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

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 (suggesting some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, flexible, and preferable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

To put it simply? Rewarding.

Offering yourself was legal here, to decrease it to basic 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 a product called Annika *, the name she gave to her new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe range, praying each time she had actually brought out her dignity undamaged.

This was only short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped to achieve thereafter.

On a cool September night 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 ad?”.

The buzzer called. She pressed the door open up to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the right wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she thought of finding there, she truthfully 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 on, when asked why she remained a complete week once she knew what it was about, her reply came quickly:.

” For the cash, obviously.”.

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

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

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

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

” So, let’s begin? Do not worry, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill 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 distinction: a second hole, right where one’s lower upper body 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 might do this. She understood how to provide a back massage, no problem.

His voice came smothered from listed below after several 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 full mast at the very first brush of her fingertips.

” Oh, that’s ideal. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.

She followed. She was proficient at following directions. 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 tasty. Just move all over me, there you go.

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

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

Facing towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on full screen.

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

She didn’t feel yummy; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt ludicrous, awkward, even traitorous.

Mainly, she felt contrasted. Since she also recognized just how much power she held. This was a location where clients paid for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger.

” That’s a good woman. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving quicker.

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.