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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of personal services, however they informed her she could and need to pass for younger.

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, flexible, and desirable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.

In other words? Successful.

Selling yourself was legal here, to decrease it to easy terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become a product named Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She might detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, praying each time she had actually brought out her dignity undamaged.

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

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed the call button beside 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 rang. She pushed the door open to a long narrow hallway lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the ideal wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she envisioned discovering there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t lead to one.

Later, when asked why she stayed a complete week once she knew what it was about, her reply came easily:.

” For the cash, naturally.”.

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

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Her 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 really pretty.”.

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

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

In the middle of the space stood what looked like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. But this table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She complied with. She was proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she shocked.

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

Annika agonized and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. 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 gorgeous …” He needs to have seen the search her face, since he included, “Don’t stress, I won’t touch you there.”.

Facing toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on full display screen.

” Oh, tasty,” he purred again. “It’s a beautiful view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.

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

However primarily, she felt clashed. Because she likewise understood just how much power she held. This was a location where consumers spent for the privilege of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

” That’s an excellent girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving quicker.

He grasped her thighs and launched with one last sigh. And it was over.

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