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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 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 (suggesting some step of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and preferable. Marketable to a large range of tastes.

In other words? Profitable.

Offering 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 walked in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item named Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work personality.

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

This was only short-term, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to achieve afterwards.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed 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 sounded. She pressed the door open up to a long narrow corridor 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 imagined discovering there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t result in one.

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

” For the cash, of course.”.

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

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

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

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

” So, let’s get started? Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what appeared like an ordinary 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 strange distinction: 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, simple and good.”.

He eliminated his clothing, 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 knew how to offer a back massage, no problem.

His voice came muffled from below after numerous minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not be shy.

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

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

She followed. She was proficient at following directions. She startled when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. 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, child, that’s so sexy …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika writhed and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. 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 up back up here. Program me that beautiful …” He must have seen the search her face, because he added, “Don’t fret, I will not touch you there.”.

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

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

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt ludicrous, uneasy, even traitorous. A plaything for males with non reusable earnings under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

However mostly, she felt clashed. Since she likewise realized how much power she held. This was a location where clients paid for the advantage of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger.

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

He gripped her thighs and launched with one final 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.