Tag: Jobe Zander

Everything That Yet Could Be

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Cameron Matthews continues to carve out those abs and look more and more dangerous.

Can-Am is previewing in Can-AmMax a new pro wrestling-themed product that looks like it’s yet to be released. At least I can’t find it yet on the main page. I’ve been excited over the past year or two to see Can-Am return to the ring. Ring wrestling certainly isn’t the only thing that strokes my wrestling kink, but it’s the most dependable. This newest yet-to-be-release from Can-Am stars two of the most prolific studs in homoerotic wrestling, Cameron Matthews and Jobe Zander, starring in “Pro Challenge.”

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Jobe Zander and his most prominent muscle (hint: not the bicep)

Enjoying photo previews of soon-to-be-released matches feels a little like that giddy moment when you know someone well enough to ask them out on a first date.  There’s definitely something attractive about the glimpses Can-AmMax gives of Pro Challenge, but we have precious little to really go on.  So, in the meantime, we’re left to fantasize about what’s yet in store, what we’ll learn and witness and, hopefully, fall in love with when we get our eyes on the actual action. I feel confident that we can expect to see some all-in, extremely well-formed homoerotic wrestling characters, because both Jobe and Cameron have resumes longer than my arm proving that they know how to sell a story.  Based on the photos, both hunks look like they were in seriously fit shape for this taping.  Of course, it seems like a solid guarantee that there will be an abundance of trunk-spectacle, considering Cameron has one of the most eye-catchingly luscious asses in the business and Jobe has one of the most eye-catchingly packed pouches.

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The beautiful bubble butt and the notoriously massive dick.

Whether its implied or I’m projecting my hopes and desires, I fully anticipate this to be a highly entertaining, hard hitting, joint wrenching, ball busting, trunk pulling, trash talking extravaganza, considering the aforementioned arm-length resumes these two sport. Cameron has been on a bit of a bid to turn heel, which is an uphill (upheel?) battle for a hunk as babyfaced and bubble-butted as he is. Jobe, on the other hand, has been official heel-in-residence at Can-Am for quite a while now, ripping hot, pornboy musclestuds apart, piece by piece, generally starting with their balls.

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Jobe pulls the trunks and batters the babyface from behind. Such a heel…

If it were up to me, I’d love to see Jobe work up another wave of crushing, humiliating, cheating, vicious brutality all over the mouthwateringly hot bod of perpetually babyfaced Cameron for about 25 minutes of jaw-dropping, total-sell action.  I’d even give Jobe the green light to ham it up (because, really, who’s going to be able to restrain him from doing so?), even though he frequently tips right over the top into caricature that pulls me out of the fantasy a bit in past performances. Because after that 25 minute steam roll of beautiful Cameron, during which that monster crotch of Jobe’s would absolutely be required to press provocatively against Cameron’s glorious glutes in a ton of reverse bearhugs, back suplexes, and flat-out butt-humping, Cameron would finally get pushed over that elusive edge and go fucking nuts all over Jobe and his bieberesque Hollywood highlights.

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Had enough!? Cameron looks like he’s ready to rip Jobe’s face off!

Yes, I harbor a deep longing for Cameron to boomerang around that heel turn with a vengeance! And an epic heel turn like that, in the ring with such a loudmouthed, (quite literally) cocky bully like Jobe, would require some boundaries to be pushed.  For example, Jobe’s jackhammer has, as far as I’ve seen, never been seen. In my fantasy telling of Pro Challenge, Cameron goes ape shit all over the bleached blond badass and rips Jobe’s trunks off by the seams.  Don’t waist a Cameron heel turn on Jobe-as-usual, damn it!  Let’s see the contrapuntal epic jobber-turn for Jobe, crushed, humiliated, stripped, tied up, tied down, spread open wide, and face smothered by the most smotherable ass on the planet. Jobe’s been an oddly demure son of a bitch for having his hand down the trunks of so many hotly muscled pornboys. If ever there was a comeuppance due, I say it would be Jobe’s SoCal tanned bod naked, cornered, and forced to jerk himself off while Cameron keeps him teetering on the edge of being sleepered out cold.

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Suck on that, Jobe!

I know, I know.  The probability that just about any of my fantasy reading of the preview pics for Pro Challenge actually resembles the product to be released is almost non-existent.  Both Cameron and Jobe have kept at least a modicum of modesty (i.e., trunks or, at least, thongs) throughout their careers, again, as far as I’ve seen (please correct me if I’m wrong).  While Jobe’s been handily crushed a few times, particularly at BG East, Can-Am has been pushing him as quite the terrifyingly unstoppable heel, so messing with that momentum probably isn’t in the cards.

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Cameron’s been building both a fierce attitude and smokin’ hot muscles… but how far will that get him against Jobe?

But it could be.  It could be absolutely perfect.  It could be the perfect fit to my fondest fantasies. So despite disappointments in the past, I pluck up the courage and ask the hot studs so full of potential and possibility, “Wanna go on a date?”

Short Cuts

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I won’t name names, because that ALWAYS gets me in more trouble than it’s worth. I’ll just say that the same disappointing thought has occurred to me more than once recently as I’ve been sampling homoerotic wrestling new releases.  This recurring thought is, Grabbing crotch does not make wrestling homoerotic.

100% homoerotic wrestling featuring (among many other elements) Mitch Colby grabbing Derek da Silva’s crotch in Crotch Crushers 1.

Do you know what I mean? I’ve seen an anecdotal rise in the number of wrestling products marketed to you and me in which the most homo and/or erotic content is almost entirely limited to a crotch grab. Now, I love a nice crotch grab. That goes for all sorts of contexts and purposes, actually.  The feel of a pulsing, raging cock in my hand is absolutely intoxicating! Two raging cocks in my hand, and I’m guaranteed to have a hangover the next morning. I do not have anything at all against the homoeroticism of taking another man’s cock firmly in hand, per se.

Jobe Zander looks like he’s searching for his keys at the bottom of his purse in Can-Am’s DeCrotchery 3

But my beef, so to speak, is the over reliance on this device to sell wrestling as gay. I realize that there’s a sub-fetish contingent out there with a particular kink for watching and/or experiencing cock abuse. While I don’t count myself in that particular tribe, I can appreciate and get turned on by some cock control as a tool of soul crushing erotic domination. But if that’s really the only element in a match that might distinguish it from a TBS prime time mainstream episode of plasticized canned wrestling drama, then it’s just got one toe on our side of the fence, as far as I’m concerned.

Gino Liotta and Joshua Goodman engage in mutual crotch crushing as just one element of steamy action in Crotch Crushers 2.

Running across a bevy of barely homoerotic wrestling trying to take a short cut with crotch shots as credentials for checking in with you and me as gay-oriented has started to grate on my nerves.  So sure, you squeezed his balls… if you’ve got a disinterested look on your face, it sort of douses the heat. You grabbed a handful of whatever is stuffed down the front of his trunks, okay. But, if neither your hand nor his suffering seem to sell me that you’re about to rip him apart out of a primal lust to own his muscled body, then the stagecraft wears thin.

Friend of neverland, Ben Monaco, convinces me long before he goes for Alex Arias’ crotch that he’s all-in for homoerotic wrestling in Mat Rookies 1!

All this begs the question, of course, what it is that distinguishes some wrestling as homoerotic and others as something else. Of course, mainstream wrestling can turn me on (when it isn’t pissing me off with over-the-top homophobia). Just about any wrestling itself speaks to me as homoerotic almost by definition.  But I propose that there’s an ontologically different beast that is homoerotic wrestling. I’ve danced around this topic many times in the past. It’s a know-when-I-see-it sort of concept, in large part. It also overlaps with the cliche of “chemistry” between wrestlers, which is nearly impossible to quantify but, nevertheless, is unmistakable when its absent. I don’t know that I can put a finger on the baseline requirements (for me), but what makes something distinctively homoerotic wrestling always hits me on many levels.

Muscleboy Tyler St. James checks for a hernia in Pro Sex Fight 8.

Of course, explicit sexuality never hurts to sell wrestling as homoerotic. A suck, a fuck, a kiss even (especially), and I’m a long way to being sold that this wrestling is all about me and my kink. Hell, just having the boys talk openly about the eroticism hanging in the air between them is plenty to suck me in, and when it’s done right, eroticized banter will rev me up a hundred times hotter than an going-through-the-motions post-match fuck.

Reese Wells works 5 different angles at once in dishing out dominating abuse over  Jobe Zander’s package in Ball Busters 1.

It doesn’t require explicitness, though. It can be the fixed gaze of one wrestler and the self-conscious glance at the ground by the other that piques my homoerotic wrestling gaydar. It can be the intimacy of the setting, the gear, the lighting even, that contribute to making me recognize that this is homoerotic wrestling.  It can, and often is, one wrestler so narcissistic that he convinces me that, if humanly possible, he’d fuck himself into a stupor if that annoying opponent of his would just get the fuck out of his face.

Michael Vineland works the joystick from behind in Pro Sex Fight 8.

The best in the business push the homoerotic button from the instant the camera brings them into focus. Homoerotic wrestlers of the month Cage Thunder and (spoiler alert… keep reading at your own risk… oh, wait, too late!) Lightning Rod aka KV are beautiful examples. A half a second after I see their eyes lock onto the body of their opponents like sizing up a juicy filet, I understand without a doubt that the combat that’s about to unfold is first and foremost sexual. They communicate a hunger to grab hold of and consume their opponent that’s instantly arousing. The crotch grab is perfectly homoerotic when they latch on and threaten to rip an opponent out by the roots, because of everything else they’ve done to make it clear that they get off on this!

In Ball Bash 2, Reese Wells gets harder the more vicious Jonny Firestorm attacks his crotch! Now that’s homoerotic and hot!

There are plenty of wrestling products that push me way over the edge without ever veering into crotch grabs, fucking, or nudity even. They’re often completely homoerotic in my eyes for a dozen other elements that signal to me that this isn’t wrestling for 8 year-old boys with g-rated comic book fantasies of heroes and villains.  And equally as true, a gratuitous ball claw or tug at a cock is seldom the end-game for landing a wrestling match firmly within the circle of what I consider gay-themed, for gay eyes, wrestling kink, or homoerotic.

Unmasked and unsheathed, Stinger swells with excitement as Homoerotic Wrestlers of the Month Cage Thunder and Lightning Rod batter his stinger mercilessly.

As the photos I’ve attached to this post illustrate, the crotch grab is a delightfully hot tool in the tool belt of the accomplished homoerotic wrestler.  When it’s dished out in measured quantity, it’s fantastic! When placed as an integral component of an onslaught of unmistakably homoerotic content, the crotch grab is often precisely the point at which I lose all self-restraint. However, and I’m not naming names, but I just need to say it: solely based on a wrestler grabbing his opponent’s crotch, it doesn’t make it homoerotic wrestling. A one-trick pony gimmick in an otherwise lukewarm bath of run of the mill wrestling does not a homoerotic wrestling match make.

Chasing Rio

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JoshH gave me a heads up that Rio Garza, who competes in fitness competitions as Alan Valdez, won the Model Universe 2012 Overall title last week! Our little boy is all grown up, and just like legions of homoerotic wrestling fans, the fitness model world can’t take their eyes off of Rio’s ripped, gorgeous body. 

Reports are that Rio/Alan longs to be the most successful Mexican fitness model in history. While I’m no expert, I have to guess that he can check that box as he hoists his Model Universe trophy overhead. His proportions and fitness, particularly when he’s ripped, are superhuman! I’d expect to see a physique like this in the Louvre, or reclining in a toga on Mr. Olympus, so a Model Universe competition victory for this smoldering beauty seems somehow anti-climactic.

JoshH has mentioned to me often what an epic score it was for homoerotic wrestling fans when lovely Rio dipped his suckable toes into our corner of the pool. If you’ve lived under a rock for the past 3 or 4 years, you may not know that he’s wrestled for Rock Hard Wrestling (as Ray Martinez), for BG East, and for Can-Am. He’s featured in the just-past BG East catalog getting caught up in between some tough daddy-cub conflict in his self-titled Rio’s Bad Day. Rio’s Revenge is still on the list of “most popular titles” for Can-Am. Mr. Model Universe 2012 at the mercy of sadistic underground wrestlers putting on the show for gay eyes is, without a doubt, quite a score for homoerotic wrestling fans!

Cameron and Paul make Rio reconsider if he really wants to be a pro wrestler!

While Rio is living large on the stage of his fitness competition life, his journey through homoerotic wrestling products has been a tougher row to hoe.  It’s no wonder that every sadistic bastard in wrestling can’t wait to get their hands on his award winning physique. “Pretty” can be like a giant red target on the lickable ass of a fitness model, and muscleman lovely Rio is dripping with pretty.  Put him in the room with a couple of high flying indy pro veterans like Cameron Mathews and Paul Hudson, and just sit back and wait for the double team pec claw and neck breaker combo to bring godlike Rio to screaming, humiliated submission.

Rio shoves his lust for revenge in Jobe Zander’s face.

I’ve complained about Rio often not quite striking a selling combo of erotic and wrestling to fully satisfy my homoerotic wrestling fetish. However, his more recent appearances are scratching an itch that I’ve long longed for an ambitious Mexican fitness model to scratch. Exacting revenge on frequent tormentor Jobe Zander, the Latino adonis’ schoolboy pin, slapping down his junk on the throat of the notorious heel, is poignant homoerotic character development for an innocent, naive poser like Rio.  It seems like Jobe has finally, finally, finally awakened the beast, and whether Rio ends up on top or not, a fitness model flex with his balls dangling in his opponent’s face can feed my hunger for quite a while!

Sweaty Rio opens wide for dominating muscle god, Kid Karisma.

There’s probably nothing tastier for my taste buds than the first sight I caught of Rio wrestling, on the receiving end of a schoolboy pin this time, with the battering ram of my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, ripped red-headed musclegod Kid Karisma resting on his chin, in BG East’s Undagear 15. Rio’s wrestling “prowess” back then wasn’t what was yanking my chain, and the confrontation earned nothing but dripping contempt from the Karismatic one, whose tastes and opinions I tend to follow with somewhat worshipful adoration.  But the visual contrast of these two fantasy men, with rippling Rio coated in sweat and flat on his back with his jock-strapped ass cheeks vulnerably spread at the mercy of Kid K’s flexing physique does all sorts of wonderful things for me. With “legitimate” mainstream fame under his belt, I have to wonder if new release Rio’s days are numbered. Likely, they already were, I imagine, as the producers of new content dip into their unreleased catalog to keep muscle-in-trouble fans sated with suffering Rio. While his homoerotic wrestling career left me flipping through other pages at points, I whole heartedly agree with JoshH on two points: homoerotic wrestling fans were lucky to see his likes performing our fantasies, and he deserves a hearty congratulations and best wishes for more modeling successes to continue. Keep flexing, Rio!

Still Kickin’

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Kieran Dunne’s gorgeous narrow waist about to be stomped by
rookie Guido Tori – BG East’s Ring Rookies 1 

Thanks again to those of you inquiring about my well-being in my absence from posting for several days. No major problems to report. I was just, yet again, traveling for work and crazy busy along the way. Despite my inactivity around here, I’m still alive and kickin‘.

Jayden Mayne softens up big boy Trent Blayze with a boot to the back –
BG East’s Ringwars 19

I learned this summer about guys particularly turned on with trampling, stomping, and kicking. This was a new concept to me, really. I think the dominating, sadistic, overpowering aspect of trampling is hot, of course. But I typically find myself attending more to the long held holds: the over-the-knee backbreakers, the bearhugs, the scissors, the abdominal stretches. I usually think of stomps as more like the explanation points at the end of homoerotic wrestling poetry stanzas, rather than the meat of the matter.

Nikoli Bakov drives an impressive strike to Tom Flex’s
muscled back in Can-Am’s 2-on-1 Grudge Match

But I’m told that there are die-hard trampling fans whose fondest fetish is the kick to the back, the stomp to the gut, the boot to the crotch. The moments that rock some of us the hardest involve a swift kick to a vulnerable hunk’s battered body.

Psycho Capone takes a boot to a naked Dynamo Dean –
BG East’s Hard Pros 2

Just knowing that there are those of us with an eye for trampling has had the effect of making me turned on a couple of notches more when I see it in my homoerotic wrestling fare. I’m feeling it. The extra dose of humiliation, the gratuitous delivery of suffering, the tenderizing of a once-invulnerable stud to soften him up to be devoured whole… some hot stomping can take my breath away these days.

Ripped Rio Garza works out some frustration with the heel of his boot
stomping Jobe Zander’s masterpiece – Can-Am’s Rio’s Revenge

I suppose we could all be happily consuming our favorite homoerotic wrestling in the privacy of our own fantasies, but this opportunity to cross-pollinate our particular tastes is an aspect of blogging and discussing our shared fetish that I enjoy so much. To have my eye drawn, my anticipation heightened, my senses tuned to something new to inspire my appreciation of erotic wrestling is a beautiful part of sharing this corner of the virtual homoerotic wrestling with so many of you. Hopefully, I’ll be back to a bit more regular posting in the coming weeks. I’ve missed our little chats!

Coincidences

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Have you noticed how in Hollywood movies it’s a moral imperative to believe in the supernatural? I keep hearing the words, “I don’t believe in coincidences” in movies and on television lately. The implication seems to always be that there’s some divine hand moving the universe, lining up otherwise random events into non-coincidental patterns. Well, frankly, I do believe in coincidences. That army of monkeys will, indeed, one day hammer out the complete works of Shakespeare by sheer chance. I’m okay with that.  That’s not to suggest, however, that I don’t like musing on a notable coincidence when it falls in my lap.
Kid Leopard planting a Tree of Woe for Sean Cannon
in BG East’s Superbouts 2
Take, for instance, the third time in as many days that the “tree of woe” has come up in three entirely unrelated conversations I’ve been part of.  Three different homoerotic wrestling fans raised the topic of how hot the tree of woe scenario is. The only reason I really know much about it, as such, is from a series of comments on Rants, Roids & Rasslin’ a while back, in which folks were dissecting a panel from one of RR&R’s wrestling comics. “Tree of woe” is apparently the moniker for that precarious situation when a wrestler discovers himself hanging upside down from the corner turnbuckle, completely vulnerable to a humiliating and devastating attack.
BG East’s Brooklyn Bodywrecker exploiting an opponent’s vulnerability.
It seems to me that there’s more than just a little element of bondage, with the poor catcher’s ankles locked and laced underneath the supports tying the turnbuckle to the ring post. A knee to the gut, a boot to the face… the options appear to be endless. Yes, and hot…
Rock Hard Wrestling’s Lucas Payne lives up to his name in Austin Cooper’s
Tree of Woe

The position also offers an opportunity to see a hot muscle boy stretched out and in jeopardy. Hot strong bodies are the best subjects with which to construct a tree of woe, it seems to me. The mechanics probably work best with a strong, compact, relatively limber body. The aesthetics also work best that way, too, I think.

Cole Cassidy goes to work on Kevin Lee in BG’s Bad Boys

Accomplished master in the fine arts of sadistic ring punishment, Cole Cassidy made the most of bewildered Kevin Lee trapped in his tree of woe.

Cole uses those gorgeous muscles to crush Kevin’s head and midsection.

A bearhug and headscissors combination on Kevin illustrates some of the more creative opportunities that a tree of woe offers to an innovative heel.

Cole leans in real good, adding every ounce of leverage to crush Kevin’s balls.

Of course, any tree of woe that fails to include crotch torture is a waste. Cole is never, ever one to waste anything. A long, slow elbow driven crushing into Kevin’s balls softens him up.

Cole claws Kevin’s crotch and enjoys watching the agony.
Cole latching on a ball claw, with his freakishly fantastic forearms bulging like a cartoon superhero is incredibly erotic.
Cole’s boots and knees tenderize his suspended opponent.

And of course some nasty stomps to Kevin’s… well, to Kevin’s everything, shows why a tree of woe is a blank canvas in the hands of a true artist, at least when Cole is working his magic.

BG East’s Dante Rosetti (I think) uses his head.

I’m on the record many times over as completely partial to ring wrestling, and the tree of woe illustrates just one of the many reasons why ring wrestling cranks my kink harder than just about any other context. The opportunities to use the architecture, to capitalize on the structure, to exploit the parts of the ring that stretch as well as those that don’t, all contribute to making ring wrestling my wrestling kink of choice.

At long, long last, Rio Garza pays it back against Jobe Zander in
Can-Am’s Rio’s Revenge

So I completely believe that three different people raising the topic of the tree of woe in as many days is 100% coincidence. I’m sure it’s randomness, and I don’t feel the need to read into the coincidence some guiding, invisible hand that wants me to appreciate deeper the erotic potential of corner abuse. That doesn’t mean, however, that I don’t enjoy riding the tide and getting a kinked kick out of where it takes me.

Rock Hard Wrestling’s Trent Novak treats Austin Cooper to a Tree of Woe beatdown

Diverse Tastes – Guest Contributor Cage Thunder

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While there are a lot of us armchair homoerotic wrestling bloggers, I’m the first to tip my hat to a blogger like Cage Thunder, who not only writes eloquently about his tastes and twists in wrestling kink, he’s also an all-in wrestler on camera for BG East. Through a series of correspondence between me and Cage Thunder, I will dare to reveal one thing that I’ve learned about the mysterious masked heel: he’s a class act. He has a delightful sense of humor that goes well beyond his gloating, clucking delight in humiliating one all-too-pretty pretty boy after another. He also has a remarkable depth to him that leads him to contemplate the alchemy of homoerotic wrestling kink with a fervor and meticulousness that very well may surpass even my own. So when Cage Thunder agreed to give me his take on the topic of “Diverse Tastes” as part of neverland’s summer series of guest contributors, I was deeply honored. So sit back and learn from a master who knows his wrestling kink from inside out and every angle a delightfully twisted wrestling mind and body can imagine.
The Turning Point
by Cage Thunder
BG East’s Cage Thunder

There is a certain moment in every pro wrestling match that, without fail, always grabs my attention. This moment never fails to get my attention and always make my dick stand up at attention.

I call this moment the turning point.

Bulldog Barzini savors the sight of Denny Cartier
reaching “the turning point” – BG East’s Fantasymen 28

A turning point is exactly what it sounds like—that definitive moment when you know that one of the wrestlers is finished— even if he isn’t being pinned or counted out or giving in a submission, and the match might go on for a while longer (and usually does). But that’s the moment when you know for certain who the stud is who’s going to have his arms raised in complete victory at the end of the match (or fall, if it’s a best-of situation).

I love that moment.

Muscle heel Kid Karisma drags muscle twink Christian Taylor
beyond the turning point – BG East’s Wet &  Wild 5

When I was growing up, professional wrestling was my porn. It still is, to a degree—only I rarely watch it on television, I satisfy my fetish with videos these days—but when I was a kid, it was a world I desperately wanted to be a part of. I greatly enjoyed the morality plays of pro wrestling matches, the struggle between good and evil, hero versus villain, rule-breaking versus following the rules. And like life, good didn’t always triumph over evil.

Cage Thunder soaks in the sight of his handiwork –
BG East’s Masked Mayhem 6

But professional wrestling was also one of the very few places on television in those days where you could see scantily dressed men sweating and heaving, clinching and coming apart, entwining their bodies in an almost erotic dance. And while I always wanted the nasty heels to be punished for their dastardly ways, I also loved watching the gorgeous ones suffer at their hands. With the advent of cable television and Ted Turner taking WTBS national into a self-styled Super Station, every Saturday afternoon from three to five p.m. Pacific times Georgia Championship Wrestling aired—and I fell in lust with a gorgeously built mullet-wearing muscle boy named Brad Armstrong.

The muscles and the mullet – Brad Armstrong
Oh, that ass. If I hadn’t already known I was gay, Brad Armstrong’s tight trunks clinging ever so tenaciously to those perfectly formed buttocks certainly would have done the trick.
Brad Armstrong’s inspiring ass in trouble
Brad was a good wrestler—a fan favorite, obviously, with his athletic ability, sexy body, and ‘aw shucks’ attitude. But he lost his matches more frequently than he won them—and week after week, I slowly came to realize that what was really turning my crank and getting my dick hard was watching some nasty ass heel put him through the wringer—watching him suffer on the mat, one foot bouncing up and down as his back arched and that ass, that oh-so-perfect ass, with his trunks creeping up bit by bit, up in the air.

Brad’s trunks creeping up his ass as he suffers humiliatingly in the ropes

And I also came to the conclusion that I preferred watching Brad suffer rather than being dominant in a match—which made me stop and think.

Brad Armstrong where he did his best work: on his back,
feet pointed at the ceiling, and his opponent copping a feel of that rocking ass!

And I realized the truth is I wanted to fuck him—in other words, I wanted to dominate him and make him submissive to me. I wanted to beat him down, make him call me sir, and when that hard muscle ass arched up in the air, I wanted to reach down and peel those green trunks off him, lube up my cock, and ride him while he bucked and writhed and moaned.

And called me “sir.”

I’m frequently accused of being a ‘body fascist,’ and nothing could be further from the truth. I actually like all kinds of men, in all shapes and sizes—what I am actually attracted to, more than anything else, is a particular attitude that a lot of wrestlers seem to have. (This is why I generally don’t give a shit about watching gay porn—very few gay porn stars have that ‘certain something special’ that gets my dick hard, and let’s face it—if you’ve seen one fuck scene, you’ve pretty much seen them all. Ty Lebeouf is a gay porn star who is one of the exceptions—and he is exceptional, although I’d much rather watch him climb in the ring.) A wrestler can have the most gorgeous body you’ve ever seen, and a huge bulge in the front of his trunks—but if the attitude I like isn’t there, he just leaves me cold. (I won’t give examples, out of respect.)

Porn star Ty Lebeouf: Ready to Wrestle?

The wrestlers I like—the ones that make me open my wallet and spend my hard-earned money buying their videos—have that attitude. It’s not something that’s quantifiable or definable; someone either has it or they don’t. And there really isn’t a rhyme or reason to my attraction to them. They can be a muscle twink, like Christian Taylor, or a hot little muscle heel like Kid Karisma, or a stocky brute like Bulldog Barzini, or a beautiful babyface who has crazy mad ring skills but always loses—like Alexi Adamov.

Cage Thunder revels in dragging babyface Alexi Adamov
well past “the turning point” – BG East’s Masked Mayhem 2

I like heels because the only way someone can ever fuck me is if they dominate me. And I do like being dominated. I like being forced to submit, I like being forced to scream out a submission or call my foe “sir”—and if he can beat me down that way, I’m his for the taking and he can do with me as he pleases. The thought of being worked over like that by a Bob Orton or a Stan Hansen or any number of studly heels who might not have the body beautiful you’d see on the cover of a gay porn magazine turns me on as much as the thought of beating down some beautiful babyface/jobber does.

A heel who could have made Cage Thunder cry, “Sir!”

For me, that’s the answer to why people enjoy seeing pretty muscle boys just get the shit kicked out of them. Because we want to dominate them, we want to fuck them, and the wrestling match we are watching is a kind of pornographic dance of domination and submission.

Cage Thunder has his way with a puddle-on-the-mat, Jobe Zander –
BG East’s Masked Mayhem 8

And I love, love, LOVE the turning point—when the heel begins to simply toy with his opponent for our viewing pleasure.

Cage Thunder conquers, strips, and toys with Lobolito –
BG East Masked Mayhem 3

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a DVD to watch.

——————
Now, aren’t we all dying to know what gorgeous-bodied and huge-bulged wrestlers leave Cage Thunder limp!? Like I said, however, he’s a class act who isn’t one to crush-and-tell. For this fantastic glimpse into precisely the moment, the attitude, and the acts of domination that make his dick stand up at attention, neverland is honored to have guest contributor Cage Thunder push the pause button and share his thoughts with us!

Tightening Bard’s Belt

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My post on the cost of my wrestling kink generated a lot of feedback. One nice result from my nervous confession that I’ve never tracked down permission from Can-Am to repost their pics is that I got an email from Can-Am giving me permission to repost their pics (thanks!).

Thiago Diaz and Jobe Zander – Can-Am’s Decrotchery

Speaking of which, I had to pick my jaw up off the floor when I saw the preview pics of Jobe Zander’s new match for Can-Am against one of the hottest new muscle bodies I’ve seen in a long time, who goes by the name Thiago Diaz. Thiago is absolutely phenomenal to look at in still frame.  My head is about to explode in anticipation of seeing if he’s just as kinetically hot and whether he can sell some sweet homoerotic wrestling. The sustained ball torture he appears to endure in his rookie debut entitled Decrotchery looks like seriously nasty shit of the variety that Jobe specializes in. If Thiago shows up in Can-Am’s series Pro Sex Fights, I may need CPR (preferably delivered by Thiago).

Rusty Stevens and Kevin Crowes – Can-Am’s Pro Sex Fight 4

And speaking of my jaw dropping (and hot muscle bodies and Pro Sex Fights), Can-Am has also posted in their store their newest Pro Sex Fight starring former long-time holder of the title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Rusty Stevens! I don’t know what this means for Rusty’s announcement that he was retiring from porn last autumn. But knowing nothing other than that Rusty has climbed into the pro wrestling ring, I can already say with absolutely certainty that he’s back in contention to slam, squeeze, pound and fuck his way through the ranks of my favorite homoerotic wrestlers. And this rookie that he’s squaring off against is making my head spin with almost as much velocity as Thiago Diaz! Kevin Crowes is devastatingly handsome, constructed like a go-go boy addicted to his workout endorphins, and sporting what looks to an epic cock and major league, aesthetically gorgeous ink. Smart money might be on Rusty totally owning the rookie hunk, but then again, Rusty’s long resume of wrestling domination doesn’t feature much ring action at all, and this very well may be the first time that I’ve ever seen Rusty out-prettied by an opponent (possibly with the exception of David Taylor).

Jake Jenkins and Austin Cooper – BG East’s Ripped Rookies 1: A Score to Settle

In addition to the happy bonus of getting word that Can-Am is okay with me reposting, joining the ranks of the generous folks at BG East, Thunder’s Arena, and Rock Hard Wrestling, my post on the cost of wrestling kink also generated some sincere efforts from several folks giving me advice about what subscription I ought to choose to be the one to drop. Jon gave me more of a psychological assessment of my core beliefs and motivations, concluding that his read on my equivocation is that I should drop Can-Am and Thunder’s. Off line, I had one adamant reader insist that once you’ve seen one Naked Kombat, you’ve seen them all, so I shouldn’t expect anything too new or novel to need to keep investing in them. Someone also made the most fair point that the real cost-benefit ratio should be measured at the top end of the discounts that all 4 of my subscriptions offer (even if I’m too undisciplined to budget the big bucks for one time per year cost savings).

Leo Forte & Trent Diesel – Naked Kombat – The Bondage Match June 22, 2011

With that in mind, let me point out that I could get 365 days of BG East Arena delights for $125. A year of Can-Am Max and the opportunity to pine over the likes of Thiago Diaz would set me back $179.95. The most cost-efficient means of enjoying Thunder’s Arena’s Thunder TV is 90 days for $59.99 on a recurring bill (not sure why a non-recurring 90 days should suddenly jump up to $100… should that be a year?), which would equate to $240 for a full 360 days. And finally, for Naked Kombat’s exclusive content, I could be maximizing the fuck for the buck with their 1-year subscription at $169.99.

Z-Man and Dallas – Thunder’s Arena’s Custom Match

Since I’m not made of money, and since I anticipate some big bills coming up related to a barrage of travel obligations in the next 6 months, I feel like the cost-benefit analysis brings me to an unmistakable conclusion. Thunder TV, I’m afraid, is the weakest link. I’m going to sign back off of them, regretfully, but I’ll check with Joe at Ringside at Skull Island for any can’t miss new releases that he reviews from Thunder’s. Thanks to everyone who gave me your thoughtful advice. Now, if anyone has any other wrestling kink websites out there that I’m not tracking, let me know if you think I’m missing out on some major kink gold. And of course, should Rock Hard Wrestling come out with an exclusive content membership option, I’ll have to reconsider everything. It would require a whole new cost analysis of my overall wrestling kink budget, of course…

Tats Named

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

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

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

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

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

And tat #5 belongs to…
…BG East classic, Syddo Riley.
Syddo’s buried deep in the catalogs, but he’s a treasure to look at when you find him. This sweet bicep flex from Syddo seems to be not directly related to any one wrestling match that I can find him in, but just to illustrate the excellent use he managed to put all those muscles to, here he is ripping the deltoid muscles off the bone of babyface muscleboy, Tony Romano for Bratpack 12.
So raise your glass with me now and toast to your homoerotic wrestling acuity and to my success of the day! Well done, my friends!
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Here we go again. A month and a half after BGE releases a Donnie Drake 1 on 2 squash, Can-Am is pre releasing pics from a Donnie Drake 1 on 2 bout.  I think there could be a place for this type of copycat production (see Rio v Jobe and Rio v Aryx for more examples), really I do. I think that Can-Am’s specialty in pornboy porn wrestling could make a hot Rio v Jobe ring battle resurrect into a very nice trunks off, hands on mat tussle that I’d pay double for. Other than the translation to mats, that’s not the formula that Can-Am appears to be applying to their second place finishes.

Still, I am liking the hint that I’m getting from the Can-Am boss’s Twitter pics, though. Donnie’s 1 on 2 battle for Can-Am is a scrap with Chris Bruce and Rio. While true, this is yet another reunion of BG East boys, Sexton has a provocative pic of Donnie double teamed with his face in Chris’ crotch while Rio applies a boston crab to the bad boy. I’m not going to hold my breath to finally, finally, finally see Chris (or either of the others) really sex it up, but I am a fan of some of these straight up homoerotic wrestling boys working a little more of the homoerotic side of the coin with faces to crotch. I still think that a loser-cums scenario (one way or another) would make this seem less like a BGE re-run and more like something I’ve come to appreciate Can-Am for.

Another sneak peak pic from Sexton shows what appears to be a tag team line up for an in-the-ring match starring still another combination of BG East alums, Aryx & Donnie teaming up against Rio and Cameron Matthews. I tend to prefer ring matches. I like tag teams. Frankly, I’m still taking cold showers waiting for a another seriously hot lovers on lovers tag team match. Something tells me the Aryx/Donnie Rio/Cameron combinations won’t be sparing me another cold shower, though. But otherwise, this is pretty solidly in my wrestling kink niche, and I’m anxious to see it.

I’m going to hammer on my old saw, now, though (note that despite the mixed metaphor, everything stays in the tool shed). You simply can’t tell me that there are only a dozen or so quality performers out there who can sell homoerotic wrestling. I don’t believe it for a second. Now, I don’t begrudge the boys themselves their dues. Someone offering a paycheck isn’t to be taken for granted, particular in the present economic environment. Wrestle for whomever treats you right and gives you checks that clear. But higher up the food chain, I just want to say again, don’t phone it in. Spot the smokin’ hot new talent and blow me away with something I’ve never seen before. Or even take the tried and true golden boys and make them tell me an entirely new story. Keep the homo and the erotic up front, even though I understand that you’re often going to work with straight boys. But one way or another, keep it fresh, make my blood pump faster, and introduce me to a new obsession, a new story, a new spark to make me believe that there’s something more out there to be had that I haven’t already bought and paid for.

Where It Hurts

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When I was a kid, I’d typically scheme all the time to start a wrestling match with a friend. Inevitably in the fumbling scramble, sooner or later, someone would get “racked,” by which we meant that they took a blow to the groin. It was always unintentional… or, at least, it was always unintentional on my part. Looking back on it, I sort of suspect that some of my wrestling buddies probably threw in a precisely placed knee every so often. I was always such a naive babyface.

The new Arena update at BG East has tickled my fancy once again with some preview pics of an upcoming release featuring the mouth-watering ass of Kid Karisma in action against Len Harder. This looks like it leans more the to homoerotic side than most of what I’ve seen Kid in, including some suck-face and ball claws. Good, good times…
The fact that this catches my eye and tweaks my kink so instantly is a relatively new thing. When I was a kid and would wrestle with my buddies, getting “racked” was an instant time out. The action stopped whenever someone took a blow to the groin. Every boy learns about the bundle of nerve endings in the groin, don’t we? At some point or another, we all experience that near-paralyzing pain of taking a shot to the balls. All the air rushes out of your lungs. Your head feels like it’s about to explode. You instinctively roll up into the fetal position with your hands cupped over your crotch to protect it from further abuse. It’s no fun, and as a kid it was typically a mood-killer for me.
Ball abuse as a mood-maker has been only a pretty recent development for me. I’ve always liked the concept of hands on genitals in my homoerotic wrestling. I just always cringe when I see some convincing bashing, twinges of some of my own greatest hits echoing through my body. I swear, it’s tissue memory more than anything cognitive. I see a blow to the balls, and I have a pre-cognitive cringe reflex. But lately, I find some hot, hard ball claws intensely erotic. I’m writing ball abuse into every fictional wrestling match I write.
I think I attribute my expanding my wrestling kink repertoire to Derek da Silva. He shows up frequently in homoerotic wrestling on the other end of the ball bashing stick. And he clearly LOVES it. I mean, seriously, he gets harder the more he gets bashed. Now, if Derek were naked and just hanging the laundry on the line, I’d be unable to stop myself from masturbating. But Derek grappling, getting ball bashed, and getting off on getting bashed has just turned a key in the back of my mind somewhere.
I still cringe. But the cringe and the pain and the primal domination of ball abuse are somehow doing it for me these days like never before. And it’s not like you can shake a stick and not smack up some ball torture everywhere you turn. Hell, in Naked Kombat you get points for it. It’s absolutely mandatory.
Can-Am has long sprinkled ball torture throughout their products. I remember one particular match that blew my mind when I saw Jimmy Dean shove his hand down the back of Mark Wolff’s trunks, reach between his legs, and claw at his testicles from behind. The boys, the gear, the ring, the bodies… everything about that makes me gasp a little.
BG East has ball claws featured prominently everywhere, in explicitly ball-torture themed products and otherwise. There’s just something stunning about the sight of a bodybeautiful, musclegod/ken doll like Jace Bradley pressed against the ropes and completely at Mr. Joshua’s mercy with his balls firmly in Mr. Joshu’s hand.
So I guess what this post is really about is the evolution of sexual appetite, the refinement of erotic tastes, and the observation that even when it comes to my wrestling kink, I’m not the same person I was even a couple of years ago. What strikes me as erotic, arousing, and captivating is growing and maturing as I march through life, scarfing down homoerotic wrestling every chance I get.