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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first job in the realm of personal services, however they informed her she could and must pass for more youthful.

So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to consume, likely a university graduate (suggesting some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), however still young, flexible, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

To put it simply? Rewarding.

Offering yourself was legal here, to decrease it to easy terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.

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

This was only momentary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and wanted to achieve thereafter.

On a cool September evening 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 ad?”.

The buzzer sounded. She pressed 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 answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an instant that corridor didn’t lead to one.

Later on, when asked why she stayed a complete week once she understood what it was about, her reply came easily:.

” For the money, of course.”.

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, supplied some much-needed on-the-job training.

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

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

” So, let’s get going? Do not 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 material, with a hole at one end. This table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

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

He eliminated his clothing, 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 knew how to give a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s excellent.” His voice came smothered from below after several minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy. Slowly. 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 reverse now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.

She complied with. She was good at following directions. She stunned when he tapped her wrist.

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

Annika slid and agonized, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. There was one thing left to learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Remove your panties and climb back up here. Show me that beautiful …” He needs to 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 so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on complete display.

” Oh, delicious,” he purred again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetie. Keep going.”.

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

But mainly, she felt contrasted. Because she likewise understood how much power she held. This was a place where clients paid for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

” That’s a good lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving much faster.

He grasped her thighs and launched with one final sigh. And it was over.

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