Bareass Blogs No 66

 Bareassed at Break of Day

Looks like another one managed to get away

while he was sleeping.

Go to Bareass No 67 (link pending)

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For other mitchmen bareass blogs, click on the label at the foot of the post 

or start reading at Bareass No 1 and follow the links

Bareass Blogs No 65

 

Bareassed Bobby Dazzler

(with a cheeky smile!)

possibly a member of the Flat Cap Gang?

Go to Bareass No 66

~

For other mitchmen bareass blogs, click on the label at the foot of the post 

or start reading at Bareass No 1 and follow the links

Superhero by Deon

 

I rather like Felix D'Eon's eclectic range of artistic styles which encompass various, traditional, 'old-fashioned' techniques, sometimes imitating them for subjects they were never intended for. These two examples of his 'vintage comic' style are good examples in a mode from a bygone era, aimed then at younger people, but here featuring mature subjects and mature men (and he makes such a good job of showing that he understands their attractions you wonder why he bothers so much with fledglings).

The superhero here is El Oso, The Bear. Hence the paw on the front of his suit. I love the way D'Eon has subverted the clean cut (American) view of  such men with the very gay iconography of a romantic, chunky 'bear' finding his mate (I nearly said cub but that would be an inappropriate word after what I said above!). He's been whisked away from danger clad, appropriately enough, in just his very traditional, white Y-fronts which are betraying his own inner feelings. It's a splendid recognition that ordinary men are admirable and sexy too.

The drawing here doesn't have to be spot-on but the perspective treatment of the fleeing arsonist down below is pretty natty (and very much in accord with the chosen style). The trail of El Oso's flight however is less impressive, suggesting that the great man is flying sideways. Maybe he is, or maybe it's an imitation of the naivety in 1950's originals, but whichever the case I'm glad I'm not the only artist who draws himself into a corner sometimes!

In the Spanish dialogue here, 'chispas' is an expression of anger, "i mi plan ha sido arruinado por el oso" simply means "and my plan has been ruined by The Bear". The shrine to the virgin on the front lawn is another Spanish feature.

This picture picks up another typical genre paired with this comic style, the western. I don't think men in union suits with plunging necklines ever featured in those original cowboy comics. It's a mode of dress that always seems deliciously seedy and earthy, thanks partly to those realist cowboy films that depict them as underwear that is never taken off or washed. I like that this cowboy has donned his best boots and hat for his morning constitutional on the front porch. 

 (I confess I'm not exactly sure what a morning 'Joe' is, J/O?). 

More Deon at mitchmen blog

Royale Appeal

Royale Studio - Peter George, You are a footballer

 Can any of my readers identify the source of this Royale Studio image of Peter George dressed as a footballer in tight shorts? I'm sure I used to have it linked to a beefcake magazine from the 60's but have lost the attribution. He's facing a Hussar Guardsman in breeches, boots and spurs who I think is probably Tom Harding. Tom seems to be homing in on that bulge.

To reply just add a comment to the post below, thanks!

Browse the new Royale Gallery

(take advantage of the display options, top left)

Jungle Captives

Teracles - Jungle Man Captured

Two more images of capture in the tropics gleaned from the  BodyAdonis collection.

The first is by Teracles who is better known to me as the author of blood curdling, execution scenarios from way back in time. That historic focus largely accounts for his absence from the roster of artists here until now. This discovery suggests I ought to revisit his work because it's a very nice, all-male twist on the Ehrlik theme of heroes overwhelmed and helpless in the clutches of captors whose motivations are not known except to be feared.

The elbow restraint depicted is a simple but effective way of keeping the captive's hands out of the way. It also has the capacity to be quite uncomfortable if the pole is tight in the crook of the elbow. Visually, it works well here and although we can't see what his captor is doing to the 'Jungle Man' (punching him  I suspect) we can imagine all sorts of things going on. It's enough to know that he has virtually no chance of stopping it or protecting himself in whatever lies ahead.

The style of this picture, applying the appearance of water-colour painting to a photo-manip composition is probably software-driven, but pleasing nevertheless.

Tarzan Arrested

 This image looks like the work of  D Beverly who used to post on the old 'Chained Muscle' site and seems to specialise in depictions of improbably muscular, giants being captured and tormented by other residents of the jungle with poor manners but an understandable obsession with the charms of hunky men and an unquenchable enthusiasm for playing with them and making them howl.

Beverly's technique is unsophisticated but gets to the heart of the matter rather effectively. Those luscious pecs and what befalls them wins my vote. Another contender for a dedicated post soon.

Beached Hero

Arrested

 I found this image on Deviant Art at BodyAdonis but I don't think he's the artist. The narrative of a deliciously, muscular man falling into the hands of Amazonian beach-combers after apparently being washed ashore on the beach of a tropical paradise is very much the style of Ehrlik, but I haven't spotted this image at his Blades of Zambe site yet. 

The picture has a simple concept but it's a powerful 'hero in trouble' narrative. The impression of those spearheads being very sharp brings it alive. I for one am glad that the two captor's anatomical details are shrouded in deep shadow but that device also works on a more artistic level by throwing the focus onto the unconscious hero's impressive but vulnerable body.

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Mitchell - Army Buddies In Tentacle Trap

Mitchell - Tentacle Trap (after Kurosilver*)

Broadbent and Davies had been wandering in the jungle for days. Separated from the rest of their Platoon after the surprise attack on their camp, they had watched the other survivors being stripped of their uniforms and ferried away in lorries. At first they wanted to follow and rescue them but the trail soon went cold and without weapons there was little they could do. But if they made their way back to their own lines, they would have to explain how they had escaped capture and why they had been away from the camp together, without their weapons and dressed only in their jockstraps.

These worries receded as they became preoccupied with just finding food and a safe place at night. They marched during the day but it was hard, tiring and dangerous in the hot, humid jungle. Several times they had to hide from enemy patrols. At night, it was good to have each other.

On the 7th day - or was it the 8th? they came into a particularly lush part of the jungle. For once the humidity was low. Birds were singing, blue sky could be seen overhead and a scenic waterfall of cool water cascaded down allowing them to replenish their water supplies. They washed out their jocks and fell asleep by the water in the idyllic, sunny glade. 

It was late in the day when they were wakened by voices. Realising it was the enemy they fled into what looked like the deepest part of the jungle. The voices quickly faded behind them and they knew they were safe from them then, but in their haste they had left everything behind including their jocks. They couldn't go back and it would soon be dark, they had to find a place to sleep. 

As they toiled though the jungle, progress became more and more difficult with foliage draping over the trail and sometimes blocking it altogether. Undergrown caught at their ankles and brushed their thighs. A gloomy twilight began to descend and the jungle seemed to be closing in around them.

"Drat it!" Davies heard Broadbent exclaim behind him, "my ankle's caught in something again". Davies turned and saw his buddy crouching down to disentangle the offending growth. "God it's tough, this tendril could trap a small animal". Davies smiled at his discomfort but not for long. 

"Shit! It's alive!" Broadbent exclaimed, "it's crawling up my leg!" 

"It can't be" Davies scoffed, "it's just a plant".

"Well it's growing bloody quick then" Broadbent replied in alarm "it's twining round my knee now and  getting bigger, I swear it is".

"Let me see" said Davies impatiently but as he stepped towards his buddy he found his own foot was snagged on something too and trying to free himself found exactly the same thing was happening to him. In fact a fat tendril was already sliding between his thighs and encircling one. He tried to prise it away but it was too strong and when he tried to pull his leg out of it's grip he found he could not. Another tendril caught at his wrist, pulling it behind his back. 

He looked over at Broadbent and saw his arms were already immobilised and the tendrils were sliding and twining round his groin, inducing an erection despite his obvious fear. For some reason that excited Davies too and that sensation was heightened as he felt a slender tendril winding round his own balls. He felt it getting tighter and tighter lacing his own terror with sexual excitement. 

"It's pushing into my ass!" Broadbent shouted out in horror and Davies too felt one touching his ring, then pushing it open. It seemed to be coated with some slippery substance which made it's invasion irresistible. He felt it's smooth surface sliding in, getting bigger and bigger.

"What are we going to do?" Broadbent  was wailing.

But Davies had no answer for his buddy.

The tentacles were engulfing his torso.

The night noises of the jungle resounded around them

~

*I freely acknowledge that this picture is extensively based on an original by Kurosilver.

It's also part of my long standing unfinished tale of 'The Lost Patrol'

For more pictures by Mitchell click on the 'mitchpix' label below 

or visit the Gallery Tab at the top of the blog