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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the world of individual services, however they informed her she might and need to pass for younger.
That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (showing some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.
In other words? Lucrative.
Selling yourself was legal here, to lower 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 know she ‘d become an item named Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t just safeguard her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, praying each time she had actually come out with her dignity intact.
This was only momentary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wanted 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 pushed the door available to a long narrow hallway 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 envisioned finding there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that hallway didn’t result in one.
Later, when asked why she remained a full week once she knew what it was about, her reply came easily:.
” For the cash, of course.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anyone.
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Her very first client, a white male in his 40s, offered some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look good,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is really 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 begin? Don’t stress, I’ll stroll 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 material, with a hole at one end. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: 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, simple and nice.”.
He removed his clothing, all of it, and laid face down on the table.
Annika put her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She could do this. She understood how to give a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came stifled from below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.
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He stiffened to full mast at the extremely first brush of her fingertips.
” Oh, that’s perfect. I’m going to turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.
She complied with. She was good at following directions. When he tapped her wrist, she startled.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look delicious. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so attractive …”.
Annika moved and agonized, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to find out.
” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He should have seen the search her face, since he included, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.
Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on complete display screen.
” Oh, tasty,” he purred again. “It’s a lovely view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel delicious; she had not desired to be. Instead, she felt ridiculous, uneasy, even traitorous.
However mostly, she felt conflicted. Because she also understood just how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the advantage of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger.
” That’s a great girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving much faster.
He gripped her thighs and launched with one last 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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