Saturday, April 30, 2016

The Penetration Step

Doug Acre vs Landon Conrad, Summer Smackdown Tournament First Semi-Final Match (Naked Kombat)

Is the penetration step a thing? It is. Look it up on YouTube, kids. One trainer even says it should end in an explosion. Even with terms like "penetration step," most people fail to see the eroticism of wrestling. So I'm the weirdo for thinking it's about sex, but, dudes, I'm not making up these names.

Responding to a post at the beginning of April,  Eli Jav asked whether I knew this Naked Kombat match from the fall of 2013. I thought for sure I had seen it, and maybe I had but forgot about it. My memory recently refreshed, I think I would have remembered.

I believed I had seen it because I like Doug Acre and couldn't think of a reason I would have missed a match of his. Doug reminds me of a couple of other wrestlers I like, small but tough, with a rawboned face that always looks on guard. I'm somewhat less familiar with Landon Conrad, whose name, I take it, is a mashup of the surnames of two popular TV studs from the 1960s.

In the prologue Doug boasts, "When I win, this muscle-head is going to worship my cock, and I'm gonna fuck him all night long." Behind him, Landon smiles (blissfully, I thought), and when it's his turn to speak, he counters, "When I win, I'm gonna bend this little bitch over, fuck him, and eat that ass."

Why have I never met the guy I could write these sentiments to on a Valentine?

They wrestle four "rounds": trunks, jockstraps, nude, and the victor's prize, the sex round. It's good wrestling, too, mostly on Acre's part, but Conrad's too. Each round is a compromise between wrestling and molesting, which is why the Greeks loved it and made it the first non-footrace event of the ancient Olympic Games. Conrad has the body I lust for, but watching Acre wrestle makes me want him too. At the end of the third round, the ref tells the winner, "His ass is all yours"; that's penetration!

Friday, April 29, 2016

Duke Russo Takes Care of Business

Case "CT" Thornton vs Duke Russo, Movimus Wrestling

I'm not keen on big-vs-little matches, but I think viewers who are will enjoy this contest. It isn't a big-vs-little match, but it feels like one. Only ten pounds separate Duke and CT, and only two inches in height. But the wrestlers' proportions are strikingly different. This is a rematch, too, which means so both wrestlers know what they're getting into. CT has the speed and agility that his slim limbs afford him. Duke has the muscle and the hairy balls that made him such a challenge for CT the first go-around in 2015.

In this match, CT has a reputation to protect. Duke is still building one, fight by fight, fan by fan. The video runs 30 minutes, and we see two falls by submission. I won't lie to you: CT looks like he bit off more than he can chew in Duke. Just check out the screen grabs above. Though Russo knows better than to write Thornton off as easy-pickings, he lacks nothing in confidence in facing him on the mat a second time.

I'd love to see Duke pitted next against somebody bigger than he is. My wish list has Tito Marones and Dario Espinosa at the top; Silas Sanchez or Ray Mousi would be great too. Together these guys would make some noise!

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Side Headlock: How It's Done

Anthony Gangone vs David Starr, Stage 1: New Game (Next Level Wrestling)

I am not an obsessive person. I lose interest easily. I can be fickle. But when I want to, I can focus, tightly, for a good length of time. The November 2015 match linked above lasts 21 minutes and 28 seconds. It's a great match from start to finish, but there are 56 seconds in the middle that mesmerize me. I love side headlocks, and the chinlock Starr (5'11", 211#) holds on Gangone (5'9", 189#) for almost a minute may be the best one ever; it's in the top ten, at least.

What's so right about it?

One. The camera angle. Long shot to full shot, pulling us in. Not exactly crotch level but close enough.

Two. The gamut of emotions playing across Starr's face.

Three. The way Starr settles into it, like it's a hot tub.

Four. Sweat.

Five. Gangone's stillness through most of it, like a contemplative sage lying on a bed of nails, but the sense that somehow through the pain his brain is ticking like a clock.

Six. The way Starr, dick that he is, arches his body, putting Ganone's neck at a perilous angle, upping the pressure.

Seven. Though you don't know it at the time, the way this hold--at the match's midpoint--subtly foreshadows the jaw-cracking finisher.

Eight. The beauty of Starr's undulating body.

Nine. There's no hurry to move on to the next spot. The patience of it, trusting the crowd to bear with a minute of  the near immobility of both performers, choosing intensity over energy.

Ten. The escape. Worth the wait.

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

"Bring It On"? "Bring It On"? You Stupid Little Fuck!

It looks like it's BGE Week at Ringside at Skull Island and neverland. I copped some photos of the just-released Demolition 19 from The Arena@BGEAST, and since I'm presently buried under a ton of freshmen research essays the week before finals, I am taking the lazy way out and quote word for word from the product descriptions in the online catalog. Anyway, I couldn't put it any better myself.

Chace LaChance vs Jayden Mayne, Demolition 19 (BG East)
Ever fantasize about having a personal trainer as fit and sexy as Chace LaChance? It may not be all you would like it to be. For one thing, only one person gets Chace's undivided, expert attention, and that person is Chace, 24/7/365. You step into this guy's shadow at the gym and he shoots you the evil eye. You use a piece of equipment he wants to use, and he treats you like dirt. Our pal Jayden Mayne had a bad run-in with this dude a few weeks back. Here Jayden was doing his regular routine, minding his business, and up walks Chace, pecs and abs rolling like an approaching thunderhead.

Jayden didn't do a thing, and all of a sudden this muscled lug starts disrespecting the kid's physique, which is not half bad, in our opinion. Chace acts like the BG East workout room is his personal and exclusive gym or something! He even says so, looming over Jayden, trying to intimidate the guy. Jayden plays it all cool and stuff, but Chace won't stop riding his butt, telling Mayne he ought to be using the girls' equipment instead. So Jayden just stands there, staring at LaChance as the big guy buffs his muscles all nice and pretty.

Chace orders him to back off. Jayden says, "Let's take this shit upstairs," or roughly words to that effect, meaning up to the wrestling ring over the workout room. "I'm gonna destroy that little kid," Chace mutters, taking a few last-minute tugs at the lats machine before following Jayden to the wrestling ring. Jayden cannot wait to mix it up with this douche-bag. He sucker-punches Chace in the midsection, and Mister Beautiful folds up like an aluminum beach chair. Jayden follows up with some blows to the back, and Chace is groaning and wobbling back and forth like a man twice his age.

Once back up on his feet and steady, Chace takes charge, though, sneaking up on Jayden from behind and cranking up a full nelson. That's a serious hold, if you didn't already know that, but then he just tosses the kid to the mat like it's not even worth his time to wrestle him. "I feel much better when I look at myself than when I look at you," he crows, popping his biceps in front of the mirror again. He offers Jayden a free shot at putting the full-nelson hold on him this time. Jayden clamps in tight, and Chace puts up a bigger struggle than he probably expected to, but he escapes and reverses.

He gives Mayne a good roughing up: clutches, yanking him up by his short haircut, over-the-knee back-busters, till Jayden finally gives, not once, not twice, but, at Chace's insistence, three times. The big guy follows up with a 90-second full nelson, clearly bent on demolishing the kid's back and shoulders. Body scissors follow, as do arm bars, illegal use of the ropes, crab holds, and bear hugs. It's almost impossible to not get an erection under these circumstances. We feel bad for Jayden, but, damn! this stuff is h-o-t!

Lon Dumont vs Nicholas Rush, Demolition 19 (BG East)
Lon Dumont rubs some people the wrong way. We get it. Really, we do. Even Nicholas Rush, who paired with Lon in Tag Team Torture 15, can't get along with the guy. Nicholas did nothing but try to please Lon, putting up with the man's narcissistic mood swings, doing everything in his power to impress and please the prickly bad-ass. Recently, he purchased new ring attire, thinking Lon would be impressed. It's a satiny black entrance robe lined with what appears to be the hide of a purple bathroom rug. Ugly as fuck. It looks like the gear that trampoline wrestlers threw together for themselves in the 1990s.

But Lon can't just bite his tongue and tell the guy he looks fantastic in it, like a real partner would. Instead, he says stuff like "I hate to be the one to break this to you, but it ain't Halloween." Then he informs Nicholas he is "not up to snuff " as a tag-team partner, despite the duo's good showing against Jake Jenkins and Austin Cooper. Truth be told, Lon never did think Nicholas was good enough to be his wingman. Most guys would just stop returning phone calls, but leave it to Lon to insist on proving his point by importuning The Boss for a special singles contest to beat the shit out of his soon-to-be ex-partner.

He pretends he's giving Nicholas one last chance to prove himself as a wrestler, but it's a breakup match, gangland execution style. Like most of Lon's matches it starts out with the pretense of being clean. The two clasp hands and butt chests in a grunting test of strength. Tall and lanky Nicholas packs more power than anybody expected, and Lon nearly hemorrhages trying to shove him back to the corner ropes. A second time. Similar results.

Then all of a sudden Nicholas is pressing Lon down to one knee. Lon resorts to yanking the guy down to the mat by his hair, a cheap trick that the talky heel shrugs off as strategic "thinking." But when Nicholas naively copycats Lon's strategy, all hell breaks loose.

A series of punches, clotheslines, and slams are designed to punish Nicholas for making Lon look bad ... on camera, no less. In his rage, Lon wants to eliminate the rookie not just as a tag partner but from BG East entirely. We see Lon at his villainous best here, truly savoring the small offensives that put Nicholas through hell, such as using his wristband to sandpaper his opponent's already bruised and battered ribs. Attention to detail has always been a Dumont hallmark and "Ol' Lonnie D" revels in dastardly detail here.

The thing is, as brutal as Lon is, Nicholas takes everything Lon dishes up and keeps coming back, seemingly stronger than before. Two-thirds of the way through the match, Nicholas turns it all around. He becomes the hunter and Lon the prey, trapping the bigmouth bad-boy against the turnbuckle and walloping him good and hard. It is an a-maz-ing turnaround, and of course nobody's more shocked - or more indignant - than our Lon Dumont.

But there are bonafide turnabouts, and then there are hope spots, soon squashed by a capable heel if luck is on his side. But is luck on Dumont's side? Or on young Nicholas Rush's side? Either way, the finisher, a face-to-face and chest-to-chest choke-out, will leave you with plenty to think about and contemplate after the match is over.

Guido Genatto vs Ty Alexander, Demolition 19 (BG East)
Whom exactly did Ty Alexander piss off so badly that he wound up in the squared circle face to face with "Dirty Daddy" Guido Genatto? I mean, really. Did he shoot somebody's dog? Did he steal somebody's boyfriend? Did he sell defense secrets to an enemy state? Did he badly cross The Boss? I mean, just the sight of Ty's smooth, boylike physique in valentine pink trunks facing off against big, nasty, and dangerous Guido is like seeing a squirrel in a pit match against a goddamn grizzly. Ty puts on his best fight face for the confrontation, but a good fight face will not cut it against muscle and volatility like Genatto's.
"Bring it on, man," Ty says, adorably unconvincing as his burly opponent approaches the ring. "'Bring it on, man'?" Guido repeats. "Did you just call me 'man'?" He chuckles dismissively and climbs through the ropes. "What did you call me? You call me 'man'?" Ty doesn't back off but dares to get right in his face, saying, "Yeah, I said 'Bring it on.'"
Posthaste Guido lands a fist the size of a bowling ball on Ty's perfect jawline. "'Bring it on'? 'Bring it on'? You stupid little fuck!" Ty feels himself being tossed to the center of the ring, his arm wedged between two massive hairy thighs and locked against Guido's bulging crotch. A second later, Guido's boot is smashing the kid's one free hand.
"I'm gonna give you a good fuckin' look at your absolute total fuckin' destruction!" Past history tells us that this is no exaggeration. If BG East didn't already have a Demolition series, Guido Genatto's arrival at the company over two years ago would have made its invention necessary. Guido has chewed up pretty boys like Kip Sorell, Jake Jenkins, and Kirk Donahue and spit them out. Muscle brutes like Flash LaCash and Dolph Danner have fared only marginally better. Nobody exudes menace, testosterone, or domination like Guido.
Ty is best known as the current king of liplocks in BGE's eroto-wrestling videos. To his credit, he doesn't seem as out of place in this ring as we might have expected. He's ring savvy. He suffers beautifully (and tirelessly) under Guido's merciless abuses.
Ty has been caught in the grip of other big brutes, most recently veteran Shane McCall and new big boy Beauxregard. His expressive face registers even slight variations in the degrees of his suffering. He is a perfect victim, and an appreciative one. Only the hard bulge pressing front and center in his pink trunks betrays his secret enjoyment of his torments.
Like the best bullies, Guido is a master of the small gestures and taunts that add sensuality to his savage acts. The positioning of Ty's head at his crotch early on in the match, for instance, is greeted by a slight upward thrust of the hips. "Oh yeah, you like those red trunks, huh?" Guido vulgarly barks out. Looking down at his own bulge he adds, "My fuckin' hot sausage looks good in these red trunks." He's fully aware of the game he's playing, like a true master of his craft: "I hope it feels as good for you as it does for me."
Next he chicken-wings Ty's arm, with the added touch of holding it with one arm while the other arm roughly shoves the victim's face in the opposite direction. Later, trapping Ty in a lotus lock, Guido casually props himself up on his elbows, looking down at the twitching body with an expression of grim satisfaction, baring his teeth for an added touch of intimidation. Surfboard locks, pendulum backbreakers, STFs, chinlocks, chokes, and ball-twisting, Guido has a full arsenal of hurts as he plays Ty like bagpipes and puts that sexy lean jobber bod on full display for our total delectation. Oh and, yeah, those red trunks are well worth remembering, too. A sexy and controversial match with glorious contrasts!

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Two Out of Three Ain't Bad

Fabrice vs Payton Meadows, Undagear 25 (BG East)

If you showed me this match without providing any other information, I wouldn't be able to guess it's from BG East. It has its good points, which I would prefer to accentuate, being the positive and supportive blogger I am, but technically it falls short of the work BGE was producing even 20 years ago. Payton Meadows has a killer body, though he says stuff like, "Oh my stomach! I'm dying!"  killing some of the effect of a good gut-punching. A torso like this speaks for itself.  Though inadequate, the single-source lighting does deepen the muscle definition, and there is a twist to hold our attention, namely that the smaller guy, Fabrice, is stronger and more commanding than he looks. For all that, the match is pretty lame--two attractive combatants, but zero plausibility in the wrestling or the story. I know for a fact that Fabrice, given the room, is capable of more bang than he delivers here. My hope is that we'll see these guys, newcomers both of them, breathe more fire in future bouts.


Jake Jenkins vs Attila Dynasty, Undagear 25 (BG East)

Jake has been one of the company's most dependable wrestlers over the last (almost) five years. On the mat especially, he knows what he's doing and he looks good doing it. His performances routinely exhibit an understated wit and a level of competitive intensity at odds with his laid-back attitude. Attila's impatience to get it on with this guy is entirely understandable. Jake wants to show off his muscles, and Attila wants to kick some Jenkins butt. They are physically well matched, and this fight has needed to happen for a while now. Attila exhibits more spark and spunk than I ever figured him for, and his sneak attack on Jake gets him a satisfying and credible submission ... and a whole lot of trouble once Jake gets fired up. When Jake gets the second fall, Attila accuses him of cheating, further notching up the heat between these two. For me, Attila is a revelation. He comes to his own right here, and he's a force to reckon with. He and Jake play off each other beautifully. The banter between them is fresh and spontaneous. The chemistry is natural, and by the match's midpoint I don't know which one of them I'd rather pounce on. Tensions build slowly and believably to the choke-out finish, which ought to add a few pounds to any sensible viewer's dick.

Drake Marcos vs Ethan Axel Andrews, Undagear 25 (BG East)

I'm happy to see these guys butting heads. So physically similar they might be cousins or brothers, Drake and Ethan have lately been set against much bigger wrestlers. They are exactly the same weight and nearly the same height, and paired against each other, each exhibits levels of bad-ass-ness neither has mustered before. In matching haircuts and cockstentatious singlets, they bump chests for a minute before Marcos gets the first takedown, schoolboy-pinning Andrews to the mat, assuming "schoolboy pin" means rubbing crotch to crotch to induce frenzy, an assumption I do actually make. Then Drake paralyzes Ethan in a full nelson, planting the Midwest boy's fair taut ass atop a tall welcoming bulge. A minute later Ethan reverses the momentum with a well-aimed foot to his assailant's balls, though at this point EAA's erection is so very flag-poled it's practically screaming the national anthem. In time, give and take gives way to Ethan's laying claim to the dominant role--with just enough resistance from Marcos to keep the friction tingly--and focus shifts to the shedding of singlets (to reveal jockstraps) and the full-on weaponizing (and targeting) of genitals. The erotic combat is altogether believable--and hot--and, in the end, the winner literally rides the loser out of the mat room and to (presumably) a bed with leather straps. This is probably Ethan's best battle yet at BGE, so totally at ease is he with (and on top of) Drake.

Monday, April 25, 2016

Marco vs Eagle

Marco vs Eagle, No Holds Barred 61 (Thunders Arena)

We can all probably agree that a match pitting Marco against Eagle is, in and of itself, an exceptionally good thing. If the event does not give us either wrestler at his personal best and if the lighting is uniformly inadequate (considerable tweaking went into the screen grabs above), No Holds Barred 61 still features muscle bulging atop muscle and straining against elasticized trunks in a race to burst loose first. The delights of the latter far outweigh the negatives of the former.

The effort Marco's jellybean-blue bikini makes to stay in place and keep the video PG-13 supplies all the suspense and intensity lacking in the competition. Over the years I have realized that drama is just not Thunders Arena's thing. With rare exceptions, Arena matches are, by design, good-natured frolics between fuck-worthy gym buddies, with plenty of posturing and boyish teasing, but hardly a hint of attitude, aggression, or animosity.

I have come to accept and appreciate the company's lackadaisical approach to conflict. Both Marco and Eagle come off as genial and fun-loving, meaning nobody any serious harm. I should add, though, that for me a large part of Marco's appeal is an undercurrent of menace, which, over the course of 16 months or so, he has kept well hidden. It's hard to recognize in him today the guy who once told me he begged Mr. Mike to put him on the mat with a wrestler he disliked intending to bust him up for real. (That confession has fostered a number of fantasies, I can tell you.)

My moments of ecstasy in NHB16 include all the times Marco shows off his brute power by hoisting Eagle in the air in a fireman's carry or torture rack or bear hug. Each instance makes me feel a little dizzy, not to mention horny. And it's never anything less than rewarding whenever Marco deigns to punch Eagle in the face with his crotch ... or ride his ass like a trick rider at the rodeo. And I have to love the way Eagle seals his fate (over and over again) by striking a few too many muscle poses and just daring Marco to do something about it.

A few weeks ago an online pal and I discussed the charms of Marco. Our shared opinion was that he is a superstud. Even further, we agreed that, whatever his own sexuality, Marco has a well-honed sense of what gay wrestling fans like. He never fails to give us exactly what we want with exactly the right mix of sass and scorn and animal magnetism. 

Eagle, too, is exceptionally sexy, perhaps slightly less charismatic than Marco, but more Apollo-like in his masculine beauty. He may not be as swole as his opponent here, but he possesses a natural elegance that Marco does not.  (Of course, part of me says this in hopes of riling Marco up for a rematch ... with better lighting.)

Sunday, April 24, 2016


Leo Sun vs Steve Mason (Movimus)

Movimus's wrestling videos of young athletes wrestling sometimes induce a lucid dream state in me. I compare them to the old (now out of business) Lets Wrestle, especially the eerily quiet matches featuring Mark Lander.

This is particularly true of the videos featuring wrestlers who don't have a lot to say. The latest release, with newcomers Steve Mason (second time) and Leo Sun (third time), glides through a two-submission match with little more soundtrack than the shuffle of bodies and the occasional moan of mild distress as one finds himself caught in the clutch of the other.

Leo and Steve are ideally matched, within an inch of either in height, within a single pound in weight. Their prowess is likewise similar. They favor the same strategies and holds. They keep the same pace. The screen  grabs above, depicting moments of exquisite paralysis, are not entirely representative. These guys play rough with each other. I could watch them contend for hours, hypnotized and yet stimulated, and indeed they seem to have the stamina for eight-hour stretches of combat.

Steve and Leo are serious athletes who clearly have acquired their skill set and discipline through rigorous training and practice. I suspect we will see rematches in the near future. I hope so. Even as I write this, an hour, almost two, since my last viewing, I am still under this video's spell.


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