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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the world of individual services, but they told her she could and ought to pass for younger.
That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (showing some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.
To put it simply? Successful.
Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being a product named Annika *, the name she offered to her brand-new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d come out with her dignity intact.
This was just short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to achieve afterwards.
On a cool September night in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed the call button next to an unmarked metal door. A female voice crackled through the speaker: “Hello.”.
” Hi, I’m here for the interview? From the Craigslist ad?”.
The buzzer rang. She pushed the door open up to a long narrow hallway lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the ideal wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later, when asked what she imagined finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that hallway didn’t cause one.
Later, when asked why she stayed a full week once she knew what it was about, her reply came quickly:.
” For the money, naturally.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anyone.
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Her very first customer, 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 truly pretty.”.
She shivered under the blast of a/c, trembling in her four-inch heels, however maybe it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s get started? Do not worry, 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. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a second 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, simple and good.”.
He removed his clothing, all of it, and laid face down on the table.
Annika positioned her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She could do this. She understood how to provide a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came smothered from below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Gradually. Yes, just like that …”.
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He stiffened to full mast at the very first brush of her fingertips.
” Oh, that’s ideal. I’m going to turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.
She followed. She was proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she startled.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. Simply move all over me, there you go.
Her mind was blank. Annika slid and winced, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. She already understood how to drive a male crazy. But there was one thing delegated find out.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Program me that stunning …” He should have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t worry, I will not touch you there.”.
Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on full screen.
” Oh, tasty,” he purred again. “It’s a stunning view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel delicious; she had not desired to be. Rather, she felt absurd, uneasy, even traitorous.
But mostly, she felt contrasted. Because she likewise recognized just how much power she held. This was a location where consumers paid for the opportunity of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger.
” That’s an excellent girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving 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 cash in her hand. It sufficed to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.
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