Discover Top Posts Tagged with #brutalstrength

Now THAT'S #bodybuilding #powerlifting !! Please do try this at home. This man has clearly been training hard his whole life. #brutalstrength #rawpower #pectorals #benchpress (at America/Indiana/Indianapolis)

#bodybuilding #powerlifting #brutalstrength #benchpress #rawpower #pectorals

brutalstrength replied to your post:

|| Hey guys, just so you know I’m not...

Sweet soft angry gay.

#brutalstrength #|| i'll end you ||

"'Course I'm fair. That's why I'm giving you a choice. Either pick your beat-ass up and come on out of there, or I'm coming in. You won't like either outcome, but believe me--you'll like one less."

Taking one out of Dwight's book had perhaps been the worst decision of his life. Yes, evenworse than the decision to try and help what he'd assumed was an injured animal- which also turned out to be Dwight - which got him into this whole mess in the first place. Yes, this was most definitely apoor decision on his part and he regrets it immensely.

From inside of the cabinet he peers through the tinyslit of space between the hinged doors, eyeballing the section of bloodiedoveralls he can see.

His head tilts, neck rotating to take in his dark,cramped surroundings. Jake is fairly certain there's no room for the Trapperinside of the locker but he is curious as to how he thinks he would get inside.Either way he sure as hell wasn't willingly stepping out into the cold embraceof a wicked blade. He'd had enough of being cut down and assaulted for onelifetime. Seconds of silence drag out into what feels like minutes but isprobably still only seconds. A bead of sweat tracks down the nape of his neckand then soaks into the ruined material of his scarf.

Jake imagines he can hear the satisfaction of the Trapper upon realizing that Jake wasdeciding to make this as difficult as he possibly could. He holds his breath,watching as the splatter of blood at about eye level gets closer and closer and closer. When he's withinrange of the locker, Jake slams the door open and into his chest, bolting outand around him to flee in the direction of where he'd seen the hatch.

#brutalstrength #|| clearing out my inbox #or trying #eeessshh ||

@brutalstrength

For a load of the fully-grown male persuasion, the dead-weight known as Jake Park offers the trapper just about the same level of difficulty in dragging his sorry ass to a hook as the rest of his flock of flailing teammates–that is to say, none whatsoever. Not even a slightly strained grunt could be gleaned from the minor effort he exerts while collecting the crumpled carcass strewn between his shoes and the remnants of a wooden barrier dropped too late. Sure, the pallet’s primary colors had scuffed him quite a bit on the way down, but he’d consider the flaking paint chips embedded in his forearm is a fair trade for landing a crushing blow across the cocky saboteur’s skull.

So pleased is he with the exchange, in fact, he waits patiently behind the barricade for a few moments to catch his center of balance again, and to watch with dripping interest as his crippled prize of a pallet-camper slides across the dust saturated in his own fluids like a slug on a slow mission escaping a raised boot. Swiftly raising one of the rubber soles, he turns it on the wood and snaps it clean in half with a single stomp. Somehow, the splintering shards feel even better underfoot when the majority of the debris flies out from under his weight and scatters over the saboteur’s fleeing form as if even the shattered surroundings within the Entity’s realm all agreed on one unanimous fact: Jake Park needed to be buried and forgotten as soon as possible.

“So slow,” Which is exactly the opposite of how quickly he manages to hoist the man up by his parka and drop him onto a mound of muscle most suited for mowing miles between him and the nearest sacrificial station–hopefully with its hook still in tact. “–you sweet, soft, angry boy.” He adds, thoroughly tasting his taunt behind the widest of wicked grins. By now, he knew just how to dig under each of his victim’s pelts besides turning the barbs he brandished in his shoulder on their easily punctured flesh. His hide, however, is far from the level of softness required to host any hateful hickeys and if the saboteur thinks he’s going to be able to chew his way out of his unfortunate situation with teeth blunter than a butter knife’s edge, he has another thing coming, and it’s definitely that hook Trapper’s spotted across the foggy field. The trapper’s grip automatically gravitates to the row of back pockets pleated into his prey’s pants as he counters the irritating itch embedded in his throat with:ramming his knuckles against the saboteur’s rump. Nobody’s ass escaped his iron grasp.

“S'that all you got?” He sounds bored already. “Can’t tell if you’re fighting or fuckin’ me here.“

The machete had managed to clip him across his ribcage and down along the side of his torso. Blood oozed out of it slowly but steadily. It was a deep crimson that implied it wasn’t arterial – Jake was alarmed by how quickly he’d learned about what meant a quick death versus a slow one after being here for a few days(?). Gloved hands dig into the dirt and pull himself forward by clumps of it. The snap of wood brings back unpleasant memories and has Jake shivering violently. On his stomach he felt more vulnerable than when he was trussed up on a hook. It was an irritating precedent to have set by this behemoth of an asshole.

A growl – or what sounds remarkably like a growl emanates from his chest when the Trapper mocks him for his caramel slow speed. What might or might not have been a growl is most certainly one when the Trapper calls him a ‘sweet, soft, angry boy’ and Jake slams an elbow into the back of his neck. His foot kicks out towards his abdomen – or groin – he doesn’t care which and the motions repeat themselves. Priding himself upon his stoicism only went so far when it came to a killer that seemed so expertly woven at breaking through the thin veneer of apathy that Jake wore like a badge.

Which is why his next action can be attributed to the heat of the moment when his vision goes red at being called not only a boy but the – the – just thinking about it makes his blood boil. The fog clears when he realizes he has a mouthful of what might as well be bark and his tongue brushes against what has to be blood. Instinctively he bites down harder before letting go and his entire body jerks hard enough to nearly unsettle itself off of the Trapper’s shoulder. Sharp points of bone dig into his rear hard enough to leave a bruise and no amount of iron will can stop Jake from yelping in surprise. Both hands flatten themselves against the Trapper’s back and he gives a hard shove to try and throw himself forward and over his back.

It doesn’t work.

“Y O U wouldn’t be able to tell.” Jake hisses out as he goes remarkably still – able to resume his former position so he’s closer to the Trapper’s ear when he tacks on, “Never even kissed someone have you.” It’s not a question.

#brutalstrength #█ ▌:: {ensnared}#▒::[ all bite ]::▒#|| *stares directly into the camera* ||

[was told to kinkshame so imagine the most hardcore kinkshaming of kinkshames??????????] [was told to do this??????????] ????????????