The Love Of Money - Episode 237
06-08-25 (17:51)
Dark Turns.
It's time for the board meeting.
Monday, 5:30 am
Unable to do another pushup, I face-planted on the
matted floor.
"Not bad," Tara Gellar sing-songed in that attractive
Australian accent. I thought I was going to enjoy
working out while a supermodel-beautiful, Olympic-
level fit, Aussie goddess coached me along. Right now, I
hated it, and I hated her.
"This is humillating," I muttered, the words muted by
the foam on the gym floor.
"Nah," Tara said. "This is an assessment. I've seen
worse."
I rolled over on my back and looked around the gym-all
the equipment was state-of-the-art and expensive, but
it had Tara's approval. I had a couple of ellipticals,
treadmills, stair-step machines, and cardio rowing
machines. There were machines for building muscle in
different areas of the body. Free weights had been
stacked and racked along one wall for easy access.
Two of the walls had mirrors mounted on them, and
the entire floor was padded with the highest quality
gym foam Erin could find. I could efficiently work any
muscle in my body without leaving the comfort of my
home-my body transformation journey had begun.
The problem was, having never been a consistent
member of a gym or a fan of working out in general, I
wanted to throw up after thirty minutes of working
with Tara... and apparently this was just the
assessment. I shuddered to find out what the actual
fucking workout was like.
Tara offered me a tablet. "Okay. Assessment's done.
This is the schedule I've built out for you."
I rolled closer to where' she sat and sat up, mirroring
her position on the floor by crossing my legs as I took
the tablet and looked it over
"Do we have to do this every day at five in the
morning, though?" Tara asked.
"No," I said. "I hate mornings as much as you. I just
wanted to get my blood pumping before the meeting
today. Didn't expect to feel nauseous though."
Tara grimaced. "Wish you would have told me that's
what you were going for. It'll pass once you get some
food in you. I've already started working with Camille
on a diet."
"Lovely," I said, anticipating being sentenced to egg
whites, salads, and protein shakes for the next few
months. "This workout doesn't seem like much," I said,
holding up the tablet.
"You won't be saying that by the end of the week,"
Tara said with an amused smile. "Don't worry. It'll get
harder."
"Okay," I said, eyeing the schedule skeptically, but she
was the expert, so if she said this was a good start, I
believed her.
"Has anyone else talked to you yet?" I asked.
"Just Chloe. She doesn't need personal training, but she
asked for a regular sparring partner."
"Cool," I said. "Erin wants to set something up with you,
too."
My personal trainer sat straighter when I said that,
displaying a few subtle signs of interest. I couldn't
blame her. Erin in a sports bra and some yoga pants
working out? I imagined that was one of those natural
wonders that made you reconsider your belief in God -
like the Grand Canyon. To be fair, Tara was a work of
art all her own. Catching both of them in here at the
same time might take years off my life just from the
sheer amount of arousal they would inflict on me.
"Bobbi will probably reach out to you today, too. I want
you to build a schedule for her."
"Yeah," Tara said, "About Bobbi..."
"The collar?"
"Yeah," Tara said, her piercing blue-gray eyes full of
questions. "Who is she?"
"That's a long story," I sighed as I set the tablet down.
"I'd like to hear it."
Tara would be working with us all pretty intimately, so
I decided she might as well know the entire situation.
Erin had drawn up a boilerplate NDA for her that she'd
already signed, so I felt relatively comfortable filling her
in on a few of the details. I left out a few of the darker
elements of how we met, but told her most of our
situation-Bobbi had been stealing from the company I
bought, had mistreated most of the people she worked
with, and was an outright bitch. I threatened to turn her
in, but instead of accepting that fate, she decided to
enter a deal with me that resulted in a collar and a
status as a live-in plaything story had a thin coating of
sugar to make the whole thing a bit more palatable,
but hadn't lied. If Bobbi told a different narrative, and
Tara decided she didn't like it, well... I'd burn that bridge
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