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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the realm of personal services, however they informed her she might and ought to pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (suggesting some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, flexible, and preferable. Marketable to a wide range of tastes.

To put it simply? Profitable.

Offering yourself was legal here, to lower it to simple terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d end up being a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only secure her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might detach, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her dignity intact.

This was just momentary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to accomplish afterwards.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed 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 called. She pressed the door open to a long narrow hallway 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, when asked what she pictured finding there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t result in one.

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

” For the money, obviously.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anyone.

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Her very first customer, a white male in his 40s, provided some much-needed on-the-job training.

” You look good,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly quite.”.

She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, shivering in her four-inch heels, but maybe it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s get going? Don’t fret, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what appeared 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 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 begin with a back massage, easy and nice.”.

He removed 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 offer a back massage, no problem.

His voice came muffled from below after numerous 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 really 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 good at following instructions. She startled when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look tasty. 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 sexy …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika agonized and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She already understood how to drive a guy insane. There was one thing left to find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He needs to have seen the look on her face, because he added, “Don’t fret, I won’t touch you there.”.

Facing toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on complete display.

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

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

However mostly, she felt clashed. Since she also recognized how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the opportunity of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger.

” That’s a great girl. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving much 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 money in her hand. It was enough to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.