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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the realm 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 measure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

Simply put? Successful.

Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to easy 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 end up being an item named Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t just protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, praying each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.

This was just temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped to achieve 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 advertisement?”.

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 thought of discovering there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that corridor didn’t lead to one.

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

” For the money, naturally.”.

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

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Her first client, 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 actually quite.”.

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

” So, let’s get going? Do not fret, I’ll stroll 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. But this table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a 2nd 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, great and simple.”.

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 could do this. She understood how to provide a back massage, no problem.

His voice came stifled from listed below after a number of minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach 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 turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.

She followed. She was proficient at following directions. 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 yummy. Just move all over me, there you go.

Annika squirmed and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses 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. Program me that beautiful …” He must have seen the look on 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 display.

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

She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt outrageous, awkward, even traitorous.

However primarily, she felt clashed. Because she also realized just how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the benefit of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

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

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 convince her to accept the next walk-in.