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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the world of individual services, however they told her she could and must 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 (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, flexible, and preferable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.

In other words? Successful.

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

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe range, hoping each time she had actually come out with her self-respect intact.

This was just momentary, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped 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 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, when asked what she envisioned discovering there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that corridor didn’t lead to one.

Later, when asked why she stayed a complete week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.

” For the money, of course.”.

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

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

” You look good,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is truly quite.”.

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

” So, let’s begin? Don’t fret, 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 material, with a hole at one end. But this table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: a second hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, simple and great.”.

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 understood how to give a back massage, no problem.

His voice came muffled from below after a number of minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach 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 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 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 delicious. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, baby, that’s so sexy …”.

Annika moved and wriggled, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts 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 search her face, due to the fact that he included, “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 a little, her intimate parts on complete display screen.

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt ridiculous, uncomfortable, even traitorous.

However mainly, she felt conflicted. Due to the fact that she also understood 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 complete stranger.

” That’s a good lady. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving quicker.

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 sufficed to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.