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

So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Marketable to a large range of tastes.

Simply put? Profitable.

Selling yourself was legal here, to decrease it to basic terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become an item named Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe distance, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.

This was just momentary, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to achieve 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 ad?”.

The buzzer sounded. She pushed the door open to a long narrow hallway lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the ideal wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she imagined finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t lead to one.

Later, when asked why she stayed a full week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came quickly:.

” For the cash, 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 client, 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 underwear is actually quite.”.

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

” So, let’s start? Do not stress, 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. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a second 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, nice and simple.”.

He removed 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 might do this. She understood how to give a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came stifled from below after a number of minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not be shy. Slowly. Yes, just like that …”.

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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 turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.

She obeyed. She was proficient at following directions. When he tapped her wrist, she shocked.

” 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. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so attractive …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika twisted and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She currently understood how to drive a guy crazy. There was one thing left to learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He needs to have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.

Dealing with towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on full display screen.

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

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t wished to be. Instead, she felt absurd, awkward, even traitorous. A toy for guys with non reusable income under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

Mainly, she felt contrasted. Due to the fact that she likewise understood just how much power she held. This was a location where consumers paid for the benefit of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

” That’s a great girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving much faster.

He grasped her thighs and released 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 convince her to accept the next walk-in.