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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the world of personal services, however they informed her she could and should pass for younger.

So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (showing some step of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, flexible, and preferable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.

To put it simply? Rewarding.

Offering yourself was legal here, to decrease it to basic terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item called Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.

This was only short-term, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to achieve thereafter.

On a cool September evening 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 advertisement?”.

The buzzer called. She pressed the door available to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the ideal wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she pictured discovering there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t result in one.

Later on, when asked why she remained a complete week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came quickly:.

” For the cash, of course.”.

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

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

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

She shivered under the blast of cooling, shivering in her four-inch heels, however perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.

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

In the middle of the room 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 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 start with a back massage, simple and great.”.

He eliminated his clothing, 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 knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.

His voice came stifled from below after several minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy.

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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 complied with. She was good at following instructions. She startled when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look delicious. Just slide all over me, there you go.

Her mind was blank. Annika slid and winced, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She currently knew how to drive a male insane. However there was one thing left to find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He must have seen the look on her face, because he added, “Don’t fret, I will not touch you there.”.

Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on complete screen.

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt ridiculous, uncomfortable, even traitorous.

But mainly, she felt conflicted. Due to the fact that she also realized just how much power she held. This was a place where customers paid for the opportunity of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

” That’s a good girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving much 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 money in her hand. It sufficed to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.