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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the world of individual services, but they told her she could and should pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, flexible, and preferable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.

In other words? Successful.

Selling yourself was legal here, to minimize it to simple 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 become an item named Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t just protect her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe range, praying each time she ‘d come out with her dignity undamaged.

This was just short-term, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to achieve thereafter.

On a cool September night in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed the call button beside 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 to a long narrow corridor 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 truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that corridor didn’t lead to one.

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

” For the money, obviously.”.

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

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

” You look good,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is actually pretty.”.

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

” So, let’s start? Don’t stress, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. But this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

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

He eliminated his clothes, all of it, and laid face down on the table.

Annika put 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.

His voice came stifled from below after several 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 complete 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 instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she surprised.

” 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, do not be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Simply slide all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so sexy …”.

Annika agonized and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that beautiful …” He needs to have seen the search her face, because he included, “Don’t stress, I won’t 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 complete display screen.

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t desired to be. Instead, she felt ridiculous, uneasy, even traitorous.

However mostly, she felt conflicted. Because she likewise recognized how much power she held. This was a location where clients spent for the opportunity of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

” That’s a great lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving 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 cash in her hand. It sufficed to convince her to accept the next walk-in.