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

That week, she was 22 to anyone who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to consume, likely a university graduate (indicating some step of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Marketable to a wide range of tastes.

To put it simply? Rewarding.

Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to easy terms, although she didn’t recognize that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she strolled in. She didn’t know she ‘d end up being a product called Annika *, the name she offered to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t just protect her on paper– it protected her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she enjoyed from a safe distance, praying each time she ‘d brought out her self-respect intact.

This was just momentary, she told herself. This didn’t define 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 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 called. She pushed the door open to a long narrow hallway lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later, when asked what she envisioned finding there, she honestly had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that corridor didn’t cause one.

Later on, when asked why she stayed a complete week once she understood 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 anybody.

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

” You look great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your lingerie is actually 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? Do not worry, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what appeared like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. However this table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange difference: 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, simple and nice.”.

He eliminated 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 provide 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 move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy. Gradually. Yes, just like that …”.

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He stiffened to complete mast at the very 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 complied with. She was proficient at following instructions. She startled 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 be afraid. Put some oil on your chest. Simply move all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so sexy …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika slid and squirmed, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She currently knew how to drive a male crazy. But there was one thing left to learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Show me that stunning …” He must have seen the search her face, due to the fact that 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 a little, her intimate parts on full display screen.

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

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel delicious; she had not wanted to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, self-conscious, even traitorous. A plaything for guys with non reusable income under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

Mostly, she felt conflicted. Due to the fact that she also understood how much power she held. This was a location where customers spent for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

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

He gripped 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 sufficed to convince her to accept the next walk-in.