Gay Butler

Schöneberg

"Squire!" Called out Master Francis in a hurried tone. "Pack your bags! I have an urgent business meeting in Berlin. I need you ready to carry my luggage for me when we set off towards the airport tomorrow morning." Informed the Master, intriguing the Butler with thoughts of travelling abroad. "We're travelling private, of course - G5, classic design. Beautiful model." Master Francis continued to express the extravagant qualities of his private jet, allowing Butler Hemming-worth to slip out of the living room in order to begin packing for the trip.

The Butler hurried up the Master's grand staircase into the staff quarters and entered his bedroom, setting out a bedazzled Yves Saint Laurent suitcase on the bed, ready to pack. Bursting open his wardrobe, he picked out his best flamboyant Elton-John-style suits for formal wear; he collected his velvet underwear collection for a little less-than-formal wear; he packed his sparkling tutus and fairy costumes for his party wear. Feeling confident he had packed for every occasion, the Butler added his wash-bag and other essentials to his luggage and skipped back into the living room to meet with Master Francis.

"Sire, may I ask, which part of Berlin will we be travelling to?" Questioned Hemming-worth.
"Schöneberg, squire. I'm meeting with an old school friend of mine who appears to match me in my mathematical genius and innovative entrepreneurial skills. Elon Musk - you may have heard of him?" Master Francis replied, awaiting a response from his Butler; it appeared, however, as though the Butler had become lost in some fairytale string of thought at the utter mention of 'Schöneberg'.

The Butler's thoughts raced with sparking excitement. Why, you may ask? Well, one word. Schöneberg. The destination rife with homosexuals alike, abound with gay bars and glitter. Every gay man's dream. Butler Hemming-worth internally devised a plan for the excursion: spend the day fulfilling his duties for Master Francis, spend the night partying in the queer fairgrounds. The journey of a lifetime.

Master Francis watched as Butler Hemming-worth returned from his dazed, daydreaming state, only to run back up to his room to pack some final fashion items he had suddenly decided necessary for the trip. Francis spent the rest of the evening organising his luggage and business proposals for the upcoming trip; sombre symphonies of Tomaso Albinoni played throughout the rooms, drifting the household to sleep as they awaited the trip the upcoming morning.

6:30 am

The Butler arose bright and early with eager emotions in preparation for the trip. Master Francis had already made his way downstairs and was awaiting the chauffeur to take him and his theatrical Butler to his private jet.

"Squire! Do hurry! I need you to load my luggage into the Bentley when my chauffeur arrives!" Called Master Francis from the bottom of the grand staircase. With that, pattering of frantic feet could be heard as the camp character raced towards the landing and downstairs in great excitement - God knows why.
"Yes, sire! Wouldn't miss it for the world." Replied Hemming-worth as he presented himself in his glamorous, white Givenchy suit.

A knock on the mansion's tremendous door alerted Francis and Hemming-worth that their chauffeur had arrived. The Butler was practically frothing at the mouth with enthusiasm: images of male strippers and tequila shots inciting thrills in his mind. But he had to contain himself. He reminded himself that he still had duties to carry out for the Master before he could sneak off for his own satisfaction.

"You know squire, I've never been to Schöneberg before. I wonder what the appeal is." Stated Francis, sparking a humorous reaction from his Butler. "What on Earth are you giggling at? You better not be up to any mischief squire. I vividly remember your homoerotic orgy before my marvellous dinner party and your catering catastrophe when preparing the simplest of dishes. I recognise that laugh." This statement immediately corrected Hemming-worth's behaviour and the Butler reminded himself to be more cautious when pursuing his erotic fantasies.
"Yes sire, I do apologise. I myself have never visited Schöneberg. I, too, wonder what the appeal could be..." Commented the Butler with the implication that he knew more than he was letting on.