gut punching

Posts Tagged With ‘gut punching’

Pretty Strong, or Just Pretty?

When Pete Sharp first arrived at BG East, tongues wagged and crotches were adjusted en masse. The blond, bronzed, blue-eyed fitness model had our wrestlers lined up for a closer look at those sculpted muscles, handsome face and mammoth package. In his debut match, he demonstrated that all of that dazzling beauty and those bulging muscles aren’t just for show. This hunk can wrestle! He leveraged all of that power into solidly dominating a BG East veteran and putting the rest of our wrestlers on notice: get distracted by those azure eyes, and that mountainous package, and Pete Sharp will make you hurt.

Pete is accustomed to that look of awe that washes across the faces of the lucky bastards that get a glimpse of his fabulous physique in the flesh. He knows the power that his beauty has over fans and opponents alike. But don’t call Pete “pretty.” This stud is cool as shaved ice, but there’s one thing that will light his fuse in a flash, being called “pretty”.

“So, are you pretty strong, or just pretty!?” Kid Karisma smirks as he steps into the gazebo and sees the dazzling rookie. The ginger hunk was chomping at the bit to be the next in line to take a ride on Pete Sharp’s pumped pecs, and the perennially dangerous veteran has mastered an extensive arsenal of psychological warfare. He’s also demonstrated against more than a dozen opponents that he’s as wickedly dangerous as he is extremely self-confident. Pete’s babyblue trunks are the precise shade of his piercing eyes. True, Kid K is giving up nearly a half a foot in height to the bronze statue of a wet dream. But there’s just about nothing more satisfying to Kid Karisma than climbing under the skin of a hot, hard, young rookie with surgically precise trash talk, and then milking the very essence of agony out of him with hard hitting, lightning fast wrestling domination.

Side by side, the two ripped hunks compare their terrifically toned physiques. Despite the height difference, they are close to a perfect match when it comes to their massively peaked biceps. “Let me see a lat spread on you,” Kid Karisma demands, admiring Pete’s broad shoulders and wide upper back that tapers in a perfect V to his lean waist and big, powerful glutes. “Not bad,” Karisma concedes, “now let’s see those legs.” Few physiques could seriously compare with Kid Karisma’s incredibly built lower body, but he has to give the stunning golden rookie credit. “So you work out every so often. Fine. Not bad.”

Kid K works out “every so often,” too, and has a distinct advantage in experience. Instantly, he takes it to Pete with lightning quick offense. In a flash, the golden rookie finds himself flat on his back and schoolboy pinned beneath a smirking, freckled, redheaded powerhouse with a passionate delight for making pretty boys cry uncle.

Kid Karisma delivers a steady stream of match commentary to accompany his blistering offense. “I know it hurts,” he chuckles, crushing Pete’s midsection between his gargantuan thighs. “Come on, don’t be a tough guy.” Karisma is simply not the same stud he was when he first arrived at BG East a few years ago. His already massive ego is, somehow, even bigger, but it’s his wrestling skills that have absolutely blossomed. He rips Pete apart in a crotch-ripping grapevine, with the added bonus of spotlighting that behemoth package Pete has barely managed to stuff in his trunks. Kid Karisma swarms all over the bronzed beauty. Camel clutches, abdominal claws, and gut punches deliver the rookie a buffet of choice punishment, but over and over the veteran returns to clamping those bone-crushing thighs around the rookie’s body and head and making Pete suffer long and hard.

As Pete promised, all those tanned, toned muscles aren’t just for looking pretty. He persistently muscles free from one steel trap after another, defying Kid Karisma’s attempts to squeeze any easy submissions out of the bronze beefcake. The rookie plays defense a while, but suddenly locks on a skull crushing headscissors of his own, making the hunky veteran’s face turn red two shades darker than his hair. Kid Karisma’s trash talk is abruptly silenced with his face buried deep between the rookie’s monster thighs, and Pete watches his opponent’s squirming body with satisfaction written all over that gorgeous face. “Like that?” Pete crows. “You ain’t going nowhere!” he promises, flexing a picture perfect bicep and showing off his truly awesome body for the swelling ranks of Pete Sharp fans.

Keeping Kid K controlled is easier said than done, and with a lot of grunting, flexing and lubricated with a liberal coat of sweat, the veteran muscles out. When they climb to their feet, Pete grins mockingly, “I’m just toying with you, man.” His pecs bounce eagerly. “Oh, fuck you, man!” the veteran snaps back angrily, flinging himself headlong into another scramble of sculpted muscle locked in combat. Pete is a quick study, and when it comes to getting underneath the skin of an opponent, two can play at that game!

This match is a feast for muscle fans. Karisma’s pale, freckled, pumped physique is a gorgeous study in contrast as he tangles with the bronzed goldenboy struggling to hold onto his dignity. The veteran shows off every angle of Pete’s prettiest parts, and a close eye will note that the rookie’s powder blue pouch is not always up to the challenge of keeping the monster beneath entirely caged. But Pete seems to have Kid Karisma’s number, seemingly taking the veteran at will into one dangerously vulnerable rear naked choke after another. Before all is said and done, one of these powerful hunks finds himself locked up tight and knocked out cold, limp in his opponent’s crushing arms. And even then, the muscle show isn’t nearly over, as the victor celebrates with a cocky, self-congratulatory muscle posing session, counting out a long, slow, humiliating ten count especially for you!

Perfection Meets Performance

Needless to say, BG East has seen many impressive physiques over the years, but few come as chiseled to perfection as the ever gorgeous, magazine and physique model Z-Man. A contender for Best Body of 2012, he always seems to be in top form for every match. While he may not have a spotless win/loss record, he’s more than held his own against some of BG East’s best and brightest stars. He’s proven those muscles aren’t just for show, taking on the best and worst that talents like Jonny Firestorm, Austin Cooper, and even the indomitable heel Dick Rick have thrown at him. I mean, how many BG East wrestlers can claim to have taken a superplex from the top turnbuckle? Impressive, for sure. But even the intrepid Z-Man may be in over his head in this match-up.

This may only be strikingly handsome hunk Lane Hartley’s second appearance in the BG East ring, but his first match speaks volumes. The newbie, supposed rookie Lane left beefy bodybuilder Brad Barnes a quivering mass of muscle in the middle of the ring, unable to offer any resistance for virtually the entire match. It was a stunning debut. This clearly experienced wrestling powerhouse with a spectacular physique showed not only strength and skill, but a sadistic streak both shocking, and much admired by many of our fans. In his debut match alone Lane may have dished out more punishment than Z-Man has in his entire tenure here at BG East, and this time the towering, muscled stud Lane has an even greater size advantage over his pretty boy opponent.

As the two incredibly impressive specimens meet in the ring, Lane shows a more sporting side, offering his hand to Z-Man to mark the start of their friendly match, but more experienced viewers will know what’s coming next. Z-Man takes his opponent’s hand without a second thought, and gets a hard boot to his gut for his naiveté. Lane quickly shows us he’s not pulling his punches any more than last time, with stiff forearms leaving Z-Man reeling before sending the cover model to the mat. Lane knows that cementing his rep and establishing his claim to top-dog status at BG East requires an equally impressive follow-up to his debut stunner. And what better opponent on whom to press his point and secure his place in the BG East pantheon than that redoubtable battler Z-Man!

Z-man tries to mount an offensive, making it back to his feet and even forcing Lane back to the ropes and into the corner, but what little momentum he gains is quickly cut off by more powerful blows from the big man. The match has barely begun and Lane’s already looking at a downed opponent, eager to find the best way to punish the sculpted body before him. As Lane closes in, a long list of tortuous holds in mind, how long can Z-Man last against this heel out to make a name for himself at his opponent’s expense?

One would think, looking at Z-Man’s resume, that he would be able to give this newcomer a decent run for his money. But just because he’s new to BG East, doesn’t mean Lane is new to wrestling. Quite the contrary, he uses Z-Man like a wrestling dummy to showcase his power and talents. Wearing his opponent down in hold after hold, we also see a darker side to Lane. More than just a skilled wrestler, when he sees Z-man writhing on the mat, groaning and clutching his weakened back, a sinister smile crosses Lane’s face as he focuses his efforts on his newly acquired target. And it’s both thrilling and frightening.

Z-Man screams while pinned against the ropes, Lane driving his knee into the model’s spine. What little fight Z-Man brings to the match could barely be called a struggle, managing to kick out of a pin attempt only when Lane barely bothers to hold him down. Annoyed by such pathetic resistance, Lane tosses Z-Man into the ropes for another beating before slamming him back down to the mat for the first fall of the match.

Despite the brutal beating he’s taken so far, Z-Man’s not out yet. He hasn’t made it in BG East on looks alone, and has survived against other wrestlers of Lane’s stature and experience. Though he pays for it, he manages to keep Lane guessing, striking when his opponent least expects it. Finally, with Z-Man sagging in the corner, Lane’s overconfidence catches up with him and he crashes into the post as the momentarily revived Z-Man rolls Lane up for a three count, and these two men are suddenly tied at one fall each.

Z-s victory is short-lived, however. The dominant Lane doesn’t take his momentary embarrassment lying down, and while he was clearly out to hurt Z-Man before, the big bruiser now looks like he’s trying to destroy his cover model opponent. Powerful stomps, slams, and a spectacular suplex shuts Z-Man down once again, leaving him writhing on the mat in pain. A spectacular bearhug is as sweaty and sexy as you might imagine a clinching of these two magnificent bodies could be. In addition to Lane and Z-Man being two of the most extraordinarily handsome men to ever step through ring ropes, Lane’s application and Z-Man’s suffering is as iconic and arousing as any bearhug we’ve ever taped or seen.

One hold after another targets each part of Z-Man’s perfectly chiseled form, and with each scream from the hurting pretty boy a comeback seems less and less likely. Can the battered Z-Man put a stop to Lane’s impressive performance, or is the new heel’s dominant streak here at BG East just getting started? In either case, this is match for the history books, one to savor, cherish and revisit for decades to cum!

The Mastodon vs. The Mighty Mouse

Morgan Cruise is quickly becoming a wrestler who needs no introduction. Powering through one opponent after another in ever more awesome displays, The Mastodon is fast running out of wrestlers who can offer him a challenge, not that there were many to begin with. Clearly his intended opponent didn’t feel up to the task, as our latest contender failed to show up after learning he would be climbing into the ring with none other than Morgan Cruise. Forced to find a last-minute replacement, we were surprised, to say the least, by the young lightweight professional wrestler who decided to rise to the occasion.

Tim Messina may not be the most impressive of physical specimens, but he’s a pro of no small skill, and he’s gotten quite used to going up against bigger and stronger wrestlers – as if he has any choice! What he lacks in strength he makes up for in speed, skill and surprising tactics, and he keeps the big men guessing while they try in vain to get a handle – and more – on him. But despite his scrappy nature and experience, we can’t help but feel he’s gotten in way over his head stepping up to take on wrestler like Cruise.

The Mastodon is clearly unimpressed, looking right past Messina at the mirror to admire his own muscles as he flexes before the match, only pausing to ask his latest soon-to-be conquest “You scared, boy?” The match starts as expected, Cruise slamming Tim down to the mat, showing his power and pausing between bodyslams to flex and pose. But Messina reminds us he’s not to be underestimated, dodging Cruise’s latest attack he delivers two kicks to The Mastodon’s chin and scoops Cruise up for a bodyslam of his own!

Tim’s already faring better than expected, though Cruise isn’t about to let that last. Catching Messina off the ropes he slams him down to the mat before going to work on his back. Cruise is ready to start the match in earnest, and begins his work breaking down his opponent with cruel precision. From the mat to the ropes, Tim is pounded and stretched as his spine takes the brunt of The Mastodon’s assault, and this is only the beginning.

The match has barely begun and Tim’s back is already taking a beating. Cruise lifts him high in a crushing bearhug while parading his victim around the ring, never failing to appreciate the sight of his own muscles at work. Shooting Tim into the ropes for another impressive display, Cruise catches Messina and raises him high off the mat, only for the smaller wrestler to send the big man’s head slamming down with a DDT! In an amazing turnaround, Tim Messina covers morgan Cruise for a three count and claims the first fall in this match! Maybe we weren’t the only ones to underestimate the little guy.

Unhappy, though not deterred by this turn of events, Cruise cuts off Messina’s celebration in short order. More slams followed by a spine-bending boston crab quickly have Tim screaming and slapping the mat for mercy. Cruise pauses for just a minute to admire his handiwork as Messina crawls on the mat before lifting, then dropping the lighter pro into a brutal over-the-knee backbreaker, not once, but three times! Tim hangs helplessly, rocked over Cruise’s leg for what must feel to him like an eternity before he’s finally released, though only so Cruise can have another session with his own reflection.

The very self-assured and ever self-admiring Mastodon has to learn not to take this pro lightly, though, because when they connect, Tim Messina’s flying feet are lethal weapons! This kid is fast and he can fly. Messina manages to pull off a flying headscissors before pulling Cruise into a submission hold of his own. Suddenly it’s the big bully who’s doing the moaning and groaning. But can the high-flying lean lightweight capitalize of his advantage to even the playing field with the tough guy? Despite his strength, The Mastodon has difficulty breaking free, but this match is only just getting started.

Messina fights hard to bring down the powerhouse, while Cruise tries to keep the leaner, lighter wrestler under his heel. If back breakers are your thing, this match is a veritable feast of one spine-bender and back cruncher after another Mind-boggling torture racks, brutal bostons, spine crunching camels, incredibly sexy and oft-repeated, back-breaking bearhugs join a buffet of inventive and punishing locks and painful submissions holds applied on and by both men. As the submissions mount, Tim refuses to call it quits, but he may be fighting a losing battle against an unstoppable force. Can the scrappy Messina overcome Cruise in a stunning upset? Or is it just a matter of time before The Mastodon breaks him down and puts him away for good? In the end, one final submission hold marks a decisive victory in this very creative and extraordinarily brutal battle.

Masked Heat

Can you feel the heat? We usually think of masked wrestling as a ring spectacle, deriving from revered, very stylized, quasi-mystical traditions of ring combat in Mexico and, from there, Japan. But in this match, BG East drops some extra kink into the mix as hairy-chested and statuesque Glacier Blue squares off against twinky-smooth Gold Shaft in the Florida sun room. The result is a steamy homoerotic mat match that draws as much from rough S&M foreplay as from the drama and symbolism of a mask-stakes battle in old-school lucha libre. This masked match is hot and horny, sensual and sexy and about as close as you can get to an X-Fight without stripping off your trunks.

The contestants’ names and masks may be new to you, but they have wrestled before, including on camera here at BG East. So you may well experience a sense of deja-vu familiarity. Many wrestlers, including BGE boys, love the opportunity to become someone else, to assume a new persona, a new style and new freedom the anonymity of the mystical mask provides. There’s also the thrill and threat of exposure to add to the excitement. The sun room temperature seemed to rise ten degrees when we told the guys we wanted them to compete not only to unmask their opponent but also to decide who was the bottom and who the top. This ratcheted up the already considerable heat-generating between these two masked studs even higher!

And so sex is definitely in the air as Gold Shaft and Glacier Blue circle one another and size each other up through the eyeholes in their masks. Gold Shaft is the smaller of the two, compactly but fitly built, with a treasure trail dangling from his navel and disappearing at the waistband of his tight, skimpy, perfectly form-fitting and very fully packed metallic gold trunks. Glacier Blue’s rugged, lightly hairy body looms over Gold Shaft, masterfully poised, clearly confident of the ultimate victory and sexual domination, brimming with testosterone-fueled daddy-vibrations, and sporting well his very well-packed, pouch-prominent bulge in those sexy, mask-matching underbriefs.

It’s a smoldering staring contest at the center of the mat, chest bumping up against chest, shoulders back, teeth gritted, bulge bumping bulge, both masked men braced for collision. It’s one of those opening confrontations where little is said or done, where little is needed to be said or done to establish the scene and build some intense heat, between the two wrestlers as well as building some heat among those if us watching!

The fight starts when Glacier Blue takes a step back, feigning disengagement, only to lunge right back in at Gold Shaft. Wasting no time in taking the golden boy to the mats, he slaps his opponent’s shoulders to the mat and stretches the kid’s thighs out wide, delivering stiff, staccato punches to the vulnerable midsection. Then, irresistibly, he clutches that gold-plated crotch in his fist. But as we’ve learned from his previous appearances, Gold Shaft is no rookie and no jobber. This is not his first masked mayhem. And afterall, HE still has his mask. That cannot be said of his past opponents!

Trapping his opponent in a tight headscissors, Glacier Blue finds, soon enough, that his own head is caught between his adversary’s smooth yet muscular thighs. After a short struggle, the 69-scissors challenge breaks up in Gold Shaft’s favor. Glacier Blue is shocked to find himself on the receiving end of some serious and prolonged gut punching and ball grabbing. Gold Shaft straddles the big man’s bulge and drums his fist to the hairy chest, pinning and repeatedly thrusting his 24-karat gold erection up to his victim’s mouth.

Glacier Blue fights back, rolling Gold Shaft to his back, both men visibly excited as victory seems equally within reach for either one of them. The prospect of owning the other creates eye-popping burgeoning bulges in both pairs of sweaty trunks. Grappling holds intermingle with lustful embraces. Skin chafes against skin, trunks are tantalizingly peeled and both wrestlers are sucking in the room’s thickening air in lusty, two-fisted gulps.

This match is as suspenseful as it is sexy. It’s also about erotic domination as much as it is about physical superiority. Despite the disparity in height and weight, these two mystery fighters are perfectly well matched. In the end, just as we hoped, one man is humiliatingly and ritualistically stripped of his mask and then, for added measure, choked out, so that the victor can use his body for a sex toy for a long and sensuous count of three.

Call PETA! Aryx Quinn Skins Another Jobber!

Hotheaded Aryx Quinn catches Muscle Mask going through his stuff, even trying on Quinn’s iconic leather jacket for size. Uh oh – this is NOT going to go down well in Aryx Land! No way this is going to end without a fight! Aryx’s volatile nature, short fuse and subsequent pugnacity are as legendary as his smooth, honey-hued physique. This guy will fight you for having a cheap haircut, much less for pawing his precious satiny ring gear.

Folks say Aryx wins matches mostly with his mouth, having one of the fastest minds and the biggest insult phrasebook in the business. Other folks say 90% of Aryx’s victories hang on his ability to wage war on his opponent’s psyche well before the first knee hits the first ball-sack. Both theories are true as far as they go, but it’s also true that Aryx has a deep vein of mean to mine, and he never runs out of nasty, which he serves up in Costco-size value packs. And nothing gets Aryx’s carefully selected panties in a twist like literally twisting the man’s carefully selected panties.

Even outweighing Aryx by about 30 pounds, Muscle Mask is shitting in his silks as Aryx blasts him out for daring to poke around in his drawers. In a flash Aryx is pounding the bodybuilder down to his hands and knees, stripping off his prized, precious leather jacket, and choking the masked muscle hunk with it. He backs the big man to the ring post and tommy-guns the guy’s abs with his bare knuckles. “Don’t you ever … ever disrespect me … wearing my shit … touching my shit! Nobody touches my shit! NOBODY!”, Aryx explodes. Tearing the jacket away from the cowering masked man, Aryx tells him it’s not made of leather. It’s made from the skins of little jobbers who dared to stick their noses into Aryx Quinn’s business. And, holy hell, by now we are all ready to believe him!

“You’re all show, and no go!” is how Aryx Quinn sums up the thick, well-carved muscle mass that Muscle Mask sports. Aryx has more go in his left nut than the Muscle Mask has in his entire posedown-ready body – according to Aryx, that is. He taunts the big lug with the charge that only for a fleeting fraction of a second did Aryx ever consider the possibility that Muscle Mask might kick his ass. He’s not the least bit daunted by the size differential.

Aryx tucks a prize pair of his yellow trunks into his right boot, telling his big, blubbering opponent that they’re all his to win and own… IF he’s got game enough to wrest them away from him. “If you had any sense, kiddo,” Aryx rails, “you never would’ve stepped into the BG Arena, let alone rifled through my personal property – you fuckin’ pervert!!” Then he proceeds to blast away at every inch of muscle he can get his hands on. You’ve never seen USDA prime beef turn to milquetoast so fast. He pounds, pummels, punishes and repeatedly humiliates the muscle stud with total confidence and supreme arrogance. Aryx calls himself “110% natural nitroglycerin” for good reason!

Lithe, slippery Aryx has taken on the big boys here at BG East before, guys like Denny Cartier, Eddy Rey, Donnie Drake, Mitch Colby, and Tyrell Tomsen. Aryx doesn’t always triumph, but when he leaves the ring, the other guy always knows he’s been in a fight, all right. Aryx does not go down easily. So distinctive a performer is Aryx Quinn that The Boss himself, Kid Leopard, tailor-made a finishing hold expressly for him, a sexy and lethal submission hold that’s reportedly impossible to escape, spelling certain doom for whoever finds himself caught in it … 110% effective, 100% of the time!

Aryx employs several such KL invented finishers in this match, as well as improvising a few of his own invention, working over all that delicious beefy muscle on his masked opponent. While torturing Musclemask in his Quinn Lock leg hold, he strips the hunk of his boot and then covers his face with it like an oxygen mask! Like him or loathe him, there are few wrestlers as entertaining – and certainly no one as arrogant – as Aryx Quinn.

To celebrate the 100th video release from Rock Hard, we decided to round up three of our best superstar wrestlers, throw them in the ring together, and for the fan’s delight see who will be the last man standing. Each one of the superstars bring different strengths and greek god like physiques to the ring; Alex has burst on the scene as the new bad boy frat boy with a picture perfect face and incredible muscles, Josh has added another 30 pounds of muscle to his well-known body and developed somewhat of a mean streak since first arriving as the laid back, blond hair surfer dude, and Jake returns from a respite away from the ring seeking to lay claim to the dominance he once enjoyed within the underground wrestling world.

Each of these warriors not only has something to gain from winning this match, but also has something to potentially lose. Each of the combatants starts in their respective corners; Alex clad in green trunks and black boots, Josh in blue trunks and white boots, and Jake in his signature red trunks and black boots. None of these guys are shy about showing off their well sculpted bodies, so of course a flexing session breaks out. Jake and Alex compare biceps while Josh flexes in the background, that is, until Jake starts the action with a swift jab to Alex’s abs while Josh stands back and gets a laugh. Jake follows up with an elbow drop, and Josh circles around to connect with a flying leg drop across Alex’s torso.

Alex gets to his feet and he and Josh back Jake into the corner. Alex picks Jake up and scoop slams him to the mat, then Josh strikes with a fist into Alex’s ripped six-pack. Josh then starts attacking Jake until Alex comes over and kicks Josh’s feet out from under him and begins to stomp away on his body. It’s mayhem in the ring with each of these guys going after one another. Josh lifts and power bombs Alex to the mat, then Jake shoulder blocks the big blond back into the turnbuckle. Josh slumps to the mat, then Alex and Jake lift him to his feet and suplex the 180 pound muscle stud back to the mat. Josh screams in pain, while Jake cheap shots Alex with a boot to the stomach. The frenzied action continues as each of these muscle studs attempt to gain the upper hand. With Jake down on the mat, Alex straddles him and pulls back on his arms attempting a camel clutch, but Josh rushes in and wants a piece of that action, so now the blond surfer is atop Jake yanking up on his chin until Alex jumps on top of Josh’s back and is yanking back on his chin in a 3-way pseudo camel clutch hold. An incredible pile of sweaty muscle to behold!

As the melee continues, Josh appears to have the upper hand in both size and strength, able to control each of the smaller muscle boys on his own. That is, until Jake and Alex realize they need to join forces to take out this blond haired, Kevin von Erich look alike. They conspire in the corner to join forces before rushing into Josh and connecting with a double clothesline that sends him falling to the mat. What ensues is a double teaming by the two smaller, mean streaked wrestlers against the bigger muscle stud Josh. Jake and Alex clamp on dual leg scissors across the blond boy’s beautiful body causing him to suffer and scream. They then transition to Jake wrapping his powerful thighs around Josh’s head and Alex securing a leg lock that has the surfer dude stretched out in pain much to the delight of his opponents.

The two of them then each secure an arm and leg on either side of Josh into a double wishbone and begin to pull as hard as they can, stretching Josh’s sweat soaked muscular body out into an ‘X’ in the center of the ring. When Josh won’t submit, Jake says to Alex ‘you know what I’m thinking?’ and they lift Josh’s limp body to his feet and into a double team suplex that sends him skipping across the mat. With the sweat dripping off all three of these incredible bodies, Jake and Alex stomp away on Josh’s back to soften him up. Alex sits down on Josh’s butt and grabs his ankles, while Jake sits on his back and starts cranking back on Josh’s chin.

They have the big, blond muscle stud down on the mat and secured in a double team torture hold. Josh is in some serious trouble and he knows it! They continue to stretch Josh’s body out in agony, berating him and even forcing him to look at his own suffering in the mirror. As much as Josh tries to endure the predicament he’s in, he is ordered to cry out a submission so both Alex and Jake hear it, before they release the hold and kick Josh’s beaten and broken sweat soaked body out of the ring to end a crazy round one!

After they congratulate each other and flex in victory for round one, Alex proclaims ‘now it’s on’, looking ahead to his showdown with Jake in round two. The veteran Jake comes out of his corner saying slyly ‘it was nice being on your team, but know I got to take you out.’ Alex brushes it off, but Jake scores first with a double leg takedown, then pounds and tosses the fratboy around at will.

But Alex is no pushover and has learned his way around the ring, and takes the control with an over the knee backbreaker before stretching Jake’s magnificent body to its limits. Sweat drips from both bodies and muscles flex to the max as each of these superstars seek to secure the ultimate victory. Can the old guard prevail over the new guard? Will the machine Jake overpower the cocky fratboy Alex? These two muscle hunks lay it all on the line, climaxing in an extraordinary finish to an epic match you’ll want to watch over and over!

Blue Lightning Strikes Back!

Hands belonging to an unseen agent open an antique wooden chest. Inside we find articles of ring attire, which the hands carefully remove: blue tights, blue boots, and a blue mask. The ritual piques our interest and our curiosity. For many wrestlers and for many wrestling fans the selection of gear – as well as the style, cut, color, fabric and feel of the gear itself – has a whole special significance, as important as the choice of venue and for some even as important as the outcome of the match itself.

Next we see the unidentified agent, face obscured from our view, donning the gear and assuming the identity of fabled BG East masked wrestler Blue Lightning, a figure steeped in mystery, legend, and just perhaps, if you believe such things, magical power. He has haunted the BGE ring before in the Superhero Heel series, bringing doom to golden boy Troy Baker and facing his own at the hands of the sinister Black Spider, who bared the masked wrestler’s face and ass … thus destroying the legend forever … or did he?

Cut to the BG East ring. Red Rocket is an equally magnificent sight to behold: sleek red tights, black boots, and a red mask that covers his entire head, with the traditional lucha trim (antifaz) in yellow, accentuating eyes, nose, and mouth. His torso is golden and sharply defined, as splendidly proportioned and as muscular as any comic-book hero’s. He’s fire and fury personified, coiled tight like a spring and ready to ignite. His bangin’ body and beautiful butt would be right at home at a swim meet or on the cover of a Harlequin romance novel. Red Rocket prepares, stretching his lithe muscles when Blue Lightning wordlessly creeps into the ring and gives notice that the handsome hero in red is soon to bite the dust. Rocket looks undaunted. Then, all of a sudden, Lightning strikes!

Blue Lightning almost effortlessly controls Red Rocket, focusing his attention on the red-clad hero’s shoulders, neck and abs. He clamps a near-paralyzing full nelson on his adversary, repeatedly pressing the studly masked man into the ropes to grind and show off his massive and very prominent bulge on and over the middle rope. But Red escapes by bashing his assailant’s spine to the ring corner and then mule-kicking him in the ribs. Ouch! Things may not run as smoothly for the rudo in blue as he had hoped!

You cross a dangerous line fraught with peril when you attack another fighter’s manhood, a line which reads: Warning! You are now fair game now yourself! Once the groin is assaulted you open a pandora’s box full of potential retributions! A snapmare and headscissors force Lightning to submit, especially after Red Rocket pinches the bulge at Blue Boy’s crotch between his heels(!), an unexpected but highly welcome touch of mean-as-a-skunk sadism. Lightning clutches his throbbing jewels while the handsome tecnico strikes bicep poses over his head. When Red Rocket adds insult to injury by actually treading on him with his boots, Blue Lightning grabs the babyface (babymask?) by the feet, drags him down to the canvas, and demolishes him with elbow drops, stiff punches, and a nerve-frying claw hold on the trapezius muscle. The battle is on!

Blue Lightning’s legendary claw holds are said to feel like high-voltage bolts zapping the full length of the victim’s body. Lightning’s rage knows no limits, and the ring action turns electric as the two masked men slug it out at the ring corner, climaxing with a lengthy and deliciously agonizing abdominal claw hold in the center of the ring. Not convinced that the crimson crusader has writhed and thrashed enough, Blue Lightning clings to the top rope while digging his boot heel into his opponent’s stomach and chest. Then yet another shoulder claw, and then, most amazing of all, Lightning lifts Red Rocket off his feet with a double stomach claw – from behind! – forcing a stunning submission.

Can Lightning strike twice? At BG East it can and usually does. In a hair-raising finish, one masked wrestler gets stripped of his mask and his tights and forced to submit in an excruciating and absolutely exquisite bear-hug which showcases Rocket’s phenomenal butt cheeks. Don’t be surprised to find the outline of a shaft of Lightning on your briefs before the end of this battle of super-heroic proportions! For fans of masks and tights and thongs, big bulges on ample display and eye-popping bearhugs, this match is pure magic.

Catchweight Classic: Last “Boy” Standing?

Fans of big-versus-little will love this match as statuesque Donnie Drake and wiry Lon Dumont step in the ring for a “last ‘boy’ standing” contest, the winner being the one who can slow-count to 10 while his opponent lies groveling or unconscious at his feet. The boys have been itching for this kind of decisive ordeal, looking for a clean, conclusive win that will put them over with hardcore fans once and for all. And if the two fighters have been hot for this match, so have the fans! It’s arguable as to who has the bigger BG East following. Donnie’s appearance on a wrestling reality TV show and Lon’s well-documented exploits as a competitive bodybuilder have cemented huge followings for both.

And what a set-up! Two men enter the ring, one man leaves, as basic a premise as survival of the fittest, no ref, no rules, no muss, no fuss. Lon’s been steadily building a fiercely loyal fan base over the course of a dozen matches at BG East. Donnie, with almost twice that many bouts notched up, is the obvious favorite, with his height and weight advantage and A-list training in pro-style wrestling. Neither of these guys is running low on ego, and making matters even more interesting, the two have faced off once already, several years ago on opposing teams in BGE’s Tag Team Torture 12. That battle left a bad taste in both wrestlers’ mouths, and even with tag team partners to diffuse the animosity, Lon Dumont and Donnie Drake singled each other out as THE “man to beat” that very day. Ever since then, each has been near or at the top of the other’s shortlist of wrestlers he wants to get his hands on again – for a definitive, undeniable result.

These fine athletes are in peak condition, Lon in pink trunks that hug and accentuate his muscular legs and Donnie in candy blue, looking dreamier with each passing year, more matinee idol than typical heel. Donnie can’t stop himself from snidely commenting on Lon’s pink gear. He pushes himself right up to Lon, towering over his head, his broad shoulders catching the overhead light. He looks down at his opponent and quips, “You don’t look bad, kid, but look at me and, hm, look at you.” Unfazed, Lon mocks Donnie’s baby-blue entrance robe and complains about the big guy’s breath. In a showy gesture of magnanimity, Donnie offers Lon “one free shot,” pointing to the sharp, clean edge of his perfectly square jaw. Lon swings and Donnie dodges the blow, only to fatally pause at the mirror to flash his winner’s smile before the always alert Lon clubs him from behind.

On the one hand, Donnie knows his strong points, and frankly he has very few points that are anything else. He uses his height to his advantage when he presses the sole of his big boot to Lon’s throat, pinning him to the corner of the ring, with Lon lacking the reach to do a damn thing about it. He uses his weight as a battering ram, to blast, crush, and wreck. Donnie’s massive brawn means he can power out of almost any submission hold that Lon might slip on him. He uses the afore-mentioned robe to choke Lon, then uses it to sling him over the top rope! As ruthless as he is powerful, Donnie lets Lon scream “I quit” a dozen times, not quite convinced that he’s hurt the muscleman enough. Then he serves up an across-the-knee backbreaker that he’s been saving up especially for Lon. It’s a savage move that utilizes Donnie’s height, weight, strength, and speed to full advantage.

Lon, on the other hand, has resources to match Donnie’s. Speed, for one thing. Cunning for another. Donnie’s definitely fast for his size, but he will have to go some to catch up with Lon, who is as agile, resilient, and canny as any wrestler on the BG East roster. Again and again, Lon hurls himself at Donnie like a human lasso and then wraps him up like a tourniquet made of razor-wire. He makes the big man suffer, all right, zinging in with a blow to his opponent’s right side before the guy has time even to say “ouch” after a chop to the left. He certainly has the muscle power to back up his big moves but it’s the small, incisive, stinging ones which wreak a cumulative havoc on his bigger opponent.

Of course, this is the kind of contrast in styles, size and strategy that lovers of big-versus-little matches eat up. Who wins? The lithe ripped-to-shreds little guy, seemingly impossible to exhaust, or the big beefy humpy hunk who looks as destructive and indestructible as a wrecking ball? Leave it to BG East to keep you guessing … and just when you think it’s over, the winner can’t resist climbing back into the ring to take one more crack at obliterating his rival. In either case, here’s a fearsome feast featuring two incredibly talented and sexy studs taking it to the limit in private pro action. Who wins? We do!

Daddy Issues

Anybody else jonesing for old-school grunt-and-groan, spit-and-swear rassling? You know what we we’re talking about: a couple of big thick sides of Grade-A beef ripping through each other on the mat and against the ropes. This match remembers the days of the Iron Sheik, Terry Funk, Stan The Man Hansen, Killer Kowalski, and Iron Mike Sharpe. Our sister site NewProWrestling.com routinely provides old school, old style kick-ass pro and BGE’s counterpart, also known as the “Pros In Private” series does likewise, but this match takes it all to a new level, taking us back – and forward – at the same time!

We proudly introduce Flash and Guido, a couple of tough customers straight out of the pro ranks, guys who eat bear for breakfast, cobra for lunch, and mountain lion for dinner. They’re mean as hornets, strong as bulls – and sexy as fuck. And today they’re bringing us the good shit from the sweat-stained mats of yesteryear: dirty fighting, nostril stretching, ball stomping, tendon snapping, biting, clawing, howling, and slugging. Go someplace else if you want to watch baggy-pantsed 95-pound skateboarders jump off the top ropes. These big guys don’t fly high. These men are here to crush some goddamned bone! And not just any knock-down drag-out bigman battle: this one’s a ‘Last Man Standing’ match: you don’t win until you’re opponent can’t continue. 10-count KO, no submissions recognized!

“Don’t worry,” growls Guido, licking his chops. “Daddy’s here for you!” Flash sneers, in reply, threatening to “pop your head like a pimple, ‘Daddy.'” We don’t know who pissed in whose tomato juice this morning, but these guys were raring to butt heads from the moment they first set eyes on each other. We seriously thought we might have to keep Guido locked in the toolshed till bell time. The Joisey boy, in yellow spiderweb trunks, is thickly built, hairy chested, quick tempered and a well-known icon to indy fans. He’s the kind of fighter you half-expect to tear into the turnbuckle with his teeth. He has crazy eyes and a tongue prone to lolling out while he twists the limbs off opponents. Anything can happen when this man enters the ring, and Flash knows it … and he can’t wait!

In striking contrast to his opponent, Flash, in the tangerine trunks, is smooth bodied, mustachioed, with a sharp angular take-no-prisoners face, his hair cut severely in a Marine-style mohawk. After giving Guido a big taste of his own medicine well into the match, Flash snarls, “You messed with the wrong bad guy, Daddy boy!”

This is a closely matched and brutally fought battle between two very experienced bad-asses, both well-known indy stars and ring savvy veterans – and neither of whom is too kindly disposed to the other! There’s something about the coldness in their eyes and the set of their jaws which tells us that neither one of these guys is ever going to submit easily… or settle for anything less than being the Last Man Standing in the ring.

Their first time in BG East’s squared circle, both are set on claiming the territory as their own, and “sharing” is not a word likely to pass either wrestler’s lips, ever. Both fighters are intent on emerging as the new super stud at BGE. True to the spirit of regional wrestling of days long past, the confrontation offers plenty of sweaty, sexy mat grappling, long-held and arduous scissor holds, tight figure fours, breathtaking chokes, crushing headlocks, and up-against-the-ropes abuse. The two men’s volatility and personal animus eliminate any chance of this being a clean, gentlemanly contest. No sportsmanlike handshakes are exchanged. From the get-go Flash and Guido make it clear they’re here to play hardball, and they waste no time in breaking a sweat and grinding each other down to gravy.

In and out of the ring, the fight is brutal. The whole ring shudders and thunders from the successive blasts of violence, a near-constant roar interrupted only when the two are locked together in all-out efforts to squeeze the last cubic inch of air out of each other. We worry not just about the well-being of these two battlers pounding the snot out of each other but whether or not the ring surrounding them can contain and withstand the ferocious pounding and punishment. This match has all the fire and fury of a street brawl.

Guido has an obvious weight and mass advantage over Flash, and he uses it with savage effectiveness. All that bulk, all that beef just seems totally unstoppable. But Flash proves to have resilience and strategy to outmatch his rival’s. With speed and unforgiving force, he ties Guido into knots and makes him think twice about ever stepping on the mat with him again. Guido’s initial control of the fight is quickly broken by tight, hairpin-curve reversals that make this unforgettable row a nail-biter to the last second!

Innovation, Customization, and Wrestling Made-to-Order

It’s impossible to please all wrestling fans all of the time. But this groundbreaking product comes as close as humanly possible to delivering just such an impossibility! From the most innovative wrestling producer in the business, BG East presents this entirely unique wrestling match that puts you in charge of plotting precisely what happens. Never before have you been given the opportunity to set the pace, direct the action, and craft a professional wrestling match made precisely to your specifications.

True, some elements of this match are outside of your control. For example, you have no control over the fact that Jonny Firestorm is looking hotter than ever! He’s lean, but not too lean. He’s hairy, but neatly trimmed. Jonny’s muscles are toned and pumped to perfection, and his blue, pro-style trunks are stuffed tantalizingly, requiring him to persistently have to adjust his eye-catching bulge from time to time.

You also can’t alter the fact that Jonny is facing handsome babyface Drake Marcos in his debut ring romp. Drake is long and lean and in the best shape of his life, which is a good thing considering he’s being initiated by the wrestler voted BG East’s Top Heel of 2012! Drake’s eagerness and unadulterated pleasure in the carnal delights of erotic wrestling have made him a favorite with fans and, just as importantly, earned him the most powerful patron a rookie can have, the Boss himself. What was the Boss thinking, tossing his eager young pet into what Jonny insightfully refers to as “the lions den” to tackle the biggest challenge of his young wrestling career? That’s a good question that Drake may want to ask his mentor, if there’s anything left once Jonny gets done with him.

“Poor sucker doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into,” Jonny mutters as he enters the ring, bouncing his pecs and adjusting his ample package. When the rookie arrives, Drake’s patented grin stretches ear to ear as he circles the ring, surveys the scene and soaks in this watershed moment in his wrestling career. He’s wearing designer undergear, a choice that instantly irks the brutal ring veteran who has little patience for boys in briefs. Drake has been picturing this moment for months. He has choreographed his first, confident climb over the top rope and into the ranks of BG East’s ring wrestlers. Over the top rope, however, wasn’t such a wise choice. Jonny kicks the rope as Drake straddles it, racking the rookie’s balls and sending the stunned stud tumbling in instant agony into “the lion’s den.”

“There’s a sucker born every minute,” Jonny smirks. “Is this how you pictured your ring debut going?!” he spits at the writhing rookie with contempt. The first 5 minutes of Drake’s drubbing are brutally and completely devastating. Chokes, stomps, trampling, suplexes, backbreakers. Drake is treated to an ass-whooping none can deliver quite like Jonny Firestorm. “Didn’t Leopard tell you who you were fighting today?” Jonny demands, prying Drake’s face upward by a fistful of hair. “No? Then you were set up! Jobber!”

– – – – – WHAT HAPPENS NEXT??? – – – – – THAT’S ENTIRELY UP TO YOU! – – – – –

What’s your poison? Or, more precisely, what’s Drake’s poison? Back destruction? Crotch abuse? Leg locks? Jonny is at your command, ready to unleash a demolishing onslaught of precisely what you’re looking for. Drake is one of the most absorbent punishment sponges on the planet, and he’s destined to soak up exactly what YOU decide should be coming his way. Over-the-knee backbreakers, crotch claws, knee drops or head bangers, the method and genre of Drake’s drubbing are at your beck and call. Your choice! Just click!

“Poor, fucking jobber,” Jonny mutters as he shoves his hand down his trunks again to adjust that notable bulge. Don’t be fooled, however. There isn’t a shred of mercy in Jonny, and once he’s done delivering precisely the back, crotch, or leg torture you ordered, he’s more than ready for you to decide what happens to Drake next. Do you have a taste for corner and rope abuse, neckbreakers, or headscissors? It’s your call, once again, but you can trust Jonny to serve up just what you’re ordering with his particular flare. For example, one way or another, Drake’s irksome undies are going to get ripped off, leaving him bare-assed, vulnerable in nothing but a jock strap. And whatever method of destruction you select, Jonny has a boatload of ego-crushing trash talk and humiliation to sweeten the pot.

Tossing Drake’s bashed body to the cement outside the ring, Jonny chuckles. “Better send this back to the Boss with a thank you card for this one!” Your custom combat is Jonny’s sincere pleasure, dishing out such precise doses of exactly the punishment you choose in, and outside, the ring. Drake teeters on the edge of terror, dragged time and again to the brink of unconsciousness. He pleads for mercy. He begs for reprieve. But there’s so much more in store for him! The only question is: what will you choose for him next?

No kidding, there are an astonishing 36 different potential matches all rolled up in this one unprecedented product. Well more than an hour and a half of action is contained within all of the potential variations and possible plot twists. Watch it again and again (and you will be at it for days) discovering new combinations of expert ring torture to subject poor, poor Drake Marcos to. Welcome to the 21st century, wrestling fans, because never before has a wrestling product allowed you to customize the action quite like this! It may be impossible to please all wrestling fans all the time, but when it comes to Custom Combat, you get to custom order the wrestling action that pleases you most!