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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the realm of personal services, however they informed her she might and should pass for younger.

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 procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.

Simply put? Profitable.

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

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe distance, praying each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect undamaged.

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

On a cool September evening 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 called. She pushed the door open to a long narrow hallway 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 discovering there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t cause one.

Later, when asked why she remained a complete week once she knew what it was about, her reply came quickly:.

” For the cash, obviously.”.

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

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

” You look good,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is really quite.”.

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

” So, let’s begin? Don’t worry, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what looked like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. However this table (together with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

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

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 offer 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 in between my legs, don’t be shy.

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He stiffened to full 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 having fun with me.”.

She followed. She was proficient at following instructions. She startled when he tapped her wrist.

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

Her mind was blank. Annika slid and wriggled, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. She currently understood how to drive a man crazy. There was one thing left to find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that beautiful …” He should have seen the look on her face, because he added, “Don’t worry, I will not 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 screen.

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

She didn’t feel yummy; she had not desired to be. Instead, she felt outrageous, uneasy, even traitorous.

However mainly, she felt clashed. Because she also understood just how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

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

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