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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the world of individual services, but they informed her she could and ought to pass for younger.
So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal 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. Marketable to a wide range of tastes.
In other words? Rewarding.
Selling yourself was legal here, to minimize it to basic terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d end up being an item called Annika *, the name she gave to her brand-new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only secure 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 had actually brought out her self-respect intact.
This was just short-lived, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped to accomplish afterwards.
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 sounded. She pushed 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 finding there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that corridor didn’t result in one.
Later on, when asked why she remained a complete week once she knew what it was about, her reply came easily:.
” For the cash, naturally.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anyone.
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Her very first customer, a white male in his 40s, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.
” You look nice,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is truly pretty.”.
She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, trembling in her four-inch heels, but perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s get going? Don’t stress, 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. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.
” Grab some of the oil. Warm it in between your hands. We’ll start with a back massage, great and simple.”.
He eliminated his clothes, all of it, and laid face down on the table.
Annika positioned her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She could do this. She understood how to offer a back massage, no problem.
” Yeah, that’s excellent.” His voice came muffled from listed below after a number of 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 perfect. I’m going to reverse 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 tasty. Get on the table, that’s it, do not hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, baby, that’s so sexy …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika agonized and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She already knew how to drive a male insane. There was one thing left to discover.
” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that stunning …” He must have seen the look on her face, because he added, “Don’t fret, I won’t touch you there.”.
Facing toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on complete display screen.
” Oh, tasty,” he purred again. “It’s a lovely view, sweetheart. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel yummy; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, awkward, even traitorous. A toy for males with disposable income under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.
Mainly, she felt clashed. Since she also understood just how much power she held. This was a location where customers spent for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.
” That’s an excellent girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving faster.
He gripped her thighs and released 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 encourage her to accept the next walk-in.
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