Patrick Donovan – Sidelineland

Sidelineland Sounds – Episode 4

March 16, 2025 wrestlebardLeave a comment

Hey there, again, homoerotic wrestling fans. This is Bard, longtime homoerotic wrestling blogger. It’s been a few months since my last episode of Sidelineland Sounds, and, honestly, that’s just how it is. I find it great fun to watch wrestling, to write about wrestling, to review matches, to cobble together these audio episodes… and I just wish I had time to do more of it, and be more consistent. Early on in my nearly 16 years of blogging I used to beat myself up about having to take breaks from it every so often, but I’m older and wiser now, and I’m just enjoying the fun of broadcasting my passion for hot wrestling whenever I get the chance.

In case you haven’t listened to the first three episodes of Sidelineland Sounds, check them out. Listeners have given a lot of great feedback to my audio musings about the written word in the age of instant video gratification. In episode 2 I sampled some of the hot trash talk that spices up my favorite wrestling fare, and in episode 3, I shared some of my thoughts about what I find hot about the sounds of a wrestler suffering. For this fourth episode of Sidelineland Sounds, I’m taking a step back from the action itself, and reflecting instead on one of the unsung heroes of homoerotic wrestling video post-production, the musical soundtrack.

[Bell Ring – sound credit: BG East’s Three-Way Thrash 6]

I’ll forgive you if nothing comes to mind when I mention the musical soundtrack of homoerotic wrestling. It’s easy to miss. In fact, depending on the source of your wrestling videos, music may or may not even be there. But there are some examples of musical soundtracks in homoerotic wrestling that have seriously imprinted themselves deeply on me.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: BG East Wrestlfest 1 trailer]

That was the soundtrack to BG East’s trailer for Wrestlefest 1, and it’s the same soundtrack for several other BG East trailers. And it’s fucking hot! And, depending on how old you are and what digital era you started watching BG East, you might have a similar Pavlovian response to mine, after repeatedly hearing that music paired with seeing super hot wrestling clips.

So, where does music show up in the homoerotic wrestling canon? To explain, I need to go back to my early days of discovering the exciting and salacious world of wrestling for gay eyes. My first foray into purchasing homoerotic wrestling videos happened just before DVDs really became the standard format for video recordings (yes, I’m that old). So, for the younglings out there, before streaming, before blu ray and before DVDs, there were VHS tapes. And frankly, VHS tapes were a pain in the ass because they were literally on a tape. Rewinding or fast forwarding to a particular spot you wanted to savor was time consuming and an inexact science. Some of my earliest wrestling VHS tapes actually broke from me playing, rewinding, and playing the same spot in the recording so often the tape wore out… and I know that you know what I mean about those super sweet spots in a favorite match that you’ve just got to watch over and over again. But the inefficiency of a VHS tape had an extremely fortunate side effect. So if you had a standard 2-hour long VHS tape, producers like BG East and Can-Am would release these collections of 3 or 4 matches to approximately fill a tape with, each match being anywhere from 20 to 40 minutes long. And then there’d be that extra bit of tape still left over at the end. Sometimes just 2 or 3 minutes, sometimes 10 or 15 minutes of space. When I started ordering them, I discovered, to my delight, that BG East ingeniously cut trailers for other products to fill every last inch of available tape, padding the matches you ordered with, essentially, commercials at the end.

I’ve blogged about this before, but let me just say that I LOVED those fucking trailers. Honestly, some of the worn out spots in my VHS tapes were actually during the trailers at the end of the tape. They were these hot, sort of impressionistic short outtakes from full-length matches. Like, they’d have a five second clip of one sweat soaked muscle hunk cranking on a Boston crab, and then a quick cut to later in that same match when the tables had turned and the other hardbodied stud was pumping on headscissors. You couldn’t tell the plot or understand the momentum of match from these trailer, but the point was just to whet your appetite, to make you need to send in more cash and get another tape of matches. These trailers had no audio from the actual matches themselves. Instead, they had these super sexy electronic dance music scores with what can only be described as a distinct homoerotic wrestling sensibility to them.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: BG East’s Submissions 6 trailer… “I submit, sir!”]

That’s the soundtrack to the trailer for BG East’s Submissions 6, and they used that music for other trailers. I think that one’s got to be one of the most on point musical accompaniments in history. Again, it has that intense, driving electronic bass beat in the background, with that plaintive, pleading high pitched voice-over begging to be allowed to submit.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: BG East’s Submissions 6 trailer… “I submit, sir!”]

Fuck, that’s hot! Someone at Wrestlefest New York told me last year that he thought Kid Vicious was the actual musician behind these BG East trailer soundtracks, but Kid Vicious told me they were produced by a friend of BGE, but not him. I feel like whoever wrote and produced these has got to be in the club with us, right? I mean, I could be totally wrong, but they *feel* like the musical transcription of an erotic reaction to incredibly hot wrestling.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: BG East’s X-Fights 20 trailer soundtrack… “Heavenly Bod”]

That was the soundtrack to the X-Fights trailers from BG East, with this upbeat attitude and the indulgent celebration of the heavenly bodies of sex gladiators. In case you didn’t catch the lyrics, the slow, sexy voice is singing, “I face you in a match, be prepared to try your best, you will struggle, you will fight, but you’ll give up like the rest. Meet your master, be my slave, I will whip you with my rod, you will surrender yourself, and you will worship my heavenly bod.” Like, fuck, yes! That’s the vibe of some of the sexiest homoerotic wrestling, right? The X-Fights genre lands squarely in that conquer-and-possess end of the wrestling pool, with an unflinching focus on the erotic attraction between the wrestlers. Some homoerotic wrestling is more explicit, not just in terms of nakedness and sex, but more explicit in terms of exploring how wrestling is turning on not just the audience watching, but the wrestlers themselves. Like the driving, upbeat soundtrack, they celebrate that edge of competition fueled by desire, where the passion to win is just the first wave of erotic passion you’re going to see in a wrestling match.

Not all of the BG East trailers were quite so in your face. Some soundtracks for these trailers were a little less literal than those first three examples. Though, those first three are my favorites. But there were others that were more tone-setting, with more instrumentals, more like the way a cinematic score is designed to signal to a viewer the intended emotional impact of a scene. Like the soundtrack to the Undagear 3 trailer…

[Audio Clip – sound credit: BG East’s Undagear 3 trailer]

These more straightforward, solely synthesizer soundtracks were more major chords, less cheeky, literally no lyrics, just a driving electronic dance beat to accompany clips of quick, hard action. I feel like my conditioned response to that Undagear soundtrack is all about eager anticipation of the relief of suspense. It scratches that itch that I often have for the drama and storytelling of hot, competitive wrestling, where two legitimate contenders walk in, both thinking they’re going to walk out of there the winner, and the back and forth of the action slowly wears away the pretense and leaves one of them with a seriously bruised ego.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: BG East’s Undagear 3 trailer]

So I’m listening to this soundtrack to the Undagear 3 trailer and watching Brigham Bell, that ultra lean gorgeous boy absolutely taking it from muscle hunk Steve Corelli and, in turn dishing it right back. You’ve got no idea from the clips in the trailer who comes out on top, but you know for a fucking fact that the battle was nasty and intense!

I think the BG East trailers have been the most on point in translating a specific homoerotic wrestling vibe to music, but they haven’t been alone in bringing some professional polish to post-production with a soundtrack. Hunk Wrestling has this whole sexy world-building montage before Ivan Guerrero and Steve Mason step onto the mats, for example, that has this almost ethereal dance music with an alto voice musingly singing, “Look into my heart and see what, my love, you are to me.”

[Audio Clip – sound credit: Hunks Wrestling Ivan Guerrero vs Steve Mason]

I don’t know that it strikes the tone of the seriously mean mat scrap about to break out between Steve and Ivan, but the soundtrack accompanies this luxurious, slow look at each of them, separately, working out their hot bodies, perhaps speaking more to the viewer falling in lust with the two of them in the abstract, before our lust to see them work each other over finally breaks out.

A lot of what I’ve seen in pairing music with homoerotic wrestling videos is less about the vibe of a particular match, and more conveying an ethos of a production house in general. In many cases, the music is just part of a visual and audio branded logo, speaking to the particular sensibility of the producer, overall. UCW, may it rest in peace, had that quick 80’s guitar riff to start off matches.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: UCW College Boy Beatdown #4]

It’s very “80’s garage band” which was totally apropos of UCW’s cinder block walls and relatively low budget, high earnestness staging. Just to give credit where due, I sampled that last clip from my copy of UCW’s match between Marcus Ares and Quinn Harper entitled “College Boy Beatdown #4,” now for resale on Underground Wrestler.

And speaking of Underground Wrestler, while I haven’t watched a lot from them, yet, I have caught the high gloss finish to their branded logo of a neon sign blazing to life, along with the Tron-esque audio of a live wire, followed by this ominous horror film minor chord chime fading into silence as the screen fades in on Nordic muscle god Chase Lundqvist stretching out in preparation for his $1,000 Challenge Match against Chasyn.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: Underground Wrestler $1,000 Challenge]

These audio brands don’t drill down quite so deep into the specific ethos of a particular type of match like the BG East trailer soundtracks, but I like the attention to detail, to establish a tone of a production house, if not of any one particular match. Which is probably why polished post-production really stands out, I find, when I come across it on Watchfighters. I mean, the genius of Watchfighters is that everyone from major underground operations to just a sole wrestling enthusiast with a camera phone can share what they produce and let wrestling fans vote with their credit cards for who’s making a move in the market. So, it’s probably no wonder there’s a lot, including a lot of hot wrestling, with little-to-no post production, sometimes no credits, no logos, and certainly no soundtracks. But, a couple I’ve seen deserve an honorable mention for bringing some forethought and creative style to bedazzle a relatively straightforward homemade wrestling video into something with self-conscious character.

A couple of Watchfighters matches I’ve reviewed on the blog stand out for me. The first I want to mention is the growing Uruguayan production house headed by Muscles77 (who wrestled for BG East a while back as Marcelo Muscle). The crew behind matches like Muscles77’s match against Rocky Big Guns opens with a slow motion survey of both hardbodied wrestling hunks in turn, posing, flexing, sneering with cocky confidence at the camera as this unhurried, electronic melody with (mabybe?) a South American sensibility provides the soundtrack to our eye fucking, giving us time to decide whose mouthering muscles we want to see on top.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: Muscles77’s Alpha vs Alpha: Big Muscle Domination]

My last shout out for self-produced wrestling content with a self-conscious, perhaps even cerebral post-production footprint goes to long-time friend of this blog, Mason Brooks. I reviewed his apartment match against Dio Characi after Dio told me it was one of the favorite matches he’s filmed by that point in his early career. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that Mason has crafted super-stylized opening credits with a funky, quirky beat and an A-Ha-style life-to-storyboard visual effect.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: Mason Brooks’ Mason vs Dio Characi]

The music is high concept. Like, I’d expect to hear it on the floor of a gay dance club AND playing the elevator of a museum of modern art. Which, honestly, is a pitch perfect capture of exactly the way I think of Mason Brooks in general.

In summary, I confess that a hot musical soundtrack is, by no means, a requirement for me to get turned on by homoerotic wrestling… but it certainly doesn’t hurt. Honestly, I’m all about the blending and blurring of artistic media. I do it every day. Every morning, I wake up before the sunrises and write homoerotic wrestling fiction with my best wrestling buddy and graphic artist, AR. Getting turned on by the overlap of watching hot homoerotic wrestling with a conscientious musical soundtrack is why this infatuation I have with homoerotic wrestling feels like something more than just my taste in porn. It’s a sensibility that translates well beyond pushing play and watching wrestling on video. It’s a worldview that translates into literature and audio podcast and visual arts… and into music.

So, that’s about it for this much anticipated fourth edition of Sidelineland Sounds, my audio accompaniment to my longstanding blog Sidelineland. Email me at Wrestlebard@gmail.com, or message me at Wrestlebard on Instagram and BlueSky, and let me know what music speaks to your homoerotic wrestling sensibilities. It can’t promise when the next episode of Sidelineland Sounds will drop, but my plan for episode 5 is really inspired by the BG East track “I submit,” slowing down and taking a long, slow listen to the panicked pleading of once proud wrestlers begging not to get broken. Until then, keep enjoying homoerotic wrestling, and let me know what’s catching your eye and what’s turning you on hardest in the world of homoerotic wrestling, because you know, I’m going to keep telling you what’s turning me on about it.

[Audio Clip – sound credit: BG East’s Submissions 6 trailer… “I submit, sir!”]

[Bell Ring – sound credit: BG East’s Three-Way Thrash 6]

Face the Music

October 25, 2016 wrestlebard2 Comments

Joshua Goodman up close and personal with Troy Baker’s bulges in Mat Hunks 4

Taking a brief break from the heavy diet of reviews I’ve been dishing out, today I’m lingering a bit on that supremely homoerotic wrestling hold, face-to-crotch headscissors.

Chip Slater has a love/hate relationship with his face in Patrick Donovan’s crotch in Undagear 5

I’m sure I’ve mused about this hold before, but I’m too lazy to look it up. So I’ll probably repeat myself when I say that my heart pumps harder in my chest when a straight forward pro wrestling story suddenly introduces face-to-crotch scissors. If you buy that all of pro wrestling can easily be read as an extended homoerotic innuendo, face-to-crotch sort of slaps down the implied erotic subtext and steps at least one toe over the line into straight up homoerotic text.

Mitch Colby is about to pop with Cole Cassidy trapped between his thighs in Ringwars 15

How wrestlers carry it off, of course, can significantly add to eroticism. I suppose it’s possible to snap your thighs around another man’s head with that up close look at your balls in his face and it be solely about punishment and wrestling victory. But I love watching a wrestler snap shut that bear trap and then enjoy it, openly, luxuriantly, expansively. When someone on the delivery side of this hold pumps his glutes and shoves his hips forward with a little enthusiasm, when he milks the moment with pulsing flexed muscles beating out a morse code of agony from the gasping grunts of his opponent, when he stares down his own hot body and smiles at the sight of his opponent owned and getting primed for sucking cock, when he closes his eyes and leans his head way, way back and that look of an impending orgasm washes across his face, there’s nothing coded about this. This is hot, homoerotic wrestling gold.

Rick the Prick looks like he’s struck gold with Joshua Goodman’s legendary bulge in his face in Ringwars 12

The catcher can certainly connect the dots as well. Regardless of who ends up on top after all is said and done, I love it when a captured hunk’s eyes roam hungrily up and down his captors body above him. He doesn’t need to, but if he stretches his hands up and strokes those crushing thighs, the rippling abs, stretching so far as to palm the bulging pecs of his tormentor, it conveys what I’m silently thinking deep inside at that moment. A smothered grappler doesn’t have to, but if he’s man enough to nuzzle the balls bearing down on his face, fuck, maybe even open wide and give the trickster’s treats a hearty lick, it just puts the exclamation point on what this hold conveys from the start: wrestling persistently implies homoerotic intimacy.

Charlie Evans makes the most of the rare standing face-to-crotch headscissors at the mercy of Steel Muscle God in Oil Hunks 8 (MDW)

When the camera angles and storytelling are just right, face-to-crotch headscissors shine a spotlight on one man’s bulging package, bringing his entire, tasty physique into the mix, making even that swelling muscle of passion a part of the corporal domination of another man. For me, it isn’t even so much about the oral sexual implications, as much as it signals that every magnificent inch of a wrestler’s hot body is engaged in dominating his opponent. Hell, when wrestling companies choose to transition from explicit wrestling to explicit sex, I typically push rewind. Because what’s getting me off is the homoeroticism of the wrestling, not the wrestling as foreplay for sex.

Rio Garza cannot handle Aryx Quinn in BG’s Bad Boys

I suppose it isn’t such a far distance between why I’m such a fan of face-to-crotch headscissors as I am a fanatic for my favorite pro wrestling hold, the over-the-knee backbreaker. Both draw my eye to one wrestler’s bulging package. Both center the frame on the outline of a bulging cock and the ballast of balls. Both seem ripe with the erotic potential marrying gay sensibilities and a pro wrestling kink. Both make my pulse pound in anticipation of what happens next to, or with, or on behalf of one wrestler’s swollen pipe.

So much erotic passion led up to this moment of Mitch Colby smothered by Brook Stetson’s sweaty pouch in Sunshine Shooters 4.

I sometimes find it ironic that this blog attracts so many visitors thanks to the still frames I include, because it’s the story in and around any one captured slice of time in a wrestling match that tantalizes and titillates me. It’s not any one frozen image that becomes the perfect muse to my erotic imagination, but the drama played out in motion, the slow contraction of muscles, the arching agony in a lower back, the quivering pouch, the writhing feet futilely kicking the mat. I’ve lately talked in terms of “the moneyshot,” meaning that moment in a match at which point I’m likely to climax, but that moment is about the 1,600 seconds before that led up to that moment, the deepening jeopardy of one man, the swelling confidence of another, the bodies growing wet with sweat over time, the veins swelling and pumping harder with blood from the effort and the adrenaline of competition. I get off plenty to face-to-crotch headscissors, but I’m never just getting off to face-to-crotch headscissors.

Kid Brock’s face swallowed whole between Blazes gargantuan thighs in Rainbow Restlers 2

If there is one valuable analog of face-to-crotch headscissors, I think its the comfort a wrestling company has with the homoerotic eye of their gay audience. In scanning for face-to-crotch headscissors images across several platforms for this post, I found them concentrated in just a couple producers’ catalogs. And I think they play a part in direct proportion to how explicitly companies market to those of us in the audience tuning in and ponying up because we are sexually turned on by wrestling. Of course, face-to-crotch headscissors aren’t the only way of crossing the line from homoerotic subtext to homoerotic text. Hell, they probably aren’t even the best way. But from a strictly correlational perspective, I think they show up in proportion to how much I (at least) perceive of a producer as appreciative of and comfortable with me, as a gay man, watching their wrestling products as a means of sexual gratification.

So much sexual gratification when Logan Vaughn milks Trey Dixon into whimpering obedience in Florida Fights 5

So probably a close second as my favorite wrestling hold is face-to-crotch headscissors, because when they’re done wrong, they can reveal a whole host of troubled self-hatred bubbling beneath a veneer of nohomo bravado, but when they’re done right, I feel respected as a gay wrestling fan, drawn into the intimacy of homoerotic combat, and turned on hard.

Kid Vicious puts his swelling cock where Niku Samir’s face is in Motel Madness UK 5

Riding Him Like a Pony

November 18, 2015 wrestlebard3 Comments

I was chatting with someone last night when the topic of getting choked in the ropes came up (you know, like it does). I know there are wrestling fans who are far more into the fantasy of choking, but I certainly get it. The element of control is so seductive when one hunk is literally rationing the air supply of his opponent. “You’ll breathe when I say you’ll breathe” is such an intimate, inside-out type of corporal domination. In any case the phrase, “choked in the ropes and riding him like a pony” came up, which sent me tracking down that particular moment in homoerotic wrestling archives. So much intimacy. Such control. So much humiliation. Sweet.

0128_lg — This was the first image that came to my mind, of a raging, dominating rookie of the year Brad Rochelle in Wrestlefest 2 choking Patrick Donovan in the ropes, sitting on his shoulders as their fellow BG East wrestlers parade by slapping the wasted jobber in the face.

0410_lg — Seems like something about gorgeous Patrick Donovan inspired many opponents to climb on board his sweaty, sexy back and shut down his windpipe. Here Jarret Cole saddles up in Patrick’s Wrestler Spotlight DVD.

beau — Beau Hopkins feels the weight of gorgeous Vic Silver bearing down on him in Can-Am’s Canadian Musclehunk Wrestling 5.

coltstevens — Less riding the pony and more surfing the sucker, Colt Stevens crushes Gage Cordona’s throat underfoot in Rock Hard Wrestling’s Explosive Encounter.

h0904_lg — Dick Rick added a little torque hanging from the ring apron while choking the fight out of beautiful Mike Pitt in Ringwars 16.

leannmean — Can-Am’s Rush is the pony here, with Jay Moore reigning him in hard in Lean & Mean.

maxon — Bodybuilder Larry Janson is as humiliated as can be with irrepressible Brian Maxon holding him place with just one boot in Maxon vs. Janson.

The Victory Lap

August 12, 2015 wrestlebard2 Comments

Is there anyone else who gets off on that moment when a wrestler just totally fucks around with his beaten opponent just because he can? Of course there is.

h10_lg — Bulldog Barzini makes Denny Cartier witness his own humiliation staring back at him.

Personally, I prefer that little bit of juicy drama to cap off a suspenseful back and forth battle of brawn and brains. I like to be kept guessing, tempted back and forth to jump to the conclusion of which hot hunk is going to reign victorious, only to have my assumptions and predictions called into doubt over and over. Then, once one roaring stud is driving that bus all over his opponent’s bested body, it’s incredibly provocative for me to watch him just mess with the defanged loser. You know, flex in his face. Rip off his trunks. Or, and here’s the topic I’m working a head of steam up about today, toss his broken, once dangerous body across your shoulders and take a victory lap around the ring.

h0108_lg — Brad Rochelle looked nothing short of orgasmic pinning beautiful Patrick Donovan in front of a roaring crowd of their peers.

I’m certain that the most satisfying victory lap I’ve ever witnessed is from the opening match of Wrestlefest 2. Moments before being awarded rookie of the year, Brad Rochelle is in a surprisingly tough tussle with then notorious jobber, sexy Patrick Donovan. The stakes are higher than normal because there’s a packed audience of fellow wrestlers watching, critiquing, urging on the boys from ringside. Brad is the it-boy. He’s tanned and phenomenally toned. Fans have been popping their corks uncontrollably for the past year since Brad debuted at BG East. Patrick has been racking up loss after loss, each one seeming to inspire yet a longer line of prospective opponents who want to dig their fingertips into his luscious pecs and make the pretty boy scream. There’s some sweet back and forth to start the match. Patrick is no pushover. But Brad folds baby cakes up like a peanut butter sandwich, pinning Patrick’s shoulders with his noggin nestled nice and tight between Brad’s muscled thighs. Someone eagerly urges Brad to make him squeal. Brad takes the first fall to the applause of his peers, giving the jobber a light slap in the face somewhere between playful and insulting. The fan favorite babyface rising looks like he’s got the jobber’s sweet ass tied up in a bow.

0103_lg — Dazzling babyface totally humiliated by a “jobber.”

And then suddenly Patrick pounces. The lean, handsome stud with mouthwatering pecs flips over his opponent, folding Brad up in the very same, humiliating hold he was just submitted to. Patrick is raging, punching Brad’s ass, calling the jock stud a pussy. There’s laughter from the audience, as it starts to sink in that it-boy Brad Rochelle is currently getting his fantastic ass beat bad. Patrick refuses to relent until Brad is tapping, yelling out his humiliated submission. The boys ringside can hardly believe it, as Patrick pumps his fist in the air and then strolls over to take a seat on the top turnbuckle, soaking in the sight of Brad flat on is back in a pool of sweat, nursing his abused shoulder.

What happens next? Fuck, I love that suspense. As it turns out, Brad opens up a can of testosterone fueled, face-saving whoop ass to what climaxes to a standing ovation from the hooting audience. He’s working out a little rage at being publicly humiliated. He’s gratuitously brutal, egged on by his bruised ego and the cheers of the audience. Patrick is laid waste, and Brad hoists pec boy across he shoulders and jogs around the ring as the boys at ringside go wild. Brad’s face beams, feeling the victory deep down. He laughs at his total mastery, his complete ownership of the hot punk who a few minutes ago was calling him a pussy and punching him in the ass. Shimmering in sweat, flexed, magnificently victorious, he takes another lap just because the moment is so fucking sweet he needs to savor it.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more titillating victory lap. But I typically love one when I see it. It’s less compelling for me in a squash. When a boy’s been owned from start to finish, there’s less plot, less resolution of homoerotic wrestling tension wrapped up in a victory lap. But yeah, when all is said and done, it’s definitely value added for me to see a winner just fuck with his battered prey. Just because he can. Just because it feels good to demonstrate that he can do whatever the fuck he wants with all that potential, all that bluster and posing and prospective danger wrapped up in the muscled beauty beaten and now at his mercy.

26_lg — Brad relished the victory lap again against muscle hunk Billyboy.

20_lg — …and yet again in his legendary heel turn all over gorgeous Alexi Adamov.

18_lg — However, The Enforcer demonstrated this truism to Brad: karma is a bitch.

24_lg — Blue Rage dishes out the punishment and the victory lap humiliation all over Bad Dog.

08_lg — Cole Cassidy takes a leisurely stroll with Rob Berlin completely done.

11_lg — Dom the Dominator enjoys the feel of smart ass Rolando hanging helpless as he takes a lap.

h05_lg — Pausing from a victory lap, Shane Styles lets Brendan Byers see what complete humiliation looks like up close.

jake — Jake Jenkins gets a kick out of parading Eli Black around the ring with Eli’s partner impotently watching on from his corner.

h10_lg-1 — Nik Knox and Shane Layne can’t stop congratulating each other as they take tandem victory laps in their tag team beat down of Cameron Matthews and Paul Hudson.

0221_lg — Austin Cooper drove home the point that he’s the king of the ring by taking a victory lap with newbie Adam Atom.

From Asses to Kissing

July 1, 2014 wrestlebardLeave a comment

After Rudolph was the first to correctly identity the beautiful glutes in last week’s Name That Ass game, I asked him to name a topic he’d like to see a neverland post devoted to. He named a classic figure from BG East yesteryears who, I completely agree, has been woefully neglected in the pages of this blog. Honoring both Rudolph’s awesome game winner and the abundant merits of the sexy ass hunk in question, let’s chat just a bit about Sean Patrick.

Sean earned the name, “The Kisser,” by doing exactly that. He used those luscious lips to lock on to an opponent mid-match and suck the fight right out of him. He came out swinging in his notable debut against BG East fixture and ever-dangerous mat daddy, DW, in Undagear 2 (you may have to ask for it, since I don’t see it listed in the online catalog at this point). A hot, long, sexy rookie leading with his lips is quite a way to establish your credentials, so it’s little wonder the BG East boys starting lining up to sample Sean’s wares.

sean5 — Sweaty Ted Hamill was apparently so satisfied by every inch of Sean’s body in Wrestleshack 3 that Ted never wrestled again!

I’ve mentioned before my impression that Christian Taylor became Sean’s heir apparent a few years later. The two bear more than a passing resemblance, at least in my estimation. Very similar body types. Less than an inch in height difference. Classically handsome, dark haired, luxuriously long. And they both have lips that absolutely scream out for some mid-match suckface. Like Christian, there was an instant, intuitive homoerotic passion whenever Sean climbed on board. Kissing shows up with remarkable regularity with both of these pretty boys.

sean7 — Sean clearly had a major oral fixation!

Sean inaugurated the Sexy Showdown series at BG East in his sophomore release. His opponent, Kurt Eriksen, came loaded for bear in order to work over the audacious rookie who had the nerve to completely distract Kurt’s buddy, DW, with those sexy lip locks. So, in a way, the very concept of the Sexy Showdown franchise his built upon Sean’s searching, probing, aggressively grasping lips. There’s no need in Sexy Showdown 1 (or 2, or 3, or 4… Sean starred in them all) to read a homoerotic subtext. The eroticism is right in your face, or, more accurately, planted squarely across the lips of his opponents.

sean2 — Iain Scott nearly rips Sean’s head off in his eagerness to taste those lips!

He regularly wrestled his way right out of his gear, and the lovely, lean stunner had an ever-ready rod proportionally long and, appropriately enough, a magnet for the mouths of many opponents. Sean broke-in epic muscle stud Iain Scott in Sexy Showdown 3, and the meat of both of these incredible studs played prominently in the explosive finish. In Showdown 4, Sean’s sword was once again unsheathed by sweaty muscle pig Bud Orton, who uses Sean’s incapacitation in a steamy figure-4 headlock to make the Kisser lose his load, and the match, but in Sexy Showdowns, who really loses?

sean8 — Hottest homoerotic wrestling finish in history? This has got to be a contender!

Sean also helped inaugurate the Tag Team Torture franchise, starring in what I continue to think of as the paradigmatic example of the essence of homoeroticism in wrestling by teaming up with Patrick Donovan and running into the brutal heel-buzzsaw of vicious, sadistic, perpetually horny Cruze and Jose. There’s so much right about that bout. The pitch perfect positioning of beautiful, lean babyfaces staring down meaty, hungry heels is spot on. Sean and his brave compatriot, Patrick, play their parts with skills that no pair of rookies should be able to, bravely flinging themselves again and again into the breach. And the 2-on-1 double teams, brutal humiliation, and total disregard for common decency of Cruze and Jose send this match hurtling headlong into a genre-defining moment, as Sean and Patrick are stripped naked (Cruze also peels off his own trunks, but just because he’s so fucking turned on!), brutalized, and stacked like cordwood in an innovative double-dose suffering of a camel clutch/boston crab combination. Just for kicks, and judging by the size of Cruze’s erection, he’s getting a major kick out of it, the heels finally force the doomed babyfaces into face-to-face simultaneous camel clutches, topping off (me) the homoeroticism by forcing the humiliated twosome to suck face on command. That’s got to be in my top 5 most insanely sexy matches!

sean3 — Sean commandingly put Ian Nesbitt right where he wanted him.

Sean cemented his credentials as one of the founding fathers of explicit sexiness in homoerotic wrestling by starring in two X-Fights, first against Dick the Prick in X-Fights 22, then against Ian Nesbitt in X-Fights 23. Check out this sizzling match description of The Kisser at the peak of his wrestling prowess and reputation:

“As this erotic epic begins “the Kisser” traps cute Ian in a vicious spladle neckcrank and the tone is set for some very aggressive mat mayhem. The feisty Scot counters with a ballgrab and a surfboard submission, but that just provokes Sean’s mean streak: Ian soon finds his face repeatedly forced into Sean’s crotch, wedged under his bare feet, defenseless against Sean’s infamous liplocks! After Ian “wedgies” his trunks, Sean cranks on a nasty boston crab and then makes him scream in a surfboard. Visibly horny, Sean strips the now less-resistant Ian, trapping him in a nude guillotine/legsplit complete with cocklock and kissing! More humping, more feet in face, with Ian finally “exploding” his load trapped in Sean’s figure-4 headscissors. As Ian cries “I submit,” Sean shoots his load on the Scot’s pretty face. Intensely erotic mat punishment. HOT!”

Sean’s final match. as far as I can tell, was against his former tag team partner Patrick Donovan in Submissions 6. Apparently there was no love left by the time the two lean stars collided on the mat. Maybe the shared public humiliation at the hands of Cruze and Jose was what ratcheted up their Submissions 6 collision to such a vicious, fevered pitch. There was still kissing, of course, but holy fuck, it was so brutal, so aggressive! They nearly rip each other’s heads off in this battle. Face sitting, crotch-ripping, neck-wrenching full nelsons and tit-for-tat guillotines… maybe this was always going to be about determining who has to walk away with the lion’s share of the Tag Team Torture 1 shame. Whatever the reason, we don’t seem to have heard from The Kisser since settling his score with Patrick.

So, on behalf of Rudolph, let me just put this out there into the ether: what did ever happen to Sean Patrick!? Is he still wrestling somewhere? Is he a corporate banker with 3 kids and a 4th wife? Rudolph wants to know, and I’m first in line if anyone can track The Kisser down for an interview. Spread the word. Lots of us have plenty of love left for Sean Patrick!

Trunk Pull Tuesday

January 14, 2014 wrestlebardLeave a comment

It never hurts to have a little extra leverage to get the job done. Well, it doesn’t hurt unless you’re the job getting done…

trunkpullkl — A classic image of the master at work: **Kid Leopard** grabs hold of anything he wants on Sailor Rob.

jonnytrunkpull — Jonny Firestorm doesn’t need the extra leverage, but he just enjoys adding that much more humiliation and brutality as he pounds gorgeous Z-man into jelly in **Hunkbash 14**.

trunkpullaryx — I’ve been longing to see what’s under Muscle Mask’s trunks for years. Leave it to Aryx Quinn to give us a sneak peak in **Masked Mayhem 11**.

trunkpulljose — Because a 2-on-1 mugging isn’t advantage enough, Jose also nearly rips Patrick Donovan’s trunks off as he winds up for another crushing blow in **Tag Team Torture 1**.

Wednesday’s Woes

October 30, 2013 wrestlebardLeave a comment

I keep thinking that I’ve run out of sexy Trees of Woe to feature for my alliterative Wednesday post, but alas and again, another assortment to amuse the aficionado of the application of this hot hold.

woekendecker — Kid Leopard demonstrates woe from multiple angles on hunky, hung, hung-out-to-dry Ken Decker in BG East’s Demolition 4.

woecutler — Dick the Prick has muscle hunk Casey Cutler right where I want him as he grinds waves of woe in BG East’s **Ring Wars 3**.

woebbw — The source of endless woe, Brooklyn Bodywrecker digs his elbow deep into trapped Mark Nelson in BG East’s **Demolition 3.**

woezach — Jonny Firestorm first holds Zach Zilver suspended by his hair in a ToW, then let’s go, pounding the twink’s head into the mat in BG East’s **Demolition 10**.

woebrad — Who here wouldn’t trade places with young Patrick Donovan, trussed up so sweetly in a ToW and then finding hot young hunk Brad Rochelle’s muscled ass resting on your face?! It’s in BG East’s **Wrestlefest 2**!

Winning the Hard Way

October 15, 2012July 1, 2013 wrestlebard5 Comments

Jake Jenkins is stunning to watch use those muscles to choke out Eli Black

Sometimes I think of myself as a homoerotic wrestling kink therapist. I often hear from wrestling fans who have questions and problems they want solved with regard to homoerotic wrestling. “Tell BG East to…” or “Why does Rock Hard Wrestling always…?” And not uncommonly, I get messages from readers who tell me that they “just need to vent.” For example, a reader and homoerotic wrestling fan recently “vented” to me in an email regarding a recurring frustration. Like me, he’s a major Jake Jenkins fan. And like me, he enjoys watching Jake kick ass. So when he sees a lot of JJ’s new releases in which the stud puppy clearly gets squashed, he’s irritated. This reader knows my recurring answer to these types of questions: tastes vary. Some of us likely get more kink for the buck to see a hot muscle kid like JJ dominated, while others of us get a harder push over the edge by watching handsome Jake on the conquering in of the equation. But this reader still questions what makes those on “the other side” tick, and what makes them want to see more and more of JJ getting owned.

Jake goes down in a puddle of sweat beneath a victorious Kid Karisma

This exchange brought to mind a similar brief correspondence I had with a reader several months ago, who asked me to exercise influence over Steel Muscle God to convince him to tape some wrestling action in which the godly one gets dominated. This is hardly the first time someone has vastly overestimated my influence. And it’s actually not the first time I’ve heard this particular plea. Personally, I LOVE watching SMG totally use an opponent, particularly one of those hot muscleboys he’s pummeled lately. There’s an absolutely intoxicating scene in SMG’s recent release of a ring “bout” in which he repeatedly sleepers a hot, hard hunk. He puts the fiesty stud out flat on this stomach, and I’m 110% on board with the sell that this is an actual choke out. The hunk goes limp like a noodle. And when SMG shakes and shoves him and rolls him over, the hottie looks absolutely out cold. SMG prods and pokes the unresisting hunk, standing over top of him and flexing his guns, leering down into his slack face, until finally after a half a minute or so, the vulnerable hunk of meat comes to. Fuck me there something so erotic about that little exchange!

Steel Muscle God wreaks divine justice all over another hot muscle buddy

But ripping myself back to my topic for today. Some readers have repeatedly complained that SMG “always wins.” Why doesn’t he star in a muscleboy-in-trouble-scenario for those desperately waiting for him to stroke that g-spot where many fans get topped off by the powerful muscle stud shocked, laid out and humiliated? For the record, SMG has said that he does have a wrestling match in which he “loses,” but I haven’t actually seen it (I think you have to buy it separately from the membership site, and I’m too frugal). But the issue seems to be repeated from many of my kink therapy clients: “my getting off on a homoerotic wrestling match requires that my primary object of lust win (or lose).”

Brad Rochelle wrote the book in making a muscleboy loser epically homoerotic.

And both of these conversations call to mind still another set of exchanges I’ve had with a long-time commentator and avid student of homoerotic wrestling who more than once has chided me that I’m too focused on who wins and who loses. What tweaks the subconscious wrestling kink, he argues, is almost entirely unrelated to specifically whose shoulders are pinned to the mat or which hunk sobs, “I give!” The passion play that homoerotic wrestling presents us is about themes broader than the specific “winner” or “loser,” like broken egos, revenge on bullies, the battle of might versus right, or our personal secret longings to be dominated or to dominate. And, this commentator has also argued, it’s about much more specific elements than the literal “win” as well, such as the particular sell of suffering, how persuasively we’re sucked into longing to see someone punished, the precise angle at which a wrestler’s lower back is pried backward in a Boston crab that convinces us he’s hurting while simultaneously displaying is gorgeous body and bulging package so tantalizingly. There’s definitely the school of thought that literal “winning” and “losing” is almost entirely beside the point.

Brad Rochelle also looks GORGEOUS milking victory out of Patrick Donovan’s withering body!

I’ve pushed back against that hard line. I think the drama of coming out on top is very central to what strokes my homoerotic wrestling kink. The notion of two powerful men, both fully expecting to be top-stud as they climb into the ring is precisely the tension that thrills me. One of them will end up defeated, knocked down a peg, put in his place, while the other will stride out of the ring victorious, top dog, in control. Turn this into a non-competitive, everybody wins, nobody loses, passionless dance of pretty bodies, and I might as well be watching a yoga class, which even when the bodies are smoking hot, it’ll never do for me what a hot wrestling match does.

Pectacular Patrick Donovan also looks dizzyingly hot slapping down a humiliating victory all over Z-Man’s beautifully vulnerable muscle-bod.

And then there’s one last mental association I’m having with all of this talk of winners and losers. At the BGE Headquarters discussion group, someone who has frequently commented on this blog wrote a seemingly straightforward opinion, suggesting that he’d prefer the initial photo galleries in the membership site of BGE not “give away” which wrestler wins and which one loses. He suggested that he’d prefer to maintain the suspense, particularly for those matches that he’s planning on purchasing. Give him enough time to get the new release shipped to him before revealing who ends up top dog.

Z-Man can also delight in victory as he rips apart loser muscle boy Brody Hancock

Personally, I think this sounds entirely reasonable and well-reasoned. However, another commentator left a bizarrely mismatched diatribe mocking anyone who could “believe these matches aren’t fake.” This commentator prejudices his own oddly aggressive response by tying them to appalling politics, but my point is actually not his apparent political self-hatred. My point is really that he misses the point entirely. The point is not how choreographed wrestling-for-pay may be in any given example. The question of wanting to milk the suspense of not knowing who wins is wholly unrelated to whether the wrestlers or promoters are staging the matches as melodramas rather than as Olympic sport. It seems to me that the investment many of us have in winners or losers in homoerotic wrestling is entirely about how wrestling speaks directly to our erotic fantasies, not some “objective” evaluation of who, in a fair fight, would kick whose ass.

Babyface Brody Hancock also make victory look so, so sexual when he puts magically nippled muscle hunk Cody Nelson on his back for good.

Suspense, anticipation, the establishment of tension in the plot, the development of compelling characters who establish motivation and commit to their particular roles… these are essential elements of satisfying homoerotic wrestling as far as I’m concerned. However much a pretense it appears in any given match, the context of combat is a core component of what turns me on and tops me off as a homoerotic wrestling fan. It isn’t so much who would win in an actual barroom brawl (not at all, really), but who tells a provocative story about passion and heat, power and strength, skill and strategy, muscle and beauty, and, without a doubt, winning and losing.

Sweat soaked and savoring victory, Cody Nelson titillates musclebully fans when he crushes handsome, lanky, lovely Christian Taylor aka Chris Cox.

So why do some JJ fans never seem to get tired of seeing him humiliated and defeated? Why are others desperate to watch him use those gorgeous muscles of his to pick apart and make another hunk his bitch? How are some fans filled up on a steady diet of SteelMuscleGod owning one opponent after another, while others are insanely aching to see SMG crushed and dominated? I think this state of affairs is simply the landscape in which we live as homoerotic wrestling fans. Our fantasies vary, even as we share a common passion for the eroticism of wrestling drama. It seems clear to me that winning and losing is far from beside the point, and who wins and who loses is directly and intimately tied to what strokes many of us hardest. It’s not that we’re naively buying into the competitive pretense of wrestling-for-pay. I for one love watching Olympic wrestling, but the hottest amateur match is only a fraction as sexy as even the average homoerotic wrestling product as far as I’m concerned. Explicitly homoerotic wrestling is much bigger than the raw rules and tests of strength and skill of amateurs, and more importantly, the point is entirely different. The point of amateur wrestling is entirely winning and losing. But the point of homoerotic wrestling is to get you and me off, and while it’s not the whole story, the drama of winning and losing is one of the elements that makes wrestling the kink that defines me (and many of you!).

For my tastes, Christian never looked hotter than when he brutalized his lover and rumored-to-be tag team partner Skip Vance, tying together homo, erotic, and wrestling in as beautiful a bow as any victory ever has!

Still-Frame Fantasies

June 5, 2012July 1, 2013 wrestlebard1 Comment

I’ve been working my ass off so hard that the month of May is pretty much a wash when it comes to my favorite past-time: checking out new homoerotic wrestling releases. I’m just throwing in the towel and putting an asterisk in the homoerotic wrestler of the month competition for May 2012. The throne will remain empty for the month. I have a strong suspicion that there will be a new title holder once June has played out, however. BG East has released Catalog 93, and it’s packed with some of my long time fantasyman crushes as well as more recent infatuations, any one of which could (and most of them have) easily bitchslapped the competition and claim the title. I’m also entranced with the hotness of new Rock Hard wrestler Britboy Will Stanley landing just in time for the queen’s diamond jubilee. Only 5 days into the month and based solely on still-frame fantasies, here are the immediate front runners for June’s title.

Denny Cartier crotch pins Joah Bindao

Denny’s back! Just the photos alone of hot Denny Cartier can tide me over, and in his Gazebo Grapplers 13 appearance he’s looking tastier than ever. Those eyes, that smile, the dimpled chin, wide strong shoulders, gorgeous chest, luscious ass, strong legs, and look at those forearms… all of that and some of the highest quality grappling I love, and Denny could easily be a 2-time homoerotic wrestler of the month. And hot little muscleman Joah Bindao is definitely a rising stock.

Jake Jenkins threatens to dismember Jayden Mayne

Gazebo Grapplers 13 is catching me eye from start to finish, including Jake Jenkins looking possibly hotter than I’ve ever seen. Is it the trunks? Is it that hot, “monkey boy” body? Is it that his eyes looking like he’s about to carve into Thanksgiving turkey as he stares down handsome scrapper, Jayden? Jake’s done it once and could easily do it again, wrestling his way into another homoerotic wrestler of the month title.

Joshua Goodman’s crotch might choke out Christopher Bruce!

And yet another Gazebo Grapplers 13 match is turning my crank in still-frame! Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) could read the phone book and I’d be off before he got to Aanerud (as long as he’s in nothing but those skimpy white trunks)! I’ve never seen a Mr. Joshua match that fails to make me weak in the knees, and pitting him against perennial powerhouse and sexy thinker Christopher Bruce could easily propel either of these men into the lead. It seems impossible that Mr. Joshua has not yet owned the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month. Could his Susan Lucci moment arrive in June?

Stinger in trouble from every angle!

My, oh my, Masked Mayhem 7 could be a superhero homoerotic wrestling fantasy for the record books! Lean, sexy Stinger’s partner doesn’t show up, and the brave masked man agrees to face both legendary heel Cage Thunder and his new tag partner, unmistakably menacing long, hard hottie Lightning Rod. Cage Thunder has yet to own the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month on these pages, but could this be the month on the strength of what looks like an astonishingly sexy, brutal double-team?

Skip Vance in agony under the control of Kid Karisma

Speaking of astonishingly sexy, the pairing of incredibly hot champion jobber, Skip Vance and my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (non-pornboy division), Kid Karisma, has the potential to be epic! I’ve lobbied the boys at BG East for a long-overdue Wrestler Spotlight starring Kid K’s world class muscle ass! Skip hasn’t held the title, but Kid K was living large and in charge as homoerotic wrestler of the month 11 months ago. Either of these stunners could easily own it this month.

Fiercely hot newbie Diego Diaz launches Morgan Cruise

Neither Morgan Cruise nor newbie heartthrob Diego Diaz have held the homoerotic wrestler of the month title yet, but I could easily see their face-off for Morgan’s Spotlight earning one of them the distinction for June. Hurricane Morgan is like a force of nature lately, leveling every hot, hunky face placed in his way. And ripped, snarling, Latino powerhouse Diego has captured my imagination like no current newcomer. It’s a rare feat to be homoerotic wrestler of the month on the strength of just 2 matches, but the Latino giant could definitely make that happen.

Mitch Colby makes batboy Aryx Qinn pucker up

Mitch Colby has owned every title I could ever dream up. If Mitch and Diego Diaz were to ever tag team, my life could very well be complete. In the mean time, his hairy chested, sweat soaked ring pounding with Aryx Quinn makes Mitch an instant contender for a 2nd trip to the winner’s circle.

Austin sweats through his jock while he shows off Patrick Donovan’s best side.

Austin Cooper is everywhere lately! For sheer ironman hotness (not to mention Goldenboy beauty and a top notch bubble butt) Austin is a contender for the title he has yet to possess. And Patrick Donovan is an instant contender, and I strongly suspect that Patrick has made a pact with Satan, because he’s done nothing but get sexier and more gorgeous with each and every match he’s wrestled in his long and lustrous career! That ass alone deserves a title, and he could absolutely deserve the homoerotic wrestler of the month title for his Matmen 23 face-off with the Goldenboy.

Austin does chiropractic work on Britboy rookie Will Stanley.

And my last instant infatuation for the first 5 days of June is Rock Hard Wrestling’s rookie lovely, Will Stanley. See, Austin’s back (making for 2 nominations for the title this month), but like Joe, I’m immediately craving a closer look at handsome, ripped hunk Will Stanley. That body, that ink, that face, AND an accent? Nostalgia alone could tip the scales to Will Stanley, Esquire, in honor of the queen’s diamond jubilee.

Hot, hot, hot start to summer, homoerotic wrestling fans!

Grapefruits

November 4, 2011July 1, 2013 wrestlebard5 Comments

Have you voted for this month’s homoerotic wrestler of the month yet? If not, pick your wrestler of choice at the top right of this page. The poll closes tomorrow, and as of my writing of this post, it’s a barnburner battle between the Can-Am boys so far. I’m fascinated to see how the final numbers play out!

Tyrell Tomsen large and in charge against Patrick Donovan

In the mean time, I’ve been enjoying (and I do mean enjoying!) some wrestling that earned nominations for homoerotic wrestler of the month two months ago. BG East’s Wrestler Spotlight on Patrick Donovan is profoundly pleasing to me. Patrick and Tyrell Tomsen’s sun room mat match is hot as hell, and I do believe Patrick brings out the sexiest wrestling performance from muscle hunk Tyrell that I’ve seen so far (and I’ve loved Tyrell in everything that I’ve seen!). Their bodies present a stunning contrast, with Tyrell’s thick, bodybuilder muscles and dark brown skin in as tight an embrace as physically possible with Patrick’s pale, long and lean (but muscled) physique. Patrick has become the king of pec punching, as far as I can tell, and big, meaty pecs like Tyrell’s are an incredible target for Patrick’s solid, concentrated, sadistically thrilling, drilling poundings.

Mr. Joshua and his grapefruit

It should come as no surprise, however, that my greatest infatuation is with Patrick’s ring bout against former favorite homoerotic wrestler – nonpornboy, Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!). Sweet mother of God, Mr. Joshua is driving me insane with lust! The attitude, the ass, those fucking amazing legs, the ripped abs, gorgeous pecs, and sculpted arms, combined with that coverboy handsome face works me with an intensity that makes me seriously consider whether Kid K should get demoted back out of the standings of my top ranked homoerotic wrestlers – nonpornboy division.

Mr. Joshua pins Patrick with his #1 asset

While not as stunning a visual contrast as Patrick’s pairing with Tyrell, Mr. Joshua and Patrick are well-formed, distinct wrestling characters that so many of us have come to know and lust after. The latest incarnation of Patrick is that of a serious, dangerous heel who has learned from years in the business the finer arts of physical punishment. Patrick is a viper. His lip curls in concentration and practiced focus as he dominates Mr. Joshua’s incredible body. He clearly enjoys his work, but he’s not at all light-hearted. He’s deadly serious, even as he slaps down thick sarcasm and taunting. Everything from Patrick is in the service of conquering his opponent. An early flurry of offense catches Mr. Joshua flat-footed, and Patrick puts him on his back folds his legs up to his ears and slides his crotch forward to shove his balls into Mr. Joshua’s face humiliatingly.

Patrick introduces Mr. J to teabagging

“Mr. Donovan!” Joshua gasps and sputters. “You know I don’t like being teabagged!” And there, you can see that Mr. Joshua has an entirely different ring demeanor. Even on his back with his sweet, sweet ass splayed vulnerably in his opponent’s control, Mr. Joshua is a smart ass. I mean that with complete love and respect, mind you. Mr. Joshua is through-and-through a smart ass. He loves the one-liners. He clearly, intensely loves to dominate. I’m captured in this match by his laughter. He laughs domineeringly, of course, but there are more than a couple of moments when he’s got Patrick in a really, really bad way, completely in his control and squirming in agony, and Mr. Joshua chuckles long and sincerely. Mr. Donovan may be all about getting down to business, but Mr. Joshua wants to stop and smell the roses (and the humiliation) along the way. He wants to have some fun (in the nastiest, meanest, most dominating and humiliating way possible) as he does what he does best: turn me on!

Patrick, channeling Bard, with more than a handful of Mr. J’s pride and joy

Mr. J’s cocky clowning seems to get under Patrick’s skin, and the lean veteran appears to work fixedly on the task of pounding the shit-eating grin off his opponent’s gorgeous face. A nasty slap to Mr. J’s hot pecs seems to do the trick. Mr. J clearly takes offense, and his smile fades in a mix of anger and pain. He retaliates with a sweet, loud crack across Patrick’s ass that even hurts just watching it. Patrick doesn’t manage to beat the smart ass out of him, but he effectively puts Mr. J on notice that any lapse, any loss of focus in order to showboat and monologue will earn him swift and painful punishment.

Patrick & Mr. Joshua make me a believer in spandex

I’m generally not a fan of spandex leggings on my wrestlers, but both of these boys do absolute wonders squeezed so tightly into their mid-level gear. The shiny fabric sculpted to Mr. J’s glutes like a layer of paint is completely hypnotizing. After a couple of minutes, I’ve decided that Patrick and Mr. J are already making me fire on all cylinders even with so much of their beautiful legs covered. That does not, however, make me any less exultant at the rip and strip angle of this match. When Patrick pulls off Mr. J’s training pants, my heart skips a beat. “Fine,” Mr. J. concedes without appearing too concerned or surprised by Patrick’s determination to strip him. “Take them off. I know thats what you’ve beeen wanting to do anyways.” And for that, Patrick is nothing short of my own personal avatar in his bout.

Mr. J is more than eager to do some stripping of his own

Mr. J’s smart mouth and all of those other components of his alchemy over me are in full force in this match. Every time he shoves his hand down the front of his trunks and adjusts the ballast therein, my familiar lust/hate relationship with Mr. J comes to the foreground. Either he’s smuggling a porterhouse steak down there, or he’s got mammoth balls that I’m desperate to get a gander at. When he bodysplashes on top of Patrick, followed up by repeatedly pounding himself, cock-to-cock into his agonized opponent, yet again my identification with Patrick is almost desperate.

Nowhere else in the world I’d rather be!

The tables turn repeatedly in this match in such a way that I genuinely didn’t know which way the wind would finally blow, which is a plot that I appreciate A LOT in wrestling. I like a little suspense. I enjoy being surprised. I appreciate it when I find my loyalties, loves and lusts toyed with by the ebb and flow of a match back and forth, as I find myself torn between wanting more of both sides of the battle. But when Mr. J turns on the afterburner and eventually begins to pick Patrick apart with glee in his voice and an extra bounce in his chuckle, he has me as completely at his mercy as he eventually has Patrick. The figure-4, face-to-crotch head scissors that Mr. J treats Patrick to goes on for days and transports me body and soul into Patrick in that moment.

Since trunks can’t quite contain him, why, oh why,
does he continue to wear them?!

Once Patrick can’t peel himself off the mat, Mr. J does his customary shoving his hand down the front of his trunks. This time, however, he takes some time to gently massage his testicles, recovering from some particularly vicious assaults by his opponent. Mr. J marvels that, “When you’ve got balls as big as grapefruits, that hurts!” As Mr. J stands in the center of the ring, staring at the defeated body of his unconscious opponent, he once again digs around in his trunks. And in what I believe might be the first real glance we’ve ever had, his right testicle slides out of his trunks and hangs there for a while before he realizes it and manages to shove it back into its pouch. While possibly not literally of grapefruit proportions (or bowling ball proportions that I’ve suggested in the past), it’s obvious that Mr. J has no need to stuff his trunks with a porterhouse. He’s got major league beef all his own down there.

Mr. J enjoys bondage play and humiliating spitting on poor, pretty Patrick

The end of this match continues to push the fantasy that Mr. J has inspired in me for his entire career. His decision to tie Patrick’s wrists to the middle ropes and his ankles to the top ropes in the corner nearly makes me lose consciousness from the violent redirection of blood flow in my circulatory system. Then, Mr. J’s choice to grab a bottle of water to spit on his opponent’s helpless, hunky, conquered and splayed body is over the top erotic. But then, when Mr. J turns out the lights and angrily demands that the camera crew get the hell out as he climbs back into the ring to continue the story with Patrick off camera… well, I’ll just say that I’ve got at least three bodily fluids escaping simultaneously and spontaneously.

No…… where….. else!!!

Most of Mr. J’s matches leave me powerfully satisfied (and completely exhausted), and this one is no exception. The pairing of two pros with such extensive resumes is genius. More to the point, it’s a beautiful example of allowing homoerotic wrestling genius to tell its own story, to prod and provoke, to erotically inspire with literalism and fantasy, to know its fans, respect them, and tell a story ripped from our (or at least my) fondest imaginings.

Now, let’s see Mr. J drop the trunks entirely… and keep the camera rolling for the post-victory celebration!