Tag: Rio Garza

What’s Been Unsaid

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After nearly about a month and a half, I can finally spit out the metallic taste of blood from my mouth! When I made my pilgrimage to BG East in August, I was treated to the privilege of seeing photos from all of the catalog 89 new releases. It was a profound thrill, like being told that I, and I alone, could open all of my Christmas presents a week early. But then I couldn’t talk about it! I couldn’t write about it! I couldn’t obsess on the pages of this blog about each and every tantalizing, confidential morsel from catalog 89 that made my mouth water. I’ve been biting my tongue non-stop since August 5th, and I’m overjoyed that BG East has released catalog 89 for purchase. Let the obsessive reviewing begin (and the healing of my bitten tongue)!!!

I’m just hitting a few highlights for today, because there’s just too much that I’ve had bottled up that I’ve got to say about so many of the new releases. So in addition to nearly making want to cry to see Mitch Colby barefoot in the ring in Florida Fights 3, I’ve been aching to comment on match #1 from that same DVD. Hell and damnation! Kirby Stone can WEAR a pair of skintight shiny pink trunks! That ass has most certainly caught my attention!
Pretty much precisely the same thing has to be said about Cain McDonald in his appearance (taking fall #1!!!) against Mikey Vee. The legs and ass on this grappler make me gasp! That face looks just about too juvenile to feel entirely guilt-free about, but that lower body is 100% guilt-free adult male entertainment.
Next up on the comments burning a whole in my belly: Dev Michaels looks like a fucking monster in the ring against slender, unclassically but undeniably handsome newbie, Lucky Loko. Man alive the two of them make for an astonishingly arousing picture! The fact that Lucky didn’t run screaming from the building on sight of Dev makes him a hot commodity in my book.
And speaking of monsters in the ring (I’ve been DYING to use that line!), has it escaped anyone’s attention that Attila Dynasty appears to be smuggling major meat in his trunks in his scissor fest against Trent Blaze?!!! If the summer Olympics have taught me anything, they’ve taught me that gymnasts are sexy as hell, and the pics of Attila’s acrobatics in the ring have caught me completely off guard. I had no idea from his debut to expect either all that Attila can accomplish without his feet on the ground, or the massive ballast in the pouch of those powder blues (I’m heading back to Backyard Brawls 7 right now for another look).
Next up, it simply must be said that the sight of Z-Man clawing Skrapper’s chest and swinging for the rafters makes me just about ready to pop right here and now. If I know Skrapper, however, Z-Man better not count him out a moment too soon!
And I’ve been anticipating the hating for a while, but I call it like I see it. And as much as the sight of Rio Garza’s body getting worked over (and that face crushed between his opponent’s legs) is like icing on the cake, the pics of Jimmy Gee’s slabs of beef that are his muscled ass has got the be the most delicious main course in this match for me.
I’ve also been aching to say that it’s about time for another installment of Wrestle Worship. I love this concept. I need more of this concept. And newbies Magnus and Surge appear to dish up an extraordinary amount of eroticism with delightful proportions of both wrestling and body worship. Does anyone else wonder if Magnus requires his own zip code? And speaking of numbers, does anyone have Surge’s telephone #!?
Again, I’ve been dying to celebrate the return of ripped, rock hard Tyrell Tomsen. I can’t think of a better opponent to pick apart a bodybuilder adonis than the likes of sexy-assed veteran Patrick Donovan.

And finally, Mr. Joshua, Patrick, barefoot, in the ring, with Patrick’s testicles getting crushed in Mr. J’s fist… You’ll have to excuse me now. I need to rehydrate after writing those words. I’m sure you’ll be hearing much, much more from me about all of this in the future.

The Taste of Victory

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Thank God I’m done with traveling… for a few weeks. Back in the comforts of my own home, I’m able to settle into the familiar routines, including carving out some time for one of my most enjoyable pass-times: appreciating homoerotic wrestling.
With my attention renewed on the topic that you and I find so enjoyable, I’m feeling the need to make aright my neglect of my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month: Kid Karisma. Typically by now, I’d have at least one or two posts vetting and venerating the hard working hunk who so ably captured the title at the beginning of the month. It’s certainly not as if I’m at a loss for things to say as I marvel at the body and body of work of the Karismatic one! I could write an encyclopedia of attributes that make Kid K such a commanding favorite of mine, and for which he also recently muscled his way past Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) to claim the top contender spot for my overall favorite homoerotic wrestler – non-pornboy division. There’s nowhere on Kid K’s body or in his wrestling arsenal that wouldn’t be appropriate to slow down and marvel for a while, but let me just start in a particular spot that’s been particularly responsible for my growing infatuation with the red-headed muscle hunk: his lips.
Perhaps this isn’t the particular geography that you’d have selected to begin to admire the remarkable assets of Kid Karisma, but it’s his liplocks that have been topping me off lately. I don’t own Kid K’s entirely library of work yet, but I believe that exactly twice he’s capped off a crushing victory over an awestruck opponent by grabbing the lucky, lucky loser’s head and commandingly, lingeringly sucking face.
The first time I caught sight of this truly inspired moment of Kid Karisma homoeroticism was in the Karismatic one’s hard-fought conquering of that stubbornly tough twink-punk, Len Harder in Sexy Showdown 5: Florida Fun. The sight of these two hot-and-bothered, sweaty specimens teetering on the edge of aggression and affection is profoundly stimulating for me. Kid K’s rippled, rock hard body stretched overtop of Len, crotch-to-crotch and lips-to-lips, makes me gasp. And then when Len sweetly, gently grabs Kid K’s gorgeous round glutes in both hands, as the red-headed juggernaut shoves his tongue down Len’s throat, all of my homoerotic wrestling kink synapses fire at once.
Despite less skin, Kid Karisma’s make-out with Christian Taylor in Wet & Wild 5 is arguably even more arousing for me. Despite being a half a foot shorter than Christian, Kid K is simply much more than Christian can handle. Kid K is cocky and taunting. He gives away just a little bit of riding time, but the match both in the pool and on the mat poolside is essentially and entirely in Kid K’s quite able hands. It’s a bit like watching a beautiful house cat drag a poor mouse inside to play with it mercilessly until he’s killed the rodent like his instincts demand. Kid K laughs at poor Christian. He smirks at Christian’s hopeless attempts to secure an advantage. Any moment that Christian rallies every ounce of strength and will to power to the top, Kid K just lets him tire himself out and than smacks him back down with contempt. And then when Christian is completely wasted, flat on his back, having submitted repeatedly until he barely has the strength to submit again, Kid K chokes Christian out cold with a completely unnecessary figure-4 clamped like a steel pipe across the loser’s throat.
That would’ve been enough to satisfy my devotion to a seriously sexy homoerotic wrestling beatdown. Christian suffers valiantly like the handsome, tall drink of water he is. Kid K preens and revels in his complete domination over his outmatched opponent. Tick, tick… all the boxes checked. This will be a match to come back to again and again. But then…
… Kid Karisma stretches across Christian’s motionless, supine body and wakes the spent stud with an almost compassionate kiss. Now that’s a way to wake up! Completing the fantasy that I’m too often left to write in my own imagination, Kid K quite literally savors the taste of his victory, and Christian realizes that every second of the whole humiliating, painful encounter was completely worth it. Compassion turns to passion, and the two handsome faces are locked together as Kid K assists the woozy contender to his feet. Sealing the deal, Christian grabs a handful of the Karismatic one’s meaty ass as he’s led inside for a post-match reconciliation.
There’s a lot that I could (and let’s face it, that I will) obsess lustfully about when it comes to Kid Karisma’s body and wrestling accomplishments. But it’s what he’s willing to do with those sweet, hot lips of his that make him rise to the top of what I enjoy most in homoerotic wrestling. I realize that not everyone enjoys seeing kissing in their homoerotic wrestling fare. In fact, I’ve heard from some of you that it’s a turn-off. Mores-the-better for the diverse industry that feeds our cravings. As for me, however, the marriage of skilled wrestling storytelling with homo-sensibilities of erotic pleasure is the essence of what arouses me most (full stop). For Kid K’s full arsenal of skills, especially including his liplocks, his stock is very much on the rise in my infatuations. In no small part due to everywhere his lips have been, Kid Karisma is sitting pretty atop the throne as my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month.

A Feast for the Senses

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I’m coated in sweat at this moment. Normally, that might be a signal of something hot and thrilling going on for me. But at this moment, it’s just a symptom of my low tolerance for heat and humidity. However, it brings me back to the topic that I’ve expounded on many times before: my love of sweat-lubricated homoerotic wrestling.
Landon Mycles v Michael Vineland – Can-Am’s Pro Sex Fight 1
Yes, please! There’s something that much more intimate about two hunks wrestling lathered in sweat. The lubrication is itself part of the association with value-added arousal, I’m sure. Less friction, harder and hotter action. Just an application of lubricant can bring me to full attention, so an entire body coated in lubricating sweat is profoundly arousing.
Sweat-Pig Extraordinaire Bud Orton v Kevin Shea –
BG East’s Wrestleshack 6

It’s not just the physiology of a penile reflex to lubrication, though. Just the sight of sweat dripping off a wrestler’s nose or chin makes me light headed. There’s a deep, homoerotic masculinity about a sweat-soaked body engaged in combat. When the hair is plastered to the scalp, wringing with sweat, when beads are dripping off the brow like a leaky faucet, the wrestler becomes even more an object of primal, sexualized strength and domination than he was before. The smell of fresh sweat, still clinging to the body, is like vintage wine, stimulating all the senses at once.

Rio Garza v sweat-soaked Chris Bruce – BG East’s Undagear 17

I’m a fan of sweat-soaked gear, as well. The gear that allows you to trace the path of moisture pouring from the pores is extra goodness. Peeling off sweaty gear is even more erotic. The hollow sound of heavy, soaked gear slapping against skin or smacking the mat is over the top arousing for me.

Lickable Denny Cartier v Mikey Vee – BG East’s Mat Hunks 8

And, as I’ve mentioned before, in addition to a visual, tactile, olfactory and auditory arousal associated with sweat, there are some prize homoerotic wrestlers bodies that, when coated in a sheen of sweat, I find myself desperately fantasizing about licking. I’d like to see more licking in my homoerotic wrestling. The primal sensuality of tasting your opponent’s body, the pairing of domination and caressing as your tongue slides across the salty surface of a hunk’s muscles, is powerfully thrilling.

Asses Named

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There were no grand prize winners for this week’s quiz, but these are some choice asses that you’ll want to know much better, if you don’t already. So pull out your answers and let’s see how you did:

Ass #1 belongs to…
… BG East’s Jordan.
So, it seems that the BG East website confuses “just” Jordan with Jeff Jordan, so even though this exotic dancer only wrestled three times (I hope my slightly inaccurate clue wasn’t misleading yesterday), he has a list of 10 products under his profile. Here, Jordan was unfortunate enough to be tossed into the matroom with one of my favorite classic muscle bullies, Mikey Vee, in Mat Hunks 5. All that  pretty that Jordan brings with him is seriously compromised by the studly buzzsaw that is Mikey. We’ve got Brad Rochelle to thank (so goes the story) for convincing his dancer-rival to settle their rivalry on the BG East mat and in the ring (just one more thing we need to thank Brad for!).
Ass #2 belongs to…
Thunder’s Arena’s (and about to debut with BG East) Devin.
 Devin has the distinct look of someone that I want on my side in a bar fight. He’s got such a huge, solid physique, and that gorgeous ass of his is simply awesome. He’s sold as a competitive MMAer, and this match for Thunder’s pits him against a Russian stunner, Eagle, that Devin reportedly connected with in his MMA travels. Mat Rats 1 is a delight for those who like to watch a tenacious, fast, and confident smaller guy really hold his own (and his opponent’s, for that matter) against a big muscle bruiser. And Eagle has a hot, tight body and a very sexy deep voice, with more of an Ohio accent than a “direct from Russia” one. But it’s Devin’s suffering that works for me above all else here.
Ass #3 belongs to…
…BG East’s Sandro.
Wow. Have I mentioned that already? Wow. The rest of Sandro is pleasing to look at, and he’s fun to watch wrestle, but again I say, that ass is first rate. This posed pic of Sandro from his absolutely most flattering side (behind) comes from his first published match, facing off against CJ Parker in Wrestleshack 11. It looks like CJ spends days trapped with his face shoved into Sandro’s crotch, which I’m sure is all sorts of delight, but how any of Sandro’s opponents manage to do anything other than squeeze that luscious bubble butt of his is beyond me.
Ass #4 belongs to…
Thunder’s Arena’s Iceman.
 Stay Puft has mentioned that Iceman is one his his favorites, and it’s not hard to see why. I’d pay money for a body scissor between Iceman’s golden, massively thick quads. His ass doesn’t fall into the category of “bubble” by any means. Granite more like. And clearly he has balls for days to even play around with the likes of Johnny Bravo in Bodybuilder Battle 5 (is that a future Name That genre? Name Those Balls…).
Ass #5 belongs to…
…everyone’s Rio Garza.
Here, we’re treated to a savage Rio wedgie at the hands of Jobe Zander for BG East’s The Breaking Point: Sexier release. Of course, just a few months later, we saw Rio and Zander going toe-to-toe yet again for Can-Am’s Rocking Rio. Rio has a whole lot of beautiful assets, but his ass has to be at or near the top of the list for me, particularly when he’s in his fitness model condition. Needless to say, a gorgeous side of beef like Rio is never in danger of completely missing the point, as long as he’s taking a nasty beating and suffering like a pretty boy ought to.
So well done to those of you who took a stab at this week’s quiz!

In the Ropes

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These days, I’m getting worked over pretty hard. I’m working my ass off, just managing to stay on my feet. And, wouldn’t you know it, just when I find myself backed into the ropes, some nasty heel villain uses those very same ropes to work me over that much harder.
KV v Ken Mason (assisted by KL) – Tag Team Torture 1
Metaphorically, this makes my day-to-day life these days suck. On the other hand, literally, when someone uses the ring ropes to take advantage of an already battered hunk, that does not suck (at least not for the heel or for me, watching). Turning the set into an integral prop to tell the story is, in fact, a major turn on for me, further explaining my particular preference for ring action.
Brigham Bell v Patrick Donovan – Hunkbash 5
Sliced to hell and mean as a king cobra, Brigham Bell pretty much always used the ropes, and most of the time he took full advantage by not only capturing his hunks in the ropes, but then head scissoring them at the same time. Illustrated so delightfully in his ring action with Patrick Donovan, ultra-lean, muscled bodies put on artistic display is the icing on the cake. The cake itself, of course, is the completely gratuitous humiliation of an already suffering hunk. To capture 6’1″ pec-tacular Patrick so defenselessly, so vulnerably, and then to squeeze Patrick’s handsome face humiliatingly between Brigham’s tightly corded thighs… talk about the climax of a story!
Brad Rochelle v Patrick Donovan – Wrestlefest 2
Patrick, Patrick, Patrick… early in his BG East career, Patrick frequently occupied the restraints of the ring ropes. He just suffered so sweetly! It’s no wonder that opponent after opponent reveled in beating him down and then tying him up to not only soak up more punishment, to also have his ego crushed as decisively as his hot, long, gorgeous body. On his way to being awarded Rookie of the Year in Wrestlefest 2 (I vote for more Wrestlefests!), Brad Rochelle slapped Patrick into what I think, objectively speaking, is the hottest bit of ring rope torture ever captured on camera. Hunk-on-hunk, stunning body on stunning body, handsome face squaring off against handsome face, and Brad taking a foreshadowing turn to the dark side to lock Patrick’s throat between the bottom to ropes and then boston crag his legs, sitting his fine (fine, fine, fine, fine) ass down across Patrick’s shoulders to choke him that much more. 

Brad Rochelle v Dom the Dominator – Demolition 3

Brad, Brad, Brad… of course, any regular reader of this blog is already fully immersed in the drama of Brad Rochelle’s BGE career, as his fratboy face and go-go boy muscles went through years of jobbing, suffering like perhaps none other, not infrequently himself trapped in the very same ropes with which he’d humiliated Patrick and won rookie of the year. Dom’s boot in his ass and his back cranked backward over the top rope, Brad’s rope-suffering illustrates what is the tastiest pay off of all with rope work: the stunning body of a hunk displayed so fully and vulnerably.

Rio Garza v Donnie Drake v “Trevor” Mathews – Pro Bashed Triple Threat
I noticed in recent pics from Can-Am’s new (upcoming?) release, Pro Bashed Triple Threat, that Rio Garza is on the receiving end of some tasty hunk rope punishment at the hands of Donnie Drake. This is, perhaps, the best representation of my own subjective experience at the moment. Clearly outmuscled and at the mercy of a nasty, big, brick house bastard, like Rio under the control of Donnie Drake, I’m getting pried backward and pounded on with nothing to do but take it and look pretty (I can pull that off, too).
As I whine, just a bit, about my own woes (I can sell suffering when it’s my turn), I find some comfort in the sight of some beautiful hunks getting tied up and beat down with the assistance of the ropes. Well, okay, so perhaps “comfort” isn’t the word. But it does, somehow, make the nasty heels in my own life a little more tolerable when I spend a little time admiring the aesthetics and erotics of homoerotic wrestling heels taking the picture frame itself and choking the daylights out of the stunning portrait of a musclehunk in the middle.

Wrestling Ink

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I think it’s been a while since last I took the time to marvel at the particular pleasures of wrestling ink. While I’m awfully entertained by many of my favorite wrestlers who manage to be a work of art and a blank canvas simultaneouslyl, I continue to nurse a visceral infatuation with tattooed wrestlers.
True, it isn’t Thunder’s Arena wrestler Big Sexy’s tattoos that make me marvel the most. It takes a lot for his extensive and colorful body art to fail to be the most eye catching feature on his fantastic physique. But there’s pretty much nothing that could beat that ass of his, though I, for one, would like to get in line for just that task. As his ass is true to his name, his expansive and gorgeous ink is also both big and sexy. His most recent scrap after calling out devasting muscle hunk, Ace Hanson, is just about the sexiest pairing of wrestling bodies I’ve ever seen.

Another recent Thunder’s match, Mat Wars 22, also has me appreciating some more wrestling ink. Perennial battler Angel is simply stunning for both his beautiful body and the delightful artwork. I’m also intrigued by the sizable crucifix tattooed on the ribcage of new wrestler, fratboy-deluxe, Jackson. Is it sacrilegious of me to note that the crucifix makes me hot to see Jackson suffer even more? Probably. Nevertheless…

Recent BG East matches have also been well-populated with ink lately. Newcomer Hoyt Riley already has a massive quantity  of body art, and it looks like he’s in the middle of getting more. Some outlines ready for shading make me wonder if his beatdown at the hands of Mitch Colby may have provided the down payment for another trip to his artist.

Far less expansive, but still sexy as hell are Jonny Firestorm’s armband and shoulder characters. I’d love to see Jonny both continue to heel and take more ink. Send the pretty, pretty boy rookies to Jonny and the legitimate wrestler rookies to Denny to break in. Denny and Jonny can fight over who gets to welcome the pretty, pretty boy legitimate wrestlers to BGE.

Last, but certainly not least, I’ve appreciated the gorgeous art on Can-Am’s Michael Vineland lately. I’m still a little giddy over his fantastic performance with rookie homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Landon Mycles in Pro Sex Fight 1. I’ve gone heavy on the appreciation of Landon’s performance, including making the pornboy turned “pro wrestler” last October’s homoerotic wrestler of the month for the effort. But credit where credit’s due, Michael accounts for at least 50% of the excellent salesmanship in this match, and he’s bigger and harder than I’ve ever seen him. He’s also got a lot of ink adorning those incredibly sexy, massive muscles of his.

Tag-Team Torture

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I’ve been getting more requests lately to collaborate on new wrestling fiction. Teaming up is one of my favorite genres in homoerotic wrestling, so this just seems to have all sorts of great potential.
I’ve been told by someone who should know that tag-team wrestling in the homoerotic genre is pretty difficult to manage. I don’t know if it’s coordinating schedules, having enough time to generate some entertaining chemistry, managing four bodies flying through the ring without any permanent damage… I could imagine any and all of these things could be obstacles to more tag-team homoerotic wrestling products.

And I suppose that some of the same potential pitfalls and obstacles to getting 4 hunks in the ring to tell one story may also have parallels in the work of co-authoring original fiction. Schedules, working chemistry, making sure no one gets a permanently injured ego… the give and take and intrinsic balance required to collaborate and co-author requires finesse. I firmly believe that not everyone can partner up with just anyone. And even when words get on the page, there’s that hard to define element of chemistry that just has to be there or else it isn’t…  All the moving parts might work, but if partners just aren’t in sync, it may just fall flat.

But when it works, teaming up can open up a lot of possibilities that are closed to me when I’m devoted to my singles career (so to speak). Teaming up to take on a big, big project that would probably defeat either one of us alone is a good example. Wrapping our minds and creative juices around a complex, yet hot property to double-team it into groaning submission can be a sweet, sweet victory. Of course the opposite is true as well. When you partner up to tackle the behemoth project and find that both your asses are handed to you in defeat, it can be just that much more humiliating.

Fortunately, my experiences with tag-teaming on writing projects has been pretty fun and, I think, successful. I like to think that I carry my end of the work load and that I’m pretty easy to work with. And so far, the partners I’ve stepped into the imagined ring with have been delightful to team with. When a new collaborator pushes me in a new direction, introduces me to new characters, and brings their own arsenal of innovation and creativity to a project, well frankly, that’s hot. Watch for some of these projects to get polished off with a double-teaming three-count and published to the Sidelineland wrestling fiction site in the coming weeks.

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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.

The Spice of Life

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Pyschology Today (via Towleroad, to me) has an interesting piece on the racial diversification of gay male porn over the past 3 to 5 years. Psychology Today is sort of like light beer… all packaging and marketing without much really satisfying inside. But I like the connections that the article draws between identifying what gay men find attractive and broader socio-demographic trends in racial politics.

As for me, I’m 100% in favor of more diversity. As a born-and-bred middle class suburban white boy, I was raised with deeply engrained, implicit lessons that chisel-chinned white boys are the physical ideal. Happily, just like other sexual tastes and attentions, I’ve since discovered that beautiful boys of all sorts of complexions offer treasures of objectified lusts.
I don’t really spend much of my time or money in the gay porn world, sans wrestling. It’s one long yawn for me. But even in the wrestling kink corner of homoerotica and porn, I think that we’re seeing more racial diversity and less a need to fetishize racial diversity, at the same time, which I think is a good combination.
Whereas it wasn’t long ago that products were prominently marketed that specifically catered to the tastes of those looking for cross-racial wrestling, these days when opponents reflect different racial-ethnic backgrounds, it most frequently goes uncommented on. In most cases, I think that’s progress. My homoerotic wrestler of the month, Bobby Horton, is a white guy who came into possession of that title on the merits of his smokin’ hot, edge-of-insanity dismantling of bodybeautiful muscle god, Tyrell Tomsen. I’m sure for many people still, a battle like that continues to be first and foremost a morality play in contemporary racial politics. And, true enough, the white boy delivers a beat down and humiliating defeat of the physically dominant black hunk, which stands in a long tradition of white fantasy about subduing and possessing the physical threat from men of color. But as far as I read the text (and I’ve been happy to read and reread that text over and over again to enjoy Bobby’s delightful performance) the story that’s primarily told is really about the battle between the beauty of brawn and the cunning of ring savvy. If anything, Tyrell plays the role of the refined, sculpted, entitled muscle god to Bobby’s crazy-ass, brutish, uncivilized short-cutter. I realize that this doesn’t eliminate the racial politics that play out in the homoerotic wrestling ring, but it screws with expectations and long-held prejudices enough to be at least resistant toward white privilege, if not entirely dismantling of it.
BG East has been promoting a lot of Latinos lately, and that’s 110% just fine with me. If white Eurocentric privilege managed to keep the likes of Rafe Sanchez (mmmm…. Rafe….), Rio Garza and Lobolito off of my shelf, my life would be much less entertaining.
Can-Am has been tossing the likes of Michael Vineland, Max Munoz, and yes, Rio Garza onto the mats, making their typically-happy-ending wrestling formula much more diverse than it may have been at one time.
Naked Kombat frequently puts up men of color, like recent battlers Jack Hammer, Derek Reynolds and Race Cooper. It’s not all one formula for fetishing the racial composition of the match, by any means. Depending on the fighters on any given day, Naked Kombat’s wrestlers of color end up battling each other or white guys, and they end up on top or on bottom with seemingly similar frequencies.
I’m intentionally taking a look at Thunder’s Arena with fresh eyes lately, particularly after reading the very enjoyable interview that Joe did with Mr. Mike and Ace Hanson at Ringside at Skull Island recently. Young stunner rookie AJ looks like another case in point of the expanding pool of skill and beauty to which homoerotically-inclined wrestling is turning.
More is better… variety is the spice of life… the pithy sayings go on and on to explain why it is that all of this is a very good thing. Still, I think we need to keep an eye on the way that racial politics play out even in (especially in) our erotic fantasies. I know, I know. It’s a buzz kill. But it also reveals something about what we believe down deep, how we live, and underneath any socialization or commitments to political correctness, how we picture ourselves in relation to racial difference. I like where things seem to be heading, and I think that we would all do well to remember where we’ve been, and the ways that racism have long played a major role in dominant homo-culture, much less hetero-culture, in the past forty years.

Where It Hurts

wrestlebard3 Comments


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.