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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the world of personal services, however they told her she could and ought to 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 (suggesting some step of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

In other words? Rewarding.

Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to easy terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become an item named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She might detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe distance, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.

This was just short-lived, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wished 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 pushed 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 thought of finding there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that hallway didn’t result in one.

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

” For the cash, naturally.”.

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

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Her first consumer, 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 quite.”.

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

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

In the middle of the space stood what appeared like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, great and easy.”.

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 provide a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came muffled from listed below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy. Slowly. Yes, just like that …”.

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

” Oh, that’s best. 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 directions. 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 delicious. 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 squirmed, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She currently knew how to drive a guy insane. There was one thing left to discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Show me that lovely …” He must have seen the look on her face, since he included, “Don’t fret, 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 screen.

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

She didn’t feel yummy; she hadn’t wanted to be. Instead, she felt outrageous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

But mostly, she felt contrasted. Due to the fact that she also understood how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger.

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

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 was enough to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.