Marie Kondo's CockMari Method

"I'm so excited because I love mess."

Marie Kondo grinned from ear to ear. One look and the men could tell that sparkle in her eyes wasn't merely a reflection of their jism. She really loved seeing it splattered all over the walls and floor. It meant she got to roll up her sleeves and get cleaning.

Not that she had any sleeves to roll up. For a job as dirty as this, she went without a scrap of clothes, letting the men see her full thin and slender frame at its barest. She sighed and closed her eyes from a single step into the bathroom. Cum squished under her soles and toes, giving a new definition of slippery when wet as she made her way to the middle.

"Ahhhhh...." Marie took a deep breath. Like all her declutter methods, her Shinto-inspired approach required deeply feeling the space down to her pores as the first and most essential step.

"What's she doing?" an attendant asked his comrade.

"The CockMari method requires total concentration," the other replied. "She starts by sensing the mess and where it came from, then she digs into the 'secret sauce'."

The first attendant snickered, unaware of what he truly meant. Once the Asian matron of cleanliness connected, she had to approach this space in the correct order. That order took her into the nearest stall, where she dropped to her knees in front of the filthy toilet bowl. Staring into the placid gunky water, she leaned in and whiffed contentedly like a chef testing her brew. Within a few seconds, she announced her verdict.

"This semen sparks joy."

She inched forward until her tongue touched the porcelain throne. Her fleshy wiping pad swept up the dirty rim's grime easily. Slowly, she lapped along its edge and savored the pungent taste striking at her tiny buds. She could envision the countless men who used this toilet by their mosaic of flavors, all coalescing into a slimy texture that made her wet. She may have lacked proper assets with a flat butt and even flatter chest, but she made up for it in enthusiasm and massive brown nipples. The bowl's chill only excited those nubs more, egging her on into diving her whole pristine dollish face into its waters and sucking up what floated on the surface.

A short, heavy breath escaped and drew in as she prepared for the deepest clean. Then, splashing into its furthest depths, she kept her eyes trained on the morsels trying to escape as she let her long black hair soak. When she came back up, with a sparkling commode for her hard work, her drenched locks looked more like a mop.

Her moan as she rubbed her fingers in her snatch revealed a job well done. She almost moved on from this stall, until something jarring caught her gaze. A hint of disgust ruined her serene outlook.

"This toilet paper does not spark joy."

The roll went out with a toss. Then, reaching back, Marie had little trouble pulling the well-used marker from her loose asshole. The cap popped off. Sliding it in her hand, she added the details for her world famous CockMari services with a self-satisfied grin.

"Much better," she assessed, before rising from the ground with jizz sticking to her shins and thighs. Before long, a wonderful ache would set into those muscles. The bathroom, currently a disaster zone no sane person would enter, would look spotless from every little speck finding itself in and on the one and only Marie Kondo.

A semen demon would emerge hours later, a slimy trail in her wake which she would more than happily clean after the layers on her body dried. But like her show, documenting every second for home viewing wasn't feasible. Her audience got the highlights, from start to finish and the best moments where she rolled along the floor and smeared her hair into big globs. Only Marie herself would know the full satisfaction that came from cleaning up all this cum the CockMari way.