Another fantasy, i am afraid.
This one isn't a true story
The Cleaner
Her heart palpitates a little too hard as the nerves kick in. The wonder of what she could be about to find always became a touch too much to stay completely calm at this point.
It was always the same though. The same routine. The same expectations of her. Regular employment was a chore but she generally enjoyed her work and she was offering and delivering a specialist service which was quite an uncommon one. It suffered the same peaks and troughs as any other hands-on business and she was always grateful to be busy.
These houses were always filthy as though they stored themselves up for her. It shouldn't matter as she was paid by the hour, and to be fair, it didn't, beyond an astonishment that this was how some people lived.
But if they cleaned them for themselves, she wouldn't have a job?
That was the agreement that was made each time: What wasn't done was always left for next time. She was paid by the hour and maintained an excellent work ethic for each duration. She had never had a complaint.
So much so, she was always asked back for yet another room when they could afford her, the kitchen being a popular choice too.
Business was good.
She looked at the schedule on her phone app order system to see what the homeowner had ticked and paid for:
*Lounge thorough carpet sweeping
*Dusting of all surfaces
*Skirting board, wiped down by hand
*Lounge window inside cleaned.
*Fireplace cleaned and waxed.
All in one area. That seemed simple enough.
She sighed and read down the list. Skirting boards always meant time on her hands and knees with legs splayed wide, feet kicking up into the air. She could do them in seconds with a mop of course, but hand wiping them with a cloth repeatedly being washed through from a bucket by the side of her, well, that required a lot of crawling around on the floor sometimes with her head under a chair trying to reach every inch of it.
She liked wearing rubber gloves for that. Some clients liked that, others didn't supply them and if so, she wouldn't use bleach.
Waxing the fireplace would be a lot of physical effort too, kneeling up and rubbing back and forth vigorously. Getting every square inch would be a lot of physical exertion.
What else was there here?
Oh yes... windows cleaned inside. That would mean being on tip toes as she wasn't overly tall, and a lot of stretching and balancing to reach the furthest corners or teetering with one foot on a stool, the other on the window board.
She didn't mind cleaning the outside glass if the garden was walled and discrete and especially if the weather was warmish but when cleaning on the inside she always felt on complete display to the world as well as to the person watching from the armchair.
Outside on a cold day made everything a little more nippy and on those occasions, she was very swift completing the job.
Carpet sweeping was easy enough but getting into some of those tricky spots meant a lot of effort with moving the furniture out and then returning it back to original locations again. Moving a sofa back and forth was always doable once she had widened her stance and braced for the effort.
Effective cleaning was tricky enough to do at the best of times, but she was 'the naked cleaner' and for the entire two hours she was going to be completing the work whilst only wearing her slutty red stiletto heeled shoes and lipstick on her mouth and nipples.
The business idea was inspired and she had enjoyed constant employment since starting it a few months ago.
