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She was 27 the day she accepted her first task in the realm of personal services, however they informed her she might and should pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old adequate to drink, likely a university graduate (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

To put it simply? Lucrative.

Offering yourself was legal here, to lower it to simple terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she walked in. She didn’t know she ‘d become an item named Annika *, the name she offered to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only safeguard her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe distance, praying each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.

This was just short-lived, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wished 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 rang. She pressed 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, when asked what she imagined finding there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t result in one.

Later on, when asked why she remained a complete week once she knew 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 anyone.

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

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

She shivered under the blast of a/c, trembling in her four-inch heels, but possibly it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s begin? Don’t stress, I’ll stroll 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 material, with a hole at one end. However this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a second 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, simple and nice.”.

He removed 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 provide a back massage, no problem.

His voice came stifled from listed below after numerous minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy.

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He stiffened to full mast at the really 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 obeyed. She was proficient at following directions. When he tapped her wrist, she shocked.

” 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, don’t hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so sexy …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika slid and squirmed, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. She currently understood how to drive a man crazy. However there was one thing delegated discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He must have seen the search her face, because he included, “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 somewhat, her intimate parts on full screen.

” Oh, yummy,” he purred again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t wished to be. Instead, she felt ludicrous, uncomfortable, even traitorous. A toy for males with non reusable earnings under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

Mostly, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she also understood how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the advantage of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger.

” That’s a good lady. Finish 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 money in her hand. It sufficed to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.