’m pretty sure his nose isn’t broken, but there are dark bruises starting to form around the Brit’s eyes and cheeks.
Finally, Drake flings his prey into the center of the ring again. Gabriel kneels there on his hands and knees, teetering forward and backward like he’s about to collapse or vomit. “Take… off… your… trunks!” Daemon commands in that same voice that grabs me by the base of the balls.
Gabriel is sucking on air now, so it takes a few second for him to finally swallow the pain and humiliation just enough to quietly whisper, “fuck…. you.”
Drake place kicks the kid in the ribs so hard that Gabriel is lifted off his hands and knees and sent sprawling to his back at the edge of the ring. Drake follows without pause, hooking his right foot under Gabriel’s shoulder and kicking him underneath the ropes and tumbling off the ring apron to the floor below, just a few feet in front of me.
Billy backs up so quickly to keep Gabriel in frame that I think he’s going to sit in my lap. Not that I mind. The kid’s got a sweet ass. But fuck, I want to see what’s happening! Between Billy and Jonny, I just catch glimpses of Drake tying Gabriel’s arms in the ropes, his hot muscles hanging like meat in a butcher’s window. Drake strokes the muscle cherub’s pecs. He pinches Gabriel’s nipples, and the Brit gasps quietly, a gentle smile on his face. Clearly, Drake abruptly applies considerably more pressure, because suddenly Gabriel cries out in pain.
Without warning, Gabriel lifts his legs and snaps them around Drake’s torso. Drake cocks his right fist to cut this shit out pronto, but he freezes in mid-swing as Gabriel squeezes hard. Drake gasps, his eyes flutter shut. Oh, fuck, that’s hurting. Gabriel’s thighs are incredible to watch, flexing, grinding. His arms are still trapped in the ropes, but if he keeps this up long enough, he may just suck the momentum right out of my fight boy.
No worries. Drake claws the Brit’s balls so helpfully perched right in front of him. Gabriel’s scissors fall apart in a wail of screams.  He bucks and bounces in the ropes, twisting his hips in a completely vain attempt to escape the ball trap latched onto him. Drake leans in close, his face inches away from Gabriel’s, twisted in agony. Tears, seriously, tears are squeezing out of the Brit’s swollen, bruised face.
Drake pries the ropes apart and Gabriel sags to a motionless heap on the ring apron.  Thankfully, Billy and Jonny head around the corner to get better angles on the action as Drake drags the muscle cherub by the hair back into the ring. Smooth as silk, Drake scoops the baby face Brit up like a rag doll, holding him there across his chest for what seems like hours. Drake’s hot, hairy thighs glisten with sweat, bulging and flexing gorgeously. Then he slams the boy to his lower back again. Gabriel whimpers, his back arched high, the back of both hands clutching at his throbbing lower spine.
0214_lg“Now,” Daemon growls from whatever pit of hell he’s possessing Drake’s body. “Take… off… your… trunks.”  Gabriel groans incoherently for a while, rolling to his side. I’m not sure if he’s even registering what’s been said. But he must, because he reaches down with both hands, hooking his thumbs inside the top of his trunks and slowly dragging them down his massive thighs.  He’s got a heather jock strap on underneath.
Holy shit, the jock strap doesn’t last long. Drake rips it off violently. There are strings of elastic and shredded cotton everywhere, but nothing is actually attached to Gabriel’s body any longer. He’s perfectly, gorgeously naked, flat on his back, staring up at Drake.
“You’ve never met anything like me before,” Daemon hisses. I swear, it sounds like steam pipes, there’s so much pressure, such vicious intensity behind every word. “My name is Daemon. And I’m here to drag your beautiful ass back to hell with me.”
Gabriel is weeping! Jesus, Drake’s doing a mind fuck on this kid. He’s seriously terrified.
“Say my name,” Daemon snarls.
“Daemon,” Gabriel gasps, almost a whisper.
“Say my name!” Daemon barks louder, planting his right foot on Gabriel’s chest and staring down into his face. The grin stretched across his face looks maniacal now!
“Daemon!” Gabriel shouts through sobs. He reaches up, pleadingly stroking Drake’s calf. Gabriel’s legendary anaconda is fully engorged and also weeping.
gabriel2Drake drags him up by the hair to a seated position, quickly kneeling behind him.  He wraps his right bicep across the muscle cherub’s throat. With a sudden jerk, he locks down hard, making Gabriel’s tear-filled eyes snap open wide.
I can’t hear what Daemon is saying. It’s a low murmur, cooing, demanding directly into Gabriel’s ear as he locks down the blood flow to the Brit’s brain. Billy obviously wants to get the words on the record as well, because he’s climbing up to the ring apron and zooming in, as close as he can. Is Gabriel being commanded to start stroking his mammoth cock, or is he just being driven over the edge by the mesmerizing words of his opponent?
drake2What the fuck ever! Gabriel’s starting to pound out his gargantuan member with both hands, and it’s truly epic! With Drake choking him out, it doesn’t take long at all for the cherub to explode. I don’t realize that my mouth is hanging open in awe until I notice that Drake is staring right at me, still bearing down on his fading opponent, but looking, fixed, right into my eyes.
A half a minute later, and Gabriel’s arms fall limply to the mat. His abs and pecs are coated in his own cum. Drake drops him to his back roughly and crawls on top of him, saddling into a schoolboy pin. He leans forward, his crotch grinding into the unconscious kid’s face, and slaps the mat.  “One!”  He takes a good, long time, face fucking the fallen angel enthusiastically, before slapping the mat again.  “Two!”
Holy fuck!  Holy fuck!
“Three!” Drake slaps the mat one last time before leaning back and flexing his beautiful, fresh biceps for Billy and the camera.
Holy fuck.  Drake just turned heel.
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 ——–Just the Beginning———-

Drake Reborn: Part 2

In Drake Reborn: Part 1 you read about my picking up the pieces of a shattered Drake and trying to glue him back together. The plot turns to a grudge match of demons and angels and the making (or unmaking?) of a BG East wrestler.
——–
Drake Reborn – by Bard
Part 2
I flew home the next day, but we stayed in touch. Emails, texts, chats. He’d ask me what that reinvented, heel Drake would do. And I’d tell him. And then, unbelievably, he’d fucking do it!  He was in the gym 5 days a week. He tossed out his boxer briefs and twink-tastic Banana Republic button downs. He started blogging again, fully giving voice to the iconoclastic, loud mouthed, fierce, trash talking troublemaker that I’d only hinted at. He sent me video clips of himself, practicing calling out BG East’s finest, insulting Kid Vicious, taunting Jonny Firestorm, telling Kid Leopard to kiss his ass. Yep. I totally got off to those videos.
And week in and week out, I couldn’t help but notice that Drake was looking sensational. He’d put on some sweet muscle before that train wreck with Trey, but damn. A little blogger-inspired reinvention looked fucking great on the kid. After a couple of months of Bard boot camp, I honestly wouldn’t have recognized him. Which is what inspired me to pitch The Boss.
Gabriel Ross was Drakes very first first opponent, back when he was an overly tanned, quiveringly anxious newbie a few years ago. Drake put some sensational hurt on the pint-sized muscle cherub, but in the end, Drake was on his knees and completely at the Brit babyface’s mercy. Who better for Daemon to face, to demonstrate that this is a whole new wrestler, than Drake’s original tormentor?
———–
So here we are, me and Drake in a bathroom at BG East’s Boston-area facilities. BG East doesn’t “do” managers, so it took still more fast talking, negotiations, and, yes, flattery for me to be permitted to come along for the ride.  Drake insisted on it, though. I think his internal image of his new wrestling persona may be a little more fragile than I thought. He’s still relying on me to reflect back to him this vision of a confident, cocky, balls out bad boy that he’s been trying on for the past 4 months. 
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Drake or Daemon?

The bathroom door flies open. “Let’s get a look at this Daemon,” Kid Leopard smirks, strolling in without knocking, of course. There’s just a momentary twitch across the Boss’ face, and I’m convinced that he’s surprised and impressed with what he sees. Drake looks sensational, and the solid black square cut trunks he’s pulling on are sexy as fuck. “Well, you’d better wrestle better than you look,” Kid Leopard snarls with contempt. His lingering look at Drake’s ripped abs tell an entirely different story.

On command, I’m following The Boss out of the bathroom, down the hall, and into the BG East ring room. Jonny Firestorm is already there, setting up equipment with some hot twink I’ve never seen before. Kid Leopard barks at them to hurry the fuck up. Time is money. We’re wasting daylight. On and on, he rides them, and I’m pretty certain they’d be done a lot sooner if he didn’t keep distracting them.
I’m instructed to sit on a couch and remain abso-fucking-lutely silent. “The moment I hear a peep out of you,” Kid Leopard wags a finger in my face threateningly. “We’re making an unprecedented exception to let you watch. But if you fuck up the taping with so much as a sneeze, I’ll drag you by the balls out of here!” I acquiesce. It’s not as if I’m going to cross the Boss in his own ring.
A few minutes later, Kid Leopard is sitting on the couch next to me. Jonny and the hot twink (I’m told his name is Billy), work the equipment. Billy has a shoulder mount video recorder running, and Jonny has a wicked looking digital camera up to his eye when Kid Leopard suddenly shouts, “And… GO!”
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The Muscle Cherub

A few seconds later, Gabriel Ross walks through the door. Holy shit, this kid is insane to look at! He’s shorter than I am, which is saying something, but good fucking God! He’s huge! I mean, I’ve seen his massively muscled-up body on camera before, but honestly, he’s breathtaking. His massive pecs shake a little as a walks to the ring and steps up to the ring apron. As he climbs through the ropes, I stifle a gasp at the full-on view of his magnificently muscled ass straining the seams of his tantalizingly tight trunks. They’re the same yellow swim trunks he wore in his first match with Drake. His glorious glutes bulge out over the top of them as he slowly walks barefoot  across the ring, stretching his arms behind his back, hopping on the balls of his feet, warming up all of that gorgeous muscle mass.

Holy fuck, what have I got Drake into? I think to myself.
Jonny’s clicking that digital camera like a machine gun. Billy keeps crossing back and forth in front of me, clearly studying every juicy inch of the muscle cherub in the ring. It’s annoying, but I know that my unobstructed view is the last priority on anyone’s mind.
A minute later, Drake strolls through the door. He pauses on the short steps leading down to the ring room floor. Fuck, he’s pulsing with cocky confidence. He purses his lips and tilts his head to the side, staring at his opponent. “Time to settle up, Gabriel,” he growls. Walking to the ring and stepping up onto the ring apron.
“You again?” Gabriel asks, as if shocked. He’s not, of course. He knew who his opponent was going to be. But the feigned shock is just part of the story. “Didn’t I already beat your ass?” There’s something about a British accent that makes trash talk sound like poetry.
Drake climbs through the ropes and strolls in a circle around the ring. Gabriel backs away, keeping out of reach for the time being.
“That guy’s gone,” Drake coos almost seductively. “You’ve never met me. You’ve never met anyone quite like me,” Drake promises. My cock’s hard a granite.
They suddenly lunge toward one another, locking up by collar and elbow. Drake is half a foot taller than the muscle cherub. Gabriel struggles with those relatively long arms, until suddenly Drake reverses momentum, stepping backward and pulling Gabriel toward him.  Off balance, the British babyface stumbles forward. Drake shoves him in the back of the head toward the ropes. Gabriel slams into the top rope awkwardly, bouncing backward and falling to his ass.
This is Gabriel’s first ring match, as far as I know, and it shows. Drake is on him, dragging him to his feet and shoving those gargantuan pecs of Gabriel’s, sending the muscle boy slamming backward into the turnbuckle.  He looks like he’s expecting to get the same bounce out of the corner that he got from the ropes a moment earlier. The agony twisted across his beautiful face suggests that he’s just learned the hard way that a turnbuckle doesn’t “give” the same way the ropes do.
When Gabriel steps out of the corner, arching his back in pain, Drake steps in front of him, turns, and reaches over his shoulder to grab the Brit by the back of the neck. The snap mare is smooth and sweet like honey. Fuck, I can’t help myself.  I gasp audibly, just a little, when Gabriel finally lands flat on his back in the middle of the ring. Fortunately, the muscle cherub’s loud cry of pain drowns out my shocked pleasure.
Drake really does look like a new man as he’s instantly on one knee, the other knee digging into Gabriel’s spine as Drake wrenches his head backward in a sick chin lock. A deep, guttural groan comes from Drake. It’s eager and intense, like a grunt of pleasure mid coitus. My cock is throbbing in response.
He keeps bending his opponent backward until Gabriel is arched high across his knee. Suddenly, Drake pounds a vicious forearm across the muscle cherub’s big, bulging pecs, driving the Brit’s back down hard across his knee one more time. Gabriel cries out in honest to god agony before Drake lets him roll like a sack of potatoes to the mat.
Drake is breathing a little harder than I would have expected so soon. He has his hands on his hips as he takes a slow lap around his opponent’s crumpled body. There’s a missed opportunity here for him to press his advantage. When he finally leans over and grabs a handful of Gabriel’s hair, dragging him up to his knees, I can see it in the Brit’s eyes. That breather Drake took was just as beneficial to Gabriel. Suddenly, Gabriel drives up to his feet while he wraps his huge, muscled arms around Drake’s torso.  With an animal grunt, the cherub leans backward, pulling his taller opponent off his feet briefly in a powerful bearhug.
There’s a cry of pain that gets stuck somewhere in the back of Drake’s throat as his mouth gapes open. Gabriel can’t manage to hold him off his feet for long. The height difference is just too much for him. When Drake’s feet touch the canvas again, he sucks down a sudden gasp of air. He starts to try to squeeze his hands between his torso and Gabriel’s crushing biceps. I’m relieved he’s still working through the pain, move and counter.
Neither I nor, clearly, Drake are expecting it when Gabriel suddenly sprints forward. Drake is again swept off his feet in that sensationally powerful bearhug. The Brit has built up some momentum by the time he’s pounding Drake’s back into the turnbuckle. The explosion of air out of Drake’s lungs is almost comical. “Ooooof!” If Drake didn’t suddenly choke on a sob of pain and collapse to his knees, it might have been at least momentarily funny.
drake21“No,” Gabriel chuckles, staring down at the dazed stud on his knees in front of him, “now I distinctly remember you being right here once before.” He grabs the back of Drake’s head with both hands and shoves his face into his body. Even on his knees, Drake’s mouth comes mid-chest to the bulging muscle cherub standing in front of him. Gabriel smothers him there, deep in the crevice between his massive pecs. I can hear Drake grunting, struggling for air. He presses his hands against Gabriel’s hips, attempting to pry his face away, but the Brit holds him in place with a vice-like grip. About 30 seconds of pec smothering in, and Drake’s arms start to go slack. Oh, fuck.
0308_lg-1Slowly, Gabriel drags Drake’s slackening face down his torso. Drake’s lips stretch and twist across the pronounced ridges of Gabriel’s abs. Down, down Gabriel presses his opponent’s face until Drake his hunched forward, his mouth pressed hard against the muscle cherub’s big bulge. Holy shit. HUGE bulge! Gabriel’s legendary cock is visibly growing right before my eyes. Well, most immediately, it’s growing right before Drake’s lips. Gabriel’s head rolls backward, his eyes closed, obviously getting stoked to the edge. Fuck, they look like both of them may very well ditch the wrestling and just start fucking. Not that I’d mind watching that. But…come on, wrestling!
——–to be continued——–

And the winner is…

The awards show that turns my crank this season is of course, the announcement of the BG East Best of 2014 polls.  Well, technically there is no “show,” although I think there should be. Hot contenders show up on the red carpet. Winners announced. Rip ‘n’ strip wrestling breaks out all over the place. Me, with a gallon of baby oil, standing nearby to keep things moving along nicely.  Short of that, let’s take a look at the matches that rose to the top of the rankings of BG East fans and voters.

drakesexy

For sexiest match, voters swung toward X-Fights 38, with Drake Marcos and Lorenzo Lowe taking it all wonderfully too personally. I don’t have any problem at all with this victory, even though I finally decided it was Trey “Oscar” Dixon and Skrapper who demanded my vote. There’s a major bitter aftertaste to X-Fights 38, with Drake and LJL slapping down hard, angry resentment from start to finish, so voters seem to have a taste for the passionately punished grudge angle on for sexy this year.  I totally get that.

cammat

Best Mat Battle was awarded to yet another LJL match, this one against Cameron Matthews in Submissions 9.  I could see this coming from a mile way, even though my personal favorite was Drake and Mason’s brutal humiliation session in Passion & Punishment. Cam and LJL are first rate grapplers, stunning contortionist, and damn fine hunks that are a delight to watch, particularly with a liberal coat of sweat dripping off of them.  A second Best Mat Battle honor in a row for Cameron, who took the title with Eli Black last year.  Total winners.

genattosubmission

Voters picked Demolition 17 for Best Ring Match, with Guido Genatto crushing delectable Jake Jenkins, this year’s (and last year’s, and the year before that) Best Babyface. I’m not surprised my pick, Tag Team Torture 17 didn’t take it, but I am surprised the crowd when this direction. Unlike the best mat battle winner, Demolition 17 was total one-way brutality, which I always assume won’t speak to a significant segment of the voters. I think Z-Man & Kip Sorell have got to be picking their jaws up off the ground to be runners up for this one.

jonnysubmission

On the other hand, Best Squash winners Jonny Firestorm and Nicholas Rush for their Demo 17 match should just prove never, ever bet against Jonny Firestorm (or his fans). I called Jonny & Nicholas total dark horse contenders in this field, and the majority propelled them to the top of the heap.  This is a third Best Squash victory in a row for Jonny who seems to own this category as commandingly as he owns his babyface victims.  Which again begs the question for me why, oh why, was he not in contention for Best Heel this year?!  I also find all sorts of mixed signals about Demo 17’s Guido v JJ match winning for Best Ring and Best Submissions, but Demo 17’s Jonny v Nicholas pulling out Best Squash.  Fascinating, perplexing, but again, I say, another reminder to NOT best against Jonny Firestorm.

genattosquash

As I just mentioned, Demo 17’s Guido v JJ again won in the Best Submissions category.  As I’ve also mentioned, I’m not sure about exactly what this category is measuring, but I am surprised that this was the match that won.  Guido’s match in Demo 18 against newbie Kirk Donahue featured far more terrifying, humiliating, screaming submissions than this one. Cameron and LJL surely won best mat battle for the incredibly acrobatic and insanely hot and dangerous submissions both accomplished submission wrestlers slapped down on each other. And Wet & Wild 7 had submission flying between 5 different hot, wet hunks, including my personal favorite, Mason’s lips crushed against Trey’s balls poolside in a face-to-crotch headscissors.  But Guido & JJ?  Fantastic match, but I’m just out of step with the majority/plurality on this one.

rosslip

Best Liplock was awarded to Gabriel Ross & Christian Taylor in Wrestleshack 18.  I called this as an incredibly tight field, which I honestly found completely impossible to handicap. There wasn’t a loser among them, though I was blown over hardest by Drake & Ty in Babyface Brawl X and Trey and Skip in Gear Wars 4. However, I’ve never failed to dehydrate whenever I’ve watched Gabriel or Christian in action, and there’s something appropriate about BG East’s resident kisser-king, Christian, taking home this title.  Perhaps the key here is that this was Gabriel’s third taste of this title in a row, having won 2 years ago with his lips attached to Drake Marcos, and last year again with Kid Karisma. Fans clearly love watching Gabriel suck face, and I’d give a kidney to lock lips with Christian.

cameronbest

Looks like Guido & JJ nearly grabbed Best Match Overall, but they were runners up to Cameron & LJL’s Best Mat Battle of the year, Submissions 9.  There wasn’t a Best Match Overall category in 2012, but last year this award went to the Aryx Quinn and Alexi Adamov’s Ring Revenge.  I’m sort of excited to see this award getting doled out to both mat and ring matches over the years.  And I predicted Cam and LJL would take this title, despite my tastes lying with Drake v Mason and Trey v Skrapper.

The Demolition series, and particularly Demo 17, certainly was the big winner this year, with 3 victories.  Lorenzo “Jake” Lowe also has to be seen as a major league player for starring roles in Best Mat Battle, Sexiest Match, and Best Match Overall, despite being inexplicably absent from the individual wrestler awards. The other major story here seems to me to be the disconnect between best individual wrestler award winners (particularly Best Heel, Best Jobber, Best Debut) and the match awards.

One thing for sure, it was a stunningly hot, incredibly entertaining year in BG East wrestling! Handicapping the field and now going back to review the winners and losers is reminding me all over again what a sensational body of work BG East produced from start to finish in 2014.  Congratulations to all the winners, and if any of the losers need some full contact blogger consolation, just let me know. I’ll be happy to soothe, stroke, or knead out any sore spots you’re nursing. And if you haven’t fully appreciated all of these fine homoerotic wrestling matches, consider taking BG East up on the offer to send them your way for 25% off if you order before the end of the month!

And the nominees are…

Mere hours are left for you to register your votes for the 2014 BG East Besties. The last 4 categories I have to reflect on are what I think of as the most dramatic and titillating. Like saving “best picture” and “best actor in a leading role,” I’ve held off on reflecting on these because these mean most to me in any ways.  First up, let’s look at those who sold the most compelling characters this year, beginning with nominees for Top Heel.

morganheel
After a bumpy start in BG East his first go a couple of years ago, Morgan “the Mastodon” Cruise has been a perennial heel. Vicious, merciless, with no regard for life or limb, much less rules or good taste, he’s very on point at all times. His monologues tend to be constant, regardless of his opponent, and I long for new depths of sadism fro him. But he’s got a ton of fans.
guidoheel
Guido Genatto has a boatload of nominations for Best Ring Match, Best Squash, Best Submissions, Best Overall Match. He doesn’t just heel, he obliterates. He’s a steam roller who delights in cheating because, fuck, who’s going to try to stop him? Definition of a heel.
laneheel
Lane Hartley has so much swagger and he’s so damn pretty, he nearly slides out of heeldom when I picture him in my mind’s eye. He’s relentless and deeply sadistic. He takes great pleasure in the screams and tears of his victims.
karismaheel
My reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler Kid Karisma drips with contempt, supremely confident that his muscle and might will roll right over every victim placed in his way. I don’t think of him as a dirty tricks wrestler, because he’s just so fucking dominant, why would he need to rely on cheating? Sadistic as shit, yes, but the top heel?
thunderheel
Cage Thunder is a top shelf heel at all times, even though his appearances in 2014 were scarce. The mask, the body, that awesome cock… everything about him is perfectly tuned to inspire terror. He did what he does fabulously, but with just one match on the books this year, will he claim Top Heel of the year?

Shockingly, the reigning Top Heel the past two years running, Jonny Firestorm, was absent from this year’s slate. Was Jonny’s work somehow less dominant, less dastardly, less sadistic? With him suspiciously out of the way, however, someone is definitely taking the crown for the first time. I’m leaning toward Guido because of both quantity and quality of his matches. His trash talk alone is terrifyingly hot, but his muscle domination and indy pro heel superiority are absolutely soul crushing. I’m guessing fans will break his way or possibly Morgan’s. I think Cage Thunder is a long shot this year solely because he didn’t put up more evidence of his heel mastery in 2014, but he very well could be the sentimental favorite of long-time fans.

Top Jobber is crazy competitive this year. I would argue a jobber is not someone who just gets squashed, but someone who sells that he whole heartedly believes he has a fighting chance, even mounts some offense and keeps the suspense building, but sooner or later, inevitably goes down in crushing defeat. A jobber isn’t a pushover. He’s not a joke. He inhabits a full story arc, even if the outcome is as certain as the sunrise. You and I know a jobber is doomed from the start, but he doesn’t.  Let’s take a look at the contenders for this nuanced category.

tyjobber
Ty Alexander has been a house on fire his debut year. I think he’s a clear frontrunner for Debut of the Year, and he quickly developed the narrative of his legitimate skill and enthusiasm doomed to be crushed under foot. At times I wondered if his masochism was too far in front, if he wanted to be beaten so bad that he collapsed the suspension of disbelief. But he assembled an army of fans who I’m sure are behind him (because the view is so damn fine from back there).
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I got harassed for discounting Kirk Donahue’s qualifications to be in the Best Butt contention, so I realize I may be asking for it again when I say that, although he made my crotch stir hard with an epic sell jobbing in 2014, it was just one match. The suspense lasted about 17 seconds before Guido was grinding the kid into pulp, which he sold like a champ, but still, was it enough to say he was Top Jobber for 2014?
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Jake Jenkins carries so much water at BG East it’s amazing. Total top tier, multi-award winner babyface, he took major beatings in the ring in 2014 establishing a fantastic claim to be considered Top Jobber. Ignore his mat work. That’s a whole different JJ, and BGE deploys their boys in different genres with entirely different aptitudes. In the ring, though, in those “beat me” American flag trunks, he was an incredible jobber.
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Drake started the year first jobbing hard for Mason Brooks and then getting pissy with me for admiring what a hot jobber he is. The handsome jobber fucking HATES being called a jobber, which somehow merely makes it only that much more certain that he’s such… a… JOBBER. To top it off, after searching the ranks of bloggers to find someone he can finally beat, he still ended up in a tree of woe with my heel grinding into his defenseless chest. What a jobber…
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Kip Sorell is one tasty muscle jobber. His claim to Top Jobber seems clearer than his contention for Top Babyface, as I mentioned earlier. However, I’m not entirely sure Kip honestly believes at any point leading up to or during any of his matches that he has a snowball’s chance in hell. That makes him blur somewhere between a doomed character in a Greek tragedy (aka, a jobber) and a helpless victim of a mugging/attempted rape (aka, a farce). Fans love him every time he suffers hard, though.

Tough call, with a ton of blurry lines depending on exactly what you think and feel about jobbers in general.  Two-time winner Rio Garza was not nominated this year, leaving the field open for a first-timer to be guaranteed the crown. With the fond memory of him out cold, stripped naked, and with his trunks stuffed down his throat in the middle of the ring after coming face to face with a certain blogger, though, I have to punch Drake Marcos’ ticket (once again) for Top Jobber. I think his biggest competition for this one is Ty, with the difference being, in my mind, mainly the certainty that Ty would love to be Top Jobber, while Drake would hate it. Paradoxically, I think that gives Drake the edge here.  Long shot I think is JJ, mostly just because some people will vote for him regardless what the category is.  He’s so complex, though, and you have to partition out his mat work to fully justify him as Top Jobber.

Hottest Liplock may not be a category others think of as the top tier choice to make, but I fucking LOVE this category. Like “Best Submissions in One Match,” the context isn’t entirely clear.  A particular liplock? Perhaps not, since the nominees are just matches.  I love wrestling liplocks, though, so however you slice it, I’m so into this category.

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Babyface Brawl X was sexy as hell and a fantastic concoction of bitter aggression and full on sexual arousal, which is one of my favorite formulas. Drake and Ty were fighting for victory, for dignity, and most of all, for Drake’s trunks. Some of the hottest liplocks are NFSW, but every one left me wondering whether it would be interrupted by more bitter fighting, which makes everyone of them hot, hot, hot.
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Wrestle Shack 18 was full of full on homoerotic wrestling lust between Gabriel Ross and Christian Taylor. This was a fantastically sexy pairing, with tons of value added for the stark contrasts between their bodies. Christian is reigning kissing champion of BG East in my book, but I don’t know if Gabriel was as convincingly committed to the liplocks.
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Holy shit Trey Dixon and Skip Vance were on FIRE by the end of their Gear Wars 4 match. How no penetration appeared on camera is a mystery to me, because Skip’s rod is visibly throbbing and Trey looks like a starved man sitting at an Old Country Buffet. This particular jockstrapped, cock-sitting, body-scissors-oh-fuck-it-let’s-suck-face moment brings a tear of ecstasy to my eyes every time.
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Raunchy Rookies 7 saw the seismic double debut of Kayden Keller and Ty Alexander, putting up one of the sexiest, most explicit, fully erotic wrestling matches I’ve ever seen a rookie (much less two) manage. Kayden looks like he could eat the face off of adorable Ty, but the corporal domination leads ultimately to merely a double explosion in the middle of the ring. Sizzlingly hot liplocks, particularly once the gear is stripped.
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Pain & Punishment 1 has locked down a boatload of nominations all over the place, so yet again consider the fine eroticism of Mason Brooks squelching Drake Marcos’ screams of anguish with an intoxicating liplock. Not nearly as many liplocks in this bitter, bitter feud as for other contenders, but the aggressive, dominating, domineering face suck is enacted to perfection.

So many fantastic liplock moments that speak to the very heart of what moves me most about homoerotic wrestling! If I could vote for all of the nominees, I would, because they all rocked me dizzyingly hard. Just one, though? Fuck.  It’s razor close between Babyface Brawl X and Gear Wars 4. My vote finally goes to the homoerotic jobber wonder twins, Drake & Ty, whose Babyface Brawl X was incredibly innovative and pushed the envelope in all the right directions.  I have no idea what the majority will vote for in this category. I won’t be surprised for whoever wins, though I’m pulling for the jobber wonder twins.

Now for Best Overall Match of 2014…

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Guido Genatto once again complicates the field with two entries, first for Demolition 17 against Jake Jenkins. I don’t know if a squash is likely to win because of the constituency that just doesn’t like them, though this one was incredibly tasty.
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Demolition 18 found Guido again crushing another jobber like a grape, this time wunderkind Kirk “don’t-discount-my-ass” Donahue. This match definitely made me most genuinely concerned for the life and limb of a wrestler this year. Was it best overall?
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Mat wrestling entries for Best Overall Match include Passion & Punishment 1’s Trey Dixon v Skrapper. Intensely, intimately, shockingly erotic without an ounce of hot, hard, painful wrestling action spared. Incredible match. Totally legitimate finalist for this category.
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Yet another Pain & Punishment 1 entry is Drake Marcos getting schooled like a stubborn pup by sexy as hell philosopher king Mason Brooks. This match pushed all my buttons a lot. Awesome drama that extended well beyond the narrative on camera. Fantastic wrestling, awesome suffering, sweat, luscious bodies… I’m convinced, but I’m slightly surprised it pulled the nominating committee to include it.
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Pretty boy ring feast, Ring Hunks 2 makes a surprise entry here (as far as I’m concerned). Truly a watershed moment to watch Z-Man really come into his own and set the pace, control the tempo, and tell the story (not to mention fucking own every inch of Kip Sorell). Another squash though, making all 3 ring match entries in this category way one-sided. Not judgment on my part, just an observation.
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Submissions 9 puts in the last contender with Cameron Matthews and Lorenzo Jake Lowe chaining together one dizzyingly hot hold after another until everyone is coated in sweat (and most of us on this end of the screen coated in other bodily fluids). Highest quality mat wrestling, big egos, energizer bunnies, bitter aggression.

I’m fascinated that all three ring match entries are squashes. That, along with Guido’s double entry, really fucks with my confidence in predicting a frontrunner. My vote is going to Mason and Drake because of several factors, including Mason’s gorgeous naked ass, Drake’s horrified whimpers, bitter trash talk, a gallon of sweat, and the ball rolling that would lead to me snapping Drake’s photo flat on his back under my foot about 9 months later. Extremely close 2nd place for me is Trey and Skrapper. Holy fuck that’s one over-the-top hot, hard fought, insanely sexy match. My barely better than a random guess for the majority on this one is Cameron and LJL, mostly because of Cam’s fan following. I think long odds are on Guido & Kirk.

If you haven’t voted yet, this is your Bard approved final ballot to point your way to where my tastes take me:

Best Abs: Lon Dumont

Best Bulge: Pete Sharp

Best Butt: Kid Karisma

Best Body: Kid Karisma

Sexiest Match: Passion & Punishment 1 – Trey Dixon v Skrapper

Best Mat Match: Passion & Punishment 1 – Drake Marcos brought to whimpering tears by Mason Brooks

Best Ring Match: Tag Team Torture 17 – Dumont/Baynard v Reno/Walsh

Best Debut: Ty Alexander

Top Babyface: Denny Cartier

Best Squash: Jobberpaloozer 13 – Austin Cooper v Leo Tomasi

Best Submissions in One Match: Wet & Wild 7 – Trey Dixon’s face-to-crotch headscissors on Mason Brooks

Top Heel: Guido Genatto

Top Jobber: Drake “damn-it-I’m-not-a-JOBBER!” Marcos

Hottest Liplock: Babyface Brawl X – Drake Marcos v Ty Alexander (aka, the homoerotic jobber wonder twins)

Best Overall Match of 2014: Pain & Punishment 1 – Drake Marcos sniveling and choking like a jobber punk beneath Mason Brooks

It’s Political

My interest in professional football has primarily centered on a three-way ring wrestling fantasy in which Aaron Rodgers, Jordy Nelson, and Clay Matthews beat the living shit out of each other (obviously including extensive double-teaming by Aaron and Jordy), until they’ve all been stripped out of their trunks and the winner gets a blow job from one loser while he racks the other across his gargantuan shoulders (yep, you can pretty much guess who’s who). Actually following a season has been outside of my frame of reference for well over a decade, and actually paying attention to draft day has frankly never been on my radar. But it was hard not to notice Michael Sam getting drafted by the Rams and sucking face with his boyfriend in celebration. The kiss seemed a tad forced and uncomfortably choreographed to me. Nevertheless, it was hot.  For me.  Others were clearly offended. There were apparently the predictable junior high level “ewwwwws” from the un-self-reflected narcissists privileged to remain far too long in angst-ridden adolescent ignorance and knee jerk self-defensiveness around their own secret same-sex fantasies. There was the wildly hypocritical “shield my baby’s eyes” indignation from the same mothers who blissfully see no irony in wanting more guns in their children’s schools while earnestly believing that witnessing g-rated affection between consenting adults will scar their offspring permanently. And there’s the “homosexual agendaists” who whip themselves in sackcloth because of the “politicization” of sport, and sports television, and masculinity itself.  Whatever it means for football or football fans or sports television, the kerfuffle highlights the simple truth that persists regardless of where you stand: the personal is political. Oh, and two men kissing is sexy.

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Wrestleshack 18
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Pro Sex Fight 10
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X-Fights 35
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Pro Sex Fight 4
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Pro Tag Team Sex Battle 1
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Raunchy Rookies 7
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Passion and Punishment 1
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Lockerroom Sex Encounter
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Wrestle Shack 18
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Gazebo Grapplers 16

Hump Day

While I sort of despise the use of the phrase “hump day,” I have to admit today feels like a classic hump day.  Grinding hips, anticipatory pleasure, the fun of friction… yeah, I’m feeling it today.  Sort of like these studs…

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Drake Wild gets into the spirit, mounted atop Tyler St. James’ gorgeously muscled hump in Pro Sex Fight 10.
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Aptly named Gold Shaft wears down the crevices in Glacier Blue in Masked Mayhem 11.
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Immanently humpable Gabriel Ross makes the most out of long, lean, flexible Christian Taylor’s hot body, working a lip lock/hump combo in Wrestle Shack 18.

Friday Fashion

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Kid Karisma wore it best.

Yes, it’s another Saturday edition of Friday Fashions. By a vote of 84 to 34, my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler Kid Karisma trounced bulging newcomer Dylon Roberts for the title of who wore that low slung, made-for-erotic-wrestling singlet best. Right now, Kid K can do absolutely no wrong in my eyes, so this comes as not surprise to me.  The only thing that would be better would be to see the karismatic one bust onto a taping of Roberts back in that singlet and watch the ginger menace strip him naked and shove the singlet (among other things) down his throat. Get down on your knees and pucker up, Dylon, because you can kiss Kid Karisma’s award winning ass and admit what more than 70% of neverland readers recognize: he wore it best.

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In Kid Karisma’s Wrestler Spotlight, Gabriel Ross definitely appreciated the way Kid K wore that sweat soaked singlet!

So, homoerotic wrestling fashionistas, who else needs to go bulge-to-bulge to decide which hot hunk wore the same item of wrestling gear best?