Tag: Monstah Mike

Heel on Heel on Heel

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“Holy shit, look at the size of this guy!” Jonny Firestorm appears genuinely impressed, when he and his long-time BFF Brad Rochelle stride into the ring room to find Monstah Mike flexing. “That’s a lot of man,” Brad agrees, equally as awed as Jonny is by what they see at the start of Three-Way Thrash 6: Bodybuilder Beatdown. What they see is awesome by any measure. Mike is a fucking specimen! The official numbers put him at 5’10 and 230 pounds, but the numbers can’t capture the pull of gravity this sculpted bodybuilder possesses. He’s come on like a house on fire since setting foot at BG East just last year and immediately winning Best Butt of 2023. Dude is dripping with big boss attitude and more than enough gargantuan muscle to back it up. Last year I called him “fucking amazingly pretty,” and despite seeing him chew up and spit out opponents one after another ever since, I stick by it. Yeah, yeah, he’s a fucking muscle monster(ah). He’s got serial killer facial hair and dazzlingly dangerous power. I buy it, without a doubt. Mike’s a fucking force of nature, not to be fucked with lightly, if at all, and badass to the core. But what makes all of that even more astonishing, is that he’s fucking gorgeous.

So, it’s not like Jonny and Brad are overselling him in the least. And it’s a fun bit of physical drama when Jonny, having newly reclaimed his title as Top Heel this past year, literally bounces off the bodybuilder when he tries to blindside the enforcer with chops to those humongous pecs. Jonny’s flying drop kicks, showing the veteran heel can still soar, similarly don’t move Mike an inch. If anything, it looks like trying to drop kick a brick wall might have legitimately injured Jonny’s ankle. Again, it’s melodrama, but I don’t think it’s an oversell for a second when Mike catches Jonny’s swinging fists in midair, before turning it into a test of strength that lasts a split second before Jonny is on his knees and yelping in fear for having his hands snapped off at the wrists. “This is my ship, now,” Mike claims, and Jonny’s in no position to argue, considering he’s suspended way off his feet in Mike’s two handed straight-armed overhead choke. Top Heel title holder or not, Jonny was walking into a massacre from the start of this match!

Good thing for Jonny, he brought back up. Mike’s no dummy, either, giving Brad a cold once-over when Jonny’s classic babyface BFF takes a seat on the couch to watch, wearing wrestling boots, trunks, a black leather jacket, and sunglasses. “Him? Oh, he’s just the time keeper, the bell ringer,” Jonny assures. “He’s never done this before. don’t worry about him.” Monstah Mike does not look worried in the least, even though you and I know that Brad has most definitely done “this” (ALL of this) before. Brad provides a little light comic relief with his spontaneous commentary as he watches Jonny run headlong, again and again, into that gorgeous brick wall. “Oh, my goodness,” Brad mutters like somebody’s grandma when Mike whips Jonny from corner to corner and then spears the Top Heel in the gut and send Jonny through the ropes and bouncing off the ring apron.

There’s something a little Harold and Kumar about Jonny and Brad. Or maybe it’s Bill and Ted? Whatever it is, the BFF chemistry between them cracks me up and turns me on so… fucking… hard (yeah, for the record, I’d pay to watch Harold and Kumar tag team against Bill and Ted any day!). Again, it could easily be oversold, the one liners, the clever quips and the working for laughs. But the self-congratulatory wisecracks paired with the beautiful violence of their diabolical double-teaming is perfectly balanced, as far as I’m concerned.

Monstah Mike is nearly muscle beast enough to knock them both on their asses, and STILL I say his dominating power is not oversold. But it’s when Jonny and Brad really start hitting their stride and beating the living fuck out of the amazingly pretty bodybuilder that this compelling drama turns into my favorite type of porn. Just like they did when Brad made his huge (HUGE) comeback last November, double-teaming achingly pretty muscle twink Kal Connor in The Comeback 3, the BFFs synchronized offense is a thing of beauty. Their double-team corner work is one of the highlights for me, when Brad, on the apron, has Mike trapped in a chin lock and nipple clamp, while Jonny, inside the ring, is clawing the fuck out Mike’s balls and biting his other nipple. Honestly, I’d have my money on Mike if he was taking on almost any other pair of BG East wrestlers on the roster, but against these diabolical heel/babyface wonder twins, he’s just a high protein lunch special.

It’s the Brad and Jonny show (and I’ll buy front row tickets for that every fucking time), but credit where it’s due: Mike tells the story. Mike morphs from snarling narcissist badass muscle monster into a sniveling, screaming, weeping mass of humiliation in a sensationally paced descent into ego-shattering despair. I sampled Mike’s screams and pleas in the first episode of Sidelineland Sounds because his deep, meaty bass boss voice crumbling into panicked begging and agony is epic suffering. He’s still got the gravitational pull of a neutron star, as the wonder twins manhandle and pummel him, but it collapses into the mysterious magnificence of a black hole, as his lush and meaty muscles writhe and strain and twitch and quiver with four vicious claws ripping him apart. With range like this, I can totally believe that Monstah Mike is, indeed, capable of being the franchise player he brags that he’s ready to be.

I’m officially infatuated with Jonny and Brad’s partnership. The boys genuinely look like they’re having fun ripping apart their prey. Their mutual appreciation mixed with good-natured sibling teasing is such a delightful vibe paired with their deep arsenal of low down double-team torture. And Mike’s cocky boasting that he’s the new sheriff of BGE is making me a believer more and more. Hot drama that’s over the top in just the right proportions to make me swoon in a way that heel on heel (on heel) action doesn’t always get from me!

Sheriff

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Another last minute 2023 indulgence I enjoyed was the rare all-out heel-on-heel battle between Brutal Brendan Byers and Monstah Mike, as part of BGE’s last hurrah of the year, Wrestle Worship 5: Power Struggle. To be honest, heel-on-heel matches don’t always land solidly for me. Too much heel energy (like too much jobber energy) can interrupt the momentum of a hot match, I find. Mike and Brendan are to absolutely hot heels who, if it were just the subtitle for this match, “Power Struggle,” might not have stroked me just right. But these two sensationally hot heels fuel the momentum of this match with something other than the classic innocence-spoiled angle, and that something is jet fuel: lust.

This is just Mike’s second match at BG East, after hitting the scene elsewhere, so his extremely cocky attitude could easily be a set up for even a sculpted muscle god like him to get slapped down. He’s so over the top contemptuous of absolutely any possible challenger that I honestly feel like Brendan might just be the pin to pop the bodybuilder’s balloon. “I’m going to dominate here, just like I dominate everywhere,” he boasts before Brendan arrives. Mike is joining me in eye fucking his superhuman proportions and luxuriously draped thick muscles. “I wish someone around here would give me a challenge. But nobody here’s going to mess with me!” And, yeah, it’s not hard to see where the contemptuous boasts come from. It’s like Mike Columbo and Joe Mazetti had a love child who went into competitive bodybuilding. And there’s just something about those trunks he’s wearing that somehow, impossibly really, make his super lean waist sitting on top of those gargantuan, rock hard muscle glutes, appear even more superhuman. I’m not exactly unhappy to report that those magnificent trunks get a bit translucent when Mike works up a thick sheen of sweat, as well. I’m even happier to report that, before this match is over, he’s yanking them down to shove Brendan’s face into the deep crevice between his magnificent cheeks.

But this is Brutal Brendan Byers who steps up to accept the challenge. Brendan towers nearly half a foot taller than Mike. I’m just going to say it again, Mike is fucking pretty, and he’s prettier than Brendan. Brendan’s got the thick, powerful, functional physique of headliner pro wrestler. He’s got this sexy layer of fur down his torso and inner thighs that contrasts sensationally against the baby-oiled smooth surfaces of Mike’s sculpted muscles. We saw what Mike’s bulldozing persona can do to an opponent when he thrashed the living fuck out of adorable Freddy Campbell in Wrestle Shack 31. But big Brendan is NOT adorable Freddy, and the seasoned erotic heel just does not whither under the scorching hot lens of Mike’s extreme self-confidence. Possibly the best line in wrestling this year is when Mike demands, rhetorically, “When was the last time you saw a chest like this,” and Brendan does not skip a beat before answering, “Whenever I look in the mirror.” Fuck, two hot bodies with massive, massive egos.

That jet fuel I mentioned earlier is spraying all over the place from start to finish in this match, as Brendan and Mike are both fucking INTO each other big time. Holy shit, it’s such a breath of fresh air when a homoerotic wrestler is saying what I’m thinking in admiring his opponent. “I’m impressed,” Brendan says, hungrily groping Mike’s Monstah pecs and shoulders, adding, “but you’re still going down.” Down the road, when Brendan is using his height to perfect advantage by wringing Mike out in a full nelson and grinding his crotch into those meaty glutes, he half-moans the confession “I love those tight muscles,” which, I swear to the homoerotic wrestling gods, I was thinking the exact same thing at that very moment.

Mike isn’t as verbally demonstrative, but the swelling bulge in his trunks and the way his breathing gets fast and ragged when he’s being “forced” to worship big Brendan is confession enough for me. When Brendan has Mike’s massive arms trapped in the ropes and he’s straddling the bodybuilder’s face, leaning forward and sucking on Mike’s nipples and licking his abs, the trapped muscle man is a study in extreme ambivalence. The way he really throws himself into his work when he’s kissing Brendan’s biceps and licking the brutal one’s sweaty pits sells the pleasure Monstah Mike is taking from having Brendan grant his wish to have someone around here give him a serious challenge.

Mike’s magnificent muscles take about 66% of the punishment in this match, and it’s thrilling to watch a body like that get worked on so hard. Watching a 230 pound muscle god cracked across an opponent’s thigh in an OTK backbreaker is just epic! And when Brendan’s got him there laid out and vulnerable, the brutal one swoops down and licks the sweat off of Mike’s heaving abs. Holy fuck, be careful what you wish for, Monstah Mike!

I say Brendan is in the driver’s sweat about 66% of the time, but it’s only the final 4 minutes that really matter in the end, when it comes to settling whether BG East has a new “sheriff,” as Mike so boldly announces, or if the old guard is still laying down the law of the land. I think one thing that keeps this heel-on-heel action in the sweet spot for me is that, while there’s a decisive “winner,” no one is hating it when the final round of forced muscle worship plays out. There’s no defense of fragile masculinity, as if being forced to worship a sensationally sexy body you are obviously hot for is somehow emasculating. They’re both fucking into the heat of the battle, into lusting over each other’s hot bodies, and neither of them is an ounce less of a total badass for it. It’s not like I think either of these sexy-as-fuck muscle heels has any tarnish at all on his sheriff’s badge, even though one of them is knocked out cold and pinned helplessly for the final 3-count victory. If anything, I’m hoping it just makes him hungrier. And hornier. And good luck to whoever is next to square off against either of these sensationally sexy bad ass muscle men!

Monstah

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Monstah Mike is so fucking big and solid, he’s got the gravitational pull of planet. You can tell, because from the moment he debuts for BG East in WrestleShack 31: Cash or Cum (spoiler alert: the answer isn’t cash), Freddy Campbell is either circling him or crashing into him over and over again, and just has no chance in hell of reaching escape velocity. Mike has apparently been hired to work in accounts receivable at BG East. Some weasely red-headed jobber rented out the ring room for some private time, and then tried to skip out without paying the rent. Mike was probably told the name of the jobber, but, seriously, how many weasely little red-headed jobbers could be on the BG East payroll?

Freddy is seriously confused when Mike FILLS the doorway of the shack (and then some) with his gargantuan boulder shoulders and demands that he pay up. Unbeknownst to either Mike or Freddy, the real culprit was, of course, Forrest Taylor (honestly, doesn’t that sound more like Forrest, for some reason?). Fuck, Forrest is stirring up shit when he’s not even on site! “Bossman said to collect what he’s owed from some ginger jobber. Looks about right,” he says, giving Freddy a slow, appraising once over. “So, where’s the money?”

Freddy is duly impressed with Monstah Mike. “I don’t mind a handsome guest,” he says, checking the bodybuilder out with a grin. “But you’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t owe any money.” Future opponents take note: Monstah Mike doesn’t take “no” for an answer. A forearm smash across the chest (and, seriously, look at the size of that fucking forearm!?!?) knocks Freddy into the back wall of the shack.

The whole time, Freddy is protesting his innocence, and not for one second does it matter to the hired gun. Mike is going to beat the money out of him, and, by the looks of it, Mike enjoys his work. He tosses Freddy around like a rag doll. He repeated slams the wrong ginger jobber to the mat, and into the walls, and into his own rock hard body. Holy fuck, that’s hot! Mind you, Freddy has been putting on muscle in his last several matches. BG East has him listed at 185 pounds. But he might as well be 142-pound Forrest, for all it matters, with a fucking AVALANCHE of exquisite, gargantuan muscle pounding down on him and flattening him like a pancake.

It’s all overwhelming muscle and power in this match, and everything about it is absolutely convincing and incredibly hot. Early on, Freddy lashes out with some punches at those huge targets that are Mike’s pecs and I’m pretty sure the blows hurt Freddy a lot more than Mike. The debt collector folds Freddy like origami, wrapping him up in a small package and then, delightfully, showing just how much he enjoys his work by kneading and biting the ginger’s ass and stroking Freddy’s crotch. “Wasn’t expecting to have this much fun,” Mike mutters, good-naturedly, as he’s streamrolling and possessing Freddy at will.

The sexiest moments for me happen when Freddy finally finds the right button to push (a solid jab to Mike’s balls) to get some revenge on the strongman. When Freddy slides the debt collector between his legs to lock on body scissors, the ginger complains, “Fuck, I can barely get my legs around you!” And, indeed, fuck. Mike is just that fucking huge, every ounce of it solid, succulent muscle, to make it nearly impossible for Freddy to really lock down those scissors. Freddy makes the most of the moment, though. He gets a standing ovation from me for yanking on those ultra briefs Mike is wearing and wedgying the most muscly ass I’ve seen bared in a long time.

It’s Freddy’s spladle on Monstah Mike, though, that leaves me dizzy. Fuck, fuck, AND fuck, all that luxurious muscle ripped open wide. I’d bet cash Mike can crack walnuts with those glutes, but in that spladle, ass in the air, he’s whining and crying like a bitch. Mike SELLS that suffering, which makes the contrast between all that dazzling muscle and his complete helplessness sensationally epic. And Freddy is every fucking one of us, taunting the bodybuilder and clawing the fuck out of Mike’s balls.

Lest we blow past even my infamously adept ability to suspend disbelief, rest assured that Mike turns the tables back upright. And the hired muscle is now pissed. He snaps shut the beartrap of his monstah thighs around Freddy’s head and threatens to pop his skull like a grape. Mike picks him up and pins him against the shack wall, Freddy’s feet nowhere near the ground. He makes Freddy lick, suck, and kiss his massive muscles, wringing all the humiliation he wants out of the naughty boy for that embarrassingly sexy spladle a few moments earlier. Barehanded chokes and endlessly punishing bearhugs crush the wrongly-accused ginger like a beer can.

And speaking of beer cans… fuck, when Monstah Mike tugs his briefs down his sequoia thighs, out springs a cock to match the rest of Mike’s massively developed body. He gets himself even harder by pounding his un/lucky opponent’s face senseless with it. Naked, he sits on Freddy’s face and smothers the lucky ginger with those gargantuan muscle glutes. I go back and forth about how to describe Mike here, but I’m just going to say it. He’s fucking amazingly pretty. I mean, I don’t know how someone selling alpha dog muscle enforcer like he does would feel about that adjective. And it’s not like there’s anything delicate or demure about Mike. But nevertheless, I think he’s just astonishingly pretty, in that 5’10, 230-pound, sculpted muscle and early-80’s biker stash way he has about him. If it was a braver and better world we lived in, there’d be young homoerotic wrestling fans with posters of Monstah Mike hanging over their beds. I hope that IRL he’s got some adoringly infatuated boyfriend bringing him flowers and telling him he’s gorgeous every day, because as big and bad and intimidating as he is, he’s just fucking pretty. I can’t think of a better way to put it.

As incredibly impressive Monstah Mike is ALL over, there’s one super impressive muscle on Freddy that puts even the debt collector to shame. If you’ve watched many of Freddy’s matches, you know what I’m talking about. Even Mike’s impressed, admiring the school bus as he presses one of his hugely peaked biceps across Freddy’s throat and smothers the ginger with Mike’s sweaty briefs. Like me, Freddy doesn’t last long after that point. “Damn, boy,” Monstah Mike marvels, “you’ve been holding a lot in there! Good job!”

Freddy is a wasted pool of sweat and cum by the end. Mike looks like he’s super proud of his work, and hungry for another assignment from the boss man. Just as he’s finally walking out the door of the shack, he calls over his shoulder to Freddy, “You clean yourself up. And then GIVE ME THAT MONEY!”

Super fun, funny, and dizzyingly sexy encounter in WrestleShack 31. Freddy NEEDS to settle up accounts with Forrest somehow, and Monstah Mike needs to just keep doing whatever the fuck he wants with whoever the fuck he wants whenever the fuck he wants… as long as the cameras are rolling.