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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the realm of personal services, but they informed her she could and must pass for more youthful.
So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old sufficient to consume, likely a university graduate (showing some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.
In other words? Rewarding.
Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t realize 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 provided to her brand-new work personality.
This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, hoping each time she had actually come out with her dignity undamaged.
This was just momentary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to achieve 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 rang. She pushed the door available 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 finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t cause one.
Later, when asked why she stayed a complete week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came quickly:.
” For the cash, obviously.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anybody.
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Her very first customer, a white male in his 40s, offered some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look nice,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly pretty.”.
She shivered under the blast of cooling, trembling in her four-inch heels, but perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s begin? Do not worry, 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. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.
” Grab some of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, great and easy.”.
He removed his clothes, 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 offer a back massage, no problem.
His voice came muffled from below after several minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy.
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He stiffened to full 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 obeyed. She was good at following directions. She stunned when he tapped her wrist.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Just move all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so sexy …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika writhed and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She already knew how to drive a male insane. There was one thing left to find out.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that lovely …” He must have seen the search her face, because he added, “Don’t worry, I will not 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 lovely view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel delicious; she had not desired to be. Rather, she felt ridiculous, self-conscious, even traitorous.
Mainly, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she likewise understood how much power she held. This was a place where clients spent for the opportunity of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.
” That’s an excellent girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving faster.
He gripped her thighs and released with one final sigh. And it was over.
At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 cash in her hand. It sufficed to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.
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