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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the world of personal services, but they told her she could and ought to pass for more youthful.
So, that week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old sufficient to consume, likely a university graduate (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Valuable to a wide variety of tastes.
To put it simply? Lucrative.
Selling yourself was legal here, to reduce it to easy terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she walked in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being a product called Annika *, the name she offered to her brand-new work personality.
This pseudonym didn’t just safeguard her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She might remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe range, praying each time she had actually come out with her self-respect undamaged.
This was only temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to accomplish afterwards.
On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed 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 sounded. She pushed the door open up to a long narrow corridor 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 on, when asked what she envisioned finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that corridor didn’t lead to one.
Later on, when asked why she stayed a full week once she knew what it was about, her reply came quickly:.
” For the cash, of course.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anyone.
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Her very first customer, a white male in his 40s, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly pretty.”.
She shivered under the blast of a/c, shivering in her four-inch heels, but possibly it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s begin? Do not worry, I’ll stroll 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. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a second hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.
” Grab some of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, nice and simple.”.
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 could do this. She knew how to give a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came smothered from listed below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Slowly. Yes, just like that …”.
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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 reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.
She complied with. She was proficient at following instructions. 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, do not hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so hot …”.
Annika twisted and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to discover.
” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Show me that stunning …” He must have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t stress, I won’t 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 display.
” Oh, yummy,” he purred again. “It’s a lovely view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, uncomfortable, even traitorous.
But mostly, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she also recognized how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the opportunity of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger.
” That’s a great girl. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving quicker.
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 encourage her to accept the next walk-in.
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