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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the realm of personal services, however they told her she could and should pass for more youthful.

So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (showing some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and preferable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.

Simply put? Profitable.

Selling yourself was legal here, to decrease it to basic terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she walked in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being a product called Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only secure her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe range, praying each time she ‘d come out with her dignity intact.

This was just temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wanted to achieve afterwards.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed the call button next to an unmarked metal door. A female voice crackled through the speaker: “Hello.”.

” Hi, I’m here for the interview? From the Craigslist advertisement?”.

The buzzer sounded. She pushed the door open to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later, when asked what she pictured discovering there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that corridor didn’t result in one.

Later on, when asked why she remained a full week once she understood what it was about, her reply came easily:.

” For the money, obviously.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anyone.

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Her very first customer, a white male in his 40s, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.

” You look great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly pretty.”.

She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, shivering in her four-inch heels, however perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s begin? Do not stress, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what looked like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, great and simple.”.

He removed his clothing, all of it, and laid face down on the table.

Annika placed her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She might do this. She knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.

His voice came smothered from below after several minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not be shy.

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He stiffened to full mast at the really first brush of her fingertips.

” Oh, that’s perfect. I’m going to turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.

She followed. She was proficient at following instructions. She shocked when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. Just slide all over me, there you go.

Her mind was blank. Annika moved and wriggled, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. She already knew how to drive a male insane. There was one thing left to discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that stunning …” He needs to have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.

Facing towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on complete display.

” Oh, delicious,” he purred once again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt absurd, uncomfortable, even traitorous. A toy for guys with disposable income under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

But mostly, she felt clashed. Since she likewise understood how much power she held. This was a place where customers spent for the benefit of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

” That’s an excellent lady. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving much faster.

He gripped her thighs and released with one last sigh. And it was over.

At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 cash in her hand. It was enough to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.