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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of personal services, but they told her she might and need to pass for more youthful.
That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to consume, likely a university graduate (indicating some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.
Simply put? Successful.
Offering 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 walked in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item named Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t just safeguard her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe distance, hoping each time she had actually come out with her self-respect undamaged.
This was just short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped to accomplish afterwards.
On a cool September night 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 advertisement?”.
The buzzer called. She pressed 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 on, when asked what she imagined discovering there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that corridor didn’t lead to one.
Later on, when asked why she stayed a full week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.
” For the money, of course.”.
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, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look good,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of cooling, shivering in her four-inch heels, however maybe it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s get started? Do not stress, I’ll stroll you through it.”.
In the middle of the room stood what looked like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.
” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, great and simple.”.
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 great.” His voice came smothered from below after several 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 complete 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 having fun with me.”.
She obeyed. She was good 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. Simply move all over me, there you go.
Her mind was blank. Annika agonized and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She currently knew how to drive a male insane. 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 gorgeous …” He needs to have seen the search her face, since he included, “Don’t worry, I will not touch you there.”.
Dealing with towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on complete display.
” Oh, tasty,” he purred again. “It’s a lovely view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel yummy; she hadn’t desired to be. Rather, she felt ridiculous, uneasy, even traitorous.
But mainly, she felt contrasted. Because she also recognized just 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 stranger, after all.
” That’s an excellent girl. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving quicker.
He grasped her thighs and released with one last sigh. And it was over.
At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 cash in her hand. It was enough to convince her to accept the next walk-in.
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