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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the world of individual services, however they informed her she could and ought to pass for more youthful.
So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Marketable to a large range of tastes.
In other words? Lucrative.
Selling yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t understand she ‘d end up being a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t just safeguard her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe distance, praying each time she had actually come out with her self-respect intact.
This was only short-lived, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished 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 advertisement?”.
The buzzer sounded. She pushed the door open up to a long narrow hallway lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later, when asked what she imagined discovering there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that corridor didn’t result in one.
Later on, when asked why she remained a full week once she knew what it was about, her reply came easily:.
” For the cash, naturally.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anybody.
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Her first customer, a white male in his 40s, offered some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look nice,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of a/c, trembling in her four-inch heels, but possibly it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s start? Do not worry, I’ll stroll you through it.”.
In the middle of the room stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. However this table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.
” Grab some of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, good and easy.”.
He removed his clothing, 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 offer a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came stifled from below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.
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He stiffened to full mast at the really first brush of her fingertips.
” Oh, that’s perfect. 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 shocked.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look tasty. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Simply slide all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so sexy …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika twisted and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. She already knew 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. Show me that lovely …” He must have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.
Facing toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on full display screen.
” Oh, delicious,” he purred once again. “It’s a stunning view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel yummy; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, uncomfortable, even traitorous. A plaything for males with non reusable earnings under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.
However mostly, she felt conflicted. Since she also recognized how much power she held. This was a place where customers spent for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.
” That’s an excellent woman. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving quicker.
He grasped her thighs and launched 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 persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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