Talon's Claws: Scattered Clippings
Accountant Greg discovers that something strange is happening in his Manhattan gym. A fanfic based on Topaz172’s “Talon’s Claws.”
I’ve been incredibly busy with work for the past couple of months, and so I’ve been starting new stories, getting halfway through, and then abandoning them when I lose momentum. But I was just in New York, the setting for one of my all-time favorite stories, Topaz172’s “Talon’s Claws,” and it made me think about writing a story that fused his fantasy universe with my experience of working out at Manhattan gyms. So this story was born. Hopefully, Topaz won’t mind, since I’m just drawing in the furthest margins of his epic canvas, not messing up the plot or appropriating any of his major characters. If you’d like me to set another short story in this fictional universe, please let me know! And enjoy the accompanying linked pictures, two of which also served as major inspiration!
As he walked into the gym at 7:00 am, as per usual, Greg Freidman again reflected on how much better things would be if he were working for himself. No more getting up at 6:15 for these 7:00 am workouts, that was one thing. It was the only time he could spare for the gym. Ernst & Young were hard-asses about him coming into the office no later than 9:00, and by the time he got off work, usually around 7:00 or 8:00 at night, he barely had energy for the subway ride back to his apartment, much less a full workout.
If he was working for himself, Greg reflected, he’d get to set his own hours. Sleep in some days, go to the gym wherever he wanted. Maybe even go midday, if he needed to clear his mind in the middle of some big work project. That was one of the advantages of being your own boss—getting to decide things for yourself, not having to follow anyone else’s stupid rules.
That settled it, Greg thought. It had been a long time coming, but as soon as he got into the office today, he was going to type up his two weeks notice and hand it in to HR. Life was too short to spend as a slave to the corporate grind.
As he walked through the gym doors, Greg noticed that it was strangely quiet. Sure, the usual dance-pop mix was blaring through the speakers, but no one was out on the floor. That was weird—there were usually at least a few guys working out this early. He always saw the same few regulars, although only a few of them were corporate drones like him. Most of his coworkers went to the fancier, more expensive gyms like Equinox, but Greg liked saving money on a bare-bones gym and getting to mix with a wider range of people: a few doctors and lawyers and finance types like him, but also electricians, college students, even those meathead cops from the station down the street.
Javi, one of the gym’s trainers, greeted him at the front desk as he scanned his membership card.
“Hey, we missed you yesterday,” the Puerto Rican trainer flashed a gleaming smile at Greg.
“Yeah, I had to take a rest day. Too much work.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you back. Can’t have you missing out on all the fun.”
“Yeah, about that… where is everybody?” Greg asked.
It took Javi a long time to answer, like he was trying to figure out what to say. “Oh… well… a lot of them got new jobs they gotta carry out. I have to stay here though. Man the fort.” Javi looked oddly regretful.
“Huh. Well, at least I won’t have to wait in line for the bench press.” Greg shrugged.
As he headed for the locker rooms, Greg spotted a familiar face coming from the other direction. It was Ron, a copyright lawyer who also sometimes worked out in the mornings. He was fully dressed in a suit and tie, his slick hair suggesting he’d just come from the shower.
“Hey, Ron! Done already?” Greg asked. The gym didn’t even open until 6:30, so Ron couldn’t have gotten in a workout, could he?
“Yes, I have tasks to perform,” Ron said flatly, reaching down to adjust what seemed to be a sizeable bulge in his suit trousers.
“Work is killer, isn’t it? But you’ve got to carve out time for yourself, for your own needs.”
Ron practically sneered at him with contempt. “My needs are unimportant. I serve a higher purpose now.”
“Well… okay, then. Don’t let me keep you.” Who knew that Ron was so passionate about copyright law? Greg supposed that some people were just workaholics.
Walking into the locker room, Greg saw that the gym wasn’t quite as abandoned as he’d assumed. Jake and Vinnie, two of the meathead cops from down the street, were in there wearing these absurdly small little posing thongs as they flexed in front of the mirrors. Greg couldn’t recall them ever wearing something like that—the bulges in those thongs were so obscene, Greg had to look away. Didn’t they just usually wear some basic boxer briefs? For that matter, had their bodies always been this huge, this shredded? Jake and Vinnie had always been big guys (and hitting the roids pretty hard, Greg had always suspected), but they’d never had this kind of pro bodybuilder-level vascularity, had they?
“Like what you see, man?” Jake smirked at him.
“No!…I mean…yeah…sorry to stare but…did you guys always used to be that big?”
“Nope,” Vinnie flashed him a conspiratorial smile, “Our Captain down at the station gave us a special gift. The kind that keeps on giving. Want to know our secret?”
Greg wasn’t sure he liked where this was heading. Were these cops going to sell him some illegal roids or something?
But rather than responding in words, Jake and Vinnie just turned around and shook their muscular buttocks at him, pulling down their thongs just an inch so he could get a good view of the matching triangular rune tattoos the cops had inked into the base of their spines.
“What are those?” Greg asked curiously, “Some kind of cop symbol?”
“No, not the police force. We’ve joined a… stronger brotherhood.” Vinnie said, a zealous fervor in his eyes. “And we want you to join us too.”
Before Greg could say a word, Jake jumped in. “Just think about it, bro. Joining has such rewards. So much power. So much strength. Strength in numbers. We just need you to say the magic words, and it can all be yours,” he whispered seductively.
“No thanks, guys,” Greg scoffed, turning away to find an open locker, hoping that the two meathead cops would get the hint he wasn’t interested. “I was never big on joining fraternities.”
“I bet we know how to change your mind,” he heard Vinnie say. “See, our muscles aren’t the only things that got bigger.”
Greg turned around and saw that the two cops had now pulled down their thongs and were sporting full erections, pointing straight towards him.
“Whoa! Put those things away!” Greg said, slowly backing away from the two sex-crazed cops.
“Talon Dominus,” Jake said conversationally.
“Talon Dominus,” Vinnie echoed.
Confused, Greg repeated the words, “Talon Dominus?” then suddenly felt a surge of pleasure that hit him right at the base of his spine and made him unsteady on his feet.
Vinnie bounded over to his side, his meaty arms grabbing hold of Greg to steady him. Greg could feel the obscenely muscular cop’s hard erection prodding against his outer thigh, leaving precum trails on his gym shorts. “There, you said the magic words. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Vinnie whispered seductively into his ear. “Now say it again: Talon Dominus.”
Greg knew better than to repeat those words. And yet they kept bouncing around his head. It was all he could think of: Talon Dominus, Talon Dominus, Talon Dominus. He wanted to fight, to break free from Vinnie’s grip, but those words in his head seemed to drain his resistance, and he felt his body start to go limp in the cop’s strong arms.
“No! Let me go, you fucker!” Greg gathered up all his willpower to shout as he tried to push Vinnie away. But then suddenly Jake was there on his other side, whispering into his other ear, “Talon Dominus, Talon Dominus, Talon Dominus…”
He was suddenly hearing the words in stereo, feeling the cops’ hot breath on his ears, feeling their hard dicks grinding against his legs. And the will to fight began to seep out of him. Greg could barely muster the energy to break out of the cops’ grip. What was the use? They were too strong, too powerful, too dominant. Just like their master, Talon. Talon Dominus.
Greg could only even muster a half-hearted shout of protest when Vinnie yanked down his gym shorts and underwear. Or when Jake moved behind him and shoved his huge hard dick up Greg’s virgin ass.
But the pain of feeling that big hot dick tunneling into his tight hole shook Greg out of his lethargy. He started squirming and shouting for real now, loud enough to drown out the hot voices in his ear whispering his future master’s name.
“Help! HELP! These fuckers have gone crazy!” he shouted.
And to his relief, he saw the locker room door open and Javi walk in.
“Thank god, Javi! You’ve gotta get these guys off me! They’re raping me!”
Strangely, Javi didn’t react. In fact, he didn’t even look surprised. His hand just drifted down to his crotch, and he started rubbing his growing erection through the front of his workout pants as he repeated, matter-of-factly, “Talon Dominus.”
Tears began to well up in Greg’s eyes as he realized that his last hope for help was gone. “Not you too, Javi!”
“You should have been here yesterday, Greg,” Javi said conversationally as he hauled out his hard cock and began stroking it in front of Greg’s face. “It was a madhouse. These two got here right when we opened and fucked me into submission. And then I was able to serve Master Talon by fucking at least 20 asses and repeating the magic words until they joined His legions. Some of them, we didn’t even wait until they got into the locker room. We were fucking them out by the weight racks and benches.” He chuckled at the memory and gave Vinnie a high five. “So you see, Greg, Talon Dominus.”
Now it was all three of them saying it at once, and the words kept multiplying and cluttering his brain: “TalonDominusTalonDominusTalonDominusTalonDominusTalonDominus…”
Greg felt that brief burst of resistance beginning to leave him again. He didn’t say a word, just stared at Javi’s hard dick, whose musky odor he could smell just inches away from his face. That was a big dick Javi had. A NICE big dick. It would be NICE to have a big dick like that of his very own. And somehow Greg knew that it would be easy. If he just said the magic words.
They were almost on the tip of his tongue now. A couple of times, Greg had caught himself croaking out the first syllable “Tal—“ only to stop himself before he got too far.
The ache in his ass was still intense. But even with Jake’s rough jackhammer strokes, that fat hot dick inside of him was starting to hit his pleasure centers. Greg knew it was only a matter of time before his last resistances were breached, before he gave in and repeated the words that would make this state of pleasure permanent.
He was so focused on the pleasure building up inside of him that he didn’t even hear Kyle walk into the locker room.
“Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to… Sorry, I’m just…” the blond college student stammered.
Deep down, Greg knew that he was too far gone to be rescued from his fate. But he could still save Kyle from joining him. He just had to shout, “Get out now! Run!”
Greg opened his mouth to say those words. But what came out was very different: a hoarse whisper of “Talon Dominus.”
“Why do you guys keep saying that? What does that mean, Talon Dominus?” Kyle asked, then had to hold onto a locker for support when the power of those words made him go weak in the knees. In an instant, Javi was there, pulling the college boy to his feet while pinning his arms back. And Vinnie was there too, swiftly pulling down the young man’s sweatpants and boxers, while shoving his angry veiny dick up Kyle’s pert, smooth virgin ass.
Part of Greg wanted to cry in frustration. But a growing part of him felt only admiration for Talon’s power. For how firmly his minions could take charge of a situation. How swiftly he was growing his ranks. Truly, Greg was a fool to have ever thought he could have resisted Master Talon’s power. The words were true. Talon Dominus. Talon Dominus. The words were so true he had to speak them out loud, “Talon Dominus.”
He got into a rhythm with Jake, the muscular cop fucking him and grunting “Talon Dominus,” and Greg riding that big hot cock, responding affirmatively that indeed “Talon Dominus.”
Vaguely, he noticed that Javi and Vinnie had moved Kyle over to the locker room bench beside him, all the better for Vinnie to fuck the boy’s virgin ass hard. Greg could see that Kyle was whimpering and howling in pain, and he wanted to reassure the boy that everything would be alright. Just as soon as he submitted to their new Master.
So Greg whispered reassuringly, “Talon Dominus,” moaning at the wave of pleasure emanating from his prostate as he spoke those words.
“Talon… Dominus?” Kyle whimpered, then sighed in relief as he felt the words take the pain away. Greg smiled to see that Kyle was a very good boy. He would not resist much longer.
And that’s when Greg realized that it was time to let go of the last vestiges of his resistance. Just shoot them all away. Let Master Talon take total control of his full balls and his hard dick, just blast away all of his resistance so that Master Talon could own him completely, body and soul. When Jake thrust into him this time, he did a little trick with his sphincter he didn’t even know he could do, and then the muscular cop was shooting a hot load up his ass, shouting “Talon Dominus!” and then Greg was shooting his own thick load all over the locker room bench, shouting “Talon Dominus!” as he felt the red-hot slave glyph begin to etch itself in the flesh at the base of his spine.
Blithely, Greg strode into the showers to wash the cum off his body and out of his guts, admiring the way his now-heavier hard dick swayed seductively when he walked. A few minutes later, Kyle joined him there. He admired the boy’s big erect cock and the sexy slave tattoo just above his perfect bubble-butt. He was sure that Kyle would bring many of his equally sexy young friends and classmates into Master Talon’s service today.
Toweling off, Greg walked back out into the locker room, amused to see that the bench which was still drenched with his fresh cum was now occupied by a 55-year-old chiropractor named George, who was putting up quite a struggle as Jake fucked his ass raw. Ignoring the man’s frantic pleas for help, Greg merely smiled and waggled his hard cock in George’s face, then whispered “Talon Dominus” and reached down to grab his gym bag, which he’d dropped in the struggle earlier.
As he dressed for work, adjusting his enhanced nine-inch cock into his boxer briefs so that the obscene bulge was not too obvious, then tucking his shirttail into the back of his briefs to cover up the triangular slave glyph on his lower spine, Greg reflected on how excited he was to go into the office today. He couldn’t believe that, just an hour ago, he wanted to quit. Why would he ever want to work for himself, when his office was full of men who were just waiting to be shown the glory of serving Master Talon? He thought he might start with Benji, the finance intern. The slim young man was only 5 foot 6; if Greg could get him away in a private conference room and lock the door, then Benji would be no match for Greg’s enhanced muscles. The boy would be singing Talon’s praises in no time.
As he strode confidently out of the gym, nodding to Javi, who was checking in another unsuspecting soon-to-be-slave at the front desk, Greg had to reach down and adjust his painfully hard cock in his dress pants, just imagining how many hot asses he was going to fuck today, how many men he was going to claim for Master Talon’s service. Truly, he had the best job ever!