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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of personal services, however they told her she might and ought to pass for younger.
That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old adequate to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a wide variety of tastes.
To put it simply? Rewarding.
Selling yourself was legal here, to lower it to easy terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d end up being a product named Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe distance, hoping each time she had actually come out with her self-respect intact.
This was just momentary, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wanted to achieve 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 ad?”.
The buzzer called. She pushed the door open 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 thought of finding there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t cause one.
Later on, when asked why she stayed a complete week once she understood what it was about, her reply came easily:.
” For the money, obviously.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anybody.
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Her first customer, a white male in his 40s, provided some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look good,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is really quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of cooling, trembling in her four-inch heels, but possibly it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s get going? Don’t stress, I’ll stroll you through it.”.
In the middle of the room stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. However this table (together with all the other ones here) had one peculiar 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, nice and easy.”.
He eliminated his clothing, all of it, and laid face down on the table.
Annika positioned her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She might do this. She knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came smothered from below after several minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy. Slowly. Yes, easily …”.
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He stiffened to full mast at the really 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 proficient at following instructions. She surprised when he tapped her wrist.
” 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. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so hot …”.
Annika writhed and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to find out.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He must have seen the search her face, because he included, “Don’t worry, I will not 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 display screen.
” Oh, delicious,” he purred again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel tasty; she had not desired to be. Instead, she felt ridiculous, uneasy, even traitorous.
However mostly, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she also understood just how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the privilege of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger.
” That’s an excellent lady. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving faster.
He grasped 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 sufficed to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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