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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the world of individual services, but they informed her she could and need to pass for more youthful.

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, flexible, and preferable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.

To put it simply? Lucrative.

Selling yourself was legal here, to lower it to simple terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become a product called Annika *, the name she offered to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t just safeguard her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe distance, hoping each time she had actually come out with her self-respect undamaged.

This was just short-lived, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wanted to accomplish thereafter.

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 ad?”.

The buzzer called. She pressed 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 left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she pictured discovering there, she truthfully 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 complete week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.

” For the cash, 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 consumer, a white male in his 40s, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.

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

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

” So, let’s start? Don’t worry, 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. But this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, nice 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 could do this. She understood how to give a back massage, no problem.

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

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

” Oh, that’s ideal. 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 surprised.

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

Annika writhed and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Program me that lovely …” He needs to have seen the look on her face, since he added, “Don’t fret, I will not touch you there.”.

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

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she had not desired to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

Primarily, she felt contrasted. Because she likewise realized how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

” That’s a great girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving quicker.

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

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