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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the world 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 perfect age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some step of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and preferable. Marketable to a vast array of tastes.

In other words? Successful.

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 walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become an item called Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t just secure her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She could detach, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe range, praying each time she had actually brought out her self-respect intact.

This was only temporary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to achieve thereafter.

On a cool September evening in Melbourne, Australia, not-yet-Annika pushed 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 sounded. She pushed the door open up to a long narrow corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the best wall, closed doors lined the left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later, when asked what she pictured finding there, she honestly had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that hallway didn’t lead to one.

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

” For the money, obviously.”.

Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anybody.

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

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

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 begin? Don’t fret, 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 material, with a hole at one end. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a 2nd hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.

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

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 could do this. She understood how to give a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s excellent.” His voice came stifled from below after numerous minutes. “Now tease me. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, do not be shy. Slowly. Yes, just like that …”.

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

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

She followed. She was proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she surprised.

” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Remove your bra … yes … oh, you look delicious. 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 slid and twisted, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take over. There was one thing left to learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Program me that lovely …” He must have seen the look on her face, because he added, “Don’t worry, 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 complete screen.

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

Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel yummy; she hadn’t wanted to be. Instead, she felt ludicrous, awkward, even traitorous. A plaything for males with disposable earnings under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.

Mostly, she felt clashed. Since she also realized how much power she held. This was a location where clients paid for the benefit of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a complete stranger, after all.

” That’s a good girl. Complete me off,” he gasped. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving quicker.

He grasped 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.