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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the realm of individual services, but they informed her she might and should pass for younger.
So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some step of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Marketable to a large range of tastes.
In other words? Profitable.
Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become a product named Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only safeguard her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She might detach, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe range, praying each time she had actually come out with her dignity undamaged.
This was just short-lived, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wished to achieve afterwards.
On a cool September night 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 sounded. She pushed the door open to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.
She did.
Later on, when asked what she thought of finding there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an instant that corridor 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 money, obviously.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anyone.
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Her 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 lingerie is really quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, trembling in her four-inch heels, however perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s get started? Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.”.
In the middle of the space stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one peculiar difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.
” Grab some of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, good and simple.”.
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 might do this. She understood how to give a back massage, no problem.
His voice came muffled from below after a number of minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy.
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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 having fun with me.”.
She followed. She was proficient 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 delicious. Get on the table, that’s it, do not hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, baby, that’s so attractive …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika winced and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. She already understood how to drive a male crazy. There was one thing left to learn.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Show me that gorgeous …” He needs to have seen the look on her face, due to the fact that he included, “Don’t fret, I won’t touch you there.”.
Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on complete display.
” Oh, yummy,” he purred once again. “It’s a beautiful view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
She didn’t feel yummy; she had not desired to be. Instead, she felt ludicrous, uncomfortable, even traitorous.
But mainly, she felt contrasted. Due to the fact that she likewise realized how much power she held. This was a place where customers paid for the opportunity of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.
” That’s an excellent lady. 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 cash in her hand. It sufficed to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.
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Northamptonshire, England (EN)