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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the realm of personal services, but they informed her she could and should pass for more youthful.

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

In other words? Profitable.

Offering yourself was legal here, to minimize it to simple terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item called Annika *, the name she offered to her new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe range, praying each time she had actually come out with her self-respect undamaged.

This was only temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wanted to accomplish afterwards.

On a cool September night in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed 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 up to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best 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 response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t lead to one.

Later on, when asked why she stayed 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 need to fuck anyone.

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

” You look great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly pretty.”.

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? Do not worry, 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. However this table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a 2nd 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, simple and good.”.

He eliminated his clothes, all of it, and laid face down on the table.

Annika put her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She might do this. She knew how to offer a back massage, no problem.

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

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He stiffened to full mast at the really 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 obeyed. She was good at following directions. When he tapped her wrist, she shocked.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look tasty. Get on the table, that’s it, do not be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, baby, that’s so attractive …”.

Annika agonized and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Program me that stunning …” He needs to have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you there.”.

Dealing with towards 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 stunning view, sweetie. Keep going.”.

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wished to be. Instead, she felt outrageous, self-conscious, even traitorous. A plaything for guys with disposable earnings under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

Mostly, she felt clashed. Since she likewise understood just how much power she held. This was a place where customers spent for the privilege of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

” That’s an excellent lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving faster.

He gripped her thighs and released with one last sigh. And it was over.

At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 money in her hand. It was enough to convince her to accept the next walk-in.