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She was 27 the day she accepted her very first task in the world of personal services, however they informed her she might and must pass for more youthful.
That week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old enough to drink, likely a university graduate (showing some measure of intelligence and conversational ability), however still young, supple, and desirable. Valuable to a wide range of tastes.
To put it simply? Lucrative.
Offering yourself was legal here, to reduce 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 know she ‘d become a product called Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.
This pseudonym didn’t only protect her on paper– it secured her sense of self. She might separate, dissociate, disappear. Annika would do all the work while she watched from a safe range, hoping each time she ‘d brought out her dignity undamaged.
This was just temporary, she told 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 pressed the call button beside 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 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 pictured discovering there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promo and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t cause one.
Later, when asked why she remained a full week once she understood what it was about, her reply came quickly:.
” For the money, of course.”.
Annika made over $7,500 in 8 days. And she didn’t even have to fuck anyone.
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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 underwear is actually quite.”.
She shivered under the blast of air conditioning, trembling in her four-inch heels, however possibly it was something else. “Thank you.”.
” So, let’s start? Do not stress, I’ll stroll 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. But this table (in addition to all the other ones here) had one strange distinction: a second hole, right where one’s lower upper body would line up.
” Grab a few of the oil. Warm it between your hands. We’ll begin with a back massage, simple and nice.”.
He removed his clothes, all of it, and laid face down on the table.
Annika positioned 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.
His voice came muffled from below after numerous minutes. Massage my legs and move up to my ass. Reach in between my legs, don’t be shy.
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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 turn around now. You can massage my chest and keep having fun with me.”.
She followed. She was good at following directions. When he tapped her wrist, she surprised.
” I’m gon na have you do a body slide. Take off 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, baby, that’s so attractive …”.
Her mind was blank. Annika squirmed and moved, skin on skin, letting her primal instincts take control of. She currently knew how to drive a man insane. There was one thing left to discover.
” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Program me that gorgeous …” He must have seen the search her face, since he included, “Don’t stress, 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 complete display.
” Oh, yummy,” he purred once again. “It’s a gorgeous view, sweetie. Keep going.”.
Yummy? Was that what she was? She didn’t feel tasty; she hadn’t wanted to be. Rather, she felt absurd, uncomfortable, even traitorous. A plaything for males with disposable income under the thinly veiled guise of “masseuse”.
However mostly, she felt clashed. Because she also understood just how much power she held. This was a location where consumers spent for the opportunity of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a stranger, after all.
” That’s a great woman. Complete 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 cash in her hand. It sufficed to encourage her to accept the next walk-in.
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