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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 might and need to pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to consume, likely a university graduate (showing some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Marketable to a large range of tastes.

In other words? Lucrative.

Selling yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She could separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe distance, hoping each time she ‘d come out with her dignity undamaged.

This was just temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wanted to achieve thereafter.

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 pressed the door available 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 finding there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that corridor didn’t lead to one.

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

” For the cash, obviously.”.

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

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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 stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is really quite.”.

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

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

In the middle of the room stood what appeared like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

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

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 knew how to provide 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 go up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.

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

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

She obeyed. She was proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she stunned.

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

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

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

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

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

She didn’t feel yummy; she hadn’t desired to be. Rather, she felt ridiculous, uneasy, even traitorous.

However mainly, she felt contrasted. Due to the fact that she also understood just how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the privilege of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

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

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

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