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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the realm of individual services, but they told her she might and should pass for more youthful.

So, that week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (indicating some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.

In other words? Profitable.

Selling yourself was legal here, to reduce it to easy terms, although she didn’t understand 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 new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t just protect her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe distance, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her dignity intact.

This was only short-lived, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped 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 ad?”.

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 on, when asked what she imagined discovering there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t result in one.

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

” For the cash, naturally.”.

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

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

” You look great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is actually quite.”.

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

” So, let’s start? Do not stress, I’ll walk 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 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 between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, easy and nice.”.

He eliminated his clothes, all of it, and laid face down on the table.

Annika put 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 good.” His voice came smothered from below after several minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.

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He stiffened to full 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 followed. She was good at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she stunned.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. Get on the table, that’s it, do not hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, baby, that’s so attractive …”.

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

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Show me that stunning …” He must have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you there.”.

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

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt absurd, awkward, even traitorous.

However mainly, she felt contrasted. Since she also realized how much power she held. This was a location where clients paid for the opportunity 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 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 convince her to accept the next walk-in.