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

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

In other words? Rewarding.

Offering yourself was legal here, to decrease it to basic terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she strolled in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become 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 remove, dissociate, vanish. Annika would do all the work while she viewed from a safe range, praying each time she had actually brought out her dignity intact.

This was just short-term, she informed herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to accomplish thereafter.

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 ad?”.

The buzzer called. She pressed the door available 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 on, when asked what she envisioned finding there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t cause one.

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

” For the cash, 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, offered some much-needed on-the-job training.

” You look nice,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is really pretty.”.

She shivered under the blast of cooling, trembling in her four-inch heels, but perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s start? Do not stress, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what looked like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: 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, simple and great.”.

He removed 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 give a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s great.” 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, do not be shy. Gradually. Yes, easily …”.

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

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

She obeyed. She was good at following instructions. She stunned when he tapped her wrist.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look yummy. Get on the table, that’s it, don’t hesitate. Put some oil on your chest. Simply slide all over me, there you go. Oh, infant, that’s so sexy …”.

Annika squirmed and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to find out.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that beautiful …” He should have seen the search her face, since he added, “Don’t stress, I will not touch you there.”.

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

She didn’t feel tasty; she had not wanted to be. Instead, she felt ridiculous, self-conscious, even traitorous.

However mainly, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she also understood just how much power she held. This was a place where consumers spent for the benefit of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

” That’s a good woman. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving quicker.

He gripped her thighs and released with one final sigh. And it was over.

At the end of those 45 minutes, she had $110 money in her hand. It was enough to convince her to accept the next walk-in.