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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of individual services, however they informed 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 sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and preferable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.

In other words? Successful.

Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to easy terms, although she didn’t recognize 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 gave to her new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only secure her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She could separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her dignity undamaged.

This was just short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t specify 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 sounded. She pressed the door open to a long narrow hallway lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later, when asked what she pictured discovering there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant 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 quickly:.

” For the cash, of course.”.

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

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

” You look good,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is actually pretty.”.

She shivered under the blast of a/c, shivering in her four-inch heels, however possibly it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s start? Don’t worry, 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 peculiar distinction: 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, great and simple.”.

He eliminated his clothing, 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 smothered from below after a number of 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 complete 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 proficient at following instructions. She stunned when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look delicious. Simply move all over me, there you go.

Annika winced and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to learn.

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

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

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she had not desired to be. Instead, she felt ludicrous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

Mainly, she felt contrasted. Since she also understood just how much power she held. This was a location where clients paid for the privilege of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

” That’s a good woman. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on 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.