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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 must pass for more youthful.

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old enough to consume, likely a university graduate (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.

In other words? Lucrative.

Offering yourself was legal here, to decrease it to basic terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t only secure her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe distance, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her dignity undamaged.

This was only short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to accomplish afterwards.

On a cool September evening 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 rang. 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, when asked what she envisioned finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t result in one.

Later, when asked why she stayed a complete week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.

” For the money, naturally.”.

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

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

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

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

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

In the middle of the room stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. However this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

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

He eliminated 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 give 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 move 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 best. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.

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

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

Her mind was blank. Annika moved and agonized, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She already knew how to drive a man crazy. There was one thing left to find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Show me that gorgeous …” He needs to have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t fret, I won’t touch you there.”.

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

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

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

However mainly, she felt contrasted. Since she likewise realized just how much power she held. This was a location where consumers paid for the privilege of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

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

He grasped her thighs and launched with one final 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.