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

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to consume, likely a university graduate (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.

Simply put? Profitable.

Offering yourself was legal here, to minimize 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 become a product called Annika *, the name she gave to her new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe distance, praying each time she ‘d brought out her dignity undamaged.

This was just short-term, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wished to achieve afterwards.

On a cool September night in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed 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 called. She pushed the door open up to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she pictured discovering there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t cause one.

Later on, when asked why she remained a full week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came quickly:.

” For the cash, obviously.”.

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

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Her first consumer, a white male in his 40s, provided some much-needed on-the-job training.

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

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

” So, let’s begin? Don’t stress, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill 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 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

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

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

Annika put 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.

” Yeah, that’s excellent.” His voice came stifled from listed below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not be shy. Slowly. Yes, just like that …”.

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

” Oh, that’s perfect. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.

She followed. She was good at following instructions. She startled when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look delicious. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, baby, that’s so attractive …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika writhed and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She currently understood how to drive a male crazy. There was one thing left to learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Show me that gorgeous …” He should have seen the search her face, since he added, “Don’t worry, 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 full display screen.

” Oh, yummy,” he purred again. “It’s a lovely view, sweetie. Keep going.”.

She didn’t feel yummy; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt absurd, awkward, even traitorous.

However mainly, she felt conflicted. Because she also understood how much power she held. This was a location where consumers paid for the privilege of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

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

He grasped her thighs and released with one final sigh. And it was over.

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