Ragdoll Roleplay

I figured out at a pretty young age that pro wrestlers were just acting hurt and allowing their opponents to throw them around or put them in holds. I mean, clearly Steve Travis (in the above clip) could do more to protect himself. He could show some backbone and resist having his face driven into the corner. He could simply collapse rather than running obediently across the ring to bash himself against the far turnbuckles.

And who would believe that Eddie Gilbert (in the below image) has been rendered so tired and weak that he can’t raise his arms to protect his face?? Or simply reach up and punch the attacker in the nuts? His utter exhaustion is rather implausible (yet very arousing and fun to watch!)

And rather than feel duped or cheated when I realized that the wrestlers are mostly acting out their pain, I actually felt even more turned on. There’s something very kinky and taboo about roleplay by grown men, about a man willingly putting himself in a submissive and helpless role. When I’d see some jobber over-selling his agony, I never thought: “HEY, that looks too FAKE!” Instead, I would think: “Hey, that’s HOT AF!”

Where I come from, men are supposed to be strong and assertive, physically aggressive and impervious to pain. I was taught that men should want to win every battle and stay in control.

But my beloved world of pro wrestling introduced me to an alternative form of masculinity: a powerful male who is willing to display weakness and submissiveness, to let another man own and dominate him. Whoa, that’s hot. And they’d willingly portray the Weak Bitch right on television, for my viewing pleasure. As a horny young rasslin fan, this was about the sexiest scenario I could’ve ever imagined!

When I was a young kid, my friends and I would act out scenes from our favorite television shows, the usual hyper-masculine hero scenarios foisted on us by the patriarchy: Cops arresting Robbers, Batman captured by the Joker, Tarzan tied to a post. Sometimes one of my friends, playing the trapped hero, would roleplay his pain, grunting or begging for mercy if I lightly pressed a fist into his gut for example.

That always did something to my brain (especially if my little friend was cute and/or blond.) For him to lock his hands behind his back as if cuffed and, following my gentle knee to his beltline, give me an: “OOF! Please stop torturing me.” Wow, heaven on earth! It seemed so giving and charming of him to play jobber for me, to feed my twisted fantasies. (Soon I’d be asking if he wanted to sleep over so we could keep playing.) Maybe this roleplay and the feelings it spurned in me at a young age resulted in my affinity for obvious displays of fake suffering and over-selling in pro wrestling.

Also where I come from, men don’t lay on the floor. The floor is meant for children to play on. Adult men sit up on chairs or recline in big La-Z-Boys that nobody else is allowed to sit in (like a throne).

So when I saw grown men flat on the canvas, either on their bellies or their backs, it just seemed kinky and taboo and endlessly enticing to me. It seemed to me they were lowering themselves, degrading themselves, emasculating themselves, groveling like slaves as if to say “Look how weak and helpless I am.” I may feel pity or disgust or compassion for their plight, but invariably, I’d find myself pitching a tent in my jeans due to these gratuitous displays of weakness and submission.

Certainly the wrestle-porn companies are aware of the erotic appeal of male helplessness and submission. Most of the matches one can download or stream from the Underground sites are One-Sided Jobber Squashes. They are able to take it up a notch, really emphasizing the power imbalance between the wrestlers.

A few months ago for example, UCW posted a hot video they called “Jobbers Wear Pink.” Apparently, Eli made the mistake of wearing pink trunks, which are like his kryptonite. He quickly devolves into Ragdoll mode and Axel (in proper black gear) utterly decimates him.

Here is how my fellow blogger, Ringside at Skull Island, described the weakening effects of those pink panties: “Eli Black’s pink trunks appear to zap the last drop of testosterone from the man. Not only does Axel dominate Eli for most of Match 722, he virtually destroys him…”

And check out Derek Bolt (below) allowing his smaller, weaker opponent to tangle him up and even kiss his face. This match is from Muscleboy Wrestling, Catalog #18. You’ve got one arm free, Big Guy! Use it! Do you enjoy it when another guy dominates you or something??