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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the world of individual services, but they informed her she might and need to pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to consume, likely a university graduate (suggesting some step of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.

To put it simply? Successful.

Selling yourself was legal here, to decrease it to easy terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she walked in. She didn’t know she ‘d become a product called Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t just protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d come out with her dignity undamaged.

This was only temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wished to achieve afterwards.

On a cool September night 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 rang. 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 envisioned finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t result in one.

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

” For the money, obviously.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even need 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 lingerie is truly quite.”.

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

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

In the middle of the room stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill 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 distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

” Grab some of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, easy and good.”.

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 knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.

His voice came smothered from below after several minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy.

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He stiffened to complete mast at the very first brush of her fingertips.

” Oh, that’s perfect. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.

She followed. She was proficient at following directions. 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 yummy. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Simply slide all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so sexy …”.

Annika slid and squirmed, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to find out.

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

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

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

She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt ludicrous, uncomfortable, even traitorous.

Primarily, she felt contrasted. Since she also recognized how much power she held. This was a location where customers spent for the opportunity of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

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

He grasped her thighs and launched with one last 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.