I left the kitchen and went out to my container, even though I didn't like the place. It was a converted cargo container after all, but it did have the few items that I'd been allowed to call my own, including my exercise clothes. Stripping down, I shivered in the sub-freezing temperature, but accepted it. Mistress told me that the cold helped me stay lean, and it increased my testosterone production, which she valued. As such, I wore nothing but a form-fitting tank top and compression leggings along with my running shoes as I started off on the morning run.
First, a two-kilometer jog to warm up my body before reaching the river bank, which dipped sharply for nearly fifty meters to the water. Walking down to where the toes of my shoes touched the river, I turned, sprinting up the twenty-degree incline as hard as I could until I reached the top before walking back down and repeating the process again and again. After the last one, my heart was pounding in my chest and my mouth tasted of electric spit, but I pushed myself to run as hard as I could back to the house, stripping off my shoes when I got inside as I was instructed, and going to the house's fitness center where I found another pair of shoes and socks inside my bag which had been hung on a hook on the wall. Quickly changing, I followed my program for the day which had been written out on the bulletin board for me, leaving my upper body as exhausted as my lower. I glanced at the clock and pushed myself, cursing my laziness during my sprints as I only had seven minutes now to shower and bathe myself before having to see Maria in the kitchen again.
Jumping in the shower, I couldn't help but shiver as the cold water splashed against my upper back and down my body. Working quickly, I lathered my face with the provided soap before shaving, using precious minutes to make sure I didn't nick or cut myself in any way.
With one minute and fifteen seconds minutes to spare, I got out of the shower and dried myself off, wishing I had a few seconds to enjoy the rich Egyptian cotton of the towel. Instead, I quickly changed into the briefs and pants that had been laid out for me before applying the cologne that Mistress wanted me to wear, then pulled on my undershirt. I could wait on putting on the rest of my clothing until after my second meal.
I got to the kitchen again just as Maria set my second meal on the staff table. She glanced at the clock and tutted, shaking her head reprovingly. “You are pushing your time, Spartak. It’s nine thirty three. Can you make it in time?”
I nodded, sitting down and setting my other items over the back of the chair next to me. “Mistress wants me in twenty-seven minutes. I can finish this in ten, and still have time to finish my morning preparations.”
“You are going to eat a three-hundred-gram steak and the sides in less than ten minutes, and still be ready to put the rest of your suit on? I have to watch this.” Maria wiped her hands on the dishtowel that was hanging off her apron strings and sat down at the table across from me.
I got to work, not taking the time to savor each bite as I began chewing mechanically, cutting and forking the next bite even as I swallowed the one before it. I wished that Maria had prepared ground meat for me instead of a steak, it would have been easier, but was content. “This is good.”
“Thank you, I rarely get a chance to cook evening-type meals,” she said with a chuckle. “Although if your time schedule is going to become this compacted, I may switch to making you those American style scrambled eggs with cheese that you like.”
“If that is easier, go ahead,” I said, sticking another bite of steak in my mouth. My stomach was clenching, not wanting so much food after such a hard workout, and my calves trembled underneath the table inside my suit pants, but I didn't stop. At that moment, eating was my job, and I was going to do my job to the best of my ability.
The last bite from the plate went into my mouth at eight minutes and forty-three seconds by the clock behind Maria, and I now had exactly nine minutes to finish preparing. Wiping my mouth on the napkin, I stood up. “Thank you Maria. You are a talented chef.”
I pulled on the shirt and silk tie that Mistress had ordered laid out for me, tying it in the full Windsor that she said she preferred. I checked my tie length against my belt and then the knot itself, snugging it under my chin and making sure the collar tips laid down perfectly before grabbing the jacket. It wasn't Italian, my build was too broad for that narrow of a cut, but it was still a very nice suit, imported from London according to Mistress when she first had me wear it for her. I did the top button on the jacket and turned to Maria, who had gone back to her duties. “How do I look?”
“Do you really want me to answer?” she said with a little laugh. “Because you look good enough that I want to drag you away and do things to you now. So get going before I lose my job.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Thanks, Maria. I'll see you tomorrow.”