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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the realm of individual services, however they informed her she might and should pass for more youthful.
That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to consume, likely a university graduate (showing some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, flexible, and preferable. Marketable to a vast array of tastes.
Simply put? Profitable.
Selling yourself was legal here, to decrease it to easy terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become an item called Annika *, the name she provided to her new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe distance, hoping each time she ‘d come out with her dignity intact.
This was just momentary, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wished to accomplish afterwards.
On a cool September night 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 corridor 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 imagined discovering there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that corridor 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 quickly:.
” For the cash, naturally.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anyone.
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Her very first customer, a white male in his 40s, provided some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look nice,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is truly quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of a/c, trembling in her four-inch heels, however maybe it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s start? Don’t fret, I’ll stroll you through it.”.
In the middle of the room stood what appeared like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.
” Grab some of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, good and simple.”.
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 give a back massage, no problem.
His voice came muffled 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 complete 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 playing with me.”.
She obeyed. She was good at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she startled.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. Simply slide all over me, there you go.
Annika moved and agonized, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to learn.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Show me that stunning …” He should have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t stress, I won’t touch you there.”.
Facing toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on complete display.
” Oh, yummy,” he purred again. “It’s a stunning view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt absurd, uneasy, even traitorous.
Primarily, she felt conflicted. Since she also recognized just how much power she held. This was a place where clients spent for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.
” That’s a great woman. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving quicker.
He gripped her thighs and launched with one final sigh. And it was over.
At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 money in her hand. It was enough to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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