Spotlight on Kevin von Erich

Kevin von Erich, born Kevin Ross Adkisson in 1957, is a retired American professional wrestler known for his use of the bodyscissors hold. He was a member of the famous von Erich family of wrestlers, who were known for their high-flying and technical wrestling style. Kevin von Erich was particularly famous for his scissors hold, which he used to great effect in his matches.

Kevin von Erich

Infatuated reflections

O, what sweet torment coils round my frame That I, in doting dream, do chase thy shade.

A breath, a glance, a half-remembered name, And all my soul in fevered rapture laid.

Desire, thou art a golden, thornéd bloom, That in thy scent I swoon and lose my way,

Yet every petal hides a silent doom, Each kiss a draught of night in light of day.

This philtered passion, more than love it seems— It wakes the mind to folly’s frantic jest,

Where reason drowns in perfumed, trembling dreams, And I, thy captive, know no nightly rest.

To gaze on thee—alas!—is not to hold, But burn in visions far too fierce to touch.

Infatuation is the fire grown bold, And I, consumed, do ever want too much.

Yet would I trade this aching bliss away? This sacred ache, this storm I learn to crave?

Nay, let me live where longing makes its stay— A willing thrall, and not a love’s brave knave.

A visual feast of Kevin von Erich

A visual feast of Kevin von Erich

Kevin

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The birth of a fetish

After two years of private practice and civil service locums I was feeling confident enough in my bedside manner to maintain a professional demeanor, and fast getting the hang of using my officers rank rather than my Professional Qualification to navigate the daily quagmire of illicit desire, and feeling confident that I could handle the salacious temptation of working in the Military. With all that said and done I must confess that nothing could have prepared me for the intoxicating melange of musky locker rooms and sweat-drenched wrestlers locked in a tangle of muscular limbs.

The allure of this environment was unlike anything I had experienced before. It was a visceral cocktail of adrenaline, competition, and raw physicality. The scent of sweat mixed with the unmistakable aroma of determination and perseverance filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was both thrilling and oddly enchanting. As I navigated through this world, I found myself drawn to the unique challenges it presented, and I was surprised by how seamlessly I adapted to the dynamics of this new setting.

In this realm of intense physicality and unwavering determination, I discovered a renewed sense of purpose. The juxtaposition of my medical background with the rugged, unforgiving nature of the military environment offered a sense of fulfillment unlike any I had previously known. It was a place where discipline and dedication intersected with raw passion, and I found myself captivated by the juxtaposition.

I soon realized that my initial confidence paled in comparison to the depth of experience and understanding I gained within this unique space. It wasn’t just about maintaining a professional demeanor; it was about embracing the intricate nuances of human nature and physicality in a way that transcended traditional medical settings. Each day brought new revelations and challenges, and with each triumph, I found myself further immersed in the intoxicating allure of this unconventional yet deeply rewarding path.

As I reflect on my journey, I am reminded of the remarkable transformation that took place within me. What initially seemed daunting and unfamiliar gradually became a source of profound inspiration and personal growth. The musky locker rooms and the captivating energy of the athletes became symbolic of the unyielding spirit and resilience that permeated every aspect of this unconventional but incredibly enriching experience.

Keeping a raging obsession in check is a full time job, and once my cock raises it’s throbbing head it tends to persist less I take it to task and wrangle it to emission. Why I believed I would keep my resolve and resist the temptation of getting up close and personal with the muscle bound sportsmen placed in care is anyone’s guess.

Joe Stecher’s Wrestling Career

Joe Stecher was a legendary wrestler who rose to fame during the early 20th century. He was known for his exceptional strength, technical ability, and dominant wrestling style that earned him several championships and accolades. In this essay, we will explore Joe Stecher’s wrestling career, including how and why he started wrestling, his three favorite holds, and examples of when and who he used them on.

Nick Jonas Double

Which Nick Jonas keyframe animation tickles your fancy?

Autoerotic Asphyxiation

Fetishes are stories masquerading as objects. (ad lib)

According to the Author: Rick Castro, ‘fetish is a exploration of sex as art’, and the refinement of one’s personal desires. Anything can be fetishised … There’ll be new fetishes forever. I feel that the 21st century is all about fetish. – Author: Rick Castro

Sociologists and Psychologists sees fetish as a subculture, as opposed to it’s diametrically Counterculture Far be it for me to critisize those in the know, as a lifelong fetishist my personal experience attest to the contrary, both in lieu of the assumption that Fetishes are considered as a form of sexual behavior, and the assumption that they are viewed as co seensocial   in this regard   learned  scholars

Fetishes are  practice of erotic asphyxiation, be it self induced or assisted is vested in the thrill of danger rather the eroticism implied by the nomenclature. In their persuit of blissful oblivion practitioners refute the lack of agency that we are all experiencing, and a respite from the madennig chaos of our daily discourse.

The dread of realizing that the life we live is moot and meaningless should be a powerful motivator for change. The opposite is true when our sense of agency is bound by divine decree, and our ability to act is subject to the terms and conditions we accede. Our will to act wither to fear, and our sense of presence is bound to fail under duress.

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Much like the shock and horror of realising the folly of our past is mounting, the lack of insight to realise the present intent in sense and mutual relevence is the rot at the root of our debility. In stead of blaming the loss of social cohesion and dissolution of family structures or loss of cultural identity on a cause, we are well advised to rise above our purview and look beyond our flailing conviction.

In our desperate attemptp to appease the deluded conventions of a corrupt and defunct societg we are oblivious to the folly of competition instead of cooperation, blinded to the sense and mutual relevance present, and robbed of our sense of agency by the allure of reward we are invariably vying for advantage, hoarding accolades to prove our worth and claim the provenance to avail our posterity.

We believe in believe in proprietary access as a means to stay ahead of the pact and yet we never question why we are enacting someone else’s ideals, or trying our best to keep head above water when living life well imply floating gently downstream, like in the well known childbood advice.

The eroticism of asphyxiation is an act in defiance od the prevailinpg proprietary social conventions, a means that refute the need for sense and sensibility. It induces anvexperience akin to the unfettered extacy we crave without the guilt of social bias, the risk of scorn, or the need for a partner. The urge to be oblivious of the present in stead of enjoying the rush of living life well is the bane of social values and cultural norms we bear less we realise that by hoarding human nature and tinkering with our evolutionary design is illogical, irrational and ill advised.

June 26

Homo Sapiens Sapiens

Retirement has granted me the serenity to know that despite my patchy, haphazard and hazy recollection, my life seems worthwhile beyond the folly of pleasure or the fervor of my fickle endeavor. I guess there comes a time in all of our lives that we ask if the life we lived was worth it. When all is counted and everything considered, was life worth living? I made myself promise to leave the world a better place if I make it out of my stridor alive, as you do if you find yourself knocking on death’s door. You bargain, and I promised to make it worth my effort to wheeze through my next breath.

I suffered from acute ideopathic hyperreactive bronchioli (aka Asthma) as a child, and I recently had the epiphany that I made good on a promise I made to myself. The revelation followed after early retirement forced me to take pause and make a sober and objective assessment of my hopes and dreams, and look at life from the ‘Grand Scheme of Things’. Confronted with the allusion of value and the meaning of loss made me realize how unreliable my memory has been for as long as I can remember, which wasn’t much.

As it turned out my initial shock and horror at finding my lack of detailed memory to account for my life’s work gave way to the epiphany of my promise. A promise kept by my realisation of present sense, the value of a presence shared intent, and the means we employ to entrain the flow of mutual relevance and revel in Nature’s cocreative confluence. Memories are irrelevant to living life well and aware. Minding evidence to the contrary is unnecessary, superfluous to the thrill of sharing the present intent, rreverent of the reason we believe and regardless of our gender, race, culture, creed or cast.

I only recently realised that oxygen depleted blood supply is no way to remember and the reason why my memory was patchy over the time I was asthmatic. Unlike most of my peers I had a sedentary upbringing, first by choice, later in lieu of my health handicap. Starting with high school I was happy to by myself, with no interpersonal skills, no interest in sports, and bullied incessantly over my unwitting gender disparity. It was more than a year before I found out why people shunned mee. After spending most of my teenage years with my nose buried in books, at first looking for a cause and later for a cure, and it wasn’t until I began my studies that I could fathom why my kind of love was a sin. In lieu of my self indighted exile I am socially awkward, friendless, maladjusted, absent minded and uperturbed by relationships in general. Given my highly unconventional and isolated upbringing I didn’t expect to find any redeeming qualities in my misspent youth, but in hindsight it turns out that everything is as it was and always will be connected in mutual relevance.

Since my retirement I’ve found that regardless of the chaos I’ve known throughout my life there is a pernicious, persistent, overtly obvious thread running through the gamut of my existence. A golden thread that I gave up on after my best friend incited a angry mob of my peers to assault me during the lunch break. Seeing the look of blind hate in the eyes of someone you love was unconscionable, traumatic and life changing, but since my life would never have turned out the way it has. The outcome rebuke any premise of harm and defy every conceivable reason for resentment, vengeance or retribution. Without the unforgettable experience I would never have lived my live as I did, may never have had my doubts in the existence of God, and God forbid may never have converted to Atheism, or make peace with my manifest ability and the means to live live well.

It amuses me how the notion of free will remains at the edge of our collective concern, yet never quite manages to escape the shackles of our proprietary conviction. Prior to me losing my religion I was resolute on earning my salvation, but alone and afraid that the sins of the people I cared for would amount to me ascending to Heaven all by myself. The little free time I had left after ‘doing the Good Lord’s work’ I preferred to keep by myself. Any fun to be had was suspect as pleasure was the playground of Satan, a fact that I kept reminding my pre school teachers and the toddlers I was forced to play with. In my fervor to enter the Pearly Gates of Heaven I regularly attended Sunday Services by myself, always stayed behind for Sunday School, sang in the Church Choir, and went on Christian Youth Camps over the holidays.

I was hell bent on spending eternity in Heaven, and subsequently remained steadfast in my belief until well past my assault by the Deacon’s son outside the church,m and denied confirmation of my faith in lieu of my alledged homosexuality.

Aquatic Arousal

I’ve had a love for water as long as I can remember, long before I became a fan of submission wrestling. As a young and budding voyeur I remember spending more time at the bottom of the pool than I did above water, and the thrill of darting between unsuspecting holiday goers legs.

I remember my fascination with the view of the surface from the bottom of the pool, and the exitement of skimming between the legs of holiday goers. No prizes for guessing why I’m a legman, or why I’m obsessed with their breathtaking embrace.

I was never invited to join a team or part of a peer group bonding ritual on account of my obvious but blissfully unwitting effeminate behaviour and chubby frame, not to mention my suffering from severe asthmatic attacks. Be it by free choice or fear of ridicule I never got the hang of the social airs and graces one needs to make friends, be social, or heaven forbid find a romantic companion. I was simply never bothered by being left alone with book and more than happy to spend time daydreamIng, a habit that easily adapted to serve my growing obeession for erotic fantasies that feature me wrapped and writhing in whoever’s thighs that arouse my interest.

I was a master at conjuring erotic fantasies. With my desire growing apace I was increasingly hiding from social contact. Fuelled by my fear of ridicule but feverish with illicit desire awash in the rush of delayed onset puberty I distanced myself from any temptations of the flesh and imagined myself locked in muscular thighs to wank off my lust and relieve my incessant desire, and kept my face buried in the texts of Greek philosophers, the Classic of Change, myths of ancient cultures and legends of far away nations, and losing myself reading every epic Sci Fi and Fantasy series I could find while I desperately searched for a remedy to cure my abberrent sexual arousal.

I remember how my hope kept dwindling at the lack of finding a clue or a hint that would affirm my unrequited desire, allay my insatiable capacity for arousal, or anything to cure my obsessive compulsive urge at the sight of a bare thigh, the view of bare feet crossing, quads flexing, knees or glutes clenching, anything to quell my insatiable desire to be wrapped in the breathtaking vice of muscular thighs.

Instead of finding myself a willing crush I spent most of my free time as a undergraduate student in the futile pursuit of finding a non condescending, non religious and trustworthy scientific opinion that would make sense of my increasingly hopeless condition.

Back then the only mention I could find of my favourite hold the bodyscissors was that it was a banned amateur wrestling hold, and the limited submission wrestling images available was limited to brutal pro or finding a rare news article about amateur wrestling meets, none of which rivaled the exitement of watching my straight peers fighting on the playground.

Untill the fateful day I happened to stumble into a IRC wrestling chat room. Besides being hard to find and even harder to access, they carried the risk of getting kicked out of the chat room or getting banned if you were seen as pesky, too cocky, aggressive or rude. Back then your connection to IRC was via dialup modems that had a tendency to drop in the thick of a encounter or after waiting an hour in the middle of downloading a single low dpi JPG. Finding media was a serious commitment that you had to plan for off peak hours, and even then the videos were so grainy that you were at the mercy of your imagination for most of the time.

I have yet to experience the pleasure of indulging my desire for a wet and wild romp with breathtaking muscle and vice, so If you’re willing and into kinky rough and tumble with seniors please submit your proposal for a playdate in the comments below.