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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the world of personal services, however they told her she could and should pass for more youthful.
That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some step of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and preferable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.
Simply put? Lucrative.
Selling yourself was legal here, to reduce 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 end up being an item called Annika *, the name she provided to her new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe range, praying each time she had actually come out with her dignity undamaged.
This was just short-lived, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to accomplish thereafter.
On a cool September night 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 ad?”.
The buzzer sounded. 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. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later, when asked what she imagined discovering there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that corridor 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 quickly:.
” For the cash, 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 consumer, 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 really quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, trembling in her four-inch heels, but possibly it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s get going? Do not fret, I’ll walk you through it.”.
In the middle of the room stood what looked like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. However this table (in addition to 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 in between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, easy and nice.”.
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.
His voice came smothered from listed below after a number of 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 complete mast at the extremely first brush of her fingertips.
” Oh, that’s perfect. 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 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 be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Just move all over me, there you go. Oh, baby, that’s so sexy …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika twisted and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. She already understood how to drive a male insane. But there was something left to discover.
” 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 search her face, because he included, “Don’t fret, I will not touch you there.”.
Facing toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on complete display screen.
” Oh, tasty,” he purred again. “It’s a beautiful view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t desired to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, uncomfortable, even traitorous.
But primarily, she felt conflicted. Since she also realized just how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.
” That’s a great girl. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving faster.
He gripped her thighs and released with one final 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.
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