Focus on a solid workout

{if x=0}

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\notes:

//good hard workout, increase confidence

//default option, mindy_path 0, possible path 1 or 3

//if guilttrip, let her off the hook, path 0

//if fuckbuddy, agree to let it go, path 0

{elseif Day>0}

{if mindy_guilttrip = true}I send a text from my car to let Mindy know when I will arrive. On the way, I mull over how totally undeserving she is of my darker impulses. I absolutely want to screw Victoria over, hard, early, and often, but I can’t let this turn me into a complete fucking monster. Inflicting personal harms upon her would just be too fucked up. No, I’m going to whip her ass into shape and she is going to learn to love it.

{endif}

Mindy swings the door open before I even knock. She is wearing a sharp, new outfit: a pair of tight grey yoga pants with a wide, red stripe down the side each leg and a red tank top to match. It is far more flattering than her previous attire.

“Wow, you look great!”

“Thanks. I picked it up yesterday.”

“You’re going to need it. Today I’m going to make you sweat.”

{if Got a black eye from angry hubby=true}

“Oh joy—Whoa! What happened to your eye? Were you in a fight?”

Oh yeah, that... I pull a story out of my ass to keep the questions to a minimum. “Naw... naw... that would imply that I was an active combatant... More like some dude at the bar clocked me.”

“What did you do to deserve that?”

I give a shocked look of innocence. “Me? Nothing! I was simply talking with a nice woman. I guess she had a husband in the bathroom or something.”

“Goodness Warren, we need to assign a chaperone for you. Does it hurt?”

“Not really. I forgot about it, honestly.”

{else}

“Oh joy!” she exclaims with delightful sarcasm.

{endif}

{if mindy_guilttrip=true}Mindy gives me a hug, unusually stiff for her warm nature. She gets me some coffee at the table and then a bowl of cereal at my request.

Something is bothering her. After the nasty guilt trip I laid on her, I can guess why. It is well past time to ease her mind. Mindy looks over her shoulder as I speak.

“Mindy, I met with Lewis. I decided not to mention us at all. And... I overreacted in the first place. I’m sorry—for worrying you so much.”

Mindy rushs over to me. “No! You didn’t overreact. I let things get out of hand.” Her hand goes to my shoulder as she crouches to my eye level.

She is about to say more but I don’t want to draw this out. I pat her hand and say firmly with sympathetic eyes, “We were both equally to blame and don’t argue with me about that. It just took me a little time to sort out my feelings about it. I am fine now... It was actually sexy as hell, and I reserve the right to jerk off to the memory of it.”

Her intense look of concern melts as streaks of pink erupt up her neck and across her cheeks. She clears her throat. “That is... acceptable.”

“So any guilt you have about it, I need you to apply to giving me everything you’ve got today. This workout is going to kick your ass. Are we understood?”

She nods, pent up stress draining from her whole body at once. She sniffles, nods, then gives me a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Yes! That’s perfect. Thank you.”

{elseif mindy_fuckbuddy=true}

Mindy lets me in and closes the door before giving me a hug and a wet kiss on the cheek, both of which feel more intimate than usual. She abruptly breaks away from me and walking into the kitchen a little too quickly, flustered by her own behavior.

She gets me coffee, and when I mention being hungry she pulls out a pan to cook a hot breakfast, but I opt for a bowl of cereal instead so we don’t waste too much time. I try to scarf it down, but she keeps making me answer her conversational questions. Eventually I realize she is trying to delay the workout with smalltalk.

“Let me wash that for you,” she offers.

“It can wait until after the workout.”

“I should rotate the laundry first.”

“Stop it. Gym. Now.”

She smiles impishly. “Fiiiine.”

{else}Mindy lets me in her house and gives me the usual hug. She gets me coffee, and when I mention being hungry she pulls out a pan to cook a hot breakfast, but I opt for a bowl of cereal instead so we don’t waste too much time. I try to scarf it down, but she keeps making me answer her conversational questions. Eventually I realize she is trying to delay the workout with smalltalk.

“Let me wash that for you,” she offers.

“It can wait until after the workout.”

“I should rotate the laundry first.”

“Stop it. Gym. Now.”

She smiles impishly. “Fiiiine.”

{endif}

{if mc_sorelegs=true}

Once we are in the wourkout space we get right to it. She finds it hilarious that I grunt like an elderly man trying to get out of bed. It’s not my fault that my legs are incredibly sore—oh yeah, I guess it is.

{else}

Once we are in the workout space we get right to it. I hound her through a grueling circuit of exercises, designed to drench the floor with her sweat and make her cry to the gods for mercy. She discovers a few creative new ways to complain that are almost, but not quite, swear words.

{endif}

{else}Play in game mode.{endif}