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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the world of personal services, however they informed her she could and must pass for younger.
So, that week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (showing some step of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, supple, and desirable. Marketable to a large range of tastes.
In other words? Profitable.
Offering yourself was legal here, to minimize 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 become a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t just protect her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe distance, hoping each time she ‘d come out with her dignity intact.
This was only temporary, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to accomplish thereafter.
On a cool September night 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 sounded. She pushed 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. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later on, when asked what she thought of discovering there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that corridor 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 8 days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anybody.
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Her very first customer, a white male in his 40s, offered 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 perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s get started? Do not stress, I’ll walk you through it.”.
In the middle of the room stood what looked like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. However this table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: 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, easy and great.”.
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 might do this. She understood how to offer a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came smothered from listed 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. 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 best. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.
She followed. She was good at following directions. When he tapped her wrist, she shocked.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. 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, baby, that’s so hot …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika moved and agonized, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She already understood how to drive a man crazy. But there was one thing delegated learn.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that gorgeous …” He needs to have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you there.”.
Facing towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on complete display.
” 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, uncomfortable, even traitorous.
However mostly, she felt contrasted. Because she also understood just how much power she held. This was a place where customers paid for the advantage of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.
” That’s an excellent woman. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving much faster.
He grasped her thighs and released 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 encourage her to accept the next walk-in.
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