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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of personal services, but they told her she could and ought to pass for more youthful.
That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old enough to consume, likely a university graduate (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.
Simply put? Rewarding.
Selling yourself was legal here, to decrease it to simple 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 end up being a product called Annika *, the name she gave to her new work personality.
This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe distance, hoping each time she had actually come out with her self-respect intact.
This was just momentary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and intended to accomplish thereafter.
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 called. She pressed 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 envisioned discovering there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that hallway didn’t lead to one.
Later on, when asked why she remained a complete week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.
” For the money, obviously.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anyone.
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Her first client, 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 lingerie is truly quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of a/c, shivering in her four-inch heels, but maybe it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s start? Do not worry, I’ll walk you through it.”.
In the middle of the space stood what looked like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.
” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, simple and nice.”.
He removed his clothes, all of it, and laid face down on the table.
Annika positioned 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 excellent.” His voice came smothered from below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.
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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 complied with. She was good at following instructions. She surprised when he tapped her wrist.
” 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, child, that’s so attractive …”.
Annika moved and twisted, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to discover.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that stunning …” He must have seen the search her face, because 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 full screen.
” Oh, delicious,” he purred again. “It’s a lovely view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, uneasy, even traitorous.
But mainly, she felt clashed. Since she likewise understood just how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid 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 took on a life of their own, moving 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 convince her to accept the next walk-in.
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