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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the realm of individual services, however they informed her she could and ought to pass for more youthful.

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some step of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.

To put it simply? 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 walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become a product called Annika *, the name she offered to her brand-new work persona.

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

This was just short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wanted to achieve afterwards.

On a cool September night in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed 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 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. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later, when asked what she pictured discovering there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t lead to one.

Later, when asked why she stayed a full week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.

” For the cash, of course.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anybody.

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

” You look good,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is actually quite.”.

She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, shivering in her four-inch heels, but maybe it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s get started? Don’t stress, 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 material, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange 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, good and easy.”.

He removed his clothes, all of it, and laid face down on the table.

Annika put her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She might do this. She knew how to give a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s excellent.” His voice came muffled from below after a number of minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not be shy. Slowly. Yes, just like that …”.

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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 followed. She was good at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she surprised.

” 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.

Her mind was blank. Annika winced and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She already knew how to drive a man crazy. There was one thing left to discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that gorgeous …” He must have seen the look on her face, since he included, “Don’t stress, I won’t touch you there.”.

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

” Oh, tasty,” he purred once again. “It’s a stunning view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.

She didn’t feel tasty; she had not desired to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, awkward, even traitorous.

Mainly, she felt contrasted. Because she likewise understood how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the opportunity of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

” That’s an excellent girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving much 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 sufficed to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.