Disclaimer: This story was inspired by and follows on directly from Ibendsteel’s Lattimer series. I don’t know how the original author intended for the story to evolve, and don’t wish to claim his creation as my own, so please think of this as a fan-fiction. This first ‘alternate’ chapter goes backwards to look at Lat’s childhood and fill in some details. You might want to remind yourself of Ibendsteel’s original chapters before reading to grasp the context. This story is perverted, gruesome, cruel, totally non-PC, and you’d have to be pretty depraved if you actually wanted to read it. So there. Lattimer, Chapter 3 (alternate) Blood and gore poured down Lat’s body and every striation and vein on his massive pecs and biceps glistened in the moonlight. He stood admiring his superhuman physique, massaging the crushed gore of Brandon’s body into his muscles, watching as they rippled and flexed with god-like power, acknowledging and worshipping them in a way he had never done before. “So this is what it’s like to be a true god,” he mused to himself. He always suspected his physical superiority over other people, and the massive size of his muscles, was not quite ‘normal’. He noticed that some of his childhood memories, so long obscured from his consciousness, seemed to be returning to him, wondering if perhaps the injection Ben gave him in the tent was responsible. The strongest recollections were of his powerful, violent emotions. He recalled that as a kid he could, and did, beat the shit out of anyone, including adults, that he felt like. And he usually felt like it several times a day. He distinctly recalled how, when he was six, his terrified ‘parents’ (if that was what they really were) tried to lock their bedroom door during one of his kid-tantrums, which enraged him to the point that he punched a hole straight through their solid wood door and ripped it off its hinges, tearing it, the door frame, and a large section of the solid brick wall away like it was made of paper. He knew that his parent’s lives were only saved from his tantrum that day by his complete surprise at just how incredibly powerful he was. That didn’t save his ever-patient, but increasingly frustrated, seventeen-year old ‘brother’ though. Lat enjoyed playing games with him where he would wrestle the teen and intentionally dominate and humiliate him with his superior muscularity and power. Even at four Lat could effortlessly pluck his brother off the ground and chuck him around like a ball. But by six Lat had become so physically enhanced that his brother frequently suffered broken bones and hospitalising injuries, and the incident with his parents had left his brother terrified whenever that violent glint came into Lat’s eyes. About a week after the incident with his parents, Lat paid him a visit in their basement gym. His brother was a typical teen-jock, and had pretty decent muscles for his age. Just as his brother re-racked his squat, Lat came up to him, stood up on the adjacent bench – he was barely four foot six tall – and plucked the 350lbs weight in his hand like it weighed nothing. “This all you’re lifting bro?” he mocked. “Go away Lat. I’m trying to get a serious workout here!” his brother snapped in frustration. Lat was in a playful mood though, and decided to teach his brother a lesson in humility. “I think it’s time I show you who makes the rules round here,” he stated, and began squeezing the barbell he held aloft in his hand. Rapidly the metal squeaked, and the laden bar bent upwards into a ‘V’, the fingers of Lat’s single hand forcing the metal up like dough. His brother looked at him in shock, totally amazed and terrified by this inhuman display of power. His six-year old brother was built like a scaled down version of a professional bodybuilder, only the muscles were far too exaggerated even for one of them. When Lat curled an object in his hand, his massive biceps and forearms would block any movement beyond about 90 degrees. His pecs, delts and lats similarly battled for space, and yet not an ounce of fat was visible and countless individual strands of muscle rippled beneath incomprehensibly thin skin. Capillaries and veins throbbed in bold relief beneath the surface with every steady beat of his heart. Even when Lat walked, his bloated butt, hamstrings and calves would jostle and clash against each other, ripping shorts or pants apart like tissue paper. This terrifying vision of physical and sexual perfection frequently haunted his brother’s most erotic of dreams, and the desire to reach out and feel that monstrous six-year old physique had become a jerk-off fantasy he was far too ashamed to admit. Even Lat’s pendulous cock and balls were forced up and out by his enormous quads, and looked completely absurd on what was effectively a kid, albeit one built like a gorilla. Right now Lat was wearing just a small pair of Rugby shorts and a vest, every distended bulge and rippling plane of sinew crunching beneath, with very little left to the imagination. Lat caught his brother ogling him and smirked. He dropped to the floor, still holding the weight in his fingers, and pushed it forward into his brother’s lower torso, forcing him back against the all-in-one multi-gym unit that straddled the centre of the room. Then, before his brother could react, he reached over and bent the steel bar, 350lbs of weights still attached, around the multi-gym unit, tying his brother tightly into one of the support pillars and crushing the plates into each other with his squeezing pecs. “That should hold your puny body for a minute or two. Now lets see how I’m gonna get a little workout here,” Lat pondered, as he walked around the multi-gym, squatted down and hitched his shoulders beneath one of the horizontal bars that connected the unit together about two-feet off the floor. His brother was kicking and squirming, trying to break free, but Lat had moulded the bar around him too tightly and precisely to allow any escape. Suddenly Lat gave out an almighty grunt, and with a shrieking tear, the metal feet fastening the unit to the concrete floor tore apart and it lifted straight up into the air, supported by Lat’s astonishing twenty-eight inch thighs and striated rippling glutes. There were six full-weight stacks on the unit, as well as all the seats and frames, and with the addition of the bent barbell, 350lbs of plates and his 180lbs brother, it probably tallied in at around one and a half tons. Lat’s shorts burst apart, unable to hold the huge muscles they contained, as he powered out rep after rep, his ass smashing into the concrete floor with each, blasting chunks out of it, chips hitting and cutting into his brother’s face, arms, and legs. Lat began performing one-legged squats, the ancillary muscles effortlessly balancing his body and keeping him from swaying on his leg, before switching over to the other for a further fifty. After he’d performed well over two- hundred reps, he grew bored and dropped the unit off his shoulders, bending it half in on itself as it hit the floor. He reached over to his brother, panting lightly, and flicked the sweat off his brow right into his face. “That’s how a real man trains legs, you weakling,” he growled, flexing a swollen double-biceps for emphasis. “Now let’s make up and share a brotherly hug,” and with that Lat reached as far around the machine and his brother as his short but eighteen-inch thick arms would let him. Lat grunted softly and his brother screamed shrilly, in agony, as Lat’s arms squeezed the barbell further into his torso, and the multi-gym began to squeal as the support struts bent inwards. Scrunching more of the machine within his grasp, Lat lifted the entire unit off the ground and forced his arms in towards his chest. His brother’s ribs ruptured through his vest and the cage tore completely open, exposing his rapidly beating, dying, heart and lungs to the air. Lat butted his head against the side of the ribs and they snapped and crunched back in on themselves, as the entire multi-gym unit collapsed and squealed inwards, the weight stacks beginning to fold into each other. The sheer power exerted by Lat’s arms and chest was unimaginable, and his brother’s screams rapidly died away as blood poured out of his mouth and his head lolled to the side. Lat continued to fold the multi-gym in on itself, until all the weight stacks were touching and crushing into each other and had merged with the pulped corpse of his brother. When he dropped the one and a half-ton unit, it was completely wrecked and compressed around the middle, forming an hour-glass shape, with the middle part of his brother’s body as flat as roadkill, blood and chunks of gore slowly dripping to the floor like wet shit, bones splayed at impossible angles and his pelvis snapped in half, separating his body vertically from the sternum down. After this first kill, Lat felt slight remorse, and for a while he attempted to rein in his strength, even though his bloodlust was growing. Inevitably though, no being with that kind of power can always be in control, and a sharp flex here or a muscle twitch there had resulted in some terrible accidental destruction and damage to both property and people. Growing increasingly bored with having to rein himself in all the time, he recorded his first rape at seven, during his sexual ‘voyage of discovery’. Once he figured out what the eight-inch boner that stuck out of his body was for, he determined to pleasure it. One night, when his so-called ‘uncle’ (probably a man involved in his creation, he thought in retrospect) was visiting their home, he ripped the locked door to the guest-bedroom open and began to fuck the man like a pro. Though more than a foot shorter than his uncle’s six-foot frame, his swollen muscles dwarfed the man’s several times over and were countless times more powerful. Lat grabbed the startled man by his shoulders and pulled him down to his knees, utterly dominating the man’s attempts to kick and free himself and squeezing the shoulder blades until the bones began to crack and grind together. Both were naked, but Lat was a rock-hard seven-year old muscle-god whose body resembled a road map of mountains, crevasses, peaks and valleys; the thirty year old man was soft, doughy and shapeless. Lat’s face was angular and chiselled, shaped more like a roided bodybuilder’s than a child's, and his uncle stared in terror as the eyes clouded over in lust, his tongue forcing the man’s lips aside and plunging into his mouth, drawing blood as they sucked and licked around. The excitement of enjoying another living being overcame Lat and as he raped his uncle’s mouth, breaking off his teeth and tearing his tongue in his lust to get closer to the heat and flesh, he rammed his cock into the kneeling man’s stomach, tearing a hole inside and ripping the skin up to the sternum. By this point, the blood-curdling kiss-muffled screams began to die away as Lat’s cock plunged in and out, through the liver and spleen, and crunched up against the sternum. His uncle was suffocating from the continued kiss and Lat began to draw air out of his uncle’s lungs and suck the organs into his mouth, enjoying the metallic tang of his blood. The most ecstatic pleasure imaginable was now coursing through Lattimer, and in response he began constricting the warm body he was fucking, squeezing it against and into his hulking torso. His uncle’s hands frantically, desperately, hit and pushed against the massive muscles of this seven-year old God that was slowly crushing him to death, but he couldn’t even nudge the boy backwards. As the man’s guts began to pour out of his body, Lat grunted in total abandon and pleasure and consciously began to crush down on the ribcage, circling the shoulders with his rippling arms and effortlessly compressing the puny being back in on itself. In rapid succession, Lat began to cum as he watched blood gush and bones splinter and shoot out of the pathetic collapsing man. Quarts of jism blasted into the body like bullets, gushing out the holes in his body, and Lat quickly lifted the almost dead man’s legs, snapping and folding them backwards, and then with one great squeeze crushed the entire body and skull against his pumped cock, quads, pecs and abs, forcing his chin down into the skull and cracking it apart as the brains oozed out between his pec cleavage and onto the pulped and bloodied remains of what used to be a man. Lat groaned in ecstatic relief and dropped the completely crushed corpse, pulping the remains down with his feet to make a comfortable bed, which he slept and squirmed around on in pleasure until he was found in the morning by his horrified parents. After these violent incidents, special ‘doctors’ gave him some tablets which seemed to calm him down a little, but at times he would remember the pleasure of killing, and he was still never to be crossed by anyone who valued their existence. Nevertheless, he felt genuine guilt for the death of his parents when he was ten, showing off his muscle-power to them by tearing a several-ton boulder out of the ground. His pants blasted to shreds as his massive ten-year old basketball-sized glutes and tree-trunk quads rippled and bulged to take the strain of hoisting the fifteen-foot diameter solid granite rock over his head like other kids would lift a plastic toy. His biceps ground into the rock turning bits to powder, and he suddenly had flashbacks to the way he was before the tablets, totally lost in his strength, and experienced such an incredible rush of aggression that as he smirked at the shocked faces of his parents, he grew disgusted by their puny, weak, inferior bodies and slammed the boulder into them, blasting them apart like cannon fodder, an explosion of blood, organs and limbs splattering the ground. Of course, after hearing what Ben had just revealed this evening, he suspected they probably weren’t his real parents anyway, and that he was probably some kind of experiment, like a super-soldier perhaps. But at the time, once he’d calmed down a bit, he grew upset – well for a couple hours at least, until he raped and killed the husband next door and added his equally insignificant corpse to the tally of dead. The fact that he never got into trouble for destroying people and other shit was confusing, but he barely dwelt on those details at the time. The next couple years, he was shifted around as an orphan from place to place, and his muscularity and sex drive went through the roof. A five-foot three ten year old with less than one percent bodyfat, a ten-inch cock, nineteen inch biceps, thirty-two inch quads and a fifty-eight inch chest was unheard of anywhere, and though he’d never truly tested his strength, he doubted there was much that could stop him. Even his ejaculate would shatter mirrors as he worshipped himself, usually in the master bedroom he ‘sequestered’ from whichever foster parents were brave enough to take him on for a few weeks or months. Things began to change by the time he hit eleven. Though the tablets did seem to prevent full-scale massacres from occurring, they were still clearly not inhibiting whatever it was that was causing the overall pattern of changes to occur. His muscles continued to grow and became so enlarged on his relatively short frame that clothing would become caught between them and rip as he moved, and his walk became more waddle than stride, his mountain of packed, striated, veined muscle pushing limbs out at right angles. It horrified all those around him, but to Lat, it was overwhelmingly sexy, and though by now he fucked and raped practically anything that moved, whenever and wherever he wanted, his lust for his own physique grew even more strongly. When a new injectable drug was given by these so-called ‘doctors’, however, it was as if, almost overnight, a new man was born. Lattimer forgot most of his violent past and stopped raping as his sex drive diminished. He gained a new group of friends – the ones he was now camping with – who bizarrely all joined his school at about the same time the new drugs were being administered. His height gradually caught up with his muscles as he passed through his teenage years, and though they remained huge, he no longer looked quite as freaky as before. The drugs clearly must have been designed to quell his strength, muscularity and violence, and he wondered if the shot Ben had just delivered in the tent – which he could only assume was meant to be a tranquiliser – was somehow mixed up with a de-inhibitor to the shots he had been given ever since. He certainly felt more powerful, and his naturally aggressive and violent personality more liberated than ever before as he began to remember these glimpses of his past behaviour. His cock suddenly shot up in salute of its master, and he pumped its huge vein- encrusted mass against Brandon’s pelvis, snapping it apart and plunging straight into the tree-trunk. “Fuck yeah!” he roared, and as he withdrew his over-excited cock from the corpse and cracking tree-trunk, he licked some of the rich coating of gore and blood off his biceps. It was only now dawning on him how fucking incredible being this superhuman was going to be. He was going to fuck the planet over like nobody’s business, literally. He wondered just what his limits might be. Hopefully he could gleam some more information from the last of his so-called friends before he killed them too.