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

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, flexible, and desirable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.

In other words? Lucrative.

Offering yourself was legal here, to minimize it to basic terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become a product called Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might detach, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe range, hoping each time she had actually brought out her self-respect undamaged.

This was only temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to accomplish 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 rang. She pushed the door open to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the right wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later on, when asked what she imagined 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 hallway didn’t cause one.

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

” For the money, of course.”.

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

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Her first customer, a white male in his 40s, provided some much-needed on-the-job training.

” You look great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is truly pretty.”.

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

” So, let’s get started? Do not fret, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what looked 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 distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, nice and easy.”.

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.

” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came smothered from below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Slowly. Yes, just like that …”.

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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 playing with me.”.

She complied with. She was proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she surprised.

” 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 hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so hot …”.

Annika moved and winced, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. 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 beautiful …” He should have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t stress, I won’t touch you there.”.

Dealing with towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on complete screen.

” Oh, tasty,” he purred once again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetie. Keep going.”.

She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt ludicrous, uneasy, even traitorous.

Mostly, she felt clashed. Because she likewise realized just how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the benefit of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

” That’s a good woman. 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 was enough to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.