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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the realm of individual services, but they told her she might and need to pass for younger.
That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some measure of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, flexible, and desirable. Marketable to a large range of tastes.
To put it simply? Rewarding.
Offering yourself was legal here, to lower it to simple terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled 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 protected her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d come out with her dignity undamaged.
This was just temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wanted to achieve afterwards.
On a cool September evening 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 rang. She pushed the door available to a long narrow hallway lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the right wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later, when asked what she envisioned finding there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that corridor didn’t lead to one.
Later, when asked why she remained a full week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.
” For the money, obviously.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anybody.
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Her very first customer, a white male in his 40s, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look good,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is really pretty.”.
She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, trembling in her four-inch heels, however perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s start? Don’t stress, I’ll walk you through it.”.
In the middle of the space 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 (along with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: 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 begin with a back massage, easy and great.”.
He removed his clothing, all of it, and laid face down on the table.
Annika put her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She could do this. She knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s excellent.” His voice came smothered from below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy. Slowly. Yes, easily …”.
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He stiffened to full mast at the extremely 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 obeyed. She was good at following directions. She shocked when he tapped her wrist.
” 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, do not hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so hot …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika wriggled and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She already understood how to drive a man insane. But there was one thing delegated find out.
” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that stunning …” He should have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.
Facing towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on full screen.
” Oh, tasty,” he purred once again. “It’s a lovely view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel yummy; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, self-conscious, even traitorous. A toy for guys with disposable earnings under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.
However mainly, she felt conflicted. Since she likewise 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, after all.
” That’s a great woman. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving much faster.
He grasped her thighs and launched 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 persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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