So here's the scenario: a long, lanky runway model climbs into a pro wrestling ring with a shorter, muscle bound fitness model, determined to put the "little guy" in his place. Regular readers of my work in the fictional homoerotic wrestling universe of the Producer's Ring will recognize this story line instantly. But wait... I didn't write this story! This is a live action, high definition, sweat and muscle throw down brought to you by the franchise that specializes exclusively (for the most part) in fantasy men: Rock Hard Wrestling.
New RHW wrestlers Jake Jenkins and Cliff Johnson star in RHW's newest release. Jake is the 5'7", 155 pound fitness model. Cliff is the 6'1", 175 pound runway model. Staring one another down in the middle of the ring, these two instantly tweak one of my "guilty" wrestling kink pleasures: short v tall.
I don't know exactly what it is that makes a short v tall wrestling match so intensely erotic for me. There's of course something inherently sexy about one man dominating over another, and a notable size differential adds to the available repertoire of domination holds, lifts, and blows that more closely matched opponents might not be able to pull off. But by no means am I just a fan of the big guy tossing around the little guy (though that can be awfully satisfying). My kink also kicks into high gear at the sight of a smaller opponent beating the living shit out of the bigger guy. Perhaps it's the nod to a bullied-revenge plot that speaks to my inner, insecure gay adolescent. Since I'm not exactly the tallest kid in the class myself, maybe I'm just superimposing myself, empowered and dominant, onto the tight "little" package of Jake Jenkins. Perhaps Jake becomes my avatar, working out all the aggression and righteous indignation I've felt over the years when bigger guys stare down at me with a smirk of condescension.
In any case, here's what I see: Jake and Cliff execute nicely, in fact better than your average RHW match, I'd say. In the actual delivery of kicks, stomps and punches (which RHW matches consistently seem to fixate on), Jake and Cliff both sell with convincing flair and timing. Cliff is determined to not undersell his suffering when Jake has been on a roll, and I, for one, applaud that. I'm okay with the miraculous recovery under most circumstances, but I like the pathos of a wrestler fighting with the aches and pains of a vicious attack in order to battle his way back on top, despite himself. Cliff looks like he really struggles to overcome not only Jake, but his own physical tolerances for pain and exhaustion. Love that.
I don't know where Jake or Cliff are coming from, but I'm guessing Jake has some amateur wrestling experience on his CV, and that Cliff does not. Jake sets the terms of this match instantly by going for a pinfall. Fall one, indeed, eventually goes to Jake for wrapping the long, long body of his opponent up into an ass-splayed small package. It's a hold like this that makes me long to be ringside, with my champ, Jake, holding Cliff immobilized and humiliated, for me to slide into the ring and more closely examine, in tactile detail, the humiliated physique of the vulnerable hunk. I think there's a market there, for not just the loser-gets-fucked by the winner scenarios (done delightfully and often), but perhaps a loser-gets-fucked by the winner's manager, patron, second, or partner. You tag 'em, Jake, and I'll bag 'em.
What makes me think that Cliff doesn't have the amateur cred that Jake does is his second fall win with an odd pin that, while immobilizing Jake to his back, leaves the fitness model's shoulders nowhere near making contact with the mat. It's one too many "pins" for my taste anyway. Bring on the submission torture, boys! Speaking of which, I'm liking the corner abuse both boys inflict in turn, in a tit-for-tat exchange with legs "trapped" over the top ropes and the victims hanging helplessly upside down for bashing. Cliff takes the lead first, stomping and punching Jake's rippled abs, taunting him nicely. Jake follows up, with a significant assist from Cliff to get into position (size differential is requires some stagecraft on a few counts... no harm, no foul, I'd say). Jake lands two hot drop kicks into the runway model's abs, without a ton of momentum, but hot, nevertheless.
The third and decisive fall is a figure-4 leglock submission following up a completely gratuitous stomp to the runway model's balls. Now there's the glimpse of greatness I hope for from RHW! There are no refs. They sell a full contact, NHB sort of story. So there's absolutely no credible reason that we aren't seeing more ball bashing. There's just no excuse for failing to see more long, torturous holds with the catcher screaming in agony and the pitcher taunting, delighting, soaking in the sight of his domination. Cliff taps way too quickly in the figure-4, and Jake releases the hold similarly too fast to make this entirely kink-satisfying. And the pecs on Jake are screaming for some laughing pec claws threatening to rip the fitness boy to shreds. Cliff's comparatively soft core should provide a legally binding requirement for Jake, the fitness model, to claw, stretch, pummel and knead the runway model's abs like a loaf of bread dough.
As is so often the case with my reviews for RHW, I say again, there's a lot that's going right here. The gay wrestling kink audience (surely 99.9% of RHW revenues) should find plenty to entertain us. But the personalities need to be about 15 times bigger, the holds held about 3 times longer, the gear either about half the size, or stripped out of the square cuts partway through to much less/nothing, and the physiological bases of homoerotic wrestling abuse (pec/nipple abuse, cock & ball bashing, holds that not only dominate (lingeringly) but display these impressive physiques like serving up a platter of steaks) need to be covered with their audience in mind. I know, it's easy to be Barcalounger Quarterback. I don't want to suggest that I wouldn't snap up another Jake Jenkins match (please, I beg of you, against Travis Storm), in a heartbeat. But I'm still waiting to throw that coming of age party for RHW that Joe and I have been longing to celebrate.