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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the world of personal services, however they told her she might and need to pass for younger.

So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (suggesting some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and preferable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

In other words? Successful.

Offering yourself was legal here, to decrease it to basic 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 an item called Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could separate, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d come out with her self-respect undamaged.

This was just momentary, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wished to achieve 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 advertisement?”.

The buzzer rang. She pressed the door open to a long narrow hallway 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 on, when asked what she imagined discovering 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 full week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came easily:.

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

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

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

” So, let’s get going? Don’t 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. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

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

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 knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came stifled from below after several minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go 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 very 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 followed. She was proficient at following directions. When he tapped her wrist, she stunned.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look delicious. Get on the table, that’s it, do not be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Simply slide all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so attractive …”.

Annika slid and twisted, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. 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 must have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you there.”.

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

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

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wished to be. Rather, she felt ridiculous, awkward, even traitorous. A plaything for men with disposable earnings under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

However mainly, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she also recognized how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the privilege of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

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

He grasped her thighs and released with one final sigh. And it was over.

At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 cash in her hand. It sufficed to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.