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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the world of personal services, however they told her she could and must pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (showing some measure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.

To put it simply? Lucrative.

Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item called Annika *, the name she offered to her new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t only secure her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could separate, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, praying each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.

This was just short-lived, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and intended to achieve thereafter.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed 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 advertisement?”.

The buzzer called. She pressed the door open to a long narrow hallway 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 pictured discovering there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t result in one.

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

” For the money, naturally.”.

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

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Her first client, 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 actually pretty.”.

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

” So, let’s get going? Do not fret, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what looked like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. However this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

” Grab some of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, great 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 understood how to offer a back massage, no problem.

His voice came stifled from below after several minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy.

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He stiffened to complete mast at the extremely 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 proficient at following instructions. She shocked when he tapped her wrist.

” 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 moved and wriggled, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She already knew how to drive a guy insane. But there was something left to learn.

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

Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on complete display.

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

She didn’t feel yummy; she hadn’t wanted to be. Instead, she felt outrageous, uncomfortable, even traitorous.

Mainly, she felt conflicted. Due to the fact that she likewise recognized how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger.

” That’s a great lady. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving faster.

He gripped 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 persuade her to accept the next walk-in.