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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the realm of personal services, but they told her she could and need to pass for younger.

So, that week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to consume, likely a university graduate (indicating some step of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.

Simply put? Successful.

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 walked in. She didn’t know she ‘d become a product named Annika *, the name she offered to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t only safeguard her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might remove, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe distance, praying each time she had actually brought out her dignity intact.

This was only temporary, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wanted to accomplish thereafter.

On a cool September night in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed 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 rang. She pressed the door open to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the right wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she imagined finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that hallway didn’t result in one.

Later, when asked why she remained a full week once she understood what it was about, her reply came easily:.

” 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, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.

” You look great,” 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 perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s get started? Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what appeared like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange 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 start with a back massage, simple and nice.”.

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 could do this. She knew how to give a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came stifled from listed below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy. Slowly. Yes, easily …”.

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He stiffened to complete mast at the really 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 good at following instructions. She shocked 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 move all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so sexy …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika slid and squirmed, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She already knew how to drive a guy crazy. But there was one thing left to find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Show me that beautiful …” He should have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t worry, I will not touch you there.”.

Facing toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on complete display.

” Oh, yummy,” he purred again. “It’s a beautiful view, sweetie. Keep going.”.

She didn’t feel yummy; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

However mostly, she felt clashed. Since she likewise understood just how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the opportunity of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger.

” That’s a good girl. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving much faster.

He gripped her thighs and released with one last sigh. And it was over.

At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 money in her hand. It was enough to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.