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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the world of personal services, however they told her she could and ought to pass for more youthful.
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 (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, flexible, and preferable. Marketable to a large range of tastes.
To put it simply? Lucrative.
Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to easy terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe distance, praying each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.
This was only short-lived, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped to accomplish afterwards.
On a cool September night in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pressed 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 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 left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later, when asked what she pictured finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that corridor didn’t cause one.
Later, when asked why she remained a full week once she understood what it was about, her reply came easily:.
” For the money, obviously.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even need 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 good,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is truly quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of a/c, trembling in her four-inch heels, however perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s start? Don’t stress, I’ll stroll you through it.”.
In the middle of the space stood what looked like a run-of-the-mill 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 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 simple.”.
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 might do this. She knew how to offer a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came smothered from listed below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t 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. She stunned when he tapped her wrist.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove 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 hot …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika moved and wriggled, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She already understood how to drive a guy crazy. But there was something delegated learn.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He needs to have seen the look on her face, because he added, “Don’t worry, I will not touch you there.”.
Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so somewhat, her intimate parts on complete display screen.
” Oh, delicious,” he purred again. “It’s a beautiful view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt ridiculous, uncomfortable, even traitorous. A toy for men with non reusable income under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.
Mainly, she felt contrasted. Because she also realized how much power she held. This was a place where consumers paid for the benefit of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger.
” That’s an excellent girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving quicker.
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 convince her to accept the next walk-in.
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