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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 could and ought to pass for more youthful.

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

In other words? Successful.

Selling 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 end up being an item called Annika *, the name she provided 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 come out with her dignity intact.

This was just momentary, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wanted to accomplish thereafter.

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 ad?”.

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 right wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

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

Later on, when asked why she remained a complete 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 anybody.

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Her very 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 actually pretty.”.

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

” So, let’s get going? Don’t stress, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what appeared like an ordinary 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 peculiar distinction: 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 begin with a back massage, simple 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 might do this. She knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came muffled from listed 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, easily …”.

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He stiffened to complete 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 obeyed. She was good at following instructions. She startled when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look tasty. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Just move all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so sexy …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika twisted and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She currently knew how to drive a male crazy. There was one thing left to discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Program me that lovely …” He needs to have seen the look on her face, since he included, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.

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

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

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt ludicrous, awkward, even traitorous. A plaything for guys with non reusable income under the very finely veiled guise of “masseuse”.

However primarily, she felt clashed. Since she also realized how much power she held. This was a place where customers paid for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.

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

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