In BG East's Raunchy Rookies 7, Kayden Keller goes in search of Ty Alexander's elusive tan line and can't find it anywhere. The guy must sleep in a tanning bed, so honey-colored perfect is his complexion, toe to pate, including all the tempting bumps and dips along the way. And his smooth skin tone sets off the shock of pink of his soon-to-be-confiscated trunks. The results are thrilling, and the view gets even better the more Kayden wears the roseate challenger's body down, claiming it as private property.
The gear these guys wear seems so heavily encoded with signifiers of masculinity that it's impossible not to try to interpret them. Perhaps nobody in the 21st century has diced and spliced the semiotics of wrestling more thoroughly than Wrestling Arsenal, who wrote a year ago:
Certainly the thrill of role-reversal and sissification plays into our excitement over seeing a man in pink. A tough Manly Man emasculating himself by wearing a feminine color (on his crotch area) signifies a loss of strength and power, a castration, a willingness to submit and be dominated like a bitch.
Elsewhere he coins the term "masculine sissy," by which he means a "subtle nod to femininity by many Real Man wrestlers," who use their outsider status as pro wrestlers to flout the conventions of masculinity while, in many other ways, playing them up to exaggerated heights. But usually, he argues, pink means exactly what we think it means: "Flamboyant, brightly colored tights are worn by flashy show-offs. No-nonsense basic tights are worn by talented, hard-hitting bad ass wrestlers. White or pink tights are worn by submissive sissy-boys while black is reserved for punishing brawlers."
Kayden is definitely the hard-hitter, a role reinforced by his beard, leather armbands, and his sneering though softly spoken putdown ("I'm not impressed") as he climbs into the ring with Ty. Ty pushes himself up to Kayden, eyeball to eyeball, nose to nose, crotch to crotch, a silent but effective provocation and tease. Kayden brushes him aside. Then they lock up, collar and elbow, and Kayden backs his man into the corner, his left hand shoving Ty's face back to the ring post, simultaneously causing Ty's groin to arch up and press firmly against his. Backing off a step, he grabs the pink crotch and wipes Ty's mouth with a bitch-slap. Ty's response is unexpectedly aggressive, as Bard at neverland notes in his February review of this match:
Then out of the blue, Ty Alexander opens up a can of whoop ass! I mean, seriously, where was he hiding that can, because it comes out of nowhere! He clotheslines the ominously bearded badboy and then proceeds to scoop slam the lean stud repeatedly. With authority. Total confidence. Blows me away! Ty isn't an ounce less pretty, tanned or pink clad, but there's a practiced focus and intentionality about his opening flurry of offense that makes me think I'm looking at this kid for the first time all of the sudden!Kayden may or may not eventually dominate Ty like a bitch, but for his part Ty is going to make Kayden fight for the privilege. Kayden's getting nothing out of Ty for free. The unimpressed man in black had better put out, or else he'll be going to bed tonight with no dessert. Ty may look like a pink-frosted cupcake, but he fights like a bobcat. The shock gets me excited. The sight of those smooth, tan legs stomping down on Kayden's ribcage makes my balls go squeeeee. When Ty fastens Kayden to the canvas with a cross armbar, pressing the man's wrist against his nut-brown torso, I figure Keller must be feeling just a little bit impressed right now.
If nothing else, Ty's feisty attention-getter forces Kayden to man up. As soon as Ty clutches his balls (and twists!), Kayden gathers up the moxie to power out of the armbar and greet the now overconfident pinko with a sharp knee to the ribs. Order is restored as butch tops sissy, forcing pretty boy to tap out under the stress of a combination single-leg crab and fresh-squeezed nards*.
Having been blindsided once, Kayden doesn't wait for Ty to catch his second wind before starting in on him in Round 2. He repeats his opening attack move for move, this time avoiding the mistake of waiting too long before bodyslamming his opponent to the center of the ring and then straddling his face, letting a now apparently docile Ty lick the salt off his sweaty crotch. Bitch gets a little spanking before Kayden finally decides to go all smooth and Vandross-y with fingertips all over Ty's sexy body, sealing the deal with a sticky kiss. What happens next is, of course, the raunchy payoff. the two of them as they enjoy all their naturally pink parts without a hint of aggression. But I am prevented by the microchip BG East implanted in my brain from showing you the explicit nude shots from this match (available for cheap, however, on The Arena @BGEast).
It's hot all right, hotter still because Kayden and Ty put up such a tough fight before reaching this point. Ty, in particular, is a revelation, pulling off both sides of the butch-fem dichotomy with equal aplomb. Sizzling.
* This is exactly what I was talking about the other day, when I confessed my love of matches where a macho beast torments the fuck out of a girly-man. For me, this scenario plays out like a psychodrama of my sexual identity. Even now, after all these years of being out and proud, I want my masculine side to rise up, challenge, and demolish my show-offy effeminate side. This attitude is nowhere close to politically correct, but I'd swear on a stack of Blueboys that (consciously, at least) I'm not the least bit ashamed of being gay and egghead nerdy. But admittedly, like many gay men my age, I feel an instantly regretted relief when folks tell me they could not tell I was gay until after I had told them (or had grabbed them by their hogs), even though I honestly don't give a solitary fuck whether people can "tell" about me or not.