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

So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a vast array of tastes.

To put it simply? Profitable.

Selling yourself was legal here, to minimize it to easy terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d end up being an item called Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only secure her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe distance, praying each time she had actually come out with her dignity intact.

This was just temporary, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wished to accomplish thereafter.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed 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 pushed 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 pictured discovering there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that hallway didn’t result in one.

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

” For the cash, obviously.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even have 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 great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is really pretty.”.

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

” So, let’s begin? Don’t fret, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what looked like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. But this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso 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 removed his clothing, 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 knew how to give 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 in between my legs, do not be shy.

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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 turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.

She complied with. She was good at following directions. She surprised 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, do not hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply slide all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so attractive …”.

Annika slid 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 search her face, since he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you there.”.

Facing towards his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on full display screen.

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

She didn’t feel yummy; she had not desired to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

However mostly, she felt clashed. Because she likewise realized how much power she held. This was a location where customers paid for the advantage of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

” That’s a good girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving quicker.

He gripped 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.