Master Chef

Chapter 1

The kitchen at Hunter's Sports Bar was a hive of activity. It was the same story every Saturday night. In fact it was the same story most nights because people didn't only come to Hunter's for the live sports or the beer, they actually came for the food too. In contrast to the awful, low-effort deep fried muck served at a lot of sports bars, Hunter's offered quality food at reasonable prices, thanks to their head chef Alexa Bliss.

Alexa placed a 12oz rib eye steak with sautéed mushrooms, vegetables and fries in the window in front of her cooking area, followed by an order of Pasta Alfredo. She urgently rang the bell on the counter top several times. "Service! Bayley, where's that Hawaiian pizza?"

At the other end of the kitchen, Bayley Martinez, the sous chef at Hunter's, and Raquel Rodriguez, a waitress and pot washer, were passing by each other.

"I swear I could kill that woman," Bayley muttered.

"Or stick that bell up her ass," Raquel agreed, heading to collect the food Alexa wanted taking out.

"Thirty seconds on the pizza, chef!" Bayley called out. Having just taken it out of the oven, she set about cutting it into slices. Meanwhile, Raquel loaded the food that was ready onto a tray.

"Table six. Let's move! Let's move!" Alexa barked at her.

There was no doubting that Alexa was an excellent chef, at least in terms of her cooking. But the way she ran the kitchen like a military operation did not make life easy for her subordinates.

"I'm moving, chef," Raquel grumbled, looking down at the diminutive little drillmaster the other side of the window.

"Move faster. Bayley, today would be nice!"

"Coming, chef," Bayley said, approaching with the plated up pizza.

Alexa had already moved on to a new order ticket that had just printed out of the nearby machine. "Two pretzel poppers, one fajita salad!"

Salads were Bayley's responsibility. She jumped right to it. "One fajita salad, chef," she acknowledged.

"Let's go! We don't want to get backed up!"

On her way out of the kitchen, Raquel rolled her eyes. She almost never saw the kitchen backed up. She edged by Seth Rollins, one of the bartenders, who had apparently been and bussed a table. He was heading to the kitchen with plates and glasses that would be added to the stack waiting to be washed up.

She delivered the food to table six, receiving compliments on how good the food looked. With that done, she made her way back towards the kitchen. The bar was noisy and busy, with people watching a big football game. She noticed Hunter and Stephanie Helmsley at a table with some friends of theirs, enjoying themselves rather than helping. Fair enough, Raquel supposed. They paid staff to do the work. Why should they do it themselves?

Seth came out of the kitchen door just before Raquel got to it. He paused to hold it open for her.

"Thank you," she said, heading inside.

"Raquel! Getting low on plates!" Alexa yelled.

"Yes, chef!" she replied, sucking up the frustration. She had already tried to get to the washing up three times, only to be yelled at to do something else before she could make a start.

"Chin up. Only two hours until closing time," Bayley said quietly.

Raquel grimaced, but she appreciated the sentiment.

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Closing time wasn't the end of a shift at Hunter's. Once the kitchen was closed, it was cleaning time. That process too fell under the ever-watchful, ever-critical eye of Alexa. Raquel knew having high standards for hygiene and cleanliness was a good thing in a professional kitchen, but that didn't make being bossed around much easier. Alexa had a list of items and places that needed to be cleaned every day, once every two days, or once every three days. This meant that the whole place was spotless from top to bottom twice a week. It was a lot of work to pull that off.

"Get that fryer oil changed," Alexa ordered her two subordinates.

"Yes, chef," Bayley said.

Raquel looked over at Alexa, wearing yellow rubber gloves and scrubbing away at the hobs, going hard at it. At least she did her own share of the work.

Waiting for Bayley to get a container in place under the fryer gave Raquel a few precious seconds to rest. She was sweating and aching, neither of which were new experiences. In fact they were a nightly occurrence in this job.

A few minutes later, the fryer oil was drained into the large black container. Carrying it out back to the recycling container was a job suited for Raquel, who was much stronger than Bayley. She bent down and picked it up, as she had done countless times before. This time, as she stood up, thanks to her wet nitrile gloves, one of the handles slipped out of her hand. Most of the oil was immediately dumped onto the tiled floor.

"Shit!" Raquel raged, instantly aware that the mess she had just created was going to take an age to clean up. With trepidation, she turned to look at Alexa. As expected, her eyes burned and her mouth was clenched tight. She was seething. "Sorry, chef," Raquel said humbly.

"You will be," Alexa growled.

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Later that night, Alexa stood in front of a full-length mirror in her bedroom, making finishing touches to her look for the evening. She had on light blue butt lifting booty shorts and a matching top that showed off plenty of cleavage. Yes, sexy enough, she decided, and just the kind of outfit, if that was what it could be called, that her girlfriend loved to see her in.

Next, Alexa checked what she called the toy box at the bottom of her bed. Everything that might be needed later was ready and waiting: bondage ropes, rolls of duct tape, ball gags, blindfolds, masks, gloves, whips, dildos and a strap-on. "Wait, where did the handcuffs go?" she asked herself.

As it turned out, they were in the first place she looked – a drawer in one of the nightstands. She retrieved them and put them back in their place in the toy box. Everything had to be in the right place, neat and tidy. That went for her toy box, her house, or her kitchen.

The doorbell rang.

"Perfect timing," Alexa said, excitedly heading out of the bedroom. Her girlfriend had arrived. There would be time for a drink and a quick meal, then it would be straight upstairs to open the toy box.

Downstairs, Alexa took a second to compose herself before opening the door.

"Hey, goddess."

Alexa looked up adoringly at Raquel. "Hey, mami."

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A/N: I've been considering writing this for some time. Let me know if you'd like to see more.