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

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (showing some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

Simply put? Successful.

Offering yourself was legal here, to lower 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 become an item named Annika *, the name she provided to her new work persona.

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

This was just short-lived, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wanted to achieve thereafter.

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 rang. She pressed the door open 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, when asked what she envisioned finding there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t lead to one.

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

” For the money, naturally.”.

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

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

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

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

” So, let’s get going? Don’t worry, 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 product, with a hole at one end. However this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

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

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 knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s excellent.” His voice came smothered from below after several minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Slowly. Yes, easily …”.

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He stiffened to complete mast at the very first brush of her fingertips.

” Oh, that’s ideal. I’m going to turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.

She complied with. She was proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she stunned.

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

Her mind was blank. Annika moved and squirmed, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She currently understood how to drive a man crazy. 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 gorgeous …” He should have seen the search her face, since he included, “Don’t fret, I will not touch you there.”.

Dealing with towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on full display screen.

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, uneasy, even traitorous.

However mostly, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she likewise realized how much power she held. This was a place where customers paid for the privilege of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger.

” That’s a good girl. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving much 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 convince her to accept the next walk-in.