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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the realm of individual services, but they informed her she might and ought to pass for more youthful.

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (showing some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.

Simply put? Rewarding.

Offering yourself was legal here, to decrease it to simple terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the very 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 persona.

This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, hoping each time she had actually come out with her self-respect undamaged.

This was just short-lived, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to accomplish 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 called. She pressed the door open up 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 pictured finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate 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 easily:.

” For the cash, of course.”.

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

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

” You look good,” 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, but perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s start? Don’t stress, 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. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, simple and nice.”.

He eliminated his clothes, 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 understood how to offer a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came muffled from below after a number of minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Slowly. Yes, just like that …”.

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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 complied with. She was proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she surprised.

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

Annika slid and winced, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Program me that stunning …” He should have seen the search her face, since he added, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.

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

” Oh, tasty,” he purred once again. “It’s a stunning view, sweetie. Keep going.”.

She didn’t feel yummy; she had not desired to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, uncomfortable, even traitorous.

However primarily, she felt contrasted. Since she also understood just how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the opportunity of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

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

He grasped her thighs and released with one final sigh. And it was over.

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