Tag: Rusty Stevens

The Title Defense

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Rusty Stevens has been in possession of the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy for a little over three months. At 6′ and 200 pounds, Rusty is an astonishing hunk of grappling stardom. The tale of the tape shows Rusty’s undeniable strengths are his whip-like, on-your-feet-and-in-your-face dominating banter, his primal, ferocious growl when he kicks it into fifth gear, and his mouthwatering body that supports impressive speed and strength on the mats. Three months ago he ripped the title out of the hands of two-time champ, Mitch Colby, leaving Mitch stunned and hungry for a 3-peat claim on the title.
Enter the genius of Kid Leopard who specializes in making all of our wrestling fantasies come true. BG East arranged a head-to-head title defense of the champ and his #1 challenger. I don’t often get to enjoy my favorites in action with one another. I’m infatuated with stars from various production companies, of varying wrestling styles and genres, and the battle in my mind for who is my favorite is usually waged only in my own imagination. When I learned that Rusty would be defending his title in person against Mitch, I was giddy with anticipation.


I’ve watched the match repeatedly in the few days since it arrived. True enough, of the Breaking Point matches, it is, indeed, the sexiest. Rusty plays his strong suit like the defending champ he is as he walks into the room. He’s sneering and snarling his insults from go, working on beating down Mitch’s psyche by zeroing in on Mitch’s weaknesses. When he’s getting manhandled, true to form, Rusty taps into his inner neanderthal, his eyes glazing over with rage as primal, sexual ferocity roars from deep in his chest. And Rusty is in excellent shape. In fact, of the range of Rusty’s physical form over time (a little beefier in most of his Naked Kombat matches vs. a bit thinner and prettier in his earlier Can-Am bouts), I think he’s looking about as deliciously toned as I’ve ever seen him.

The most stunning factor as this match opens is Mitch. He’s not in the ripped-to-shreds shape of any of this prior matches. He’s even softer around the middle than his Naked Kombat appearance, which was the biggest I’d ever seen Mitch in action. With the extra weight on his 6’2″ frame, he’s moving a little slower (though speed has never really been his strength). Like a cruise missile, Rusty throws contempt at Mitch’s fitness, calling into question whether the challenger has it in him to go the distance.
I’m sure I’ll deconstruct this match-of-my dreams several times over on the pages of this blog, so let me just give you the most significant points that add up to the final decision in this title defense match. While I have a nostalgic preference for Mitch’s trimmer form, he’s still a sexy beast in this bout. Rusty is hardly a small man, but Mitch dwarfs him in a way that’s smokin’ hot. Nine times out of ten, when Mitch is serious about it, he muscles Rusty into nearly any position he wants to. When Mitch drops his ass down across Rusty’s chest as the champ lays flat on his back getting schoolboyed (he hates that), Mitch is one tasty main course of muscle domination. The series of very long-held bearhugs (front, back, side, everywhich way), are evidence that Mitch remains as strong as an ox and easily able to dish out crushing punishment as needed. Despite his fitness being a strike against him in my book, Mitch puts up one fantastic performance capped off with taking his competition commandingly in hand.
For the champ’s part, looking up at the hulking form in front of him, Rusty seems just a little thrown. He still delivers the snappy, domineering banter that propelled him to the top of the charts, but he doesn’t deliver with quite the biting cleverness he has in the past, which I credit to being seriously intimidated by how much space Mitch takes up in the small sun room. Still, Rusty delivers. Scrapping his way out of a tight spot with that primal roar, he makes me weak in the knees. He suffers better than I have ever seen him suffer before, which is a major advance for the champ in keeping his grip on the title. In the repeated crushing embrace of his challenger, Rusty sells with desperate choking and hacking, retreating to catch his breath with new found respect in his eyes for his competition. The camera work seriously plays into Rusty’s hands, as he works up a soaking sweat, making his spot-on competition form sparkle and highlight every gorgeous muscle.

In the end, though, the title defense is decided in my mind by the best line of dialogue I’ve heard delivered in a long, long time (perhaps ever). School-boying the challenger, his sweat soaked jock strap planted across Mitch’s forehead, Rusty buries Mitch’s face with self-congratulatory satisfaction: “I’m thinking you may want to say you give… but then again, my ass is in your face.”

And with that, despite a valiant, commanding challenge from the contender, even despite forcing several more submissions and sealing the deal with sexual domination… still… Rusty decisively retains the title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy. I think the defeat leaves Mitch vulnerable to getting knocked out of the top rankings, marking a stunning plunge from the top spot he commanded for most of the past year. I have no idea who might be ready to unseat the former champ from his coveted #1 contender spot… perhaps Derek might make a another seat soaked, punishment-whore run. I’d love to see Rafe Sanchez command the respect that he has yet to be given. Perhaps even a dark horse rookie, such as Naked Kombat’s delightful powerlifter funnyman, John Magnum, might smack Mitch’s ass on his way to dislodging the former champ from his ranking. Two things are for sure, though. 1) Rusty and Mitch’s Breaking Point match is profoundly satisfying homoerotic wrestling kink entertainment. And 2) a lot of homoerotic wrestling pornboys will now be gunning for the disappointed former champ now.

A League of Their Own

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I think of myself as a booster of the industry that produces homoerotic wrestling products. I get caught up in brand loyalty wars more than I care to, but when it comes down to it, I think the more creative, kinky minds producing homoerotic wrestling, the better. I’m more a booster of explicitly homoerotic wrestling than otherwise. Not to say I’m only kinked up by explicit sex wrestling, but rather I prefer companies that explicitly identify themselves as homo and erotic. There are a lot of companies producing wrestling for you and me who pull their marketing punches. I get it, that there’s a market for relatively closeted homoerotic wrestling. Hell, I was there myself a long time ago. But I think of coded, closeted homoerotic wrestling as more a transition object than the heart of what revs my engine these days. So these days, I think of wrestling with merely implied homoeroticism as sort of second-tier fun.
But all of that is just lead up to my unveiling a new category of favorites that I’ll be tracking from now on. For many months, I’ve been charting the title defenses of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboys. Mitch, then Derek, then Mitch again, and now Rusty have been sitting pretty atop the rankings. I’ll be posting on the match-of-my dreams head-to-head match up of champion Rusty vs. #1 contender, Mitch next week. In the mean time, as of today I’m starting to track a new championship division. It isn’t just the pornboys I love (though, let me reiterate, I LOVE the wrestling pornboys). So starting today, I’m ranking my favorite homoerotic wrestlers in the non-pornboy division.
The distinction here is that gorgeous muscle studs who go the full monty and crank off some onscreen cum shots are in a league of their own in my affections. But the boys who typically keep their cocks in their trunks still merit some virtual lovin’. If at any point there’s a dispute about who should show up in which division, my line in the sand is the cum shot. Any hot hunk on film working off a load has to compete with the likes of Rusty Stevens, and Rusty appears ready to beat (and eat) wrestling pornboy ass anytime.

Without further ado, allow me to unveil my top two rankings for homoerotic wrestlers in the non-pornboy division:
Sitting very, very pretty on top of the dais is the stunningly tight little package who made my jaw drop from the moment I first saw him last autumn: 5’7″, 150 lb, Lon Dumont.
I don’t pick up a lot of buzz about Lon, so I don’t know if I’m the only one whose buttons are so invariably pushed by him. The attraction for me exactly 50% body, 50% performance (and I rank them both a 10 out of 10… you do the math). He’s earned his way into claiming the inaugural championship title of non-pornboy extraordinaire. I’d donate the lower half of my liver for Lon to jump divisions and pound one out in a schoolboy pin on top of Rusty’s pecs, but in the meantime, Lon’s at the top of the new non-pornboy division for me.
His number one challenger is also no stranger to the pages of this blog. 5’10”, 180 lb, Joshua Goodman, (that’s Mr. Joshua to you), would likely be significantly offended to come in second place in anything. Considering Mr. Joshua’s behemoth package is often not quite entirely contained in his trunks, he’s a hairsbreadth away from jumping divisions. After aching for this to happen for years now, I’m finally conceding that Mr. Joshua is likely never to join the pornboy ranks. Still, he deserves major credit for his extremely entertaining performances and the hours upon hours of enjoyment he’s given me. Lon is a relative rookie on the homoerotic scene in comparison to Mr. Joshua. Mr. Joshua certainly outweighs the lightweight bodybuilder significantly. Mr. Joshua has earned his chops in victory after defeat after victory, whereas Lon remains a bit untested against the established headliners. All that suggests to me that Lon has one hungry, indignant, cocky hardbody on his tail (and that’s an image that lingers in my imagination).
As I’ve said, the more homoerotic wrestling in the world, the better. Both Lon and Mr. Joshua are BG East exclusives, as far as I know, but I’m happily scouring plenty of other wrestling operations for new challengers to toss their hats in the ring. There are plenty of deserving candidates. But for today, for now, let me place the crown of my favorite homoerotic wrestler, non-pornboy division, on the fantastically shaved head of Lon Dumont. And let me give a virtual slap on the ass to runner-up Mr. Joshua. I’m looking forward to seeing them both in plenty more matches to come, performing their hearts out even if keeping their trunks on.

Grab a Mop

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I just double-checked my calendar. It isn’t my birthday. I’ve never heard of exchanging gifts for the 4th of July. But for whatever reason, Kid Leopard and the boys at BG East have delivered up one of the best presents I’ve ever received.
When I opened up the BG East webpage, I was so thrilled to see my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy staring back at me. Rusty Stevens is looking shredded and sexy as hell in his gray jockstrap. This is Rusty’s first appearance with BGE (I’m begging for many more!), and I must say that this is just two great tastes that taste great together. Rusty’s superb skills in grappling and homoerotic domination are a perfect match with the wrestling chops demanded of the headliner talent at BGE. I know it’s Rusty’s debut with the company, but I just have to say that it feels like he’s merely coming home again.
When I followed the link to Rusty’s inaugural BGE match, I discovered that he’s in a sweaty mat match-up with my #1 contender to be my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, the former champ himself, Mitch Colby. Two things happened in quick succession. I picked my jaw up off the floor, wiping away the copious amounts of saliva that immediately began pouring from the corners of my mouth. And then, I kid you not, I heard the Hallelujah Chorus playing in the back of my head. Seriously, this was nearly a religious experience for me.
I’m dead serious. I feel like I owe Kid Leopard my first born child for his managing to pluck this scenario from my most coveted wrestling fantasies and make it come to life. Since I’ve already promised my first born child several times over, I’ll have to find someone else’s first born child for KL. Or absolutely anything else he wants from me. When I scanned the teaser pics ripped straight from my imagination of exactly what this match would look like, I had to wipe tears of joy from my cheeks. I was instantly fully aroused and breathless. Then when I read the description of the match, I was astonished to find a pretty overt reference to this very blog! The exchange of positions between Mitch and Rusty in the rankings for being my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy is noted right there as evidence of the inevitability of pitting these two class acts against one another. At that point, my head swelled up nearly as big as my cock. My friends have been getting sick of hearing me talk about this brush with fame. “Did I mention that I was referenced in the latest BG East catalogue?”
I’m desperately, achingly waiting for two things at this point. 1) I’m waiting for the DVD to arrive in the mail. I’m feeling a little bitter that the holiday weekend is upon us, likely slowing the delivery of my purchase. I hate waiting, generally speaking. I’m physically hurting to have to wait in this particular instance. 2) I’m also waiting for some more stills from the match in the Arena. I’m already sporting a 24-hour hard on at the thought of this battle. Once I see these two men of my homoerotic wrestling kink fantasies from every angle, I’ll likely explode into a million pieces.
You’ll know what’s happened if the photos appear in the Arena and I suddenly stop blogging. Just go ahead and send a cleaning crew here to mop up my remains.

Too Much of a Fantastic Thing

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I’m in major holiday-weekend barbecue zone right now. I’m not sure that I’ll even be able to manage to maintain my once a day posting. I’ll do my best for those of you who need a break from the beers, backyards, and poppies this Memorial Day weekend.

My brief posting for today is mostly just an opportunity to drool over my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Rusty Stevens. Some of you may have noted that yesterday’s post won’t allow comments. That’s because the persistent, vile phisher who keeps trying to post malware links in comments to this blog is at it again. When I went to delete the comment, I mistakenly hit “publish.” Now I don’t know how to delete a published comment. Rather than risk someone stumbling across it, I just closed down comments entirely for that post and hid what was mistakenly posted.
In case you’re dying to get in your 2 cents on the wonders that are Rusty Stevens, I thought I’d just post a few more tantalizing images and leave the comments open. I also wanted to pass along this bizarrely fantastic story (at least from my point of view) that Rusty had to be rushed to the hospital with priapism from the set of a production he was starring in outside of Miami earlier this year. I’m desperate to hear that this whole thing happened when he and Mitch Colby met on the mats in Florida, and Rusty found himself so aroused by his #1 contender that his erection raged on with a mind of its own.
Hell, that fictional backstory alone earns Mitch some momentum in dethroning Rusty. Rusty better watch his back, and apparently he might want to lay off the viagra next time he’s finding himself scissored between Mitch’s powerful thighs.

Making Me a Believer

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Joe at Ringside at Skull Island recently noted that, if stuck on a desert island, he would simply have to have WiFi access to Naked Kombat in order to survive. Specifically, he calls out Rusty Steven’s oil match with Tommy Defendi as foundational to the wrestling kink ordered universe (okay, I’m taking major license with Joe’s eloquent words… read them for yourself for the real deal). In any case, although I’ve written about this match before, Joe’s musings sent me back to appreciate it all over again (thanks, Joe!).

Rusty is continuing to sit pretty atop the standings as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, just like he sits pretty atop Tommy’s face throughout much of their match. I think the image of Rusty’s gorgeous ass planted on Tommy’s face as Rusty tortures the kid’s cock and balls surely must be evidence of the existence of intelligent design. The alignment of so many perfect elements simply couldn’t have happened by chance: Rusty’s fantastic ass, Tommy’s handsomely bearded face, the oil, the cock torture, the tattoos, all caught on tape… This was simply meant to be.
Rusty’s performance should be referenced in the definition of the term “to manhandle.” He is one massive bundle of muscle and sheer will, tossing Tommy around like a sack of potatoes (a very, very hot sack of potatoes). When Rusty is pressing out of a tight spot, that fantastic guttural roar emerging from deep in his chest, I swear that sound all by itself can make me pre-cum.
No one, but NO ONE rides his beaten man like a pony quite like Rusty. The humiliation and complete ownership make me light-headed. The “rules” of NK leave it up to the victor to do what he will with the loser. Rusty, being the deserving champion he is, exercises such exquisite homoerotic domination, literally riding his man like a domesticated pack animal. Tommy, like all of Rusty’s conquests on NK, clearly resent his humiliated state. He performs reluctantly, allowing this god of a man to ridicule him because this is what he signed up for. The glimpse that this “sex round” offers into Rusty’s kinky mind is absolutely priceless. What would you do with a handsome muscle stud at your complete mercy for any sexual gratification you can imagine, Rusty? Why, Bard, I’ll ride him like a pony, verbally beat him into humiliated submission just as I beat him into physical submission, and work his body from every angle possible to the end that I (and you) reach the height of ecstatic climax. Awesome, Rusty. You are, indeed, the man.
The last bit of this match-up leaves me stunned. How could it get even more wrestling-kinktastic? Well, Bard, watch me scissor the kid’s neck between my legs as we both stroke ourselves to a gasping explosion as I toy with Tommy’s airway. Holy. Hell. Thank you, whatever divinity brought together these over-the-top perfect elements to create such an exquisite moment of wrestling kink mastery. I am a believer.

Birthday Suits

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Neverland is a year old! The anniversary of when I started this extended wrestling kink conversation sort of snuck up on me. At times, this past year has been challenging, particularly at the point that I committed to post something new each day. But all in all, this has been a lot of fun, and it’s been very rewarding making a lot of enjoyable connections with plenty of other kinksters across the globe.
As regular readers realize, I’m actually pretty demure. I tend to shy away from full frontal nudity on this blog. It’s not that I’m trying to spare those of you who are searching for your wrestling kink hit at work. Personally, I think you get what you deserve when you browse for porn at work (such as inopportune erections, pre-cum stains on your suit pants, etc.). But in keeping with the whole theme of promoting the homoerotic imagination, I tend to like to leave a little to the imagination with the graphics that accompany my ramblings. But in honor of the auspicious occasion of the 1 year anniversary of neverland, I’m treating myself (and you) to some of my favorite boys celebrating in their birthday suits.
At the head of the line has to be my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Rusty Stevens. Rusty has “only” appeared 9 times over the past 12 months in this blog, but his snarling, humiliatingly domineering possession of the title as reigning champion is sure to boost his numbers quickly. Rusty tugging at his own handsome cock is fantastically hot. Rusty’s naked body gets credit for quite a lot of my homoerotic fantasies as of late, particularly since his capture of the championship in my own little imaginary competition.
Next in line, appropriately enough, is the top contender to unseat Rusty, Mitch Colby. Since Mitch had a commanding headlock on the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy for most of the past 12 months, it’s no wonder he appeared, by far, the most often in this blog (a total of 30 of my posts include Mitch!). Mitch’s entry into full on nude, hard action over the past couple of years has been an incredible treat. I’m seriously jonesin’ to see him back on the mats/in the ring, putting that stunningly gorgeous body on the line in muscle-on-muscle competition. And ANY match that ends in a passionate, soapy shower scene with Mitch and his opponent is guaranteed to be in my library (I promise!).
Derek da Silva and his gorgeous, round muscle butt have to make an appearance in the parade of birthday suit homoerotic wrestling pornboys, as I celebrate the anniversary of this blog. Derek has shown up in no fewer than 14 different posts over the past year. Derek looks ready to put that stunning body to good use, clawing his way back up the rankings.
The naked form of Tyrell Tomsen is the stuff of classical sculpture. Tyrell’s growing body of appearances in the BGE roster, extremely proudly displaying his incredible muscles, has definitely been a source of joy for me this past year, ending him up in 8 posts in neverland. His striated muscle butt and his massive, yet beautifully proportioned cock make Tyrell paydirt from any angle. This simply can’t just be considered “porn.” This is art on par with the masters of absolutely any medium.
My final favorite wrestler in his birthday suit is the underrated Rafe Sanchez. Rafe has only shown up in 3 posts over the past 12 months, which is a little misleading, considering he stars regularly in my personal erotic fantasies. Rafe is certainly not as massively constructed as, say, Tyrell, but Rafe absolutely loves every inch of his body not one iota less (which is saying a lot, if you’ve seen how much Tyrell appropriately worships his own muscles). When Rafe is rode hard and put away wet before losing his gear, he leaves me breathless. When he’s irrepressibly erect, his passionate pleasure for his work (and himself) makes me ache just a little to join in the fun with him.

I still get messages every so often from homoerotic wrestling kinksters who are just discovering, “I’m not the only one!” Good God, no! You aren’t. And fortunately there are enough of us to comprise a market for accomplished artists like these to be financially rewarded for the incredible, hard work that clearly goes into crafting every inch of their beautiful bodies and then displaying those precious treasures in body-on-body erotic competition. Not only is there a market, but there are also plenty of us with the time on our hands to ramble on, reflect, deconstruct and reconstruct the wrestling kink fantasies that turn us on and inspire a growing body of blogs. By no means are you the only one. By no stretch of the imagination are any of us alone. Thanks for your support, everyone!

Re-Subscribing

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I subscribed to Naked Kombat when they had just a handful of matches up. It was definitely entertaining, but the limited library left me feeling like my porn budget might be better spent elsewhere. Now that Rusty Stevens is riding high as my champion favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, I decided to re-up with NK to take a look at Rusty’s body…. of work there.

Their library is a lot deeper these days, and so I’m endlessly entertained with touring through the pages of matches. Rusty appears in four NK matches. His most recent appears to be from last November 18, in which Rusty destroys Tommy Defendi in body, mind and spirit.
Rusty spends a whole lot of this match sitting on Tommy’s face and chest, and I don’t get tired of it from start to finish. Rusty plays Tommy’s body like a church organist, using his hands and feet to pump, stroke and pound every vulnerable inch. The final “sex” round works for me in a way that surprises me just a little. It’s over the top. It sticks to the script. But it really, really works for me. Rusty riding Tommy on all fours like a horse is captivating. But the moment that Rusty rips off his condom and wraps his sweat soaked legs around Tommy’s neck while both of them stroke themselves to the point of exhaustion (Rusty barking instructions the entire time)… that moment is sweet, sweet wrestling kink.

Long Live the King

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The title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy has changed hands exactly three times in the past 6 months (call me fickle). First, Mitch Colby lost the title to Derek da Silva. Then in a fierce fought battle, Mitch snatched the title back out of the stunned hands of Derek. Then out of nowhere, Rusty Stevens made a play, overtaking Derek as the top contender, and in short order turned and spanked Mitch’s ass, kicking him to the curb.

I’ve spilled relatively little ink on my reigning champion, so I thought I’d linger a little longer today on marveling at the wonders that are Rusty Stevens. He’s a 6’1″ mass of a man. His body is powerful, aesthetically gorgeous, and deliciously proportioned. He suffers sweetly, and when his opponent’s are on their game, Rusty’s suffering body is jaw dropping to behold. The lip-marks tattooed around his crotch and ass suggest a nice sense of humor, and perhaps Rusty doesn’t take himself too seriously in real life.
But on the mats, Rusty is fierce, fully committed to the moment, and wields his razor sharp wit as ruthlessly as he tortures his opponents’ bodies. Rusty systematically demoralizes his opponents, humiliating them both in word and action. He slaps and claws at cocks and balls. He spanks and squeezes and grinds his opponents from all angles. He’s a big boy who generally outmuscles most of the men I’ve seen him go up against. And he grunts. I absolutely love Rusty’s gutteral, neanderthal grunting. The grunts signal when Rusty is setting aside the razor-wire banter and moving on to head-on physical intimidation. He sounds like he’s tapping into something deep and animal inside of him, and his opponents invariably take notice that they’re dealing with something savagely primal.
Frankly, Rusty isn’t as pretty as Mitch. Between you and me, I find Mitch’s body a shade hotter than the champion. When it comes right down to it, Mitch has the edge when it comes to rounding out the story of domination, where Mitch commands, humiliates, and owns his man, and having decisively proven who’s on top, he can afford to be tender and paternal with his new plaything. But Rusty remains on top of the dais due to his unbeatable mental domination of his opponents. He’s a master chessman on the mats, and his mental quickness and unflinching commitment make him my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy. Long live the king.

Crowning a New Champion

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Rusty Stevens capped off his meteoric rise in my wrestling fantasy rankings with the final segment of his battle with Aryx Quinn in Can-Am’s Arena 2. The plot of the match is described explicitly enough on the website, so I don’t think I’m giving too much away. Aryx finishes off Rusty with his “Kiss of Death,” knocking out the bigger man cold. He wakes Rusty up with his erect cock sliding between Rusty’s magnificent ass cheeks, and proceeds to force feed him orally and then plow him from behind.

No offense meant to Aryx, but he’s furniture to me as I watch this. My eyes are for Rusty alone. He’s simply gorgeous, with a body I just want to reach out and grab from every angle. The scene fades to Aryx on his back with Rusty sitting on his cock and power bottoming, facing Aryx’ feet. Rusty is fierce even with his opponent’s cock up his ass. The magic happens, though, when he skillfully spins around on Aryx’ cock to face his head. Still planted on top of him, Rusty leans forward, kisses Aryx’ neck, and then slaps on the same “Kiss of Death,” knocking Aryx out cold.
Rusty drives home the point that he didn’t take kindly to Aryx’ beginning the screw him while he was still unconscious by returning the favor. Rusty’s stunning ass is hypnotic as he pumps his helpless opponent into submission. Somehow, they finish everything off with respectful, mutual appreciation, eagerly suggesting that they’re both ready to face off and do it all over again.

It was the moment that Rusty spun around on his opponent’s cock in order to take charge from “the bottom,”… that’s the precise moment when Rusty ripped the crown from Mitch Colby’s head and claimed the title as my new favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy. Rusty’s fierceness in transforming his humiliating defeat into a final reversal, all the while owning Aryx even with Aryx’ cock up his ass, earns him the undisputed title.
Mitch’s MySpace page recently suggested that he was hitting the gym for his next wrestling match. So while Mitch is now the #1 contender (step aside, Derek), I’m hoping that the competition will be heating up soon. Mitch managed a pretty rapid reversal of fortunes when Derek da Silva spanked his ass and claimed the crown for a couple of months last Autumn. I’m eager to see if Mitch kicks it into overdrive in order to kick Rusty’s ass to the curb, and back into second place.
The king is dead. Long live the king.

Stunning Salesmanship

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I’ve decided that I’m not particularly a fan of the serial wrestling match. Can-Am dribbles out 6 minute segments of some of their upcoming releases, sometimes leaving me frustrated a week or so at a time between clips. When it’s a match featuring the rising stock of 6’1″ beast, Rusty Stevens, the delayed gratification can seem cruel.
Speaking of cruel, though, I’m transfixed by the second movement in this symphony of pain, when Rusty recovers from some initial suffering to put his foot on the gas pedal and treat 5’9″ Aryx Quinn like a defenseless rag doll. Rusty is selling fierce better and better in each match I see him. He’s using the extra pounds of muscle mass he’s been packing on to string together absolutely relentless and impressive power moves, punctuated by some feral growling and snarling. He crushes Aryx in bearhugs that go on for days, keeping the smaller man off his feet convincingly. Rusty slams him repeatedly, spitting out his humiliating banter that assures Aryx that his ass is destined to be owned. But it’s Rusty and Aryx’ selling of repeated over-the-knee backbreakers that truly transports me.

I have always been in awe of the repeated OTK backbreaker, as one man drives his opponent’s back across his thigh, tortures him there for a while, then scoops him up again to start the cycle of devastation over and over again. The size differential between these two boys comes in handy, here, I’m certain. Rusty looks like he’s beating up on some cocky adolescent here, bending Aryx backward with convincing brutality. Rusty’s massive chest is flexed and stunning, and as he throws his battered boy to the ground, his taunting is savage and completely demoralizing.
I have to say, Rusty is mounting a stunning run in my imagination to overcome Mitch Colby as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy. Depending on how Rusty polishes off Aryx, I think this could spell an upset in the rankings. As Mitch doesn’t have a current release out, he’s left watching this drama unfold, his fate entirely in Rusty’s hands (just like Aryx’ ass).
For those who still want to exercise their right to vote in choosing the boys who will do battle to join the secretarial pool in the fictional wrestling-obsessed world of the Producer’s Ring, I’ll be keeping voting (top margin to the right of this page) open for another day. So far, Nick Auger, Jared Prudoff, Kerry Degman, Rafael Verga, and Sean Sullivan appear to be poised to claim their spots in the upcoming elimination tournament. The remaining two spots look like they’re up for grabs.