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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the realm of individual services, however they told her she could and ought to pass for younger.
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 step of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.
In other words? Rewarding.
Selling yourself was legal here, to lower it to basic terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being an item named Annika *, the name she provided to her new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only secure her on paper– it secured 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 ‘d come out with her dignity intact.
This was only momentary, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to achieve thereafter.
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 rang. She pressed the door open to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the right wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later on, when asked what she imagined discovering there, she truthfully had no answer. 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 understood what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.
” 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, 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 air conditioning, trembling in her four-inch heels, but perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s start? Don’t worry, 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 material, with a hole at one end. 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 a few of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, easy and good.”.
He removed his clothes, all of it, and laid face down on the table.
Annika positioned her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She could do this. She understood how to provide a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came muffled from listed below after a number of minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.
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He stiffened to full mast at the extremely first brush of her fingertips.
” Oh, that’s best. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.
She followed. She was proficient at following directions. She surprised when he tapped her wrist.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so attractive …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika slid and agonized, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She already knew how to drive a male 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 beautiful …” He should have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t fret, I won’t touch you there.”.
Dealing with towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on full display screen.
” Oh, delicious,” he purred once again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wished to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, uncomfortable, even traitorous. A toy for guys with disposable income under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.
But mainly, she felt clashed. Since she also recognized how much power she held. This was a location where clients paid for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger.
” That’s a great lady. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving faster.
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 was enough to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.
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