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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the world of personal services, however they informed her she could and need to pass for more youthful.

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old enough to consume, likely a university graduate (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and preferable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.

To put it simply? Successful.

Selling yourself was legal here, to lower it to simple terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work personality.

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

This was only temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wanted to accomplish thereafter.

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 pushed 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 on, when asked what she envisioned finding there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t result in one.

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

” For the money, obviously.”.

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

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

” You look good,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie 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 fret, I’ll stroll 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 strange difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

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

He eliminated his clothes, 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 knew how to give a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s great.” 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, don’t be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.

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He stiffened to complete mast at the very 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 followed. She was proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she stunned.

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

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

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

Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on complete display screen.

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

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

However mostly, she felt contrasted. Since she also recognized how much power she held. This was a location where clients paid for the privilege of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

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

He gripped her thighs and launched with one final 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.