TheDeathMachine

This video was made by myself and @SilverKazeNinja , for Valentines' Day of 2024. Sorry I took so long to post it here! If you're a fan of #muscularfemale or #musclegirls, you will absolutely LOVE this!

As tall and elegant as some of these women are, You dwarf even them in size and strength. My dear, you must have walked here from Jotunheim. What daughter from Midgard could have such beauty? May Huginn and Muninn roost near the windows. Let them tell the All-Father what I've to say! Fellow Nords, lend me every ear in this mead hall, And hear how love, the heavy axe, has struck my chest! Gerd, how are you searching for your twin sister here? No other woman in this hall shares your height and allure! My dear is tall and mighty enough to lock eyes with you in a brawl, One with her shapely and strong body she'll surely win! Farbauti, cruel striker, we all agree with your joyous tears. We share your pride in your pupil, this warrior of a woman! Her axe's blows are confused with your punches, And her arms could pull Jormungandr from the sea. Hrungnir, you brawler, your disgrace did not start with Thor. My love's massive arms wrestled your hefty stone body long ago. You meekly wept

If this great city is the City of Love, Then you are by far its greatest attraction. Not due to gaudy fashion or feminine grace, But the greatness and allure of France's heroes. You are the spitting image of Joan of Arc, A woman of tomboyish charm and manly virtue. It's this about you that makes me swoon. Catch me now, my sweet knightess! Short bangs and a cutely boyish face. They turn my cheeks more red than any rose. Your hair, face, and heart are in Joan's likeness; I'm sure she's smiling at you from the kingdom of Heaven. Toned arms that have the virile strength of Roland, And a body fit for a chivalrous hero. Your tears, I'm sure, are every bit as noble as his. I'd be there to wipe them away with only my best handkerchief. While you don't have his cheating and thieving heart, Your chest is as bold as Lancelot's and his men. Unafraid to wrestle boys or defend the weak, You stand tall among the women of Paris. If a fool calls me unmanly or a sodomite for loving you, Then

I spent the last few days working on an anime/manga muscle girl video with my friends @nightmarekid202 and @SilverKazeNinja for Valentines' Day. Aaaaand I realized I forgot to show you guys the YouTube video. If you like strong women, be sure to watch and even subscribe to my channel! @UltrawarriorX367 @KingOfFiction @kikichewi @GBMelendez23k @AlanMac95 @Patriot1776

I surrender and submit myself to your love. Giving my heart to you and your alluring strength. I beg you, pin me to the grass and put me under your covering. Pin me down and devour me with your affection. Your muscled arms are that of a bear, Lording over me with the fierce care of a mother. They offer me no mercy, no escape from your kisses. Even on the most tragic days, their hugs are my comfort. Your stomach is as mighty and hearty as the vikings, Whether it be hardened with abs, or stout and sturdy with fat. It deserves large meals prepared only by the best of cooks, And the greatest mead and wine from every corner of the earth. Your back is like the fearsome crocodile; Large and rugged, stealing the breath of all who see it. You even share its awesome grace in the water. My hands wander in search of your back, never to come home. Your shoulders are a pair of lions, Broad and strong for carrying the kill of a hunt, Fit for war; More alluring than the sweetest of

You, my dear, are the beauty of Midgard. Such an awesome body is unlike any I've seen. Powerful muscles that could beat a giant to death, Well-shielded by a lovely layer of fat. Heavenly and husky, stocky and stunning. Bears look upon your physique with jealousy. Mesmerizing and mighty, powerful and plump. I believe that Thor has found his match in his daughter. If Thor eats his two goats for a meal, Then your meal consists of twenty! Should Thor drink three barrels of mead, You'd outdo him with thirty-three barrels! Your lovely arms are a gift from Valhalla. Strong and soft enough to cuddle Jörmungandr himself. He says you've given him the best nap he's had in centuries. They deserve to hold a weapon equal to Mjolnir. Freya grits her teeth with envy at your legs and arse, Both so thick and large that not even Fenrir can swallow them! In the heat of Ragnarök, even the berserkers will cease Their fighting to stare at your pillars of brawny beauty. Let me not forget that soft

Be it Your will, then let Your wardog and I be wed. Her body is as strong as her faith, as great as their duty to You. More than six feet above the ground, she sees eye to eye with her tallest men. Samson wonders from Heaven if she is his daughter. She is the LORD'S Wardog, the wolf of the Lamb. Leading her cubs into crusades and war for His glory. Praying with large hands that wield a sword and shield, Hands that guarded the weak and fed the poor. Carrying the anger of Moses and David's justice to war, She and her cubs tore to shreds the viking heathens, Who raided the churches and the houses of God. They paid for their stolen goods with their blood. The LORD'S Wardog and her cubs on the prowl again, Engaged the Muslim horde to reclaim Jerusalem. Many of His hounds died by the sword in His name. Their heads now being petted by Him on His white throne. Emasculating grown men on the field of battle, She has wrestled with and killed many of His enemies. The LORD'S Wardog has

Hitokiri, my true love. Their damnation, my salvation. Another moonlit night, another mission. The ideal woman is a strong one; I know this to be true. So will my rival clan once you embark tonight. Hitokiri, your cold blood. It makes the yuki-onna jealous. Lips that share the taste of blood with your weapons. A willingness to fight, and to kill your prey and enemies. These things are your charm, and your greatest appeal. Hitokiri, your smile. The doorway to hell. The last thing they'll see before they plummet into it. Tongues skewered, stomachs hollowed, limbs and heads divorced from the body. You are an oni, for no man could show such bold savagery. Hitokiri, the flowers. Stained red and watered. Amaterasu and her fellow gods smile on your work. Dozens slain by your katana; More left without eyes, hands, or loins. You did not grant them mercy, nor will I you on our wedding night. Hitokiri, the slaughter. My rival clan will never forget it. You gave my own clan a victory