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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the realm of personal services, but they informed her she could and must pass for more youthful.
That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and preferable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.
Simply put? Profitable.
Offering yourself was legal here, to minimize it to simple terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being a product called 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 might detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe distance, praying each time she ‘d come out with her self-respect undamaged.
This was just momentary, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wished to accomplish afterwards.
On a cool September night 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 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 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 response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that hallway didn’t lead to one.
Later on, when asked why she remained a complete week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.
” 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 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 underwear is really pretty.”.
She shivered under the blast of cooling, trembling in her four-inch heels, however possibly it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s begin? Do not stress, I’ll stroll 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. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.
” Grab some of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, simple and good.”.
He removed his clothes, 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 provide a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came smothered from below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy. Gradually. Yes, just like that …”.
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He stiffened to full mast at the very first brush of her fingertips.
” Oh, that’s perfect. I’m going to turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.
She complied with. She was good at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she startled.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Just move all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so hot …”.
Annika slid and wriggled, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to find out.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Show me that stunning …” He should have seen the look on her face, because he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you there.”.
Facing towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on complete display screen.
” Oh, tasty,” he purred again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wanted to be. Instead, she felt ridiculous, uncomfortable, even traitorous.
Mostly, she felt clashed. Since she likewise recognized how much power she held. This was a location where clients spent for the privilege of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.
” That’s a good lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving faster.
He gripped her thighs and launched with one last sigh. And it was over.
At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 cash in her hand. It was enough to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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Cornwall, England (EN)