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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the world of individual services, however they told her she might and must pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old adequate to drink, likely a university graduate (suggesting some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.

To put it simply? Successful.

Offering yourself was legal here, to lower it to easy 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 a product called Annika *, the name she gave to her 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 viewed from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.

This was only momentary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wished to accomplish afterwards.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed 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 sounded. She pushed the door open to a long narrow hallway 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 thought of finding there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t lead to one.

Later, when asked why she remained a full week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.

” For the cash, obviously.”.

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

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

” You look good,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is really quite.”.

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

” So, let’s get started? Don’t stress, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. However this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: a second hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

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

He eliminated 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 might do this. She knew how to give a back massage, no problem.

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

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He stiffened to full mast at the extremely 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 good at following directions. She stunned when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. 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, infant, that’s so sexy …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika slid and wriggled, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She already 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. Program me that beautiful …” He should have seen the look on her face, since he added, “Don’t stress, I won’t touch you there.”.

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

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

She didn’t feel tasty; she had not desired to be. Rather, she felt ridiculous, uneasy, even traitorous.

Mostly, she felt clashed. Because she also realized just how much power she held. This was a location where consumers paid for the privilege of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

” That’s a good girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving faster.

He gripped 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 was enough to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.