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

That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the ideal age, you see: old adequate to consume, likely a university graduate (suggesting some procedure of intelligence and conversational ability), but still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a large range of tastes.

To put it simply? Lucrative.

Offering yourself was legal here, to minimize it to simple 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 end up being a product named Annika *, the name she gave to her new work personality.

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

This was just momentary, she informed herself. This didn’t specify her, didn’t negate all she ‘d achieved and intended to achieve afterwards.

On a cool September night 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 rang. 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 left. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later, when asked what she imagined discovering there, she truthfully had no answer. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that corridor didn’t lead to one.

Later on, when asked why she stayed a full week once she knew 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 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 great,” he said, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is actually 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 begin? Do not fret, I’ll stroll you through it.”.

In the middle of the space stood what looked like an ordinary massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. However this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one peculiar distinction: a second 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 begin with a back massage, great and easy.”.

He eliminated his clothing, all of it, and laid face down on the table.

Annika positioned her hands gingerly on his shoulders and took a deep breath. She might do this. She knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.

His voice came smothered from listed below after numerous minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach between my legs, do not be shy.

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

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

She obeyed. She was proficient at following directions. She shocked when he tapped her wrist.

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

Annika writhed and slid, 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 stunning …” He should have seen the search her face, since he added, “Don’t worry, I will not touch you there.”.

Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward so, her back arched ever so a little, her intimate parts on full display.

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

She didn’t feel delicious; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt outrageous, uneasy, even traitorous.

However primarily, she felt clashed. Due to the fact that she likewise realized just how much power she held. This was a location where consumers paid for the advantage of putting their most delicate parts into the hands of a stranger.

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

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

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