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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the world of individual services, however they told her she could and should pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

To put it simply? Rewarding.

Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to simple terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being an item named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe distance, hoping each time she had actually come out with her self-respect undamaged.

This was only short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wanted to achieve afterwards.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed 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 called. She pushed the door open up to a long narrow hallway 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 on, when asked what she pictured finding there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t cause one.

Later on, when asked why she remained a complete week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came quickly:.

” For the cash, of course.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even need to fuck anyone.

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Her very first client, a white male in his 40s, supplied 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 a/c, shivering in her four-inch heels, however possibly it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s begin? Don’t stress, 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. 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 give a back massage, no problem.

His voice came stifled from listed below after several minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy.

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He stiffened to full mast at the extremely first brush of her fingertips.

” Oh, that’s best. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.

She complied with. She was good at following directions. 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. Get on the table, that’s it, do not be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Just move all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so sexy …”.

Annika squirmed and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Show me that lovely …” He must have seen the search her face, because he added, “Don’t fret, I will not touch you there.”.

Dealing with towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on full display.

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

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wished to be. Instead, she felt outrageous, uncomfortable, even traitorous. A toy for guys with disposable income under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.

However mostly, she felt conflicted. Since she likewise understood just how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the opportunity of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

” That’s a great lady. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving much faster.

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.