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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of individual services, however they told her she could and must pass for more youthful.
So, 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 measure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.
In other words? Lucrative.
Offering 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 walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d end up being an item named Annika *, the name she offered to her new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t just safeguard her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.
This was only momentary, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished 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 called. 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, when asked what she imagined discovering there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that corridor didn’t lead to one.
Later on, when asked why she remained 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 anyone.
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Her first customer, a white male in his 40s, offered some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look great,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly pretty.”.
She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, shivering in her four-inch heels, however maybe 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 an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a second 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 great.”.
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 provide a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came stifled from below after a number of minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.
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He stiffened to full mast at the really 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 obeyed. She was good at following directions. 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 hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Just move all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so hot …”.
Annika slid and squirmed, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to find out.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that lovely …” He must have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t stress, I won’t touch you there.”.
Dealing with towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on full screen.
” Oh, yummy,” he purred again. “It’s a beautiful view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wished to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, uneasy, even traitorous. A plaything for guys with disposable income under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.
However mainly, she felt conflicted. Since she likewise recognized just how much power she held. This was a location where consumers spent for the opportunity of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.
” That’s a great lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving faster.
He grasped her thighs and released with one last sigh. And it was over.
At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 money in her hand. It sufficed to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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Aberdeenshire, Scotland (SC)