Beneath the Posing Strap: The Internet is for Muscle Porn

On the screen, the blond man gazes down, his meaty fists on his hips. He's standing at his desk, captured by his PC webcam lens. The view is angled into a shallow corner of what is likely his own bedroom, which is, I think, somewhere in Pennsylvania. Behind him one sees a plain wall and a window with closed blue drapes. There's nothing else.

From the neck up, he looks like the president of the student council. His buttery hair is natural -- no peroxide for him -- and the wavy, natural cut recalls the ROTC styles of the late '60s. His eyes are clear, a deep bedroom brown. His unlined face probably hasn't changed much since his high school yearbook picture. He has thick sideburns, and he needs a shave. He's stripped to the waist, wearing loose workout pants. I'm guessing he's 33 or so.

From the neck down, there isn't anything high school about him. He's solidly packed with round, gym-built muscles, with powerful shoulders, a thick chest, and a fat-free belly rippled with sharp abs. He's smooth, hairless, and naturally tan.

He could be categorized as a Muscle Jock. Back in the day, he was the locker room bully who terrorized the members of the Chess Club.

He calls himself "Frank the Tank."

He bends to an off camera keyboard, and types clumsily. On my computer screen, the words emerge on the chat room window next to his image.

FTT: hey guys how u guys doing

No response. He types again.

FTT: how u guys doing today

A doorbell sound rings repeatedly as the chat room screen scrolls with eager return greetings:

Hard1500: HEY SEXY
IMYurs: LOOKIN GOOD
sportguy: UH HUNH
mikey: Your are one hot fuckin' stud
mrplaid: rock hard and ready to have a go
wrstlingfan01: thnk u for being the Tank

A shadow of a satisfied smile appears on the Tank's lips. He steps back, pauses dramatically for a moment, and then casually, as if he doesn't care, he slowly pulls at the drawstring of his pants. They slide down to reveal his rock-like thighs.

It's all part of his act.

He glances into the camera briefly, then down again. He flexes the left quad, inspects it closely, rotates it back and forth, and then casually shifts his weight to the other foot. He jiggles the muscles of his right leg, freezes it hard and slaps it. His face jerks back up; now he's sneering. He leans forwards and brings his fists together, hitting a crab shot, his muscles exploding with thick veins. He looks up, red-faced, and barks into the camera.

"You guys like what you see?"

The chat room screen scrolls again with silent screams of approval, the equivalent of applause.

He nods, still sneering, and steps back. He kicks the baggies away and steps back into the corner. Now he's wearing only a blue posing strap, which bulges with an impressive package.

"Then get your fucking butts over here, and start worshipping all this muscle."

I nod. Not bad, not bad at all. I glance over at my dinner guest, who is watching all this with me; he is also nodding.

If Frank the Tank can manage to get one of these guys into a private chat room, and keep it going for an hour, then at half of $4.95 per minute, his take home pay will be $148.50. For the hour.

Which is okay for a bedroom industry.

Exotic Muscle Dancer Rodney St. Cloud

I invited IFBB Pro bodybuilder Rodney St. Cloud over for dinner to watch the Tank's live webcam performance.

Rodney's a star. He's competed around the world as a pro bodybuilder. His last Mr. Olympia competition was in 2006. Five years later, he's still hugely muscled, having built his own physique over the years without all of the chemical enhancements to which other pros have generally turned. Though now officially retired from professional competitive bodybuilding, Rodney has maintained his size, and, more critically, his health.

Rodney occasionally makes live webcam appearances himself. A professional exotic performer since the mid-1990s, he has been steadily building his online muscle sex empire since 2005. He owns multiples websites, which include both www.rodneystcloud.com and www.strippersinthehood.com. He produces shows with impressive line-ups of male muscle models he's booked for the evening, shoots and edits his own videos, updates his own websites, and authors his own DVDs.

As a dancer, Rodney does a lot of bachelorette parties, and has been the surprise guest at events attended by the likes of Missy Elliot and L'il Kim. Rodney is gay-friendly, and on webcam is available to anyone who can afford the steep fees.

He's had brushes with notoriety that have crossed the blood-brain barrier of the sequestered world of bodybuilding into modest mainstream social consciousness. In 2005, Rodney, then a fireman with the NYFD, (and incidentally, the Mr. April of their 2004 Fireman Hunks Calendar), was arrested after his wife was pressured by police into signing for a package delivered to her workplace, ostensibly addressed to her husband, which allegedly contained $350,000 worth of steroids shipped from China. After much brouhaha, including television reports and excoriating articles in the New York Post and Daily News, the case was thrown out of court for lack of evidence by the unamused judge. Rodney was exonerated, which never got the airplay the original arrest received. Such is life.

A footnote for Rodney's legal problems: the notorious DVD cited by the NYFD during the brief trial of Rodney's simulated sex scene with a hapless blonde in peril, shot in cheap set in a low-rent Miami studio, was edited by none other than yours truly. It is one of my few claims to fame. In any case, we have been good friends ever since.

Rodney has other talents, sporting another thick, enormous muscle, which when pumped, hits 11". I've seen it: hell, I've captured it on videotape and edited it often enough. It's huge; when sitting relaxed and wearing the prerequisite bodybuilder sweat pants, he generally rests it on top of one of his thighs. It can be very distracting.

Modest by nature, when Rodney talks about his dick, it's as if he's talking about a classic Porsche he owns. "I didn't know the value before," he says.

He's currently bringing home just over six figures annually. He works hard for the money.

Rodney Reviews the Tank

Rodney and I sit before my computer screen, eating sushi and watching Frank on webcam. I have a bottle of beer, while Rodney, as always, has a 5-gallon plastic jug of water. He's wearing his headset, and is frequently interrupted throughout the evening by calls from clients trying to book him for personal appearances.

Onscreen, Frank is issuing stern directives. Occasionally a pair of hands appears from off right -- Frank's not working alone here tonight -- to squeeze a flexed biceps, or helpfully smear on some baby oil. Frank barely acknowledges his mystery guest.

We don't contribute to the chat, which is by now going wild, the window scrolling rapidly with pleas:

wrstlingfan01: Do you have a wrestling singlet?
IMYurs: SPREAD 'EM
mrplaid: Damn! Damn!
mikey: Can U Get Hard?
underdog54: can u put a finger in your hole?

This last request prompts Frank's ire.

"I can put my fist in your mouth, you bottom bitch." It's part of the act. Rodney laughs and nods approvingly. "Good, good," he murmurs. The fans love it.

underdog54: talk rough, baby!
mikey: O YEAH

Encouraged, Frank goes on. "It costs a lot of money to have a fucking stud like this in your house," he says, turning and pumping up an impressive lat spread. He arches his butt high, spanks his right cheek, and glances over his shoulder. "If you got a lot of money you can be my muscle bitch, but I don't come cheap."

Rodney approves of Frank's show.

"He's got the breathing going on. And he's using his mike, which is good, though it takes some time to type, and the sessions can go longer. His condition is good. He's pumped." The hands reappear, smoothing oil. "Who's that guy?" Rodney wonders.

Then Frank surprises us. He pulls the blue posing trunks down and kicks them off. He has a great cock, and it's big.

Rodney shakes his head. "He's giving it away," he says. This is still free chat, after all.

Frank boasts. "You have no idea of how much hard work goes into building a body like this." He flexes his biceps, and slowly walks toward the camera. His dick is now eye-level to us. He waggles it back and forth, and scoops his balls into his hands.

The chat window is scrolling now with eager requests. Rodney and I sit back: we've seen enough. After all, we've seen it all before, and I have been editing this stuff for nearly a decade.

I log off. Well? I ask.

"He's okay," Rodney says. "He's playing a character, and his condition is good. He's cool. He knows what he's doing. But he should have kept his trunks on a little longer."

Do you play a character?

Rodney smiles. "I don't need to." He takes a swig of water, and sits back.

The Muscle Marketplace before Webcam

Before webcam, few bodybuilders could ever hope for much of a payday.

Following the popularity of the coffee table book and subsequent documentary movie "Pumping Iron" in the late 1970s, bodybuilding branched into viable publishing, fashion, entertainment and supplement fiefdoms. From the start, the money was only at the top. Contracts for "supplements" and endorsements of clothing and gear were lucrative for the competitors who made it into the pro ranks, but it was all a crapshoot, dependent upon luck, timing, discipline, location, who one knew, and frankly, genetics.

As author Samuel Fussell detailed in his popular 1991 book, "Muscle: The Confessions of an Unlikely Bodybuilder," the top brass ran the whole show. The magazines on the newsstands didn't have to pay the competitors for their pictures. Moreover, the images and videos sold for the more popular contests were the property of the promoters. It was no wonder that a shadow world of bodybuilding merchandizing developed that often involved drugs and prostitution.

While a very few promoters were honest businessmen out to make a buck, most were corrupted by their power. The competitors suffered. Often the judging was unfair, based upon local or national favorites, determined by a private cadre deciding whose "turn" it was to win. Even so, the winners didn't take home much.

It was an increasingly expensive pastime that resulted in little economic gain.

In the 1990s, a few stunningly handsome musclemen, like Bob Paris, Frank Sepe, Mike O'Hearn, Gunter Schlierkamp, and, after 2003, the unbeatable Sagi Kalev, parlayed their physical beauty and marketing instincts into genuine careers. However, these men were rare, the movie stars of bodybuilding.

After all, bodybuilding has always been about turnover, and the next big guy.

I Remember Dave

In the 1960s, adolescent boys like me furtively bought magazines like Joe Weider's Muscle and Power and hid them away at home, frantically jerking off under the sheets at night to highly colored pictures of men like the platinum haired young behemoth, the "Blond Bomber" Dave Draper.

Draper was Arnold's inspiration. Back in the day, he was the bodybuilding megastar, even appearing in a few 'A' movies and on television. He was often photographed on mythically sunny California beaches with a surfboard, wearing the skimpiest of posing straps, with Weider's curvaceous, coquettish wife Betty undulating at his side. Those revealing posing straps were shocking, and irresistible. I could hardly wait for the each new issue.

The shy Draper was no Arnold. As the '60s went on, he couldn't take the limelight, and his star flamed out, plunging him into an alcoholic abyss. Alive and well today after his determined self-rescue, older and wiser Santa Cruz gym owner Draper recalled some years back in a revealing interview in GQ, appropriately entitled "Pumping Irony": "I have never surfed in my life."

The straight Draper may not have realized how much he indirectly inspired a nascent marketing force. It would seem there were thousands of boys just like me, all around the world. By the 1980s, we nervous boys had grown up, and we were still hungry. We wanted more than just pictures, and by now, we could afford it.

Muscle Marketing 101

When the first solo videographers tried to tap this potential market, most of the men and women competing in the sport either were repulsed by the idea of "private work," or were too intimidated by the disapproving promoters to make deals with them. Such moonlighting was a no-no.

Stars like Shawn Ray made a killing with popular cable workout shows, but these set-bound, G-rated, gee-whiz Jack LaLanne prototype productions only served to whet the appetite of the new fans. They were little more than low-cal appetizers for a banquet that was seemingly never to arrive. The fans wanted to see it all, one way or another.

Then bodybuilding history of sorts was made in the early 1990s. Jim French, aka "Rip Colt," the greatly talented founder of Colt Studios, famously booked bodybuilder Rusty Jeffers, under the nom de guerre "Carl Hardwick" for a series of best-selling nude solo photos and videos. While it didn't exactly help Jeffers competitive career, it didn't sideline it, either, and Jeffers even went on to professional status in 2004.

Later on, after the charismatic nova superstar IFBB Pro Tom Prince appeared butt naked before French's cameras, it appeared that the men in the back office who ran the sport didn't mind so much as long as Mr. Prince continued to make money for them.

Others were not so fortunate. When popular heavyweight champion Chris Duffy won his pro card in 1992, he immediately turned to the "dark side." Becoming the first crossover gay porn actor, he worked with his then-lover adult star Blue Blake in a couple of muscle-drenched, badly shot mini-epics, "The Wild Ones" and "Nothin' Nice" for Tom of Finland Studios. Blake, in his entertaining tell-all autobiography "Out of the Blue," writes that Duffy took to gay porn "like a duck to water." Duffy's fans were mostly outraged, however, and soon his careers in both bodybuilding and porn were played out.

Still, it was only the beginning.

The Virtual Muscle Start Up

Many top competitors tried to establish their own websites. Because of the steep learning curve, they were generally at the mercy of their developers and designers. Few had a clue of the importance of the domain name. A new kind of parasitic enterpriser had appeared: the guy who registered the names of each new pro for himself, and then offered to host their websites. Moreover, at the outset no one quite understood the necessity of regularly updated content. Most of the individual-man websites languished quickly.

However, over the years, a few quality muscle websites began to appear, and a few men in good condition began to receive modest fees for their video and images. Considering that the newsstands muscle mags had never paid their models before, this was already a quiet revolution in the making.

By 1998, a pleasantly determined, handsome and gracious former Versace model was beginning to produce independent soft-core VHS productions. They sold like wildfire.

Thirteen years later, and by now going by the name "Rich O." he is inarguably the leader of today's online muscle worship market. He has long since bested all the competition, such as the now lapsing website, Muscle Gods. His well-designed and regularly updated premiere website www.musclehunks.com presents vanilla-flavored adult muscle content. A decade after its online debut, thousands of video clips, and tens of thousands of images are available to members.

Rich O. is my boss.

As for the muscle models, the policy had unofficially evolved into "Don't Ask, Don't Tell." Fans were ecstatic, but the real payday was not far off.

Muscle Blogs, Muscle Affiliates, Webcam, and More

The next step, of course, was the presentation of real-time live private muscle shows.

The first muscle webcam sites were tentatively designed and plagued by ongoing software problems. Although the mainstream adult industry had long turned to webcam technology, the market was more lucrative for the big hetero companies. Adult male muscle fandom was still a modest gay male niche demand. Moreover, at the outset, the best competitors were dubious about participating.

The audience was determined, however, and quickly the hosting companies saw the return. The software improved, and as the word of easy money and confidentiality spread, more performers began to sign up.

Today, the undisputed alpha dog of this particular playground is the impressive www.LiveMuscleShow.com, with its lineup of more than 120 (and growing) worldwide models. The site is solely owned, of course, by Rich O.

For the true believers who couldn't afford the $4.95/minute fees for the real-time shows, there are ample online alternatives to receive a muscle fix. Dozens of blogs and quality sites, like the Australian www.mikesmusclemen.com, the catchall umbrella site www.musclepit.com, and more specialized www.jockbutt.com, are frequently updated beef corrals that watch the original content sites closely for models, or with respectful reviews, images, and video clips. Online affiliate marketing accounts for a hefty amount of the final net. Even in hard times, these sites can make money, if they are updated often enough.

Many of the men on these sites were originally discovered by the enterprising Rich O. I have met very few of them in person, even as I have edited thousands of hours of their most intimate moments.

In one or two cases, it's amusing for me to note that the performing names they have taken for themselves was originally made up by me.

In an interesting coupling of two niche markets, the popular fantasy wrestling www.thundersarena.com features men who both wrestle and compete. While the videos are amateurishly produced and poorly edited, Thunders Arena manages to produce regular video updates of big muscle guys brutishly battling one another. The more widely watched clips lean towards the domination of a bona fide heavyweight over a smaller, submissive opponent. The content is not explicitly adult, but the theme is all the same muscle S&M -- the locker room bully, once again.

The inevitable piracy of these videos, and their appearance on YouTube, only helps the market. Hardcore muscle fans don't care about which company is competing with whom: they want it all.

The New Rules of Engagement

Overall, it finally seemed that a practically minded competitor, if he didn't mind the seamier side of it all, had a few options to help supplement his training.

In 2011, for an increasing number of ambitious career bodybuilders, the physique competitions that bloomed in the years following WW II serve as marketing strategies for those determined to make their hardcore workouts and diets pay off financially. Ironically, though the U.S. bodybuilding shows themselves are now less attended, and the physiques lauded in the days of the Arnold are less fashionable, impressively developed bodybuilders are available more than ever before for millions of fans worldwide.

The reign of the bodybuilding promoter and publisher hegemony has seen its waning final days. Ironically, the competitors themselves are capable of taking home more money than ever before. Without question, the market brought forth a revolution.

The new muscle models are finding it obligatory to learn a new set of rules to maintain their ongoing self-promotion. More importantly, most of the muscle models today who have made names for themselves online have never stepped onto a competition stage, and yet share the limelight equally with those who have competed for years.

The wise muscle model has learned the necessity of adopting the public persona of Mr. Nice Guy, or at the very least, paying polite attention to his many fans. Notwithstanding Frank the Tank's locker room bully character in his live show, the subtext is about giving the public what they want. This means finding a balance between appeasing the muscle public while maintaining a respectable (i.e., safe) distance.

Until recently, ripped heavyweight "Troy Steel," a former Mr. Ohio, used an obviously fake name for his webcam, video and wrestling appearances. So do many of the men -- and no longer because they worry about the reactions of either the promoters or the competition judges they appear before. All that changed after Rusty Jeffers worked for Colt.

The fact is that desperate, pathetic, and occasionally dangerous stalkers have long plagued Steel. And he's not the only one who suffers from the attentions of unwanted admirers.

"Some of them are nice," says Troy. "They just want to know you and be near you. But then there are others who are really scary, who will fuck with your head if they can."

"They're like crack whores," St. Cloud says of the disappointed fans who troll the blogs. A few competitors have found out the hard way that it's critically important to be nice to their emboldened fans. One IFBB Pro was dismayed when a rejected fan faxed explicit video caps from his privately sold adult solo DVD to his father, a highly placed government official in Asia.

The irony is that the bodybuilder who first started training in order to grow bigger and more powerful may be plagued by the persistent attentions of an obsessed fan half his size. In view of that, the system is rigged to maintain confidentiality, allowing the bodybuilder to privately find and choose his best audience.

Web Etiquette

Troy prefers to make private webcam arrangements through the online feature of sending private e-mails to preferred customers through LiveMuscleShow before he goes online. That way, he is letting them know when he will be available. In effect, it's making a date.

He's mindful how he prepares the setting for his shows. "My bedroom is 20 feet long," he says, "and when I start the session, I'm sitting at my desk, shirtless, with the camera focused just below my nipples. When I really get going, I can get up and stand back and away from the camera, so they can see me." Behind him, he keeps the room clear.

Rodney agrees. His own webcam is necessarily in a smaller room, not his bedroom, which also happens to have his washer and dryer in it. "The camera is too close for a good view," he says. "It would be best if the camera was as high as the ceiling, and I could lay back on a bed."

After that, their strategies differ. Models have the advantage of seeing how much money their potential customers have in their online "bank." Troy often starts a conversation with a man who has no money posted.

"You have to be interactive with everybody," says Troy. "You need to engage with everybody in that room. And they'll ask you lots of questions. There are people who will never engage but are pleasant -- they'll ask you to stand up in free chat, which is generally a no-no. But occasionally I'll do it, and flex my quads. They'll yell "Jesus!" and run off and when they're back, they have money next to their names. And you have a new customer."

Rodney disagrees. "A bad client is someone with no money -- period."

There are other no-nos. Muscle models are expressly forbidden to make private personal arrangements to meet, nor are they allowed to promote themselves on other websites while performing online. They are required to appear on camera alone, although Frank's just-off-camera assistant seems to have bent the rules, if just a little.

The Internet is For Muscle Porn

Paraphrasing the first act showstopper from "Avenue Q," the Internet is for muscle porn. The tools are available for both the competitors and the fans to score what they need.

As Troy puts it, "The Internet has opened up a whole new revenue stream for bodybuilders."

To make it all work for him, Troy adds, "You assume a character. Bad guy, good guy, tough guy, super hero. You do role-play. Most of the time generally they want me to be Troy Steel. They're usually meek, looking up. They want you to be the alpha. They love cocky. They'll say things like, I want you to piss all over me, dominate me, humiliate me, and I want to smell your feet. That stuff."

"Then there's the circus part of it -- I call them circus poses -- I bounce the pecs, flex the abs, shake the quads. And they love it when I bend over and spread 'em. My money-maker is my butt."

And who are the best customers? Rodney has a definite opinion. "The best customers," he says, "are the ones with a lot of money who don't want you to cum."

Even so, it's like any job. To make it pay, the hours are long. The work can be lonely. The fans can become crazily demanding, troll the blogs with complaints, or upload bad reviews. Many competitors have learned to be choosy about when and how often they appear. "You make more money overall if you're not always online," says Troy.

Rodney's realistic about his current success. This fall, he enters nursing school. While he'll continue to produce his own muscle videos and make webcam appearances for now, he remains sanguine about the future.

"All this," he says philosophically, "has an expiration date."