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She was 27 the day she accepted her first job in the realm of individual services, but 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 procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Marketable to a vast array of tastes.

To put it simply? Successful.

Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce it to basic terms, although she didn’t understand that’s what she ‘d be doing the first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become a product called Annika *, the name she provided to her brand-new work persona.

This pseudonym didn’t just safeguard her on paper– it safeguarded her sense of self. She might remove, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she saw from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d come out with her self-respect undamaged.

This was just short-term, she told herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and hoped to accomplish afterwards.

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 pressed the door open to a long narrow corridor 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 on, when asked what she envisioned finding there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d understood in an immediate that hallway didn’t lead to one.

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

” For the money, obviously.”.

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

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Her first consumer, 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 pretty.”.

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

” So, let’s get started? Don’t fret, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black material, with a hole at one end. But this table (along with all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: 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 begin with a back massage, good and simple.”.

He eliminated 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 knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.

His voice came muffled from listed below after several minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, don’t be shy.

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

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

She obeyed. She was proficient at following instructions. When he tapped her wrist, she shocked.

” 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 move all over me, there you go. Oh, child, that’s so sexy …”.

Her mind was blank. Annika agonized and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take control of. She currently knew how to drive a man insane. There was one thing left to learn.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb up back up here. Program me that beautiful …” He should have seen the look on her face, since 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 somewhat, her intimate parts on complete display.

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

She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t wanted to be. Instead, she felt ridiculous, uneasy, even traitorous.

Primarily, she felt contrasted. Since she likewise understood how much power she held. This was a place where clients paid for the advantage of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

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

He grasped her thighs and released 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.