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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the world of personal services, but they told her she might and need to pass for younger.
That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (indicating some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and preferable. Valuable to a wide variety of tastes.
To put it simply? Lucrative.
Selling yourself was legal here, to lower it to easy 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 become a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work personality.
This pseudonym didn’t just protect her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe range, hoping each time she had actually come out with her dignity intact.
This was just temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped to achieve afterwards.
On a cool September evening 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 advertisement?”.
The buzzer sounded. She pressed the door open up to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later, when asked what she thought of discovering there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that corridor didn’t lead to one.
Later on, when asked why she remained a complete week once she understood what it was about, her reply came quickly:.
” For the cash, obviously.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anybody.
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Her first client, a white male in his 40s, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look nice,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly 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 walk you through it.”.
In the middle of the space stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. However this table (together with all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body 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 clothes, all of it, and laid face down on the table.
Annika placed 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 stifled 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 really first brush of her fingertips.
” Oh, that’s perfect. I’m going to turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.
She complied with. She was proficient at following directions. She startled when he tapped her wrist.
” 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, don’t hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply slide all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so attractive …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika wriggled and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She currently knew how to drive a male crazy. But there was one thing left to learn.
” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Program me that lovely …” He should have seen the look on her face, since 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 somewhat, her intimate parts on complete screen.
” Oh, yummy,” he purred once again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt ridiculous, uneasy, even traitorous. A toy for men with disposable earnings under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.
However mostly, she felt contrasted. Since she also realized how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the opportunity of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger.
” That’s a great woman. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving quicker.
He gripped her thighs and released with one final sigh. And it was over.
At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 money in her hand. It was enough to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.
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