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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the world of personal services, but they informed her she might and must pass for more youthful.

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old adequate to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some step of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.

In other words? Lucrative.

Selling yourself was legal here, to minimize it to simple 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 become a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t just safeguard her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might remove, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe range, hoping each time she had actually brought out her dignity intact.

This was only short-lived, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to accomplish thereafter.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed 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 ideal wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later, when asked what she pictured discovering there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t result in one.

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

” For the cash, of course.”.

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

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

” You look nice,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is really quite.”.

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

” So, let’s start? Don’t worry, 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 product, with a hole at one end. However this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: 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 begin with a back massage, good 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 understood how to give a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came smothered from listed below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Gradually. 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 turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep playing with me.”.

She complied with. She was good at following instructions. 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 tasty. Simply slide all over me, there you go.

Annika moved and twisted, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to learn.

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

Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on complete display.

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

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, self-conscious, even traitorous. A toy for guys with disposable earnings under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.

However mostly, she felt contrasted. Due to the fact that she likewise realized how much power she held. This was a location where consumers spent for the privilege of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

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

He grasped 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 was enough to convince her to accept the next walk-in.