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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the realm of individual services, but they informed her she could and must pass for younger.

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (showing some step of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Valuable to a wide variety of tastes.

In other words? Rewarding.

Selling yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d become a product named Annika *, the name she offered to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only secure her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might remove, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect undamaged.

This was only momentary, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped to achieve afterwards.

On a cool September evening 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 ad?”.

The buzzer rang. She pushed the door open up 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, when asked what she envisioned finding there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that hallway didn’t lead to one.

Later on, when asked why she stayed a full week once she knew what it had to do with, her reply came quickly:.

” For the money, naturally.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in 8 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 great,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is truly pretty.”.

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

” So, let’s start? Don’t stress, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what looked like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. However 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 some of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, great and simple.”.

He removed 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 understood how to give a back massage, no problem.

His voice came stifled from listed below after several minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy.

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He stiffened to complete mast at the really first brush of her fingertips.

” Oh, that’s perfect. I’m going to reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.

She complied with. She was good at following instructions. She surprised when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off your bra … yes … oh, you look tasty. Just move all over me, there you go.

Her mind was blank. Annika moved and writhed, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She already knew how to drive a guy crazy. There was one thing left to find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Program me that stunning …” He must have seen the search her face, because he added, “Don’t fret, I won’t touch you there.”.

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

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

She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t desired to be. Instead, she felt absurd, uncomfortable, even traitorous.

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

” That’s an excellent lady. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving 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 money in her hand. It was enough to persuade her to accept the next walk-in.