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

So, that week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (suggesting some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Marketable to a wide variety of tastes.

To put it simply? Lucrative.

Selling yourself was legal here, to decrease it to simple terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she walked in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being an item named Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work personality.

This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She could separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe range, praying each time she had actually come out with her dignity intact.

This was only momentary, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and wished to achieve thereafter.

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 advertisement?”.

The buzzer sounded. She pushed the door open up to a long narrow hallway 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 on, when asked what she imagined discovering there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t lead to one.

Later on, when asked why she remained a full week once she understood what it was about, her reply came quickly:.

” For the cash, of course.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in eight days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anyone.

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Her first customer, a white male in his 40s, offered some much-needed on-the-job training.

” You look great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is truly pretty.”.

She shivered under the blast of a/c, shivering in her four-inch heels, however 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 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 strange distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

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

He eliminated his clothing, all of it, and laid face down on the table.

Annika positioned her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She might do this. She understood how to provide a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s good.” His voice came smothered from listed below after several minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and go up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.

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He stiffened to complete 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 playing with me.”.

She followed. She was good 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 tasty. Get on the table, that’s it, do not be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Just slide all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so attractive …”.

Annika agonized and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. 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 lovely …” He needs to have seen the search her face, due to the fact that he added, “Don’t worry, I will not touch you there.”.

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

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

She didn’t feel yummy; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt ludicrous, uneasy, even traitorous.

Mostly, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she also recognized how much power she held. This was a place where customers paid for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

” That’s a great lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving faster.

He gripped her thighs and launched 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.