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Frost
Planetoid
- Joined
- Apr 9, 2016
Nathanial Wright was the heir to quite a sum of money. Not enough to be a household name like Gates or Jobs but enough that he would have been quite comfortable even if he didn't work a day in his life. He could also afford to take a year off after highschool and before college, a year made even better by the fact that so far his parents seemed content to stay in Europe while he had free run of their home in the United States. The parties had started to become the stuff of legend. Summer was coming to an end though and that meant that a number of his friends who weren't taking a year off would soon be leaving for college, which would free up a good chunk of his time.
His father had the answer for that one. He didn't necessarily approve of his son spending a year however he liked and continued to push for more productive ventures. When he decided that his son was getting fat he also decided that he'd figured out what to do about it and put in a call to an agency that booked live-in personal trainers for wealthy clients. The house had about 8 bedrooms only one of which was in use right then so it wasn't like they lacked for space and the agency definitely promised results, even if they had to push their clients a bit to get them.
Truth be told 'fat' wasn't a word anyone other than his slightly over-critical father would have likely used to describe Nathan. Yes, he'd lost some muscle definition sense highschool and was a little soft around the middle where a nice six pack could have gone but he wasn't bad looking by any stretch of the imagination, just kinda out of shape. It hadn't affected his love life overly much either. Being rich certainly didn't hurt but he was quite good looking with a strong jaw and a smile that lit up the room. Those emerald green eyes didn't hurt when you were trying to draw attention to yourself either and they went nicely with hair that was a slightly dark shade of blond.
No one had told Nathan that he was supposed to be in the best shape of his life by the time that summer was over or that he very much did not have a choice in the matter. The first he heard of it was when the front doorbell rang and he went to answer it.
_________________
Yolanda Torres, or Lana to her friends, was used to jobs like this. She was a professional trainer, after all, charged with coming in and helping people get nice and fit. Usually it was some fat fuck in their late thirties or early forties, finally deciding that now was the time to get healthy. She did her job, of course, and got them up and moving.
She broke them, got them to give up their bad habits for the months that she was employed... but almost inevitably someone that set in their ways would drift back toward the habits that had screwed them up to begin with.
It was quite rare that she was hired to handle someone so young -- sometimes there was someone in their mid-twenties who hired her, but she'd never been hired by someone's parents of all things.
And so she was arriving today, dressed in jeans that hugged her hips and a heavy brown coat that fought off the surprising chill of the evening. It happened sometimes, and it made her cut something of an enigmatic figure. Especially when she was wearing a set of trendy sunglasses, and with a heavy duffle bag of indiscernible nature on her shoulder.
And when Nathanial Wright opened the door--
Huh.
He was cute. That was kind of a first.
"Evening. Are you Mr. Wright? I'm Yolanda Torres, the representative for "Better Bodies". Ready to get to work?" she asked, her voice ever so slightly accented with something Hispanic.
His father had the answer for that one. He didn't necessarily approve of his son spending a year however he liked and continued to push for more productive ventures. When he decided that his son was getting fat he also decided that he'd figured out what to do about it and put in a call to an agency that booked live-in personal trainers for wealthy clients. The house had about 8 bedrooms only one of which was in use right then so it wasn't like they lacked for space and the agency definitely promised results, even if they had to push their clients a bit to get them.
Truth be told 'fat' wasn't a word anyone other than his slightly over-critical father would have likely used to describe Nathan. Yes, he'd lost some muscle definition sense highschool and was a little soft around the middle where a nice six pack could have gone but he wasn't bad looking by any stretch of the imagination, just kinda out of shape. It hadn't affected his love life overly much either. Being rich certainly didn't hurt but he was quite good looking with a strong jaw and a smile that lit up the room. Those emerald green eyes didn't hurt when you were trying to draw attention to yourself either and they went nicely with hair that was a slightly dark shade of blond.
No one had told Nathan that he was supposed to be in the best shape of his life by the time that summer was over or that he very much did not have a choice in the matter. The first he heard of it was when the front doorbell rang and he went to answer it.
_________________
Yolanda Torres, or Lana to her friends, was used to jobs like this. She was a professional trainer, after all, charged with coming in and helping people get nice and fit. Usually it was some fat fuck in their late thirties or early forties, finally deciding that now was the time to get healthy. She did her job, of course, and got them up and moving.
She broke them, got them to give up their bad habits for the months that she was employed... but almost inevitably someone that set in their ways would drift back toward the habits that had screwed them up to begin with.
It was quite rare that she was hired to handle someone so young -- sometimes there was someone in their mid-twenties who hired her, but she'd never been hired by someone's parents of all things.
And so she was arriving today, dressed in jeans that hugged her hips and a heavy brown coat that fought off the surprising chill of the evening. It happened sometimes, and it made her cut something of an enigmatic figure. Especially when she was wearing a set of trendy sunglasses, and with a heavy duffle bag of indiscernible nature on her shoulder.
And when Nathanial Wright opened the door--
Huh.
He was cute. That was kind of a first.
"Evening. Are you Mr. Wright? I'm Yolanda Torres, the representative for "Better Bodies". Ready to get to work?" she asked, her voice ever so slightly accented with something Hispanic.