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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the realm of individual services, however they told 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 sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (suggesting some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, flexible, and preferable. Marketable to a wide range of tastes.

Simply put? Rewarding.

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

This pseudonym didn’t only safeguard her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She might remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, hoping each time she had actually brought out her self-respect intact.

This was only short-lived, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wanted to accomplish thereafter.

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 ad?”.

The buzzer sounded. She pressed the door open to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best wall, closed doors lined the. “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 promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t cause one.

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

” For the money, naturally.”.

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

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

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

In the middle of the room stood what looked like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. However this table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: a second 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, nice and easy.”.

He eliminated his clothing, all of it, and laid face down on the table.

Annika put her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She might do this. She knew how to give a back massage, no problem.

His voice came stifled from below after several minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy.

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He stiffened to full 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 playing with me.”.

She followed. 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 tasty. Simply slide all over me, there you go.

Her mind was blank. Annika writhed and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She already knew how to drive a man crazy. However there was one thing delegated discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Program me that lovely …” He needs to have seen the search her face, since he added, “Don’t worry, 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 gorgeous view, sweetie. Keep going.”.

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wished to be. Instead, she felt outrageous, uneasy, even traitorous. A plaything for guys with disposable income under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

Mainly, she felt conflicted. Since she also understood just how much power she held. This was a place where consumers spent for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

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

He grasped her thighs and released 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.