Monday, July 7, 2008

I (HEART) Asian Men!

Of the five guys I dated in college, two of them were Asian. They're something about their exotic looks, midnight-black hair and gold skin that drives me crazy. They absolutely look great with muscles. Take for instance, personal trainer Stan McQuay, who is like the ultimate surfer stud, the kind of beach god you have a crush on over a whole summer. He's got great glistening gold skin, sexy tattoos, a flawlessly cut, brawny bod. His very hot, well groomed and pointed beard kind of makes him look like a sexy version of Dr. Fu Manchu.

What a Beast!







And we've also got old school physique favorite, former 1970s Mr. Japan title holder Ken-Ichi Suemitsu, who looks as glorious and godlike as an Ancient Greek statue. This was back in the day when bodybuilding emphasized proportions and sheer beauty over raw size. Absolutely magnificent looking man, with the best abs and narrow core I've seen this side of Gordon Scott.



Unlike Asian men, I've never dated any Asian women yet...but if I did, I'd be sure to save a little for Polynesian/Chinese fitness queen and exotic dancer Sasha Ogata, who's got me white-hot with lezzie lust.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Little Big Men



I write muscle growth fiction, where I sexually admire muscular, handsome men with perfect bodies. Being a female writer sexually objectifying men the way men usually do so for women (I thoroughly enjoy the reversal and the power, by the way), I find myself asking a disturbing question: am I contributing to unrealistic standards and bad body image among men?

Well, let me explain one thing: as a former functional anorexic, I don’t believe bad body image comes from the media the way a lot of other people claim. It doesn’t come from outside, but from an internal chemistry, a combination of self-hatred and perfectionism, a desire to have control over your life. Obsessive perfectionism and self-loathing go hand-in-hand. Every single anorexic I ever knew had a 4.0 GPA.

Problems with body image don’t come from the media or from magazines. In my case, it’s about my relationship with my Mother. I grew up very chubby, and I was constantly belittled by my Mother for that reason (among others), a woman who had real problems expressing love or approval. I was made to feel worthless, and that nothing I did was good enough. Also, I was judged a “gifted” student by testing, so essentially I could never, ever come home with a “B.” According to Mom, B’s were for average, little people…which I was not.

In other words, I was trapped in a situation where being valued highly led to belittling my own achievements and good qualities.



It goes without saying how all this is connected to body image. No matter how good your thighs are, they’re not good enough. You internalize feelings of not being “good enough.” Your stomach is always, always chubby no matter how much you do, no matter how much any reasonable person thinks it looks fine. And your self-esteem is so fragile: anytime somebody said my butt looked chubby, I didn’t eat anything for three days.

So, it comes as no surprise I was a functional anorexic all through high school. To this day, I still take most of what I get in a restaurant home, and I never order desserts. Even lattes make me feel bloated.

How does all of this relate to muscle growth fiction?



Well, I’ve noticed in a lot of these stories there’s an excess, a feeling that you’re never “big enough.” Even in muscle growth art, I’ve learned to always stop reading a muscle growth comic two or three panels before the end, because that’s when they’re the brawniest and sexiest. Yet inevitably, the growth comic continues to a point that even someone with a tooth for beefcake - to say nothing of a normal person! - would consider to be grotesque or excessive. And believe me, it takes a LOT for me to say that, too, because I like men BIG!

When I write stories and post them on sites exclusively related to MG, the response I often get is “whoa, make him bigger!” To which I say, “Look, I made him 6’8” and 350 pounds. THERE IS NO “BIGGER.”

That's where my concern about adding to bad body image comes into play. Have I created a sense that "big" isn't "big enough?"

Immobilization is something I especially find disturbing. I probably sound hypocritical criticizing any fetish, because of how sexually dysfunctional and omnivorous I am. As George Burns once said, there are two things you can never argue with: what people find funny and what people find sexy. My purpose isn’t to point and say “ewww!” but rather, to call into question a few assumptions these fetishes work under.





At first, I thought immobilization was a turn-on closely related to being handcuffed, where the pleasure fantasy comes from a loss of control. If that were true, there’d be a lot more scenes in immobilization stories like from cheesy romance novels, where the hunky Pirate King captures a beautiful girl and says something like, “Ha ha, you’re my prisoner to have my way with…!” Instead, there’s a feeling of pushing the body beyond any reasonable dimension, where it’s no longer usable.

This relates to a website I’ve visited, called epiclust.com. For those not in the know, epiclust is a big penis story site. EpicLust has the distinction of being the first place I posted that wasn’t under a man’s pen name, incidentally. At first I thought epiclust was a website related to my fetish: muscle growth, only with a lot more of an emphasis on stories with male/female content. Actually, it’s more on big dicks.

I know what you’re thinking: “heh, sounds like your kinda place, Cristina.”

It’s true: I’m a size queen. I love well-endowed, ox-huge virile men. I don’t want to disappoint any of my fans that imagine me as some super-voracious cock-crazed queen, but really…if I was to make a list of the most important things in a man, a big dick wouldn’t even make the top ten. Wouldn’t even make the top fifteen. It’s nice to have, but it’s way, way behind other and far sexier characteristics.

Which is why I find epiclust bizarre. The sort of penises they fantasize about having are too large to possibly have sex with any normal earthling woman, and in fact many protagonists of the stories there are frustrated for this VERY reason. In other words, the stories aren’t about sex as such, or even fantasies about being more sexually competent.

Penis size, to men, represents masculinity and value as a man. That’s why they call it a “manhood.” That’s what leads me to believe the writers on epiclust have serious issues on a par with anorexia or bigorexia: feelings of worthlessness or anxiety about being a man.

Everything about epiclust indicates a readership that is so sex-starved that the act of sex itself becomes mythologized, almost unreal. It doesn’t matter if a dick is four feet long and thus, less likely to be pleasure-giving and more like a brutal killing weapon Vikings fight with. There’s an emphasis also on elements of sex that anyone that actually HAS sex is downright terrified of: pregnancy, for instance. Like the Bigorexia of musclegrowth sites, their fixations are pushed into transparently psychological dimensions related to self-loathing.

I will admit, there’s something kind of sexy about incest, a common epiclust theme. That’s not how it comes off on epiclust, though: it comes off as an anxiety about women. Women related to men are “safe” and nonthreatening.

Finally, I have to say a few words about the Furry phenomenon.


Psychologically, furries are an interesting and fascinating case, and if I decide to get my Master’s in Psych after I finish my MLS, I think I’d study them more in depth.

Here’s the behaviorism/Pavlovian explanation for how fetishes form. Let’s say you’re sexually aroused by something, for instance, a hot guy holding something incidental to the arousal, like (for the sake of the example) a rubber duckie. Later on, when you remember the arousal you received from the image, there’s an association made between getting turned on, and the incidental feature of the image (in this case, the rubber duckie). Enough of this happens, you might get a fetish for guys holding rubber duckies.

My mentor in the psychology department as an undergrad had actually studied and written on the furry phenomenon, and would have written a book on the subject if she hadn’t put it on hold due to cancer. Essentially, she studied furries, and found that it was different from other sexual fetishes, and didn’t form the usual way.

She found several interesting commonalities among male furries. Essentially, all of them had a similar profile: they usually had an absent father figure, suffered from social awkwardness caused by anxiety. “Furry” is less a fetish, more a “safety room” created to ease anxiety. That’s why furries comically overreact to any criticism: it’s an invasion, an intrusion into their “safety area.”

Men who are chubby chasers or who like female bodybuilders sometimes overreact this way. Their overreaction takes the form of dislike for society’s “standards of beauty.” It’s ESPN’s fault for not showing the Ms. Olympia, because of the unrealistic standards of beauty in our culture! Absolutely there’s some truth to the idea our media standards are airbrushed to an insane degree, but still…we have to be honest here. Female bodybuilders are weird looking (not a bad thing, I’d love to be one and freak people out), and reactions of disgust or bizarre fascination are to be expected, and are not offensive. Anyone who likes female bodybuilders and fat women are weird (which is not necessarily a bad thing). Please stop being sanctimonious, stop saying “everybody else” has the problem, and please have a sense of humor and laugh off any criticism.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Romance Novels

Hey, wait a minute! On the clench-cover of that bodice ripper, is that...




Why, it is!

Mike O'Hearn himself!

Sure, the clench-cover has gone out of style a decade ago, but you can always count on chiseled, brawny Mike to star in MY fantasies.



What I find interesting about romance novel cover boys is, I wouldn't really want to have a good old-fashoined groupie shag with THEM, but with their characters. It's like they use their bodies to stand in for more interesting, dangerous, romantic male figures.

I suppose, for my male readers, the best thing I could translate this to is how, after BASIC INSTINCT, men fantasized not about the "real" Sharon Stone, but the image of Sharon Stone. That, and even I can tell Sharon Stone could probably suck the chrome off a bumper.

Another amusing/frustrating element of romance novels is how, if a romance book is any good, it's never called a romance novel. Jane Austen is never called a "romance" writer, despite the fact her work is the single most influential material for the modern romance novel.


Likewise, take a work like Zora Neal Hurston's THEIR EYES WERE WATCHING GOD, unquestionably a part of the western tradition along with ETHAN FROME and others. Nobody calls it a "romance novel" because it's considered a classic. But it is: a woman's search for love and personal authenticity ends with a sinister, slightly aggressive giggolo that she "tames."

Of course, Janie and Tea Cake's relationship wasn't perfect (he often beat her because he felt he wasn't good enough for her, a detail left out of the film version), but it was, undoubtedly, a romance plot with a histrionically tragic ending. What I find interesting is, because of the nuance and complexity of the Janie/Tea Cake relationship, and the fact it wasn't idealized, disqualifies it from being labeled a "romance novel."

This irritates me, because I hate the hyper-idealized relationships in romance novels...the only ones I enjoy are ones that have nuance and quirks and unexpected twists, as well as elements from other genres (detective, horror, action, thriller) that make their categorization unclear.

Incidentally, the movie starred the very beautiful piece of man candy, the naturally blue-eyed stud Michael Ealy, quite easily one of the best-looking men in Hollywood. How he got those blue eyes I'll never know, but they smoulder and make a grown woman melt like butter on a skillet with a gaze.

Supposedly, he also likes older women, so good news for all you cougars!


(Scene from the movie...or clench cover?)

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Diana Ross tells it like it is

Yet another "woman that loves muscle guys." You go, homegirl!

And her video has some primo beefcake. Ahhh, see, that's the high life for me. If I ever get insanely rich, I'd have a harem of beautiful muscle boys to fan me with palm fronds and bring me drinks with umbrellas in them.

This was neither the first nor the worst song that's clearly about masturbation, but never has anyone sang with such panache about What Every Little Girl Does.

Pre-Sound Muscle Stud Movies

Imagine this. It's 1894, and you're Thomas Edison. You've just invented a new technology, the kinetiscope, and you've captured motion. What's the first thing you're going to film?

Why, a muscle guy, of course!

And not just any: the strongest man in the world, Eugene Sandow.

Here's a 1894 film of Sandow:



Here's a clip of the winners of the first Bodybuilding Competition ever held in 1904, featuring the most perfectly developed man and woman:



And then you have the first great muscular movie star in history, long before Steve Reeves and Arnold: Bartolomeo Pagano. According to legend, Pagano was a Milanese stevedore that director Pastrone saw when walking by, and on the spot, hired him for his movie.


The movie was 1914's CABIRIA, one of the most influential and important movies in film history. Martin Scorcese has written a lot about it; supposedly, many of the innovations we credit to D.W. Griffith were actually developed by Pastrone a great many years before.


Bartolomeo Pagano, as the muscular black slave Maciste, was nothing short of the star of the show, interestingly enough, the first and last muscleman to be a good actor.

Watch CABIRIA!


Part 1:



Part 2:



Part 3:



Bartolomeo Pagano's awesome biceps, dominatingly huge height, and cut physique let him muscle his way into the Italian film industry, where he did nothing less than 25 spin-offs featuring the superstud slave Maciste.

The most famous of these was 1925's MACISTE IN HELL, which supposedly is the movie that made Federico Fellini want to be a director. Even today, it's one of the weirdest movies I've ever seen, a film made of awesome, as wild and epic as the Shaw Brothers' INFRA-MAN. Maciste punches and pummels his way out from Dante's Inferno. I guess even Satan is no match for pecs of steel. It has these brilliantly bizarre intertitle cards with lines like "The Dragon - Hell's Aeroplane" and "You fool, you blasphemed, and now you are in my power!"



The Archive doesn't allow direct linking, but here, have a look at MACISTE IN HELL.

While in Hell, all the lustful she-demons want a little of Maciste because of his splendid physique!

Internet Archive: Maciste in Hell

Ulisses Jr., the Lion of Africa


I know, I know, I already blogged about Ulisses Jr., but...my God, look at him! I have to catch my breath, seriously.

He's hung like a rhinoceros, great skin, he's sex on two (three!) legs, a muscle stud fantasy brought to life, Adonis and Hercules in one person, with his long, virile hair, his exotic accent, sexy thick lips, jaw-dropping abs and shapely, sinuous strength.


I once heard it argued that every truly sexy person is known because they combine opposites together in one person. Ulisses Jr. certainly is that: he is, on the one hand, a very godlike, dignified, regal person, sheer dignity, but on the other hand, he's got the heat, a bump n' grind like a male stripper. Have a look:



Takes a lot to make me gush fangirl these days, but wow. If Ulisses Jr. had a harem, you'd better believe I'd join it.

Attention all muscular superstuds:


If you're mesomorphic, above 6', and an easygainer, consider sperm donation, as according to the Daily Show, there's currently something of a crisis of sperm donors. Be sure to mention your height and muscular development and athletic ability. In fact, if you're under 5'10", most sperm banks won't even accept your sperm.

C'mon, guys, nature needs a little push here. Don't you WANT a sexier, brawnier human race?

There's currently at least 14 kids that all came from the same German bodybuilder/track star/violinist.

I've often wondered if there are any celebrity sperm donors somewhere. If Steve Reeves or Denzel's should come on the market, sign me up!