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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the realm of individual services, but they informed her she could and need to pass for younger.
That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (showing some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, flexible, and preferable. Valuable to a wide variety of tastes.
In other words? 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 end up being a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only secure her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe distance, praying each time she had actually brought out her dignity undamaged.
This was just short-lived, 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 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 advertisement?”.
The buzzer called. She pressed the door open to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the ideal wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later, when asked what she envisioned 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 cause one.
Later on, when asked why she stayed a full week once she understood what it had to do with, her reply came quickly:.
” For the money, obviously.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anybody.
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Her first customer, a white male in his 40s, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look nice,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is truly pretty.”.
She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, shivering in her four-inch heels, but perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s get started? Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.”.
In the middle of the space stood what appeared like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. But this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.
” Grab some of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, easy and nice.”.
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 could do this. She understood how to offer a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s excellent.” His voice came smothered from listed below after several minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy. Slowly. Yes, easily …”.
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He stiffened to complete 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. When he tapped her wrist, she startled.
” 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 be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so attractive …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika slid and agonized, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She already knew how to drive a man crazy. There was one thing left to discover.
” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He needs to have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.
Dealing with towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on full display screen.
” Oh, tasty,” he purred again. “It’s a beautiful view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wished to be. Instead, she felt ridiculous, uncomfortable, even traitorous. A toy for guys with disposable earnings under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.
However mostly, she felt clashed. Since she likewise realized just how much power she held. This was a place where clients paid for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger.
” That’s a great lady. Finish 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 was enough to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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