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

So, that week, she was 22 to anybody who asked. It was the perfect age, you see: old sufficient to drink, likely a university graduate (indicating some procedure of intelligence and conversational capability), but still young, flexible, and desirable. Marketable to a wide range of tastes.

Simply put? Profitable.

Selling yourself was legal here, to reduce it to easy terms, although she didn’t realize that’s what she ‘d be doing the very first day she walked in. She didn’t understand she ‘d become an item called Annika *, the name she gave to her new work persona.

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

This was only short-term, she told herself. This didn’t define her, didn’t negate all she ‘d accomplished and hoped to achieve thereafter.

On a cool September night 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 corridor lit with strips of multicolour LED lights; floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the right wall, closed doors lined the. “Come down to the end,” called the voice.

She did.

Later, when asked what she imagined finding there, she truthfully had no response. She ‘d come in for a club promotion and modelling position; she ‘d known in an immediate that hallway didn’t result in one.

Later on, when asked why she remained a full week once she understood 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 have to fuck anybody.

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

” You look good,” he stated, deep blue eyes drinking in her exposed body. “Your underwear is really pretty.”.

She shivered under the blast of a/c, shivering in her four-inch heels, however perhaps it was something else. “Thank you.”.

” So, let’s begin? Do not worry, I’ll walk you through it.”.

In the middle of the room stood what appeared like a run-of-the-mill massage table, upholstered in a cushioned black product, with a hole at one end. But this table (together with all the other ones here) had one strange difference: a second hole, right where one’s lower torso would line up.

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

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 could do this. She knew how to provide a back massage, no problem.

” Yeah, that’s great.” His voice came stifled 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 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 good at following instructions. She stunned when he tapped her wrist.

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

Her mind was blank. Annika winced and slid, skin on skin, letting her primal impulses take over. She currently understood how to drive a guy crazy. There was one thing left to discover.

” You can do the reverse slide. Take off your panties and climb back up here. Show me that gorgeous …” He should have seen the search her face, because he added, “Don’t worry, I will not touch you there.”.

Dealing with toward his feet she straddled him and leaned forward just so, her back arched ever so slightly, her intimate parts on full screen.

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

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

But mostly, she felt clashed. Since she likewise realized just how much power she held. This was a place where clients paid for the benefit of putting their most sensitive parts into the hands of a complete stranger.

” That’s a great lady. Finish me off,” he gasped. Her hands handled a life of their own, moving 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 money in her hand. It was enough to convince her to accept the next walk-in.