My name is Beyoncé and I’m the night shift janitor at the high-end love hotel “Golden Pink”. Us staff call her Golden Fuckhouse or, just affectionately, The Golden. This is where that one percent folk come to get their freak on. I don’t even have to worry about finding one of my mates and her boo doing the nasty. Nobody I know could afford a night at the Golden without trafficking human organs.
One of the rooms has a fully functioning Belgian chocolate fountain. I cannot distress how messy it gets. Chocolate gets everywhere. Once a week, Rafael, my absurdly short Brazilian co-worker, wipes chocolate off the ceiling at the “Sweet Temptation” quarters.
“Three hours, Bey! Three hours of my life I spent cleaning chocolate and porra off a motherfucking ceiling.” – Rafael whined during our break
“I should’ve known that”
“How much longer will this last? I mean, I’m a good employee, not even illegal. It feels like a punishment since I barely reach the ceiling. They could promote me and I would be useful in some other area that didn’t involve semen”
Rafael is young, full of dreams. Leaving Brazil was due since he didn’t like the prospects of a 35-year-old life expectancy being transgender. He also left searching for a better place. Somewhere he could pursue his dreams of becoming a Waterpark designer. It’s a bit of a revengeful desire since he still isn’t allowed to ride most of the slides for being too short. That embittered his soul.
“Raf, you better start liking the job you got. Make some money first and go work someplace else”
“You know how hard it was for me to find someone who would hire me. I don’t want to go through that humiliating job hunt anytime soon. Besides, what’s the matter in aiming for a promotion? Are you scared I might dethrone you, Queen B?” – He said with a sly smile.
“Fuck off, Raf. My mom was into African studies during high school. She first heard “Crazy In Love” when the birth certificate papers were done, ok? Not my fault my Korean ass is called Beyoncé.”
“I think I rubbed salt in an old wound, eh?”
“Just shut up”
Our break was over and off we went. Rafael is simply a summer child. He hasn`t understand the true nature of The Golden yet, but soon enough he will. The thing about rich folks is they don’t hold back. There is no reason not to be or do what they want since they have no one to impress. Other than the other rich folks, of course, but all of those who come to The Golden seem to be the same. It is commendable, obviously. People being who they are with no shame whatsoever is beautiful. The real shame is I’m the one who has to clean up the porra afterwards.
I’ve seen and cleaned my fair share of cum. At first it would disgust me, sure, but I got used to it. Now I just picture the little swimmers in a panic like “Where’s the goddamn egg, Linda? You told me there would be an egg” and Linda would be like “Shut up! We’re all gonna die! You’re the fucking egg*, Rachel!”. Would I it were just cum, but at The Golden’s “Wet And Messy” room things get, well, wet and messy.
I remember my first time at the “Wet And Messy”. I wheeled my cleaning cart through the staff corridor away from our prestigious guests’ sight. Being around poor people tends to kill their mood, as I’ve been told. The guests who last used the room had already left. It is my job to be swift and leave everything pristine clean in case someone else comes asking for the one I`m in. I turned my keys and opened the door to a pitch-black room. I reached for the light switch. My hands touched a gooey substance and my stomach turned. Cleaning cum was one thing, but touching it with my bare hands was not on my paycheck. I flicked the lights, it wasn’t cum.
Shampoo was the mysterious goo I touched. In comparison, they are actually very similar both being a white and firmer form of liquid. Except, you know, the semen part. The whole room was covered in shampoo squirts. It smelled quite nice, probably was some fancy brand one couldn’t find at a drugstore. There were also pieces of rubber I figured were the cadavers of balloons since some of them weren’t popped.
I wiped my shampooed hand and put on my gloves because I wouldn’t be fooled twice, no ma’am. As I reached to pick one of the shampoo covered balloons it decided to self-destruct. My whole face was covered in expensive shampoo someone used for sexy times. I thought my humiliation was over, but no. An under covered agent was blended in the Shampoo to infiltrate the enemy. I found the cum after all and the cum found my mouth. This was the day I started using facemasks to work. Next time I see my manager I’ll recommend Rafael for the “Wet And Messy”. The kid has to learn The Golden ways one way or another.